[Schuldig had a bad feeling about Crawford's warning to Schwarz, especially in light of the last few days. So, in a way, it's almost expected when he sees the still-familiar form of a much younger Brad Crawford walking the streets of Mayfield; it fits with the warning and with the events of the past couple days, after all.
The fact that it still gives him a bad shock, therefore, has nothing to do with surprise, and everything to do with being forcibly thrown back - for the second time in two days - into memories he'd disowned years ago.
At least he can reasonably expect Brad not to be panicking. He's never really known the man to panic about anything, at any age.] ...hey. [His approach and even his words are guarded; he has no idea how Brad will react to him as he is now, or how much the boy's foreseen.]
[Brad doesn't so much falter as come to a slightly abrupt halt. Keane is someone interesting enough to be worth tracking into the future, after all, particularly where it concerns the partnership they're going to enter. The more mature face isn't just familiar--it's known.
Which... is a little complicated, really. Because things feel very... real here, and the future isn't quite 'real' in the way that the pavement under his feet is real. And the houses might as well be a memory, really, which means that however much this is a vision and a construct and a personal invasion of mental space--
Things get quiet again, the faintest bit of a perplexed look on his face.] I always thought you'd be taller.
[Whatever Schuldig had been expecting Brad to say - if anything - it clearly wasn't that. It surprises a low laugh out of him, despite the circumstances.] Like you'd let me have the upper hand in anything.
This future is real enough, for the moment. [He studies Brad closely. There's something nostalgic - and perhaps a little alarming - at seeing the boy openly perplexed, however slightly; over the years Crawford had begun to play his cards so close to his chest that Schuldig had very nearly forgotten the man wasn't every bit as unflappable as he acted. That reminder leaves his world just a bit less stable.] How much of this were you already expecting...?
[Brad almost smiles; and already it's the slightly cold, distancing smile that graces the lips of so many megalomaniac cases.] I suppose not, Keane.
[The slightest flicker of discomfort follows, almost instantly whitewashed away by the usual calm bravado that comes like a subdued second nature to most precognitives at this age.] It isn't quite where I thought I'd find you. But then, it's not really... real, is it. Not like you and I are.
[One would never think Schuldig was good at repressing emotions, due to the fact that he lets a select few run wild. Sadistic delight and white-hot rage both have their way with him whenever one or the other is appropriate. But in many ways, this is an even more clever blind than Crawford's stoicism - using the incredibly obvious to mask the more subtle, and more private.
But the use of his old name, from his old life, hits him like a truck. And even if either of his two workhorse emotions would have been appropriate to mask his reaction with, he couldn't possibly hide the shock of alarm and residual pain that's elicited. That is something that broke a long time ago and never healed well.] ...I don't use that name anymore. It's Schuldig.
As for this place...it's a temporary setback. And real enough for most purposes, no matter what the truth of it is.
[Brad, to be frank, expects displays of actual emotion from this particular individual. This particular reaction catches him a bit by surprise--an unpleasant experience at any age. Clearly there's something he hasn't seen between now and this permutation of his future partner. 'Schuldig'... it can hardly be pleasant.
The adjustment is slight, although likely visible to a person who knows where to look. Brad hits a point of softening, head inclining slightly and shoulders opening in what might read as a sympathetic gesture.]Real enough to die, but not real enough to achieve what we're looking for?
[By the standards of any normal person, the shift would be slight. By the standards of Brad Crawford, it's so obvious that Schuldig nearly jumps. There's so much that's been gone for so long that he'd nearly forgotten was ever there at all. He hadn't remembered what this looks like, hadn't realized being reminded would sting like it does.] ...you could say that. You'll probably get sent back soon enough, but I wouldn't risk anything much while you're here, just in case.
We're both here. [It's mostly just a statement of fact. Brad has seen quite a few possibilities for the futures beyond (and, frankly, not beyond) their time at the 'Academy.' The fact that they're both here, perhaps ten years later, in whatever place this is, means that one of the more acceptable futures is in the process of unfolding.
And how can a person risk much with that one the line?]
[Schuldig almost smiles. It's an expression from his old life, and one that his old (young?) friend almost pulls out of him unbidden. He catches it in time, but the quirk of his lips is still noticeable.] And that's enough, hm?
You've never really been one to take risks anyway, so I guess there's nothing to worry about. [It would be very nice if he could convince himself of this. It sounds true enough. But he's not the one who can see the future, and he's literally looking the possibility of Crawford being erased from their past in the face. He never saw all the potential futures for the two of them, but he didn't need to in order to recognize that there probably weren't many at all in which one of them could come out intact without the other.]
[Brad hasn't actually smiled in about seven years, but the curve of his lips in response to both comments is probably the closest to the real thing Schuldig will have seen in years.]
If you did, I would tell you, I'm sure. [And that's said with absolute certainty.]
[It certainly is, and Schuldig isn't at all sure how to handle it. The instinct to smile back is suppressed by the firm knowledge that if he does, something will fracture quite badly. Something or everything. Instead, he carefully changes the subject.] Can you see anything right now?
[Brad takes a moment. Again, it's subtle--he's been a horribly quick study, but a person who's seen the science of his usual ability to rifle through the immediate future will notice the split second of completely leaving the current timeline.
[It's just as well Crawford is a precognitive and not a telepath, because Schuldig would flat out murder anyone who could read his mind right now. Brad is the one at risk here, if there's any risk at all, so why is it making Schuldig feel vulnerable?]
...anything? I don't know how much of the future you can see while you're technically in it.
[Coming out of it is easier than going in was. Brad simply blinks and offers a slight shrug of his shoulders.] Nothing I haven't seen before. This clearly isn't much of an interruption.
[Schuldig relaxes a bit. If Brad can see ahead here - and, more importantly, doesn't see anything unpleasant in the near future for either of them - then maybe he's got nothing to worry about. Or, at least, one less thing to worry about.] It's enough of one to be annoying, anyway.
So what do you think of the future so far...Brad? [He caught himself before saying 'Crawford', but the pause is slightly noticeable.]
[The tactful response to the slight hesitation is not to take note of it. So Brad simply shakes his head, a precise military motion devoid of actual human emotion. Glancing away from Schuldig (it's a little awkward to think the other's name that way), however, is much more natural. His eyes flick up and down the street, one hand moving to adjust his glasses, as the curve of his neck briefly exposes itself in the telepath's direction.]
I'd prefer to have seen something a little more... substantial. It feels rather like being cheated to have come all this way for a suburban street.
The fact that it still gives him a bad shock, therefore, has nothing to do with surprise, and everything to do with being forcibly thrown back - for the second time in two days - into memories he'd disowned years ago.
At least he can reasonably expect Brad not to be panicking. He's never really known the man to panic about anything, at any age.] ...hey. [His approach and even his words are guarded; he has no idea how Brad will react to him as he is now, or how much the boy's foreseen.]
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Which... is a little complicated, really. Because things feel very... real here, and the future isn't quite 'real' in the way that the pavement under his feet is real. And the houses might as well be a memory, really, which means that however much this is a vision and a construct and a personal invasion of mental space--
Things get quiet again, the faintest bit of a perplexed look on his face.] I always thought you'd be taller.
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This future is real enough, for the moment. [He studies Brad closely. There's something nostalgic - and perhaps a little alarming - at seeing the boy openly perplexed, however slightly; over the years Crawford had begun to play his cards so close to his chest that Schuldig had very nearly forgotten the man wasn't every bit as unflappable as he acted. That reminder leaves his world just a bit less stable.] How much of this were you already expecting...?
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[The slightest flicker of discomfort follows, almost instantly whitewashed away by the usual calm bravado that comes like a subdued second nature to most precognitives at this age.] It isn't quite where I thought I'd find you. But then, it's not really... real, is it. Not like you and I are.
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But the use of his old name, from his old life, hits him like a truck. And even if either of his two workhorse emotions would have been appropriate to mask his reaction with, he couldn't possibly hide the shock of alarm and residual pain that's elicited. That is something that broke a long time ago and never healed well.] ...I don't use that name anymore. It's Schuldig.
As for this place...it's a temporary setback. And real enough for most purposes, no matter what the truth of it is.
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The adjustment is slight, although likely visible to a person who knows where to look. Brad hits a point of softening, head inclining slightly and shoulders opening in what might read as a sympathetic gesture.]Real enough to die, but not real enough to achieve what we're looking for?
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And how can a person risk much with that one the line?]
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You've never really been one to take risks anyway, so I guess there's nothing to worry about. [It would be very nice if he could convince himself of this. It sounds true enough. But he's not the one who can see the future, and he's literally looking the possibility of Crawford being erased from their past in the face. He never saw all the potential futures for the two of them, but he didn't need to in order to recognize that there probably weren't many at all in which one of them could come out intact without the other.]
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If you did, I would tell you, I'm sure. [And that's said with absolute certainty.]
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It's almost fragile, really.]
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...anything? I don't know how much of the future you can see while you're technically in it.
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So what do you think of the future so far...Brad? [He caught himself before saying 'Crawford', but the pause is slightly noticeable.]
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I'd prefer to have seen something a little more... substantial. It feels rather like being cheated to have come all this way for a suburban street.
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