Re: 55 - What to do, after the end of the World.
A small smile crept onto Dorian's normally dour countenance at Trista's acceptance, and at her wording of the acceptance. He nodded. While he knew little of her or her abilities, it made him glad to have another along with them. Perhaps it was not so much Trista's acceptance, as his own efforts to assist in Berd's recruiting efforts. He should have been suspicious, and he knew that. While the others tended to embrace newcomers, or at least give them warm acceptance, Dorian always kept a wary eye out. He always let them know he was not so easily won over. This time, he was the one extending trust.
He felt like a liar.
He was trying, really trying, to be as he knew the others felt he should, but not for the others. One part of him, he knew, did it for Cyan. Another recognized that this change had begun when the two Dorian's merged their minds. Yet, Berd had a profound point. Dorian had not initiated, nor acceded, to that melding. At the end of the day, the clone had attacked, overcome and forced the melding. The clone had guided the processes with a careful, surgical hand. He was more the clone than the original Dorian, which meant he had the clone's flaw- compassion. Still, the old Dorian lurked behind the compassion like a sniper in the bushes just waiting for the perfect shot.
How long would it be? How long until the old Dorian reared, leaving Trista confused by his sudden venom? How long would it be until Meredith realized that this niceness was little more than a thin act; an experiment at being something he, fundamentally, was not?
"Good," he says to Trista, but the smile has faded now. Should he warn her, somehow? Should he tell her he might be a complete ass to her tomorrow, simply because that's who he was, no matter how much he loathed it?
"We are a complex group," he adds, with a weary expression. "We have each had our own trials, but we have each been through hell in some fashion or another. At times, you will likely think our spirits have been broken. And do not doubt that you will have your turn, as well. For now, rest is in order. It has been a tiring day physically, mentally and spiritually, for me."
He hated to leave, when he thought about it. The gathering was thinning, but James and Meredith would be back, soon. Trista would not be along. James would talk to her. They seemed to know each other.
"Before I retire, I'll ask if you require anything; I have it in my power to provide nearly anything mundane you may need for the evening."
Perhaps he was trying a little too hard at the politeness thing. What could he say; he was new to it?
No, not entirely new, just new to this kind of courtesy. Samhain had been filled to overflowing with etiquette that revolved around personal space and courtesy. With the race developing on small, mountainous landmasses in tightly packed living areas, it was natural, but that was not politeness, it was merely etiquette. Different.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:13, Sat 03 Feb 2007.