Karl decided to head to the library to take his mind off everything else that was going on. He was trying to put escape attempts out of his head. It was impossible and dangerous and he was trying to accept this. His arm was bandaged, thanks to his horse ride. He should never have gone again, alone, looking for an escape. It was his own fault the unicorn bit his arm. It had been quite deep too. He fancied some quiet time with a book. Once inside, he found a book, but realised he'd forgotten his cigarettes. He could smell smoke. He followed the smell and saw a man curled up with a book and cigarettes. "Hey, i'm Karl," he said, "Don't suppose I could bum a cigarette?" he asked, holding out a bandaged arm.
Dorian glanced up when Karl came in, so he should not have been startled when he spoke. But he was anyway. People passed in and out of the library often without a word. He arched an eyebrow at the casual introduction but offered the man a cigarette, the silver case splayed like a butterfly over his narrow, upturned palm.
"Help yourself...Karl." He said, with a facsimile of a smile so practiced it was effortless.
"Thanks," Karl accepted a cigarette and lit up, inhaling deeply. "It...uh...hasn't been a very good day," he admitted, indicating his bandaged arm. He'd needed stitches, he was light headed from the blood he'd lost, and, like Dorian, he wanted somewhere quiet to sit.
"Clearly." Dorian said, following his gesture to his arm as he set the open case back down on the end table by the sofa. He glanced to one of the chairs nearest the sofa. He did not openly invite Karl to sit with him but he did not refuse him either. He knew the library was a good refuge for the prisoners of the castle. And he was more than a little lonely, being a creature who thrived on attention.
Karl selected his book quickly and sat down near the sofa. He figured it was polite, considering the man had given him a cigarette. It wasn't that he wanted to read, particularly, but he knew that when Viggo, his partner, returned to their house, he'd have something to say about Karl going out alone to search for an escape. They'd spoken about it before. He glanced at the other man for a moment and decided to let him speak first. He wasn't sure if this man would welcome conversation.
"Have you been at the castle long?" Dorian asked, in a tone that was pleasant but bore the distinct feeling of one who has been taught-- and extensively practiced-- small talk and the art of polite conversation. But he was slightly curious. He had never seen the man before, and he was in the business of knowing all the inmates of this wretched place.
"Nearly two months," Karl admitted, "You probably won't have seen me. It's taken nearly all of that time to accept I'm stuck here," he sighed, "Up until now, I've made a point of spending my time either with Viggo, my partner, or alone, searching for an escape." He glanced at his wounded arm. "I think this has helped me accept my situation." He looked at Dorian. "How long have you been here?"
Viggo. The name was not familiar, Dorian disregarded it.
"There is no escape." He said. "Death brings no escape." He said, thinking of Basil, and looking at Karl's injury.
"I have been here...ah well...it is hard to say. Time is...wrong here." He said. "But I imagine it is a year. Or something like a year. A very long time."
Karl cocked an eyebrow at his comment about death, but he knew he was right. He'd been told that there was no escape through death, you just came back three days later. "If that's true, I wonder where Viggo went?" Karl wondered aloud. "Surely one doesn't just disappear? I wonder did I imagine him?"
"Viggo? Ah yes, your colleague." Dorian said, taking a drag of his cigarette, flicking the ash onto the carpet. "He likely did disappear. We lost most everyone in the last two months, after the earthquake." He said, letting the slim white stick dangle from his elegant fingers. "People do just vanish into thin air. After a while, you get used to it. You just stop being near people."
"What is?" Dorian asked, blowing a bluish smoke ring at the ceiling, with a hateful expression. "That people disappear?" He shrugged. "I suppose. Providing they are not going somewhere horrible. Though I can imagine little else but hell itself that would be worse than this place. Despite its accommodations." He sneered, but then offered his bottle of gin to Karl.
"Whoever is running this...." he trailed off, "I could kill them. It's twisted." He accepted the bottle of gin and took a long gulp. "God, I love Viggo. Why him?"
"You're not the only one." The youth snorted. He watched Karl take a swig of his gin. He made a note to get more.
Unlike most, he was not making the leap between Karl's endearments and his relationship with this mysterious and lost Viggo. After all, Dorian was from a time where everyone was presumed heterosexual. Even Dorian-- bisexual himself-- did not make assumptions of the trait in others.
"Just be glad your friend is not here." He said. He was not much good at offering comfort.
"I guess," Karl said, trailing off. He handed back the bottle. He hadn't meant to take so much, but he was angry, confused and upset. "Best to assume he's free, probably"
His arm was bandaged, thanks to his horse ride. He should never have gone again, alone, looking for an escape. It was his own fault the unicorn bit his arm. It had been quite deep too.
He fancied some quiet time with a book. Once inside, he found a book, but realised he'd forgotten his cigarettes. He could smell smoke. He followed the smell and saw a man curled up with a book and cigarettes.
"Hey, i'm Karl," he said, "Don't suppose I could bum a cigarette?" he asked, holding out a bandaged arm.
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"Help yourself...Karl." He said, with a facsimile of a smile so practiced it was effortless.
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It wasn't that he wanted to read, particularly, but he knew that when Viggo, his partner, returned to their house, he'd have something to say about Karl going out alone to search for an escape. They'd spoken about it before.
He glanced at the other man for a moment and decided to let him speak first. He wasn't sure if this man would welcome conversation.
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He glanced at his wounded arm. "I think this has helped me accept my situation."
He looked at Dorian. "How long have you been here?"
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"There is no escape." He said. "Death brings no escape." He said, thinking of Basil, and looking at Karl's injury.
"I have been here...ah well...it is hard to say. Time is...wrong here." He said. "But I imagine it is a year. Or something like a year. A very long time."
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"If that's true, I wonder where Viggo went?" Karl wondered aloud. "Surely one doesn't just disappear? I wonder did I imagine him?"
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He accepted the bottle of gin and took a long gulp.
"God, I love Viggo. Why him?"
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Unlike most, he was not making the leap between Karl's endearments and his relationship with this mysterious and lost Viggo. After all, Dorian was from a time where everyone was presumed heterosexual. Even Dorian-- bisexual himself-- did not make assumptions of the trait in others.
"Just be glad your friend is not here." He said. He was not much good at offering comfort.
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"Best to assume he's free, probably"
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