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]

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."

[onebehind]

Holding the card so that Jack can see it, he glances at it, then at him, eyebrows raising. "Would I?"

With a quick snap, the card changes from what was, in fact, Dylan's card to the King of Spades. He smiles a little, quietly pleased with himself, and then drops his hand, padding back over to Jack. When he drops the card back on the coffee table, it's the Spade and Dylan's card. Clearly, that was a practical effect and not a trick of the mind.

"Seriously, though," he tells him as he settles back down on his couch, "it's a good trick."

[the_death_card]

Jack's grin doesn't fade, and he laughs as Dylan returns to his seat.

"Thanks. I'm working on a couple different versions of that? That's just kind of the first one I learned."

The actually first one he learned involved a piece of scotch tape but he doesn't have that here, and having it stick in the brick works equally well.

[onebehind]

Dylan nods -- then seems to consider something, raking his tongue over his teeth as he does so. When he seems to figure out how to word whatever it is he wants to ask, he says, "What do you do if you don't have a wall handy?"

He figures Jack has a way of making it work still, but he's curious as to how.