badliifechoiice2 | I Like To Push Until My Luck Is Over

Entry tags:

hunger games au

I Like To Push Until My Luck Is Over

With a few exceptions, alliances in the arena are destined to be constant ever changing things. It's something he knows the second the rules are explained to them. There are a few amongst their number, of course, that automatically gravitate towards those they know. Him and Signless are an example. Yet whenever they gather in those cold nights that they come to know... It's with a sense of unease and wariness.

Psii doesn't care for it. He stays with Signless, the two of them on their own. It's like being Alternia all over again as they keep close and forage for their survival. The scene isn't unfamiliar... Especially not the part where other people want to kill them.

If only it could have lasted forever.

But one night the cannon sounds off, that familiar face in the sky, and Psii finally appears at the nearest gathering of people. The light of their fire is like a beacon, after all, and he's wordless as he settles down near it with no question. Around three others, and he keeps a wary eye on them all even as a part of him is apathetic to the idea of one of them leaping forward and bashing his head into a rock.

It'd be a relief.

There's not much talking, which he appreciates, and he just enjoys the warmth for what little pleasure it can give him as he squeezes a sharpened stone in one hand. It's the sound of rustling that them all glance up again, bodies tense. New arrival, someone with murder on their mind, or beast? It could be anything.

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'Fear' isn't an emotion he'd associate with Schuldig. Even in situations that would warrant it from anyone else, Psii's become too used to the idea of the telepath being... untouchable, sometimes, so in control that it's fucking infuriating, and one to fall back on anger instead of fear or misery.

Psii doesn't know what to do with it, now that it's here.

{I'll wake you up.}

Ironically, Psii's assessment of Schuldig is largely correct. There are very few threats from outside that could begin to frighten him. Alarm, perhaps; piss off, certainly; put in a bind, easily. Everything that actually scares him comes from within.

There's a huff of breath against Psii's neck that could be a laugh. There's nothing in his mind to corroborate that, though. {Waking up is the problem.}

He doesn't like sharing this. Any of it. He doesn't even like having their minds linked like this, not really, not under these circumstances. It's letting Psii see more of him than he wants on display. But he's significantly weakened right now, and he has to cut corners wherever he can. More to the point, he's already decided he's going to be sticking with Psii for the foreseeable future(ask Psii if he wants Schuldig to stick around? What nonsense is this? He doesn't get a say), and that means he has to trust Psii with at least a few things. They need to be on the same page to work together effectively, to plan, to divide resources...especially that last one, because Schuldig knows his powers aren't the only ones that need extra fuel. And while Psii can ration the use of his, he ought to always have them in reserve in case they need called upon.

Edited 2015-03-27 08:51 (UTC)

Luckily for Schuldig, Psii's already made the same decision about him. It's a course of action so simply decided he practically doesn't waste any of his time even actively thinking about it. That's just how it's going to be, now. That's the easy part.

What's not easy is figuring out what to do. He knows he's being given valuable information here, but he can't even bring himself to think of ways to use it to his benefit when his mind is so preoccupied with how to react to just make it better. Like it's so easy. Still, he tries, and his frustration at not coming up with an immediate solution manifests in the quiet but angry sound of chirping.

{Well you can't ju2t not 2leep.}

{I never said I wasn't going to. Just that it's the waking up that's the hard part.}

Schuldig knows he needs to elaborate. The stakes are high and Psii needs to know what the risks are, that Schuldig's being low on food and energy is a lot more critical than just not being able to utilize his telepathy. And, more to the point, Schuldig's got a request on that front that only makes sense with that context.

But he hates it. This is the kind of thing he never even discussed with Schwarz. (Of course, to be fair, he hadn't needed to. Crawford and Farfarello had been at Rosenkrüs, too; they'd known without having to be told.) Setting himself on fire sounds slightly more appealing.

At least with telepathy, he doesn't have to muster the will to open his mouth and verbalize them. It's slightly easier in the form of thoughts.

{Telepaths can get lost in other people's heads.} His fingers twitch against Psii's waist. If he had the energy, he'd break something out of sheer rage at having to even think these words at someone else. {Forget who they are. Bad enough for the kind that have to go prowling around in other people's heads; worse for the kind that have other people in their heads all the time.} Psii already knows which category of telepath Schuldig falls into, which saves him from having to actually say it. {When you've got to stand against a tide like that, you need to have your feet under you. Even if you've been knocked out, or you're just waking up, you have to hit the ground running.

There's not many minds here. Fewer every day. This'd be nothing under normal circumstances.} The emphasis, of course, is that this is far from normal. Deprived of his energy boosters and barely having enough food to keep himself going on a physical level...there's a serious element of risk that Schuldig will wake up someday and not be able to keep his grip on himself. To lose all sense of which mind he's hearing is his own.

Maybe it's just because Rosenkrüs disposed of them quickly, but Schuldig's never seen - or even heard of - a telepath coming back from that. You only needed to go down once.

Psii will see the images; Schuldig can't control them. Children. Some teenagers, some far younger than that. Dead eyes, vacant stares, limp bodies. Empty shells. Brain death while the brain's still alive. And through it all, a thread - thin but burning red hot - of absolute horror, of revulsion and rejection on a purely visceral scale. Psii may recognize it; it's very similar to how he feels about becoming a Helmsman.

The words aren't even thought; it's just an impression left behind by that feeling. Again, Psii will be able to interpret it easily simply because of its similarity to thoughts of his own. Kill me before I ever come to that.

When the words themselves are being deposited straight into his pan, it's impossible to ignore or miss them, but you'd think it'd be a legitimate worry with how closely Psii listens and stores away every bit. The gravity of this, the secrets Schuldig is actually revealing however reluctantly and however angrily, is not lost on him. Now isn't the time for any kind of petty bullshit. Maybe it's to the surprise of some, but it's something the psionic is more than capable of.

It's those memories that make him jerk, his claws leaving pink scratches along the telepath's hand. Like a chemical reaction, his own spark right back: thick nauseating pink biowiring sinking into flesh with faces frozen into looks of pain at best or completely dead to the world at worse, children's corpses fished out from cruel machinery that had ground them into colorful gory pulp, and that fucking scream-

Psii tries to bury the memories, tries to forget they exist even though he knows they'll always haunt him until his own mind finally goes dim and dark. Focusing on Schuldig, even as foreign as this situation is for both of them, is a welcome excuse. A reprieve.

{2o what? II can get food, but that'2 not goiing to be enough, ii2 iit?}

There's a slight hiss at Psii's reaction; it could be either to the physical pain of those claws scratching his hand, or the mental recoil of those thoughts and the emotional backlash of them. He relaxes again after a few moments, though he'd been tense well before Psii's reaction; perhaps now that they're on the same page and he's gotten the unpleasant task of filling Psii in on things he would have preferred to keep private, he's not as tightly wound. Or perhaps he just doesn't have the energy to spare on tension that's not needed right now.

{Food will be enough.} This is thought with some finality. There's a distinct impression that Schuldig will make it be enough, come hell or high water. {There'll still be risk, but it's always been there.} And now, at least, Schuldig's satisfied that if the worst comes to pass, Psii will know what to do. Just as Schuldig would know what to do if Psii somehow wound up a Helmsman - assuming unplugging him somehow wasn't an option.

Great. There's so much to do, and his mind is rebelling against it all. Psii forges past it, his free hand going up to rub at his eyes and dig into his hair. Work at least will hopefully be enough to keep him from slipping into that dangerous mental quicksand himself.

{We'll have to get moviing early tomorrow then, we need to gather more 2uppliie2 iif thii2 ii2 goiing to work and frankly iif 2omeone doe2n't try to choke you iin your 2leep II wiill be goddamn 2urprii2ed, 2o we can't afford to 2tiick around...} In the background of those pointedly thought words, there's planning being run through like background noise- lists and a rough mental map and how long until sunrise.

Schuldig reaches up his hand from Psii's waist, behind the troll's back, to tangle fingers in his hair and tug, roughly. Not particularly hard, just enough to completely interrupt Psii's train of thought. {So, nothing more than what you were already planning on,} he points out, with a flicker of a smirk. {You worry too much. And clearly you're underestimating what I can do, even like this, if you think you've got to do much more than you were already. I don't need babysitting. All I need is eyes while mine are closed, and another pair of hands gathering food.}

The jerk certainly seems to do its job, or at least makes the rapid fire thoughts stutter. There's some distinct displeasure, but Psii lets it happen. Disgruntled, he curls up a bit more around his kismesis- like an animal making a claim. {Look at that, iit'2 almo2t liike you're not a 2poiiled faiiry priince, makiing 2en2iible demand2.}

{Except we both know I'm your fairy tale kismesis, right?} Chalk that up under 'embarrassing things Psii accidentally let slip during orgasmic afterglow one day that Schuldig will never, ever let him live down'. {I bet even getting killed by me will be romantic by your standards, so don't act like you're not lucky to have me.}

Not entirely correct, with how kismessitude works. But in this situation, it's about the best they can offer each other.

Meanwhile, Schuldig's eyes idly slide away from Psii, over the other people around the fire. {That one,} his mind whispers, the mental image of the man he means clear in their joined minds.

Oh for the love of- His face flushes brilliant yellow even as he starts to growl low in his throat. This shit again, god, you think one thing after a fuck, and the bastard never lives it down. "Fuck you," he mutters sulkily, glancing away.

He's almost content to leave things be at that, to ignore him like he's four and with on other idea of what to do, when that image flickers in his mind. His eyes twitch, but he doesn't physically look at the guy. {What about hiim? U2e your word2, a22hole.}

Schuldig just grins - a familiar curve of his lips against Psii's neck. It's somehow weirdly reassuring.

{He's already planning on picking me off. Thinks I look like low-hanging fruit, but he's shielding his thoughts well enough. Or maybe he thinks I'm in no shape to read them.} His telepathic 'voice' is sardonic. {He'll wait until you're asleep.}

{Oh wiill he now?} The arrogance of the fucker. As though he's not slept lighter, not been woken up by more careful feet and planned out assassinations. As though he thinks he can take his kismesis away with those clumsy hands.

{Liike to 2ee hiim do jack 2hiit when he fiind2 hii2 own throat 2liit when he fuckiing triie2.}

"Mm." This sound is verbal, and the first of its kind Schuldig's made in awhile. If Psii looks, his eyes are closed now. {So when are you planning on sleeping? You can't just not sleep either.}

Schuldig's mind sounds as awake as ever, but that's probably an illusion. He already looks asleep. If he's not walking the razor's edge between sleep and wakefulness, then Psii doesn't know the first thing about his kismesis.

The question is whether he's forcing himself to stay awake just a few seconds longer out of concern for himself, or out of concern for Psii.

{II'll go to 2leep tomorrow.} It wouldn't be the first night he's pulled an all nighter- hell, it'd practically be going back to what's normal for him instead of this ridiculous diurnal bullshit that humans do. If nothing else, he can grab a purrbeast nap or two, keep himself going.

With forced laziness, he draws his claws through Schuldig's tangled hair, toys with it. {Go to 2leep, you piiece of 2hiit. IIf anythiing happen2, you'll know becau2e II'll be 2creechiing liike a ban2hee and tryiing to 2hove 2ome douchebag'2 face iinto the fiire piit.}

{Should I be jealous it won't be mine, for a change?} There's a strangely soft, almost distant quality to these words; normally Schuldig's thoughts are as vivid in Psii's brain as any words spoken right beside him would be to his ear. These words, however...it's almost hard to catch them.

Judging by the fact that Schuldig now seems to be dead asleep against him, however, it's likely because he was drifting off even as he thought them.

{Don't worry, 2leepiing beauty.} But then he's limp against him, more vulnerable than trash like him has any right to be, and Psii feels a quiet rage that anyone would try to take him out while he's so weak and pathetic like this. Not at all like himself, jagged edges and venom points. Not at his best.

It's like Alternia all over again, faking sleep while waiting for someone to make a move. It's an old trick that he's well versed in, and he's thankful that his mind is just tired, not exhausted- there's a difference. He lets his eyes stay shut while his ears keep open, just waiting.

It comes, eventually- the soft sounds of someone trying to be sneaky through grass and twigs. Psii waits until it's right by them- until he swears he can hear the air moving to part for a reaching hand- and then he jerks Schuldig's stupid unconscious body behind him with one hand while the other, still holding his makeshift shiv, jerks a slash towards the guy's kneecaps.

Generally speaking, he doesn't take much pleasure in the sound of someone yelling in pain, but for this, he can't exactly feel bad.

It's a good thing Psii's already wounded the guy, and that the other tribute will be preoccupied for a few moments. Because the sudden, violent movement of his body wakes Schuldig up - and his mind is still connected with Psii's.

What follows is a dizzying, disoriented mess. It's the feeling of having unwittingly turned one's headphones up to full blast without realizing and turning on the radio - a blast of voices where there was nothing a second ago, deafening and confusing. Sensations, too - pounding pain, sharp agony, fear and misery in overwhelming measure. There's that feeling of not knowing where one is, not knowing what's happening, not even knowing who one is, that everyone's felt for split seconds when first waking up - only this one stretches. There's no intrinsic certainty of self, no guarantee that this feeling will ever end.

But then, like a picture snapping into focus, it does. All the other voices are silenced and Schuldig is a distinct presence and clear voice in his mind again, as if he'd never left. All of it a mental process that takes place in the time before the man Psii's shanked has even stopped screaming.

{Need help?}

There's blood on his hands; it feels nostalgic in all the worst ways.

In a way, the distraction of Schuldig's voice in his mind is a relief. Verbally, he just gives a snort while he draws into a crouch. His mental response is a bit more clear. {Don't worry, my deliicate daii2y priince, we're fiine.} Even as he thinks that, however, he's not entirely sure what to do next. The fucking ruckus has woken up the scant other tributes around the fire too, after all, and the times in his past that Psii's killed people hasn't been in front of an audience. Ignoring the fact that everything he does is on display now, it's not a habit he's sure he wants to start now.

After all, even with everything that's happening, he's not going to be some sort of fucking highblood.

In the end, he goes with the almost crueler option. Unless the guy has some gifts from a sponsor somewhere, treating that is going to be difficult to say the least... and who knows what that blood will attract. With any luck, he'll bleed to death, or get eaten, or something. So Psii grasps Schuldig's arm, helping to jerk him up while he bares his teeth in a grin at the others.

"We'll be leaving, thanksth."

Schuldig is almost to his feet before Psii grabs him, though it has to be said it's almost a stagger. It could just be the sudden movement after having been so abruptly woken up, or a further sign of weakness. There's no indication which, even within their minds.

{This way. No minds in this direction.} And he tugs Psii along by the arm Psii has in his grip, moving quickly and surprisingly soundlessly. Stealth isn't the word that comes to mind when it comes to Schuldig.

Times like this, it's good to have a telepath. Psii doesn't hesitate, just goes along in the direction that Schuldig is pulling him in. He's used to sneaking as well, getting out of a bad situation and making ones self scarce.

{Been this way before?} Even if it is hard to tell, things getting darker the more they move away from the fire.

{No. But it's not hard for me to keep track of where people are. Roughly, anyway.} Proximity makes it easier for Schuldig's telepathy to work. It's only a short step from there to his being able to judge, with some degree of accuracy, how close the owners of minds within his range are to him. {So long as we watch for traps, there's nothing to worry about.}

Traps are perhaps Schuldig's greatest weakness in the arena. Unless he picks up on their being set, and then keeps their location in mind, his telepathy gives him no advantage in spotting or keeping track of them. Certainly not in avoiding them.

Fucking Crawford. That's supposed to be his job. Where did he get off, dying so early...?

Psii will be able to taste the distinct bitterness of those thoughts. Something very close to a real sense of loss for Schuldig, buried within his anger.

It's... a disconcerting thing to feel leaking into his mind as he pulls Schuldig along, something that almost feels a little dirty considering their general relationship. For now, he doesn't say anything on it. Maybe later, if they can somehow get out of this shitwreck or if things are looking up, he'll tease him- it's his kismesis after all, he should- but for now....

{II'll keep an eye out for trap2, don't worry.} Although that does make him pause. With how connected they are, vision twofold could be a problem. He's not sure how Schuldig would react to it.

Schuldig abruptly stops, glancing back at Psii for a moment. {Let's find out.} Apparently he wants to test this immediately, while they've got a relatively quiet moment, rather than wait until it could be a matter of life and death. Probably not a bad idea, to be honest. {Show me.}

Fuck- he nearly trips over his own feet at how quickly they hit the brakes, glancing to Schuldig with exasperation that tries to mask the worry. Even Psii doesn't care much for his own seer abilities, something that's probably more than obvious considering he'll boast about the rest of his psionics but tells almost no one about his precognitive ones.

With Schuldig having a front row seat to his own thoughts, too, it's just as obvious. It's the mental equivalent of cranking of the radio to hide the sound of the world burning down around your ears. Psii's thought processes are often so busy half because that's just how he's wired and half so that he isn't listening in to the voices of the dead or visions of the future.

But he has a point... {Alriight. Hold on.} He needs to prepare himself as much as giving Schuldig time to as well. There's quick glance around to make sure with his own physical senses that they haven't been followed before he takes a deep breath and leans against a nearby tree. It's a precautionary method, although not always one he needs. You never know when a vision is so bad that you need to lean against something.

{Ready?}

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