So much for avoidance.

[devils_bargain]

Who: Dorian Gray, Armand St. Just.
Where: Floor 7, Room 1.
When: Morning after the truth flood ends... sort of. It's around 7 pm.
What: An inmate meets his warden for the first time.

Comments

[young_idealist]

Armand was punctual. He was neatly dressed in an attempt to show some respect, and carrying Dorian's file. As he walked, he tried to think of a way to impress upon Mister Gray that he was an authority that had to be considered, and that there were rules here. It wasn't that hard to get along here if one simply understood that.

He stood in front of the door a moment before he could make himself knock. When he did, he rapped firmly three times, then waited.

[devils_bargain]

Dorian laid his cigarette on the ash tray and went to open the door shortly after Armand knocked. He did not rush to the door, but the wait was not impolite.

Dorian looked at the man standing in the hallway. He was unsure at first what to make of him. Their correspondence had not been pleasant, but nothing about him immediately jumped out as particularly unpleasant.

Except for the set of his mouth. He seemed the sort of man who had far too much to say that others did not want to hear whatsoever.

"I trust you are Armand," Dorian said, the very picture of politeness, "Do come in."

[young_idealist]

Armand nodded, taking the moment to look around the room. Although he usually didn't see bedrooms, what he saw was not so different from the English aristocracy he'd encountered. He wasn't entirely sure from the file whether Dorian Gray considered himself as such, but he certainly had connections and money. In life.

"And you must be Dorian, if we're to be so informal. I don't mean to take up much of your time, but that depends upon you." And if it wasn't obvious from their only brief audio exchange, Armand is unashamedly French. His English is impeccable, even without Barge magic, for he lived in England several years, but he still has an accent.

And he held the file in front of his chest, like a shield. He knew already that Dorian didn't like him. He hated being so nervous, but even if his voice was calm, the nerves were there in his mannerisms. "May I sit? Then we can discuss your situation on board here."

[devils_bargain]

Dorian stepped aside to let the other man come inside. Armand appeared nervous, all stiff limbs and the papers awkwardly held against his chest. Dorian was not so much nervous, himself, as he was annoyed at the other man's insistence to meet. Yes, surely, they would have to at least meet once, wouldn't they? But Armand needn't have been rude about it.

"It depends upon what, exactly?" Dorian asked as he shut the door behind him, and gestured to the low, comfortable divan and nearby wing chairs. "Please, do."