[ wash listens. he recognizes the care that d'artagnan is taking with his words, measured, careful, trying to make sure he expresses himself clearly, and wash is patient and attentive, that unwavering focus and attention narrowed in entirely on him. only when d'artagnan is finished speaking does he nod, moving to take a seat on the couch -- gesturing for d'artagnan to sit, too, disregarding the ropes for now. ]
And you've talked to her about it, yeah? Because if your main concern is what it might do for her, what she gets out of it, what you can help her achieve in it -- she's probably a better person to talk to than me. [ he tips his head slightly. ] But you're here.
So, if you don't mind me asking -- what did she tell you? And what about her answers wasn't enough?
[ he thinks he understands at least some of what d'artagnan's after, maybe not in its entirety. but given that the man is clearly trying earnestly, wash is resolved to do his best to listen and work with him, and hopefully they'll reach what he needs. ]
[Quick to abandon the ropes, with gratitude he refuses to show in his eyes or mannerisms, he takes a seat on the couch, posture somewhat tense and leaning forward, elbows on his knees. Wash's question gets an immediate soft and hardly audible distressed noise from D'Artagnan, and he shrugs one shoulder slightly.]
Well... No.
[Looking over at Wash then, it's with somewhat of a sheepish expression he tries to manage better in his embarrassment of having this obviously better idea thrust upon him too late.]
It was two months ago when I'd declined her request and we'd not... At the time, it was not a question, not something I'd wished to pursue, and now that it is, that I've thought about it and considered things, I'd... I didn't bring it up with her. I just...
Well. [ another raise of an eyebrow, not going to hide his clear amusement, but -- his expression quietens again after a moment. he won't give you too much shit. ] While I do still think I can help, I'm going to suggest that you talk to her about it.
[ and while he won't say so out loud, wash is perfectly happy with meddling a little on this front. because he's gonna be nice here and not breathe a word about this to ororo, but if you take too long to bring it up to her. he will absolutely tell her. don't be dumb. but hey, maybe talking or trying some things out here will help him figure out how to talk to her later, and that's fine too. ]
I'm not her, so I can't really tell you about what she specifically might want out of it or what she wants to achieve from it. I can just tell you about me.
[Inhaling deeply through his nose, he nods without protest on that suggestion. It is something that should be discussed with Ororo, but what he's wished to know had only struck him now when asked directly about it, and in hindsight, D'Artagnan doesn't feel his accidental obfuscation of his keeping that from her is without justification, for she might, like he'd said of Eloise, be more placating and accepting of his reluctance, and they'd not make progress at all. It may be an issue in itself, that he still believes her to think him fragile, emotionally delicate, and in need of protection. No, this was the right choice.]
We can start there.
[Even if he finds this unhelpful in the end, Wash's perspective and the personal feelings he may wish to disclose, the experience is not without its merit.]
[ wash understands, ultimately. maybe he's making a few assumptions, and he ultimately doesn't know d'artagnan too well, but. how long has he been contracted with natasha, how long has he avoided pushing anything with her despite both of them being aware that that's something they'd both enjoy -- and how long did they just not talk about it? far too long, and wash is only recently getting better at it. but he's comfortable being a blatant hypocrite about it. talking to ororo's the right thing to do.
but where does he start? wash is painfully self-aware by necessity, and knows what he gets out of this, but it's always a bit difficult just explain in plain words. it's why he's suggested showing d'artagnan and offered to tie him even if just slightly, but it's clear that d'artagnan has little interest in that aside from pushing back against him out of some perceived slight to his ego, and that's not something wash wants to play into. if d'artagnan brings it up himself, then sure, but otherwise. he's quiet for a moment, fingers drumming lightly against his leg, in thought.
he looks back at d'artagnan, his gaze too-focused, as always. ]
Did you know I can't forget?
[ punctuated, only half-intentionally, by the weight of his gaze. he promises its related. ]
[In that small window of silence, in the other man's contemplation, D'Artagnan thinks this might go as it had with Amelia, where his own indecision on how to approach such matters lends itself only to abstract discussion that further confuses him. He's failed with this every time, his quest to educate himself on the purpose of the concept of dominance and submission that isn't tainted by the city, broadly, and so how can he expect any clarity in one particular circumstance he wishes to focus on? It's muddied in his thoughts already, and when Wash speaks again, D'Artagnan isn't sure he'd rather have simply been dismissed.]
... Forget what?
[He furrows his eyebrows in genuine confusion, not taking the question as an absolute, but as having missing context.]
[ an easily misunderstood statement, given that it's a bit out of nowhere and the grammar just kind of sounds off without context. he shakes his head, with a small, amused sound. ]
That was the end of the sentence. I can't forget. Anything.
Perfect memory. I wasn't born with it -- it's, ah. An unfortunate consequence of my time as a soldier. [ a half-shrug, leaning back slightly on the couch -- but his eyes, fixed on d'artagnan. too sharp, foo coused, as always. ] Everything I see, touch, hear, even for a moment, I have it perfectly memorized for as long as I'll live.
[ he'll let that rest a bit to let d'artagnan consider the implications of it. they're both soldiers, and while wash hasn't talked about his experience, war is war, no matter what world its in. the things wash has done, they aren't far-off memories. they always feel fresh. like some of the worst things he's done only happened minutes ago. ]
It's part of my control problem.
[ not nearly all of it, but. enough to give d'artagnan an idea.
given d'artagnan's questions and confusion, wash is of the belief that discussions about the concept of power dynamics and control aren't needed, because d'artagnan already knows them -- and of fucking course he does, when he's been living in this city for as long as he has. he just struggles to see what he himself might want in it, if anything, to see how he might fit in it. the solution wash is arriving at, partially in response to d'artagnan's earlier honesty, is to instead be extremely specific to his own experience. where it comes from, how he'd gotten there, what he gets out of it, where his uncertainties lie.
but he's here to give d'artagnan that understanding, not to make him play therapist. so while he gives him time to wrap his head around the idea, he's not going to let it rest for too long before at least making sure they'll stay on that point. ]
It's a lot of why I ended up getting into this, even before I arrived here.
[An unfortunate consequence... D'Artagnan has no direct comparison to something in his own experience as a soldier, but had they technology like that here, like what had been planted subconsciously within him as a result of his last citation, he thinks he might vaguely understand what a violation that must've been. The memory itself, Wash's capabilities he's revealing, some may think it a boon, but D'Artagnan immediately rejects that. It would be nothing short of continual torture, having nothing of the grace allotted by time in the fading of memories, complete and sharp, everything he's seen, everything he's done. D'Artagnan ducks his head for a moment, for he cannot let this man see him start crying over this, but he feels like it, the empathy nearly drowning him and making his chest tight. It's only a moment he need gather himself, ashamed in that reaction, for none of it happened to him, but... Focusing again on the point of it, why the man had spoken of it in this context, he makes an acknowledging noise, the only sign of his continued upset his fingers twisting together in now clasped hands.]
It gave you something to focus on in your attempt at distraction from your thoughts?... But something more... that you might take control of your mind, deliberately, prove to yourself... you're not part of that collective any longer, not what they made you, but your own person.
[It still sounds like a question, all of it, his assessment lacking confidence and insight, no conviction in what he's trying to understand.]
[ it is a boon in some ways that wash readily takes advantage of, but -- especially with how it came to be, with the life he's lived. calling it literal torture wouldn't be an exaggeration. and yet he'd never give it up, in all his experience of all the fantastical things available here has never sought a way to get rid of it. part of his tendency to self-destruct, probably, but its also just part of him. who he is. he's had to reconstruct who he is piece by piece out of a countless memories that aren't even his, and he wouldn't know how to define himself any other way.
but that's lost on most people. the constant vigilance, the need for him to keep memories at bay, to make sure he holds onto who he is and where he is and what he's doing at any at all times. though people tend to understand at least some of difficulties of it if they think about it for a while, to most that wash has shared that with, its just been something interesting he can do. so while he can't quite see how upset d'artagnan is, while wash can't see into his head -- the fact that his immediate reaction was to turn away, his hands wringing. that's different.
he appreciates it, though. but he won't call him out on it, or linger on it -- but there is a definite pause of slight surprise in answer to d'artagnan's assessment. because it's closer than most people get, even after having known him for longer, painfully close for someone who doesn't know any of what wash's been through. not part of that collective any longer -- not what they made you -- memories of white walls and steel pressed against his spine flicker briefly through his thoughts, right in front of his eyes, clear as day, but. he's very well-practiced, by now, after all these years, in not letting himself slip into it.
he nods. ]
Yeah. Definitely. [ his voice is light, calm. whatever d'artagnan's thinking of, he can see the way his hands are working, and -- he's okay. really. all things considered. he'll try to bring him back. ] Also just means I like learning new things. I'm not a genius, memory isn't the same as processing the information I get, but I still learn very quickly compared to most, depending on the skill.
Before the bonus memory kicked in, I'd restrained partners before, but just simple things. I knew my way around rope, but just using cuffs or something was fine. I still liked being in control. But after. [ he didn't just like it anymore. he needed it. ] After, I started getting into rope just as something to learn. Things to fill my head, and something to do with my hands.
[ something that wasn't just -- killing. ]
And to be honest with you, that was where I thought it'd stop. I didn't really think I'd genuinely do it with people, because I couldn't trust myself to. But I started doing it anyway.
[That confirmation isn't one D'Artagnan will ask details on, wouldn't even if the man hadn't moved past it. He'll not get mired in feelings, his or another's, not presently. It rarely serves him well, and it's part of what he aims to reclaim control of. He'll not fail so quickly. As he listens, his fingers still and break apart, and he leans back more on the couch. He nods, though Wash's experience isn't his, but he understands the escalation of it as something he enjoyed then becoming more focused interest, to cloud intrusive thoughts, unwanted reflections.]
Recently, I took up whittling, woodcarving, for those reasons. I'd stopped... patrolling in the Down, stopped fighting, and I didn't know what to do with myself when I needed to fill that... space with something, that wasn't violent or terrible. I have control in that. I want control in this. I don't want to... be afraid of myself. It's irrational, isn't it?
[He makes a disdainful noise then, thinking he'd been rather incoherent, or perhaps naïve in his comparisons, simplifying it.]
[ whittling, that's a good one. not something wash's ever personally sought out, but something he quietly tucks into the back of his mind as something he could do, since he already has the base knife skills -- but the distance from the knife skills are what appeals to him about a lot of what he gets into. wash nods. ]
I'm actually pretty good with a needle and thread, now. Or knitting.
I don't know you that well, or what's in your head, so I can't tell you how rational it might be. [ fear is sometimes a purely instinctive response, but other times, a logical one. wash doesn't like when people tell him that he has no reason to distrust himself, because he does. he needs to be careful. he needs to stay vigilant. maybe d'artagnan's the same, and maybe he isn't. but regardless; ] You aren't just in control or not -- it's not just something you are. It's something you do.
[ and for some people, the thing it is they're doing might be simple enough to fade in the background. but for wash, for whom mere existence and exerting himself as a person against the constant pressures in his head is a continual and conscious effort -- the work is part of the point. being afraid of what might happen if he doesn't is part of the point. he chooses to continue to exert control, chooses to continue to exert who he is. to separate it from who he doesn't want to be. ]
I choose what I'm doing. I choose what I want to be. Something not violent or terrible, as you said. And I didn't want to tie anyone or push anyone too far, because I always saw it as violent, aggressive. [ he shifts slightly, makes a small sigh as he leans forward. ] And sometimes it was. I wasn't always so careful.
But people began to ask it of me. And I started to see it differently.
[D'Artagnan makes a small amused noise at those listed hobbies, not because he sees something such as knitting as unbefitting as perhaps interpreted, but because he'd been given a book on leatherworking as a recent gift, and he intends to take up needle and thread himself. He sobers instantly as Wash addresses something of far more importance to D'Artagnan, words piercing deep inside him in a way that allows him to breathe through what he'd felt a stifling restriction for far too long. The simplicity of it, the truth of it, gives him something to hold onto almost desperately, for no one has ever implied, let alone told him outright, that only he can determine whether or not his thoughts, his fears, are founded and rational. That he's not dismissed as unwell or unstable, not seen as out of control independently to what he's able to direct and regulate. He's not mad, it's the others who can't see or understand him, and that's not his fault. Though he'd been able to stop his tears before they came just moments earlier, they arrive now, without accompanying hitch in his breath, simply sliding down his cheeks and he doesn't seem to notice, no attempt made to wipe them away.]
Thank you.
[His voice is low and even, nearly whispered, and the gratitude palpable, if arguably misplaced in his own interpretations of rather benign statements. He continues as if that didn't happen, that slip, no regard to the fact he's still crying, focused then on Wash's assessment of bondage that had also been his.]
I see it that way too — aggressive, violent, domination that is... not to be lauded. Asking it of me, I... I want to see it differently as you have. I don't want my perceptions to hold me back when I might be able to give... some form of solace to someone else, even if I don't understand it.
[ its been a long while since anyone's called wash insane -- the people who know him from home to have seen him at his worst are all gone, and by the time he'd arrived here he was already older, already with years of practice on how to hold a front and how to not immediately snap at the merest suggestion of instability. he'd probably still snap at it if it came up at the wrong time. sometimes, at his worst, he does really think he went mad all those years ago, that everything since has just been echoes and shadows -- sometimes he thinks he's the echo and shadow. but mostly, he fights it. pushes it back. chooses who he is. and that matters a lot, to him.
d'artagnan doesn't seem to entirely notice the tears falling. wash does, of course. but he doesn't seem in distress, just moved in some way, so wash will make no move to comfort him or address it. he doesn't know d'artagnan well enough to know what struggle he might have in his own mind, with his own demons, with whatever he calls irrational. but clearly d'artagnan sees something in wash's description of his own troubles. he'd have been happy to linger and talk about it more, but d'artagnan moves on, and so wash will, too. before they leave here today, wash thinks that he'll touch on it again.
but for now. he just nods, quiet and acknowledging, at his whispered thank you. whatever it is he managed to offer d'artagnan, he doesn't yet fully understand, but doesn't need to. that he offered him something at all is enough. ]
Sometimes people want that. The violence, the aggression. [ that's what felix had been, and some of wash's other partners in the past. complicated, messy. not a good example to set, but wash is committing to being honest about his own experience, hopefully to d'artagnan's benefit. ] So sometimes I'd take them up on it, feed into it. But I wouldn't recommend that.
[ but he did enjoy it. for better and for worse. ]
But I've had people approach me for it for different reasons -- and you've probably heard them before, yeah? [ or maybe he hasn't! he didn't talk to ororo like he thought he might have. and he doesn't want to assume, but ororo is a woman of such power, grace, and someone who in a way wash is quite sympathetic to seems to never stop working. how many businesses does she run here, and what he knows of her role back home, and the way she always looks after everyone around her -- and for someone like her, well. if he were to imagine. ] For some people their regular lives are exhausting enough that there's an appeal to letting go and letting someone else take the reins for a while. Some people are always thinking, always worrying, and just want to turn their thoughts off for a while. [ natasha's more like that. ] Some people like acting out just to get pushed down. Others just think its fun or sexy and there doesn't need to be much actual logic behind it.
You've said you've discussed things of this nature before, but with you not being the one in control. If you're willing to talk about it, what do you think you got out of those times?
[ wash is circling a little, mostly just trying to learn more about d'artagnan and what he already thinks and believes, in effort to resonate with him better with his own reasons. ]
[No, it's not something D'Artagnan would recommend for himself either, playing to the aggression, someone who wanted pain or violence. He knows people who do, and he doesn't trust himself with them, doesn't wish to engage like this with them, where he does with Ororo. Not only because he loves her and it's something she wants, but because he sees her possible desires in the way Wash describes this alternative; letting go, placing herself in trusted hands, where she need not be responsible for once. D'Artagnan knows she places too much responsibility on herself, has argued he not be part of that, but she persist, as he does with those he cares for as well. It's this, he thinks, or the latter, where Ororo might simply enjoy it in a sexual manner and D'Artagnan himself is overthinking it all. Wash's question has him shifting from a comment there, to reflecting on himself.]
Well... as you've made the suggestion there, it was... to stop thinking, at one point. I was overwhelmed so much I couldn't form any coherent thoughts and it was... calming, despite the intensity.
[His teeth press into his lower lip, and he does decide to continue with more specifics.]
It was those collars Submissives were given a few months past, that... triggered orgasms by way of a... remote? It was... I'd done that with her, my girlfriend, she'd been given the remote coincidentally. I'd been uncontracted. I was reluctant at first, to try it, but it was... I liked it, and I liked not having... this tide of relentless emotions. It was peaceful, inside that constant stimulation somewhere. At other times, what I've been... what I enjoyed, is having guidance, instruction, in what to do. I suppose that's also... to stop thinking. I might do too much of that, I fear, in directing and having all the control, that I... won't know what to do when it grips me so completely, the nervous thoughts and considerations and second guessing, and panic. It's not safe if I can't trust myself not to.
[ he listens, attentively as always, watching him, and -- subtle, but possibly noticeable is the way he isn't fully holding d'artagnan's eye, not chasing his gaze. he's looking slightly off to the side, clearly attentive and watching him. wash knows how he can come off, that intensity and focus in his expression that he can't at all turn off. some people find it an oddity or just a quirk that they can dismiss, some barely notice, some find it off-putting. but given that he's just told d'artagnan about his memory, that he's choosing to share some private thoughts with the same slow care from before that makes it clear he's thinking through, choosing his words -- he doesn't want to make d'artagnan feel even more self-conscious than he already does.
that its the collars, though. thats interesting. that'd been part of the trigger with natasha, too, what got them to finally start -- talking. they'd landed on not using the collars, themselves, but clearly it's worked out for d'artagnan with ororo, and, well. he and natasha still need to talk a lot more than they currently do, but file that into the blatant hypocrite file alongside everything else.
wash nods. ]
Again, there's things that you need to get by talking to her, not to me. [ like what, exactly, ororo might be want to get out of this. ] But what she was able to do for you -- Would you want to be able to do for her? Could you see yourself doing it?
[That comes out almost defensive, a little higher pitched and petulant, and D'Artagnan squirms slightly, once again harbouring thoughts that he should abandon this and talk to Ororo instead, return when he might actually benefit from instruction in the practicality of artistic knots. When he answers the questions, the first is with absolute conviction, but the second with tentative hedging.]
I want to... I think I could see myself there, but... I don't. Currently.
[With that admission, he feels as if he's made little progress in this conversation, not as swiftly as he'd like.]
I should've just said yes and tried it then.
[Thrown himself into it and let it all fall as it may.]
[ as before, wash won't balk at his defensiveness -- but as to whether he should've done it earlier? wash shrugs, with a slight shake of his head. ]
You were worried, and not without reason. I can't speak for her, but I'd much rather you be a little overly cautious instead of being gung-ho about seizing control over someone else.
[ d'artagan clearly tends towards reckless impulsivity rather than caution, but hey. when it counts, when he worries for someone he really cares about -- clearly he's capable of putting on the brakes. and wash believes that's a good thing.
now that d'artagnan's been able to reach that conclusion out loud, though, and especially with that defensiveness -- wash will turn it around back on himself, for a while. fair's fair. ]
For me, giving up control wouldn't be a relief. [ everything about even the idea of it seems absolutely fucking horrifying to wash, actually. ] So I can't do that, to get out of my head. Instead I try to do things to occupy my mind, skills like rope, but -- the memory doesn't apply to just skills. I've found that one of the ways I can most effectively get out of my own head -- is losing myself in someone else.
[ he won't describe it in detail, but with that hawkish focus in his eyes now as he meets d'artagnan's gaze -- maybe d'artagnan might be able to imagine. wash memorizes a person the same way he absorbs any other information. everything about them, from the rhythm of their breaths, how they shift their weight when they walk, how they respond when his touch brushes against a certain spot at the small of their back, how that response differs if he uses just a bit more pressure, or a bit less. wash is often laser-focused on pleasuring his partner and meeting their needs to the utter detriment of his own, and that's the way he likes it. ]
But that's all in my head. Conveying that to anyone I'm with -- there's only so much I can do. [ he gestures with a tip of his head towards the case, and there's a bit more hesitation to his words, here, trying to convey something that's always mostly been in his thoughts, that he's rarely ever needed to give actual words to. ] But with this. There's a lot that goes into tying someone intricately and safely, that counts on how well I know the rope, on how well I know them -- their body, their wants, their needs. It's almost . . . Almost a way for my touch, for my attention, to linger even when I move my hands away. To make it physical, make them -- feel it.
[ to surround them in it, to hold them in it, for them to trust it to hold them, give themselves to his attention . . . his brow knits slightly, like he's not sure if he's putting it to words in the right way. but that's as close as he's going to get, for now. ]
[Phrased that way, D'Artagnan does see his caution has merit, and that what he feels gets things to a point faster is not always best. Objectively, he knew that, it's why he'd come, why he'd asked, but at the point he starts to become frustrated with himself, he's reluctant to hold to that approach as necessary. He nods, taking a deep breath through his nose. He appreciates Wash's insight, as they agree or think similarly on some pieces of this, but oppositionally in others, and D'Artagnan feels it more and more prudent to consider both things, what he might see of himself and his thoughts in this man's circumstances, and what jars him as unwanted for himself.
Losing myself in someone else. D'Artagnan gives that the due consideration it deserves, instead of defining it quickly and objectively. A distraction merely, he could see at first, but in understanding someone in the Wash might be able to, the way the man stares at him now, penetratingly, alert in a way he hasn't ever seen, it's different. The way he speaks about it, what the intimacy of binding another this way gives him, allows him to have, D'Artagnan feel less secure in making assumptions on, but he tries. It's important that he does, that he might comprehend as much as he can. The word that comes to him is perhaps disrespectful, but he speaks it all the same.]
Possession. You wish to leave your mark on them in a way no one else can, because you know everything about them, and you can't forget it. You might posses them, as they possess your thoughts, all encompassing, where there's nothing else that exists for that moment. Place a memory of yourself on their bodies.
[His tone is questioning as it had been earlier, but he speaks more fluidly, more comfortably with it, with his suppositions whether they be correct or not.]
You want focus outside of yourself. I want an anchor.
[When D'Artagnan had reached the point of not thinking, it wasn't to escape himself, but bring more clarity to his own mind, still very self-referential, and contained in a way he feels oftentimes that he can't be, can't manage on his own.]
Possession, huh. [ not how wash tends to think of it, but he doesn't take offense to it -- he knows how he is, knows how he gets, especially in the heat of a moment. ] Yeah. I'd say that's a part of it, sometimes at least. I usually think of it less as me trying to leave a mark on them, and more -- trying to let them feel how much I'm giving them. Like a way I can lavish attention on someone, make them feel how much they are wanted.
Sometimes I think about what it really is I miss about the war. It's a lot of things. [ there is a part of him, real and present, that does miss the terrible parts of it. but. ] But it's also about -- being focused. Absolute. Everything about my mind and being being honed to a single purpose.
Often, when I get really into things -- my partner, who I'm with. That's the purpose I have. Learning everything about them so I can use it to push them as far as I can, or as far as they want, to give them what they want and need, to make them feel good along the way. Nothing else matters, in those moments. And I find that purpose anchoring, in a way.
[ wash shrugs. he's more than reached the point where it's just kind of abstract, where giving words to it doesn't even really make sense anymore, because it's not like these thoughts are ever flashing through him consciously in the heat of the moment. so he dials back a bit; ]
It isn't always so high-minded. I still just enjoy the feeling of control. Depending on who I'm with, for rope in specific, I can spend hours really lavishing attention on every knot and tie, or I can move through it fairly quickly.
[He makes a slight 'hm' noise at that explanation, some of it registering in a way he'd not have considered the act. Lavishing attention, which D'Artagnan very much likes to do, never occurred to him as what might be brought through ropes and taking control. That aspect would change it for him, take away from the affection and care in his mind, and he realises then he can't see it as something... positive. Wash's talk of purpose isn't so convoluted that he doesn't understand the basic thread of it, nor why the man might find purpose in such work, but none of it draws D'Artagnan in particular. He lets the silence drift for a moment as he gathers his thoughts, looking over at the bundles of rope again, and when he meets Wash's eyes, his own hold an apologetic gaze.]
You're right, I need to talk to her. I was... looking for a purpose in this myself, something to make me want to do it. But I don't, I still don't.
[ wash is quite comfortable in the silence, happy to let the man think, and when d'artagnan does answer, he waves his hand slightly by way of dismissing that apologetic tone, the look in his eyes. he doesn't mind this at all, and he'd expected that his own reasons wouldn't resonate with d'artagnan. everyone's different, and wash's own peculiarities have evolved over time out of his own specific circumstances. ]
I feel like if you were going to find any purpose in it? You'd find it from talking to her. [ a pause, a tip his head. ] But maybe you won't. It's always possible to play with the parameters of things, more restrictive, less restrictive, something in between -- but it also just might not be for you.
[It should've been an obvious conclusion, but D'Artagnan doesn't often find those, taking a more convoluted path that to him had seemed the easiest until he'd found himself in the midst of it and without direction. It's not uncommon. Something about this, his admission, feels like defeat all the same. He pushes himself up off the couch, and doesn't regard the ropes again, ignoring the table.]
I've not found this unhelpful, you understand. I do appreciate your insight and allowing me to see what it's brought you personally. There are complications and individual aspects I'd not fully considered or comprehended thoroughly. I'm uncertain how this will... end, for me, but trust I will endeavour to speak with you again should I proceed and wish for... more practical instruction.
[ wash doesn't move to stop d'artagnan from standing, but in his mind's eye -- he sees him sitting on the couch, turning his face away, fingers twisting into each other. the sound of his voice, deathly quiet, barely anything above a whisper, a quiet thank you. wash still doesn't know him, doesn't want to presume anything, but it just would seem remiss for him to not at least touch at it, hopefully without coming across like someone giving unwanted advice for something he probably doesn't know enough about to even begin to understand. ]
You know -- the memory thing is a bit of a living hell. But most people who hear about it won't realize that, or even consider how much it might change how I see things. To most, it's just kind of a party trick that they'll forget about.
So I appreciated that.
[ that's what wash arrives at: instead of bringing up whatever vulnerability that d'artagnan had shown in that moment, just a touch of his own. d'artagnan had cut surprisingly close to a lot of what wash grapples with, and from very little, had demonstrated an understanding of what that might do to him. and wash may not have been driven to tears for it, but he noticed and appreciated it. whatever solace wash had been able to offer for him in that moment to bring such a strong response, wash had gotten something out of talking to him, too.
but that's enough. they don't need to linger. he just wants to make sure there's an open door: ]
If you'd like to talk more sometime, you how to find me.
[ not just about rope or motorcycles or government buildings, but hey. those things too. ]
[He's not expecting anything further, and hearkening back to that has him looking at Wash directly again, not capable of the same penetrating gaze, nor would he issue it, but clearly paying attention to the words and giving them weight. His eyebrows knit together slightly, as to D'Artagnan, that was the most obvious conclusion, a hell and far from a party trick. He nods in acknowledgement of that statement. The offer to speak to him is taken an intended, about other things, things that he'd not meant to touch on perhaps, or hadn't meant to have connections with. In that, he can't see this meeting wasn't unhelpful even apart from the crux of it, in a way Wash might have gathered, D'Artagnan suspects, because he'd never been a man who could hide his feelings easily, and never had he felt something without some level of intensity to it.]
Of course. Know I offer that to you as well.
[The man doesn't seem he needs it, but if most people dismiss the harsher realities of his ability or what he's revealed of his past, it can't hurt to state he'd be similarly willing to listen.]
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And you've talked to her about it, yeah? Because if your main concern is what it might do for her, what she gets out of it, what you can help her achieve in it -- she's probably a better person to talk to than me. [ he tips his head slightly. ] But you're here.
So, if you don't mind me asking -- what did she tell you? And what about her answers wasn't enough?
[ he thinks he understands at least some of what d'artagnan's after, maybe not in its entirety. but given that the man is clearly trying earnestly, wash is resolved to do his best to listen and work with him, and hopefully they'll reach what he needs. ]
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Well... No.
[Looking over at Wash then, it's with somewhat of a sheepish expression he tries to manage better in his embarrassment of having this obviously better idea thrust upon him too late.]
It was two months ago when I'd declined her request and we'd not... At the time, it was not a question, not something I'd wished to pursue, and now that it is, that I've thought about it and considered things, I'd... I didn't bring it up with her. I just...
[Texted Wash.]
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Well. [ another raise of an eyebrow, not going to hide his clear amusement, but -- his expression quietens again after a moment. he won't give you too much shit. ] While I do still think I can help, I'm going to suggest that you talk to her about it.
[ and while he won't say so out loud, wash is perfectly happy with meddling a little on this front. because he's gonna be nice here and not breathe a word about this to ororo, but if you take too long to bring it up to her. he will absolutely tell her. don't be dumb. but hey, maybe talking or trying some things out here will help him figure out how to talk to her later, and that's fine too. ]
I'm not her, so I can't really tell you about what she specifically might want out of it or what she wants to achieve from it. I can just tell you about me.
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We can start there.
[Even if he finds this unhelpful in the end, Wash's perspective and the personal feelings he may wish to disclose, the experience is not without its merit.]
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but where does he start? wash is painfully self-aware by necessity, and knows what he gets out of this, but it's always a bit difficult just explain in plain words. it's why he's suggested showing d'artagnan and offered to tie him even if just slightly, but it's clear that d'artagnan has little interest in that aside from pushing back against him out of some perceived slight to his ego, and that's not something wash wants to play into. if d'artagnan brings it up himself, then sure, but otherwise. he's quiet for a moment, fingers drumming lightly against his leg, in thought.
he looks back at d'artagnan, his gaze too-focused, as always. ]
Did you know I can't forget?
[ punctuated, only half-intentionally, by the weight of his gaze. he promises its related. ]
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... Forget what?
[He furrows his eyebrows in genuine confusion, not taking the question as an absolute, but as having missing context.]
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That was the end of the sentence. I can't forget. Anything.
Perfect memory. I wasn't born with it -- it's, ah. An unfortunate consequence of my time as a soldier. [ a half-shrug, leaning back slightly on the couch -- but his eyes, fixed on d'artagnan. too sharp, foo coused, as always. ] Everything I see, touch, hear, even for a moment, I have it perfectly memorized for as long as I'll live.
[ he'll let that rest a bit to let d'artagnan consider the implications of it. they're both soldiers, and while wash hasn't talked about his experience, war is war, no matter what world its in. the things wash has done, they aren't far-off memories. they always feel fresh. like some of the worst things he's done only happened minutes ago. ]
It's part of my control problem.
[ not nearly all of it, but. enough to give d'artagnan an idea.
given d'artagnan's questions and confusion, wash is of the belief that discussions about the concept of power dynamics and control aren't needed, because d'artagnan already knows them -- and of fucking course he does, when he's been living in this city for as long as he has. he just struggles to see what he himself might want in it, if anything, to see how he might fit in it. the solution wash is arriving at, partially in response to d'artagnan's earlier honesty, is to instead be extremely specific to his own experience. where it comes from, how he'd gotten there, what he gets out of it, where his uncertainties lie.
but he's here to give d'artagnan that understanding, not to make him play therapist. so while he gives him time to wrap his head around the idea, he's not going to let it rest for too long before at least making sure they'll stay on that point. ]
It's a lot of why I ended up getting into this, even before I arrived here.
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It gave you something to focus on in your attempt at distraction from your thoughts?... But something more... that you might take control of your mind, deliberately, prove to yourself... you're not part of that collective any longer, not what they made you, but your own person.
[It still sounds like a question, all of it, his assessment lacking confidence and insight, no conviction in what he's trying to understand.]
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but that's lost on most people. the constant vigilance, the need for him to keep memories at bay, to make sure he holds onto who he is and where he is and what he's doing at any at all times. though people tend to understand at least some of difficulties of it if they think about it for a while, to most that wash has shared that with, its just been something interesting he can do. so while he can't quite see how upset d'artagnan is, while wash can't see into his head -- the fact that his immediate reaction was to turn away, his hands wringing. that's different.
he appreciates it, though. but he won't call him out on it, or linger on it -- but there is a definite pause of slight surprise in answer to d'artagnan's assessment. because it's closer than most people get, even after having known him for longer, painfully close for someone who doesn't know any of what wash's been through. not part of that collective any longer -- not what they made you -- memories of white walls and steel pressed against his spine flicker briefly through his thoughts, right in front of his eyes, clear as day, but. he's very well-practiced, by now, after all these years, in not letting himself slip into it.
he nods. ]
Yeah. Definitely. [ his voice is light, calm. whatever d'artagnan's thinking of, he can see the way his hands are working, and -- he's okay. really. all things considered. he'll try to bring him back. ] Also just means I like learning new things. I'm not a genius, memory isn't the same as processing the information I get, but I still learn very quickly compared to most, depending on the skill.
Before the bonus memory kicked in, I'd restrained partners before, but just simple things. I knew my way around rope, but just using cuffs or something was fine. I still liked being in control. But after. [ he didn't just like it anymore. he needed it. ] After, I started getting into rope just as something to learn. Things to fill my head, and something to do with my hands.
[ something that wasn't just -- killing. ]
And to be honest with you, that was where I thought it'd stop. I didn't really think I'd genuinely do it with people, because I couldn't trust myself to. But I started doing it anyway.
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Recently, I took up whittling, woodcarving, for those reasons. I'd stopped... patrolling in the Down, stopped fighting, and I didn't know what to do with myself when I needed to fill that... space with something, that wasn't violent or terrible. I have control in that. I want control in this. I don't want to... be afraid of myself. It's irrational, isn't it?
[He makes a disdainful noise then, thinking he'd been rather incoherent, or perhaps naïve in his comparisons, simplifying it.]
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I'm actually pretty good with a needle and thread, now. Or knitting.
I don't know you that well, or what's in your head, so I can't tell you how rational it might be. [ fear is sometimes a purely instinctive response, but other times, a logical one. wash doesn't like when people tell him that he has no reason to distrust himself, because he does. he needs to be careful. he needs to stay vigilant. maybe d'artagnan's the same, and maybe he isn't. but regardless; ] You aren't just in control or not -- it's not just something you are. It's something you do.
[ and for some people, the thing it is they're doing might be simple enough to fade in the background. but for wash, for whom mere existence and exerting himself as a person against the constant pressures in his head is a continual and conscious effort -- the work is part of the point. being afraid of what might happen if he doesn't is part of the point. he chooses to continue to exert control, chooses to continue to exert who he is. to separate it from who he doesn't want to be. ]
I choose what I'm doing. I choose what I want to be. Something not violent or terrible, as you said. And I didn't want to tie anyone or push anyone too far, because I always saw it as violent, aggressive. [ he shifts slightly, makes a small sigh as he leans forward. ] And sometimes it was. I wasn't always so careful.
But people began to ask it of me. And I started to see it differently.
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Thank you.
[His voice is low and even, nearly whispered, and the gratitude palpable, if arguably misplaced in his own interpretations of rather benign statements. He continues as if that didn't happen, that slip, no regard to the fact he's still crying, focused then on Wash's assessment of bondage that had also been his.]
I see it that way too — aggressive, violent, domination that is... not to be lauded. Asking it of me, I... I want to see it differently as you have. I don't want my perceptions to hold me back when I might be able to give... some form of solace to someone else, even if I don't understand it.
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d'artagnan doesn't seem to entirely notice the tears falling. wash does, of course. but he doesn't seem in distress, just moved in some way, so wash will make no move to comfort him or address it. he doesn't know d'artagnan well enough to know what struggle he might have in his own mind, with his own demons, with whatever he calls irrational. but clearly d'artagnan sees something in wash's description of his own troubles. he'd have been happy to linger and talk about it more, but d'artagnan moves on, and so wash will, too. before they leave here today, wash thinks that he'll touch on it again.
but for now. he just nods, quiet and acknowledging, at his whispered thank you. whatever it is he managed to offer d'artagnan, he doesn't yet fully understand, but doesn't need to. that he offered him something at all is enough. ]
Sometimes people want that. The violence, the aggression. [ that's what felix had been, and some of wash's other partners in the past. complicated, messy. not a good example to set, but wash is committing to being honest about his own experience, hopefully to d'artagnan's benefit. ] So sometimes I'd take them up on it, feed into it. But I wouldn't recommend that.
[ but he did enjoy it. for better and for worse. ]
But I've had people approach me for it for different reasons -- and you've probably heard them before, yeah? [ or maybe he hasn't! he didn't talk to ororo like he thought he might have. and he doesn't want to assume, but ororo is a woman of such power, grace, and someone who in a way wash is quite sympathetic to seems to never stop working. how many businesses does she run here, and what he knows of her role back home, and the way she always looks after everyone around her -- and for someone like her, well. if he were to imagine. ] For some people their regular lives are exhausting enough that there's an appeal to letting go and letting someone else take the reins for a while. Some people are always thinking, always worrying, and just want to turn their thoughts off for a while. [ natasha's more like that. ] Some people like acting out just to get pushed down. Others just think its fun or sexy and there doesn't need to be much actual logic behind it.
You've said you've discussed things of this nature before, but with you not being the one in control. If you're willing to talk about it, what do you think you got out of those times?
[ wash is circling a little, mostly just trying to learn more about d'artagnan and what he already thinks and believes, in effort to resonate with him better with his own reasons. ]
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Well... as you've made the suggestion there, it was... to stop thinking, at one point. I was overwhelmed so much I couldn't form any coherent thoughts and it was... calming, despite the intensity.
[His teeth press into his lower lip, and he does decide to continue with more specifics.]
It was those collars Submissives were given a few months past, that... triggered orgasms by way of a... remote? It was... I'd done that with her, my girlfriend, she'd been given the remote coincidentally. I'd been uncontracted. I was reluctant at first, to try it, but it was... I liked it, and I liked not having... this tide of relentless emotions. It was peaceful, inside that constant stimulation somewhere. At other times, what I've been... what I enjoyed, is having guidance, instruction, in what to do. I suppose that's also... to stop thinking. I might do too much of that, I fear, in directing and having all the control, that I... won't know what to do when it grips me so completely, the nervous thoughts and considerations and second guessing, and panic. It's not safe if I can't trust myself not to.
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that its the collars, though. thats interesting. that'd been part of the trigger with natasha, too, what got them to finally start -- talking. they'd landed on not using the collars, themselves, but clearly it's worked out for d'artagnan with ororo, and, well. he and natasha still need to talk a lot more than they currently do, but file that into the blatant hypocrite file alongside everything else.
wash nods. ]
Again, there's things that you need to get by talking to her, not to me. [ like what, exactly, ororo might be want to get out of this. ] But what she was able to do for you -- Would you want to be able to do for her? Could you see yourself doing it?
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[That comes out almost defensive, a little higher pitched and petulant, and D'Artagnan squirms slightly, once again harbouring thoughts that he should abandon this and talk to Ororo instead, return when he might actually benefit from instruction in the practicality of artistic knots. When he answers the questions, the first is with absolute conviction, but the second with tentative hedging.]
I want to... I think I could see myself there, but... I don't. Currently.
[With that admission, he feels as if he's made little progress in this conversation, not as swiftly as he'd like.]
I should've just said yes and tried it then.
[Thrown himself into it and let it all fall as it may.]
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You were worried, and not without reason. I can't speak for her, but I'd much rather you be a little overly cautious instead of being gung-ho about seizing control over someone else.
[ d'artagan clearly tends towards reckless impulsivity rather than caution, but hey. when it counts, when he worries for someone he really cares about -- clearly he's capable of putting on the brakes. and wash believes that's a good thing.
now that d'artagnan's been able to reach that conclusion out loud, though, and especially with that defensiveness -- wash will turn it around back on himself, for a while. fair's fair. ]
For me, giving up control wouldn't be a relief. [ everything about even the idea of it seems absolutely fucking horrifying to wash, actually. ] So I can't do that, to get out of my head. Instead I try to do things to occupy my mind, skills like rope, but -- the memory doesn't apply to just skills. I've found that one of the ways I can most effectively get out of my own head -- is losing myself in someone else.
[ he won't describe it in detail, but with that hawkish focus in his eyes now as he meets d'artagnan's gaze -- maybe d'artagnan might be able to imagine. wash memorizes a person the same way he absorbs any other information. everything about them, from the rhythm of their breaths, how they shift their weight when they walk, how they respond when his touch brushes against a certain spot at the small of their back, how that response differs if he uses just a bit more pressure, or a bit less. wash is often laser-focused on pleasuring his partner and meeting their needs to the utter detriment of his own, and that's the way he likes it. ]
But that's all in my head. Conveying that to anyone I'm with -- there's only so much I can do. [ he gestures with a tip of his head towards the case, and there's a bit more hesitation to his words, here, trying to convey something that's always mostly been in his thoughts, that he's rarely ever needed to give actual words to. ] But with this. There's a lot that goes into tying someone intricately and safely, that counts on how well I know the rope, on how well I know them -- their body, their wants, their needs. It's almost . . . Almost a way for my touch, for my attention, to linger even when I move my hands away. To make it physical, make them -- feel it.
[ to surround them in it, to hold them in it, for them to trust it to hold them, give themselves to his attention . . . his brow knits slightly, like he's not sure if he's putting it to words in the right way. but that's as close as he's going to get, for now. ]
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Losing myself in someone else. D'Artagnan gives that the due consideration it deserves, instead of defining it quickly and objectively. A distraction merely, he could see at first, but in understanding someone in the Wash might be able to, the way the man stares at him now, penetratingly, alert in a way he hasn't ever seen, it's different. The way he speaks about it, what the intimacy of binding another this way gives him, allows him to have, D'Artagnan feel less secure in making assumptions on, but he tries. It's important that he does, that he might comprehend as much as he can. The word that comes to him is perhaps disrespectful, but he speaks it all the same.]
Possession. You wish to leave your mark on them in a way no one else can, because you know everything about them, and you can't forget it. You might posses them, as they possess your thoughts, all encompassing, where there's nothing else that exists for that moment. Place a memory of yourself on their bodies.
[His tone is questioning as it had been earlier, but he speaks more fluidly, more comfortably with it, with his suppositions whether they be correct or not.]
You want focus outside of yourself. I want an anchor.
[When D'Artagnan had reached the point of not thinking, it wasn't to escape himself, but bring more clarity to his own mind, still very self-referential, and contained in a way he feels oftentimes that he can't be, can't manage on his own.]
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Sometimes I think about what it really is I miss about the war. It's a lot of things. [ there is a part of him, real and present, that does miss the terrible parts of it. but. ] But it's also about -- being focused. Absolute. Everything about my mind and being being honed to a single purpose.
Often, when I get really into things -- my partner, who I'm with. That's the purpose I have. Learning everything about them so I can use it to push them as far as I can, or as far as they want, to give them what they want and need, to make them feel good along the way. Nothing else matters, in those moments. And I find that purpose anchoring, in a way.
[ wash shrugs. he's more than reached the point where it's just kind of abstract, where giving words to it doesn't even really make sense anymore, because it's not like these thoughts are ever flashing through him consciously in the heat of the moment. so he dials back a bit; ]
It isn't always so high-minded. I still just enjoy the feeling of control. Depending on who I'm with, for rope in specific, I can spend hours really lavishing attention on every knot and tie, or I can move through it fairly quickly.
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You're right, I need to talk to her. I was... looking for a purpose in this myself, something to make me want to do it. But I don't, I still don't.
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I feel like if you were going to find any purpose in it? You'd find it from talking to her. [ a pause, a tip his head. ] But maybe you won't. It's always possible to play with the parameters of things, more restrictive, less restrictive, something in between -- but it also just might not be for you.
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[It should've been an obvious conclusion, but D'Artagnan doesn't often find those, taking a more convoluted path that to him had seemed the easiest until he'd found himself in the midst of it and without direction. It's not uncommon. Something about this, his admission, feels like defeat all the same. He pushes himself up off the couch, and doesn't regard the ropes again, ignoring the table.]
I've not found this unhelpful, you understand. I do appreciate your insight and allowing me to see what it's brought you personally. There are complications and individual aspects I'd not fully considered or comprehended thoroughly. I'm uncertain how this will... end, for me, but trust I will endeavour to speak with you again should I proceed and wish for... more practical instruction.
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[ wash doesn't move to stop d'artagnan from standing, but in his mind's eye -- he sees him sitting on the couch, turning his face away, fingers twisting into each other. the sound of his voice, deathly quiet, barely anything above a whisper, a quiet thank you. wash still doesn't know him, doesn't want to presume anything, but it just would seem remiss for him to not at least touch at it, hopefully without coming across like someone giving unwanted advice for something he probably doesn't know enough about to even begin to understand. ]
You know -- the memory thing is a bit of a living hell. But most people who hear about it won't realize that, or even consider how much it might change how I see things. To most, it's just kind of a party trick that they'll forget about.
So I appreciated that.
[ that's what wash arrives at: instead of bringing up whatever vulnerability that d'artagnan had shown in that moment, just a touch of his own. d'artagnan had cut surprisingly close to a lot of what wash grapples with, and from very little, had demonstrated an understanding of what that might do to him. and wash may not have been driven to tears for it, but he noticed and appreciated it. whatever solace wash had been able to offer for him in that moment to bring such a strong response, wash had gotten something out of talking to him, too.
but that's enough. they don't need to linger. he just wants to make sure there's an open door: ]
If you'd like to talk more sometime, you how to find me.
[ not just about rope or motorcycles or government buildings, but hey. those things too. ]
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Of course. Know I offer that to you as well.
[The man doesn't seem he needs it, but if most people dismiss the harsher realities of his ability or what he's revealed of his past, it can't hurt to state he'd be similarly willing to listen.]