Internship (page 2)
This is a role play, not written by me in any way, shape or form. A friend of mine has requested that it be documented and this RP does not belong to me at all. I will leave it here until such time as the story is transferred elsewhere, then it will be deleted. DO NOT COPY ANY OF THIS FOR YOUR OWN.
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**
David took the time to collate his thoughts; the responsibilities and consequences it entailed, schedule and time management, and then there was certain demands he would like to be taken into consideration. He wasn’t picky or anything, but if the term “meticulous” would be considered picky, then maybe he was. He had always set certain standards to keep himself sane from everything; from work, his social life, the characters that haunt and would soon emerge from him, and all the in betweens. Despite being a drunken stupor and a near - dead addict, he knew how to take control of himself and so far, it had kept him alive.
“No dirt.” David finally muttered, eyes taking the surrounding with interest and a very, very, subtle hint of fear and doubt. “I sing, I hope that doesn’t change.” Julian carried himself a smart man; he dressed intellectual, his eyes were bold and striking, and from the very aura he emitted, the man had been around long. David knew Julian understood.
**
Julian is fond of a select taste in music, but his albums are largely downloaded online without covers and he listens to the songs in his playlist as background music while he works, to keep him calm and focused, or to give him inspiration if the lyrics speak to him in a certain way, or if the music is particularly dark.
“That won’t be an issue,” he said quietly, “you are quite free to come and go as you please. But the card is mine, so you’ll have to find me to get in or out.” Julian stood back, looking him over intently and folding his arms to tap his chin in thought.
He enjoyed that David was obsessed with keeping the dirt away, but he had a rule to enforce just now. “You leave the property to smoke, understand?” he points out, “remember that and we’ll get along famously, David.”
That voice.
“Not.. Bowie? Is it?” Julian cocked his head, eyes narrowed. Smile suddenly cracking lines in the corners of his eyes, how funny that 90% of Julian’s playlist was David Bowie and now he had the very man himself, standing right there in front of him.
He rubbed his chin and nibbled his thumb, ohh how he would like to see what makes him tick..
**
The Duke was beginning to find how uncanny certain similarities rise with each passing minute. Standards; David wasn’t keen on keeping strict rules but he had a few that are strongly implemented. The issue with dirt has gone on such a level that he had to drag a visitor out of the premise upon his incessant need to mock and test David’s patience; dirt, ash, dust, anything that would soil the exceptionally clean unit. Lenient at times but one must be particularly close and special to the Duke to be granted consideration and pardon.
“Jones, but Bowie mostly, yeah.” He confirmed, checking his wrist watch. “Do you have a specific time when you’re in and out, love?” And that too, the Duke was quite particular with time in terms of mutual agreements. Unless they were simple parties and gatherings, the Duke is quite flexible.“And do I have to sleep here?” David asked, quite concerned on the arrangements set for him; bed to bath.
**
Julian stared intently at David, the man was certainly bold and making himself right at home. He liked that, as David had barely even flinched at Julian having done exactly the same thing in his apartment, not even five seconds in the door. He had guts, Julian’s gaze dropped to the belt around David’s thin hips, thinking he’d enjoy a peek inside that flat stomach and see how it might differ from anyone else’s.
Eyes snapped up to the question of times, Julian didn’t have a strict routine but he did like to be left alone when he was working, except for this one work, of course. “Unless I need something important and I can’t have it delivered,” he responded firmly, “I try to avoid going anywhere too far from here. I may consider giving you the extra card, if you can keep it from getting stolen.”
Julian scratched the stubble on his chin, brow furrowed at the question of having to sleep in the cell. He supposed that being a famous rock star, David was used to sleeping in comfort and spacious areas. “No,” Julian thought better of it, “now why would I put you in there? Come.”
He turned sharply, showing David to the top floor, remodelled completely and unseen by anyone but himself. Julian was a little ashamed of this floor, it looked a lot like a fancy hotel resort but sometimes he just felt like he wanted to get away and why bother going somewhere if he could just have it all right here? “Perhaps this is more to your liking,” Julian commented, showing David to the suite by the window that overlooked the lake behind the prison.
“I’ll be downstairs if you need anything,” he said pointedly, “don’t talk to my guest if you can avoid it.Love.” A deliberately locked gaze and then he turned and walked towards the door to see himself out, but he figured to perhaps return a little later on when he was done checking in on his guest.
**
Sure.” The Duke was good at ensuring safety over friends in need more so belongings he knew was quite important; car keys, credit cards, and his passport for unplanned trips. The decision of leaving David with an access card was completely up to Julian; he wouldn’t push much on the subject, it was his call, after all.
David followed Julian, rather pleased of what lay before them; a lavish suite of sort. Quite pleased that Julian considered his needs; that or some ulterior motive that possibly would be revealed as time progressed. Lucky to have a free schedule over the weekend, David retired for the evening after a cold shower; feeling a bit incomplete without the rest of his nightly ritual of smoking and - or being lulled to slumber by a few heavy lines of white dust.
***
Morning came far too early for the Duke. At forty - minutes past five, David was up in his robes staring behind the heavy drapes. Staring at the horizon and the still body of water that soothed his discomfort.
**
Julian could sometimes be an early riser, especially if he was excited about something but he did need his full 8 hours at least, lest he be tired and snappy the next day. He had mulled it over last night, then left a card upon the window sill in David’s bedroom. Curiously he had looked upon the innocently sleeping form, almost nose to nose and staring in the darkness, then he’d left as silently as he’d arrived.
From there it was straight to the guest in the cell, still out cold, Julian felt confident enough then to finally retire to his own bedroom for the remainder of the night. He woke to the sunlight filtering in through his window, legs sliding out from between the sheets as he wandered over to his wardrobe, grabbed some clothes and walked into his bathroom.
Julian shaved, showered and made himself somewhat more presentable than the post-work self he’d been in last night, paint under nails and perhaps blood stains in his hair. It was just as well it hadn’t been daylight..
Afterwards he went to the kitchen to make breakfast, having to consciously make enough for two this morning. If David didn’t make an appearance, he’d go to fetch him in a minute or two.
The other guest was beginning to stir, time was nearly upon them to begin. But first, Julian wanted to show David a few things, get his hands dirty, see how he reacted to certain.. stimuli..
**
David thought it rude to impose by leaving his unit without being properly summoned. Though it looked lavished enough to pass a ranked hotel, it didn’t come with the feature of phoning in for room service or arrangements set in advance. It was plainly a room with its own lavatory; no kitchenette to make himself coffee or food, not that he was too hungry to complain anyway.
Not one to keep guests waiting, David kept the bathroom door slightly open as he entered. Delighted to see that no stray, unwanted, growth peered from the neck down, gurgled a pocket mouthwash tucked in his inner vest pocket, showered and dressed himself. As he did so, accidentally brushing against the vest pocket, David was now fully awake to recall that he had slipped the access card into his vest pocket and that, memory jags without coffee. What an interesting revelation to discover while waiting.
**
The smell of breakfast wouldn’t have reached the top floor, though it made the guest’s stomach groan and grumble as Julian wandered over to his cell to check in on the man. Julian had once dissected his own left arm, so he was already considered borerline psychopathic but he had his reasons for having done it. He thought he’d stated them clearly enough during the televised operation but perhaps it simply had gone over their collectively dull heads.
It’d certainly created a sensation, blown way out of proportion, as things of such nature often did. Freak one person out and suddenly you’re on everyone’s high alert list. Nevermind, Julian was perfectly capable of handling it. Though it did cause enough of a stir to have received him a great many death threats, amidst the fanmail, hatemail and love letters. So this place was the only building he truly felt safe in, security gates and cameras everywhere, he could see into nearly room and from inside, he could view every inch of the grounds outside.
Julian left the still sleeping guest and headed directly upstairs to locate David, pushing open the door and looking at him with silent observation. “I’ve made breakfast, if you’re interested,” Julian didn’t bother with pleasantries or wondering if he’d slept alright, straight to the point was always best.
**
“Thank you.” Came a modest response, David cupping his vest pocket briefly as to ensure that the access card was still within his clothing. Leaving his very spot, the curtains swooshed heavily, concealing the still view of the outside world. David bit his lip, as he often did, following after Julian that had graciously made morning’s deal, hoping coffee included.
As he walked behind Julian, David was starting to feel less tensed with his surroundings.
**
Turning his back on someone he barely knew was probably not a wise move, but Julian had little fear of the pale creature padding after him into the dining hall. Coffee, of course, was an absolute must.
He sat down and pushed the morning paper Duke’s way, having browsed through it himself already while making the food. Toast, Eggs, Bacon and Coffee. Duke was free to eat as little or as much as he liked, Julian helped himself to his fill and spoke of not a thing during the meal.
His thoughts consumed his very presence, immersed within them deep enough to almost feel alone, save for the gentle rustling of the newspaper to remind him that someone else was indeed here.
Using a napkin to free his lips of anything that might have strayed from his fork, Julian slowly finished his coffee and got to his feet. Silence was the norm around here, Duke was going to appreciate it once they got started, their guest wasn’t always going to be this complacent.
“Come,” Julian invited Duke once he was finished, then he left the dining hall and walked into one of his other rooms. Restraints of all kinds were in here, everything was sterile and the room resembled a medical bay. “We’ll be doing some of our work in here,” Julian struggled to use the term ‘we’ but managed to pull it off smooth enough.
A loud, long scream could now be heard from down the long hallway and Julian barely even blinked. “It’s time we got started,” he looked to Duke’s eyes, then he led the way to the only locked cell.
A man gripped the bars, desperation and fear in his wide eyes, pupils tiny pinpoints as drugs flowed through his system. Julian had seen to that at some point early before breakfast, and last night as well.
“Let me out!” he shook the bars, “I’ll call the cops!”
“Relax Simon,” Julian stood back, recognizing the drugs had given him some extra strength, “you signed a consent form, now step away from the door or I won’t open it.”
The man looked at Duke, eyes crazed with shaking hands and trembling jaws. “You gotta help me, man!” he pleaded.
Julian looked at Duke, waiting to see what his reaction would be, the cell key rested in his fingers in plain sight, would Duke let the man out or enforce the instruction to back away?
**
Coffee was more than enough to sate the Duke’s morning but then again, a meal wouldn’t sound too shabby. Helping himself with enough to keep him from possibly fainting for a long day, as he had predicted, he idly flicked through the pages of the newspaper. The news had always been the same; murder, people missing, the economy, how money runs the world and how the ecosystem is facing a decline. The rest were just snippets of celebrity gossip that though at times seem entertaining, it wasn’t considering he was part of it.
The world knew of his drug addiction and had paved way to set him a record for a rape allegation towards minor. Of course there was no truth in it and if there ever was, consent was shared. It could have been an attempt to blackmail him for money or fame; either which he simply would have generously assisted the young girl with.
Happy to see that no change had greatly impacted the papers, David finished his cup and followed after Julian. The silence wasn’t as oppressive as he had thought but noise wouldn’t be too bad. But perhaps, a bloodshot eyed man, pleading for mercy behind bars was quite an overboard.
The Duke stepped back, gaze shifting from the trembling prisoner to Julian who seemed so calm about the ordeal. Was this what he meant? It would be difficult to tell whether the Duke had gone pale or if it was his natural shade but mismatched eyes quaked lightly, gulping the need to brace himself for anything. David was guilty of his own vices and calling the cops should this man go free would add to his injury and possible ruin his career and life. A little selfish thought indeed, but David knew and had always remained firm with his priorities. This would be no different. There’d be no words fit to acknowledge or answer the man; he knew the feeling of captivity. Though not as intense but as one under management, consent signed is consent signed.
David merely took a step back behind Julian’s shade, allowing the man to do as he please. After all, Simon belonged to him.
**
Simon was sort of here, sort of not but he knew enough to realize that the pale man’s retreat meant his fate was in Julian’s hands. Julian switched his attention to the man in the cell, eyes piercing. “Get back!” Julian instructed once again. Simon stumbled backwards, intimidated by the tone in Julian’s voice and those harsh eyes that bore into his very soul. His body shuddered, watching as Julian stepped forwards and slid the key into the lock.
Pressing himself into the far wall, Simon looked to David once more for any sign that he’d do something to help out. That’s when Julian grabbed him, strength underlying in his unassuming, relaxed appearance. Simon leapt off the ground, pushing back into Julian’s chest and kicking his legs out in the air, Julian held onto him and hauled him out of the cell.
Screaming, thrashing, Simon fought and struggled every inch of the way until Julian got him onto a chair. Straps secured his body down into place, Julian urged David to assist him in this and finally, Simon could barely even arch his back, or shake his head. A chin and forehead strap further ensured he was quite still.
“Now Simon,” Julian spoke to him calmly, “we agreed on this.”
He tried to put a mouth guard into the man’s jaw to stifle his screams but it was clenched in fear. After some failed gentle coaxing, Julian picked up a long, metal rod that was sharpened at one end. Shoving it without warning into Simon’s ribs elicited a holler, the mouthguard was slotted into place and the chin strap was then tightened to prevent Simon from spitting it out.
“I don’t want you swallowing your tongue, or disturbing my partner here,” Julian scolded him softly, stroking the man’s hair as if affectionate towards him, “now, David.. “ Julian’s gaze flicked to the clearly unnerved rockstar, “this man has been given two doses of meth, can you tell me just by looking at him, what is he experiencing? Be very descriptive.”
Julian needed David to paint him a picture with which he could work, then the tests could begin.
**
David watched Simon struggle and felt neither pity nor anything within the spectrum of emotions; the kind of feeling that birthed the Thin White Duke and separated him from the glamour that is Ziggy Stardust. A feeling of nothingness; an empty, void that neither was good nor bad for him. A feeling that had worked well in the Duke’s favor; throwing darts at lovers’ eyes.
Though there was a speck of pain brewing from the back of David’s mind as he obediently stood beside Julian, restraining Simon’s legs as much as he could, it was not of pity. He felt pain for what might have driven the man to sway into the dark side of drug abuse; pain of which he too is yet to conquer properly.
Julian manhandled the man like he was nothing, which he was; he had gone pale, boney - thin, and odd discoloration over the man’s flesh. Stoic although out the process of forcing the man onto the dreaded seat, David merely winced as a loud shriek pierced him deaf; shoving his index into his left ear, briefly shaking the ringing sound off.
Thankful the man was not clean enough for touch, David approached without hesitation, placing his fingers over the man’s chest while the other set of appendages ran along the man’s neck; hoping Julian didn’t mind. Eyes intently tracing the nerves that had gone visible and thick. “This is when the good stuff happens.” The Duke turned to acknowledge Julian by the eyes before turning back to the green tracks of life over Simon’s neck. “It’s sort of uh…” He’d pause, cupping the man’s Jaw and peering into Simon’s eyes. “An awakening of sort. You feel yourself God in the eyes of many. A gratifying sensation of you ask me.” He chuckled shortly, quite focused on Simon, “A little like sex, love; but you won’t have to move or you don’t feel someone’s weight riding you like a bull.”
**
Julian watched and waited, patience in his very being and a relaxed silence about him, as if the living being before them was a mere mannequinn, devoid of human rights or perhaps himself devoid of human morals. A mixture of both? There was a moment of pause here and there, Julian understood the need for this and did not urge David to hurry up and spit it out.
At the explanation, Julian felt quite taken by the descriptive words used by the intelligent creature before him. It wasn’t often a good idea to captivate Julian, he always got it into his head that he needed to look deeper into you to explain how you’d done it to him, and quite literally at that.
He had once met a woman, who had this odd manner of saying thank you by kissing him upon the cheek and hugging him. She meant nothing more by it, just simple gratitude for whatever she believed he’d done for her, but it had moved him in a way. A quick grasp of her wrist and he’d let her go just as swiftly, for fear that he would do something to regret upon the morrow. But what?
Like a tinkerer wanting to know how and why things worked, Julian liked to open things up to peek inside, but corpses could only tell him so much. Medical books and websites even less. True knowledge came from first hand experience, but the knowledge he sought was best obtained in secret and with a lot of careful planning.
Already he had so many ideas buzzing around in his mind, that he began to draw rough sketches in a large notepad that sat on the desk in the corner. Just from that one paragraph alone, Julian had the bulk of his next work figured out. He then looked around at David, so far he hadn’t seemed too phased by what Julian had done. Now for the next part, he needed to ask first. “How much pain can he tolerate at this point?” Julian wondered.
Now this was not for art’s sake, this was Julian’s own curiosity. David could choose to answer or simply shrug, either way, Julian was going to make use of an array of sharp instruments to find out and Simon just about fainted at the sight of them as Julian wheeled them into position by the chair. Julian lifted his gaze, putting on a white butcher’s apron and clear, plastic mask to protect his eyes. He put some gloves on and Simon began to cry out, his tone knowing of what was going to happen and easily saddened at the fact that he could do nothing about it. Like a small child in the shadow of her father, his belt raised and she, cowering the corner, unable to do anything more than sob and wait for the inevitable.
“I rather enjoyed your analogy, David,” Julian spoke from behind a white mask now, it covered his mouth and nose but the corners of his eyes crinkled, revealing he had smiled, “you might want to step back.”
**
Within his frame of mind, David wondered if he would end up locked in a cell tormented as such for the glory of science or whatever Julian would call it. He wondered how far people would go to extract knowledge even if it meant causing the greatest form of torture; psychological manipulation. It wasn’t a mere test of strength and human limitation or was it a study to formulate a research about using meth to promote human awareness, no; it was more of a personal thing, as how he had observed. He wasn’t in a faculty or a laboratory that included safety precautions, men and women in white with scrawny clipboards, and multiple screens that ensured quality protocol. Then again, he could be wrong.
He hadn’t bought Julian’s feedback upon his poor choice of words and analogy; he knew in himself that he could have done better, but making light of things felt necessary, at least for him. Here, before him, was man that had pleaded dearly to be spared and he, a man who had the globe within the palm of his hands, declined. Avarice? Pride? Lusting curiosity?
“Sure. Yeah, absolutely.” He responded, taking his sweet time to part his fingers from Simon in an attempt to show an absent sympathy. He leaned in, almost driven by a stronger force, kissing the man’s forehead, eyes shut for a moment before he withdrew upon Julian’s instruction. A silent prayer uttered in silence.
**
Julian reached over and picked up a long, thin needle. His gaze flicked down to the wide eyed man before him, urgent, muffled screams of protest coming from the forcibly clenched jaws and the body trembled as much as it could under the restraints. Julian had to wonder if David saw himself lying on that chair, for all the drugs the rock star did, it quite likely could have been but for the fact that he was famous. A venture far too risky, even for Julian to undertake.
Unknowns, people without friends nor family, those were the main people he could rely on to sign his dodgy consent forms under the influence of illicit substances or in exchange for something they desperately needed. He found David’s behavior curious, but didn’t dwell upon it as he carefully approached the chair, calm as you like and hovered the needle close to Simon’s eye while picking up a second one into his left hand.
Julian’s fingers weren’t even shaking the slightest bit, he had a surgical precision to his hands, they were skilled enough to do what he needed but never before had he ever done this in front of someone. His eyes remain on Simon, who was breathing fearfully and heavily through his nose at the sight of a needle point directly in front of his eye, so close it could almost just.. A sudden scream pierced the silence of the room, the needle in Julian’s right hand still remained hovering over Simon’s eye, it hadn’t moved.
Blood streamed from Simon’s ear, the other needle in Julian’s left hand now jutting out of it. Unaffected by the scream and the desperately painful, muffled sobs that followed, Julian watched with intent to see how long it took Simon to calm down. Simon tried to fight back, so desperate to get away, he thrashed and there came a sickening snap as his arm broke under the sudden straining of his drug enhanced state.
“Fuck!” Julian hissed angrily, setting down the needle but leaving the other jammed into Simon’s ear. He hurried around to the other side, ignoring the loud wails of the still struggling and now regretful Simon. Julian examined the break, bone jutted from torn flesh and blood gushed out in rivers of crimson. Julian opened a drawer, filled a syringe and injected Simon with a liquid. He moved swiftly to splint the break, firmly bandaging it up to keep it still.
Simon was quiet again, the new shot of meth calming him for the time being. Julian walked back around to the other side and carefully pulled out the needle from Simon’s ear, eliciting a painful howl and causing unconsciousness. He tossed it into the nearby sink, took up his notebook then he gestured for David to follow him into another room.
This room was less sterile and more cluttered, but with paints and acrylics, as well as all manner of things he could use to create his next work of art. Julian looked around at David, removing his white mask and clear goggles. He switched on the laptop and pulled up his playlist, background music filled the room and David would recognize his own voice.
“We’ll get back to him later,” Julian explained, “this is where the magic happens.”
He looked down at his sketches, then turned his eyes back to David.
“Tell me again,” he needed to hear more as he took out his pencil, “how do you mean it’s like God and sex?” The two just did not seem to go together.
“Explain.”
**
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**
David took the time to collate his thoughts; the responsibilities and consequences it entailed, schedule and time management, and then there was certain demands he would like to be taken into consideration. He wasn’t picky or anything, but if the term “meticulous” would be considered picky, then maybe he was. He had always set certain standards to keep himself sane from everything; from work, his social life, the characters that haunt and would soon emerge from him, and all the in betweens. Despite being a drunken stupor and a near - dead addict, he knew how to take control of himself and so far, it had kept him alive.
“No dirt.” David finally muttered, eyes taking the surrounding with interest and a very, very, subtle hint of fear and doubt. “I sing, I hope that doesn’t change.” Julian carried himself a smart man; he dressed intellectual, his eyes were bold and striking, and from the very aura he emitted, the man had been around long. David knew Julian understood.
**
Julian is fond of a select taste in music, but his albums are largely downloaded online without covers and he listens to the songs in his playlist as background music while he works, to keep him calm and focused, or to give him inspiration if the lyrics speak to him in a certain way, or if the music is particularly dark.
“That won’t be an issue,” he said quietly, “you are quite free to come and go as you please. But the card is mine, so you’ll have to find me to get in or out.” Julian stood back, looking him over intently and folding his arms to tap his chin in thought.
He enjoyed that David was obsessed with keeping the dirt away, but he had a rule to enforce just now. “You leave the property to smoke, understand?” he points out, “remember that and we’ll get along famously, David.”
That voice.
“Not.. Bowie? Is it?” Julian cocked his head, eyes narrowed. Smile suddenly cracking lines in the corners of his eyes, how funny that 90% of Julian’s playlist was David Bowie and now he had the very man himself, standing right there in front of him.
He rubbed his chin and nibbled his thumb, ohh how he would like to see what makes him tick..
**
The Duke was beginning to find how uncanny certain similarities rise with each passing minute. Standards; David wasn’t keen on keeping strict rules but he had a few that are strongly implemented. The issue with dirt has gone on such a level that he had to drag a visitor out of the premise upon his incessant need to mock and test David’s patience; dirt, ash, dust, anything that would soil the exceptionally clean unit. Lenient at times but one must be particularly close and special to the Duke to be granted consideration and pardon.
“Jones, but Bowie mostly, yeah.” He confirmed, checking his wrist watch. “Do you have a specific time when you’re in and out, love?” And that too, the Duke was quite particular with time in terms of mutual agreements. Unless they were simple parties and gatherings, the Duke is quite flexible.“And do I have to sleep here?” David asked, quite concerned on the arrangements set for him; bed to bath.
**
Julian stared intently at David, the man was certainly bold and making himself right at home. He liked that, as David had barely even flinched at Julian having done exactly the same thing in his apartment, not even five seconds in the door. He had guts, Julian’s gaze dropped to the belt around David’s thin hips, thinking he’d enjoy a peek inside that flat stomach and see how it might differ from anyone else’s.
Eyes snapped up to the question of times, Julian didn’t have a strict routine but he did like to be left alone when he was working, except for this one work, of course. “Unless I need something important and I can’t have it delivered,” he responded firmly, “I try to avoid going anywhere too far from here. I may consider giving you the extra card, if you can keep it from getting stolen.”
Julian scratched the stubble on his chin, brow furrowed at the question of having to sleep in the cell. He supposed that being a famous rock star, David was used to sleeping in comfort and spacious areas. “No,” Julian thought better of it, “now why would I put you in there? Come.”
He turned sharply, showing David to the top floor, remodelled completely and unseen by anyone but himself. Julian was a little ashamed of this floor, it looked a lot like a fancy hotel resort but sometimes he just felt like he wanted to get away and why bother going somewhere if he could just have it all right here? “Perhaps this is more to your liking,” Julian commented, showing David to the suite by the window that overlooked the lake behind the prison.
“I’ll be downstairs if you need anything,” he said pointedly, “don’t talk to my guest if you can avoid it.Love.” A deliberately locked gaze and then he turned and walked towards the door to see himself out, but he figured to perhaps return a little later on when he was done checking in on his guest.
**
Sure.” The Duke was good at ensuring safety over friends in need more so belongings he knew was quite important; car keys, credit cards, and his passport for unplanned trips. The decision of leaving David with an access card was completely up to Julian; he wouldn’t push much on the subject, it was his call, after all.
David followed Julian, rather pleased of what lay before them; a lavish suite of sort. Quite pleased that Julian considered his needs; that or some ulterior motive that possibly would be revealed as time progressed. Lucky to have a free schedule over the weekend, David retired for the evening after a cold shower; feeling a bit incomplete without the rest of his nightly ritual of smoking and - or being lulled to slumber by a few heavy lines of white dust.
***
Morning came far too early for the Duke. At forty - minutes past five, David was up in his robes staring behind the heavy drapes. Staring at the horizon and the still body of water that soothed his discomfort.
**
Julian could sometimes be an early riser, especially if he was excited about something but he did need his full 8 hours at least, lest he be tired and snappy the next day. He had mulled it over last night, then left a card upon the window sill in David’s bedroom. Curiously he had looked upon the innocently sleeping form, almost nose to nose and staring in the darkness, then he’d left as silently as he’d arrived.
From there it was straight to the guest in the cell, still out cold, Julian felt confident enough then to finally retire to his own bedroom for the remainder of the night. He woke to the sunlight filtering in through his window, legs sliding out from between the sheets as he wandered over to his wardrobe, grabbed some clothes and walked into his bathroom.
Julian shaved, showered and made himself somewhat more presentable than the post-work self he’d been in last night, paint under nails and perhaps blood stains in his hair. It was just as well it hadn’t been daylight..
Afterwards he went to the kitchen to make breakfast, having to consciously make enough for two this morning. If David didn’t make an appearance, he’d go to fetch him in a minute or two.
The other guest was beginning to stir, time was nearly upon them to begin. But first, Julian wanted to show David a few things, get his hands dirty, see how he reacted to certain.. stimuli..
**
David thought it rude to impose by leaving his unit without being properly summoned. Though it looked lavished enough to pass a ranked hotel, it didn’t come with the feature of phoning in for room service or arrangements set in advance. It was plainly a room with its own lavatory; no kitchenette to make himself coffee or food, not that he was too hungry to complain anyway.
Not one to keep guests waiting, David kept the bathroom door slightly open as he entered. Delighted to see that no stray, unwanted, growth peered from the neck down, gurgled a pocket mouthwash tucked in his inner vest pocket, showered and dressed himself. As he did so, accidentally brushing against the vest pocket, David was now fully awake to recall that he had slipped the access card into his vest pocket and that, memory jags without coffee. What an interesting revelation to discover while waiting.
**
The smell of breakfast wouldn’t have reached the top floor, though it made the guest’s stomach groan and grumble as Julian wandered over to his cell to check in on the man. Julian had once dissected his own left arm, so he was already considered borerline psychopathic but he had his reasons for having done it. He thought he’d stated them clearly enough during the televised operation but perhaps it simply had gone over their collectively dull heads.
It’d certainly created a sensation, blown way out of proportion, as things of such nature often did. Freak one person out and suddenly you’re on everyone’s high alert list. Nevermind, Julian was perfectly capable of handling it. Though it did cause enough of a stir to have received him a great many death threats, amidst the fanmail, hatemail and love letters. So this place was the only building he truly felt safe in, security gates and cameras everywhere, he could see into nearly room and from inside, he could view every inch of the grounds outside.
Julian left the still sleeping guest and headed directly upstairs to locate David, pushing open the door and looking at him with silent observation. “I’ve made breakfast, if you’re interested,” Julian didn’t bother with pleasantries or wondering if he’d slept alright, straight to the point was always best.
**
“Thank you.” Came a modest response, David cupping his vest pocket briefly as to ensure that the access card was still within his clothing. Leaving his very spot, the curtains swooshed heavily, concealing the still view of the outside world. David bit his lip, as he often did, following after Julian that had graciously made morning’s deal, hoping coffee included.
As he walked behind Julian, David was starting to feel less tensed with his surroundings.
**
Turning his back on someone he barely knew was probably not a wise move, but Julian had little fear of the pale creature padding after him into the dining hall. Coffee, of course, was an absolute must.
He sat down and pushed the morning paper Duke’s way, having browsed through it himself already while making the food. Toast, Eggs, Bacon and Coffee. Duke was free to eat as little or as much as he liked, Julian helped himself to his fill and spoke of not a thing during the meal.
His thoughts consumed his very presence, immersed within them deep enough to almost feel alone, save for the gentle rustling of the newspaper to remind him that someone else was indeed here.
Using a napkin to free his lips of anything that might have strayed from his fork, Julian slowly finished his coffee and got to his feet. Silence was the norm around here, Duke was going to appreciate it once they got started, their guest wasn’t always going to be this complacent.
“Come,” Julian invited Duke once he was finished, then he left the dining hall and walked into one of his other rooms. Restraints of all kinds were in here, everything was sterile and the room resembled a medical bay. “We’ll be doing some of our work in here,” Julian struggled to use the term ‘we’ but managed to pull it off smooth enough.
A loud, long scream could now be heard from down the long hallway and Julian barely even blinked. “It’s time we got started,” he looked to Duke’s eyes, then he led the way to the only locked cell.
A man gripped the bars, desperation and fear in his wide eyes, pupils tiny pinpoints as drugs flowed through his system. Julian had seen to that at some point early before breakfast, and last night as well.
“Let me out!” he shook the bars, “I’ll call the cops!”
“Relax Simon,” Julian stood back, recognizing the drugs had given him some extra strength, “you signed a consent form, now step away from the door or I won’t open it.”
The man looked at Duke, eyes crazed with shaking hands and trembling jaws. “You gotta help me, man!” he pleaded.
Julian looked at Duke, waiting to see what his reaction would be, the cell key rested in his fingers in plain sight, would Duke let the man out or enforce the instruction to back away?
**
Coffee was more than enough to sate the Duke’s morning but then again, a meal wouldn’t sound too shabby. Helping himself with enough to keep him from possibly fainting for a long day, as he had predicted, he idly flicked through the pages of the newspaper. The news had always been the same; murder, people missing, the economy, how money runs the world and how the ecosystem is facing a decline. The rest were just snippets of celebrity gossip that though at times seem entertaining, it wasn’t considering he was part of it.
The world knew of his drug addiction and had paved way to set him a record for a rape allegation towards minor. Of course there was no truth in it and if there ever was, consent was shared. It could have been an attempt to blackmail him for money or fame; either which he simply would have generously assisted the young girl with.
Happy to see that no change had greatly impacted the papers, David finished his cup and followed after Julian. The silence wasn’t as oppressive as he had thought but noise wouldn’t be too bad. But perhaps, a bloodshot eyed man, pleading for mercy behind bars was quite an overboard.
The Duke stepped back, gaze shifting from the trembling prisoner to Julian who seemed so calm about the ordeal. Was this what he meant? It would be difficult to tell whether the Duke had gone pale or if it was his natural shade but mismatched eyes quaked lightly, gulping the need to brace himself for anything. David was guilty of his own vices and calling the cops should this man go free would add to his injury and possible ruin his career and life. A little selfish thought indeed, but David knew and had always remained firm with his priorities. This would be no different. There’d be no words fit to acknowledge or answer the man; he knew the feeling of captivity. Though not as intense but as one under management, consent signed is consent signed.
David merely took a step back behind Julian’s shade, allowing the man to do as he please. After all, Simon belonged to him.
**
Simon was sort of here, sort of not but he knew enough to realize that the pale man’s retreat meant his fate was in Julian’s hands. Julian switched his attention to the man in the cell, eyes piercing. “Get back!” Julian instructed once again. Simon stumbled backwards, intimidated by the tone in Julian’s voice and those harsh eyes that bore into his very soul. His body shuddered, watching as Julian stepped forwards and slid the key into the lock.
Pressing himself into the far wall, Simon looked to David once more for any sign that he’d do something to help out. That’s when Julian grabbed him, strength underlying in his unassuming, relaxed appearance. Simon leapt off the ground, pushing back into Julian’s chest and kicking his legs out in the air, Julian held onto him and hauled him out of the cell.
Screaming, thrashing, Simon fought and struggled every inch of the way until Julian got him onto a chair. Straps secured his body down into place, Julian urged David to assist him in this and finally, Simon could barely even arch his back, or shake his head. A chin and forehead strap further ensured he was quite still.
“Now Simon,” Julian spoke to him calmly, “we agreed on this.”
He tried to put a mouth guard into the man’s jaw to stifle his screams but it was clenched in fear. After some failed gentle coaxing, Julian picked up a long, metal rod that was sharpened at one end. Shoving it without warning into Simon’s ribs elicited a holler, the mouthguard was slotted into place and the chin strap was then tightened to prevent Simon from spitting it out.
“I don’t want you swallowing your tongue, or disturbing my partner here,” Julian scolded him softly, stroking the man’s hair as if affectionate towards him, “now, David.. “ Julian’s gaze flicked to the clearly unnerved rockstar, “this man has been given two doses of meth, can you tell me just by looking at him, what is he experiencing? Be very descriptive.”
Julian needed David to paint him a picture with which he could work, then the tests could begin.
**
David watched Simon struggle and felt neither pity nor anything within the spectrum of emotions; the kind of feeling that birthed the Thin White Duke and separated him from the glamour that is Ziggy Stardust. A feeling of nothingness; an empty, void that neither was good nor bad for him. A feeling that had worked well in the Duke’s favor; throwing darts at lovers’ eyes.
Though there was a speck of pain brewing from the back of David’s mind as he obediently stood beside Julian, restraining Simon’s legs as much as he could, it was not of pity. He felt pain for what might have driven the man to sway into the dark side of drug abuse; pain of which he too is yet to conquer properly.
Julian manhandled the man like he was nothing, which he was; he had gone pale, boney - thin, and odd discoloration over the man’s flesh. Stoic although out the process of forcing the man onto the dreaded seat, David merely winced as a loud shriek pierced him deaf; shoving his index into his left ear, briefly shaking the ringing sound off.
Thankful the man was not clean enough for touch, David approached without hesitation, placing his fingers over the man’s chest while the other set of appendages ran along the man’s neck; hoping Julian didn’t mind. Eyes intently tracing the nerves that had gone visible and thick. “This is when the good stuff happens.” The Duke turned to acknowledge Julian by the eyes before turning back to the green tracks of life over Simon’s neck. “It’s sort of uh…” He’d pause, cupping the man’s Jaw and peering into Simon’s eyes. “An awakening of sort. You feel yourself God in the eyes of many. A gratifying sensation of you ask me.” He chuckled shortly, quite focused on Simon, “A little like sex, love; but you won’t have to move or you don’t feel someone’s weight riding you like a bull.”
**
Julian watched and waited, patience in his very being and a relaxed silence about him, as if the living being before them was a mere mannequinn, devoid of human rights or perhaps himself devoid of human morals. A mixture of both? There was a moment of pause here and there, Julian understood the need for this and did not urge David to hurry up and spit it out.
At the explanation, Julian felt quite taken by the descriptive words used by the intelligent creature before him. It wasn’t often a good idea to captivate Julian, he always got it into his head that he needed to look deeper into you to explain how you’d done it to him, and quite literally at that.
He had once met a woman, who had this odd manner of saying thank you by kissing him upon the cheek and hugging him. She meant nothing more by it, just simple gratitude for whatever she believed he’d done for her, but it had moved him in a way. A quick grasp of her wrist and he’d let her go just as swiftly, for fear that he would do something to regret upon the morrow. But what?
Like a tinkerer wanting to know how and why things worked, Julian liked to open things up to peek inside, but corpses could only tell him so much. Medical books and websites even less. True knowledge came from first hand experience, but the knowledge he sought was best obtained in secret and with a lot of careful planning.
Already he had so many ideas buzzing around in his mind, that he began to draw rough sketches in a large notepad that sat on the desk in the corner. Just from that one paragraph alone, Julian had the bulk of his next work figured out. He then looked around at David, so far he hadn’t seemed too phased by what Julian had done. Now for the next part, he needed to ask first. “How much pain can he tolerate at this point?” Julian wondered.
Now this was not for art’s sake, this was Julian’s own curiosity. David could choose to answer or simply shrug, either way, Julian was going to make use of an array of sharp instruments to find out and Simon just about fainted at the sight of them as Julian wheeled them into position by the chair. Julian lifted his gaze, putting on a white butcher’s apron and clear, plastic mask to protect his eyes. He put some gloves on and Simon began to cry out, his tone knowing of what was going to happen and easily saddened at the fact that he could do nothing about it. Like a small child in the shadow of her father, his belt raised and she, cowering the corner, unable to do anything more than sob and wait for the inevitable.
“I rather enjoyed your analogy, David,” Julian spoke from behind a white mask now, it covered his mouth and nose but the corners of his eyes crinkled, revealing he had smiled, “you might want to step back.”
**
Within his frame of mind, David wondered if he would end up locked in a cell tormented as such for the glory of science or whatever Julian would call it. He wondered how far people would go to extract knowledge even if it meant causing the greatest form of torture; psychological manipulation. It wasn’t a mere test of strength and human limitation or was it a study to formulate a research about using meth to promote human awareness, no; it was more of a personal thing, as how he had observed. He wasn’t in a faculty or a laboratory that included safety precautions, men and women in white with scrawny clipboards, and multiple screens that ensured quality protocol. Then again, he could be wrong.
He hadn’t bought Julian’s feedback upon his poor choice of words and analogy; he knew in himself that he could have done better, but making light of things felt necessary, at least for him. Here, before him, was man that had pleaded dearly to be spared and he, a man who had the globe within the palm of his hands, declined. Avarice? Pride? Lusting curiosity?
“Sure. Yeah, absolutely.” He responded, taking his sweet time to part his fingers from Simon in an attempt to show an absent sympathy. He leaned in, almost driven by a stronger force, kissing the man’s forehead, eyes shut for a moment before he withdrew upon Julian’s instruction. A silent prayer uttered in silence.
**
Julian reached over and picked up a long, thin needle. His gaze flicked down to the wide eyed man before him, urgent, muffled screams of protest coming from the forcibly clenched jaws and the body trembled as much as it could under the restraints. Julian had to wonder if David saw himself lying on that chair, for all the drugs the rock star did, it quite likely could have been but for the fact that he was famous. A venture far too risky, even for Julian to undertake.
Unknowns, people without friends nor family, those were the main people he could rely on to sign his dodgy consent forms under the influence of illicit substances or in exchange for something they desperately needed. He found David’s behavior curious, but didn’t dwell upon it as he carefully approached the chair, calm as you like and hovered the needle close to Simon’s eye while picking up a second one into his left hand.
Julian’s fingers weren’t even shaking the slightest bit, he had a surgical precision to his hands, they were skilled enough to do what he needed but never before had he ever done this in front of someone. His eyes remain on Simon, who was breathing fearfully and heavily through his nose at the sight of a needle point directly in front of his eye, so close it could almost just.. A sudden scream pierced the silence of the room, the needle in Julian’s right hand still remained hovering over Simon’s eye, it hadn’t moved.
Blood streamed from Simon’s ear, the other needle in Julian’s left hand now jutting out of it. Unaffected by the scream and the desperately painful, muffled sobs that followed, Julian watched with intent to see how long it took Simon to calm down. Simon tried to fight back, so desperate to get away, he thrashed and there came a sickening snap as his arm broke under the sudden straining of his drug enhanced state.
“Fuck!” Julian hissed angrily, setting down the needle but leaving the other jammed into Simon’s ear. He hurried around to the other side, ignoring the loud wails of the still struggling and now regretful Simon. Julian examined the break, bone jutted from torn flesh and blood gushed out in rivers of crimson. Julian opened a drawer, filled a syringe and injected Simon with a liquid. He moved swiftly to splint the break, firmly bandaging it up to keep it still.
Simon was quiet again, the new shot of meth calming him for the time being. Julian walked back around to the other side and carefully pulled out the needle from Simon’s ear, eliciting a painful howl and causing unconsciousness. He tossed it into the nearby sink, took up his notebook then he gestured for David to follow him into another room.
This room was less sterile and more cluttered, but with paints and acrylics, as well as all manner of things he could use to create his next work of art. Julian looked around at David, removing his white mask and clear goggles. He switched on the laptop and pulled up his playlist, background music filled the room and David would recognize his own voice.
“We’ll get back to him later,” Julian explained, “this is where the magic happens.”
He looked down at his sketches, then turned his eyes back to David.
“Tell me again,” he needed to hear more as he took out his pencil, “how do you mean it’s like God and sex?” The two just did not seem to go together.
“Explain.”
**
(page 3: http://luv-bowie-luver.livejournal.com/61491.html)