Jack watches, taking in the motion of the fine muscles of the hands and face, the pupil dilation when Ianto looks at him again. That's a definite stress line – palpable cognitive dissonance and distress.
He steps closer, reaching out to cover one eye with his palm. "Eyes closed," he says – gentle command. Most people rely on their eyesight more than their other senses. Take that away, and you push them into a more vulnerable state.
Vulnerable is exactly where you want someone you're targeting for compliance.
"Just feel." His hand slips down, cradling the side of Ianto's neck, carefully positioned to track Ianto's heartbeat without being obvious about doing so. This is just contact. Just human contact. That's all.
At the same time, he lets a shield slip, calling up a sense of rock-solid competence and allowing it to seep out. Nothing dramatic, not just yet. Almost subconscious. Look at me. I've got everything in the palm of my hand. I'm in control. Don't you want to fall to that control?
"He made you want something," he says. "With every ounce of your body." Didn't he? Ianto is compliant enough already that he doesn't need to feel his way through, ask questions. He can pretty much tell him the answers he needs to work with. "A hunger for the hunt. There was a moment when it was too much, too sharp; you'd never consider it. And then right down to the pit of your stomach it was there, pulling you down those alleys, and you could taste it on the back of your tongue."
Another slight slip past the shields, still subtle. Fix on me. And there's the old hunger, the perverse twist on empathy they carved into him in the Agency. I'll own you. With your blood on your hands I'll own you and I need you...
And of course, This is what it feels like, isn't it? Come a little bit closer.
"That one moment where it changed. That spark." ianto got a primary and proximate authority in one session, levered right into his mind.
Jack is pretty sure he can supplant that.
"I want you there." Ease back on the shield. Let the hunger rise. "Right. There."
no subject
He steps closer, reaching out to cover one eye with his palm. "Eyes closed," he says – gentle command. Most people rely on their eyesight more than their other senses. Take that away, and you push them into a more vulnerable state.
Vulnerable is exactly where you want someone you're targeting for compliance.
"Just feel." His hand slips down, cradling the side of Ianto's neck, carefully positioned to track Ianto's heartbeat without being obvious about doing so. This is just contact. Just human contact. That's all.
At the same time, he lets a shield slip, calling up a sense of rock-solid competence and allowing it to seep out. Nothing dramatic, not just yet. Almost subconscious. Look at me. I've got everything in the palm of my hand. I'm in control. Don't you want to fall to that control?
"He made you want something," he says. "With every ounce of your body." Didn't he? Ianto is compliant enough already that he doesn't need to feel his way through, ask questions. He can pretty much tell him the answers he needs to work with. "A hunger for the hunt. There was a moment when it was too much, too sharp; you'd never consider it. And then right down to the pit of your stomach it was there, pulling you down those alleys, and you could taste it on the back of your tongue."
Another slight slip past the shields, still subtle. Fix on me. And there's the old hunger, the perverse twist on empathy they carved into him in the Agency. I'll own you. With your blood on your hands I'll own you and I need you...
And of course, This is what it feels like, isn't it? Come a little bit closer.
"That one moment where it changed. That spark." ianto got a primary and proximate authority in one session, levered right into his mind.
Jack is pretty sure he can supplant that.
"I want you there." Ease back on the shield. Let the hunger rise. "Right. There."