INT- Murphy’s pub, to EXT- Seiiki district meadow
Ivan Ruslanovich laughed, "And a fireplace with big abstract painting above it." he added. He shook his head, having no idea what she meant either, "Not a noose, assuming." he replied. He raised his brows alike as she spoke, "Oh? I hear protestants are strange... maybe he is one." he suggested, "Eh, you know, like said, he priest, but not scholarly from rumors.. is no problem." he tapped his chin, "Is less of... his behavior, and more of his oath. So, I have no problem with those who take pleasure, but respect, respect is important. Take your hat off when you enter room, speak with kindness, sort of thing. When you take oath, you take oath to add and prohibit certain.... eh... activities." he said, sounding out each syllable of the word activities slowly, "To violate that, is disrespect to the oath. But, not know what oath he took, so I'll not judge. Though perhaps... I should stop spreading rumors I have not seen with my own eyes." he pointed out, scolding himself. "Are you religious? Or... do you believe? Is the better question.”
Arix Thunderhawk (arixian.diesel) shifted in her chair as Ivan spoke, rolling over the words in her brain like so many marbles on a hot skillet. They shifted through the cracks of her mind, finding the grooves there and falling into place. "Mmm, I see what you're saying. I do believe priests are allowed relationships now," she said with a thoughtful tap to her chin as she looked up, searching the ceiling but not really 'seeing' it. "Again, I couldn't say. To each their own. As long as they hurt no one in their wake," she took another sip and then nodded. "Religious, in a sense. More like faithful I suppose, though I don't go to church. I don't feel there is a need to."
Dorian (alexandros.lycomedes) came to get lunch from the pub to supplement what he'd get at home. Afterall, he had shop work to get back to. He was whistling a merry tune as he strolled in his well-cut and assembled suit. This song stopped as he broke open the door and cast silver-grey eyes around the place.
Ivan Ruslanovich Vancheskov (ivanvancheskov) raised a brow, "Are they? I don't know that applies to..." he waved his hand vaguely, "Bah, k chertu" he decided, roughly translating to 'fuck it' a sentiment that would be conveyed in his tone. "We are similar in that too. Faith can give hope and strength when its all you have left. Chuch... is supplement." the door opened and he glanced over his shoulder, raising a hand in a passive wave, "Zdravstvuyte" he called over, turning back to Arix, "Funny that I take care of place I view as such. But... some work, and it will be pretty for those that need it."
Arix Thunderhawk (arixian.diesel) lifted her head from her drink to see Dorian and her smile brightened. "Hello," she greeted him. "Come on and have a pint or.. uh whatever weird smoky alcohol you're drinking these days," she teased. "This is Ivan, he's new to town. Does groundswork at the chapel up the way," she gestured. "Dorian is a friend of mine," she instructed Ivan. "Been very busy lately?" She asked the tow-headed WIndgrace.
Dorian (alexandros.lycomedes) caught sight of a particular tall woman just as she looked his way, and it broke his face open into a big grin: boyish and dimplesome. Shaking his head he'd walk her way and announce in an urbane English accent that spoke of money and upper echelons, "Why Mistress Arix, a pleasure to meet you once more, though it seems you rather have my number. You must know by now if you care for me not to purchase your next round, stop me now."
As he neared her, he'd hold out a hand to shake, having determined this, though uncommonly given to womenfolk was likely her preference over the courtly bows that usually gave him away as much older than he looked. Only in her near proximity would he turn his gaze to the man she was with and beam his smile that way under golden curls, and offer the gentleman's way, "Pleasure to meet you. Working with the church, hm?" It tickled part of his brain to hear this and he'd work out how as he remarked to the tall woman once more, "There is always something to do. And not half of it as much fun as I would like, in my business." Easily said for a rich boy who had to work at all, meaning in many cases leaving someone else to mind the shop while he strolled to the pub.
Ivan Ruslanovich Vancheskov (ivanvancheskov) looked somewhat uncertain, clearly noting that Dorian was among the upper class, though Arix's introduction would cause him to relax a bit, "Da chelovek, been keeping the grounds. Doubt you mistook me for a priest." he added with a slightly cheeky, if reserved grin. "Pleasure." he repeated, the word sounding foreign on his tongue. In stark contrast to Dorian, Ivan was rugged, rough around the edges, and most certainly lower class. The contrast was striking up close. "What is it that you do? You ah.... banker, or something?" he asked, his accent thick but understandable.
Arix Thunderhawk (arixian.diesel) would allow Dorian to explain what it was he does. Even Arix wasn't entirely sure what all the Windgrace shop did. As usual, she didn't poke her nose into too much politicking when it came to the island. Such things, if one spent much time with her, seemed beneath her somehow and she was more concerned with action and truth than anything monetary. "I believe Ivan has the next round for me, but maybe next time, huh? I haven't seen you in a while so you must be busy," she said with a laugh. It would seem the tone in the room was light and humorous, Ivan and she had been sharing a laugh over a drink for the past half hour or so and her cheeks were still rosy for it. "Yeah, say that's the first time I've seen you in a suit isn't it? A far cry from the kimono," she pronounced the word correctly this time "you typically wear. Everything alright?"
Dorian (alexandros.lycomedes) was thick compared to most of his family, but even he could hear the presumed Russian accent coming off of the man and that finished connecting dots in his curly head. He'd laugh, at both that and Arix' commentary, leaning on the bar and calling to the person behind it that he had fixed his silvery eyes on, "Monsieur, double of that armagnac if you still have it. Thank you kindly. Up, no rocks. And I shall pick up both their tabs in total, if you will." One of his entirely unsubtle winks punctuated, doubled for his asking permission from the other two.
Only then would he turn to the dark haired woman in her coveralls, boggling a bit at the attire on her, in turn. His head went to a full 45 degree tilt taking her in, and he answered, "We import and sell fine musical accouterments, records, players for them, instruments, and have access to a number of catalogs from Europe as well. You may have seen the name on the ships that come into the harbor a few times each week. Well, if you spend as much time near the sea as I do, you would." He'd looked between Arix' emerald eyes and the red-haired man as he spoke, giving a further explanation to the woman he'd encountered some few times now. And he clarified further, "I am afraid this attire is far more usual, you have only happened upon me in my leisure hours, Mistress."
Peering Ivan's way, he ventured, "You would not happen to have a past in manufacturing, would you?" He was a cocksure six foot two, grinning at the man with perhaps the smugness or with the general ease afforded him by long survival, and all of that spent in relative wealth.
Ivan Ruslanovich Vancheskov (ivanvancheskov) gave a nod, "Da, I do." he admitted, leaning back in his chair almost lazily. He was most certainly not going to pass up an opportunity to drink with someone who knew callouses on their hands as well as he did. It was a rare pleasure these days. He gave a brief glance to Arix, "What is... 'kimono?'" he asked, brow furrowed in confusion and curiosity. "Is it like... uh... like... what is it?" he asked, not even having a guess as to what a kimono would be. He raised both brows at Dorian as he picked up the tabs. The bartender and Ivan would exchange a brief look, at which point Ivan would shrug. He paid in advance, but Dorian didn't need to know that. A tip for the bartender in one way or another he supposed. "Musical accout-- ac.... blyat, that is not a real word, you are fucking with me." he scoffed, mostly in jest. He shrugged, "Not much time spent by the sea. I prefer the garden." he stated, another lie. There was no way he'd admit that the pain that wracked him was too intense to stare out across the sea, that the longing for a home that no longer existed blended into the mist of the azure waves with such intensity that were he any weaker willed it would drive him to his knees. The garden was a preference, nothing more. Perhaps he'd even convince himself of that in time. His brow arched slightly at the word Mistress again but he didn't speak on it, "Da... I do. Worked in factory one eight seven back home. Many of us did. Why?" he asked, with a slightly narrowed expression that indicated he thought he might be being made fun of or that there was some ruse afoot.
Arix Thunderhawk (arixian.diesel) looked between the two idly as they drank, taking in another lush sip of her ale as they spoke. When Ivan asked about a kimono, she explained briefly. "Like a ... a robe of sorts I think. The Japanese wear them a lot. You may have seen some wearing them," she made a gesture around her middle as if wrapping fabric around it, one side over the other. "They're comfortable from what I gather. But I haven't had a chance to wear one myself." She explained with that same, friendly smile that suggested 'maybe someday' she would try one. She laughed when Ivan sassed about the word 'accoutrement'. "It's a French word," she looked to Dorian. "One language at a time, please," she laughed softly, perhaps teasingly at the Windgrace. "I've had to order tools and the like through Windgrace establishment. Very reasonable and helpful," she said, nodding as she gave the place her review. "It didn't seem to take long, either, thankfully. Had someone with a broken bathroom sink and none of my tools fit it so I had to get the uh... the standard kind. I only had metric," she shook her head. It felt like so long ago that she repaired the bathroom at the Cabaret. Had it been only a few weeks? Again, she remarked silently that time seemed to fly on the island.
Dorian (alexandros.lycomedes) was both from an island, and dwelt near to coasts and rivers not so far from the ocean, and had served in the royal navy twice, the sea was part of home. It was nigh impossible to imagine life without, for him. His easy transition between French and English also came from a long life of courtly relations in the homeland. Upon Arix's urging, he'd apologise before addressing what he had to say to the apparent Russian, "I beg your pardon, I meant you no ill will. It is only that I have heard of you, Mister Ivan. Our house girl, Vedis mentioned you, and I had hoped I should get to meet you in person. Come down to the shop when you are not otherwise occupied, and we can talk business. We've work for able bodied men, and lead the island on pay and support for our workers as a matter of pride. And productivity." He punctuated with a genial grin and then turned to look at Arix with his brows slightly raised as if to silently question if he'd done a better job that time.
And to remark to her, grinningly, "Good to see you, looking so hale and... bloody useful. Actually ki-means wear and mono means thing. The word breaks down in the Japanese language to wearing-thing. Kimono. It is a large part of the traditional garb. And when in Seiki..."
Ivan Ruslanovich Vancheskov (ivanvancheskov) looked to Arix, still looking confused at her explanation, "I've not seen. Maybe I will." he then snorted, "Ah... french. I see. Made up word from made up language." he teased with a slightly goofy grin, "Is like Spanish got drunk and tried to speak german." - A comparison that probably didn't much a whole lot of sense, but one that amused him anyway. His ears twitched. Windgrace. He'd heard that name a few times before. Sure enough, Dorian mentioned Vedis. "Ah! So you're one of the Windgraces that people talk about. Yes... Vedis is a kind, and strong woman, helped me find my way to the church. She spoke highly of you and your family." he stated. He still looked a bit skeptical, "Da... I can come have a chat. I cannot abandon duties at the church, I will warn now. But... perhaps we can reach something." he reasoned. He then raised both brows, "Wearing thing... blin, so is like clothes? But all clothes.... bah, you know, I will have to see. All these... fancy things... Japenese, french... I am a much more simple man, tovarishch. I know little of these... seiki.. things.. but I get by well enough anyway."
Arix Thunderhawk (arixian.diesel) seemed to be enjoying herself, listening to the two chat and hearing Ivan fight with language. It wasn't condescending or mean-spirited, but friendly just as they had been when she invited him over for a drink. Her eyes scanned the area outside briefly, as she was wont to do on occasion, before turning back to the two gentlemen on either side of her. "Is she still around? You must be keeping her under key, Dorian. I've been meaning to speak with her myself on a few things," of what, she wouldn't say naturally; it would be rude to pry into a person's business anyway. Arix felt somewhat at ease with both parties despite their differences, and it felt somehow right to do so. She was friend to all on the island, so far at least. That said, she looked up to Dorian and quirked a brow. "I've also been meaning to speak to you too," her voice took on a note of gravity there, but it wasn't so heavy to imply doom just yet. Then, her head turned to Ivan and she gave him a nod. "Give it time, you'll fit in. Ironically, the entire place is filled with mis-fits of some kind or another," she teased.
Dorian (alexandros.lycomedes) had gotten his nice cup of amber fluid, laid down several pound note bills, and lifted it to the pair, "Well, what a fortuitous meeting. Perhaps it was the fates who put the wind in my sails to come by this place." He'd sip from it, curious about what Arix could have for him, and also try to calculate how to not sound condescending toward the Russian. Once he'd put that mouthful away, he'd pipe up, "This island is a wonderful place for misfits. There is opportunity, character, and a damn fine landscape. The wilds are dangerous, or they can be, I hear, but the close forested air... it is top notch. Makes one appreciate the sea breeze again. I am sure you shall get along very well Mister Ivan. You look to be a strapping fellow, and there is plenty to be done. Even if you do not wish to work with our family, no harm done. This isle is teeming with opportunity as befits a frontier. Is that not right, Mistress Arix?" His last was spoken, eying Arix with an air that was just shy of conspiratorial.
Ivan Ruslanovich Vancheskov (ivanvancheskov) shook his head but smiled at Arix, "Seems like. Time will tell." he reasoned. He'd incline his head back and listen as Dorian spoke, "Every man should learn to love the land." he agreed, "Mother nature is a beautiful painter. And I find... beauty and danger... two sides of the same coin. Like the curve on a knife, a roaring wave, or the darkness in the forest. Beautiful... and deadly" he reasoned, shifting upright, "Sounds like you two have conversation pending. I should get back to work anyway. As you say... plenty to be done."
Arix Thunderhawk (arixian.diesel) seemed to smile at Ivan warmly as he explained his care for nature. There was true poetry there and it warmed the woman to hear it. Such a thing couldn't be forced from a person, as it was with most art. "Don't let us keep you," she said finally as she nodded. "I'll have to check up on you at the Church at some point, too. I think they've got a pew that's loose or something I need to look at," her eyes remained on Ivan's face though she kept them from his direct gaze. She would neither agree nor disagree with his assessment that they had a chat that was due. "As he said, the frontier is ripe with fruit for the plucking, so to speak. Do be careful if you go exploring, my friend."
Dorian (alexandros.lycomedes) hadn't meant to chase the poor fellow off, but neither did he have a real proper conception of what a working man's life must be like. Only ideas he'd imagined, read about, seen others live. He'd give the man a wave with two fingers at his brow saluting casually, and purl by way of parting, "Jolly true, that, Mister Ivan. Thank you for that piece of wisdom. Do not be a stranger."
He had nothing to say about the church, and would not. His temple was not made of Christly things. He'd sip his rocks glass of brandy, thereafter, given an uncertain starting point for jumping into the next bit of the conversation.
Ivan Ruslanovich Vancheskov (ivanvancheskov) smiled to Arix, "I would enjoy that very much. And yes... the church could use a bit of... eh... 'elbow grease'. I'm sure. If not, I'm sure we can pass the time. You both have a good evening." he bid them, stepping out around the stool. His flatcap was working gloves returned to his hand and as he stepped outside, his flatcap returned to his head. He'd move on down the way, hands folding onto his suspenders. He didn't look back to the other two, didn't have a reason to. Curiosity might pull at him, but he embodied the phrase that had let his family survive for so long: that, is none of my business. And indeed it wasn't, and he'd probably live longer so long as he kept it that way.
Arix Thunderhawk (arixian.diesel) watched as Ivan moved away and bid his goodbye. "See you around," she called after him. Even as he might depart she narrowed her eyes at the spot he once occupied as she thought quietly. "Interesting folk," she said quietly and then turned to Dorian. "This isn't the mill," she said with a teasing grin on her lips. "But I have been meaning to seek you out and speak with you about what we discussed last time." Her tone was semi-serious, quiet, candid just between the two of them. "Shall we take a walk elsewhere?"
Dorian (alexandros.lycomedes) went and hopped up onto the stool the Russian had wrmed up, having followed the man out with his eyes. He'd give his blunt appraisal, "Fellow seems like he could be put to better use than-- well-- he can find us. Or any number of opportunities I am sure. Oh, sure, as you say."
He'd knock back the remainder of his glass and then stroll to the door, beckoning her to come along, because, as he said, "I know just the place." He'd already paid, and given his frequent strolls and rides about town, a place to have a nice talk away from the prying ears of the general populace came freely to mind. "It is not too far, on my word as an Englishman."
Arix Thunderhawk (arixian.diesel) finished off her ale and took to the door after Dorian. "You lead the way, I'm sure you know some decent places.
Arix Thunderhawk (arixian.diesel) took her time winding her way after Dorian. The town seemed quiet for now at least, no one really paid them any heed. Once they made it to the quiet stream, she let out a sigh. "Are you alright?" She looked over the man, her tone held an edge of true concern. Arix felt the need to get that out of the way, getting down to brass-tacks first, as she was known to do.
Dorian (alexandros.lycomedes) strolled away from Victoriana to the Japanese district where a pair of tall Europeans were more out of place, but also readily left to their own devices as likely tourists, or visitors. He'd stop by a stone path over the stream that led to the ravine that split the isle apart, whose rushign waters made low conversational tones more than enough to be quiet. Once there he'd turn in a circle in place, and gloat, "Great spot, is it not? And yes, my friend. I am rather well, to be quite honest. Too well, perhaps? I hope that the same is true of you, it certainly appears that way. As regards the gentleman we spoke of before, I have a few pieces of information I would impart to you. Number one, a boy in a terrible state came to my house, escaped from his. His legs were quite gone and he was rather certain that Mr. Roeler had eaten them. So it seems not all his feasts are so reputable. Furthermore... well.... I intend to see what the old boy is made of. We are set to duel to first blood." The way he waggled his brows after dropping this information would explain that he was rather certain of how it would play out. Afterall the tall bespectacled man was a willowy sort. Did not have the look of an athlete.
Arix Thunderhawk (arixian.diesel) lofted her brows. "Ah that must be Blake. I met him the other day. Said something about a landmine, but I can usually tell when someone lies," she said, folding her arms. One did not watch humans for eons and not detect a liar regardless of their ability to see within. "Yes, I had feared as much. I imagine the poor urchin probably sold them. He is in dire straits but seems friendly and happy despite it all," her brow knit as she watched Dorian and her head shook. "I was tasked with cleaning the bookstore," she frowned. "Yes that one. The bookstore owner was taken to the asylum, of course," her lips pursed as she kept her direct gaze out of Dorian's eyes just then. "My first thought was to attempt to get into the asylum and determine the means, but that means going through Roesler," she let out a sigh through her nose. "Which, after what you've described, I am hesitant to do. What is it you are fighting about? Do you think that's wise?"
Dorian (alexandros.lycomedes) did not think so hard about why her gaze floated at a certain point. He was not so sure about his own motivations and what of them should be spoken to, or how to even phrase it in fewer than a thousand words and some hair-tearing, without feeling unmanned. Thus he'd shrug one suited shoulder, not caring for the grass, and wildflower detritus his shoes and slacks would pick up, he did not attend his laundry, then reply, "I would not go near that asylum, if I could help it. I suppose worrying about one's own madness might contribute to that, and I am certain you do not know what I mean on that count. You have met Blake? A landmine he said?" He'd loose a whistle in ascending and then descending tone, before continuing, "And... well... it may sound silly, but you get a sense of a person when you fight them. Something truer than words and mundane deeds. Swordplay is it's own language." He had no way of knowing if she had any reason to understand the first thing about melee, most women he knew did not, thus he mansplained it, and added on, as if an afterthought, which it was, "Vedis is not under any sort of lock, on our part. I am sure our house keeps her busy, but I suppose it is easy for me to say seeing her is common when she brings me my breakfast. I assure you though, she has time to herself. What she gets up to during it, well that is not my affair."
Arix Thunderhawk (arixian.diesel) pulled a hand through her hair to keep it out of her face. She hadn't time that morning to put it into any kind of style and thus it hung quite an artful mess in a low pony-tail at the back of her neck. It reminded her that she should cut it at some point as it was getting in the way. She shook her head and let out a sigh. "I don't believe it," she mumbled quietly about Blake and his legs. "Even Hector, the barkeep, doubted him. Regardless," she waved her hand dismissively. "I get a sinking suspicion the man is tied to this murder somehow but I cannot say. Just a gut feeling, you know?" Her voice was crisp as she whispered, far from the usual, rumbling, velvety alto she typically held. "If he isn't then it's something else, but .... why is the man locked away in the asylum and not on trial? Isn't that typically how things are done?" She pursed her full lips until they were very nearly a flat line. Her eyes ventured up into the tree as a breeze blew through it and the rustling of the leaves calmed her nerves a touch. "Vedis and I have met before, I am sure. That is all I wanted to talk to her about, really it is no rush of course. I was simply making conversation, then." She cut him a soft smile after, hoping quietly that not every one of their meetings had to be under such dire circumstances every time. She would fold her arms again as he explained about swordplay. "Is it now?" She asked, lofting her brows and doing her level best to seem ignorant on it.
Dorian (alexandros.lycomedes) took the remark about the help they'd hired at face value, and instead addressed the topmost topic, nodding his blond head, "I do not know whta to say about it other than... you can see something fundamental in what a person guards, how they attack. If of course they know the first thing about swinging a blade. And I have had my share of practice, navy and all." Other weapons, firearms and magical creations had become a part of modern warfare, but Dorian was old-fashioned. Plain old. Still the royal naval officers of the modern day yet carried swords. He'd explain further, "We stop when one of us draws blood. I suppose I hope to show him what I am about. I suspect he considers me someone easily trifled with. If the fellow from the book store is in the asylum, well, perhaps you could when you see the man ask him about it. It cannot hurt, can it? A grisly crime scene and a potential crazed murderer in the care of one who is much less crazed, but surely capable of murder... if nothing else you might get some sort of read on him. Roesler has no reason to suspect you, does he?" Dorian was not great at intrigue, nor schemes, so he kept his fairly simple. Fight and find out, having openly declared distaste.
Arix Thunderhawk (arixian.diesel) rubbed at her face as he explained, trying to contain her grin. Any martial style and weapon Arix had instilled in her upon her creation. She was not born, she was forged by her father. When he circled back around to Roseler, she shook her head. "No, he and I are on good terms, as far as I know," she said quietly, kicking at something in the grass idly. "I haven't seen him since.... well since that night," she gestured toward that strange house she had been invited to. "No, I daresay he would not think much of me repairing something at the asylum or ingratiating myself somehow," she frowned. The thought caused the bolt of her jaw to flex as her teeth ground together. "Something has to break at the asylum first though," just then she let go an impish sort of grin. She wasn't implying anything, of course not. "Regardless, I've got a distinct impression that he's attached somehow. I just need to either talk to the man or Roesler himself," she said with a sigh. Her eyes then looked into his briefly and she changed subjects, somewhat. "You seem troubled, I cannot put my finger on it. I mean, aside from all this talk of Roesler. He seems to cause some of your trouble but is not the bane of it. Are you sure things are alright at home? I apologize for having to leave early the other day. I would have liked to stay,"
Dorian (alexandros.lycomedes) renewed his smile, and tried not to gulp. He was not being entirely forthcoming, but he could not exactly talk about what was bothering him. What he could do was explain, "No, I am not troubled, truly not. It is well that you left when you did, I am afraid it was not... one od my brother's fun drunks. I am preoccupied with family business, could not balance the ledgers last night until very late. I had made a stupid error across columns, transposing numbers. Slept very little, I am afraid." It was not a lie, but neither was it the full truth: that he was something of a lich, starting to feel the need for renewal of the rites that kept him alive. And out of decency, or some sense of honour he could not very well tell her about anyoen else's true nature as it was just not the done thing. He could insist, however out of place his concern for her was, "Just do be careful. I think the man is wily, and more than he seems. Like an impossible character in a fairytale. Formidable as you seem, for all your statuesque form, I would not like to see you harmed."
Arix Thunderhawk (arixian.diesel) eyed him, raising a single brow as he explained he was just fine. She didn't seem to buy it but she would let it go and not press Dorian further. He was about the only person on the island she could speak candidly with about such things and she didn't want to turn him away by insulting him. So, she let that lie where he put it despite the fact she obviously didn't believe him. "I see," she said quietly. "That is unfortunate. Drystan, for all his legend, seems like a troubled soul as well," that was putting it as diplomatically as she could. She had hoped, secretly, he was more like Dorian. "Roesler does seem to be putting himself into a role, that is true. But do not worry over-much about me, my friend," she put a hand to the side of his bicep in a reassuring and friendly gesture. "I haven't gone around the world this many times and not known when to back out of something, or whatever the saying is," she said with a soft laugh. Her hand dropped then and she let it fall to her side with a soft slap against her tool belt, causing the items within to jingle slightly. "If you insist, then I will take your word that you are alright. I know I cannot offer you much, but if you need anything I hope you will let me know,"
Dorian (alexandros.lycomedes)'s smile that broke through at her sincere concern was not the face of a business, not a socialite. It wrinkled the corners of his eyes, though it didn't not break through to toothsome. He'd look at her hand on his arm, and chuckle, shaking his head, "Forgive me, but there is family business I simply cannot speak to. And some I can. The four of us together here, out from our parents' shadows here, on our own, it is new. We are all of us learning and we are fortunate to have one another. I cannot imagine simply being on my own, making it as you are doing. But I like knowing where I stand with you. I am glad to have a friend who sees something troubling in the man. I have been trying to help poor Mr. Jermyn- that is Blake get back on his feet, so to speak. Picking up the pieces Roesler left him in. I don't think he knows I have the boy. I am rather certain that his repair and renewal are his best means of avenging himself on the man." He spoke of Blake as if he was half a child-but Dorian did not look much older. Apart from eyes that showed what fixed spot in time he was, silvery mirrors that had reflected back centuries worth of days.
Arix Thunderhawk (arixian.diesel) shook her head. "That's why I won't pry," she said quietly. "I know you have your reasons, as everyone does," she folded her arms again and watched his face as it changed, speaking about Blake's situation. "You are a kind soul to take him in and assist. He seems a good sort and affable," she nodded. "I am also glad to have someone to speak with on such things. I feel... tasked with investigation. While that doesn't seem the proper course for a handiman at first glance, think about the concept of the 'repeat customer'," she joked. "Can't have someone spreading blood and gore constantly," she laughed then, a true laugh that sounded like the epitome of bright warmth and joy. It had the ability to fill those who hear it with a sense of wholesomeness and brotherhood.
Dorian (alexandros.lycomedes) held out his hand to her in the spirit of the brotherhood and the ebullience that came with it, to shake, offering, "I thank you for your discretion and your candor. More than that for your friendship, which iw as delighted to hear you declare, by the by! Next time, let us not have it be a chance meeting, but one on purpose. It is enough that you are a striking woman to look at, in shape and loveliness. And I suspect, given what you've said here today that you work altogether too much." She was afterall taking on more investigative work atop her presumed full time job. He enjoyed the company of formidable women though, preferred them, given Dinah being the tastemaker and high watermark.
Arix Thunderhawk (arixian.diesel) would clasp his hand and hold it firmly. Not so taut that it would strain, but enough to speak on her seemingly mortal strength. "Oh, yes of course." She paused, feeling something within that skin-to-skin contact. It was similar to when he had first opened up to her, seeing images that were not hers dancing in her brain. This was not imagery but sensation. She took it in stride and a smile cut across her face again. "Oh," she rolled her eyes. "You're the second man to compliment me today on such." At least Arix had the decency to blush at it both times. It wasn't that she had never heard it before, it just boggled her mind how she didn't seem to be what one might consider 'up on fashion' yet she was still complimented. Perhaps times were changing again. Where men once would have worshipped her as a Boudica, modern men seemed to have 'evolved' from that mentality long ago. "I do seem to work a lot, but there is always work to be done," her hand would release his finally, the warmth and perhaps surprising softness of it departing.
Dorian (alexandros.lycomedes) had not been in a rush to take his hand away, and that alone surprised him. But her warmth and something he could not put a finger on, reassured him. Afterward, he reached into his jacket pocket for a cigarette and a his lighter, as he informed her, "More men than that think it Mistress Arix. They just haven't the nerve to say it aloud. Who would put themself willingly at the business end of your wrench? Ahahaha" He was sure she made it to many a man's fantasy based on her proportions and height, though. He'd heard all sorts of epithets over the years for a comely woman with curves and uncommon height, none of which he'd repeat to a friend. "If you will forgive me, I should get back to the shop before closing time. Send a note round, tells me where to contact you, would you?"
Afterall, she knew where he lived and worked. Her job was more mobile, and he hadn't athe foggiest notion where she lived.
Arix Thunderhawk (arixian.diesel) shook her head but snickered regardless. She could spin yarns the length of Callisto itself on all the things she had been cat-called in her lifetime. But, another time perhaps. "I don't doubt it," was all she said. "Regardless, thank you for taking a walk with me. You know, if we're seen more often together, it might become part of gossip, so, think on that," she wagged a finger at him thoughtfully. She wasn't wrong. People talked. A lot. Their first meeting probably went under the radar, but this one was more visible and not done inside Murphy's where anyone could have a relatively normal conversation. "I'm at the boarding house for now. Eventually I do plan on getting a place of my own, but we shall see. I haven't yet settled myself into living her on a permanent basis but it would seem others might," she joked again, talking on all of the work she had and the investigation she was taking on. "Take care, Dorian. Keep yourself safe."
Dorian (alexandros.lycomedes) lit up and backing away so as not to billow smoke at her, explained, "People will always talk. Nothing to be done for that. Sort of comes with my name, too. If that is a circus you do not care for, you have to tell me. I forget that it happens, and try to pretend that it does not. Only way to live, really. It was rather a nice stroll." He was a lifelong aristocrat, if no one was talking about you, you were doing it wrong. "Gods grant you good morrows, my friend."
Had had not said god. A tell about his own faith, perhaps. One that did not seem so very English to be monotheistic. He'd wink one grey eye at her, in an expression that could never be called subtle, then smoking turn to head back to the shop.