amicustenebris | Duplicity

[ Gold similarly takes a moment to muster himself, covering Carver's hand with his own to keep it there while he turns around to lead him out. He remembers his way out well enough, and if he doesn't verbally tell the other man they're turning, his hand comes back as something of a signal. It makes it easier to feel which way he's turning. ]

[ This part, at least, is familiar. He’s done trust exercises before. Run drills under varied conditions, including with limited sight. He’s been hit with tear gas before. Flashbangs. Gotten blood in his eyes. Sometimes, you just have to trust the person leading you.

Carver exhales through his teeth, but he doesn’t fight it. He moves where Gold leads him. ]

[ Getting them back to the Up doesn't take long, and Gold keeps his dialogue simple, relegated to directions, to the tasks before him, roads to reach. Almost like he is drawing Carver a map.

It's almost a relief when they reach housing and mount the elevator, but he doesn't fully trust that. It's something these people built. They want it to feel that way. ]

[ Funny thing is, Gold's good at this part. Knows what details to focus on, how much to give. Just enough to keep Carver centered. He doesn't move through through crowds, either, and he doesn't slow.

It's easier that way. They're moving.

Carver doesn't say a word, for his part. He just moves. And if sometimes he tenses up and tightens his grip on Gold's shoulder, that's just a thing that happens. And then they're in the elevator.

That happens, too.

Carver shifts so he can put his back to the wall and doesn't say a word. ]

We're in front of my door.

[ When at last they reach it, the smaller passage between his room and his neighbor's. The jingle of keys as he gets the door open. ]

No one comes in here without my permission. It is my duty to make certain of that, not yours. You are safe here. Do you understand?

[ You are safe here. What a joke. He's safe exactly nowhere. That's not how the world works. Carver's fingers twitch against Gold's shoulders but he doesn't laugh or sneer. Just holds still, and waits as Gold gets the door open. ]

No one comes here without your permission.

[ His voice is very flat. But he believes that much, at least. ]

[ He doesn't want to have to manufacture a reason for you to believe him when he says he's often the most dangerous man in the room, Carver, but he suspects, with a quiet sigh, that one day this terrible place will do that for him. He's not going to fail to show up when that happens. ]

Here then.

[ Once inside he closes and locks the door behind them. ]

By chance, did that survey appear on your device as well?

[ Carver’s fingers twitch again. He has a thing about enclosed spaces. The walls looming around him, enemies massing in the corners. Always, always on his guard. He prefers cramming himself into tight spaces to sleep because at least then nothing can sneak up on him. And now he can’t see.

Carver twitches. He doesn’t let go of Gold’s shoulder. ]

Yeah. Couldn’t get rid of it.

[ He spammed random letters. As you do. ]

Likewise.

[ He doesn't have enough to say whether or not it's connected, but after the books last month? Sure, maybe he's already looking for patterns. Like the more he understands will make him feel a little less out of control, here. ]

I'm doing my best not to engage with too much that's new -- that others are openly remarking on as new, anyhow. Not while I am still getting my affairs in order here.

[ He guides him over to the living area to sit for now. ]

[ There’s no part of this that isn’t hateful. He feels helpless, weak. No doubt by design. Utterly reliant on another person to navigate so he doesn’t crash into the furniture.

Cute. This is fun.

But he goes where Gold guides him. He sits his ass down. ]

Have to say, not seeing how this is a turn on for anyone.

[ His voice is very flat as he reaches up to undo the blindfold. ]

[ The room is at the very least not overdecorated; richer tastes here seem to vie for minimalism, which he honestly hates, it's not him.

He briefly considers stopping Carver's hands but doesn't. ]

I can imagine it has more to do with heightening your other senses.

Sounds like a good way to get dead.

[ He tugs the blindfold off, smoothing his hands over the fabric. It’s smooth. Didn’t irritate his skin. ]

How long until it wears off, you think?

It will teach you to rely on them when your eyes cannot be. You were not perfectly observant the first time your eyes opened. It took time to learn to pick up signs. Now you are simply using some time to learn to hone them.

[ A frown. ]

...I cannot say for certain.

[ Easy for you to say, Carver wants to snap. But he holds himself back. Worst part is, Gold has a point. If you rely too heavily on one thing, the enemy will exploit it. So, adapt.

Survive.

He exhales through his teeth. He sits stock still and he doesn’t move. ]

Fun.

[ So fun. Carver runs a hand through his hair. He knows where Gold is. Sort of. ]

If you did this to someone, how long would it last? Ballpark.

[ He doesn’t think Gold had anything to do with it, but Gold’s the only magic user he sort of knows. So. ]

Oh, if I did it? It wouldn't be temporary unless I wanted it to be.

[ He doesn't add any menace to that; it's just a statement of fact. ]

These people need us to continue to act within this maze they've built. It wouldn't do for them to permanently alter any of us. They don't even leave people dead, apparently.

[ Thing is, Carver has no reason to doubt that. Magic always has a cost, Gold said, but if it's worth paying? Then it's worth doing. And Gold's always struck him as the sort of man who does things thoroughly. Covers his bases.

No. If Gold wanted to blind someone, it would last.

Carver's fingers twitch. He stills them. ]

The unpredictability is part of it. Keeps us on edge. Wondering what's next. More control measures. Textbook, really.

[ Doesn't make it any less effective. ]

[ Carver has done this a few times now. Gold's eyes flicker down to his fingers in a quick glance, as though such a thing could be seen anyway. ]

You're probably right about that.

No, I mean it's literally textbook.

[ He snorts. Bitter humor. ]

One of the first things I was taught as an interrogator. Only they never went this crazy.

[ And he never let sex become a part of it. There had to be lines. ]

I don't doubt it.

[ It sounds about right but patience will do more than unpredictability when you literally can't get tired and your subject can. ]

Though if we apply that specific logic to recent events, then it seems somewhat counterproductive to get unpredictable after you've already been given answers. Unless they think you lied about something.

[ Assuming the survey is related. It's just the most recent thing. ]

[ Carver tips his head back, expression very thin. ]

Yeah, I might not have answered any of their questions.

Well, we won't make any assumptions for now.

[ Not going to sit here and harass a confession out of you unless it's clear that will actually undo anything. ]

Mhmm-hmm.

[ Really not in a mood for a lecture right now. Really not in the mood. Carver's fingers twitch again, then he exhales and holds out the folded cloth. Scarf? Whatever it was that Gold had on him and repurposed into a blindfold. And then he starts wondering what it is, exactly, that he's going to do while waiting for his sight to come back as magically as it vanished except go insane.

It's always been stillness that caught him. Idle hands.

Fuck. ]

It'll fade.

[ More to himself than Gold. ]

It's just a test.

Edited 2022-03-25 22:58 (UTC)

Yes, it is. And that's a handkerchief.

[ He stands to cross toward the dining area and kitchen. Keeping his hands busy in their own way, though with a second thought, he takes something out of one of the drawers in there. The sound of magic again, something like bells. Or disintegrating metal. Before he comes back again and presses something into Carver's hand. ]

Take this.

[ It feels like a cane. ]

Use it to feel around on the ground in front of you so you don't run into anything. Mind your temper and don't swing at anything with it.

[ Carver stills, listening intently. Trying to interpret the noise he hears. It sounds like - bells? Magic, maybe. He still doesn't understand how Gold's tricks work. Why some of it doesn't seem to take much at all, but others do.

He takes what's pressed into his hands, though. Running his fingers over the surface, frowning.

A cane. Like the one Gold uses.

His mouth twitches. Anger at his own goddamn weakness. But he doesn't refuse it. ]

I'm not going to break your shit.

[ Maybe. Probably. ]

Huff about it when I am elsewhere doing other things. I know that you are frustrated; you don't mask it well. And I know how easy it is to vent with something in hand. I simply ask that you break your own things if the urge comes.

[ He straightens his vest. ]

They already hauled me in to admonish me for making a mess in here once and that's why you got a close shave. I shudder to imagine how they'd expect me to correct the matter if you followed suit.

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