[As soon as they're alone, Dorian's smile becomes more properly a smile, if a bit tired at the edges.]
Plenty. I'm beginning to think it's going to be easy to meet quota in a place like this. Go to half the bars and clubs and that's all people are looking for. [The approach is a bit mercantile for his liking, but in a pinch it'll get the job done.] The ones out of their minds on drugs notwithstanding.
[Once the elevator takes them to the right floor and they reach the door to his suite, Dorian opens the front door and gestures inside.]
It's safe though, [generally speaking] which is more than can be said for the Down, I imagine.
[ there's the slightest shift of his expression towards a frown at the mention of quota, unsure he'd want to discuss that. it's something he needs to consider, but he hasn't given it much thought outside of what dorian has mentioned. people here do look for it. it's all they think or talk about. it's all he really hears when he's moving around, and it's honestly exhausting.
larus slips into dorian's apartment and decides to pull himself out of his jacket once inside. a note to stay longer than last time. ]
I suppose safe is better than not. [ as if he has anything to worry about. ] At least you don't have much to worry about being here.
[ in the up, he means. other than that, larus isn't too pleased about anything—especially his own situation. ]
[That little budging of Larus' face into a darker look earns him a light, and companionable touch on the arm.]
Come sit, [Dorian encourages warmly. After a moment, if Larus is amenable, he'll lead their way over to a plush couch in the middle of his artful, if still stark-looking for the immortal's tastes, sitting room.] You can leave your coat just there.
No. [For many reasons.] I've heard that violence is frequent in the Down and that it's unwise [a beat] for most people to go about alone. Have you run into anything like that?
[ the touch doesn't go unmissed, a fleeting rush of warmth that's taken away almost too soon.
but at least dorian doesn't linger too much on the talk of quota, allowing himself to be led and sitting just on the edge of the couch he's guided to. things like this aren't what he's used to—the propriety, the care. larus had never been one for things like this, even if it had been impressed upon him at a young age. his sister had shined in these moments, but it's a thought he doesn't dwell on too long. ]
Several times. [ the answer is soft. ] There's no real law down there aside from the gangs and their territories. They don't really care for me, but it's not my fault they think I make an easy target.
[ there had been a handful of them he's killed for that reason, so it's not like it's particularly safe for him either. ]
Interested. I've seen how vampires handle themselves [very specifically, he's seen Toby rip metal doors off their hinges and a woman's head clean from her shoulders] so unless you're confronted by guards with any of those power nullification devices, I doubt you'd have trouble handling yourself.
But all the same, nobody looks forward to having to rip people limb from limb just to get groceries, mm?
[It sounds annoying and inconvenient. The gears are starting to turn in his head about ways to be of some help-- but at the same time, it's still a little early for that.]
Like I said, I didn't think you wanted a scene downstairs.
[ for that reason but also because he hadn't wanted to deal with the mess that would have come from that. and besides, they like to follow through on their punishments here. larus doesn't know how he feels about being put into a jail for however long. ]
Believe it or not, I'm used to this. The Dusk wasn't any better, and a few humans is nothing when it's vampires who normally want to tear my head off. [ his expression is surprisingly light for talk of death. ] It's messy, but no one seems to care down there.
It wouldn't have worked out well for either of us, but more likely specifically you. [The shrewd approach is appreciated.
He listens to Larus begin to, somewhat surprisingly, talk about his experiences from back home. Curious, he asks,]
Vampires attacking each other? [They're people, so Dorian's sure there could be any number of reasons for it, but where he's from they either seem to be pack creatures or too concerned with staying inconspicuous to risk fighting anywhere humans might notice.] Why?
[ he knows that, which is also why he hadn't immediately resorted to violence. larus isn't particularly violent when it counts. ]
Not each other. Me. [ there's a list of reasons why, but he prefers straight and to the point. ] They answered to the one who turned me. If he couldn't have me, then I was better off dead.
[ and there's so much feeling in those few words that larus has to swallow a bit sharply. if he looks away, it might give away too much; so, something should be said about the amount of trust he's placing in dorian with just those bits of information about himself as he looks at him. personal things that he's tried to bury or forget. he won't tell him what he remembers last from being at home, how sun had finally gotten his hands on him and tortured him slowly.
[It isn't so much the words but the turbulent and thick tone they're offered in that tugs at Dorian, and the immediate kind of personal involvement he feels with this vampire. It doesn't miss him that this amount of feeling coming from this man is significant, and very likely painful to offer. If it's accepted, he'll reach out and lay a warm hand on Larus' closest one, unwavering in his offer of directly supportive intimacy.
Dorian's familiar with the treacherous nature of what happens when relations sour between sires and their vampiric offspring. Sires choosing to kill rather than let people go seems to be a disturbing commonality between worlds.
In a small way, this feels like being faced with Toby's cathartic trauma over killing his sire all over again. But Toby, at least, was thirteen times Larus' age.]
[ this is what he should worry about. the kind of intimacy that seems to come to them so easily, eyes flicking to the weight of dorian's hand on his before moving away to stare at something else. the wallpaper, a shelf. he can hear the beat of dorian's heart just as easily as he breathes, and those words... they're so simple. there's also a sweetness to them that he doesn't know what to do with, his fingers curling beneath dorian's so he's not tempted to turn it over and grip his wrist. ]
I don't know. [ soft, under his breath. ] I already am.
[ and has been for years now. it's mostly a state of fact rather than something to simply say, though larus struggles with that as he tilts his head to look at dorian. if he'd really believed those things, he would have allowed sun to tear him apart long ago. but there's more to it than that, just as he thinks there might be more to this. ]
[This kind of thinking is what, in Dorian's experience, leads to becoming fixated on death and decay. To self-loathing that can be recovered from only by committing oneself to the sunrise dawning over an oceanfront. To losing connections to life and joy that might have once been accessible. It's different to every immortal, but there are echoes between the sentiment he's hearing and his own life, as well as those of people he's cared for.
There's an impulse to reach out, rather than let the situation slip between his fingers the way it has before. It's presumptive in some ways, but with his greatest loss from his home world still fresh in his mind, there's a sharply painful nostalgia in revisiting it like this as similar emotions reflect in another immortal.
If Larus doesn't object, Dorian's going to shift his hand to touch the side of the other man's neck, again unwavering in his intention and what he's offering. It's not meant to be a romantic touch, exactly-- but Dorian understands. He's beyond ordinary human experience. Sometimes considered a monster either by himself or the people around him. He's wavered several times between extremes of being unsure whether to consider himself alive or dead.]
You're still a person. [It's one thing that he believes genuinely. No vampire he's known has ever committed acts or been anything that makes them any different in his eyes to the many thousands of humans he's met with temperaments in infinite shades of gray. Writing someone off because they're undead is simple. Preemptive in a way that doesn't make sense to him.]
[ it's something he'd never expected to hear. not in this place, maybe not from dorian. larus doesn't know, isn't going to overthink it right now when his thoughts are elsewhere. whatever his own opinions are, they've never really focused too much on whether he's truly alive or dead. he just is, though his distaste for what he's become is only tantamount to the hatred he holds for the one who's turned him. his own feelings are complicated, more so now that he's spent time around others who see him as more than some thing with sharp teeth. he almost experiences it here, now, and it's always terrifying to expose himself this way, to allow someone to peel away the wall he's so carefully tucked the human parts of himself behind.
but larus doesn't fight the touch. as much as he protests many things, he's also starved for this kind of affection. casimir had ruined him for it, how easily he'd crawled back to him when he didn't want to think or feel all that anger or the exhaustion of dodging another permanent death by the hands of sun's flunkies. he turns into it, regarding dorian without really saying anything until he reaches out to rest his own hand on dorian's knee. ]
Is that what you see?
[ a gentle urging and reminder as to why he'd come, even if that conversation feels a bit old now that they're so close. ]
[Perhaps something like a beaten up flower thrown into a pool of standing blood. But that image doesn't really fit either, because there's a strong will and stubborn streak in the man sitting before him. There's softness too, but it's quieter and more buried. Dorian's not sure yet, but it's going to be something he marinates in after this evening.
He appreciates the beauty of Larus' emotional complexity, and the continual discovery that is slowly coming to know him more and more deeply.]
I think you're figuring things out, even as you're facing something impossible.
[ he isn't sure it's an answer he wants or an answer he'd been expecting. ]
You could say that about everyone here.
[ not that he's belittling dorian's response. it's honest, and he appreciates that. it's what he likes about him, he realizes. that he's direct and truthful with him, something that larus always gives regardless of the outcome of a situation. if someone doesn't like it, oh well. if they prefer it, even better. his grip on dorian's knee tightens for a moment before larus simply focuses on the warmth of the hand still pressed to his skin. ]
I could even say that about you, but I think you've figured out plenty already.
[ larus pulls his hand away then, needing the space for a moment as he tries to decide where to steer this conversation. there's already more he's shared with him than anyone else here, so it's not like it really matters that much if he continues. ]
What difference would a month or two make? [ if he even bothered to actually ask that is. ]
Well, we'd come to know one another better-- assuming one or both of us doesn't end up going home again. [And doesn't that just make this experience that much more ephemeral? He's not sure he likes that, now that he's connected with someone like this. His time here and the things that have been shared will mark him, as all such things and connections with people he's come to be involved with do.]
We'd come to find our places in the city, if they even exist. A lot can, and will, happen in that amount of time.
[ too much might happen in that amount of time, which is something larus finds himself frowning at—even if slightly. by far, he is not romantic at all; he leads with his head over his heart, which inevitably gets him into far more trouble. but he is soft, and there's this undeniable connection he has with dorian that's going to play whatever part it will in his life while he's in duplicity. ]
I guess that's why they say time will tell. [ a not so amusing thought really. ] I can't say I would be happy about returning home just now anyway.
[ only because his position there isn't a pleasant one, and to distract himself, he takes dorian's hand in his to remove it from its place at his neck and give it a squeeze. ]
Mm, neither would I. When it comes down to it, the more obvious differences between ordinary life where I'm from and this place aren't truly that far apart.
[He glances down at the chilly hand in his, rubbing a thumb thoughtfully over the smoothness of the top of Larus' skin. This is a comfortable kind of intimacy, and he's pleased to be falling into it with someone he can ...
trust? Interesting. Is that really what this is?]
The only degree of separation is that this place is more honest.
[ it's odd how much he wants this. how much he needs dorian's touch to weed out the thoughts that are often so loud and intrusive. larus stares at the way the other's thumb slides over his skin, the sweetness of the gesture not entirely lost on him. if he could be truthful with himself, he might believe this could be something. but it's much too soon for that, and it would end up being a distraction if he allowed it. ]
Some things are more honest. [ his voice is quiet. ] You've been honest.
[ as if that's surprising when they'd agreed to be as transparent as possible. larus' expression changes then, the slightest touch of a smile as he presses his thumb to the pulse of dorian's wrist and holds him there. ]
[He's been exactly as honest as he feels suits this friendship which, as he supposed it would be, seems to have been enough.
Dorian considers Larus and the sweetness of the man's (rare, small in this case) smile, before mirroring it back at the vampire.
It is, for a flicker of a moment, a terrible temptation, and one that he's well aware has been destructive in the past.]
I think part of that's your practicality starting to rub off on me, [he teases, deflecting subtly.] Don't tell; I have a reputation as an aimless hedonist to uphold.
[ deflection or not, larus doesn't mind. it takes his thoughts away from the urge to pull dorian's wrist to his mouth just to feel his skin against his lips. ]
I assumed as much when you said you liked being bitten. [ but that, too, is a tease. ] There's no point in lying. It only makes things difficult.
[ and very tedious to navigate. trying to remember what he'd said in addition to the things that come after wouldn't be very easy if he just lied about everything, and even if dorian doesn't offer the same truth, that's ultimately his own business. ]
[It's exactly that kind of unrelenting honesty that sounds like a burden to Dorian. They're very different men in this regard, but the immortal appreciates the earnestness-- in Larus. They haven't known each other long, but he can tell that this man is someone he can probably trust for the longer term in the city.]
So you haven't ever lied to bend a situation to your liking? [His turns to the vampire.] To make being around someone else more convenient?
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Plenty. I'm beginning to think it's going to be easy to meet quota in a place like this. Go to half the bars and clubs and that's all people are looking for. [The approach is a bit mercantile for his liking, but in a pinch it'll get the job done.] The ones out of their minds on drugs notwithstanding.
[Once the elevator takes them to the right floor and they reach the door to his suite, Dorian opens the front door and gestures inside.]
It's safe though, [generally speaking] which is more than can be said for the Down, I imagine.
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larus slips into dorian's apartment and decides to pull himself out of his jacket once inside. a note to stay longer than last time. ]
I suppose safe is better than not. [ as if he has anything to worry about. ] At least you don't have much to worry about being here.
[ in the up, he means. other than that, larus isn't too pleased about anything—especially his own situation. ]
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Come sit, [Dorian encourages warmly. After a moment, if Larus is amenable, he'll lead their way over to a plush couch in the middle of his artful, if still stark-looking for the immortal's tastes, sitting room.] You can leave your coat just there.
No. [For many reasons.] I've heard that violence is frequent in the Down and that it's unwise [a beat] for most people to go about alone. Have you run into anything like that?
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but at least dorian doesn't linger too much on the talk of quota, allowing himself to be led and sitting just on the edge of the couch he's guided to. things like this aren't what he's used to—the propriety, the care. larus had never been one for things like this, even if it had been impressed upon him at a young age. his sister had shined in these moments, but it's a thought he doesn't dwell on too long. ]
Several times. [ the answer is soft. ] There's no real law down there aside from the gangs and their territories. They don't really care for me, but it's not my fault they think I make an easy target.
[ there had been a handful of them he's killed for that reason, so it's not like it's particularly safe for him either. ]
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Any deaths?
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A few. Are you worried?
[ it's mostly meant as a joke, something of a tease to deflect attention. there's no point in being that worried; larus can take care of himself. ]
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But all the same, nobody looks forward to having to rip people limb from limb just to get groceries, mm?
[It sounds annoying and inconvenient. The gears are starting to turn in his head about ways to be of some help-- but at the same time, it's still a little early for that.]
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[ for that reason but also because he hadn't wanted to deal with the mess that would have come from that. and besides, they like to follow through on their punishments here. larus doesn't know how he feels about being put into a jail for however long. ]
Believe it or not, I'm used to this. The Dusk wasn't any better, and a few humans is nothing when it's vampires who normally want to tear my head off. [ his expression is surprisingly light for talk of death. ] It's messy, but no one seems to care down there.
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He listens to Larus begin to, somewhat surprisingly, talk about his experiences from back home. Curious, he asks,]
Vampires attacking each other? [They're people, so Dorian's sure there could be any number of reasons for it, but where he's from they either seem to be pack creatures or too concerned with staying inconspicuous to risk fighting anywhere humans might notice.] Why?
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Not each other. Me. [ there's a list of reasons why, but he prefers straight and to the point. ] They answered to the one who turned me. If he couldn't have me, then I was better off dead.
[ and there's so much feeling in those few words that larus has to swallow a bit sharply. if he looks away, it might give away too much; so, something should be said about the amount of trust he's placing in dorian with just those bits of information about himself as he looks at him. personal things that he's tried to bury or forget. he won't tell him what he remembers last from being at home, how sun had finally gotten his hands on him and tortured him slowly.
that's something no one needs to know. ]
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Dorian's familiar with the treacherous nature of what happens when relations sour between sires and their vampiric offspring. Sires choosing to kill rather than let people go seems to be a disturbing commonality between worlds.
In a small way, this feels like being faced with Toby's cathartic trauma over killing his sire all over again. But Toby, at least, was thirteen times Larus' age.]
You aren't.
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I don't know. [ soft, under his breath. ] I already am.
[ and has been for years now. it's mostly a state of fact rather than something to simply say, though larus struggles with that as he tilts his head to look at dorian. if he'd really believed those things, he would have allowed sun to tear him apart long ago. but there's more to it than that, just as he thinks there might be more to this. ]
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There's an impulse to reach out, rather than let the situation slip between his fingers the way it has before. It's presumptive in some ways, but with his greatest loss from his home world still fresh in his mind, there's a sharply painful nostalgia in revisiting it like this as similar emotions reflect in another immortal.
If Larus doesn't object, Dorian's going to shift his hand to touch the side of the other man's neck, again unwavering in his intention and what he's offering. It's not meant to be a romantic touch, exactly-- but Dorian understands. He's beyond ordinary human experience. Sometimes considered a monster either by himself or the people around him. He's wavered several times between extremes of being unsure whether to consider himself alive or dead.]
You're still a person. [It's one thing that he believes genuinely. No vampire he's known has ever committed acts or been anything that makes them any different in his eyes to the many thousands of humans he's met with temperaments in infinite shades of gray. Writing someone off because they're undead is simple. Preemptive in a way that doesn't make sense to him.]
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but larus doesn't fight the touch. as much as he protests many things, he's also starved for this kind of affection. casimir had ruined him for it, how easily he'd crawled back to him when he didn't want to think or feel all that anger or the exhaustion of dodging another permanent death by the hands of sun's flunkies. he turns into it, regarding dorian without really saying anything until he reaches out to rest his own hand on dorian's knee. ]
Is that what you see?
[ a gentle urging and reminder as to why he'd come, even if that conversation feels a bit old now that they're so close. ]
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[Perhaps something like a beaten up flower thrown into a pool of standing blood. But that image doesn't really fit either, because there's a strong will and stubborn streak in the man sitting before him. There's softness too, but it's quieter and more buried. Dorian's not sure yet, but it's going to be something he marinates in after this evening.
He appreciates the beauty of Larus' emotional complexity, and the continual discovery that is slowly coming to know him more and more deeply.]
I think you're figuring things out, even as you're facing something impossible.
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You could say that about everyone here.
[ not that he's belittling dorian's response. it's honest, and he appreciates that. it's what he likes about him, he realizes. that he's direct and truthful with him, something that larus always gives regardless of the outcome of a situation. if someone doesn't like it, oh well. if they prefer it, even better. his grip on dorian's knee tightens for a moment before larus simply focuses on the warmth of the hand still pressed to his skin. ]
I could even say that about you, but I think you've figured out plenty already.
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I appreciate the romantics, but I never said that I was one. If you're disappointed, ask me again in a month or two.
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[ larus pulls his hand away then, needing the space for a moment as he tries to decide where to steer this conversation. there's already more he's shared with him than anyone else here, so it's not like it really matters that much if he continues. ]
What difference would a month or two make? [ if he even bothered to actually ask that is. ]
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We'd come to find our places in the city, if they even exist. A lot can, and will, happen in that amount of time.
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I guess that's why they say time will tell. [ a not so amusing thought really. ] I can't say I would be happy about returning home just now anyway.
[ only because his position there isn't a pleasant one, and to distract himself, he takes dorian's hand in his to remove it from its place at his neck and give it a squeeze. ]
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[He glances down at the chilly hand in his, rubbing a thumb thoughtfully over the smoothness of the top of Larus' skin. This is a comfortable kind of intimacy, and he's pleased to be falling into it with someone he can ...
trust? Interesting. Is that really what this is?]
The only degree of separation is that this place is more honest.
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Some things are more honest. [ his voice is quiet. ] You've been honest.
[ as if that's surprising when they'd agreed to be as transparent as possible. larus' expression changes then, the slightest touch of a smile as he presses his thumb to the pulse of dorian's wrist and holds him there. ]
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Dorian considers Larus and the sweetness of the man's (rare, small in this case) smile, before mirroring it back at the vampire.
It is, for a flicker of a moment, a terrible temptation, and one that he's well aware has been destructive in the past.]
I think part of that's your practicality starting to rub off on me, [he teases, deflecting subtly.] Don't tell; I have a reputation as an aimless hedonist to uphold.
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I assumed as much when you said you liked being bitten. [ but that, too, is a tease. ] There's no point in lying. It only makes things difficult.
[ and very tedious to navigate. trying to remember what he'd said in addition to the things that come after wouldn't be very easy if he just lied about everything, and even if dorian doesn't offer the same truth, that's ultimately his own business. ]
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So you haven't ever lied to bend a situation to your liking? [His turns to the vampire.] To make being around someone else more convenient?
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notifs doing me dirty ):<
they just don't want them to kiss
too bad for them!!
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omg i'm so sorry
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interesting that theyโre hesitant about the exact opposite things
they're honestly ridiculous and i love them for it
800% ridiculous and itโs great
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