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[brushoff]

"You've reached the inbox of one Dorian Gray. Don't forget to leave me a message. If you're interesting, I'll get back to you."

voice, video, text, action

Comments

[epistemological]

I believe I've impressed her by not being the horrible monster Misty makes me out to be.

[brushoff]

I had drugs she could steal. [ shrugs! ] We each impress people in different ways.

[epistemological]

I hardly doubt it was the drugs. Though... I did send her your way. N-not for theft, after.

[brushoff]

What, because we both know I'm the same sort of fuck-up addict as she is?

[ He says the phrase 'fuck-up addict' like it's a compliment. ]

[epistemological]

[ Eye roll. ]

Because you know that if she's here... It's a symptom. Not the problem. And you won't judge her for coping.

[ He closes his eyes again. ]

I used to view my situation like that. An addiction.

[brushoff]

It's different for you, [ Dorian quickly points out. ]

We can quit. You can't.

cw suicidal ideation mention

[epistemological]

Technically... [ he breathes out slowly and keeps his eyes closed ] I could destroy my eyes. It would sever the connection with the Ceaseless Watcher. But...

It might also kill me. Since... what I am is all that keeps me from the End.

I do... I do have an option.

[brushoff]

No, [ Dorian says, without hesitation. ] You don't. Because even if you do die, there's no guarantee this thing would let you stay dead.

It didn't let me stay dead when I killed myself. Don't think you'd be different.

[epistemological]

[ There's a very sad, very hollow chuckle that's mostly smothered into the bed. No. Fuck it. They're having a good time. He pushes it aside to answer. ]

You're right, of course. I sever the connection with the Eye and I have no doubt one of the others would just take precidence. And if I tried to destroy all of those I'd just end up like the black knight from Monty Python. Worse.

How do you get rid of your ribs, after all?

[brushoff]

You know you've asked that question to the only person on the Barge who could easily remove a rib if he so chose, [ Dorian lightly teases. ]

I've gotten my appendix removed twice. Regrowing a rib should be easy enough.

[epistemological]

Having had two removed, I would prefer you didn't. If you want to see one, it's in my office in my desk drawer.

[ He breathes out slowly and nudges Dorian. Don't stop, please.

But once he's had a moment or two, once he's closed his eyes again, he lets the air out of his lungs slowly. ]

There's only one person I've ever talked to about it really. What it's like. [ as if realizing he might be going somewhere he shouldn't- ] But it feels... presumptive to assume I can speak on addiction, like you said. It's different.

[brushoff]

[ The massage continues.

Dorian has a sneaky suspicion as to who the person Jon talked to was. He'll keep that to himself, though. ]

Still, if you ever wanted to talk about it, I wouldn't mind listening.

[epistemological]

[ His eyes remain closed, at least the ones on his face, but the other eyes... those are now open. They're focused on Dorian, not so much because he needs to look at him as they need to look at something and Dorian happens to be the thing he likes most in the room. His voice is soft, achingly tired, and Dorian will feel it in the muscles beneath his hands: the tension at first and the slow release as he continues.]

It's not an addiction, you're right. But it is a... hunger. I can't forget the way it was, how it felt, subsisting primarily on written statements, chewing over the bones of a previous meal, eeking out the second-hand terror as I read them aloud. But it's... worse than that.

So much worse.

I think-

I think I'm more aware of just how fucked so many people in this place actually have been. I think- I think I know better than anyone just how much pain is locked up inside, just how much grief and terror and helplessness is in everyone here. Inmates. Wardens. It doesn't fucking matter. I'm a predator, Dorian. I. subsist. on it.

I smell it.

Not... not on everyone. I think there are some worlds, some- some people who for some reason or another, they muddle my senses but for most people here, the majority of people here, I can smell the statement under their skin, lurking in their bones, feel it hiding in the way they twitch or how they react when someone does that one specific thing that sets them off-

I Know. I know it's there and I- [ a darker chuckle ] and there is a part of me that wants to drag them into a corner and draw it out of them, reach in and say 'tell me' and know what it is, know why they're hurting. Even the best part of me. I don't, obviously. I wouldn't, I just- Henry accused me of wanting to be human, of wanting to be normal the other day and I-

In some ways, I don't think I even remember what that is anymore. I don't think I could survive like that. I might look human but the more I live in this skin, the longer I feel and know and smell and see what I see, the more-

The more I think that even if I get a deal and purge myself of the influence of the Entities, break the chain between us, I- I-

I still won't be human.

[brushoff]

[ There's a pause as Dorian takes all this in. There's a moment as he's quiet, continuing to massage Jon's shoulders before he asks, ]

Is it really that important to be human?

[ There's a pause before he continues. ] Technically, I'm human. I bleed, I break, if there's some lovely little nonsense that affects humanity, it'll affect me as well. But if we're talking experiences? Personality? I've got more in common with the monsters and the vampires of the world than I do anything human.

Henry didn't accuse you of wanting to be human because he thought you were trying to be human. Henry accused you of wanting to be human because you rejected the fucked up little Ubermensch ideal that he feels anyone who's more than a baseline human should aspire to.

[ Case in point: Dorian himself. He's had that conversation with Henry before. ]

What matters isn't trying to be human or fit in or not giving in to your hunger. What matters is trying to be a decent person. You're that in spades.

[epistemological]

[ That gets a more genuinely amused chuckle.]

Oh, I'm well aware of that, Dorian. I know how he sees things. And I wasn't-

I wasn't actually saying I want that. That I want to be human. That there's something wrong with not being human.

I'm saying...

I don't... know what I'm going to do. Because once I get my deal, and I have to get it, that- I'd never dream of not getting it... that is... that is what I will be. Without that connection, I'm physically human.

But my insides... aren't. Haven't been.

It's... something I've been struggling with.

[brushoff]

No matter what happens, I suspect you'll do the same thing you always do, [ Dorian muses. ] Wake up the next day and decide to try your best.

[epistemological]

Yes, well, it would help if my best weren't constantly fucking it up, hmm?

[ He closes his eyes again. ]

[brushoff]

Constantly fucking things up isn't something unique to the Jonathan Sims of the world, [ Dorian dryly responds. ] Everybody does that as well.

[epistemological]

Yes, but I'm the only me, as it were. I'm allowed to dislike it.

[brushoff]

You're the only you so far. I'm certain your world has a Dorian Gray who's already one of those Entity's bitch. Why shouldn't my world have a Jonathan Sims who's lived a normal, day to day, peaceful sort of life?

[epistemological]

I know of exactly one other Jonathan Sims. He has most certainly not lived a normal, day-to-day life.

Because Jonathan Sims would lose his bloody mind if he tried to.

[brushoff]

Once you've had a taste of these things, it's hard to go back.

[epistemological]

Quite a lot of people want desperately to go back.

I was just... never one of them.

[brushoff]

One of the many reasons I adore you. I don't want anyone safe. Safe is dull, I've had a hundred years to be safe. I want someone who can match me for what I am.

[epistemological]

[ There's a very wry smile on his face. ]

So I'm a well-matched purse, am I?