maskormenacelogs | Episodes and parallels

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Episodes and parallels

WHO: The Shade and Dorian Gray
WHERE: Heropa, and then onward to the bar
WHEN: 07/06, late evening
WHAT: Oscar Wilde Appreciation Club
WARNINGS: None for now!

[ Residence number two was hardly difficult to find, considering Shade was in residence four, right next door fom a Mr. Dorian Gray. It was ironic, considering in his world, Oscar's inspiration had been Merritt, a killer Shade had allowed his hand to tip -- help Matt O'Dare and Jack Knight defeat the killer, and release the souls, the pictures he'd captured to preserve his immortality, into Opal. It would be interesting, to see if in this man's world, it wasn't quite so much pretense, or quite as much allegory.

Charles had been similar to Oscar, in that way, heavy on the implication, to keep others from reading the real truth from their words, or rather the inspiration from them.

Shade moved, took a walk, even, to the other man's residence, knocking on the door to introduce himself. He had a suspicion that his lack of boundaries would likely not be so welcome as they were with Jack -- but Jack was fun to pop in and say hi unannounced to, others, not so much. And even then, it was really his position of power that kept Jack in line. His knowledge that he could save Opal, not so much here -- and Shade wished to see who this man was, that called himself Dorian Gray.

Figure him out, and his version of Oscar out, of course.

He waited, after knocking, leaning on the eagle-headed cane, dressed in his usual attire -- a black suit, white shirt, vest, ascot, and even his spatterdashers were pristine and white, hat on his head rounded the entire ensemble off. He looked the picture of a man out of time. ]

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[ Dorian had been brought in wearing a suit. He decided to change that almost instantly. Wearing a tight pair of pants and a button up oxford, Dorian looks almost identical to the average joe on the street. Normally, he would be wearing something a little more high-end...but having just arrived, his bank account wasn't exactly the sort of levels he wanted it to be at.

Dorian Gray was going to have to get used to being poor.

He had been waiting in the entry way, adjusting his collar in a mirror. He wasn't anxious to see who this mysterious man who apparently knew Oscar Wilde was. Oscar was a busy man, who knew a fair amount of people. But the idea of Oscar befriending two immortals? It was either a coincidence or the universe playing a little game on them.

As Shade knocked on the door, Dorian paused for a moment, readjusting his collar, trying not to seem too eager and interested as he opened it up. Almost instantly he noticed the man's attire--how could he not? A small pang of jealousy struck the man as Shade looked so good while Dorian simply looked...well, average. Still, this only served to further cement the idea in his mind. Somebody needed to know he was Dorian Gray proper. He had a few too many close calls, almost dying multiple times as people harmed his portrait. The idea of being in a place full of superheroes (never mind untrained superheroes) only managed to make him worry more.

Besides, the man was interesting. And Dorian wanted to see if he actually believed his story. ]

You must be Oscar's friend, [ said with a little smirk, as if they were talking about a college buddy instead of Oscar Wilde himself. ] Oscar's friend who, if I'm right and I am, didn't tell me his name.

Indeed I did not.

[ He greeted, his voice touched with an old humor, the kind of sound that came from a person who wasn't at all bothered by the implication, and who simply came out to have a rather good time, no matter what it was he was doing. Shade was, at the end of the day, forever the sort who was all about enjoying, and observing, while he went about his life.

His very, very long life. He wondered, of course, if this Dorian was as he was, or as Merritt was. If he was an immortal, or if he was merely a part of what Oscar had been looking for. He'd always been favorable toward implication, and allegory, to make the work sing with intent, even if it wasn't always quite so overt.

That's what Shade enjoyed about him. It's what he'd loved about Charles as well, if he were honest. Dickens, of course, had written about him instead of Merritt, he couldn't do anything but feel a bit fond of the old author, his dear friend who'd been there, when Shade became something altogether unique, and different.

He looked Gray down, and then back up. Curious. He certainly looked a touch as he'd suspect, but... Well, he hadn't expected him to be so poorly dressed.

Then again, arriving in Heropa would do that to any man. He smiled, pleasantly. ]

I go by the Shade, Mr. Gray. Occasionally, however, some call me Mr. Black. It may be fitting, if I give you that name.

The Shade it is, [ Dorian remarked, with a grin. ] And in that case Shade, you'll have to give me the name of your tailor. You look sublime. [ He sighed, rather melodramatic. ] That's the problem when all your clothes are apparently in a different world: you have to spend all that time trying to find a proper tailor all over again.

[ At least for Dorian, he had to address the unfasionable elephant in the room. It wasn't an excuse, per se, but an explanation. He knew he would get back on the horse sooner or later...just not right now, when he had the measly pittance from his guidance counselor salary--a job which he kept going to, only because it amused him so much. ]

So. Shall we go?

Indeed, and I would be happy to. I understand the trouble quite well -- [ he almost sighed, stepping out of the way for the door, to allow him to step out, so they could be on their way. ] Particularly when you are used to a certain...standard of living.

[ Shade was an immortal too, he understood. He knew what it was like to have everything, and then show up in a place with nothing, and he hardly liked it any better than Dorian did. He was fortunate, of course, that he had no need to eat or sleep -- although he did enough eating to make up for the lack of a need. ]

Just hold on, and we'll be there promptly.

[ he held out an arm, like it was the most normal thing in the world. ]

Edited 2014-07-13 03:08 (UTC)

[ A certain standard of living. This was getting better and better. The more he talked with this man, the more he liked him. A roguish smile planted itself on Dorian's face.

Taking Shade's arm like it was utterly natural, Dorian nodded at the man. ]

Lay on, Macduff.

Please hold on tight, I would hate for you to be lost.

[ He stepped forward, and the shadows were long, on the walkway. Like they stretched too far, like they gravitated toward the Shade. The next step they walked into the shadows, and the next they traversed them, and then the next --

Well, the next was out of the shadows, and into the world. A short trip, all things considered. Flakes of shadows seemed to drift in the air, like fabric, and then last step pulled them out of the shadows entirely, and he lifted his cane, to indicate the title of the bar. "The Devil's Nest", of course. Greed had always been kind enough to carry his favorite absinthe. ]

And here we are.

[ The shadows still gravitated toward Shade, but they were flaking off, and the shadows peeled off, and drifted in the air, before they were free of them entirely. ]

[ Dorian watched, eyes widening as he looked at the shadows, growing around them, gravitating towards them. He had lived over a hundred years and this was so interesting. The fact that it was something he hadn't seen before was enough to put a look of childish amazement on his face, as he watched the shadows flitting around them.

And almost instantly, it was over. Look of amazement turning to a small smile, Dorian nonchalantly flicked a shadow away from his face--and when he saw the name of the bar, he couldn't help but grin. ]

It seems like this is the only bar worth a damn--you're the second person who's recommended it to me.

[ The first? Violet. ]

As you can probably guess, my hopes are fairly high at the moment.

Am I? Then hopefully it won't be terribly disappointing. It's certainly not to my usual aesthetic, however...

[ Shade flashed a cane at the door, before he took off. When he walked, the motion was lazy, slow like he had all the time in the world, but he still moved, fast enough that his pace shouldn't exactly fit the speed. Walking too slow, but moving fast enough to keep moving faster than intended.

But he did like to saunter. ]

It's enjoyable. The patrons -- and the owner -- are a delightful mix. And he keeps my drink on hand. That's difficult to find these days.

I have a feeling most things here aren't up to our usual aesthetics, [ he remarked, as he walked after Shade. Our usual aesthetics. He was already counting the Shade as an immortal partner in crime, someone to talk with and find more information about, to relive the glory days and plow through the future to come.

Yes, Dorian Gray was that desperately lonely. ]

It's terribly difficult finding any sort of bar that keeps your drink on hand, especially so if your drink isn't one of the varying types of cheep beers and bad spirits.

[ Up to our aesthetics, of course. Shade only smiled, in response, at first, before he opened the door, and while the Devil's Nest was lively, it wasn't exactly going to burst every window with the noise, either.

Private enough to speak, but loud enough to not be overheard.

Just as the Shade liked it. ]

Precisely that. And I do suspect you like to drink something interesting, don't you?

[ It was his way of offering to buy him a drink. ]

I've drunk a lot of interesting things, [ Dorian admitted, with a small sheepish laugh. One of the perks of being an immortal, he supposed. But as for drinking interesting things, Dorian pursed his lips in thought. ]

I doubt this place has a good vintage anything, [ he remarked, as he looked around the building. It certainly didn't look like the type to haveIt wasn't empty, but it wasn't crowded. If this conversation did turn sour, at least there were other people to entertain him for the evening. ] You mentioned absinthe, though--I think I'll have that.

[ If only because he hadn't had that drink in so long. While he drank fairly regularly as part of his social life back home, it was with other young men and women, wanting to get drunk and forget all about their monotonous dull lives. Not the sort of people who would appreciate a good absinthe. ]

Absinthe it is, then. I'm quite partial to it myself, but why don't you take a seat, I'll get the drink. [ He gestured, to a small, quieter seat in the corner, but it still offered plenty of opportunity for people watching.

Shade really did favor things as most immortals did. He slinked off to the bar, and gestured, the bartender was obviously familiar with Shade, and after procuring the bottle, glasses, and the rest of the paraphernalia onto a tray, Shade was over in place, seemingly in one place, and then back the next.

Overuse of power had never occurred to him. ]

Ah, here we go. An old classic, and thank you to this world's traditions, to keep the drink flowing. Other worlds have not been quite so kind.

[ Walking over towards the corner, Dorian sat down at the table, watching Shade as he popped from the bar back to the table. Honestly, he couldn't blame the man. If he had a power like that, he'd abuse it all the time as well. ]

Other times have not been so kind as well. I'm particularly fond of this culture of excess.

Ah yes, as am I.

[ Shade was really a fan of most cultures. Genuine in how he enjoyed it, thoroughly. Not just the excess, but the energy, the liveliness, everything that came with living. An old, classic soul that wanted nothing more than to revel in everything that came with the future.

Shade enjoyed living.

He handed Dorian a glass, and started assembling his own drink. The beauty of absinthe, he thought, was that there was a ritual. ]

There's a certain energy that earlier ages hadn't quite...managed.

[ Dorian started to assemble his as well, hands moving carefully as all the steps to properly assemble the drink fly back in his mind, like remembering an old poem you had forgotten you knew. ]

I'd argue that the earlier ages had their energy. However, they tended to focus it all on one thing. The so-called age of colonization focused mostly on that. The World Wars? All the energy was focused on the war front. [ He chuckled slightly, shaking his head. ] At the expense of anything fun, of course. If I had known how boring Britain during the blitz would have been, I'd have signed up to fight.

[ It briefly occurred to Dorian that this was the first time he had practically blatantly stated his immortality. However, based on that small nostalgic smile as his mind drifted back to the World Wars, he was perfectly fine with that. ]

[ He laughed, softly, while the liquid filtered down into the glass, turning neon green into something milkier. ]

It was hardly better in the fight. I had a bit of a...poor idea during that period. I ended up with a bomb landing on me.

It's about as deeply unpleasant as you can imagine.

[ He shook his head, and watched the drink settle. ] Personally, I've found London to be exhausting, but perhaps the blitz had been a worse idea.

You too? [ he can't help but ask, letting out a grin. Immortal men who knew Oscar Wilde and had bombs literally land on them. These two had more in common than Dorian was willing to admit.

He moved his hands from the drink to the table, resting his chin on top of one. ]

I suppose it takes all types. I find myself drawn back to London, no matter where I travel.

Do you?

[ The Shade avoided London, but he'd found something better, in America. It wasn't inherently American, but a mixture, old world and new, in one mesh that seemed to hum and thrive with energy and Shade loved his city. ]

I've found little reason to return, but perhaps that is only because I found somewhere more dear to my heart.

[ That, and well, London held bad memories. That was where he'd become what he was, after all. ]

I think, however, there is a part of it that will always be with me well enough. She hardly needs me there as well.

[ Somewhere dear to his heart. This had to be that Opal place they were talking about earlier. The more the Shade mentioned it, the more it interested Dorian. It must be certainly special if it were to capture his attention like that. ]

I wouldn't argue that either of our respective cities need us. More along the lines of tolerate, perhaps?

[ He's totally teasing. ]

Yes, perhaps that's the case.

[ He laughed, lowly. ] I believe London would see me as the child twice removed at this point. She and I never quite worked.

[ But he was still very obviously an englishman. Just an expatriate, who brought what he wanted across the ocean, and left the rest on London behind. He brought the best of it over, as far as he was concerned. ]

But I believe that may be because people like you and I become fixtures. Of course we would be tolerated. A city wouldn't be quite herself, without their regulars.

Most places wouldn't be themselves without their regulars, [ he remarked, with a small little smirk. ] We build character, give a place it's identity and it's soul.

[ A bit too grandiose of a statement, but Dorian wasn't going to back down from it. ]

Indeed we do. [ Grandiose it may be, but the Shade had to agree. Immortals had such high opinions of themselves. ]

I assume, however, that you didn't come to talk about how we have a single thing in common, did you? Not that I'm...displeased to find another similar, but...

[ He lifted a shoulder, and drank at the hazy green liquid. ] Most immortals don't often invite me out. Something about me being a bit too nosy for their tastes.

[ Dorian couldn't help but grin at that. Nosy. Oh, he liked that. And really, truth be told, he asked Shade out because he found the man interesting, wanted to know more about him, and would keep going at full steam until he got what he wanted.

After all, Dorian Gray wasn't used to rejection. But one bit of phrasing struck him as odd. ] 'Most' immortals? How interesting. Aside from you, I've only met one other.

[ Who's now dead. Yaaaaay. :/ ] But I asked you out mostly to learn more about you. Like I said, at least in my world, immortals are a rare breed. Besides, [ and here he grins ] if Oscar liked you, you had to be entertaining.

[ He laughed, softly. ] I should think I am, and Oscar was always...

Well, he had a very particular interest, didn't he? Precise. He never spent time with someone below his standards, if he could help it.

[ But still. To be immortal, and be Dorian Gray, and to not know any other immortals was interesting.

But what was more interesting, was that he knew Oscar, and obviously Oscar would have written a book about him, instead of the metaphor of Merritt. ]

You don't happen to know a Damon Merritt, do you?

[ He asked, out of the blue. ]

I don't, [ Dorian remarked, with a frown. He liked to think that he knew a lot of people--most importantly, he liked to think that he knew all the important people. The fact that he didn't know Damon really annoyed him. ]

But you're right. He was always so picky, for lack of a better term.

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