psychoshenanigans | Accord // Canon

Entry tags:

robin,
tekhetsio

Accord // Canon

Despite appearances, Robin is in a horrible mood.

Normally when he has bad days like this, he goes out and does something stupid to shake out the bad parts and knock a few resolutions back into place. He used to go out and get wasted for attention; Vincent would never just ignore him when he was fucked up on something, and that was nice. It was never the plan, but that's how it always wound up happening.

Tonight he picked out this little dive-bar right off the Industrial District tram station, where the drinks are cheap and the bartenders won't tell you to leave until you're throwing up in their bathroom. It's no-smoking, but the smell wisps in from outside. It's got neon signs and greasy food. It's the perfect place to get irresponsibly smashed.

Somewhere between drink three and drink four, though, it occurs to Robin that Vincent is not actually here, and that no one knows where he is, and that no one would go out trying to find him because he hasn't come home yet, and that makes him feel crushingly horrible.

So, in a drunken stupor, he borrows a pen from some guy next to him and opens up his grimoire, scrawling out an only-passively-legible message to the first person he can think to want to see. Tek gets told that he should come find Robin. There are directions. He says it's really important.

But by the time Tek makes it to the bar, Robin will have completely forgotten about all that in favor of playing a game involving cups and a little round ball. He's with a group of vicious-looking sailors, several of which are trying not to split their sides laughing at the table-tennis antics ensuing in front of them.

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Tek generally hates coming to places like this when he's not in the very particular mood to do so, but this seemed worth it. Seeing Robin desperate enough for attention to outright ask for it in this state, sending him clues on where to find him, was just too tempting to ignore.

So, he gets dressed up--not too dressed up, because he knows better and doesn't want to risk things that he's really spent money on--and heads out. Usually he visits these places while in a skirt and curvier ensemble, but he attracts nearly the same amount of staring in this kind of place. A pretty man strolling in with clothes like that, dolled-up with nail polish and a touch of makeup, is not an overly common occurrence, here.

He appreciates the attention, even if it is derisive... but there is one set of eyes not aimed in his direction that really should be.

By the note he'd received, Tek had been expecting to find Robin slumped over the bar and waiting for him, or on his feet and in the middle of being some sort of belligerent, at the very least. Finding him preoccupied and having fun is a little annoying.

So, Tek's expression is leaning toward a frown as he finally leaves the front of the bar and heads toward the rowdy noise further in.

Robin has not only moved on, he's also just started drink number five. His world is a bunch of barely-comprehensible flickers. Events don't necessarily connect up in chronological order.

So all of a sudden Tek is there, and Robin adores Tek, so he gets really excited and nearly smacks someone in the face when he throws his arms out.

"Heeeey! It's Tek!"

The others give Tek looks, some skeptical, a few a little more fancying. But they're mostly absorbed in the game Robin's introduced them to, so they won't be much trouble.

Robin just waves at him, like he's not right there. "Hi Tek!"

Tek leans back, just a little, as if he's actually in danger of being smacked in the face too, despite the distance still between them.

"It's me. Hooray."

He takes a minute to make a point of looking around at everything else in turn--the seemingly ridiculous game they're playing, each one of the players--before looking back to Robin and giving him any further attention.

"...What are you doing?"

"Hooraaay..." He parrots that quietly to no one as his attention drifts somewhere else entirely. Someone else is talking about something in a loud voice, maybe it's important! Though he's pretty sure it has nothing to do with him, which bothers him.

Oh, but then Tek said something else.

"Tek, I'm pretty drunk." He takes a couple steps closer and wobbles into a table. "Oof. But you're here so that's okay. I wanted to tell you something! It wasss..."

Oh, Gods. It was... He smushes his palm into the side of his face while he tries to think of what it was he wanted to tell him. There was something, wasn't it?

"...Hey! How long have you been here? Have you been watching me? Am I really drunk? I think I'm pretty fucking drunk."

"You're..."

He makes a point of standing really still, not letting any of his body language lean toward Robin. He's still in the decision stage, figuring out how annoyed he is by this whole thing--caught somewhere between placated that Robin is at least happy to see him, and vaguely disgusted.

"...playing with cups."

At least he's mostly sure the cups are an intentional part of whatever they're doing.

"It's Beirut! Issagame where you shoot the ball into the other team's cups and if it works then they have to drink it and you play until someone gets really drunk and gives up."

He wobbles his head back and forth, perhaps entirely against his will.

"Do you ever get that thing where your neck can't hold up your head because your head is like eighty percent water or something? I think I just made that up. Hey."

He leans forward. He smells like rum. Something in his expression drops out. His smile is weaker. It's more obvious now that he may be pretending to have more fun than he is.

"Let's go lay down. I mean sit. Sitting is better. I don't want..."

And there his attention goes, again. He bites down on his lower lip, but he can't really feel it because his face is numb.

"--They drink it? After things have been thrown into it..."

That's all he really hears of the conversation, and is momentarily invested for no other reason than genuine disgust. He wonders how many of those cups Robin has had.

But then his attention is focused close again as Robin leans in. At first it's defensive, contemplating moving him away again, but--both fortunately and unfortunately--something else comes into focus.

He can see that other something now, dragging along beneath Robin's glazed expression... but, more than that, he can feel it now. Just a taste of it.

And that makes him feel better. His mannerisms turn a little more open, expression somewhat softening and a hand moving up to Robin's elbow.

"Alright. Lead the way."

He grabs Tek's arm with the surprising forwardness of someone completely inebriated. On a mission, he giggles before--as far as he can tell--suddenly walking into and leaning heavily on the bar. He has to bounce between people, wobbling and pushing himself back up and making loud apologies until he finds two seats that are open. He slides onto one, and it's a miracle that he manages not to slide right off the other side.

He asks the rugged-faced bartender for another whatever-he-was-drinking before finally turning to Tek. He's got a slack smile; he looks tired.

"What were we... talking about...?"

He takes his time, hanging a step back if he can get away with it, until Robin is definitely settled. If he gets elbowed or spilled on this early, he's going to just give up on striving for a good mood. That, and if everyone around them notices for sure that Robin has someone sober and mostly unamused watching him, they're more likely to be left alone.

Once that is as silently established as he can manage, he orders something that he'll be able to stomach and settles down into the seat beside Robin.

"You were explaining a disgusting game. But I doubt--or hope--that's not why you sent me a note."

"Game, game..." He follows that train of thought around as his memories slowly catch up with him. Tek can watch them trickle into his head and turn his loose smile into a frown.

"I was gonna say something. Auugh, what was it...?"

He slumps down, running a hand through his hair and digging the heel of his palm into the side of his head. He's trying really hard to remember, but his thoughts are all slippery.

"Nhn, I don't remember..."

Tek lets him just sit in that puddle of slumping confusion for a minute, while he thinks and settles himself. He gets a really good look at his surroundings, so he can be comfortable getting to work ignoring it all in a minute.

He waits until their drinks are delivered, before interrupting Robin's thoughts by sliding his glass over and nudging his elbow with it.

"Here," almost amicably.

"Ah...!" He brightens up immediately at the prospect of another drink. He's in a loop of feel better, drink more, feel better, drink more, so he drags the straw up towards his mouth and sucks down an unhealthy gulp's worth of booze before he suddenly starts explaining wherever his thoughts were going.

"It's not my fault--okay?" Slurring heavily, "Today'sss been all messed up because see, see--" He holds out his arm and jabs his finger into a spot where his shirt has had little holes torn in it. There is no wound to speak of underneath. "Tabby bit me and it didn't work. I lost sssooo much blood."

Drink in one hand and chin propping itself in the other, Tek settles down for the show. Leaned in, attention focused, Robin has an obviously sympathetic audience.

What he begins to explain gets a confused expression leveled at him, however. Brow lowering, Tek stops before narrowing his eyes. He is already lost.

"...What are you talking about?"

"You dunno Tabby?" He looks surprised and confused for a moment himself. "She's a monster, the really horrible one? She bites people and drinks their blood... And it's--"

He stops, suddenly, interrupted by his own dumb laugh at the sudden thought.

"It's niccce, but I dunno. It makes me feel better usually but this time I just still feel..."

He slumps down on the table, sliding his drink over completely by accident with his elbow. The room gets a little dizzy and he mumbles something that was probably supposed to be a sentence. He ends it with a sniffle, very pathetic.

"...I want my blood back..."

Tek catches the drink before it tips over or something, turning the glass back and forth on the bartop while he muses.

"Having your blood removed usually makes you feel better..." said flat and skeptical. He can really only guess if Robin is even talking about something real or not, and that fact makes him wonder.

With Robin crumpled in an increasingly distraught pile on the bar, Tek finds the space between gloves and sleeve and lays his fingers against the skin of Robin's wrist. It might seem like a kind gesture, but he's really doing nothing but investigating--he's beginning to wonder if Robin has something else poisoning his system.

There's little to be found. Just a lot of booze and, yes, a bit less blood than there should be.

"No, 'cause... She does something weird, it's like having sex without actually..."

And then he stops because of the fingers on his wrist. He stares at Tek's hand, because he doesn't remember when it got there. Or what it's doing there. Or why Tek is even here. How long has he been there?

Why did he just tell him that? He must be--

"You're judging me, aren't you?"

"--Judging you?"

Him? Honestly, what a thought. Where would Robin get an idea like that?

Though, the way that he'd previously just narrowed his eyes in a mix of skepticism and disgust probably didn't help. That description, combined with how intoxicated and anemic Robin feels, gets quite a look.

"Don't judge me!" He sounds a little... distraught. "You're so meeeeaaaannnn..." His voice waivers off as he sinks back towards the table, sniffling again. His eyes might be getting watery, and he's talking into his arm.

"This is the worst day and I want to go home with you and I just--"

Okay. Yeah. Those are tears in his eyes.

"Hey..."

At the sight of tears, Tek is immediately glancing up toward the people around them. Things are suddenly more exciting than he'd bargained for, and he needs to adapt along with it. He doesn't necessarily want to shake Robin out of this, but he really doesn't want anyone else to do so either.

In a place like this, the bartender might not care if patrons get rowdy and apocalyptically wasted... but as soon as someone starts crying, the fun could quickly be over. They don't need someone making a scene right there at the bar and bringing everyone else down. It might turn out fine, but Tek doesn't want to take the chance.

"...Come on."

Taking Robin's elbow and scooping up the drinks, he attempts to herd him out of his seat and toward a more vacant place to sit. And if there aren't any, he'll quietly bare a few fangs to encourage someone to move to a different table.

It won't take him long to find a place. The people here might be drunk, but they're not used to otherworldly beings and things with fangs. A couple of barely-legal university kids abandon their table without a fight.

Robin is actually very easy to convince to move. He has trouble putting one foot in front of the other and stumbles a little on his way, but he makes it. He slumps heavily into the seat, rubbing at his eyes even as he sinks and slouches and looks to be in danger of slowly sliding under the table.

Much better.

Once they're as isolated as they can be, Tek returns to the attentive place he'd left off at--complete with pushing Robin's drink toward him again. It's mostly an attempt to get him to focus and lean in the direction of the table instead of sliding toward the floor.

"Here. Take this, will you?"

Drink more. It'll help.

His attention follows it perfectly. He hoists himself back up so that he can slump on the table, propping his face up just enough to reach his straw.

More booze. That'll fix it. Booze fixes anything. That's what Vincent always says.

"...No one's paying attention to me." He frowns sadly, eyes all watery still, looking over at the group of people he was interacting with before. "I hate these people, they're all weird. I hate them."

Tek takes a sip from his own drink, but the primary purpose behind it is to help hide any betraying thing that might sneak into his expression. Leave it to Robin to suddenly hone in on something like that when Tek is least expecting it. So, he tries not to leave it to chance by buying a moment to totally compose himself.

He's suddenly and very quietly delighted. He can't help loving what is seeping out of Robin now.

"Why do you care whether they are or not, if you hate them?"

He's not trying to be encouraging. He just wants to know.

"Becaussse... I want attention," he repeats, like it wasn't clear enough the first time. "People like... being noticed, right? That's normal...? I think..."

It looks as though that thought process is a little too much for Robin to wrap his brain around, but he continues as best as he can manage.

"It doesn't matter if I hate them because, because, because then you have a unique connection so you can make them stop being so stupid."

"...You want attention, and you want to make them... stop being so stupid?"

Oh, there's that judging look again. He'd been trying not to slip into it, but it's just so natural for him... especially when he's following only exactly half of the ideas that Robin is slurring over.

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