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]

"There's no need for stubbornness," he points out gently. "I have to keep my people safe, Dorian."

He reaches out and takes his arm, guiding him away from prying ears.

[brushoff]

"It's not stubbornness," Dorian points out, with a roll of his eyes and a frown. "It's sending a message."

But he will happily let Godric lead him away, to a quieter location.

[loveisall]

Once he's certain no one can overhear, even vampires, he puts a hand to Dorian's chest. Godric is worried. And when he's worried, he pushes back. "Don't do that," he says softly. "We are not here to send messages."

[brushoff]

"And who is 'we' in this scenario?" Dorian lightly responds. "Because I've found that when I'm in a scenario like this, sending a message is a grand idea. It's especially a grand idea to make certain that they stop at windows and don't dream bigger."

[loveisall]

"And risk the lives of the ones I am supposed to care for?" he mutters. "Dorian...I won't do that."

[brushoff]

Dorian lets out a very irritated 'hmmph.' It's obvious that he thinks this idea isn't good, that they should do something, that anything is better than just sitting here...but fine. He'll acquiesce.

"In that case, what will you do instead?"

[loveisall]

He spreads out his hands. He knows Dorian isn't going to like this next answer.

"We move."

[brushoff]

Dorian does not like the answer.

"And then what happens? When they find us next? We move again? You're running, Godric. And as long as you run, others will chase."

[loveisall]

Godric looks away, eyes narrowed. He doesn't want to lead. He hates leading. He wants to run and leave this all fucking behind.

"And how do I prevent bloodshed?"

[brushoff]

"Sometimes you can't," Dorian hates to admit. "Sometimes the only way to fight fire is with fire. Draw your line in the sand and retaliate when they cross it."

Dorian, in contrast, is remarkably cavalier, remarkably used to bloodshed. He's gone through so much already to keep the people he cares about safe. Zombies, a kraken, ten years of his memory... If he has to deal with one cult? If he has to break a few eggs? So be it.

[loveisall]

Godric places his hands on Dorian's shoulders. "You are already protective of the ones in this nest," he says, taking Dorian's hand and kissing him. "Thank you."

[brushoff]

Dorian takes the kiss. After a moment, he grumbles, "I'm protective of you. I care about the nest by association."

Which is kind of a shitty thing to say, but at the end of the day? That's the truth.

[loveisall]

He isn't surprised, but he does squeeze his hand and doesn't address it.

"What should I do, Dorian?" he wonders. "If you were me."

[brushoff]

"You already know my answer," Dorian points out. "Fight back. Break their ranks, break them enough that they won't try to retaliate. You can let the lower rungs live if your empathy is winning out. But as long as those people think they have a chance to hurt you, they'll take it."

[loveisall]

"You're talking about war, Dorian." He heaves a very big sigh. "I will need to take it to the Authority."

He would literally rather cut off his own head.

[brushoff]

There's a small pause before,

"Aaand the Authority is....?"

The last time he dealt with vampire nonsense was the 1980s! And it was British vampire bullshit! Fill a man in!

[loveisall]

Godric sighs. Oh, this will take a moment. He takes his hand and leads him to another room, letting the others work in the main room. He turns on the music to drown it out and sits on one of the couches.

"They are the vampire government here," he explains. "They are the ones who...convinced...me to take this position."

Convinced. Forced. Either way.

[brushoff]

Dorian flops down on the couch, sitting right next to Godric as he listens to the explanation. Alright. Vampire government. Sure, that's a thing! Apparently there's enough vampires out there to form a fucking government.

Dorian isn't entirely sure how he feels about that. The vampires he's encountered are few and far between. Maybe this is an America thing.

"And if you go scorched earth, then you'll inevitably be dragged into the worst thing of all worlds: red tape."

[loveisall]

"They are a semi-religious organization bent on ensuring that there is a smooth transition out," he explains. "And keeping control."

He reaches out and toys with Dorian's hair. "And yes. Red tape. I have to keep you away from them."

[brushoff]

Semi-religious? Ew. Dorian's nose wrinkles as he points out,

"Trying to keep me away from something means I'm inevitably going to end up dealing with it. That's my lot in life, as it were."

[loveisall]

"That is, I fear, something you do to yourself," he grumbles. "So try and restrain yourself."

He isn't really upset about it. But he does tap his nose.

"No religion you have ever heard of," he says, assuming that was what the reason for the face was.

[brushoff]

"I'll try," Dorian points out, with a wry little smirk. "But I'm a fabulously attractive immortal currently fucking someone who's apparently in the high echelons of vampire politics. They'll figure me out sooner rather than later."

Which Dorian doesn't seem to mind. But he's not sure if he doesn't mind because this isn't something to worry about or if because he just doesn't know the true extent of how much in danger he might be.

"And good. I'm the sort of person Christians hate, I'd rather not deal with that."

[loveisall]

He gently rakes his fingers through Dorian's hair again, thoughtful as he watches the door. He can hear them working on the windows out there and he feels that immense, painful guilt in his chest.

"I am exactly where they want me to be," he corrects him instead of dwelling. "Dorian. I am the oldest vampire in existence. I could lead the Authority. My daughter is a high ranking member of it. But - I won't. And that makes them nervous. They forced me into this position."

[brushoff]

Dorian's eyes bug out a little at that realization. The oldest vampire in existence. Logically speaking, that makes sense. But practically speaking, that's not something that crossed his mind until now.

"How can they force you into this? If you're the oldest vampire in existence, that seems like the sort of thing that would give you leeway to do whatever you want."

[loveisall]

He chuckles softly. "I used to roam the forests, but now there's no more forests. My territory is shrinking. I cannot roam and hunt like I did before. I had to - face reality," he explains.