dorian & godric

[brushoff]

Christ, how Dorian hated Texas.

It was the best and worst of America. There still was so much space, plenty of towns barely hanging on, hardscrabble little places that were trying to make their move, the drive and determination and chutzpah that Dorian adored of the America in the past. America in the 1920s was great. A feisty nation, determined to prove itself on the world's stage, bright and brilliant and ready to take on the challenge.

But the Texas cities? The cities were horrible. Large, ugly things almost crushed under the weight of their own self-importance and overpasses. Forgotten centers where all residents fled to cookie-cutter nigh identical houses set in towns created solely for the purpose of commuting. People didn't thrive in places like that, with their subdivisions and big box stores and fucking Targets. You lived there, but you didn't thrive. And Dorian Gray was always looking for something new, something bright and breathing and alive.

Granted, a shitty little dive bar wasn't exactly what most people thought of when they thought of 'alive.' But Dorian had been lingering around Dallas long enough that a few things had gained his interest. The coming out of the closet, so to speak, of vampires had been the big one. Idly, he wondered what Toby would have thought of it all—he felt so alone for so long. Would vampire advocacy groups or these cute little pamphlets have changed anything? Or would the Sunday morning cable news services about how all vampires are damned have made things worse? There's no way of knowing. But Dorian wanted to learn more about this himself.

Try as he may to fit in, it's obvious that Dorian is here for something. He flirts with the waitress and casually asks a few questions about vampire activity in the area. He loses a game of pool but presses his competition whenever they bring up 'fangs.' This is the third day in a row he's made some not-so-subtle inquiries about vampires, something's got to give eventually. He's British as hell, the accent is a dead giveaway, so might as well lean into the obviousness and see what happens.

And as he slips out of the back door of the dive bar, stepping outside to light up a cigarette, Dorian's certain that something will happen. What precisely? He doesn't know.

Comments

[loveisall]

"What do you understand, old man?" he asks, and there's a slight tease to his words as he reaches over to pull him close, into his lap.

"There is a cult forming. They're just on the outskirts of my territory. They hate vampires."

[brushoff]

"Do you want me to infiltrate it? I am a very good actor."

And honestly? It's something he can do. Lord knows the more Dorian falls into this vampire life, the more useless he feels.

[loveisall]

"You read my mind," he says with a smile. "I need to know if they're dangerous. Will you do that for me?"

[brushoff]

"Absolutely."

It's something he can do. Lord knows that Dorian wants to feel useful, especially in a situation like this.

"I'll poke around in the morning. Lord knows I've gotten enough gossip about me already. They'll be chomping at this bit."

[loveisall]

"Good."

He stands up and brings him into a kiss. "Go this morning. Come back tonight when I'm awake."

[brushoff]

"Of course," Dorian says, with a little nod. "Get some rest. I'll be back at yours after sundown."

It's obvious that the idea of going around and investigating a cult is invigorating Dorian. Man loves doing things and poking his nose where it shouldn't.

[loveisall]

Godric sits on his bed, finding a book. "Careful with the door," he warns him so the sun won't peek in when he leaves.

[brushoff]

Dorian only opens the door a crack, just a tiny bit so he can slip out—though he blows Godric a quick kiss before he leaves.

It's later in the evening when Dorian returns, a few hours past sundown. He slips his way into Godric's apartment before dramatically flopping down on the couch. He sighs, in a way that's overly dramatic and put upon before he calls out,

"Good news and bad news with regards to the cult, babe. Which do you want to hear first?"

[loveisall]

Godric is listening to music when Dorian wanders in, and he laments, for a moment, giving him a key. Still, he smiles to hear his voice, though he keeps his eyes closed.

"Tell me the good news first."

[brushoff]

Sure can be annoying when people randomly break into your apartment, huh Godric? (Which is pretty much precisely why Dorian just let himself in without any warning, how about them apples, babe???)

"At the moment, they're small. I'd say that the cult currently has...mmm, thirty or so people? If you've got fewer people than the Mansons or fucking Heaven's Gate, you're terrible as a cult. Take out the leader as fast as possible, I suspect the whole cult will crumble."

[loveisall]

He chuckles, eyes still closed. "Mm, and the bad news?'

[brushoff]

"At the moment, they're small. Their leader is quite good at being a demagogue. Speaking as someone who's done quite a bit of manipulation during his lifetime, he's read the book. If I were younger and stupider, I could have fallen right into his clutches."

Dorian adjusts his position on the couch, frowning slightly as he looks over at Godric. "My suggestion? A decisive, quick strike. Take him out now, let the cult fall apart naturally. If we let this linger for too long, it'll get messy."

[loveisall]

"More bloodshed," he laments. "We cannot avoid it."

He stands up then, sliding on his shoes. "You can stay if you wish," he says, though he doesn't exactly him to do anytbing of the sort.

[brushoff]

Dorian gets up from the couch, stretching languidly like a cat that just woke up from napping in a sunbeam.

"I can take care of the problem if you want me to. This isn't the first cult I've dismantled and it certainly won't be the last—I know how to hide my traces."

[loveisall]

"These are my people. My mess. I can clean it up myself. But - "

He turns to watch him, knowing he's vain enough to notice. "I would welcome your company."

[brushoff]

Dorian is indeed vain enough to notice. So don't mind him if he stretches again, this time adjusting his position so that he can show off his neck to Godric. He is vain enough to notice he's being watched and is going to give Godric something to watch in the first place.

"You're going to have to designate responsibility to me at some point," Dorian lightly teases. "Lord knows what will happen when you come across a non-nocturnal problem."

Dorian walks over towards Godric, absolutely intending to come along with him while he deals with all this. "Shall I drive?"

[loveisall]

"No, I have a driver."

Who is waiting for them outside. "And what do you think I did earlier, Dorian? Scouting out the cult for me during the day?"

He opens the door for him. The windows are heavily and illegally tinted, enough to protect him from the sunrise in emergencies.

[brushoff]

"That's child's play," Dorian sighs. "I investigate cults when I'm bored."

Dorian slides into the car, still acting like a dramatic teenager as he continues the conversation. "Have I ever told you about that doomsday cult Dottie and I stopped in Hollywood?"

[loveisall]

Godric slides an arm around him, crossing his legs in the back. "You haven't. Tell me."

[brushoff]

"It was the late 1940s," Dorian starts, absolutely not bothering to buckle up or practice good car safety (he's an immortal, he's fine!). "My good friend Dottie, Dorothy Parker, invited me to visit her in Hollywood. She was brushing up a script treatment for a film adaptation of Lady Windemere's Fan. As I knew Oscar, she thought it would be best to pick my brain.

"We went to a party and had a lovely time...until the party was interrupted by Tommy Coogan, a former child star that Dottie knew, who accused one of the studio heads of murdering his old co-star. Dottie and I poked around, did a little exploration, did a teensy bit of stealing confidential records, as one does. It was only when we visited the parents of the murdered co-star and both of us were immediately knocked unconscious, kidnapped, and dragged to a lovely little cult meeting that we knew Tommy was right on the money."

[loveisall]

Godric chuckles. None of those names are familiar, but that isn't surprising. He was in Germany for most of the early 40s, and then disappearing into the woods for the late. Of course Dorian kept friendly with movie stars or at least the Hollywood starlets.

"And why is it that you and Dottie needed to poke around in the first place?" he wonders.

[brushoff]

"Blame Dottie for that one," Dorian laughs. "She worked with Tommy when he was young—she knew about him and Mickey, the murdered co-star. She had a bleeding heart, though I know she'll never admit it. She wanted to poke around and see what happened. And I never say no to the promise of something interesting."

He shrugs before, "Besides, it's not every day you get to deal with celebrities."

[loveisall]

"Oh I won't blame your friend for it," he smiles and takes his hand, pressing a kiss to it. Just gentle. Just soft.

[brushoff]

Dorian indulges in the kiss, letting Godric's lips linger as long as he wants.

"One of the cultists shot me. He was very surprised when it didn't take and even more surprised when I shot him in return."

[loveisall]

He snorts. "They did not do their research on you?"

He slides his arm through Dorian's.