what he arrives with: two tote bags jingle to the careful chime of metal on metal, the crinkle of papers stuffed into two large drafting pads tucked beneath his arms, and what looks to be the baggage that comes from being on a day three - brisk movements belying the consistent flit of concentration that comes from not having slept. but there are places to be, and things to do. kaveh adds two knocks to the door before him, and takes a polite step back. his head bows; he assesses before he speaks. ]
Well, there's you. [ kaveh says, bright. ] Let me in?
[And thus does Daan open the door to his combination office and apartment, nodding to Kaveh. Daan looks, of course, more colorful today than he had the last they met, and his arm looking no worse for wear. Though he's still tired and still pale as always, it's a drastic improvement to significant blood loss and... well, arm loss.
In his hand is a glass containing his favored cocktail, an old fashioned. He nods and gestures Kaveh inside.]
[ daan, kaveh thinks, looks alive. that's more than what kaveh can assert based on his last memory of him, pale and drawn and wrapped in table cloth like half a funeral shroud on the third floor of the haunted house. he looks better, though admittedly the bar is low. it warms kaveh's heart regardless to see it.
he offers a matching nod as he steps into the apartment proper. it's instinct to assess the bones of the apartment. no architect would do less. kaveh looks, and thinks - this is a space designed first for the clinic and second for its inhabitant. the majority of apartment layouts in this city are eerily similar, with only one or two layout and cosmetic differences. kaveh sketches out in his mind's eye the walking space, the hint of a hallway leading to the hint of a kitchenette and two rooms that logically would host either one or two examination rooms given how the entrance is laid out like a waiting area. what the man lacks, likely, is storage space, and a space to really live.
it gives kaveh the distinct impression, he thinks, that doctor daan is first and foremost a doctor, and secondmost 'daan'. ]
Do you offer a drink to everyone who meddles in your business, or am I just special in that regard? [ is what kaveh says, right-quick. and then, in the exact same tone: ] What are you having?
Oh, I offer one to most people. Don't worry, Kaveh; you aren't the first person to meddle in my affairs.
[Daan has a drink from his glass, ice clinking.]
An old fashioned, but I can make other things depending on your tastes.
[And he does try to be prepared for the variation of company that does inevitably come over. Not to patients usually, but that's not all the people that come by.]
Oh, good, you're used to it. Must be because there's so many terrible habits to meddle with.
[ kaveh considers this. an old-fashioned what, he wants to say, but he supposes his silence conveys that much. alcohol names translate poorly across cultures, he finds. but what he says is this: ] Make me your specialty. Do you have a counter or a table I can use to spread out some things?
[It's in this moment that Daan debates the wisdom of putting up with this spicy architect, but considering the help he'd given before he opts to relent with an irritated sigh.]
My office, two doors down the hallway. I'll bring you a drink while you get set up.
[It seems that, if nothing else, Daan's bartending doesn't require the loss of anything on his body. So he has that going for him. If anything, as he sets to mix together the drink, it is from practice over the many years, longer than he could even call himself a doctor.
So when he does go to meet with Kaveh in the office it is with a second glass to provide to him.]
[ daan sighs. kaveh grins. the grin fades a little from view as daan turns to fuss over the making of a drink. in truth, kaveh ought not drink - not as he is. in further truth, curiosity drives kaveh to want to observe the process of it. but something frenetic chews beneath kaveh's skin. he passes by the kitchenette and situates himself in daan's office.
across the desk: a schematic for a wire saw done in kaveh's slantwise printing-press neat handwriting and elegant, curving lines, annotated with questions and notes on the hardness and sharpness requisite to cut through bone and a few jotted notes on wire configuration and the distance between blades. two more schematics laid out side-by-side, one for a padded, enclosed arm-shaped sling, and the other for what looks to be a foldable, tooth-edged press done in the exact, precise measurements of the circle that kaveh had drawn for daan in the haunted house.
when daan enters, kaveh is putting aside a tote bag that, when left alone, sags a little to reveal what looks to be a container of stew. he looks up with a grateful, smiling curve. ]
Thank you. [ kaveh takes the glass. ] Same as yours, or?
[There's a pause as Daan's eye glances over the schematics, then slowly looking toward the container of stew. He doesn't assume that's for him; for all he knows, Kaveh's just arrived with his own lunch. Which is fine, Daan wouldn't be able to serve anyone a proper meal here anyway.
He nods at the question.]
Same thing.
Not sure how strong you like it, so I just left it as I'd make for myself. [Daan shrugs and looks at the schematics again, his expression softening slightly at the circle.]
...And what exactly is this for? [He can hazard a guess, but...]
[ kaveh's fingers smooth over his schematics. he first takes a drink. he lets his fingers linger. it goes down smoothly. he says: ]
For when the next time you decide to lose a limb, or whatever other bodily injury you've inflicted on yourself. I present to you a circle press. [ kaveh's fingers trace the lines as he lays out its purpose: ] I don't know if this will work for you. Bear in mind this is conjecture based on what I've seen of your needs; I may be completely off with my guesses. I will need you to correct me. It's essentially a metal template that can be folded up into a fifty-by-fifty centimetre carrying case. It has two use cases: one, in the case that simply having the circle carved does the trick, you can place the template on non-stone, non-cement and non-wood surfaces and the circle will imprint. Two: if the actual act of carving is necessary to the ritual, then on non-stone, non-cement and non-wood surfaces, it will have loosened the ground enough that you merely need to trace over it with a chisel or your kitchen knife.
For wood and stone surfaces, the kind of press it would it take to do it for you would be too heavy for you to carry, and would require more force than you are capable of applying. I was holding you; I have sense of your weight. Even if you stood on it, it wouldn't be enough. But that's why it comes with a blowtorch and a hammer. [ kaveh taps the secondary diagram. it had been five in the morning when he'd considered its addition. ] When heated, the metal will sear into wood. It will, at minimum, scorch the wood and loosen it enough in a traceable pattern so that you can carve into it with a single hand.
[The comment on his weight earns a brief wrinkle of his nose, but otherwise... well.
Well. Daan hadn't expected upon this possibility. It's useful, especially in a pinch, such as it was in the Haunted House.]
...It needs to be carved. [He does confirm that fact.] This is... well. ...It's appreciated, Kaveh. I don't plan on any additional sacrifices, especially since it bore no use, but I suppose down the line... then we'll see.
[Daan finishes his glass and sets it aside.]
I want to also emphasize that absolutely no one else should make use of these ritual circles. Carving them by themselves doesn't do anything, it's the sigil you make use of. So, this can't be made for anyone else's use. ...It's for their sake.
Oh, I understand. Believe me, I don't want anyone else to have gone through what you went through. This is only for you. [ kaveh looks at daan. it's an assessing look. ] But I happen to know something about self-sacrificial men. It's that when it's for the sake of someone else, even if it's been proven otherwise, the little voice will be there: what if this time it works?
I'd rather you have a stencil than having to do it all on your own again. That's all. [ ... ] Besides, we don't know what will happen in the future.
[ if the veil weakens; if the experimenters allow this sort of ritual to come to pass. kaveh doesn't know. he doesn't want it. but like he told ghost, you don't become an architect by only thinking of the best-case scenarios. good architects do, perhaps, but not the best ones. the best ones are all pessimists. ]
[There's a slow, annoyed sigh, but it's only because he does know Kaveh is right. In the haze of grief, Daan didn't bother to acknowledge the logic of it when he was trying to bring Vergilius back. He knew the usual sacrifice wouldn't be enough, but he was desperate to try anyway due to the awful ache in his chest.
Such is the way with love. Suddenly all logic just goes out the damned window, and you're willing to do anything.]
...Depends on the person in question. But fair enough. [The list of people he'd do it for it short, but the fact that it is indeed multiple is probably conceived a problem by others. Heine was furious, as was Vergilius. He'd hoped to cover his tracks and failed to do that much, but still... Daan could not say he really regretted it. No, he would only regret not trying.]
Down the line, we don't know. That much is certain. And if this spares me time, then it'll help. Here's hoping it won't come to that.
[But then, he never thought he'd get to the point of ripping himself apart for another person ever again.]
I'm hoping too. I think hope needn't be passive, nor blind.
[ kaveh breathes out. it's good, he thinks, that he hadn't been terribly off-track with his guesses. kaveh taps the other two schematics. his nail-bitten fingers carve a line across his annotations. ] I'm more sure of the cover for your arm, should you need that again. There won't always been decorations and curtain cords available. It's the wire saw that I will need your expertise in.
[The nails do catch his eye, but Daan remains silent on it for right now. Trying to antagonize Kaveh right back doesn't sound appealing when genuinely Daan has an interest in helping him, so for now he merely takes a mental note and moves on.]
The arm casing is a good thought. If the ritual circle to Sylvian works as intended in the future, I won't have need of it, but for now... [Well, you know.] Is now a bad time to mention that legs can be used in sacrifice?
In any case. We can discuss the bonesaw. Bear in mind I'm more used to a traditional blade, but I'll offer my input as I can.
Oh, legs. I knew I was forgetting something. Adjustable straps and extra canvas. [ the pencil comes out of the crow's nest of kaveh's hair. he appends his annotations with a sullen look. ] You're only getting one of these casings. If you've the penchant to sacrifice more than one limb in one go, then you deserve what's coming to you.
[ for the bonesaw, kaveh runs through them, the annotated questions and a few that he had from memory: projected tensile strength, if there was a specific method of coiling the wire, the distance between metal teeth and the shape of the grip. he asks about types of metals, and eventually concludes that stainless steel wire would be both easy to obtain and optimal as a material. he draws seven different comparisons for wire thickness and grills daan on each.
finally: ]
And lastly, do you have a colour preference for the grip?
Legs aren't my first pick anyway. Dragging yourself around by your hands or hopping around... seems really troublesome. [To put lightly. Most people don't discuss this kind of thing casually, but then there's Daan.
But he can't fault Kaveh for opting for basically saying that if he does more than one limb than he's on his own. That's fair.
The discussion of the bonesaw is more or less satisfactory, even if he'd rather have it be one-handed. Changing Kaveh's mind isn't much of an option, so for now he acquiesces.
The idea of a preference of color for the handle feels silly, but--]
[ kaveh, who, when told that heine once bit someone's face off, had asked earnestly which part of the face he'd bitten, considers this and thinks - wheelchair.
he's smiling there at the end. ]
That was a joke, but I'm glad you've some kind of preference. Paint is easy to source here. I'll have it be red.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[Because he's sure it's the latter.]
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But fine. Let's review your design, shall we.
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[ping! But he's definitely making himself a cocktail for this.]
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what he arrives with: two tote bags jingle to the careful chime of metal on metal, the crinkle of papers stuffed into two large drafting pads tucked beneath his arms, and what looks to be the baggage that comes from being on a day three - brisk movements belying the consistent flit of concentration that comes from not having slept. but there are places to be, and things to do. kaveh adds two knocks to the door before him, and takes a polite step back. his head bows; he assesses before he speaks. ]
Well, there's you. [ kaveh says, bright. ] Let me in?
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In his hand is a glass containing his favored cocktail, an old fashioned. He nods and gestures Kaveh inside.]
I don't suppose you'd care for a drink?
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he offers a matching nod as he steps into the apartment proper. it's instinct to assess the bones of the apartment. no architect would do less. kaveh looks, and thinks - this is a space designed first for the clinic and second for its inhabitant. the majority of apartment layouts in this city are eerily similar, with only one or two layout and cosmetic differences. kaveh sketches out in his mind's eye the walking space, the hint of a hallway leading to the hint of a kitchenette and two rooms that logically would host either one or two examination rooms given how the entrance is laid out like a waiting area. what the man lacks, likely, is storage space, and a space to really live.
it gives kaveh the distinct impression, he thinks, that doctor daan is first and foremost a doctor, and secondmost 'daan'. ]
Do you offer a drink to everyone who meddles in your business, or am I just special in that regard? [ is what kaveh says, right-quick. and then, in the exact same tone: ] What are you having?
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[Daan has a drink from his glass, ice clinking.]
An old fashioned, but I can make other things depending on your tastes.
[And he does try to be prepared for the variation of company that does inevitably come over. Not to patients usually, but that's not all the people that come by.]
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[ kaveh considers this. an old-fashioned what, he wants to say, but he supposes his silence conveys that much. alcohol names translate poorly across cultures, he finds. but what he says is this: ] Make me your specialty. Do you have a counter or a table I can use to spread out some things?
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My office, two doors down the hallway. I'll bring you a drink while you get set up.
[It seems that, if nothing else, Daan's bartending doesn't require the loss of anything on his body. So he has that going for him. If anything, as he sets to mix together the drink, it is from practice over the many years, longer than he could even call himself a doctor.
So when he does go to meet with Kaveh in the office it is with a second glass to provide to him.]
thank u i laughed
across the desk: a schematic for a wire saw done in kaveh's slantwise printing-press neat handwriting and elegant, curving lines, annotated with questions and notes on the hardness and sharpness requisite to cut through bone and a few jotted notes on wire configuration and the distance between blades. two more schematics laid out side-by-side, one for a padded, enclosed arm-shaped sling, and the other for what looks to be a foldable, tooth-edged press done in the exact, precise measurements of the circle that kaveh had drawn for daan in the haunted house.
when daan enters, kaveh is putting aside a tote bag that, when left alone, sags a little to reveal what looks to be a container of stew. he looks up with a grateful, smiling curve. ]
Thank you. [ kaveh takes the glass. ] Same as yours, or?
fingerguns
He nods at the question.]
Same thing.
Not sure how strong you like it, so I just left it as I'd make for myself. [Daan shrugs and looks at the schematics again, his expression softening slightly at the circle.]
...And what exactly is this for? [He can hazard a guess, but...]
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For when the next time you decide to lose a limb, or whatever other bodily injury you've inflicted on yourself. I present to you a circle press. [ kaveh's fingers trace the lines as he lays out its purpose: ] I don't know if this will work for you. Bear in mind this is conjecture based on what I've seen of your needs; I may be completely off with my guesses. I will need you to correct me. It's essentially a metal template that can be folded up into a fifty-by-fifty centimetre carrying case. It has two use cases: one, in the case that simply having the circle carved does the trick, you can place the template on non-stone, non-cement and non-wood surfaces and the circle will imprint. Two: if the actual act of carving is necessary to the ritual, then on non-stone, non-cement and non-wood surfaces, it will have loosened the ground enough that you merely need to trace over it with a chisel or your kitchen knife.
For wood and stone surfaces, the kind of press it would it take to do it for you would be too heavy for you to carry, and would require more force than you are capable of applying. I was holding you; I have sense of your weight. Even if you stood on it, it wouldn't be enough. But that's why it comes with a blowtorch and a hammer. [ kaveh taps the secondary diagram. it had been five in the morning when he'd considered its addition. ] When heated, the metal will sear into wood. It will, at minimum, scorch the wood and loosen it enough in a traceable pattern so that you can carve into it with a single hand.
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Well. Daan hadn't expected upon this possibility. It's useful, especially in a pinch, such as it was in the Haunted House.]
...It needs to be carved. [He does confirm that fact.] This is... well. ...It's appreciated, Kaveh. I don't plan on any additional sacrifices, especially since it bore no use, but I suppose down the line... then we'll see.
[Daan finishes his glass and sets it aside.]
I want to also emphasize that absolutely no one else should make use of these ritual circles. Carving them by themselves doesn't do anything, it's the sigil you make use of. So, this can't be made for anyone else's use. ...It's for their sake.
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I'd rather you have a stencil than having to do it all on your own again. That's all. [ ... ] Besides, we don't know what will happen in the future.
[ if the veil weakens; if the experimenters allow this sort of ritual to come to pass. kaveh doesn't know. he doesn't want it. but like he told ghost, you don't become an architect by only thinking of the best-case scenarios. good architects do, perhaps, but not the best ones. the best ones are all pessimists. ]
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Such is the way with love. Suddenly all logic just goes out the damned window, and you're willing to do anything.]
...Depends on the person in question. But fair enough. [The list of people he'd do it for it short, but the fact that it is indeed multiple is probably conceived a problem by others. Heine was furious, as was Vergilius. He'd hoped to cover his tracks and failed to do that much, but still... Daan could not say he really regretted it. No, he would only regret not trying.]
Down the line, we don't know. That much is certain. And if this spares me time, then it'll help. Here's hoping it won't come to that.
[But then, he never thought he'd get to the point of ripping himself apart for another person ever again.]
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[ kaveh breathes out. it's good, he thinks, that he hadn't been terribly off-track with his guesses. kaveh taps the other two schematics. his nail-bitten fingers carve a line across his annotations. ] I'm more sure of the cover for your arm, should you need that again. There won't always been decorations and curtain cords available. It's the wire saw that I will need your expertise in.
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The arm casing is a good thought. If the ritual circle to Sylvian works as intended in the future, I won't have need of it, but for now... [Well, you know.] Is now a bad time to mention that legs can be used in sacrifice?
In any case. We can discuss the bonesaw. Bear in mind I'm more used to a traditional blade, but I'll offer my input as I can.
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Oh, legs. I knew I was forgetting something. Adjustable straps and extra canvas. [ the pencil comes out of the crow's nest of kaveh's hair. he appends his annotations with a sullen look. ] You're only getting one of these casings. If you've the penchant to sacrifice more than one limb in one go, then you deserve what's coming to you.
[ for the bonesaw, kaveh runs through them, the annotated questions and a few that he had from memory: projected tensile strength, if there was a specific method of coiling the wire, the distance between metal teeth and the shape of the grip. he asks about types of metals, and eventually concludes that stainless steel wire would be both easy to obtain and optimal as a material. he draws seven different comparisons for wire thickness and grills daan on each.
finally: ]
And lastly, do you have a colour preference for the grip?
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But he can't fault Kaveh for opting for basically saying that if he does more than one limb than he's on his own. That's fair.
The discussion of the bonesaw is more or less satisfactory, even if he'd rather have it be one-handed. Changing Kaveh's mind isn't much of an option, so for now he acquiesces.
The idea of a preference of color for the handle feels silly, but--]
...Red.
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he's smiling there at the end. ]
That was a joke, but I'm glad you've some kind of preference. Paint is easy to source here. I'll have it be red.
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cw: some hint of suicidal ideation
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