EXT - Windgrace Manor, garden to INT - Okiya, Little Edo; Callisto
Blake Jermyn had been skulking around the scene of the 'crime,' as it were, trying to get a better feel for the layout of Roesler's manor in case he or Deadman ever, stars forbid, found themselves trapped in that hell again. He was shocked he hadn't noticed the dilapidated, clearly unoccupied house next to it, a perfect base of operations to launch an attack if he ever /really/ wanted to get back at Roesler for all that he did to them, and-... Wait, were those voices? Immediately, his body plummeted to the ground, held aloft by the tenuous force of sheer will alone, and he scooted along the ground, staying half-buried in the underbrush, to observe. He recognized the two blondes in the yard; they were the ones at the New Year's ball, the one where he'd first locked eyes on the man he now knew was /not/ his own, and sent him on his descent into madness. Hazy memories drifted back, the tension between the young man and Roesler, seeming to dance like a whirlwind around the woman who now sat peacefully reading on a nearby bench. Alright. So this was a long shot. But Blake c ould use all the allies he could get right now.... He lifted a pebble in one pale, bruised hand, flung it very gently towards Dorian. "Psst...."
Dinah was in the garden, a book of poetry in her lap. she liked the garden, or the floral places, She was happy enough, whiling away her time and occasionally reading an entry aloud that she liked, as she was doing now.
"Beauty grown sad with its eternity
Made you of us, and of the dim grey sea.
Our long ships loose thought-woven sails and wait,
For God has bid them share an equal fate" she recited it aloud "isn't Yeats fantastic, Dori?"
perhaps it was an old habit, reading aloud, from long, long ago. The chocolate box at her side promised she was planning on sitting out here for a while, and she carefully unwrapped the foil of one, until she heard a 'psst' and she paused, peering around, missing the stone thrown towards her brother.
Dorian had barely left Dinah's immediate orbit since the evening of the dinner party. But now and then a man had to bathe, and so he'd just gotten clean, fresh clothes on and only recently joined his sister outside. Long enough to stare, and be regaled with poetry, have a rock tossed his way. He'd been lost in her loveliness even before the Yeats happened., and was likely to stand there staring for long minutes after. Answering her question with a dopey grin, he'd remark, "It is hard to say if the poem is lovely or the lips which it fell from colour it more--" he broke off, looking for the source of a disturbance in the bushes, near enough to his sister for alarm. As he walked that direction he'd finish, "-- favourably. What in the bloody hell?" He was peering and crouching and making to haul the guy up by the shirt as a presumed threat.
It may have been the case that he'd drag the guy out more forcefully than he even intended to, given that there was less of him than Dorian had expected. It seemed he was an unfortunate, so the immediate threatening edge to his voice was softened just a skosh and he'd remark, "I think you have gotten lost. Good job I found you before Strawberry. He's a hunting hound much less sweet than the name would suggest."
Blake Jermyn took in the absolutely lovestruck gaze on the young man's face as he was regaled with poetry, and knew in that instant, he'd been entirely correct. That WAS his girl on the bench there, and he was absolutely over the MOON for her. Okay, good start. Now all he had to do was convince the guy that they were both in the same boat, two dashing prince charmings willing to do anything to snatch their damsels (could a 60 year old man be a damsel? Blake had no idea,) from the precipice of Roesler's slavering jaws. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.
Except it wasn't, at all, and everything was immediately starting to go horribly, horribly wrong.
"Hhhheeeeey buddyyyyyyyyyyy," Blake said, sheepish, conciliatory grin on his face as he was hauled up by the collar, one shaky, scabbed over hand reaching up in a peace-seeking gesture, "I, uh, probably? But you're actually just the guy I wanted to see, so, like, that's lucky, huh?" A high, strained, nervous laugh, the stumps of his legs wiggling uselessly in the air.
Dinah frowned a little in concern as Dorian immediately darted for the bushes, dragging out at least *most* of a man. She gripped onto the cushion of her bench and cowered behind it, wide silvery eyes peering over the top.
"What is it, dorian?" she let out a squeal as she caught sight of Blake "What in gods name.. there's a bloody boy in our garden, dori, do something" she cringed behind her cushion. The artist from the cabaret? yes, she remembered the hair. However, she remembered him being far taller.
Dorian was not squeamish about the guy being dirty or broken, but he was territorial as chief guard dog. And while his own faculties ran toward pity for poor people, there was his sister to consider. Who he'd nearly always alter his intentions on account of. He'd listened to the man, recognizing nothing about him, but yet heard after her voice rang out, the alarm coming from Dinah. He'd assure her while evaluating the man's face now that he was out in the light, rather than just his alarming lack of legs, "I have him in hand, dearest. Worry not. He's harmless I am sure." /Hlegless was more like it,/ he thought, but aloud he finished, "I shall see what business the man has with me, and we will do it walking."
He'd no trouble holding the man up, but shifted the method he'd employ sort of siding his arms behind him like a dance partner to do-ci-do out the gate. Dorian's strength was such that he could carry on like this and hardly mess up his hair, let alone not even having his breathing elevated. It might make the guy seem more like a drunken friend, with invisible legs, or a ventriloquist's prop, but it somehow seemed more civil than the other thing. It also had the benefit of putting himself firmly between Dinah and the stranger.
He'd look back at his sister to nod that he was taking care of it, and then inquire, taking a pace or two toward the hedge-gate, with a calm that was coloured by curiosity and compassion, given he was absolutely certain there was nothing to be worried about from this person, "I am sure we have not met, but please, explain yourself."
Blake Jermyn could /feel/ he was in some deep, deep shit, raising the ire of the golden-haired young man as soon as looking at him. But maybe, maybe, he could still dig his way out of this, use his quicksilver tongue to weave them all a much finer, happier portrait... "Yeah, nope, no harm meant my dudes," he was quick to reassure after Dorian spoke, offering both of them that too-wide, sheepish smile, "I just wanted to say hey, that's all, you guys are great..." A slight look of distress as Dorian mentioned the word "walking," which he would think it was pretty clear by now that he was in no way capable of, but then Dorian's grip on him was shifting, directing him into a sort of lean-carry, the motion of it leaving him giggling in giddy delight despite himself.
Once they were out of Dinah's earshot, however, Blake's face grew a bit more serious, a bit more earnest, locking Dorian's baby blue gaze with his pale ice one. "Okay. Okay. Listen. I get that this is a little sudden and unexpected, but it's important. I think we got somethin' in common." A look down at himself, then at Dorian, and another dizzy little giggle. "Okay, maybe not obviously, maybe not at first glance, but somethin' important all the same." A brief nod of his head back in Dinah's direction. "That's ya girl, right? On the bench? Don't worry, when I say somethin' in common, I don't mean I'm into her too," another little laugh, a lifting of both palms as if to say perish the thought, "I just mean... I know what it is to love someone like that. So much your heart might burst, so much you'd do anything just to see 'em smile. And I know how bad it is when something, comes between you." A furtive glance in the direction of Roesler's estate.
Dinah kept her grip on the cushion, staring at the strangeness that was Blake. "...why is he grubbing about in our garden?" She wrinkled her nose at the terrible pun from her twin, giving him a dubious look when WE would be walking.
At least he was on the way to the gate. Voluntarily or otherwise. it was DEFINITELY A good thing that Strawberry hadn't caught the scent of blood and charged the intruder down already. "my...dudes? did he just call me a man?" she poked out a little more from her cushion, mildly outraged. With both men heading off towards the gate, dinah sulked back into position, finishing unwrapping her chocolate and staring at the back of them.
Dorian was not the brightest bulb in the family chandelier, but he did take his time figuring things out. Wheels of thought could be plainly seen turning in the kink his brow and drawn into over his shining silver eyes. He'd even stopped walking gateward as he tried to parse the man's strange vernacular. Again, he'd answer his sister before the stranger, "I shall find out, do not worry. Clearly this poor confused fellow is from New South Wales, one of that unfortunate lot I would wager, from the sound of him." That was his best guess. And Australia was a mess. All of the one-time colonies, by an Englishman's recollection, had severe troubles with civilization and civility.
He could tell that the guy did not mind being held up at least to look like he was whole. So given that the man had pegged him as head over heels in love with his sister, and appealed to that love, he'd hear him out. What he did was change trajectory, then carried Blake over to the side of the house, put him down so the man could sit up, leaning against the post. Once his hands were free, he'd wipe them with one another, and entreat Blake while staring him up and down, "You might have given yourself a bit of a wash before visiting. But here you are, please state your business. Is it the asylum that you came from?"
Blake Jermyn blinked a bit as Dorian pegged him for... New South Wales. He didn't think his Liverpool accent was THAT off the mark.... And he wasn't even using it right now. Well, no reason to disabuse the young man of this notion, not like his country of origin wasn't going to be entirely made up here no matter what, and besides, that wasn't what they were here to talk about. Thankfully, as they "walked" and talked, it seemed his desperate bid to get to the heart of the matter had worked. Dorian was hearing him out, and understanding what he heard.
A slight shrug and roll of his eyes as the other man pointed out his unkempt state. "Listen, it ain't exactly easy to find a good bath spot without any legs to get around on, I'm doin' my best out here," he said, then shook his head wildly as Dorian brought up the asylum. "Oh heeeeeell naw, I ain't settin' foot anywhere NEAR that place. Not for a million bucks. But what happened to me an what I wanted to talk to ya about, well, that's the same thing really. That thing we
Blake Jermyn got in common? Well, it's got a common ENEMY, too. Another nodding gesture of his head, this time in the direction of the Roesler estate. "HE did this to me, and as bad as I look right now, my old man is ten... times... worse..." His voice was cracking with unshed tears at the very thought of it.
Dorian: || This time, staring and listening, Dorian heard reasons why he'd really hear the man out. Understood their common cause all at once. And it did not change his expression in any positive way. The concern on his face shifted to anger, but he'd not give himself away past that very obvious move in emotion. He'd not even look over to focus on Dinah in his peripheral vision. Likely an unpleasant experience for poor Blake as the brunt of that violent shift in emotions likely would feel like a blast of heat to even the less empathetic. He growled quietly, "I am not my neighbour's enemy. That would do me ill service."
But to his sister he'd call, "He is rather confused, poor lad is talking utter nonsense. Give me an hour, and I shall be back. I am going to help him get down the hill and to his home! I needed to go by the shop anyway."
He'd explain to Blake, with pitying condescension, "Come on, lad, up you go. Now listen. We are going to get you cleaned up, and a bite to eat. But you must not ever present yourself like that again. You gave my sister quite a fright, and we cannot have that." Again, not giving the guy much choice apart from trying to batter someone hale as Dorian was, he'd scoop him up again. "For the sake of all that is good, try not to make a spectacle of yourself."
Dorian took a path that gave him as little exposure in Victoriana as possible, which meant through a cemetery, church yard, across stones, all of which Dorian did jogging. Once they were near to people in the area he called Little Edo, he'd hold Blake less like a baby, and more like a drunken friend again. As he walked into the okiya, he'd apologize for the state of his associate and ask that a room and bath be readied for him. And for every vegetarian dish the horrified but polite looking woman could quickly muster be brought out for the young man in such rough shape. Then Dorian sat Blake down on a silken cushion that was going to get just ruined, and situated himself beside him. They were about to test the depths of the sake supply.
Very nice attendants came and offered Blake the accustomed bowl of blossoms floating in water and a towel, and the Englishman said, "Best leave that with him, thank you kindly."
"This was done and Dorian settled himself down, calling after their departing forms,"ありがとうございました
[Arigatōgozaimashita thank you very much]. I have been trying to learn the language, it is beautiful. Now explain." He'd put on a show of very good faith, all considered, and was ready to hear all Blake had to say.
Blake Jermyn just barely managed to hide a grin of triumph as he felt the sudden RAGE course through Dorian. Yeah. THAT'S what he was talking about, that's what he wanted to SEE. Rage was power, and Blake knew that better than anyone. However, the next words that the other man spoke made him deflate a little bit, concern creeping into the victory. Not his neighbor's enemy, huh? Was he actually trying to keep the peace, or just being polite? Well, Blake supposed he'd be finding out sooner than later.
"I, uh, listen, sorry for scarin' ya girl, but it's kinda hard not to be a spectacle without any legs," he murmured, looking down at himself now from his positon dangling from Dorian's arms like a stray cat picked up off the street, slightly abashed. He'd thought he was doing a halfway decent job, managed to find a shirt to wear and everything... "But like, yeah, next time I'll send a note or somethin'. Nobody's spyin' on your mail, right? I can write in code if ya need me to."
The winding, skulking path that Dorian lead them both down was well familiar to Blake, generally choosing such less-travelled roads for his own use as a matter of course. He seemed familiar enough with Little Edo as well, though not with the establishment he soon found himself in, giving sheepish, awkward smiles and little waves to every horrified employee. "Hey, uh, thanks man," he murmured softly, cheeks pinking a bit after so much gawking at his ruined state, "'preciate it... But anyway, where do you want me to fuckin' START, because whooooo boy is there a lot to cover..." A dumbfounded chuckle, a shake of his head. "I guess I should start with the party, huh? The one for new years, at the cabaret? Dunno if you remember me any, but we were both there." He cocked his head, waiting to see if the light of recognition came across Dorian's face. "Might remember Beine better... Tall as the day is long, prettiest glittering blue dress you ever seen, red hair like a strawberry ocean?"
Dorian got a cup while Blake was talking, both of them did, of sake in dainty little shallow cups, and once it was poured, and Dorian had gestured for the bottle to be left. He'd lean over to clink his cup against Blake's before saying anything, toasting in the Western way, then shoot the stuff, and pour again. He'd take a long quiet moment to think, just staring and at length he explained, "I am afraid there is much I do not remember about that evening. Though I was there, to be sure. The owner of the cabaret is my neighbour, and a friend to my sister."
That was all he offered past what he'd shown in his face, but waved an impatient hand at Blake, beckoning him to go on. He was not going to break a hard-won peace for no reason. The urchin could not know how dear the most recent days had been to a man who had counted himself lucky for coming through the crucible of getting past watching what he'd watched. Eating what he ate.
Blake Jermyn was MORE than happy to down the offered sake in a single gulp, but not before lifting the little cup, clinking it gently against Dorian's. "To better fuckin' times than this," he said bitterly, knocking it back, shaking his head. "Yeah, I'd wanna forget that night ever happened too, man, I don't blame ya one bit," he said, shaking his head. "Surprised I'm even tellin' ya this, but... Guess I'm gettin' sick of me an' mine getting fucked over by someone everyone else loves, and nobody knowin' but us." He was staring, resolutely, down at the empty cup, his teeth gritting together as he spoke, his small, pale body shaking, his voice low, caught somewhere between seething and regret.
Deep breath. Square shoulders. Reel it back inside. "So anyway, this Beine. He looks damn near the spitting image of my old man, so much so that I thought he WAS him. And my boy and I, we'd, gotten separated, when we had to leave the new world. I hadn't even realized he'd made it over to Callisto's shores. So you can imagine, I was pretty goddamn stoked to see who I thought was the love of my life, who I thought was gone forever. And... You can imagine how crushed I was when I found out he was a stranger." Another deep, heavy sigh, his hand reaching out for the sake cup again, downing a second pour. "But I thought, no way he could look like that, just like one of the most singularly beautiful and unique faces I've ever clapped eyes on in my life, and not be related, or SOMETHING. Not at least have HEARD of him.... So.... I made the stupid fuckin' mistake of following them home. Thought maybe I could say hi to Beine, see if he could tell me what happened to my boy."
Another deep breath, his hand rubbing down his face. "Of course, Roesler caught me. Caught me and kept me locked up, for an entire week." It didn't seem possible for such fair skin to go paler, but Blake was managing it somehow, turning nearly grey, with just a bit of green around the gills. "He's... Hiding a lot, that Roesler. I-... Guess if you really wanna keep him as a friend, as a neighbor, I probably shouldn't go on..." He was losing steam, shrinking in on himself, eyes locked on the tatami floor as the sake cup shook in his hands.
Dorian poured Blake another when he noticed the empty cup. But not only that, he'd use his own hand to steady Blake's trembling. His vexation had grown by shades as he heard the meandering and strange phrasing. Again it took some moments of staring and considering what it all meant. The strange words and the feverish delivery were distracting. So he'd quietly and rather gently inquired, "I would rather know than not, please, go on."
The entreaty was gentle, and followed by a quiet further, "You are safe here. One of my diver's family recommended this place, her cousin works here." Just then Keiko's cousin would bring out a plate of noodles, a bowl of broth, and some steamed melange of vegetables and rice. Dorian instructed that it all was set before the other man.
Blake Jermyn shrank back at first, seeming to expect Dorian's rage to be directed at /him,/ but when he addressed him in that much gentler tone, assured him he would be safe here, only then did Blake begin to relax again. "Hey, uh, thanks buddy... I mean it, I really do...." Momentary distraction once more as the food came out, those pale blue eyes going wide. "Whoa... REALLY thank you, this is delicious," he said, mouth already slurping down noodles even as he still continued to speak. A few more moments to absolutely inhale some more of those noodles, then he looked back up to Dorian again, took a deep breath.
"Well, in that case... Yeah. He dragged me down to this.... Meat locker thing. Beat the shit out of me. Locked me in there. Every so often he'd come in there to fuck with me, or one of his servents, or... Beine." A shudder rolled down his spine. "Few days in, he straps me down to this, backyard surgery table, and-.... I'll spare ya the details, but after that, my legs were gone. I think... I think he fuckin /cooked/ them." Another heavy shudder, but despite the gruesome subject matter, he still took the moment to wolf down more noodles, along with some of the rice and vegetables.
"Anyway, guy has this, fancy party. DINNER party. Yeah. I know what you're thinking. But what I'm thinking is, it's time to get the fuck up out of dodge, and maybe even find my missing love. So the day comes, and I break out. Run into this dude Sato on the way, you'll know him if you see him by his crazy hair, silver with red tips. Kinda got a creepy vibe, but trust me, this guy's on our side. Damn near got himself killed trying to help me out, and better yet, he told me Roesler was keeping the old man in the basement. Now, apparently they got history, Roesler and my old man... I don't know it all or understand it much because... Why would you take one of the sweetest men on earth and... And-...." Another deep breath before the tears threatened to flow, another cup of sake down the hatch. "He still had his legs, but that's about all I could say for him. Beat to shit, broken bones, one eye swollen shut, and.... His tongue.... Gone...." At that point one or two tears did escape. "Got him with Sato now, he's fixing the poor bastard up, but... yeah. That's about all I got for ya. Sorry if that ruined ya friendship with ya neighbor."
Dorian sat down the sake cup, because he would have broken it. Then all at once he closed his eyes and tried to figure out what to do. Dorian's feelings were always big and plain around him, he was an untrained telepath. One who spent his time pretending he was ordinary, because that was hard enough. Not as hard as being the exceptional creatures his siblings were. And usually less taxing on the psyche. He'd think a few long hard moments, fists clenching and unclenching. Eyes yet closed, he'd ask, "You are saying that he tortured and tenderized you for his dinner party? And that the silver haired boy helped you? Where was the rather hulking man he accompanied? As I recall that young man was held fast to his companion."
Something he'd also tried to imagine he'd not seen along with the long parade of horrors the lead him through tribulation to a heavenly end. But it was best to get all of the information he needed right now, pinching the bridge of his nose against the fact that he was not only right about Roesler, but that he had good reason to suspect the lanky German-seeming personage. Perhaps this was the price for a few celestial days without so much as a second thought about the man.
Blake Jermyn felt that rage wash over him, amplify and magnify his own, and all of a sudden, the plates and cups were rattling on the table, shuddering as if caught in a tiny earthquake. Seemed he and Dorian had a lot more in common than he first realized... Hopefully they wouldn't cause too catastrophic of a chain reaction. Taking another deep breath and reaching for more drink, he nodded. "Yeah. Exactly that. Tortured me for a week straight, and my old man, I don't even KNOW how long..." A shudder, his bright blue eyes wincing shut. "Yeah, silver haired guy... I don't know nothin' about him havin' a big buddy, I only saw him for like, a minute or two, but that minute or two was life or death for me. Maybe that was the only time he ditched his buddy.... Wait.... You saw him there? You were THERE?" His eyes went wide, and he dropped his chopsticks in shock, sending them clattering to the ground. "Ohhhhh shit, this is pretty fuckin' awkward already without you findin' out you probably ate some of me...."
Dorian held up both hands, and calmly, he'd expected this reaction, and quietly but sternly insisted, "Do not make a scene. Shhh. You are in no danger from me. And I did not consume you. I found the whole affair rather... distasteful and drank the dinner I brought with me that night. Cognac." No need to mention what he'd eaten and made a show of. Thankfully he didn't seem to be suffering too much from Mad Windgrace disease for having consumed it.
Dorian would pour himself another sake, down it, top them both off, and take his turn to explain more, "I had my doubts about that man since I learned what he considered fine dining. Given how well placed he is on the island we should, both of us, be very careful. I am sorry for what happened to you, but you should take a few days, clean yourself up, repair. Find a more dignified method of locomotion. I will help you with this insofar as I can. You can have a room here for as long as they will keep you. I shall send one of my staff to check on you. Please do not make me regret this. I am called Dorian. Dorian Windgrace, and you?" He'd hold out the hand that was empty of cup in offer to shake.
Blake Jermyn just laughed then, a little hysterical, a little relieved. "Oh, well, uh, probably for the best. I think you can get diseases from that anyway, besides it bein' just plain nasty." A grin, hopefully diffusing some of the tension in the air, disrupt the telepathy-telekinesis feedback loop. Gratefully downing more sake before shifting back to the food, he nodded. "Yeah, I don't envy you bein' stuck next to that rat bastard one bit, and I can see why you'd wanna be real careful, especially when he keeps makin' eyes at ya girl like that... But now that you know what he's really capable of, you'll be on the lookout, you can stop her from ending up like my old man before it happens, alright?" A hopeful smile. It might have been too late for himself, but at least he could stop the starry-eyed twins from suffering the same fate.
"Shit, man, I really can't thank you enough," he said, eyes going wide as dinner plates as Dorian offered so much generosity. "You're really goin' above and beyond, here, all I really wan
Blake Jermyn was just, for someone to believe me. For at least one other person to be on our side..." There was something plaintive in his voice then, that spoke of old pains, old scars. "Like, anything you need from me? You just ask and I'll make it happen, shit, least I can fuckin' do after all this..." A low whistle, a shake of his head. "But, yeah. Name's Blake, Blake Jermyn. Nice to meet ya properly there, Dorian." A grin as he held out his battered and bruised hand, giving Dorian's hand a surprisingly firm shake despite the injuries. "Friends?"
Dorian made enough money for his father in one day with managing the dredging up and transport of aether to have a different echelon of worries from a common man. But despite their difference in age, in time, Dorian was also glad to have someone understand that what Roesler did was wrong, and not something to act so normal about. Unlikeliest pair of cohorts perhaps the isle had seen in a long time. He shook, and did not try to crush it, given the injuries, then explained, "Friends. Once you have bathed, for sure. For the gods' sakes, Mr. Jermyn, let me carry you up once you have eaten your fill." He'd take back his hand to pour another for Blake, and ruffle his hand through his hair while he drank down the sip from his little cup, then explain, unable to get past just how bloody and dishevelled the poor man was, "What I want most is to see you out the other side of this intact, more or less. Do not hesitate to mention to Mr. Roesler that you are a friend of mine, though it is my sincere hope you stay away from him. When the time comes, perhaps we can see some restitution, some end to that particular threat. I do rather mislike the way he looks upon my sister."
More than that Dorian hated that his sister had called off hunting season on that man. Thus the elder twin had to tread very carefully; rich people problems, living in mansions beside huge creeps. Having huge creep contests.
Blake Jermyn beamed as their hands came together, as Dorian confirmed that they were, indeed, embarking on a brand new, if unlikely, friendship. "Oh, yeah, I guess I COULD really use a bath, huh..." A small laugh as he looked down at his mangled body. Really, he didn't know why the guy was so insistent, he'd only just managed to dunk himself in a pond long enough to clean off yesterday! Just because his wounds had already started bleeding again didn't mean he wasn't MOSTLY clean, they were just, really bleedy, that was all...
Speak of the devil, he'd already managed to polish off the remainder of the food, and most of the drink as well. "Damn, that was good...." A soft, wistful sigh, part of him yearning for more food, the rest of him not wanting to push his luck. "Yeah, I ain't goin' NEAR Roesbitch now that I got what's mine away from him, not until it's time to burn that fucker to the ground." A flash of deadly fury in his eyes, for only a brief instant before it's pushed away, subsumed again. "But yeah. For now that bastard is really best avoided, good fuckin' luck bein' his neighbor an' all, do noooot envy ya there." He stuck out his tongue, made a face. "For now, ya wanna lay low. Act like nothin' happening, like you really are best buddies. Keep an eye on him. Watch your back. Watch /her/ back. And above all, look for weak points. And when you see one, well.... If you decide to do something about him, really do something, you know who to call." A slow, bitter smile.
Dorian moved to pick Blake up again, and get him out of the establishment's main room, and up to somewhere quieter. Where he'd be given a place to sleep that was clean and safe. Not as a prisoner, though, if the man wanted to leave. Which he might not just yet, since Dorian offered, "I would like to know that I can find you here long enough to have someone come take a look at you. Bring you some proper clothes. Figure something out for how you can freely make you way around again. As a favour to a friend? I can imagine no better start to vengeance than getting yourself in order."
The simplest and sweetest softest member of the Windgrace family was the one he'd found. One who mentioned, "Being able to do what you did down there, should help you in getting around, ultimately. Once you have stopped actively bleeding and remembered rest. Get word to your friend to meet you here, but none shall take you from this place without my learning of it." The simple lavish loveliness of rice paper walls and kind hosts were what Blake had coming to him in Dorian's protection. And food! Vegetarian food, the likes of which the Englishman had been enjoying since his dinner with Roesler.