A day in the life of an ex-immortal.

[devils_bargain]

WHO: Dorian Gray and YOU
WHAT: A day in the life
WHERE: Around the barge.
WHEN: Beginning when Dorian wakes up and ventures out, and going on through the evening.
NOTES: Dorian is still pissed about the shower shitter. And also his impending kitchen job.

Multiple threads welcome. Everyone is invited. Dorian needs a distraction from yesterday.

Comments

One in the afternoon. Dining Hall.

[devils_bargain]

Two thirty. On deck, taking a walk.

[devils_bargain]

Re: Two thirty. On deck, taking a walk.

[tlazolpapalotl]

[Look who's standing at the railing watching the multiverse go by, resplendent in a short, tight, shiny blue dress, matching platform heels, and a big blonde beehive wig. Lord Fanny sees Dorian and waves in greeting.]

Afternoon, darling.

[devils_bargain]

After having gotten lunch, Dorian headed up to the deck. The last time he was there was shortly after he'd arrived. This time, as he moved towards the railing to look out, he was dimly aware of another person in his peripheral vision. He had been to preoccupied with his thoughts and the strange view to really see her. At least until she drew his attention by addressing him. Dorian looked up at her, shocked first by her height and then by the details. The insane hair, the strange tight dress, the tall shoes

sorry for the slow. busy/burned out. :|

[tlazolpapalotl]

Fanny extended a graceful hand in greeting. "Charmed, Dorian. Call me Lord Fanny." She smiled pleasantly at the pretty young man. "When and where are you from, then?"

Four fifteen. The library.

[devils_bargain]

Four fifteen-ish. The library.

[thedetailsman]

Today was the day that Rusty would finally go to the library. He's not illiterate, just busy. Today he's not busy. His inmate is off making connections, Rusty's connections are probably off doing the same.

So Rusty slips in to his favorite Zegna suit (double breasted, charcoal gray - you know the kind) and explores. The library is as vast as he expected it to be, and after wandering through it aimlessly, he finds a chair and relaxes into it, crowded by the cushions. He nods to a fellow disciple of the written word (fellow disciple? Rusty's not even holding a book.), smiling slightly.

Four fifteen-ish. The library.

[devils_bargain]

Dorian has found a book and taken it to an oppressively pillowed seat to read. He has picked up a book seemingly at random and is working his way through it at a surprising pace, when he sees a well dressed man come and take up the seat opposite him. This man does not have a book.

Dorian glances around the room, wondering for a moment if he is waiting to meet someone, and finding they are alone, returns his attention to the man.

"A fine afternoon for reading," Dorian says, fishing both for an introduction and to glean information as to why this man is not reading in the library.

Four fifteen-ish. The library.

[thedetailsman]

The decadence of a period is reflected in the man's voice, though that vibe might be accredited to the atmosphere. The atmosphere. Rusty's never really been architecturally inclined (blue prints are for finding loop-holes, not for admiring), he appreciates the feeling of a library, any library.

"Mhm," Rusty hums his agreement, "Rusty Ryan. . .It's a pleasure."

Five thirty. Level 3: hallway near men's inmate showers. Shit watch and investigation/inquiries.

[devils_bargain]

[devils_bargain]

Dorian is lurking. He has not dared to go in again since yesterday, but he came back to see if there was some way to discern whether the problem has been resolved. So far, he has been unsuccessful in discovering this. He does not care for vengeance or justice. These two things have never been a passion of his, as they may have been for other men. No, Dorian simply wants to know whether it is safe to have another go at a shower. This horrible public shower is still his only option. So, he is lurking, a sour expression on his face, when he sees a man approach the shower with towel and soap in hand.

Being called comrade baffles him, and for a moment his expression is puzzled, and then it changes to one of indignant earnest.

"I was waiting for someone," he says, apparently unaware that waiting for someone at the showers seems strange at best.

Dorian is simply waiting to hear if this man goes in and cries out at the sight of the sullied stall, using him as if he were a canary going into a mine.