The world is gonna pull through (for onebehind)

[the_death_card]

For the first time since before his mother's death, Jack is managing to relax. It took some effort, and he still has the occasional nightmare about things that have happened in the past, but for the first time in longer than he can actually remember, he's starting to be sure that everything's okay. If fucking up a couple of times himself didn't mess anything up, and then putting his foster in the hospital didn't get him kicked back into the system, he's not sure what he could actually do to make it happen.

To say he's cool with that is putting it mildly, too. When all this started, when he tried to rob a freaking fed and ended up getting fostered by him, he never would have imagined it. It's still beyond anything he could have imagined, between finding out that magic is real, and that he has it, and that Dylan has it, and that there's a whole bunch of other people out there with it, and finding out about the double life Dylan's been leading for years, now, like some actual high budget thriller, well. All his dreams about ending up with the perfect foster parent never looked like this, but he's pretty sure it's better.

This afternoon, he's taking up the entirety of the couch in the Brownstone, finished homework to one side of him, the remains of his after school snack to the other where he hasn't bothered to get up and put the dishes in the sink yet, and his laptop in his lap as he screws around on MySpace, looking through magic videos.

When the door opens, he glances at it long enough to make sure it's Dylan before he goes back to turning a distinctly unimpressed look at his screen.

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[onebehind]

Dylan offers him a little nod as he heads for the kitchen, that much still force of habit even if he's not going for a drink-drink. He wanders back in, several minutes later, tie and suit coat gone, and bag abandoned, with a glass in hand. While it may look like bourbon in presentation, however, it's not -- there's nothing more sinister than iced tea in this whiskey tumbler, and the glass itself is brand new, so he can't be accused of drinking out of it because it makes everything taste vaguely like booze. He's being good. He just needs the habit, the glass to keep himself from actually falling back into the habit. He needs something to do with his hands to keep the anxiety at bay, to keep himself from thinking about drinking.

Jack likely knows this, by now, the pantomime something he explained the first time he did it, and so, when he opens his mouth to say something, it's not to offer excuses. Whatever he is going to say is lost, however, when his attentions are caught by whatever it is Jack's watching. He watches, too, for several seconds, and then with a huff and a disgusted face, shakes his head and looks away.

"Why're you watching that shit?" He doesn't fault Jack for his interest in magic, mundane or otherwise, all things considered, but -- David Blaine? Really?

[the_death_card]

Jack returns the nod, turning his attention back to his laptop while Dylan goes through coming down from work and getting something to drink. One eyebrow climbs up Jack's forehead as he watches, and he almost startles when Dylan speaks again, glancing up and back over his shoulder at Dylan. "Uh... somebody linked it on something else I was watching," he returns, falling silent again for a moment.

"I'm not actually supposed to want to punch this guy in the face for doing basic production shit, right?"

[onebehind]

"Magicians in general, no," Dylan starts, shaking his head as he moves to take his usual seat. "That guy, though? He's a dick." And Dylan would possibly literally pay to see someone punch him, provided the money didn't go to Blaine, himself, as part of a contract on some sort of publicity stunt.

[the_death_card]

"Yeah, I'm getting that," Jack agrees, stopping the video and backing up to what he had been watching, which was a kind of crappy bootleg of a performance by what will be a very familiar face in a few years.

"Also really hoping he's not..." Jack pauses. "Am I allowed to include myself and say 'one of us' when I mean the Eye even though I'm not, actually?"

[onebehind]

Dylan waves his worry away. Jack may not be a part of the Eye, no, but he knows what he means in saying that and, more than that, he imagines one day he will be. He'll allow it, all that in mind.

"He's not," he tells him, when he settles again. "And I'm pretty sure two-thirds of us would riot, if someone suggested letting him in." If not all of them. The Eye's opinion of David Blaine doesn't run very high across the board.

[the_death_card]

Jack settles a little in response to the dismissal, and then laughs a little. "Yeah, that's good to know. Because I definitely kinda hate him. I mean, not that everybody doesn't do it for the attention but it's like he just does it for the attention. I don't think he actually enjoys it."

[onebehind]

"Yeah, no argument." He might be slightly more willing to defend Blaine, if the whole of the Eye didn't seem to share the same opinion, second guessing himself, wondering if his bias was just that, but -- yeah, no. Clearly, it's not just him who thinks the guy's just doing it for his fifteen minutes, and he can take comfort in that.

"You shouldn't -- magic isn't about ... " he starts, stops, shakes his head, that in mind. He takes a moment, trying to control his anger, zeal or both, and then tries again. "It shouldn't be about the money or the spotlight. It's knowing that you made their lives a little less shitty for a few minutes." Or longer, depending.

[the_death_card]

Jack nods, attention drifting back to Daniel's video, though he is still listening to Dylan, as evidenced by the fact that he doesn't sound distracted when he answers. "Totally with you, man. I mean, the fame's a thing, yeah, but. If you're not entertaining people they're not gonna remember you anyway, so." He shrugs, popping one shoulder briefly.

[onebehind]

"Yep," Dylan agrees.

A pause follows, as he takes a sip of his drink, some small part of him disappointed in spite of himself that it's not liquor. When he lowers it again, he nods to Jack's laptop, ready to get away from talking about Blaine and that topic exhausted, anyway. "Who you got on, now?"

[the_death_card]

Jack glances over at him again, briefly. "Oh, uh," he begins, turning his laptop a little so Dylan can actually see it. "His name's J. Daniel Atlas? I've kinda been following his stuff, but it's kinda hard considering..." He trails off, gesturing vaguely at the poor quality of the video. He knows this recording shouldn't even exist, but he can't pass up watching it since it does. "Most of what gets on the internet's his street stuff unless he actually puts something out."

He pauses a beat, squinting at the screen a little as he finds one he watched earlier and starts that one instead. "Here, you can actually see shit in this one."

[onebehind]

Dylan shifts, moving down the couch and leaning forward on it, both, so he can watch without Jack having to angle the laptop entirely away from himself. After a minute, he snorts, amused, and glances up at Jack, briefly, before returning his attentions to the screen. "I'm not sure which's worse -- the hair or the fact that the kid looks like he's barely out of puberty."

More seriously, though, he seems like he knows what he's doing, and that's definitely impressive for how young he is. He also seems more into it than Blaine, which is also a plus.

[the_death_card]

Jack snorts. "Yeah, I thought my hair went curly enough when it got long. And he's like.. I think he's five or six years older than me? But he's good. He's apparently kind of an asshole if you believe MySpace, but." He trails off and shrugs. He's used to people being assholes, and it's not like he has to deal with the guy personally anyway. That someone not that much older than him is putting on good shows and building a name for themselves is what he cares about.

[onebehind]

Jack may not have a problem with Daniel being an asshole, but for Dylan, that's a more honest strike against him. Not that he has a reason to be weighing and measuring Daniel, yet, not that ego isn't something a lot of magicians, Eye or otherwise, struggle with, but still. It's still enough to make him make something of a face.

When he recovers from that momentary sourness, he shakes his head a little. "At least there's new blood coming in."

[the_death_card]

It's also social networking that says he's an asshole. Jack's already learned to take anything on there with a whole bucket of salt.

"Yeah," he agrees, thinking of some other people he's been watching lately, including Criss Angel and his tv specials - and then, he huffs out a laugh, turning a crooked grin to Dylan. "I was gonna say something about being glad magic's kind of the thing right now considering I feel kinda nerdy for being into it sometimes, but I guess I'm kinda preaching to the choir, right?"

[onebehind]

"You would be, yeah," Dylan starts, holding up a hand so Jack doesn't interrupt him. There's a but here, though not necessarily a bad one. "But it's not just a right now thing. Yeah, its popularity kind of comes and goes, but ... well, every decade has its guy. Or guys, whatever."

His father. Penn and Teller. Siegfried and Roy. Harry Houdini and Blackstone before them. And so on and so forth. Magic has and always will have its place in society.

[the_death_card]

"Okay yeah," he agrees after a moment. "That's kinda what I mean, though?" He shifts a little, looking up at Dylan. "Like... sometimes people treat it like it's just dumb or whatever, but it's been around forever, too."

[onebehind]

"And will continue to be," Dylan says by way of agreement and with a nod. A pause follows, and then, backing up slightly, conversationally, he adds, "But yeah, no, I'm definitely not judging you for being into it." Or else, as Jack pointed out, he'd have to judge himself, and -- well, with everything else going on, magic is the one thing he's still sure of. So, no.

[the_death_card]

Jack nods quickly, shooting him another grin. "Uh... besides the obvious" - besides the bigger names that Jack's probably already found - "there anybody you know I should look up?"

[onebehind]

A few names spring to mind, preliminary candidates for what he has in the works, but he thinks better of offering any of them. If he picks Jack to be on his team, like he thinks he's going to, his heart already set on that, to bring him into the fold, when he comes of age, he doesn't want him having enough of the picture to guess the end game -- to who's running it. He's going to have to be careful around Jack, these next few years, that in mind, while still teaching him what he'll need to know. It'll be a complicated line to walk, but he thinks it'll be worth it.

(Never mind the fact that all the people he can think of, right now, beyond Jack, are just idle considerations, at this point. He hasn't really cemented enough of the plan that who and what he thinks he needs won't change, from week to week, month to month.)

"Uh," Dylan starts effectually, that in mind. He makes a face, shakes his head, continues, "I don't know. Read me some of the names in the sidebar, and I'll tell you if they're worth looking at or not." He figures most, if not all, of the related videos are of other magicians, and giving Jack the illusion of choice feels like it'll get him off the spot, now and later, both.

[the_death_card]

"I've heard of most of these," he returns, though he squints at his screen a moment later. "Uh... Curtis Adams, Apollo Robbins, Mark Cairns, Mac King sounds familiar... um... Lisa Menna, Jason Dean... Penn and Teller are on here like five times but everybody knows them."

[onebehind]

"Curtis Adams," Dylan decides, the name familiar to him, too, even if he's not sure he's ever seen the guy perform. Maybe the guy is on the long list of potentials and that's where he knows the name from. Maybe he's not but he should be. Maybe he is but shouldn't be. Either way.

[the_death_card]

Jack clicks on the name once Dylan decides. "Okay, that's a giant rig." He clicks another couple of times to bring up biographical information. "And he's only got a couple years on me."

[onebehind]

Dylan shifts again, readjusting his position and his view, and squints at the screen as Jack brings up his biography. He's not surprised the kid's not much older than Jack (he sure doesn't look it), nor is he really surprised by much else that's on the page. Still, he files it all away for maybe later and, after a moment more, leans back.

"Lots of kids getting into the business," he murmurs, idly. That's not a bad thing, mind, and he doesn't make it sound like it is. It's good, that they have new blood coming in. Not that he wasn't sure they would, magic forever a thing, like he told Jack, but his generation is getting older. They'll be retiring, sooner rather than later, and it's good that there are people to fill their shoes.

Though, that makes him think --

"Hey, do me a favor?" A beat. "Look up Miranda Vale and see if she's got a MySpace page or whatever?" If nothing else, the people she pays to handle her publicity might have set something up, he thinks. Thinks but doesn't know. He hasn't spoken to Miranda in years.

[the_death_card]

"Feeling old?" Jack tosses off with a smirk, glancing back at Dylan again before he looks back at his laptop.

"Oh, yeah, I think I ran across her page at one point." He scrolls back to the top of the page to get to the search function, to look up Miranda's name - and, a moment later, the page loads. He shifts a little, turning the computer slightly so Dylan can get a look at it, scrolling down a little to start one of the videos.

[onebehind]

"Now I am," Dylan decides belatedly, expression growing distant as he watches the video, a pop up street act Miranda apparently did in Vegas between shows.

He's hundreds of miles and several decades away by the end of it, fingers running absently over the face of his watch. It takes him a moment or two more, after the video ends, to pull himself together and he does so with a shake of his head. It's unlikely he could tell Jack what was going on, in the video. It doesn't matter, anyway. What matters is, "You know, I kind of -- Mira, she's ... her mother and my old man were close."