No more than I ought to have. [Not entirely true, but he does have his image of sprezzatura to uphold. Flashing a smile at Adrian, Dorian pours them two glasses of a nice Port, before moving to join the other man on the couch. He situates himself comfortably near the Dhampir, one leg pressing up against the Dhampir's knee.]
But I did have to consider how you might want to be seen. [It's one thing to be dressed beautifully and in a way others find appealing, but the true Art of fashion as he sees it is in the revelation of personality through style.]
That part's going to take some improvisation and help from you. [He keeps his tone playful. There may be some element of seriousness in creation, but in the end he's hoping this will mostly amount to the entertaining seduction of a man he relates to. On that note, Dorian toasts the other man briefly with a clink of his glass against Adrian's before taking a sip of his Port. A moment is given over to savoring the taste. It's delicious.] When you dress, do you do it for yourself, or to affect other people? Or is there some other inspiration?
[ Leaning into a more comfortable side straddle of the couch, Adrian smiled as he felt Dorian's leg press against his own. These little touches were a delight to endure, each time Dorian came close, each time a part of him grazed a part of Adrian, it left him with a fleeting feeling of an excited sort of anxious. Taking the glass of port, inhaling the aroma before tasting a generous mouthful with a pleased-sounding hum. ]
How do I wish to be seen, Dorian?
[Inclining his head aside as he considered the possibilities of such a sentence. How did he wish to be seen? It was a deeper sentiment than first imagined. He wanted to be seen in a different light by different people. To the masses, he wished to be seen as the opposite of his father. To his friends, he wanted to be seen as trustworthy and honest. To those he adored and admired he wanted to be seen as beautiful and alluring and to the one he loved, he wished to be seen as equal. However, something tells him that's not the answer Dorian was looking for. Or is it? ]
Hmm, well...
[ Taking another drink of his port as he's toasted, tucking an unruly strand of platinum blonde hair behind a pale pointed ear. Crossing one leg over the other, his foot gently bouncing against Dorian's leg from the switch of position. ]
I feel I am unable to speak and untruth in your presence, Dorian, so I won't. When I dress, yes, I want to be seen. I want to radiate light, to draw people in like a beacon. I've spent such a long time being alone you see.
[A half-vampire who wants to radiate light? He's never met a dhampir before to have a point of comparison, but it does surprise Dorian somewhat to hear that. Nothing over the span of their friendship has told him whether Adrian relates more to the vampiric side of himself than his human side, but with this admission? He's beginning to think it could be the latter.
It feels almost ...innocent? Is that a word that can be applied to a being sired, in part, by a creature of the night? He doesn't know, but it's appealing, and he's intrigued.
The smile he offers Adrian when he confesses to having been alone is softer, and more sympathetic. Placing down his glass, Dorian lays a light touch over the other man's nearest hand in a small offer of warmth.]
Was that before you arrived in Duplicity? Tell me about it, [he encourages gently.]
[ It's a silly notion really, isn't it? Adrian knows how dreamy and ridiculous it must make him seem, but it is most definitely the truth. He wants to be the complete opposite of his father and there is no love loss for his kin. Should Dorian ask, Adrian would openly tell him of the struggles he has, feeling neither closer to being either human or Vampire. He feels like something entirely apart from both species, even if he longs to be mortal like his departed mother.
Dorian is right to feel that way about Adrian, as wrong as it feels, as in theory nothing sired by the dead of night could be called innocent, and yet innocent is exactly what Adrian is. Sheltered, privileged, and ignorant in his youth, even going as far as to have never laid with anyone before he arrived here. No, Adrian was innocent, to more of the world than he would care to admit.
The lightest of gasps left his lips as Dorian replaced his wine glass in favor of setting his hand upon the Dhampir's. Considering the question for a long moment, simply looked into Dorian's eyes, as if he were searching them for something to make the answer hurt any less. ]
Yes and no. At first, I didn't wish to be seen at all. Instead, I had a private crypt made, one that I intended on locking myself up in forever. Only, forever seemed like an awfully long time all things considered. So... I left clues, tales, and fables for anyone interested to take as the word of God. If I was going to have company again, I wanted it to be with someone who needed me, Dorian... I wanted to be wanted.
[ Pausing for a moment, setting his own glass down and placing his now empty hand atop of the one Dorian had on his, leaning in with a tilt of his head, golden threads of hair cascading down past his shoulder and chest. ]
Since I've been here, I confess, there's only one person I truly wanted to see me, to shine for them, and yet... Ah, I'm sorry, I feel embarrassed in saying this.
[ Blushing, Adrian turned his head away in the coyest of mannerisms. ]
[Fables and and stories, indeed. In a bid to escape loneliness, he'd locked himself away like a prince in a tower in the hope the right person, the right people, would come along and be saviors to bring a true and reliable end to solitude. The desire to be wanted is not something he, always wanted and desired wherever he went as a truly young man, can relate to, but it's ...
sincere. So utterly lacking in cynicism.
Catnip, in a word.
He could hurt this man, Dorian realizes keenly, the same way he's done men and women like Simon, Sybil, James, and all those others who ever looked at him with eyes like the ones fixed on him now. Eyes with unclouded gazes that tell of someone entrusting tender parts of themselves to him, all without knowing how many like them he's crushed once the initial infatuation faded and he withdrew his affection.
Just as keenly, he recognizes that he doesn't want to become that here. It has to be Toby's influence, he knows, and how much of an oasis of essentially uninterrupted happiness and fulfillment Duplicity has been with the vampire. But not to crush something sweet simply because he can, because his nature is poisoned through with sin and terrors, is a choice he can freely make. He can be anything he wants in this place, and would it not be better to preserve the artistry of the existence of a half-man, half-vampire who wanted to transcend the inherent distance of being something other to be truly wanted?
It would be pleasantly flattering to his ego if he lets Adrian finish, and the man tells him that he's the one he'd like to shine for with all of that ethereal, impossible grace. There's no way to know he's the one being spoken about beyond his suspicions of the man's flushing, but if he's trying to be good, as much as he ever can be and only for now, and as much as he knows such a vain attempt will never last for long, he knows he shouldn't let the man finish. Better to keep the mystery and the potential at arm's length.]
Then we'll take a picture of you when we're done so you can ensure they see you the way you've wanted them to. [With his free hand, he reaches up to tuck a few glistening strands of gold from the other man's face, and then, unable to help himself, skates the pads of his fingers appreciatively over Adrian's cheek.
Simply exquisite.]
I'd say that's a good note to start on. I didn't think we'd end up with a goal, but that adds something more, doesn't it? [He smiles, and squeezes the hand beneath his own, before rising to his feet to give the other man a tug toward the master bedroom.]
Come with me, darling. Bring the port if you want. [Although warmly-toned, it's not really a suggestion.]
[ It worked out for the Dhampir, for a little while at least. The legends and tales the Speakers shared eventually brought to him the two people he would come to adore most in the world. Only... Even that didn't last did it? Before Adrian was spirited away to this place, one of the last memories he has, is of his Scholer and Hunter leaving together, without him.
Stories and fables don't always reach the people they're meant to either. Reminiscing how two more followed in the wake of Belnadaes and Belmont. Two opportunistic Vampire hunters who manipulated and used the fact Adrian wanted to be wanted against him- But, he'd rather not think of that now, far too unpleasant an experience and he doesn't want to sour his mood.
There's no doubt in Adrian's mind that Dorian could destroy him. The man was perfect in every single way the Dhampir could see, and he knew himself that pretty things, perfect things had a way of getting under your skin. Still, he wanted to let Dorian under his skin, wanted to feel him stick in there like the thorn of a rose.
As for who he was referring to, he'd keep it to himself then. If Dorian didn't think it was him, then that was alright, he would feel far too anxious if he called him out on it right there and then. After all, it's nothing more than a little crush. ]
A picture? Yes, I'd like that. You could keep a copy for yourself, call it a thank you on my behalf.
[ Subtle? Hopefully, it was subtle enough.
Letting Dorian drag him along, happy to put himself in the other man's hands, smiling as he followed him to the bedroom. That port remained with him, taking a large mouthful of it as his nervousness got the better of him. He was nervous about what he'd find in that room, nervous that he wouldn't look are beautiful as Dorian has imagined. ]
[Dorian leads Adrian into the room by a hand, stopping them as they find the typically plush Tower master bedroom arranged over with garments of varying fabrics, colors, and levels of extravagance. Most of what's been pulled out is in shades of white and black, but a few pink and red pieces dot the area, too. Most everything is more feminine in texture and shape, including a few pretty corsets in differing lengths and styles, but he's included a few more masculine items as well: pants in dark shades, jackets with brocades embroidered into them. It's a smorgasbord of eclectic tastes, with some options verging on the gaudier and more Liberraci end of glamorous. When they stop, Dorian brings the dhampir's hand to his lips to press a kiss to the back of it, holding the man with his gaze.]
I'd be delighted to keep one. [Genuinely. The idea having a photo is oddly nostalgic - he remembers keenly when he found out that Harry had kept multiple sketches of him, too. Another parallel.]
So. [He releases Adrian, and gestures to the roof around them.] Anything catch your eye?
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no subject
But I did have to consider how you might want to be seen. [It's one thing to be dressed beautifully and in a way others find appealing, but the true Art of fashion as he sees it is in the revelation of personality through style.]
That part's going to take some improvisation and help from you. [He keeps his tone playful. There may be some element of seriousness in creation, but in the end he's hoping this will mostly amount to the entertaining seduction of a man he relates to. On that note, Dorian toasts the other man briefly with a clink of his glass against Adrian's before taking a sip of his Port. A moment is given over to savoring the taste. It's delicious.] When you dress, do you do it for yourself, or to affect other people? Or is there some other inspiration?
[He's genuinely curious.]
no subject
How do I wish to be seen, Dorian?
[Inclining his head aside as he considered the possibilities of such a sentence. How did he wish to be seen? It was a deeper sentiment than first imagined. He wanted to be seen in a different light by different people. To the masses, he wished to be seen as the opposite of his father. To his friends, he wanted to be seen as trustworthy and honest. To those he adored and admired he wanted to be seen as beautiful and alluring and to the one he loved, he wished to be seen as equal. However, something tells him that's not the answer Dorian was looking for. Or is it? ]
Hmm, well...
[ Taking another drink of his port as he's toasted, tucking an unruly strand of platinum blonde hair behind a pale pointed ear. Crossing one leg over the other, his foot gently bouncing against Dorian's leg from the switch of position. ]
I feel I am unable to speak and untruth in your presence, Dorian, so I won't. When I dress, yes, I want to be seen. I want to radiate light, to draw people in like a beacon. I've spent such a long time being alone you see.
no subject
It feels almost ...innocent? Is that a word that can be applied to a being sired, in part, by a creature of the night? He doesn't know, but it's appealing, and he's intrigued.
The smile he offers Adrian when he confesses to having been alone is softer, and more sympathetic. Placing down his glass, Dorian lays a light touch over the other man's nearest hand in a small offer of warmth.]
Was that before you arrived in Duplicity? Tell me about it, [he encourages gently.]
no subject
Dorian is right to feel that way about Adrian, as wrong as it feels, as in theory nothing sired by the dead of night could be called innocent, and yet innocent is exactly what Adrian is. Sheltered, privileged, and ignorant in his youth, even going as far as to have never laid with anyone before he arrived here. No, Adrian was innocent, to more of the world than he would care to admit.
The lightest of gasps left his lips as Dorian replaced his wine glass in favor of setting his hand upon the Dhampir's. Considering the question for a long moment, simply looked into Dorian's eyes, as if he were searching them for something to make the answer hurt any less. ]
Yes and no. At first, I didn't wish to be seen at all. Instead, I had a private crypt made, one that I intended on locking myself up in forever. Only, forever seemed like an awfully long time all things considered. So... I left clues, tales, and fables for anyone interested to take as the word of God. If I was going to have company again, I wanted it to be with someone who needed me, Dorian... I wanted to be wanted.
[ Pausing for a moment, setting his own glass down and placing his now empty hand atop of the one Dorian had on his, leaning in with a tilt of his head, golden threads of hair cascading down past his shoulder and chest. ]
Since I've been here, I confess, there's only one person I truly wanted to see me, to shine for them, and yet... Ah, I'm sorry, I feel embarrassed in saying this.
[ Blushing, Adrian turned his head away in the coyest of mannerisms. ]
no subject
sincere. So utterly lacking in cynicism.
Catnip, in a word.
He could hurt this man, Dorian realizes keenly, the same way he's done men and women like Simon, Sybil, James, and all those others who ever looked at him with eyes like the ones fixed on him now. Eyes with unclouded gazes that tell of someone entrusting tender parts of themselves to him, all without knowing how many like them he's crushed once the initial infatuation faded and he withdrew his affection.
Just as keenly, he recognizes that he doesn't want to become that here. It has to be Toby's influence, he knows, and how much of an oasis of essentially uninterrupted happiness and fulfillment Duplicity has been with the vampire. But not to crush something sweet simply because he can, because his nature is poisoned through with sin and terrors, is a choice he can freely make. He can be anything he wants in this place, and would it not be better to preserve the artistry of the existence of a half-man, half-vampire who wanted to transcend the inherent distance of being something other to be truly wanted?
It would be pleasantly flattering to his ego if he lets Adrian finish, and the man tells him that he's the one he'd like to shine for with all of that ethereal, impossible grace. There's no way to know he's the one being spoken about beyond his suspicions of the man's flushing, but if he's trying to be good, as much as he ever can be and only for now, and as much as he knows such a vain attempt will never last for long, he knows he shouldn't let the man finish. Better to keep the mystery and the potential at arm's length.]
Then we'll take a picture of you when we're done so you can ensure they see you the way you've wanted them to. [With his free hand, he reaches up to tuck a few glistening strands of gold from the other man's face, and then, unable to help himself, skates the pads of his fingers appreciatively over Adrian's cheek.
Simply exquisite.]
I'd say that's a good note to start on. I didn't think we'd end up with a goal, but that adds something more, doesn't it? [He smiles, and squeezes the hand beneath his own, before rising to his feet to give the other man a tug toward the master bedroom.]
Come with me, darling. Bring the port if you want. [Although warmly-toned, it's not really a suggestion.]
no subject
Stories and fables don't always reach the people they're meant to either. Reminiscing how two more followed in the wake of Belnadaes and Belmont. Two opportunistic Vampire hunters who manipulated and used the fact Adrian wanted to be wanted against him- But, he'd rather not think of that now, far too unpleasant an experience and he doesn't want to sour his mood.
There's no doubt in Adrian's mind that Dorian could destroy him. The man was perfect in every single way the Dhampir could see, and he knew himself that pretty things, perfect things had a way of getting under your skin. Still, he wanted to let Dorian under his skin, wanted to feel him stick in there like the thorn of a rose.
As for who he was referring to, he'd keep it to himself then. If Dorian didn't think it was him, then that was alright, he would feel far too anxious if he called him out on it right there and then. After all, it's nothing more than a little crush. ]
A picture? Yes, I'd like that. You could keep a copy for yourself, call it a thank you on my behalf.
[ Subtle? Hopefully, it was subtle enough.
Letting Dorian drag him along, happy to put himself in the other man's hands, smiling as he followed him to the bedroom. That port remained with him, taking a large mouthful of it as his nervousness got the better of him. He was nervous about what he'd find in that room, nervous that he wouldn't look are beautiful as Dorian has imagined. ]
no subject
I'd be delighted to keep one. [Genuinely. The idea having a photo is oddly nostalgic - he remembers keenly when he found out that Harry had kept multiple sketches of him, too. Another parallel.]
So. [He releases Adrian, and gestures to the roof around them.] Anything catch your eye?
[That seems like a good place to start.]