Gratia (
skeletoncity) wrote in
psychoshenanigans2024-07-15 05:36 pm
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GRATIA // PSL
So, here's what Irahl knows.
He's alone in a dark, cold cave. He has most, if not all, of his gear. No one is guarding his location. As he heads away from the spot where he came to consciousness, no one tries to stop him, and no one gets in his way. The few people he finds down there seem human, and not about to approach the nearly-seven-foot man that comes stalking out of the lower tunnels. Honestly, everyone here seems a surprised and a little astonished about his... Entire scene.
There is a way up. It's a maze of twisting corridors and confusing passageways, half of which feel too small for him. It's bigger and bigger groups of people, some of which scatter like schools of fish, and some of which have to be pushed through to get anywhere. It's climbing up into streets lit with dingy lights, graffiti-covered hallways, warehouses, weird holes in stone walls that may or may not be windows. It's alarm bells, it's people yelling at each other down the street. It's just an absurd number of stairs. A couple of people make an attempt to stop him somewhere, and it goes poorly for them.
Elsewhere, events are being set in motion where Irahl cannot see. But he's on his way out.
Eventually, more people try to stop him. At the end of another long stretch of Underground city, a group of official-looking folks are putting a real effort into blocking off the obvious exit, and some of them have weapons.
Down a side alley, into another tunnel, and then the space opens up into a... Plaza, of some sort? The floor is made of stone. The buildings surrounding it are made of stone and are hard to distinguish from one another. At at least the ceiling (also made of stone) is a lot higher than before. Cavernous. There's some kind of sculpture in the middle of it, some impressive feat of geometric stonework that gives the illusion of defying gravity despite weighing literal tons.
This is where someone finally catches him. Sounds have been echoing unhelpfully down every passageway, making it hard to tell if people are coming or going - but this series of quick footsteps comes from an upward direction before someone hits the ground about five feet in front of Irahl.
His clothes are different. His hair is better-kept. Maybe if the situation wasn't quite so tense, there'd be time to see the ways in which his face is different, the way his eyes don't have quite as vicious and sharp a gleam as they used to. But whatever Irahl can take in of him, there is Robin, having hopped down from a rooftop to put himself between him and the exit again.
"...Holy shit."
Kind of weird that he looks absolutely shocked to see the person in front of him, though.
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"Oh, sorry," Nikaro apologizes, pointing up the stairs at their superior officer, "He's here for you."
They really have worked together for too long, them and Seth--they had a whole silent conversation, exchanged through a look, when the guy had walked in over an hour ago. They just forgot that none of it actually happened out-loud.
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So, with that clarified, he properly detaches from one handler to meet with the other. And through some combination of him both being in a good mood and having a high opinion of Seth, he even nods a greeting to the man as he pulls his scarf into place.
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"Walk with me. I will escort you to your hotel."
And then he gets up off the wall and pushes the door open, expecting Irahl to follow. Seth could be in his best mood of the century and he would still conduct himself with as little downtime as mostly-humanly-possible.
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And speaking of consistent, Irahl hardly shows any signs of the incredibly long and taxing day he has had, looking more or less exactly as when Seth had last seen him. There is no lag in his step when he obediently follows.
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It's clear that everyone else went home a long time ago. There might be a stray lab assistant pulling an all-nighter somewhere, or a janitor tending to the spaces that are hard to clean during office hours, but they certainly don't run into anyone as they walk from one dimly-lit exit light to another. The only other soul they pass is the night guard in the otherwise-empty lobby, who nods and gives them both a brief "goodnight" as they pass through the doors and back out into the courtyard.
There are no carriages to meet them this time. Instead, Seth takes them along something that resembles a sidewalk and begins to stroll (which is a leisurely pace for him but still uncomfortably fast for most people with shorter legs), supposedly in the direction of the hotel he's stashing Irahl and Vincent in. The path will lead them through a large stretch of public gardens, which are, of course, artfully arranged and immaculately tended to.
The city streets aren't abandoned, even at this early hour, but they are far fewer people out than there were when he'd arrived. It's strange, there aren't many lights on either, but all of the encasing glass and mirror-shined surfaces bounce the light around in odd ways, washing the path in this kind of twilit dimness that makes the place feel neither asleep nor awake.
"How did you find your first day of training?" Seth finally asks. He walks with his hands behind his back, which may just be his natural resting position with how frequently he settles there.
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The Capitol still reminds him of his least favorite parts of his home city, (at least as far as the above-ground portion had been considered,) but it's pleasant enough. He contents himself with passively taking in the sights until Seth finally breaks the silence, which Irahl had wondered whether he would or not.
"Busy," Irahl comments in a way that is neither overly positive or negative. "Definitely the most... comprehensive I've had."
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He does not explain their methods, he does not justify the time spent, he does not apologize for any perceived expression that the tests were strange. Despite his (relatively) laid back attitude (which is, again, nigh indiscernible from his usual way of being), he's still not here to have a conversation. He's here to ensure everything is running smoothly.
"And do you feel that you were appropriately challenged?"
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Irahl does not expect extraneous apologies or explanation, Seth does not give it, and he assumes that the reverse is true as well. It's great.
Under this precedent, Irahl takes his time in answering. If he'd been someone else, the pause could have meant insecurity or hesitation before trying to speak tactfully. Irahl, however, is doing the sensible thing and pausing because he's simply giving the question honest thought and coming up with the words that would most accurately and efficiently convey his answer.
"In most categories, yes." Those had been some wild tests, so he does want Seth to know that he'd been pushed out of his comfort zone successfully, before continuing. "I have more to show in skills more related to working in the field and combat."
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He nods curtly once he's given an answer, but likewise gives himself a moment to really digest what has been said before committing his full response to words.
"Good. You will be tested further in both categories tomorrow. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, I will be overseeing these tests personally."
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"Looking forward to it," he states neutrally, which isn't truly neutral, because he's saying anything at all. It isn't an automatic response. He's genuinely looking forward to the challenge, as well as seeing Seth in action overseeing anything.
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The hotel isn't terribly far from the Armadatory, but they still have a couple of heavily-gardened blocks to go. He has a little time to indulge his curiosity with something that wasn't on his strict need-to-know list.
"Tomorrow morning, I will be overseeing the evaluation of a batch of standard applicants as well. You are welcome to observe, and under no obligation to participate."
He'll make that very clear first and foremost--if Irahl doesn't want to hang out with scrubs below his skill level, there's such a low chance of it actually happening over the course of his actual worth that Seth doesn't think there's much value in testing it.
"However, if scaring new recruits is something you'd find amusing, I'd be interested to see what they do when faced with competition of a much higher caliber."
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There is a surprised and considering 'hmm' from Irahl at the offer.
Normally, he only gets stuck with the new guys unwillingly--either assigned to his unit under the assumption that they'll learn more quickly while following around an expert who also happens to be frightening, or because some higher power has decided that the willful sniper needs to be brought down a peg.
This is an entirely different concept. New recruits and hopefuls are some of the most insufferable people imaginable... which is why he has to admit that the thought of intentionally putting a little productive fear into them, especially without getting shackled to them like he usually is, has its appeal.
Besides, being able to essentially take a little break from the intensity of his own training sounds kind of nice. Restorative.
"Could be fun."
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"You can decide once you've arrived," he clarifies. No need to decide now.
And that's all he says further on the subject. If Irahl has any questions, he is welcome to ask, but Seth has another point he's interested in making before they part ways.
"Once that business is concluded, you'll join some members of my specialized team for training."
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In the meantime, there is another question to distract him from his worries.
He's glad that he's being warned ahead of time about meeting the squad, so he can prep himself for the prospect of meeting people that he will be seeing again.
He nods as he takes this info in, and waits to see if Seth will explain further... because, a couple of questions are already beginning to come to mind.
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"I don't expect to see cohesion in a day. But I'd like to assess your ability to move with and support this particular unit."
Here, he glances over at Irahl, which is the first time he's really bothered giving the man his visual attention since shortly before they left the Armadatory.
"I've selected only those I trust to be discrete. They are aware of my particular situation and have been given a vague briefing as to yours. There should not be any surprises."
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There are other questions and concerns as well, but the most important one is addressed right away.
When he catches the motion of Seth glancing in his direction out of the corner of his eye, he's quick to look over and meet him there on instinct. It's just a brief thing, a reaction borne on the intent of being as attentive as possible, but it's also the most direct eye-contact he has made since arriving at the Capitol.
Even grazing across the vulnerability is uncomfortable though, so he's quick to divert his gaze again, and he nods as he gratefully takes in the reassurance.
"Understood."
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This is why he also doesn't let the silence after the man's acknowledgement linger on for very long.
"Do you have any questions," he asks, though it's presented more like a statement, or like it's another topic on the agenda.
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There's a pause while a string of questions and insecurities runs through his head, but he luckily comes to the conclusion that asking any of them out loud would probably be to his own detriment. A few moments are spent convincing himself that if there is anything important for him to know, he will be informed.
It takes effort to trust his new employer, but he's going to need to get used to doing so through any of these flashes of anxiety.
So, he ultimately shakes his head. "That answered most of them."
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But Vincent has always been a much better judge of character than him. Come to think of it, Vincent is the reason he gave Nikaro a chance, which turned out to be one of the best decisions he's ever made.
He nods in acknowledgement, but remains quiet for the short remainder of their trip. He stops beside some bollards that protect the very glassy exterior of their destination, and turns to regard Irahl properly.
"Room 203," he says, pulling a key from his pocket and holding it out for Irahl. It's got one of those big tags on it that make it universally recognizable as a hotel key, "I look forward to seeing more tomorrow."
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He's lucky that hotels are built to be easy to navigate, because Irahl can feel his energy shift immediately upon entering. Even though there are certainly still going to be people between himself and room 203, his subconscious is suddenly registering the day-long threat to be over anyway. Everything finally begins to catch up with him until his shoulders slump with weariness, and the task of using both his brain and his legs to get him to his room is the last thing he wants to do right now.
With a heavy sigh to himself, venting some of his vague annoyance at his own tiredness, he pushes himself to drum up the energy needed to cross the lobby and track down his room.
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Thankfully the hotel is fairly quiet at this hour. It's a beautiful space, but Irahl will probably find himself in its less-ornamental stairwell on the way up to the second floor. There aren't a whole lot of rooms up here, either, so he only needs to walk for a little while to find 203. The only people between him and his room are clearly drunk and mostly just trying to get back into their own hotel room.
The room's interior is modestly-sized for somewhere this expensive. There's a stocked kitchenette, a writing desk, and a large bathroom. Strangely, there is only one bed.
Completely unsurprisingly (his talent for falling asleep sitting up is kind of legendary), Vincent passed out in the chair by the desk, probably because he made the mistake of resting his arms on the desk, and then resting his head on his arms. He's got his shoes off, but otherwise hasn't even changed into sleeping clothes yet.
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So, after thinking silently in the doorway for too many seconds, Irahl finally walks fully into the room, shuts the door, and walks over to drop a giant rifle and gear bag onto the bed.
As he does so, he says in Vincent's direction, "Good morning." And if that doesn't do the trick, he'll go shake his shoulder a little.
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He responds vaguely to hearing a voice, with the kind of mumbled filler sounds that Irahl will recognize as Vincent's falling back asleep mid-response. He must be sleeping pretty deeply. The shoulder shake will finally get him conscious, though.
"Hnn," is his eloquent response as he slowly lifts his head and starts rubbing at where his face was pressed hard into his own arm, "Whassat?"
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"Rise and shine. You're late," he stoically teases, figuring that maybe confusing Vincent will get his brain working enough to wake up.
Meanwhile, he drops his cloak and coat onto a nearby chair and peers over into corners of the room he couldn't see from the door without really realizing it, just wearily going through the paranoid motions he usually does when settling into a hotel room.
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It's not at all true, but maybe it'll make Irahl feel better if he believes it.
Vincent does look momentarily surprised as he's told he's late to something, but his sense of time is so fucked up that he has no idea if that's true or not. Or what he's late to. So surprise turns to confusion as he rubs his face, and then rubs his eyes. He sure doesn't feel like he got a solid eight hours of sleep or anything.
"What... The fuck time is it...?" He says, making some effort to wake up and get a handle on reality, "You're back?"
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