nysalogs | (open + closed in tags)

Who: Dorian Pavus (

flashystyle) & you!
When: The week post-attack
Where: The Institute & Olympian Streets
Warning(s): Very tired would-be scientist doing his best

I. The Institute

[The Institute's most prestigious scholars working tirelessly to produce a cure sounds very inspiring on paper. One might imagine careful, clean environments with all neatly organized ingredients across their work stations. They may even go on to say that their researchers must have the most capable, cleanest, well-manicured hands for the job.

This is not the case for Dorian, nor his work station. The laboratory may have started clean, but it's long since deteriorated into the space of a man who has been taking advantage of the 8am to 4am hours since all this bombing business began. Unlabeled bottles are littered across the counters with no indicators as to what they are any longer, books are left open on dog eared pages far too close to the former, and stray notes have been made ineligible by stains of Orbiters know what. There's ever a hole eaten through the counter that might indicate if one had drank whatever potion came before what's currently simmering, the wouldn't have just been silenced by a sore throat.

Whether it be depositing findings, coming for updates, or passing through as an employee or visitor, you've come through the open door to this mess of a station. The one responsible for it has a hand through his hair with the other nursing a bottle that he hasn't quite noticed it isn't his water yet. He doesn't look up from the brew when you enter, but he does raise his voice the second you step through the door.]

There must be hundreds of different species out in the wilds. Hundreds! And yet all of them are either poisonous, just aesthetically pleasing, or only serve to make people talk to one another! I don't mind the talk, truly, but what is the point if no one has the solution to this sickness? Words of encouragement that only make the pang of failure hit harder? I'm close to just combining all the sleeping agents and putting the patients down for a long rest, because that might be less excruciating than trying all of these. What do you think?

II. Streets

[For research purposes, Dorian has tasked himself with picking up an overabundance of Liln from a flowershop outside the Market District. With the bomb being an airborne flu, they seemed to have fled to the point of becoming pests in places free of the sick. One might notice they're carefully contained in a glass jar as Dorian makes his way through crowds of citizens gathered to gossip... up until he runs into someone.

That someone might be you, or it might be another unfortunate soul who simply wasn't looking where they were going. Regardless, the jar of the creatures slips through his fingers, shattering into pieces once it hits the pavement. The Liln scatter in fear of being trapped again, consequently latching onto any hosts in the the vicinity of the broken glass. Needless to say, due to the suddenness spread of a brightly colored creature, Olympians around also scatter lest it be another stage of sickness. Those that stick around will find that the Liln harmlessly slipped onto their skin, forming a tattoo potentially revealing of their mood in their panic. They will also find that they're now in the company of a very tired man.]

Those were to be our test subjects for a cure, you know. [He says, lines of a bright red snake curling around his neck.] Best hope those don't make an M.

III. Wildcard

[Dorian will be around the Institute, Sanctuary, and the Red Light District at night looking to hear the information of others who are out capturing/gathering intelligence. If you've an idea for their interaction outside of the prompts, feel free to tag with it! Or hit me up at

meganerd for a closed prompt idea.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You do seem to be quite an honest man. That much is true. So your deepest fear is being compromised, eh? Not being true to yourself.

Yes, yes, all... that. Don't tell anyone, will you? [He lowers the bottle again, pressing a finger to his own lips.] I'm ruining all my mystery.

[ He puts his chin in his hand. ]

It's charming.

You're charming.

[He leans to gently tap him on the nose.]

I can do better than that. You're... captivating? Yes, that's a better word.

[ With a grin - ]

Ooh, I like that. So does that make you my captive?

Oh, naturally. You have been keeping me here...

Against your will? How wicked I am.

But so very attractive. Quite the predicament you've put me in. Very unfair.

Well, if it weren't unfair, I'd hardly be truly wicked, eh? You must despise me for my cruelty.

Oh, I positively loathe you. I don't know how I can go on in the company of such a bad man.

Hm. You clearly need to be rescued. A virtuous knight in pearly armor.

Edited 2017-11-04 00:49 (UTC)

Pearly armor? Up for debate.

No? What do you prefer, then? Shining silver?

Oh, yes. Much more tasteful. I'd probably swoon.

Then I shall dress in sinister black, and find a properly beautiful fellow in silver armor to rescue you. Someone properly shining-eyed and dewy.

The one time you'd dress in black, and it's for the task of finding someone else for me? You are a very cruel man. I'll try to keep my eyes on them.

Well, I couldn't be your knight. I haven't the constitution for virtue.

Certainly not. You don't have the complexion for the silver, either. But if you're going to go off and find me a knight, do have the decency of looking less appealing than them. The point is to want to escape, after all.

Ahh. Perhaps I shall clone you. That's the only way I could succeed, I fancy.

[He's got him there. Dorian flushes, breaking his critical tone with a laugh.]

I'm far too drunk to best that.

[ By laughs, and leans over to kiss Dorian's shoulder. ]

How marvelous. So what do I get for my victory?

[He hums, turning enough to run his fingers down By's chest.]

I could put my tongue to better use? I'll try not to make it so sharp, for your poor balls.

Hm. [ He glances down at his crotch evaluatively. ] I'd like that, but I don't know if I'm quite ready to go yet. I could do you.

Aren't we talking about rewarding you? [He raises his brows, but grins none-the-less.] Not that I'm opposed.

[ He grins and shrugs. ]

You could always reward me another way. Perhaps while I take care of you? Tell me another something interesting. I love gossip.

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