OH ROCK BOTTOM ☆ caustic

[michael t.]

Trying to move past the strange feelings worming their way through his form as a result of thinking about the nature of his and Trevor's relationship, Michael found himself just nodding mutely at Caustic's observation that they were criminals together. Yeah, that's all they were. Partners in crime, obviously. He swallowed down the strange lump that formed in his throat before he heard Caustic questioning him, his blue eyes blinking without recognition in the wolf's direction. The bobcat took a deep breath before he responded, a frown pulling at the edges of his mouth, "Well... since we were criminals together, that kinda ended up puttin' us in a lot of danger eventually. We were on the run from these guys called the Lost, and they came to me and offered me a deal. I go with them, and Trev gets to go scott free... so I agreed. And I let them capture me and take me back to their base. I eventually escaped and dragged myself here, but I've got no idea where T could be now. We were constantly traveling together, so he could be anywhere... I just hope he's safe." Putting his chin down against the cold rock floor of the cave, he let out a little frustrated huff of air, "Although knowing him, he probably got into trouble again."

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

[CAUSTIC.]

Caustic watched Micheal squirm with that deadpanned, hardened expression of his. His human face would have been abundantly clear- eyebrows furrowed together, frowning, eyes narrowed. That expression came across now as his lips twitching in the slightest as the dots above his eyes scrunched together.
Caustic was a criminal himself. Killing his supervisor then commit arson followed the standards for jurisdiction, but he had solved that issue by faking his death during the event and going into hiding for ten years. Perfecting his gas in secret had been a worthwhile toil, and watching it as it suffocated his opponents ever so flawlessly in the games was priceless.

"He sounds important to you." Caustic commented, finding himself taking another lap of whiskey and letting it run down his throat. A cough racked through Caustic's body, heavy and wet, a paw raised to his snout to cover it up. He took a few shaking breath, regaining control of his lungs and looking back up to Micheal, angry glare in his eyes.
Don't say anything about it.

"Hm. My lab partner was always getting himself into trouble as well."

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[michael t.]

He sounds important to you. Man, that was the understatement of the fucking year. Despite all of Michael's best efforts to deny it and shove his feelings far down beneath layers and layers of repression, he knew that Caustic was right. Trevor meant a great deal to him, and probably always would. Hell, he was the only person Michael had been willing to do something selfless for. Swallowing the lump that still plagued his throat, Michael moved to fumble with the bottle of whiskey to take another large swig before he responded, his head practically falling back to the floor with a soft thud, "He was very important to me. Still fuckin' is, wherever he is out there... I'll find him again someday. I'm sure of it." Immediately beginning to feel uncomfortable again, talking about his own emotionally charged relationship, Michael instead decided to focus on Caustic's. Eyes faintly lighting up at the mention of a partner – a lab partner, apparently, but Michael had his doubts – the bobcat felt a lazy smile come to his face, "Your lab partner, huh? What's he like? Batshit crazy as my 'lab partner'?"

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

[CAUSTIC.]

Caustic considered very few people in his life to be important. His parents, Luc, and Natalie. That was it. Attachments were unforgiving and unfruitful, and he would argue those were the only good relationships he had had in his life. Luc had always been so kind and tender, holding the
Frenchman's body in his arms broke his heart for years. Caustic was well-accustomed to death, lived in it and thrived in its presence. With the application of science, death was a controllable variable. Luc's death had been a shock to both, and Caustic had reject all notion of attachment since then.
But Octavio....
Caustic sat back when he was questioned about the speedster, rolling his shoulders and glancing at the wall. Octavio was a wild card, played into Caustic's hands over and over until his fingers were wearing away the ink. He had an affinity to danger, and walking into Caustic's lab was an easy ticket to pain and death. "Depends on your definition, of course, but Octavio was never right in the head in the first place." That much was true- Octavio vied for attention at all costs, putting his body on the line every day just for people to watch him. The daredevil called being underneath Caustic's scalpel home, and knew Caustic for the cruelness in his heart. They were awful together.
"An addict. He seeks danger and adrenaline like a moth to flame."

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[michael t.]

It was honestly a relief, being able to focus on the troubles and loves of another, rather than on his own lonely existence. Truly, the only person that Michael had ever considered important to him was Trevor. After all, he'd been born to a mother that hardly cared about his very existence, and a father who was a drunk who hated him, so why would they be important to him? Really, the only way that they held any importance in his life was how they had shaped him, into the greedy half hearted monster most saw before them. Listening to Caustic talk about Octavio... it actually felt nice, not being the most unhealthy one in the room. Stretching his dark paws out in front of him, the feline hesitated for a moment before he spoke, a dry chuckle leaving him – made even drier by the alcohol that had ripped up his throat, "An addict... well, that certainly sounds familiar, but not really in the same way as I'm used to. Danger and adrenaline came naturally to the life I lived with T... he preferred indulgin' in different addictions... you know where this Octavio guy is now? Or did his whole 'moth to a flame' thing end like... well, a moth to the flame?" From how Caustic was speaking about him, Octavio honestly could've been dead or alive, and Michael wouldn't have had even a chance to be able to tell.

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

[CAUSTIC.]

Caustic's parents did not shape Alexander. They did what they could, though. They supported him and his scientific breakthroughs, supported him through college, and bailed him out when he faked his death. He missed his mother sometimes, though.
Caustic was staring at the whiskey in his mug as Micheal began to speak again, pulling his eyes away to stare at the bobcat, making note of his wounds as he spoke. More questioning about Octavio- Caustic shift uncomfortably, rolling his shoulders and gas leaving his mouth in little puffs. When questioned about the speedsters fate, a deep, rumbling laugh. The scientist was laughing. It came from his belly and vibrated through his throat, for a few seconds before turning into a wheezing cough that Caustic directed into the floor. It racked his shoulders with each cough, until it sputtered out into a wheeze and he regained control of his breathing.
"To answer your question..." Control. Breathe. "Octavio has walked into flames so many times he can no longer feel its kiss. He... desires far more painful things now." He stares at the mug again. He takes a gulp. He looks back at Micheal. "He is still back home. Bored out of his mind, if I had to guess."

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[michael t.]

To hear Caustic laugh... well, perhaps some would have taken comfort, or satisfaction in the act of getting the scientist to laugh. After all, he seemed to generally be a pretty stoic and serious person, and Michael couldn't imagine that laughter was an overwhelmingly common experience. Despite this, rather than feeling any comfort or a smile split his muzzle when Caustic's deep laugh rumbled out from him, Michael felt his stomach dip down low, getting that odd feeling of prey to a predator that he had gotten when Caustic had found him at the border. He had almost forgotten how large the other was in comparison to him... almost. Before long, however, Caustic's laughter was cut off, strangled short by by a bout of coughing and wheezing. Michael's eyes widened slightly at that, the weight on his shoulders lifting a bit. Caustic wasn't invincible. He had his weaknesses, just as everyone else Michael had ever looked over. The bobcat decided to focus on the conversation after that, swallowing down the lump that had formed in his throat just moment's earlier before he spoke, "Bored out of his mind...? I suppose that y'provided him with plenty of the danger that he was always lookin' for?" He hoped that wasn't too rude of a question to ask, considering it just seemed like the natural conclusion to the things that Caustic was telling him. After all, what better source of danger than a huge scientist who looked at wounds like they were a gift sent straight from heaven?

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

[CAUSTIC.]

Caustic was rather detested by his own weaknesses. Back home, they were easily thwarted. He had medications for his illness and a prosthetic for his hand, but now he lacked both and his coughing was steadily getting worse. Another reason he needed to get out of here- being in this dimension greatly decreased the number of years he had left. If his disease or the wild didn't kill him first, it would be the wolf's own years. Caustic could have lived another twenty to thirty, easy, but now? He had six years at best. Three, more likely. He wondered, briefly, if he would have to start sourcing herbs for his cough, and such tasks sounded painfully tedious.
He looked back to Micheal now, his face pulling together to resume his hardened stare, another visual warning to say nothing about his cough, then relaxed as Micheal spoke of Octavio again. He felt his ears lay flat at the questioning, but his tail flapped against the cave floor at the thought of the speedster's chest cavity opened before him.
"Well..." The mug was empty. He grimaced. "You could say something like that. Octavio desired for certain things only I and I alone could provide him. It's mutual." They fight, they embrace, Octavio dies. A relationship of mutual understanding and absolutes.
It was a far cry away from what he had with Luc before Octavio came knocking on his door, but the speedster's blood on his hands could never replace Luc's fingers interlocking with his own.

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[michael t.]

From the very moment that Michael had met Caustic, he had figured out pretty quickly that the other became excited by... strange things. It wasn't exceedingly hard to figure that out, considering the way that the wolf had looked at the small bobcat's wounds with such delight when he had first dragged himself over the border. That fascination had almost been enough to make the thief turn back, if he had actually been able to get up. Really, the male didn't have too much of a leg to stand on, considering the way that his blood ran hot and his heart beat faster whenever he was on a heist or had some fuckhead who felt it was right to mess with he or Trevor beneath his claws. Despite this, Michael still found himself slightly disturbed when he noticed the thumping of Caustic's tail against the stone floor of the cave, the scientist evidently thrilled by the prospect of thinking about Octane's guts. It turned Michael's stomach, yet he forced himself to keep a straight face, groping around for the bottle of whiskey with his paws before he got a hold of it, pouring more into Caustic's mug. Once he was done with that, he mumbled softly, "Ah.. I'm sure that worked great for the two'a you. So... the two of you were just strictly 'lab partners'? Cause the way you put it, it sounds like a kinda fucked up codependent relationship t'me. Just with... weird injury stuff." Normally, Michael wouldn't have been so brave to just say such a thing out loud, but considering he had already drank quite a bit of whiskey, and his normal cowardly inhibitions were thrown to the wayside. Hopefully it wouldn't end up causing his untimely death. Or at least, if it did, Trevor wouldn't be grieving over an alive man anymore.

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

[CAUSTIC.]

Caustic couldn't help his attraction to the macabre, his mind too destroyed by apathy, work, and grief. He considered Alexander a different person entirely- the fledgling scientist had been naive and yet to realize his true value in society, as a researcher to observe. Alexander did things Caustic could never do again- open his heart, hold onto someone, feel compassion for another.
All things that went cold with Luc's heartbeat.
Octavio was different, of course.
It was debit and credited transactions of pain and death.... Caustic's thoughts are pulled away as Michael is refilling his mug, and his lips upturn. Caustic's ears slide back at the bobcat's words, and the wolf finally stands, towering over the other, eyes glowing in the darkness of the cave through his gas.
"Michael, you are not in any position to make assumptions about what I do." It wasn't codependent, it was mutual. They were in a balance of one another, equals in battle and pain alike.

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