amicustenebris | Duplicity

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.

Yeah, you got all kinds of experience there.

[ It comes out droll, all insolence and a low-burning intensity. Do something about it, old man. But that's the rub, isn't it? They know things about each other now.

Carver snorts. ]

They'd probably graduate to the real nasty shit. Not like I haven't taken a beating.

[ But it wouldn't just be a beating, he has a feeling. No, it'd be something worse. Something smarter.

His fingers twitch against the cane. ]

I don't take stillness well. I'm wired funny like that.

...I don't raise my hand to people I'm responsible for.

[ He's tidying around the room again. ]

So if you're after attention, I would rather you try for something else.

[ At Carver's complaint, he pauses in place and considers. That's a mood. ]

If you want to keep your hands busy, I'm sure we can find something.

Gotta keep people in line somehow.

[ Idle talk, words just for the sake of them. It's not like the violence means anything, theoretical or otherwise. Carver's been beaten. He's dealt out beatings, and worse. It's just how things are these days. You accept it and you survive, or you fight against it and then you suffer for a good long while before your body realizes it's dead.

These things happen.

Carver snorts, tapping his fingers against the cane. ]

Thought you didn't want me breaking anything. Unless you want to fuck, in which case, babe, why didn't you say something earlier?

[ He's going sharp. Biting, tensing up, searching for a pressure point he can exploit. He just gets like this sometimes. Has to push, push, push until something gives. ]

...!

[ He is suddenly very grateful Carver can't see when he feels himself blush, wheeling at him to lecture, but he stops himself. The loss for words is still more than audible, though.

He's trying to get a rise out of you, he realizes.

Well. For some reason the fact that he can't see him makes that make more sense, in his eyes. ]

Really.

[ Like he's swearing at something. ]

[ Yeah. That hit a nerve, didn't it? Carver grins, feeling reckless. Better than feeling trapped by the stillness, though. Better than feeling nothing but lost. ]

What's that saying? When in Rome?

[ He leans forward. Eyes bright, and utterly useless. ]

But it did cross your mind, huh?

[ A soft scoff in the direction of the dining table, which he is clearing off to clean. ]

I did not say that would be a requirement for accepting my favor.

[ You ass.

Reiterating that he wasn't using this as an excuse to use the other man for anything, but always drawing a line to be crossed, in terms of whether the man was communicating his own wants or merely framing them as Gold's. ]

But you thought about it.

[ He pounces, sensing an opening. A pressure point. Not like Gold had any problem tiring him out last time. It took hours. Some impressive goddamn shit right there. You wouldn't think Gold had it in him, to look at him. But people surprise you sometimes. All those layers underneath the surface. All those secret pieces of themselves they keep locked down. And there's always that question, isn't there? How far would he go if Carver got him well and truly angry?

Oh, they could find out. They could fucking find out.

There's something wrong with him, Carver thinks distantly. This part of him that always has to push when things get quiet. He wasn't always like this.

But he is now. And pushing someone else into violence is better than being trapped in stillness, with his own thoughts ripping wild through his skull. ]

I think about it, [ he continues, vicious. ] I think about what you'd do once you worked up the nerve.

[ Gold knows what he's doing. And why. And knowing that should mean he doesn't feel any real desire to push back, but he was always bad at backing down when cornered, even in an argument that was clearly just manufactured to provoke something other than violence.

But also hearing Carver say he's thought about it? Probably shouldn't heat him under the collar as much as it does. ]

And here I am. [ He forces the smoothness in his voice, pushing back, maybe? Issuing a challenge? He wants to see what he'll do. ] Wondering where yours is.

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