[ To be fair, Dorian's motivation here isn't wholly apparent to Dorian. But he knows what this is. It's a challenge. And he's not one to back away from a challenge.
yolo, bitch. ]
I give you permission to See the memory of my conversation with BEAUTY.
[ It's a very specific memory with a very specific limitation. Nothing with Adam Notting himself, the man who Dorian still held a tiny little torch for. Nothing with his flirtations, his cruelty, his anger at being called the perfect simulacrum. Just his conversation with the computer, with BEAUTY, and all that entailed. ]
[ Nothing changes in Elias' demeanour as he slips gently into Dorian's head for the memory that has lit up into visibility there. He's very skilled at this, and the fact that here he can't access just anything that takes his fancy makes any discernible touch on another's mind even lighter.
He doesn't even need to close his eyes to relive it in a moment, to Know what it was to live that-- to engage with BEAUTY as Dorian had done.
The pause is perhaps ten seconds long, then: ]
Ah-- yes, I'd forgotten just how technology looked back then. One gets so used to having computers that slip into a pocket.
[ There's so many little small moments that Dorian couldn't mention in his story. BEAUTY as a large, impressive, room-sized machine, tape flickering and lights blinking. A mechanical voice, emanating from BEAUTY, intoning "I knew one day my prince would come." BEAUTY asking "please tell me about Adam Notting."
The admiration in Dorian's voice as he talks about Adam Notting and the hesitation and sadness in Dorian's voice when he hears about how Adam's mind is failing. The poem that Dorian recited, the poem written by BEAST: 'Adam and Dorian went for a walk across the silver gray moon. The sky was black, the earth was bright. What do you think started that night?'
Dorian's disgust in his voice as relays what Notting called him: a copy of a person. Dorian's sadness in his voice as he orders BEAUTY to stop, to stop playing a recording of Adam, talking about how his mental facilities were failing, how he was going to be put somewhere else.
BEAUTY entreating Dorian to complete it, saying that Dorian was the final piece. Dorian refusing. ]
I thought it was impressive at the time, [ he shrugs. ] Compared to modern day computers, it all looks a bit like shit though, doesn't it.
I would be flattered if the piece of me immortalised outside of myself wasn't dogshit. [ He says, just very bluntly. ] Oscar's prose was phenomenal. BEAST's poetry was dreadful—and BEAUTY was already on the way out as well. I refuse to settle for less than the best.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
yolo, bitch. ]
I give you permission to See the memory of my conversation with BEAUTY.
[ It's a very specific memory with a very specific limitation. Nothing with Adam Notting himself, the man who Dorian still held a tiny little torch for. Nothing with his flirtations, his cruelty, his anger at being called the perfect simulacrum. Just his conversation with the computer, with BEAUTY, and all that entailed. ]
no subject
He doesn't even need to close his eyes to relive it in a moment, to Know what it was to live that-- to engage with BEAUTY as Dorian had done.
The pause is perhaps ten seconds long, then: ]
Ah-- yes, I'd forgotten just how technology looked back then. One gets so used to having computers that slip into a pocket.
no subject
The admiration in Dorian's voice as he talks about Adam Notting and the hesitation and sadness in Dorian's voice when he hears about how Adam's mind is failing. The poem that Dorian recited, the poem written by BEAST: 'Adam and Dorian went for a walk across the silver gray moon. The sky was black, the earth was bright. What do you think started that night?'
Dorian's disgust in his voice as relays what Notting called him: a copy of a person. Dorian's sadness in his voice as he orders BEAUTY to stop, to stop playing a recording of Adam, talking about how his mental facilities were failing, how he was going to be put somewhere else.
BEAUTY entreating Dorian to complete it, saying that Dorian was the final piece. Dorian refusing. ]
I thought it was impressive at the time, [ he shrugs. ] Compared to modern day computers, it all looks a bit like shit though, doesn't it.
no subject
I'd have thought you might be flattered, having a piece of you immortalised outside of yourself?
no subject