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entranceway2016-09-26 07:09 am
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[At this point, he was certian he had no idea where he was. Yes, the paintings and photographs were quite lovely, but he doesn't recognize any styles from the galleries of London or Paris and he certainly hasn't seen a photograph with so much color in his life.]
[Then there was the strange device he found on his person. Nevermind how a tiny thing like this manages to function without winding it up, but it displayed various messages and images along with bizzare formats. What on earth was a "video?"]
[He turned the device over in his hand for a third time and sighed. If this was the only way he can contact someone for help, he may as well learn to use it.]
Hello?
Can someone tell me where I am?
I woke up in a strange gallery with a strange device.
Very confused.
Please respond.
From Dorian Gray.
[Dorian presses the send button and waits for a reply. He glances up every now and then, looking for someone in the room to talk to.]
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[Dorian's not a shapeshifter, but he was from London. A diffrent London, where this gentleman did not exist. Good. Perhaps Dorian shall try to downplay any similarites and present himself as someone who could be approached. He was pretty good at lulling others into a false sense of security.]
I'm assuming this place does that a lot. Bringing in people from two different worlds that almost know each other.
[He smiles, sweetly, as if he were harmless.] With that being said, how about we try this introduction again.
[He offers his hand] My name is Dorian Gray, and you must be...
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[This Dorian may not be the same man, but he's still a Dorian Gray, and that carries meaning in a place like this. Victor lets his explanation suffice as an apology, looking him over from head to toe as one scrutinizes a box of cereal with a new brand they suspect has borrowed an old recipe.
After a moment, he takes Dorian's hand. History repeats itself. Here he is, meeting the man all over again, surrounded by the dead stares of art portraits.
Is this one an immortal, too? Is he acquainted with his own version of Dr. Frankenstein? He's about to find out as a proper introduction is unavoidable now.]
Victor Frankenstein.
sorry about the cannon puncture
[A proper handshake is made, but his hand lingered for a secondwhen he heard the name.]
[No, Dorian had not met a Victor Frankenstein in his world. But...]
Frankenstein?
Forgive me, but if I didn't know any better I would ask if you were the same man from the novel...
[To be fair, he had merely skimmed the novel the last time he read it. This, though... This is a little surreal.]
np!
Finding a different man in place of the one he'd expected to see is already lucky--for this to be a different Dorian and for him to be unfamiliar with him or Shelley's novel would be a miracle twice over. Victor will settle for one instance of good luck. Any more would be greedy.
The very picture of noncommittal, he shrugs with his tone more than his body.]
Popular names, yours and mine.
[He's not in the business of assuaging people's curiosity about his character. Dorian can come to his own conclusions.]
Now to canon puncture Dorian.
[If he is to come to his own conclusions, so be it. Perhaps he could ask Victor about the alps or that ship mentioned in the first chapter... But now...]
I have a popular name, now? How so?
or he could be a dbag instead :'D
[That's what he says, but what he's really thinking of is the titular novel he'd found in the library months ago. Murder. Deception. A cursed portrait. It's a story with as many unsettling revelations as his and Van Helsing's stories. Victor's gaze remains steady, keeping his expression free of those thoughts.
He could share what he knows. He could warn this Dorian about the novel's existence if he hasn't been told already. But why ruin the suspense? Saying nothing will yield more interesting results.]
Are you finding the responses on the device... enlightening?
[Innocent, oh so innocent.]
OKAY TWO CAN PLAY AT THAT GAME
[How could Dorian's name be so common? He's certain he was the only man with that name, unless there were other worlds where...]
[Unless Victor is hiding something. What, though, Dorian is not sure. But let's move on from that for now, he shall have to find out later.]
For the most part, yes.
This one fellow, a Mr. Fujishiro, seems to be the most helpful at the moment... And one woman insisted on talking to me through "voice".
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I'm sure you'll find with further practice the device and network allow for a great many methods of communication.
[This agreeable politeness chafes Victor like an ill-fitting shirt, but he doesn't want to be the first to break it, intent on getting a feel for this new Dorian. By virtue of his ignorance toward Victor and the business they'd been a part of, he's less of a danger to him on a personal level than his counterpart, but that doesn't necessarily mean he's less of a danger to the mansion at large.]
Where and when do you hail from, precisely? Time and space move in complicated ways in this place.
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London. In England. The year was 1889 the last time I checked.
And yourself? Where and when are you from?
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(And you don't even have to ask him, he's more than happy to share his opinions on smooth-talking men with good cheekbones. In summary: they are not to be trusted.)]
1889, you say.
[Hm. Mentally, he catalogues that information away, eyebrows rising and falling. Same city. Almost the same time. Still, the face is too different. No one would confuse the two Dorians as each other after laying eyes on them; this one is a little younger and fairer. They wouldn't even be mistaken for brothers.]
Also London, but the year is 1892.
[His answer is given offhandedly, almost as an afterthought. His home is no secret, and it has the added bonus of differentiating him from his book counterpart.]
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[So this fellow is probably nothing like the book? He can't be sure, but the place and time are wrong... Still useful information.]
Well, perhaps we can make an agreement. If you don't assume I'm anything like the fellow you knew, I won't assume you're anything like that novel. Does that sound fair?
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People who have nothing to hide don't need to ask for clean slates.]
That's generous of you.
[He already knows his answer--it's not a deal he's about to keep to, and he doubts Dorian will, either, if such a thing were even possible. But right now they're acting the part of civilized gentlemen--and civilized gentlemen nod agreeably when a polite offer's been made.]
I accept your terms.
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Thank you.
Now, then... How has this Wonderland been treating you, sir? Well enough, I hope?
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It is a strange place to call home. [That, at least, is the truth.] You know of the Lewis Carroll novels, I presume? Then you have a working knowledge of the surreality at work. My advice is to expect more of it.
[He assumes this is what Dorian's interested in--learning about his new home from those who've been here longer. Victor's eyebrows lift a little higher. He could get used to having the upper hand in dealings with Dorian Grays of all kinds.]
There's reading material you may find educational. A pamphlet.
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[Among other things, that is. Though the surreality does explain the strange devices and pictures.]
Ah! I've been informed of that pamphlet. Someone already sent a copy to my device... One moment.
[He goes back through his texting history and pulls up his previous conversation with Max. It takes him a second to relocate the attachment and open it.]
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This world and the stories share as many difference as similarities. I'm afraid you'll be disappointed if you're looking for the iconic rabbit, he's not a major player in this game. [As for Evelyn's attempt at a helpful brochure...] So you've found it. There you have it, then.
[Out of propriety, Victor would have directed him to the pamphlet if he had yet to learn of it, but seeing as he has, Victor's job here is done. Others can surely fill in the details.]
I expect you'll have a busy day ahead familiarizing yourself with the area. I'll leave you to it if it's all the same.
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[So Mr. Frankenstein doesn't want to be here. Pity. Oh well, best not to keep him here too long. Besides, Dorian can always bother him later.]
If you insist. Do you have any comments to add?
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[Kind of like Dorian himself. His Dorian, at least. It remains to be seen if this one is in the habit of using pretty words to dissemble in the same way, never quite saying what he means in a way that would disturb the pristine, elegant surface of his outward appearance. The Dorian Gray he'd met is exactly like his art--still, contained, a thing of marble more than flesh.
Victor might have envied that once. The insufferable calm confidence.
As it is, he's not unskilled at affecting composure when he's in need of it, and right now he's hidden any eagerness to remove himself from Dorian's presence with a benign show of patience, hands clasped in front of him.]
I'd assumed you'd prefer your own company while you looked around. I'll remain if you have need of me.
[He's not fond of the idea of playing tour guide when memories of another Dorian's blood-splattered white suit linger near, but Victor's managed civility this long; he won't insist on leaving. As much as he might like to be a brat, he's supposed to be maturing. Theoretically.]
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[Perhaps he might be the same as the man Victor knew. Perhaps there might be a small twinge of humanity inside. It's impossible to tell.]
While I would love the company of others, perhaps it would be more convinient for both of us if I messaged you for help. I don't know what else to ask about at the moment... Unless you wanted to discuss other things.
[In case Victor felt like being chatty. Dorian won't keep him waiting around if he has other things to do.]
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If you like. You should be able to identify my name on the list of contacts now.
[He lifts one eyebrow slightly higher than the other, unable to tell if this Dorian is beating around the bush with a plan in mind. Is this segue leading them somewhere?]
Other things?
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[Dorian doesn't have an ulterior motive in mind for Victor at the moment, he just finds him interesting.]
Yes, small talk. Perhaps we could talk about what our lives back home were really like, or about some other characters I might recognize from Lewis Carrol's novel... Or...
[In case Victor hates long conversations...]
We could chat about the weather.
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As someone who's spent most of his adult life avoiding dreaded small talk with people incapable of understanding half of the subjects he's interested in, he finds the request almost funny. If he were the laughing type, that's what he'd be doing right about now.]
Was that a joke? You'll forgive me if I'm unable to tell.
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[Poor thing. Perhaps Dorian should help this man's social life after getting acquainted with Wonderland.]
No, it was a suggestion. You don't have to take it if you don't want to.
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[Said wryly, with a touch of flatness to the words to make it clear Victor doesn't entirely mean it as a compliment. He's a self-contained creature who's so far lived his life by a schedule; that schedule's never allowed much room for standing around chitchatting.]
The weather's very fair, for the record. As one of Wonderland's artificial constructs, I do believe that sufficiently covers it. [Good talk, though.] Otherwise, I don't think I'm the ideal candidate for the kind of company you're looking for.
[He'll answer questions should the newcomer have them. He can even play nice, for the most part. But conversing for the sake of conversing isn't a strong suit of his, which he expects has become clear.]
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What do you mean by "Wonderland's artificial constructs?"
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