psychoshenanigans | Skeleton City // AU

Entry tags:

calvin,
robin

Skeleton City // AU

The Ghost Block is one of Robin's favorites. It's technically "Block 4", or something like that, but no one calls it that anymore. Centuries ago, when the Third End forced everyone to tunnel downwards, it was the first stop for everyone with money, everyone who could afford to shove and dig and stake out a place of their own. These politicians and actors and well-paid physicians had beautiful mansions carved out of the stone; they designed excessively intricate grounds to call their own.

Turns out they didn't dig far enough down, though. If the flooding and rockslides didn't get to them, the radiation leaks usually did. Their beautiful, overindulgent little world turned into a crumbling ghost town in a couple of decades. Though that's hardly the case any longer--most of the danger has long since been settled or drained away. Now these mansions are filled with the strangest collection of entrepreneurs and artists and businessmen living off the higher levels of the Underground. Gamblers, club owners, con artists; one of the most prestigious whorehouses in all of Skeleton City is here, as are the clubs that Up-Tops go to when they need to make a less-than-legal deal with someone who'll get them their money's worth. It's scum like the rest, but it's interesting scum. Painted reds and oranges, lit up with neon and old florescent strings dragged up from the Rat Pits. They're real fans of glow-in-the-dark things here, all sorts of surprises showing up greens and yellows in the darker parts of the caves.

Robin's here on business, technically. He's going to meet with someone very important for a polite lunch, and discuss the possibility of her putting down some roots closer to the King's Court, since she's been quietly chipping away at the chance for years. It's a shame that she's going to be coincidentally suspected and accused of running a crime syndicate on the lower levels. Any and all of her authority regarding weapons distribution will be revoked on account of its less-than-desirable acquirement in the first place. And they'll have to find someone else to fill the sudden power void. Hmm. He wonders who that will end up being? Surely, not the dashing young man who's in such a convenient position to take some of that trouble off their shoulders.

He's dressed the part today, too. It's the kind of careful bedgraggleness that only comes from the most devoted of the Underground clubgoers. Taken in to his size, a little messy. Straps and belts where they don't need to be, metal studs just to show that you're a good enough collector to have them. It's the little touches that make him legitimate company, though. He's got his good gloves on. Fitted, leather. You won't find those down here.

He's got his lightstick out too, hanging like a necklace. They're common down here--even the poorest family can scrape together for a couple--but his glows an uncommon red. The rod is a smooth, well-polished one, encased in quality glass. With metal clasps, it had to have cost him a small fortune (though he actually got this one off of some fuckhead drug-runner who stole it from some other dead guy about six years ago, long story). The red glow lights his way in the darker corners of the passages, reflects that spark at the back of his eyes.

So, he walks over cobbled paths and between what might have once been stone fences, down a mismatched flight of stairs, and around a corner into a dark-but-glowing hallway. He's on a mission, but since he put so much time into getting ready today... He's finding it hard not to take his time, looking at the busybodies and scurriers that pass him by. Between the "companions" and the untrustworthy, it's always an interesting place.

You never know what you'll bump into, you know?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He hasn't been here for very long. He simply couldn't have been here for long and lived to tell about it. He's put-together, far too plain, and clean. He looks like he hasn't worked or struggled a day in his life, aside from today, so he's clinging to every empty shadow he can find.

It's a good thing that his half-human brain comes with all sorts of helpful instincts already installed, because his current situation is unimaginably far outside of anything that he's been trained for. He's already been grabbed once, escaping with the help of some military training, torrents of adrenaline, and a handy fallen brick. He wouldn't have previously thought to use something like that as a weapon, but the wordless and reactive parts of his brain took care of it when the situation arose.

So now he's left slowly wandering on his own again, with a new tear in one of the seams of his sweatshirt, absolutely overwhelmed with the constant barrage of new information. Wide-eyed and pressed neurotically against whatever wall he's currently hiding against, he's carefully picking his way along... half of his attention focused on staying away from as many people as possible, and the other half swamped with the effort of trying to recognize anything as familiar or helpful in the sea of things deliriously hitting his brain as nothing but 'unknown.'

He barely notices anything's different, too focused on the usual steady buzz of things around him to pick out any individual oddities. But then there's another corner, another tall, hollowed-out hallway with lights strung high. Windows peek up from the top, little glittering eyes.

And someone's hiding in the shadows, not very far away.

He looks over to see who it is--takes in an immediately stark wrongness for his surroundings, even in the dim light. It's backed up by the sudden flood of other details. He feels wrong, his blood doesn't seem like what it should be. His mental hooks slides off of him like tendrils against melting ice. He can't get a good grip on anything.

What kind of creature is this? He almost reaches for a weapon, though the only sign is his fingers instinctively tensing. But he smothers it down. It looks scared. And there's the chance that it could just be a monster, dressed up as a human, aided by some powerful (however rare) magic.

It's too late to pretend he hasn't noticed, though. He stopped walking whole seconds ago. So he continues to watch him, even as a few other people sightless pass them by.

He notices that he's been spotted immediately. As soon as someone in the sea goes still, so does he--freezing in place, going perhaps more motionless than he strictly should. It's something that tends to put people on edge when it comes up. Breath and blinking stop entirely for a few seconds. It's one of the little measures of efficiency that the military had insisted upon in his construction.

And he doesn't know why he freezes where he's standing. He logically knows that the other person can see him, but his instincts are insisting on it and he doesn't know what else to do, so... he just stops. And waits.

He needs more information to know what actions to take next.

Distinct lack of a heartbeat, though he swears there'd been one before. That's unheard of, even in monsters. He doesn't know what he is, what he might do, or what Robin could do with him. He has no frame of reference. Calvin isn't the only one who needs more information.

So he calms himself down, taking a breath and relaxing on the exhale. He'll put up a little smile and reach out, casually gesturing for him to come closer. Get over here, huh?

He doesn't expect him too. But he's running tests.

As soon as there is some motion in the other again, he unfreezes. He takes a breath, straightens his shoulders and presses them back against the wall a little, and takes a few seconds to absorbs the new details of the other's behavior.

It doesn't tell him much, but it's at least something to begin to build on.

...Not that it instills any sense of trust in him or anything, apparently.

Robin gets his answer quickly-- "No."

Oh, good. Speech. Another trait to separate this thing from most Monsters. It seems more cautious than anything, which further stays the hand that had tried to reach for something sharp earlier.

"What are you?"

He's quick to ask, after that sure response. He's much slower to take a step to the side, keeping his distance. At least now he doesn't look like he's standing right in the middle of the street.

And he is quick to answer; he's been asked this question a lot.

"I am a manufactured human analog system."

And then there is one single second where Robin is looked up and down, but not with the usually-seen smooth, accessing scan. His eyes dart rapidly--from face to either shoulder, both hands, both feet, and then as far up and down either side of the street as he can see without moving his head, before returning to Robin's face.

"Where am I?"

Manufactured... human analog system. The words mean a lot individually, but together and in this context, they don't make any sense.

"Skeleton City," he tells him, starting to kick up the edges of a plan the more he learns about this thing, "This is the Ghost Block."

To his best guess, ignoring how completely displaced in time he would have to be, this stranger might be something escaped out of a lab up on the surface. And if that's true, the Underground is the last place this creation should be.

"Are you lost?"

He continues to stay just as cold and quietly wary... until the question. Then there is some real expression again, like he'd had before he'd realized that he'd been spotted. Concern, with maybe bits of fear suddenly sneaking in around the edges of his eyes.

"Yes. Very lost."

There we go. He doesn't know how close to human it is, but the emotions are good enough to work with. Easier to grab hold of than his blood, at any rate.

He taps his fingers at his side a little, giving the slightest moment of pause to glance the same way this stranger had just looked before. The coast seems clear, for now.

"Are you someone's science project?" A little incredulous, but he means what he asks.

And he answers with the same immediate ease as before. If it's meant to be a pointed question, he doesn't seem to notice. Though he's had a recent scuffle, still trapped worlds outside of his element, he apparently isn't any less trusting for it.

"Yes. I am the focus of Span's Lattice Project, and I must be returned to Dr. Addis immediately."

Then, after a pause, said as if it should mean something-- "My name is Calvin."

"Well, Calvin..."

Robin looks him over again. Differently, this time. Trying to consider him as more of a person than some mysterious being, he notes the shape of his face, his unusually perfect hair, his blank-grey eyes. He's got to ask questions--dozens of questions, still, and those are just the ones at the surface--but having a name and a goal puts him in a more... interesting light.

...Ah, he was supposed to go meet with someone, wasn't he? Looks like he might just have to cancel.

"I don't know who Dr. Addis is, but I know where to start looking. And it's not down here."

He looks in the direction he'd come, back around the corner and up the stairs.

"Would you be willing to follow me?"

He's still visibly wary, but all that caution seems to now be only directed at their environment--which he very much wants to escape.

As far as Robin himself goes, Calvin doesn't seem to have a problem. He leaves the wall, expression opening up into honest relief. Very trusting.

"Yes. Please take me somewhere else." And it really is a plea. He doesn't like it down here at all.

He's almost surprised by how easy that was. Has he really spent so long down here that naivety and quick trust comes as a shock? But he's quick to remind himself that the poor thing doesn't know any better. He nods, happy with the change.

"My name is Robin," he explains, then points up at the stone ceiling above them. "We're going to go upstairs, where you won't look so out-of-place."

Normally he might not bother, but he's got a feeling this new friend of his wouldn't understand all the subtle little social cues he's starting to pull together--it's a tapestry of appearance, and he doesn't need this thing going and ripping holes in it.

"So, here's the plan. I'll keep my arm around your shoulders, and pretend that I know you as a good friend." And he says this all very casually and matter-of-factly, even though he's not doing anything yet. "That way, no one will bother us on the way up. I need you to do your best to not look scared, look like it's normal. Think you can do that?"

The fact that someone is taking the time to work with him, give him something to actually do to make progress, is immensely relieving. He's already calming down; the gratitude is on his face as he nods along.

At the end, he nods again and utterly complies--complete with a bright friend-appropriate smile suddenly lighting up his face. For something manufactured, the expression is convincingly human. The last traces of fight-or-flight blankness totally disappear.

"Yes, I can. And thank you for helping me."

Disorienting, still. What a strange thing he's stumbled across. Much more interesting than his prior plans.

With an easy expression himself, he does just as advertised. Slides an arm around his shoulder, adjusts to how he feels entirely too much like flesh and bone. He's going to accidentally start thinking about him as a normal person, if he isn't careful.

"Hey, no problem. Better me than most people down here."

Most people. Vincent would do it without ulterior motives, the sap.

But he'll start to lead him up, just as promised. Up the stairs, past some people, back the way he'd come. They have a couple of literal bridges to cross before they make it to the way out, but it's not as bad as it could be.

"So, can you tell me more about yourself?"

Robin doesn't even have to try. Now that he's got someone supposedly looking out for him, Calvin seems as though he feels completely safe. He doesn't mind the arm around him at all, acting like it's not even there and that their surroundings are somehow safely being kept at bay. He's free to relax and look around. Everything is suddenly much more interesting and much less frightening.

He might not look alarmed any longer, but he still stands out as a tourist--glancing around at every interesting detail that catches his attention, meeting far too many eyes as they go along.

And he readily responds to the request with the crisp, perfectly-rehearsed promptness of a computer responding to keywords. If he's a science project, he's not very good at being a top-secret one.

"Of course. My call name is Calvin, but my official title is Manufactured Human Analog System #708, an experiment with the Lattice Project in synchronizing multiple biotechnical systems into one fully-functioning android system. I'm the property of the Span Conglomerate Corporation, and Dr. Ruth Addis."

Thankfully, his odd behavior is... awkward, but believable. Up-Tops treat this place like a bizarre and exotic (if not somewhat disreputable) tourist attraction anyway. The people on this level benefit just as much from ripping off newbies from the surface as they do taking advantage of the less-fortunate levels below them. It's not a stretch, now that Robin's with him, to think that this is just some dumb rich higher-up being toured around the Ghost Block for the very first time.

Which is half-true anyway, so more's to Robin's advantage.

Though his story is getting more confusing. There's no such thing as the "Span Conglomerate Corporation," at least not anywhere around here.

"And where are you from? Geographically."

"The home-base of the Lattice Project is in California--" He pauses to get momentarily distracted by a particularly hypnotic set of neon lights set up in obnoxious stripes across one wall. "I don't know how far that is from here, though. I still don't understand where we are..."

And then something suddenly clicks in his head and his steps halt up with it. His eyes are wide, turning toward Robin in hopeful surprise.

"--Oh! The last thing I remember is being in New York. I was with Dr. Addis in New York for the conference at the Institute of Science. ...Are we in New York?"

Unfortunately, Calvin's wide-eyed look is only met with a frown, quiet and small while he scoots them out of the way of a pack of ravenous schoolgirls. Robin knows a lot about geography. More than most, given that he can remember places that don't even exist anymore. But he's never heard of either of those places.

This kid talks like he's from centuries ago, but he's beyond what that time could have possibly produced.

"We aren't," he finally says, pulling them forward again and starting them on the narrow crossing over a chasm filled with glittering windows. "I've never heard of those places. Your being here gets stranger and stranger by the minute..."

Robin's frown is contagious. The android's hopefulness is beginning to be poisoned by it, and soon he's frowning too... though he does take a break from it to lean a little and peer at all those windows.

"I agree. It's strange that you wouldn't have ever heard of them. ...What country are we in? Am I no longer in the United States?"

"This is Redwind," he counters, "On the continent of Gepkel."

But as they reach the other end of the bridge, he shrugs his new acquaintance a little closer and puts on an easier expression. A smile, maybe a carefully-placed bit of sympathy at the edges.

"Hey, don't worry too much. It may take a while, but I know some people who might have a better clue than me. We'll figure out what's going on."

Being shrugged closer happens to coincide with him stopping in his tracks again and turning to fix Robin with a look. This one is searching, though. He's hearing the words but not accepting them, getting stuck on all the nonsensical bits, thinking hard...

Until something finally matches. Two things, actually. Two possible options.

"...Oh. This is a joke. ...Or is this a test? It must be a test."

Aaah, this could be a problem. Not that he expects this thing to just accept that he's somewhere he shouldn't be, somewhere that may or may not exist in his knowledge banks... But it's going to be awfully inconvenient if Calvin starts having a crisis over it.

"...It might be a test," he shrugs. "If it is, no one told me."

At least, this way, he has a reason not to freak out. If it's possible that he is being put through some sort of test, then the emphasis would be placed on him keeping his wits about him, and not on rabidly trying to get back to wherever he's supposed to be.

So, after his features flicker through some uncertainty and deep concern, he nods. He'll just have to go with that then--it's the most logical option.

"...Alright."

And that means looking at everything through a slightly different lens... including events that have led up to this point, and he's reminded of something else.

"Oh..." He turns to examine the tear in his sleeve, running that little incident through his head again. ...He really hopes the decisions he made in that case fell in line with whatever they might be testing for. ...Oops.

"Did you tear something?"

He looks down at Calvin's sleeve, even as he nudges them towards a set of stairs again. At the top of the long flight, there's a square of light... It could be confused for a window, were it not so bright. It lacks the artificial glow that bathes the rest of the underground.

Sometimes it's referred to as "the sun". That thing that people should really go sit under for at least fifteen minutes a day. Real mysterious.

But Robin's not paying attention to that. He's noting the way this stranger's shirt's been put together. The kind of stitch, the quality of fabric, the little hints towards mass-manufacture that haven't been seen anywhere in centuries. He really is some relic from the past.

"Yes," and here he frowns. "I hit him with a brick."

Which seems to trouble him on some level, but most of his attention is up. That square of light.

Having not actually come down in the first place, he hadn't really realized how deep he must actually be. All his thoughts are up there now, with the real light that he's used to, and not at all on the man inspecting his clothes.

"What is this place, exactly? What's up there?"

Any other person on any other world might have been concerned. But here, down in Skeleton City, with a four-thousand-year-old monster, that shit is just hilarious. He laughs, surprised by how easily he admits to bludgeoning someone with a brick--and he still has the unusual laugh that doesn't fit right, like he's not used to it or no one ever taught him how to laugh properly.

"Mm," the second question is must easier to follow up on, "Up there is the surface, above ground. Down here's the Underground--do they not have those, where you're from?"

He doesn't understand the laughing--that seems to startle him a little bit--but laughter is something that he's never quite managed to figure out anyway. He must have just missed the joke again. Humor is complicated.

Robin's explanation, however, is far too simple. It's not what he was looking for at all.

"I understand that the outside is up there and that we're currently underground, but why? Everything here seems to be what you would find in a residential area, but it's all underground. Why is that? What's above us?"

He really has no idea... Robin starting to theorize that this creation was built without the proper memory, or given an entirely false worldview to live with. It might explain some of the ridiculous names he's come up with.

"A long time ago, up there was completely unlivable, so humans dug downwards to find new places to survive. That's why there's a whole city down here. People didn't start moving back up there," pointing towards the related and slowly-growing patch of light, "Until just a few hundred years ago. People up there are generally... better off. It's expensive."

"Really?" A decidedly un-computer thing to ask. He spares a glance back at Robin, presumably to judge how honest he seems--if he even has the capacity for something like that--before returning it upward.

"What happened? What year did it occur in? Who has jurisdiction over this place?

He seems as honest as one can be in a casual conversation. It would take an awful lot of imagination to make something like this up, after all, so Robin must be telling the truth.

"The year isn't important. It happened over a long period of time. People around here will just tell you that the world ended, but people up there--they're more likely to say they were driven down by natural disasters, most of which were caused by human destruction in the first place."

And then they're finally there, walking into something that's unquestionably outside. It looks like some kind of a train station, though the roof has been eaten apart by nature and time and the trains have long since stopped running. People of all kinds are walking around up here, busy socializing and trying to navigate their way down into the rigt tunnels.

"Oh..."

For an artificial thing, he's apparently capable of something like awe, staring around with the wide eyes of someone both surprised and impressed. He's fascinated.

Once they're up in the light and the open air, not so boxed in by walls of threat, he has the distinct look of wanting to go explore. It takes over his expression. Distracted by every little thing--lichen, rust, boots, tattoos--Robin's arm might be the only thing currently keeping him roped to a focus point.

He's happy with the chance to skip an explanation on who runs what. Up-Top has a complicated system of power. The Underground's is an ever-shifting tangle of favors and special rights that make it impossible to sum up. Robin gives him a moment to take in the sights instead, slowly removing his arm now that there is no need.

"So if I take my arm away, are you going to keep following me? We've got a little ways to go, yet."

He's already forgotten his previous questions, or at least set them on some lesser tier of priority. There is too much to look at, too many new questions to form in his head, to dwell on anything that has been said whole seconds ago.

Talking to him brings him back, though.

"Oh, yes. I can follow." Though, he does take an automatic glance at the people nearest to him, maybe wondering if someone will try to snatch him up again.

"Good. Stay close."

He gives him a little... pat on the shoulder, something affirmative, before leading him down the station line. They duck out through a hole in the wall, though that's not unusual for the flow of traffic. They emerge between some buildings, walk out into some kind of a town square... and the difference between here and the Underground becomes as plain as black and white.

There's green up here. Trees, flowers... And while the Underground has been harshly carved from stone, jagged and uneven and broken, this place seems like it's growing out of the ground. Old structures built sturdy, made from wood and stone and not much higher than three or four floors, each. While the Underground feels gutted, filled with packs of mice, the surface feels more like birds nesting in whatever trees they can find.

It's fairly developed, here. A fountain has been built, things look clean. It's easy to tell an Undergrounder from an Up-Top just by how they dress. Dark clothes and tatters on one side, simple but well-made outfits on the other. The sun is warm, which might be the only thing that keeps the two sides together in this place.

As Robin leads him through, as they pass through shorter residential areas and streets where people have set up shop, there are other things to notice. It gets more obvious the further out they go. There are gardens here. People have real glass in their shop windows. They pass what might be a school, for all the children buzzing around. There's somehow less obvious technology up here; the whole thing feels like its an ambitious project that's struggling against the wrong time period.

Robin's destination is another little square. Public, probably, as there's nothing to stop one from getting in--but with the way it's tucked between houses, and the flowerbeds are thick with weeds, it's probably safe to say that people don't come back there very often.

He has the instruction to follow and stay close, so he abides by it... but only just barely. Only a minimal amount of attention is tagged to his guide; just enough to keep him in his periphery, only glancing over to really look at him when there is a change in direction or they need to make their way around or skirt close to groups of other people.

Otherwise, his eyes are everywhere else, picking over everything--little flickers of confusion or concentration when he notes that the a plant species is unfamiliar or aspect of the architecture seems anachronistic. Never lingering on detail for more than a second, presumably logging it away to recall later.

It isn't until they approach what seems like a destination that he really comes back. Paying attention to Robin again and sticking slightly closer to his side, the android puzzles over what he sees as an unloved garden.

"What is this place?"

"Ah... this place...?"

He walks a little further in, eventually settling up to lean against a wall somewhere in the shadows.

"It's a garden. Someone put it here years ago. The previous tenant, I think..." He taps the wall with the back of his foot, looking over the weeds himself. "Someone'll dig it up and sort it out eventually, but for right now... no one's going to come wandering in on purpose."

He pats the spot on the wall next to him. Come talk.

"That makes this the perfect place to ask questions."

Calvin takes the spot next to him against the wall, but he doesn't so much lean. He relaxes in his own way, but doesn't have that same comfortably-human slouch. He's more like a soldier, still on alert, still maintaining acceptable posture even when he's supposed to be off duty.

"What kind of questions? When will we see that person who might have answers that you mentioned?"

"Soon," he dismisses Calvin's worry with a smile and a wave of his hand, "But we might have to go back downstairs. As such, I need to know more about you, maybe how to better disguise you..."

And now that it's quiet, he doesn't mind being a little more open and obvious with it. He turns on his heel, looking Calvin up and down like he hadn't done so already. Now it's with a more objective eye, if nothing else.

Whatever thoughts were ticking away in his head pull together when he reaches out to press his fingers against Calvin's shoulder.

"What are you made of, anyway?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Skeleton City // AU

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject