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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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?}

{My reliable precog is already dead. You're second-rate at best, but you'll have to do.} Schuldig managed to blend potential jealousy, an insult, and Psii's love of the number 2 into two sentences; despite his current state, he's still overachieving as a kismesis. {You see the future as it will be, don't you? Not as it could be. Not as something you can use your foresight to change.}

He actually sounds thoughtful about this, and through their connection Psii will be able to detect why. Crawford's precognition is incredibly hazardous for Schuldig to even attempt to go near; his mind is largely locked off telepathically. Crawford sees the timeline of their future as a tree with infinite branches, and guides Schwarz - Schuldig - through the most ideal outcomes. That's too much information for Schuldig's mind to handle, on top of the things he already fields. He doesn't know how to narrow his focus to only the branches that need immediate attention, doesn't know how to keep the grip he needs on his individuality in the present while staring down the road to the future. He's only truly entered Crawford's deeper mind once, and it very nearly destroyed him.

A single path to the future, however - that's different. The nature of Psii's powers dictates how well the redhead will be able to cope with it, which is why for once Schuldig's looking before he leaps.

Edited 2015-04-08 23:02 (UTC)

{Wow, iif that'2 how you REALLY feel, how about II ju2t diitch your u2ele22 a22 back wiith the douchebag who wanted to kiill you? Then you wouldn't have to worry about how 2econd rate II am.}

It's just some obligatory bitching, however, an annoyed snort being chuffed out from Psii's nostrils even as the other part of his brain acknowledges that's exactly how vision twofold works. He'd probably flip a fucking table if that's the kind of precog he was. He gets enough of the tap just as it is with confirmed and thoroughly doomed bullshit. Listening to everything else... Ugh.

Although it's not that easy. Vision twofold is a sink with a fucked up faucet. It can still shove an overload of information, after all, something he makes more than clear to the telepath. He doesn't always get to pick and choose how far into the future he's seeing, or how much of it.

Even on one road, there's a lot to the future- a vast gaping thing. For all he knows, he might really see himself getting offed by the douchebag besides him. Wouldn't that be fun.

{Are you ready or not?}

So long as it's not a matter of infinite variations and possibilities, Schuldig is certain he can handle it. This assurance comes across even through their mental link.

{I'm ready. But don't act like my killing you wouldn't be your ideal for this situation, just short of you killing me instead.} He smirks a bit, despite everything. {You'd be lucky to see that. It'd give you something to look forward to.}

The only response to that is Psii's foot lashing out to kick at one of Schuldig's shins. Not exactly the most mature form of hate, but whatever. They're too busy to do anything else.

Taking in another deep breath, he closes his eyes and tries to settle his racing thoughts to allow that other frequency to overtake his mind. At first, it's nothing but a blaring white noise as it all rushes in- images and sounds all without order or clarity or anything. Like waking up, a dozen voices with none your own clamoring in your ears. Psii's jaw clenches as his mind works rapidly to separate it all best he can. It's tedious work, but he works through it all patiently as he can.

There- focusing in on one thing in a torrent of others. It's not Psii's own misery that he can focus on, but the doomed future for others as well, so long as they're connected on way or another to him, and here... Well, they're all connected if they like it or not.

And what he's connecting to right now is the image behind his closed eyelids, of the way a sharpened branch punctures through the gaps of a ribcage, of a tiny little package with its parachute tangled in the branches above both fighters' heads. He immediately starts trying to memorize the details of the place. Whether they avoid it or decide to go afterwards to clean up, it's a good thing to have in mind.

Things Psii might have wanted to mention: that in addition to his visions, tuning into this frequency in his pan would involve inviting in all the voices of the dead Psii tries to keep strictly partitioned off most of the time. And that their voices would be getting dumped into Schuldig's head, where he's having enough trouble dealing with the thoughts of the living. Schuldig had been expecting some disorientation; what he gets is twice the psychic weight to stand up beneath, with no warning.

The vision itself turns out to be the least of Schuldig's problems. In fact, he collapses against Psii, with a single gasped German curse, before Psii's even isolated that thread of the future for them to follow. All power in his mind - including even basic motor control - is desperately rerouted in the blink of an eye. Losing his footing in the physical world is harmless; losing his footing in his own mind is lethal, and he's staggering with the strain.

The vision, the narrowing of Psii's focus, is actually his salvation. Dealing with that sudden influx had caught him so off-guard, and required so much focus, that Schuldig hadn't even been able to maintain the presence of mind to untangle his mind from Psii's to save himself. (Of course, he's never entwined his mind on this level with someone else's when they posed an actual telepathic danger to him, either; swift withdrawal wouldn't be as simple as with someone whose mind he was simply passing through.) So when the voices of the dead go quiet, it lets Schuldig recover, a shudder of reaction and renewed awareness of his physical body going through his limbs as the vision plays out before them.

By the time it's over, he's come back to himself enough to push away from Psii with a wordless snarl. Psii will feel a retreat of Schuldig's mind as well, no less abrupt or angry. "Was that an attempt on my life, or are you really that incompetent?"

Well, that's gone to shit pretty goddamn quickly.

He'd been so lost in his own head that any physical attention had been shit he'd place firmly in the "don't give a fuck right now" box, so Schuldig suddenly pushing away snaps him out of it and is quite a surprise. Surprise turns to anger pretty fast, however, and he's bristling right back like an aggravated cat.

"You knew what you were thigning up for," he hisses, still trying to keep his voice low just in case. A little extra paranoia even in the worst of situations is for the best. "Or were you tho arrogant and dumb again that you didn't think about it!?"

"You said visions," Schuldig snaps back, a hand going to his temple. His head feels like it's about to fall off. "You didn't say anything about voices of the dead being part of that package. How many more did you think I needed, exactly? Go ahead and round up to the nearest dozen."

"It'sh the thame mental block for both! I can't help that." And he hardly ever thinks about it anymore, like how most people focus on things close to them or far instead of splitting their head open for both. For once, he wasn't doing something to purposefully kick Schuldig in the metaphorical groin.

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