[Gerard gives a big huff at that, but, well, Eames is right. Besides that, he trusts Eames to just - get it over with if it comes down to it. Better than taking his chances and getting a Dominant who has no idea what he's doing and just fucks them both over for it.
he wonders if Arthur has something like that in his - if he's breaking contract along with keeping secrets. Gerard isn't a snitch, though, and stays silent on that front.]
You need to tell me if you run into any weird shit.
[The thought comes to mind suddenly, but once it takes root, well.]
Just - spooky shit, anything you'd qualify as 'strange' - I would say that doesn't need to be in the contract but I know how some of these fucks work and maybe if it's in the contract if they try to keep you from talking it'll be a work around for it, since this one comes before anything they have.
[ Eames looks up at that, brows arching curiously. ]
What do you mean by that? What is spooky or strange? And what would "they" be trying to keep me from talking about? You'll have to be a little more specific than that.
[There's clearly a few moments that pass as Gerard is considering saying never mind, forget that request, it's not worth it. He hadn't doubted when Eames told him he was the curious type.
He liked Eames, and there were things that happened to the curious type.]
Can't say I do. This person has something to do with these spooky strange things?
[ He's putting the pen and notepad aside for now, leaning a little closer while dropping his elbow on the counter to listen to Gerard. He studies him over the rim of his tea cup that he brings up for sipping purposes. ]
[Gerard nods, setting aside the sandwich briefly to sip the tea instead. It's nice. The taste reminds him of one of the few good parts of home.]
He's what's called an Avatar - what he's attached to has many names. The Eye, It Knows You, the Beholding...
[The Eye. You know, like how Gerard has all those eye tattoos all over him.]
The point is, he's very close to it. He's not the only one, but Jon's more of a danger to himself. I'm not saying to fight him on sight or anything, but - don't sign anything from him, not even a fucking receipt, okay? He's clever, and he's an asshole, and if you thought my knowing things was inconvenient...
You know those old stories, about how you're not supposed to say the devil's name because it gets his attention? Well. [Gerard shrugs.] Sorry. Might have just put you on his radar.
[ Eames listens, sips his tea and occasionally nods. It's not like all this is completely out of his realm of understanding. He likes to read. A lot. And while none of this rings a familiar bell, there are some symbolism and some connections that he makes easily to esoteric literature and dogma. ]
You shouldn't worry. I never sign anything. Aside from these contracts I have with Arthur and soon with you. I've never really given you the truth about what I do, but con-man isn't at all far from it. Trust me, I'm well aware of what's going on around me at all times, conning me to sign something is quite impossible.
So, avatar of what is he? And Jon, your friend?
[ Eames reaches to put his hand on Gerard's thigh, gently squeezing it. ] The more I know, the safer I will be. Knowing how to protect myself and people around me is an essential thing.
[Eames gets another look again, but Gerard will just have to trust him at some point, won't he? Trust him, or walk away. Pick one, Gerry.
He stays where he is.]
I suppose much of it is easier to swallow given everything here.
[Being taken to a different world, with all its strange people from hundreds of different worlds themselves. Eames isn't going to just scoff at him and think he's crazy.]
I can't speak for where you're from or anything, but - I mean, you said it yourself. Just because you don't know of magic or whatever doesn't mean it isn't there. Most people don't know about this where I'm from either. It's very ... specialized. Bunch of people have encounters, but who hasn't seen a shadow where there shouldn't be one, felt a cold spot, had an uncle who saw lights in the sky that were totally aliens? The point is there are Entities beyond the world we know. Right next to it, like, and they can't come all the way through as they are but sometimes they can ... push. Influence. Inspire. Whatever you want to call it. They're our fears.
Most people in the know subscribe to Robert Smirke's list of fourteen of them. It's kind of arbitrary as hell to categorize them all, but it makes it easier to understand for a lot of people. For some people, all they get is a third or fourth hand encounter- a sense of vertigo when they shouldn't have it, the sudden almost overwhelming compulsion to jump off a building when they've never felt the call of the void before in their life. But they shake it off and keep going. Others - devote all that they are to it, and are granted certain powers in return. We call those who've gone that far avatars of them, and with one exception that I've met - they're not themselves anymore by that point. Anything they once were is gone.
So that's what he is. He's not really 'Elias Bouchard' - Elias Bouchard is fucking gone, he's a fragment of his dread master that's wearing his face and using his name. Jon said some of the other Entities have shown up here and there to leech in their influence as well, but given it's got two avatars in town the Watcher is the big man on campus. Bright side there is the Watcher is less about fucking you over and more about sitting back and watching what happens as you fuck yourself over, the most action it takes being to give you enough rope to hang yourself with.
[ Eames has heard enough of weird stories from people in this place already that he kind of swallows everything up without even raising a brow at it. One hunts actual monsters, one lives in a spaceship, actually esoteric business like this is less far out than those things.
He listens to the explanation quietly and files away snippets of information while he builds a canon for it. This seems like the big picture here. He's sure to find the details that go with it. Eventually. ]
You said earlier that you're worried that the more I know, in more danger I will be in. And you mentioned naming the devil.
What if I'll offer you a way to tell me all of this, to the gritty detail, and not say a word aloud? Do it in half an hour too.
[ And maybe find a way to get a moment without those scars of his... He doesn't know if it'll change anything in terms of relying information on him but there's the offer. Eventually Eames is going go hook him up to a PASIV in any case, because there's just no way he's going to enter a contract with him and not do that. ]
Basically in terms of the contract, you want me to put in something about anything strange being reported to you?
[The idea of it is interesting, to be sure. Because Gerard also has a love for knowing things even when he knows he's going to regret the answer. He nods.]
I don't need a full fucking statement, just - I want to be able to know right away if you ran into anything I'm familiar with that's going to come back for you, and I want something binding that says they can't force you keep quiet on that.
[Think of it like the spooky version of Eames demanding to take control of Gerard's punishments, alright.]
What's the way to tell you this without speaking aloud? You psychic and holding out on me?
[ Eames nods and pens it down to the list. ] Alright. I'll try to word in a way that lets me keep some secrets from you. [ He teases with a playful little glance at Gerard.
He lets the question sit for a while as he finishes writing, and then looks up with a small, hideously enigmatic smile. ]
No, I'm not a spychic. Just very good at reading people. However, there is a way we can enter a dream together. And in a dream five minutes becomes an hour while our subconscious minds communicate.
[ He puts the paper away and takes a sip of his tea. ]
[Gerard rolls his eyes - he's got no doubts Eames will find a way to keep secrets even if he was ordered to tell only the truth. He's slippery that way. The dream sharing does perk Gerard's interest, though. A knee-jerk thought is to shut it down quickly and definitively. Gerard has nightmares, and he is rarely alone in them.
Maybe, though, it won't follow him if Eames is around. Maybe it won't know how to.
Maybe Gerard is just too fucking curious for his own good.]
Eames gestures towards the sandwiches as he stands up. ]
Finish those. I'll get us set up.
[ There's absolutely no point in pulling out the PASIV and having a little bit of a dip in it. Eames likes the infinite possibilities that dream space brings. ]
[Gerard is still concerned about what Eames will see in there, in Gerard... but isn't that better to happen now, before he signs a contract and ties himself to Gerard for at minimum 90 days? Steeled by that thought, that this will be the last chance for Eames to back out for his own good, Gerard makes short work of the sandwiches and the tea that's left, stomach no longer growling.
... might not be a bad thing to move in with Eames, really. As is, he's dangerously close to becoming horny and hungry just at the sight of the man. Stupid Pavlovian responses. Since Eames is busy setting his machine up, Gerard takes his dishes to the sink to wash so there's no mess left behind for Eames to deal with. Seems especially important Gerard is going to risk scaring the man.]
[ Eames sets them up in the living room, drags one of the arm chairs closer to the couch and sets it in a place where he can reach the PASIV without dropping to the floor when he goes under.
He sets the clock at ten minutes. Because five is very much too little with a person's first time in a dream. Then he gestures Gerard to join him. ]
Thank you for doing the dishes, [ he says with a small, fond smile and pats the couch. ] Lay down and try to find a good position. I need your wrist open, so you'll have to pull some of that back... [ His fingers find Gerard's forearm and slide down along it, teasing at the bottom of his sleeve with a few fingertips. ]
[He took his shoes off when he came in even if I forgot to write it so he strips off his overcoat next, rolling up the sleeve of his arm that will be on the outside of the couch for easy access for Eames. He isn't sure where the ideal entry point is so he just makes sure the loose sleeve is secured above his elbow, given that thanks to the scar tissue it's easiest to find a vein on his wrist or the inside of his elbow where the tattoos have left a halo of clean skin around themselves.
He still doesn't like showing skin, but he's getting used to it around Eames. Easy enough to find a comfy position on the couch. He's had a fickle relationship with sleep - like food - but getting comfortable was never the problem.]
[ Eames waits for him to settle down before sitting on the sofa table and draws a tube from the PASIV. He spends a moment just looking for the vein, turning Gerard's wrist around until he decides on the one on the inside instead of the back of his hand. Inserting it is a quick and efficient affair, it doesn't take more than a few seconds before he's taping the needle down and lets his fingers trail down to Gerard's palm and from there to his fingers, squeezing them for a moment gently. ]
You will know. Don't worry about it. I'll show you the ropes when we get there.
[ He leaves Gerard on his perch on the couch and finds a comfortable position in his chair. The needle goes into his vein without a fuss, he could do this without looking even. ]
See you on the other side, [ he says mildly as he reaches over to push the button. ]
---
They're in London. It's summer and sun is high on the sky. They're standing in line for for the London Eye and Eames hands their tickets at the front to the smiling gate keeper and opens the door to the capsule for him. They're going to be alone, what a treat...
"Did you say you've never been up there?" Eames asks mildly as he guides Gerard in. "I suppose this could be a dream come true. Or maybe just a dream that feels so real you'd think it's actually... real."
Saying Gerard lived in London his whole life was one of those "true but misleading" statements. It was the only place that his passport ever had as a residence, that was true. But his passport showed that he spent considerably less time there than, well, everywhere else for most of his life. How did one of the nurses put it, that he overheard? 'Very well traveled'. That said, in spite of always living there, he truly had never been to the Eye before.
In general, Gerard didn't have much time for things like ferris wheels.
"They're also called Observation Wheels," Gerard says mildly, going in when Eames directs him to, looking around the fully enclosed capsule. All alone in theirs, it'd be the perfect time to get a little frisky, under other circumstances.
"This is a dream," He says to Eames while he looks out the window, matter-of-fact, no disorientation or confusion to the statement.
"Yes," Eames replies warmly as he takes a seat and crosses his legs as he brings up a cigarette and lights it. He's conscious how much he smokes in real world but in dreams he can do it as much as he wants without any health issues.
"This is a dream. Your dream in fact. I'm the architect of it currently but you populate it with your subconscious. There are certain rules about how dreams work, love. But here you can do almost anything you like."
Almost. If you can brunt the consequences.
The pod climbs high above London with speed that doesn't correlate to how fast it feels. Soon there's a magnificent view opening below them.
"The key is to loosen up your imagination and know you can do something."
Gerard is very familiar with dreams. Nightmares, really. But there's certain things that are tells for him, that have always been tells to let him know. He takes out a cigarette to light his own - it wasn't cigarettes that killed him, after all.
"Mmm? Like what?" he asks, trying to distract himself from the watched feeling that's amplified a hundred fold since they got here. He can't see the Watcher in the sky yet but he knows it's there, or it wants to be and something about Eames being here is holding it back for now.
He just hopes it won't freak Eames out too badly when it opens.
On his hands, all the eye tattoos are still tattoos, thin delicate lines, small enough to be masterwork with how fine and detailed they are.
It's not the strangest thing Eames has seen, those tattoos. But it is rather fascinating, so he stares at them, playing a little game with himself while trying to figure out which one of them will blink next.
"Rules?" Eames asks. "Well, those are for people who start to mess with the dream itself. As long as you're just a spectator, you're fine like this, spectating."
He takes a long drag from his cigarette and slowly detaches the pod from the machine, making it float over the city.
"But when you start to mess with the reality of the dream, when things in the dream start to bother the dreamer, his subconscious, his innate idea of reality and how it works, things start to get hairy."
It's - well, magical. Seeing the city from above like this. He brings a hand out to press against the window as he looks down, and in the process his sleeve slips down a bit to show no scar tissue now. Gerard doesn't seem to have noticed it.
He's distracted, first by the delight of it, then by the pull in his gut, the sensation of being watched and before he even looks up instead of down, he knows what he'll see.
"Don't be afraid," he whispers to Eames. Above them, the eye opens, taking up the whole of the sky.
Okay, this has never happened before. Not with someone who isn't trained to shift the dream and design it to their will. The fact that Eames noticed no scarring is forgotten the moment that giant eye opens above them.
"What is that?" he asks tensely, his jaw tight and expression unreadable. Yes, he's a little scared.
"Is that common in your world? Eyes opening on the sky?"
Gerard isn't doing it. At least, he doesn't think he is, any more than bait in the water causes a shark attack.
The eye watches back, unblinking.
"The Ceaseless Watcher," Gerard says, because its here because if him, so he will have its focus anyway. His hand is still pressed against the window, still looking up as the colorless eye looks back down. Aside from the tension in his body, he gives no other sign of being afraid, himself.
"I've been marked by it since as long as I can remember. I get some protection from it-" the tattoos keeping back some of the burns "- but it isn't out of a sense of benevolence. It's because they're territorial. Common in the world? No. Common in my dreams? Almost every night."
"... you might need to be," Gerard says apologetically, finally turning away from the window to look up to Eames. "All it does is... watch. It's here for me, but it might be aware of you now."
Like Gerard says, it's not interested in hurting you- just giving you enough rope for you to hang yourself, and sitting back and watching the whole thing.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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he wonders if Arthur has something like that in his - if he's breaking contract along with keeping secrets. Gerard isn't a snitch, though, and stays silent on that front.]
You need to tell me if you run into any weird shit.
[The thought comes to mind suddenly, but once it takes root, well.]
Just - spooky shit, anything you'd qualify as 'strange' - I would say that doesn't need to be in the contract but I know how some of these fucks work and maybe if it's in the contract if they try to keep you from talking it'll be a work around for it, since this one comes before anything they have.
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What do you mean by that? What is spooky or strange? And what would "they" be trying to keep me from talking about? You'll have to be a little more specific than that.
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He liked Eames, and there were things that happened to the curious type.]
Do you know the name Elias Bouchard?
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Can't say I do. This person has something to do with these spooky strange things?
[ He's putting the pen and notepad aside for now, leaning a little closer while dropping his elbow on the counter to listen to Gerard. He studies him over the rim of his tea cup that he brings up for sipping purposes. ]
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He's what's called an Avatar - what he's attached to has many names. The Eye, It Knows You, the Beholding...
[The Eye. You know, like how Gerard has all those eye tattoos all over him.]
The point is, he's very close to it. He's not the only one, but Jon's more of a danger to himself. I'm not saying to fight him on sight or anything, but - don't sign anything from him, not even a fucking receipt, okay? He's clever, and he's an asshole, and if you thought my knowing things was inconvenient...
You know those old stories, about how you're not supposed to say the devil's name because it gets his attention? Well. [Gerard shrugs.] Sorry. Might have just put you on his radar.
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You shouldn't worry. I never sign anything. Aside from these contracts I have with Arthur and soon with you. I've never really given you the truth about what I do, but con-man isn't at all far from it. Trust me, I'm well aware of what's going on around me at all times, conning me to sign something is quite impossible.
So, avatar of what is he? And Jon, your friend?
[ Eames reaches to put his hand on Gerard's thigh, gently squeezing it. ] The more I know, the safer I will be. Knowing how to protect myself and people around me is an essential thing.
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He stays where he is.]
I suppose much of it is easier to swallow given everything here.
[Being taken to a different world, with all its strange people from hundreds of different worlds themselves. Eames isn't going to just scoff at him and think he's crazy.]
I can't speak for where you're from or anything, but - I mean, you said it yourself. Just because you don't know of magic or whatever doesn't mean it isn't there. Most people don't know about this where I'm from either. It's very ... specialized. Bunch of people have encounters, but who hasn't seen a shadow where there shouldn't be one, felt a cold spot, had an uncle who saw lights in the sky that were totally aliens? The point is there are Entities beyond the world we know. Right next to it, like, and they can't come all the way through as they are but sometimes they can ... push. Influence. Inspire. Whatever you want to call it. They're our fears.
Most people in the know subscribe to Robert Smirke's list of fourteen of them. It's kind of arbitrary as hell to categorize them all, but it makes it easier to understand for a lot of people. For some people, all they get is a third or fourth hand encounter- a sense of vertigo when they shouldn't have it, the sudden almost overwhelming compulsion to jump off a building when they've never felt the call of the void before in their life. But they shake it off and keep going. Others - devote all that they are to it, and are granted certain powers in return. We call those who've gone that far avatars of them, and with one exception that I've met - they're not themselves anymore by that point. Anything they once were is gone.
So that's what he is. He's not really 'Elias Bouchard' - Elias Bouchard is fucking gone, he's a fragment of his dread master that's wearing his face and using his name. Jon said some of the other Entities have shown up here and there to leech in their influence as well, but given it's got two avatars in town the Watcher is the big man on campus. Bright side there is the Watcher is less about fucking you over and more about sitting back and watching what happens as you fuck yourself over, the most action it takes being to give you enough rope to hang yourself with.
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He listens to the explanation quietly and files away snippets of information while he builds a canon for it. This seems like the big picture here. He's sure to find the details that go with it. Eventually. ]
You said earlier that you're worried that the more I know, in more danger I will be in. And you mentioned naming the devil.
What if I'll offer you a way to tell me all of this, to the gritty detail, and not say a word aloud? Do it in half an hour too.
[ And maybe find a way to get a moment without those scars of his... He doesn't know if it'll change anything in terms of relying information on him but there's the offer. Eventually Eames is going go hook him up to a PASIV in any case, because there's just no way he's going to enter a contract with him and not do that. ]
Basically in terms of the contract, you want me to put in something about anything strange being reported to you?
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I don't need a full fucking statement, just - I want to be able to know right away if you ran into anything I'm familiar with that's going to come back for you, and I want something binding that says they can't force you keep quiet on that.
[Think of it like the spooky version of Eames demanding to take control of Gerard's punishments, alright.]
What's the way to tell you this without speaking aloud? You psychic and holding out on me?
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He lets the question sit for a while as he finishes writing, and then looks up with a small, hideously enigmatic smile. ]
No, I'm not a spychic. Just very good at reading people. However, there is a way we can enter a dream together. And in a dream five minutes becomes an hour while our subconscious minds communicate.
[ He puts the paper away and takes a sip of his tea. ]
Do you want to try it?
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Maybe, though, it won't follow him if Eames is around. Maybe it won't know how to.
Maybe Gerard is just too fucking curious for his own good.]
... yeah. Can we?
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Eames gestures towards the sandwiches as he stands up. ]
Finish those. I'll get us set up.
[ There's absolutely no point in pulling out the PASIV and having a little bit of a dip in it. Eames likes the infinite possibilities that dream space brings. ]
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... might not be a bad thing to move in with Eames, really. As is, he's dangerously close to becoming horny and hungry just at the sight of the man. Stupid Pavlovian responses. Since Eames is busy setting his machine up, Gerard takes his dishes to the sink to wash so there's no mess left behind for Eames to deal with. Seems especially important Gerard is going to risk scaring the man.]
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He sets the clock at ten minutes. Because five is very much too little with a person's first time in a dream. Then he gestures Gerard to join him. ]
Thank you for doing the dishes, [ he says with a small, fond smile and pats the couch. ] Lay down and try to find a good position. I need your wrist open, so you'll have to pull some of that back... [ His fingers find Gerard's forearm and slide down along it, teasing at the bottom of his sleeve with a few fingertips. ]
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even if I forgot to write itso he strips off his overcoat next, rolling up the sleeve of his arm that will be on the outside of the couch for easy access for Eames. He isn't sure where the ideal entry point is so he just makes sure the loose sleeve is secured above his elbow, given that thanks to the scar tissue it's easiest to find a vein on his wrist or the inside of his elbow where the tattoos have left a halo of clean skin around themselves.He still doesn't like showing skin, but he's getting used to it around Eames. Easy enough to find a comfy position on the couch. He's had a fickle relationship with sleep - like food - but getting comfortable was never the problem.]
How will I know it's working?
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You will know. Don't worry about it. I'll show you the ropes when we get there.
[ He leaves Gerard on his perch on the couch and finds a comfortable position in his chair. The needle goes into his vein without a fuss, he could do this without looking even. ]
See you on the other side, [ he says mildly as he reaches over to push the button. ]
---
They're in London. It's summer and sun is high on the sky. They're standing in line for for the London Eye and Eames hands their tickets at the front to the smiling gate keeper and opens the door to the capsule for him. They're going to be alone, what a treat...
"Did you say you've never been up there?" Eames asks mildly as he guides Gerard in. "I suppose this could be a dream come true. Or maybe just a dream that feels so real you'd think it's actually... real."
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In general, Gerard didn't have much time for things like ferris wheels.
"They're also called Observation Wheels," Gerard says mildly, going in when Eames directs him to, looking around the fully enclosed capsule. All alone in theirs, it'd be the perfect time to get a little frisky, under other circumstances.
"This is a dream," He says to Eames while he looks out the window, matter-of-fact, no disorientation or confusion to the statement.
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"This is a dream. Your dream in fact. I'm the architect of it currently but you populate it with your subconscious. There are certain rules about how dreams work, love. But here you can do almost anything you like."
Almost. If you can brunt the consequences.
The pod climbs high above London with speed that doesn't correlate to how fast it feels. Soon there's a magnificent view opening below them.
"The key is to loosen up your imagination and know you can do something."
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"Mmm? Like what?" he asks, trying to distract himself from the watched feeling that's amplified a hundred fold since they got here. He can't see the Watcher in the sky yet but he knows it's there, or it wants to be and something about Eames being here is holding it back for now.
He just hopes it won't freak Eames out too badly when it opens.
On his hands, all the eye tattoos are still tattoos, thin delicate lines, small enough to be masterwork with how fine and detailed they are.
Out of sync with one another, they blink, slowly.
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"Rules?" Eames asks. "Well, those are for people who start to mess with the dream itself. As long as you're just a spectator, you're fine like this, spectating."
He takes a long drag from his cigarette and slowly detaches the pod from the machine, making it float over the city.
"But when you start to mess with the reality of the dream, when things in the dream start to bother the dreamer, his subconscious, his innate idea of reality and how it works, things start to get hairy."
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He's distracted, first by the delight of it, then by the pull in his gut, the sensation of being watched and before he even looks up instead of down, he knows what he'll see.
"Don't be afraid," he whispers to Eames. Above them, the eye opens, taking up the whole of the sky.
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"What is that?" he asks tensely, his jaw tight and expression unreadable. Yes, he's a little scared.
"Is that common in your world? Eyes opening on the sky?"
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The eye watches back, unblinking.
"The Ceaseless Watcher," Gerard says, because its here because if him, so he will have its focus anyway. His hand is still pressed against the window, still looking up as the colorless eye looks back down. Aside from the tension in his body, he gives no other sign of being afraid, himself.
"I've been marked by it since as long as I can remember. I get some protection from it-" the tattoos keeping back some of the burns "- but it isn't out of a sense of benevolence. It's because they're territorial. Common in the world? No. Common in my dreams? Almost every night."
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"It's a little creepy, love," he says quietly, his voice almost a whisper. "Is this what you talked about it looking into you when you look into it?"
Whatever it is, that giant eye, it gives Eames so many creeps he doesn't even know how to count them.
And they still have two hours in the clock. So, there's no out from the dream without... well. Things he'd rather not introduce to Gerard.
"Should we be worried?"
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Like Gerard says, it's not interested in hurting you- just giving you enough rope for you to hang yourself, and sitting back and watching the whole thing.
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