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closeyourfistConsidering their first and last encounter ended with being hit so hard it knocked him over -- not even punched, slapped, which somehow made it feel even more demeaning -- Enver Gortash winds up in that cage and for a while only has vague imaginings to give him any sort of idea what is to come. There isn't enough room to stand, which doesn't bother him so much in the end, staying low is pretty much the only hope he has of any sort of warmth or cover. With the sounds of Bhaal's stronghold echoing off of every single wall, he is surrounded even when alone, but alone he allows himself some time for relief.
His tears are mostly quiet and anything louder than a sniffle he forcibly muffles until it has shaken out. He has to remind himself this is not about sorrow. It's about releasing some of this from his system so he can survive.
He is prepared for the worst and soon, but then the Dark Urge is just...gone. Tending to other duties within the temple and out in the city.
He is fed. And with the odd spell from passing acolytes and servants kept clean. The cold of the bars winds up providing some relief to the side of his face, and the swelling is nearly gone by the time his keeper is present again. Which could have been days, by his reckoning, or another spell he mistook for merely tidying him up.
He might call several days of reprieve time to prepare, but all it has really done is give him far too much to conflict inside his head.
Fear at the uncertainty of his fate.
A million imaginings of how he might make his escape again, but even the route he took before becomes more and more twisted the more he tries to work it out in his head. But even if he were navigating a place completely deserted, there are Baneites waiting somewhere in the streets above. He is as good as dead if he leaves, and he knows it, and damn it all, he does not wish for death in any measure.
The Dark Urge's presence is an immediate threat on several fronts now. But he is also Enver's only source of relief, and this intermingles with memories of how things were before -- meetings and conversations that occasionally left Bane's Chosen uneasy, but that he'd begun to secretly look forward to. But in the here and now he also feels certain and undone at the idea that the bhaalspawn may be his tormentor and not to be trusted or denied but he is also the only part of that former existence that remains. So when he finds himself longing for that, it becomes a longing for him as well.
But then there is again fear of what is to come and what has been. Let alone that this has all been the first he has been any sort of intimate, good or bad, with another person since before he ever heard Bane's voice. It has also been a very blessedly long time since he had the misfortune of any of that unprepared or unwanted (blessedly years after the House of Hope). And it took him more than a few days to recover. All that agony was not as bad as what was suffered in the moment, and that is the part he is afraid of. He's not that naive anymore, but he knows how much damage the Dark Urge could do without even trying. Without even meaning to kill him.
That very well might be an inevitability. Which is why he has to try to find a way around that. He won't escape if he tries, and the response to any such attempt would be punitive. The only thing he can do is try to talk. If he'll even let him.
If he even comes back.
But then he does, and it sickens Enver realizing what a terrible mixture of too-much energy, of fear, of hope and hunger the sight of him creates.
He sits up and immediately hates it. His back complains; his body is an instant victim to the open air at an angle that it wasn't prepared for. But his hands go to his lap rather than the bars. He's mindful of what is being done and is careful not to interrupt anything that looks pressing. "...Will you speak to me, Dark Urge?" he realizes he doesn't know how else to address him, but that may be the first time he has directly said it out loud to him. "Please."
His tears are mostly quiet and anything louder than a sniffle he forcibly muffles until it has shaken out. He has to remind himself this is not about sorrow. It's about releasing some of this from his system so he can survive.
He is prepared for the worst and soon, but then the Dark Urge is just...gone. Tending to other duties within the temple and out in the city.
He is fed. And with the odd spell from passing acolytes and servants kept clean. The cold of the bars winds up providing some relief to the side of his face, and the swelling is nearly gone by the time his keeper is present again. Which could have been days, by his reckoning, or another spell he mistook for merely tidying him up.
He might call several days of reprieve time to prepare, but all it has really done is give him far too much to conflict inside his head.
Fear at the uncertainty of his fate.
A million imaginings of how he might make his escape again, but even the route he took before becomes more and more twisted the more he tries to work it out in his head. But even if he were navigating a place completely deserted, there are Baneites waiting somewhere in the streets above. He is as good as dead if he leaves, and he knows it, and damn it all, he does not wish for death in any measure.
The Dark Urge's presence is an immediate threat on several fronts now. But he is also Enver's only source of relief, and this intermingles with memories of how things were before -- meetings and conversations that occasionally left Bane's Chosen uneasy, but that he'd begun to secretly look forward to. But in the here and now he also feels certain and undone at the idea that the bhaalspawn may be his tormentor and not to be trusted or denied but he is also the only part of that former existence that remains. So when he finds himself longing for that, it becomes a longing for him as well.
But then there is again fear of what is to come and what has been. Let alone that this has all been the first he has been any sort of intimate, good or bad, with another person since before he ever heard Bane's voice. It has also been a very blessedly long time since he had the misfortune of any of that unprepared or unwanted (blessedly years after the House of Hope). And it took him more than a few days to recover. All that agony was not as bad as what was suffered in the moment, and that is the part he is afraid of. He's not that naive anymore, but he knows how much damage the Dark Urge could do without even trying. Without even meaning to kill him.
That very well might be an inevitability. Which is why he has to try to find a way around that. He won't escape if he tries, and the response to any such attempt would be punitive. The only thing he can do is try to talk. If he'll even let him.
If he even comes back.
But then he does, and it sickens Enver realizing what a terrible mixture of too-much energy, of fear, of hope and hunger the sight of him creates.
He sits up and immediately hates it. His back complains; his body is an instant victim to the open air at an angle that it wasn't prepared for. But his hands go to his lap rather than the bars. He's mindful of what is being done and is careful not to interrupt anything that looks pressing. "...Will you speak to me, Dark Urge?" he realizes he doesn't know how else to address him, but that may be the first time he has directly said it out loud to him. "Please."
