OH ROCK BOTTOM ☆ caustic

[michael t.]

Michael fucking hated Valentine's Day. Scratch that, he fucking hated this Valentine's Day in particular. On most Valentine's days, he and Trevor would be huddled together in some shitty, run down temporary camp, shooting the shit and drinking until their voices got heavy and their vision got hazy. Then they'd partake in throwing the empty liquor bottles out into the trees, chucking them as far as they could manage and making a little competition of it. Trevor usually won, the coyote gifted with stronger muscles, longer limbs, and blunt claws that were better for tightly gripping the necks of beer bottles, as well as other people. Once Trevor had won, the two of them would usually collapse together in laughter, their pelts brushing together and the adrenaline pumping through their veins from the sound of shattering glass making it so that neither of them truly cared, really. They'd fall asleep after that, pressed in close together and not speaking about it in the morning, neither of them truly uncomfortable enough to make a fuss. Most people would've found the thought of spending the day of love like that utterly baffling, but it wasn't for them. It was perfect, and Michael was pissed the fuck off, because he didn't get to do that this year. No, he didn't get to do it because he  was stuck here, in The Pitt, possibly hundreds of miles away from wherever the fuck Trevor was, if the coyote was even still alive. The thought of the canine not being alive made Michael's stomach twist unpleasantly, and he swiftly banished the thought from his mind, choosing not to look too closely at why it made him so upset.

So, instead of a pleasant crazy day of shattering bottles and ignoring weird heart flipping feelings, Michael got... this. The several walls of a fucking cave, his bag shoved in one corner and his body practically shaking with pent up energy. He had a shitty ragged dog bed beneath him, full of tears and dragged in from god knows where. It smelled like canine, and only served to make Michael miss Trevor more. He wanted to smash something. Instead he just got up, lumbering his way over to where his bag was. After several minutes of searching through it, claws picking through jewelry and other accesories, he was able to find what he was looking for: his whiskey, and his cassette recorder. The former made him grin crookedly, and the latter made his heart do a weird, unpleasant flip flop. Still, he dragged both back to the bed, collapsing into it and putting both items in front of him. He twisted the already somewhat empty whiskey open easily, tipping the bottle back and taking a generous sip. The sting was pleasant, and it gave Michael the jumpstart he needed to futz around with the recorder, taking several seconds of fumbling before he found a cassette and jammed it inside. The old human device crackled slightly as the noise from it came to life, filling up the small cave that Michael had claimed as home. There was silence for a long moment, nothing but the faint crackle of recording static, and then a voice. An achingly familiar voice that made Michael's chest grow tight, "Mikey... hey, Mikey, come the fuck on! Pay attention to me, fatass!"

He could hear the tired but amused rumble of his own voice respond back in the recording, and Michael was nearly ready to slam the fucking thing into the nearest wall already. However, he refrained, knowing that these recordings were all that he had left of Trevor, at least for now. He pressed his nose against the cool surface of the machine, his voice raw as he mumbled softly, "Hey, T..." He hated how choked up he sounded, and mentally scolded himself. He was such a dumbass, getting attached to someone as fucking crazy as Trevor. Someone who was bound to get them both in trouble... FUCK.

Michael's heart hammered in his ribs as he heard pawsteps echoing off the walls of the cave around him. Suddenly he was scrambling to shut the recorder off, his paws slamming clumsily at the device as if he had promptly forgotten how to fucking use it. The memory of Trevor's voice was cut off midsentence, and blissful silence returned to the room again, save for the sound of those heavy footsteps. Shoving the recorder half behind him, the bobcat got up to his paws, pulling his liquor closer and glaring viciously in the direction of the sound. His voice was still scratchy as he called out, claws digging against cold stone, "Hey! Who the fuck is there?"

[glow=#75603C,1,000]" oh, it's a setup, no, no, we won't fall. "[/glow]

[CAUSTIC.]

[table][tr][td]

  CAUSTIC

Valentine's day was an old, archaic holiday that had managed to survive the test of time through consumerism and business. Caustic knew few of the legends toted to their business on the holiday. Makoa visited his husband and Elliot left to get laid in a club somewhere. Alexander had spent a few of his valentines with Luc. Typically, they had a nice dinner somewhere then laid in bed together. They were simple.
Last year, Octavio had come to his lab, despite Caustic's full intentions to be alone that year. Establishing rules and boundaries for Octavio only drove him break them. Octavio had shoved all the papers off of one of Caustic's counters, looked him deal in the eye and dropped a vial of acid upon the tile. Shoving his face in it like a bad dog only drove him to do it again.
Caustic, though he would never admit to it, enjoyed Octavio's presence. Someone so willing to fling their body into death and danger, into Caustic's natural high-risk situation. It was entertaining, enjoyable... Caustic's tail wagged as he thought of Octavio dying to an altered compound of his gas, then returning the next morning to demand to do it again.
Octavio understood Caustic's lack of tenderness, understood his walls, and understood Caustic's goals.
Caustic had been tender with Luc.
Never again.

He missed Octavio, though. There was the feeling of empty loss in his chest, a loss of project and work. He spent too much time and energy obsessing over Octavio's body and watching him squirm underneath his gaze. He could picture Octavio's body in his iron grip, counting each scar and their placement.

Caustic was brought out of his day dream at the sound of voices. It didn't quite sound right. He took a scent of the air, trying to figure if there was someone down here. He was reminded of his new neighbor, the injured bobcat, and grimaced. The wolf had made a home in the caves to be alone. And now, he had a neighbor that he wanted as much distance from as possible. Caustic wasn't sure how the Pitt would feel if they found out about his experiments in the caves, and would rather his caged monkeys go unnoticed by Kydobi. As long as Micheal understood Caustic's need for privacy, they shouldn't have any issues. A cough left him.
Caustic stood in the doorway, his ears and tail perked up, shadow eclipsing the mouth of Micheal's cave. Gas leaked from the corners of his mouth in a fine stream. The wolf's head tilted silently, green eyes locking onto the voice recorder. His tail begun a slow wag in interest. His gaze scanned over Micheal, a mental assessment. "You seem to be in distress."

TAGS • PLAYLIST • PENNED BY OWLIE

[/td][td]

[/td][/tr][/table]

© LEXASPERATED

[michael t.]

Michael hadn't entirely known what he was doing when he moved in beside Caustic. On one hand he sort of did, since he had definitely noticed the wolf and been intrigued by whatever the hell he was doing. On the other hand, he had chosen to move into the caves mostly for his own reasons. They were nice and private the majority of the time, which not only worked for Caustic but he as well, since it meant he could plot things out and listen to recordings uninterrupted. In addition to that, it was nice and fortified, which meant that anybody coming for the numerous bounties on Michael's head would be in for one hell of a time. Still, the bobcat found himself heavily regretting his choice of residency when Caustic came into view, the other male's eyes curious before becoming excited. For a moment, Michael thought that perhaps one of his bandages had become ripped, and Caustic was staring at that. However, he followed the line of the other's gaze, his chest tightening when he saw that Caustic was looking at the recorder. Michael found himself hastily pushing the recorder further into his side, almost protectively. It was all he had left of Trevor, and he had very little intention of losing it to the wolf in front of him.

Michael found himself wondering, for a brief moment, if Caustic had some sort of Valentine's day plans, and a pang of jealousy ran through him. He hoped not, because that would just be the ultimate blow. He was here, stuck without the only person in the world he gave a damn about – for the moment – and yet Caustic, the weirdo living in the cave next door doing God knows what, had Valentine's day plans. Thankfully, this didn't seem to be the case. The bobcat rose his muzzle skyward for a moment, opening his mouth and detecting no hint of anything, save for his own scent and Caustic's, along with whatever concoctions the other was brewing next door. It put him slightly at ease, but he still found himself twisting around to grab his whiskey again, taking another long chug. While the burn was still settling in his chest, he laughed dryly at Caustic's observation, "Congratulations buddy, you win genius of the year for figuring that shit out." His voice was sharp and slightly bitter, and just the sound of it in his own ears made him wince. God, he was pathetic. He really needed to do something, just so he'd stop with this awful pining. Chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment, Michael sighed before he spoke again, pushing the bottle of whiskey a little in Caustic's direction, "Fuck... I sounded like a dick there. Sorry, here." Without watching if Caustic accepted his offer or not, the feline just continued with his mumbling as he laid his chin down against cold stone, "You're right about me bein' 'in distress.' Nothing serious, though. Just... fuckin' hate Valentine's day right now." It didn't give much info as to why, but Michael had little doubt that Caustic would ask follow up questions.

[glow=#75603C,1,000]" oh, it's a setup, no, no, we won't fall. "[/glow]

[CAUSTIC.]

[table][tr][td]

  CAUSTIC

Caustic would have preferred it if Micheal lived anywhere else in the cave system. He knew the threatening ambiance of his home and his presence was enough to keep most away. Poor ventilation in the caves left the gas produced by Caustic's body to build in the air, hovering above the ground in a thin cloud an rolling out into the tunnels. For the most part, Caustic was a quiet neighbor, with the exception of the occasional primate screams that echoed from his cave. Micheal needed to mind his business. He was sure Micheal desired his own privacy, so as long as the boundary remained mutual, they wouldn't have any issues.

Caustic's gaze was drawn from the voice recorder as Micheal shifted. Perhaps it was important to him. He desired whatever human technology he could get his hands on, and Caustic was willing to wipe the tape clean so he could record experiments on it. Micheal would be wise to avoid leaving it unattended. Normally, he had no interest in petty thievery, but this was important. His ears laid back at Micheal's sarcasm, a small cough leaving him. The wolf took a slow step inside, lumbering over to Micheal as the whiskey was offered to him. Caustic had not drank in years. It wasn't his thing, he preferred coffee and tea. Alcohol was a distraction to the mind and an obstacle to proper testing. He made a drunken Octavio strap on his dialysis machine more than once before they performed an experiment. Confusion flashed over Caustic's face as he tried to decide how to approach grabbing the bottle. His ears twitched for a moment. "Excuse me." Caustic turned tail, leaving to his room and soon returning with a mug. He took the bottle by the neck with his teeth, pouring it slowly into the bug to half-full. A good starter amount. He placed it back down and pushed it towards the bobcat.
"Do you detest the holiday due to its context, or other personal reasoning?"

TAGS • PLAYLIST • PENNED BY OWLIE

[/td][td]

[/td][/tr][/table]

© LEXASPERATED

[michael t.]

Michael, unlike Caustic, was extremely well acquainted with petty thievery. Hell, he had made an entire life built around stealing from others and taking what he wanted. Because of this, he knew well how to 9dentify when somebody was looking to snatch something, and he could see that look in Caustic's eyes when he saw the recorder. It made the bobcat tense, and part of him wanted to tell the wolf to fuck off back to his own cave so that he could remain alone to wallow in his sorrows. However, he also wasn't particularly keen on eating his own fucking teeth at the moment, so he kept his mouth shut, just letting his short tail curl protectively over the recorder, just in case. Watching as Caustic sniffed at the bottle that had been pushed in front of him, Michael found himself wondering if whiskey somehow wasn't good enough for Caustic, or if he had done something wrong in offering it. He opened his muzzle to ask, but the wolf was already lumbering off, leaving Michael sitting in confusion. Had he pissed Caustic off somehow? Had the other heard some kind of screeching from his tests that Michael couldn't pick up on? Either way he wasn't given much time to ponder, since the answer came in the form of Caustic returning with a mug. The bobcat had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from chuckling as Caustic filled the mug halfway, finding the sight rather amusing. Like the whiskey was hot chocolate or something.

Michael smiled as the bottle was pushed back to him, and he took a big swig of the stuff before he heard Caustic's question. He wrinkled his nose a little bit, both at the bitter taste of the whiskey and the query shot in his direction. He sighed heavily after that, letting his paws remain loosely wrapped around the bottle as he looked down in thought. His blue eyes flicked back and forth as he tried to come up with a satisfactory answer, as if he were searching through page after page of responses. Eventually he just grumbled, shaking his head a bit, "I guess other personal reasoning, if you wanna put it like that. I'm just... missing how I spent a bunch of Valentine's days before this one. Had somebody else by my side then..." He glanced bitterly back at the recorder at his side, as if he could somehow turn the voices that left it into the real thing. As if he could just make Trevor suddenly emerge from the stone floor of the cave. Unfortunately nothing happened, just as expected.

[glow=#75603C,1,000]" oh, it's a setup, no, no, we won't fall. "[/glow]

[CAUSTIC.]

[table][tr][td]

  CAUSTIC

Micheal was too protective of the recorder. Maybe Caustic would find his own, later, or his own cassettes and he could ask Micheal to borrow the recorder. Maybe. Caustic's paw lifted and pulled back as he thought over how to grab the mug. His paw couldn't fit inside of the hole, and taking it straight from the bottle was unsanitary and uncontrolled. Caustic didn't shot gun drinks, he held onto them and slowly sipped them. At a party, he would replace it often to give the appearance of drinking.
All to let someone's guard go down. He took a sip from it, lapping with his tongue. "You had a partner?" Luc's face flashed over his eyes, glazing them for a moment. Luc held his hand from across the table until their food arrived- Sashimi and various sushi rolls from an upscale Asian restaurant. Luc's small hands were better with chop sticks. "The male in the recording?"

TAGS • PLAYLIST • PENNED BY OWLIE

[/td][td]

[/td][/tr][/table]

© LEXASPERATED

[michael t.]

Michael had been taught from a young age that loving others was a mistake. It was asking for trouble, and exposing yourself to everyone with a huge, glaring weakness that they could take advantage of. He had been taught this by his father, a huge and terrible feline who he desperately vowed for the love of until the day that bastard had left. He had known deep down, even as it was happening, that he had been breaking all his own rules for Trevor. He had been growing attached. He had been getting so horribly, desperately attached to this crazy asshole who could probably kill him any second if he wanted to, but didn't. Instead he was just as loyal as ever, sticking to Michael's side like he was glued on there and watching his back. The mention of his partner made his heart ache, and he didn't even think before he was speaking, already slightly tipsy from the large sips of whiskey, "...Yeah. Yeah, I had a partner. His name was Trevor. Coyote. We used to travel together all the time. I was... listenin' to his voice..." He glanced back at the recorder for a moment, before a pained wince ran through him. God, he hated how much he missed that fucker. And he hated how weak a state Caustic was seeing him in. He was in such a state that he didn't even realize he had referred to Trevor as his "partner."

[glow=#75603C,1,000]" oh, it's a setup, no, no, we won't fall. "[/glow]

[CAUSTIC.]

[table][tr][td]

  CAUSTIC

Caustic was a habitually detached person. He had a few relationships in his life, barring coworkers and acquaintances. His relationship with his parents was was only natural, his mother doing him the greatest favor by confirming the burnt body at the labs to be his. He hadn’t talked to her in a decade, and the thought flew by if his mother was still even alive. He had a few other relationships though, with Luc, with Natalie, with Octavio. Supporting Natalie and her scientific breakthroughs was a requirement! Her engineering knew no bounds and she had a bright future ahead of her. Caustic was honored to be vanquished by her in the ring.
Caustic... wouldn't call what he had with Octavio love by any means, it was blood and obsession packaged ever so haphazardly into a small, thin Hispanic male. What he had with Luc? It was... Caustic shifted at the thought, his gaze briefly adverting to the wall as the Frenchman's face flashed across his vision again. Luc had been so soft, patting his back when Alexander coughed blood into the sink and holding his hand as his oxygen tank supported his lungs.
Luc was gone now, six feet under and replaced by someone so unbelievably willing to throw themselves into danger for attention. Just so Caustic would look at him, and only him. Caustic knew the sum of Octavio's parts too well, they were his.
Caustic's head turned back to Micheal, glancing at his mug and lifting it with a paw, taking a large gulp and feeling it burn. He could feel some of the alcohol miss his mouth and slide down his throat, dampening dark fur. He set it back down with a clink. Hearing Micheal finally speak again, his ears ticked forward, the little dots above his eyes tightening together in a face that could be interpreted as confusion or a scowl.
Perhaps inter-species relationships were standard here. Hm.
"How does a bobcat and a coyote meet eachother?" Normally, they would be competitors, but this entire dimension was full of unwelcome surprises.  "Was he a romantic partner?"

TAGS • PLAYLIST • PENNED BY OWLIE

[/td][td]

[/td][/tr][/table]

© LEXASPERATED

[michael t.]

Was he a romantic partner? The question shouldn't have really been that surprising, considering how he was just talking about Trevor in hushed tones, like the other was his entire goddamn world. However, Michael still felt himself recoil slightly in surprise and perhaps even the faintest bit of fear at the question stated to him. Had Caustic really seen through him that fast? He supposed he shouldn't have been that surprised, considering that he saw how analytical and intelligent Caustic was from the start, but he still felt his heart give an unpleasant little leap into his throat. Swallowing thickly, he tried his damnedest to focus on the first question, even as his head spun oddly and his recorder became a strangely heavy weight against his side. His voice was slightly hoarse as he spoke, his eyes flicking over to the bottle of whiskey rather than looking straight at Caustic, "We were both wanderers on the island... I was young. Maybe 15 months? Or 14... I don't know, exactly. At that point I was just beginning to come into my own, and I had been traveling from place to place, stealing and running before I could get caught... I met Trevor when he was doing practically the same thing. We ended up getting along pretty damn quickly after that.." He hesitated for a moment after that, seeming to struggle with what to do next with his words. Eventually he reached his paws out, claws clumsily scrabbling against glass as he pulled the bottle in so he could take another chug, for courage. When he placed the whiskey back down he continued, still able to feel the faint tingling in his chest and throat, "And he... and we... I don't know. We weren't romantic partners, not really. We were close. We... were really close, at times." He wanted to continue. Wanted to push through and add on the I loved him desperately clawing at his throat, but also too scared to actually do so.

[glow=#75603C,1,000]" oh, it's a setup, no, no, we won't fall. "[/glow]

[CAUSTIC.]

[table][tr][td]

  CAUSTIC

Asking if Trevor was a romantic partner wasn't some deep insight from the scientist, merely a request for clarification. He took another lap of alcohol from the mug, letting it burn down his throat, then looking back up to Micheal. "Partner" had many meanings and lacked true clarity to the nature of their relationship. Partners in crime, romantic partners, etc... "You were criminals together." He stated, waving his paw, one of the dots above his eyes raising. "Why is he not with you now?"

TAGS • PLAYLIST • PENNED BY OWLIE

[/td][td]

[/td][/tr][/table]

© LEXASPERATED