magician's apprentice | been a hell of a ride but I'm thinking it's time to grow

[onebehind]

Dylan knew, coming out of the hospital if not going in, that getting sober wasn't going to be easy. He knew he'd have bad days and good days and days in between, and every therapist he's seen since then, every meeting he's been to has only reaffirmed that. They'd also armed him with a bag of tricks to deal with everything and everything in between, but -- well, today is one of the bad ones and nothing is helping. He's been pacing the house like a madman for the better part of the day, trying to find something to hold his attention long enough that he can stop thinking about running down to the nearest liquor store. He needs to get out of his skin. He's just shy of calling his sponsor. He needs to get out of the house.

He needs to get out of the house.

Stopping midway through moving a pile of books from one side of the living room to the other, he latches onto that idea and turns it over in his head. He needs to get out of the house.

He's moving again a second later, though this time, it's with a purpose, a clarity he hasn't felt like he's had in hours, days, weeks. He goes to Jack's room, tapping lightly on the door, and then after a beat and once he's been invited in, sticks his head in. Flashing him a smile that's equal parts reassuring and strained (he's fine, they're fine, this is nothing bad, he's just a little jittery, don't mind him), he tells him, "Hey. Pack your shit."

He has an idea. It'll be good for both of them.

Comments

[the_death_card]

"Are there other designs you can actually show me?" he asks - because he doesn't expect Dylan to give up anyone's secrets but he's curious all the same. If Dylan says no, he's not going to be mad about it, but he figured he would ask since he has the sketchbook already.

[onebehind]

Raking his tongue over his teeth, Dylan effects a thoughtful look. When he seems to reach some sort of conclusion, he shakes his head faintly. "Lemme -- lemme get back to you on that? Maybe when we're actually awake?"

He's sure there has to be something he can offer up, but he's not entirely sure what.

[the_death_card]

Jack nods. Fair enough. "Yeah, sure."

He's always going to be curious about anything in the business, so he'll take whatever Dylan can show him.

"So, like... if everything with your dad hadn't happened, do you think you'd've done stage stuff? Or still mostly the design part?" Or both, he guesses, since it's not like magicians can't design their own tricks.

[onebehind]

Like the smell of cooking food permeating a kitchen, a sense of longing and regret rolls off of Dylan in measures. He doesn't bother to try and tamp down on it, for as futile as it would be at this point. Thankfully, a wave of resolve flows in a second after it, grim and solid.

He won't be taking questions on that, at this time, but he does answer, "I'd definitely be doing a little of both. Set myself up doing a show at the New Victory in New York. Dad, he -- that's where he did his shows, when he wasn't doing pop up shit in the park, or ... "

Or dropping himself into the river in a safe.

[the_death_card]

Jack wouldn't push on that anyway, already resisting the urge to apologize for bringing up something else that gives Dylan negative emotions - but he has permission to ask, and he can't help but be curious.

"The New Victory's cool," Jack returns. "I've been in it a couple times when they've taken us to see the student matinees or whatever. I didn't know your dad performed there, though."

[onebehind]

"At night, yeah," Dylan confirms, nodding. "They do a lot of shit for a younger audience during the day, but." He shrugs. Truth be told, his father probably did some daytime performances, too. Stage magic has never really been something age banded.

[the_death_card]

"Awesome," he returns simply.

"What's like... your favorite kind of trick? Like, um... escape stuff? Or mentalist stuff? Stuff like that."

He knows Dylan's good at designing tricks that involve rigs and so on, yeah, but he's curious about what discipline Dylan favors in general.

[onebehind]

He takes a moment to consider that, and when he reaches some kind of conclusion, he gestures for the sketchbook. When Jack passes it over, he thumbs to the back where he finds a handful of blank pages that weren't there before, and carefully, he pulls one out. Once he has it free, he starts folding it casually, having seemingly decided to do something with his hands as they talk. In truth, though, it's part of the trick.

"Now, bear in mind, if this weren't all in my head, I'd be doing this practically. Actual origami paper -- " Or flash paper. He'll see why here in a second. " -- and shit, rather than sketchbook paper."

[the_death_card]

Jack leans forward to return the sketchbook - and then stays leaning forward, actually scooting forward a little in his seat so he can watch more closely. He absolutely recognizes it as part of the trick - as part of Dylan's answer to his question.

"I mean, paper's paper," Jack offers. It'll do, he means.

[onebehind]

He glances up from his work, which seems to be coming together in the shape of a rose, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.

"You know as well as I do that's bullshit." Paper is not just paper in their profession. "But yeah, it'll do." He pauses, expressing shifting into something a little more thoughtful. "Though, I guess I could've made the sketchbook pages into some of the nice origami paper I've got."

Hindsight is twenty-twenty. He's not going to change it now, however, for fear that that might muddle the performance.

[the_death_card]

Jack rolls his eyes, waving him off. "You know what I mean." He shrugs as Dylan goes on - but he doesn't comment again himself, content in watching the rose take shape.

[onebehind]

"I know what you mean, but I'm trying to make conversation," Dylan shoots back, making a face at him. If he'd had more time, he might have had a bit prepared as a distraction, but right now, he's improvising. So sue him if it's not that good. The magic part will be better, he promises.

That in mind, finishing up the flower, he holds it up, twirling it between his fingers so Jack can get a good look at it. Then, a second later and in a literal flash, the rose is on fire. When it dies down, it's a real rose between Dylan's fingers, and he holds it out to Jack to take, for inspection.

[the_death_card]

"Right, sorry," Jack returns, not sounding or looking at all like he's remotely sorry.

He does watch as Dylan finishes the rose - and then as it goes up in flames. His eyes and grin are wide and full of awe as he reaches out to take it.

"That's awesome."

And he knows here, in Dylan's head, he can make anything he wants happen, but he also knows well enough that Dylan could do the same trick in reality.

"So like close up stuff, then? Like me?"

Even without their connection, how pleased he is by the idea that they have that in common is obvious.

[onebehind]

"Pretty sure you mean like me," Dylan teases. He's quick enough to shift back towards something more serious, however. "But yeah. There's just something about seeing people's faces when you pull the rabbit outta the hat."

[the_death_card]

Jack tilts his head and narrows his eyes a little in response to Dylan's counter, but he doesn't actually address that part, just nodding to his next comment.

"Yeah, definitely. Especially when they think they know what's going to happen and then it's something else."

[onebehind]

"Exactly," he agrees, nodding, himself. A gesture towards the flower follows. "So, besides stealing guys' wallets, what's your go-to?"

He's probably seen Jack practice before, but he's never actually been on the audience end of one of Jack's tricks.

[the_death_card]

Jack huffs out a laugh. "Uh... that's some of it actually? Like, taking people's wallets and watches and stuff while I have them pick a card and all that? I give it back, obviously, but people usually think it's pretty funny." He pauses a beat. "Card stuff? Pick a card, suddenly it's in your pocket. Or your wallet. Or this guy's shoe, one time.

"Part of why I want a table is I wanna do the cup thing where you have one ball and then like five balls and then like. An orange."

[onebehind]

"I saw a guy once who basically swapped outfits with his help from the audience," he says thoughtfully, raking his tongue over his teeth. "Dunno if the guy was a plant, or if he genuinely pulled it off, but ... "

Dylan shrugs. Either way, it was good.

Either way, he gestures to Jack. "Show me something?"

[the_death_card]

Jack grins, nodding. "Yeah, I saw that too. I wanna do stuff like that eventually but I need to work up to it." There's some uncertainty there at actually getting physical with people on that level but he'll get there.

Jack pauses a beat - and then nods. "Yeah, okay. Um... I guess I need a deck of cards?"

He just has a moment to wander if Dylan needs to get him one since it's his head - but when he looks down again, there's a deck of standard cards sitting on the table between them. He pauses for a beat - and then shrugs and picks it up, shaking it out of the box and beginning to shuffle.

"Kinda hope this actually works since we're in your head...." he jokes, a little more Performance in his tone as he goes through a few shuffles.

[onebehind]

"I feel like it should," Dylan promises, glancing between him and the deck as he shuffles it idly. He's not trying to look for holes or tells, for when Jack tries to force a card or palms one. He's just trying to be the dutiful audience member, attentive but not overly so. "Or, it should if you feel like it should."

Jack's belief matters as much as his. He thinks, anyway.

[the_death_card]

Jack just nods as he shuffles. "It's never let me down before," he jokes. So far, he hasn't done anything unusual to the cards, considering he leans forward a little to fan them out across the table. "Okay, pick one. Don't tell me."

He makes a point of turning away and putting a hand up next to the eye closer to Dylan. It doesn't actually matter if he sees it or not, of course, but it's part of the trick.

[onebehind]

Dylan considers the lineup for a moment before drawing one at what feels like random. He looks at the card covertly, a poker player checking his hand at a high stakes table, and then sets it face down on his thigh, a hand covering it, just in case. "M'I putting it back in the deck?"

[the_death_card]

Jack drops his hand and turns back around once Dylan says he's ready. He leans forward to scoop the deck up and square it, holding it out to Dylan. "Just put it on top."

Once Dylan puts the card back on top, Jack proceeds to shuffle the deck a few more times, as well as cutting it. He is doing something now, doing a false shuffle where he keeps the top card in place every time he does - and then also keeping that card in place as he cuts it a few times.

He doesn't give Dylan long to examine that or think too much about it, though, as he turns toward a blank space on the nearby brick wall - and shifts enough where he has room to throw the deck.

As the other cards fall away, one remains wedged into a crack in the brick.

"Oops. Huh. You care to get that?"

[onebehind]

"Nice throw," Dylan tells him on the heel of a breath of a laugh. He's not as serious about that as he could be, however, recognizing that being able to pitch the deck as sloppily as Jack did and still get one card to stick takes skill.

Regardless, he does as he's told, standing to go retrieve the card. When he pulls it free of the wall, he glances at it and smiles. "What if I told you this wasn't my card?"

Oh, but it is, and there's a sense of wonder and pride that flows freely off of him, despite knowing how the trick was done.

[the_death_card]

From the way Jack is beaming, it's clear he got that - and that he knows he's good enough at that trick to not be worried that it didn't go right. "But it is, so you would be lying."