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"It is - disgustingly terrible," he agrees. "I feel more at home in the factories and the dirt than this."

And it's not clean dirt. It's oily and dark. That's better.

"You know, I don't think we've had a single port that has a factory?" Which now that he thinks about it, is kind of weird. Surely there were more industrial places than just on Earth. Why haven't they run into one of them yet?

"Maybe the Admiral's just more of a get back to nature person—which frankly, I'm annoyed by."

"This sort of nature is positively nausea-inducing," he mutters. "And it's far too hot."

Now he's just complaining because Dorian's complaining.

Look, as far as Dorian's concerned, a nice bitch session is healthy! If you don't like something, better you complain about it and get it all out instead of just letting your annoyances rot.

"I think we're supposed to find this sort of thing charming. Like oh look, here are these peasants, aren't they so delightful and pastoral, everybody's coming back to nature." Dorian wrinkles his nose and makes a face. "Delightful and pastoral and we left all that shit hundreds of years ago."

"You did."

He pauses as a thought occurs to him. "Or perhaps I did. Sometimes I think that everyone else is from my past."

There's a pause as Dorian chuckles. "Oddly enough, I know that feeling. Of course, every now and then you get one of our ridiculous futuristic space people who rattle off boring terms from their world like they expect us to know it." John Gaius. Alexander Hilbert. Jedao a little bit.

"But then again, you also get one of our ridiculous fantasy people who rattle off boring terms from their world like they expect us to know it." Literally everybody from a cdrama except Yunlan (this is why Dorian likes Yunlan).

"As far as I'm concerned, that might as well be the same thing."

"The future isn't always - the same," he points out. "It doesn't always lead to prosperity and better fortunes."

He shrugs. "Not for normal people. You'd be fine. You people always are."

"You people as in 'immortals' or you people as in 'rich fuckers?'" he dryly asks.

"Rich fuckers," he laughs. "I'm an immortal, remember?"

Or at least he was until Florian died.

"In that case, yep! I'll absolutely be fine. I'm fine no matter what!" Dorian laughs, giving Johann a shit-eating grin before shifting to a little laugh.

"Yes, yes, good for you, sweetheart," he purrs. "You're immune from the woes of the world no matter where you go, but you still complain about being outdoors."

"You're also complaining," Dorian points out. "Besides, if you wanted, you could be immune from the woes of the world yourself. Just graduate first."

"And go back to what?" he mutters, glancing at him with annoyance.

"Whatever you want. Florian. A new world where nobody knows your name. A big city with so sorts of lovely little back streets to hide the corpses in."

"He's dead," he tells him stiffly. "And there's no world I want to go back to."

"Stay on as a warden and you can bring him back," points out the man who knows that Johann isn't going to ever be a warden.

"As for that other point? Honestly, you'd fit well in my world. And I'm sure there are others you'd fit in as well. You just need to expand your horizons."

As tempting as it is, he would never be able to.

But he aches for him again and that sadness and anger wells up in him enough that he goes silent for a while.

"Sure thing, boss."

That's a silence that says something. A silence that Dorian knows he should press at.

Not now, though.

"I should show you London in the Enclosure. After all, we both know we aren't stopping at a fucking city any time soon."

"I saw London," he mutters. "Sebastian showed me."

Which reminds him, and is a good opportunity for him to point out -

"He's my friend. And I haven't killed anyone in that time. I think it's nearly time for you to pay up."

Note to self: bother Sebastian to double-check this.

"When we're back on the ship, I'll send a message to the Admiral to let you have your full healing back. Anyway, my London's different from Sebastian's. It's much more modern, for one."

"You keep using that word, but I'm not certain you really understand what it means," he mutters. "Modern doesn't mean a damned thing."

"It does to me," Dorian shrugs. "I've lived through what most people are now nostalgic about it. And I honestly can't see why they would go back to times like that."

"Because you're a bitter, cynical bastard," he remarks lightly.

"Takes one to know one!" Dorian happily chirps. You're a cynical bastard too, babe.

"Yes, but I have a reason to be. You did this to yourself."

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