Smile C I E L
Dapper Dabbler
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- Logan’s astonishment at Dorian’s description of money could only be outweighed by the lack of expression in the blunt deadpan of Dorian’s answer. ”Hookers and blow.”
Not feeling the need to establish little things like sarcasm or thorough context, Dorian didn’t bother to elaborate any further than that. He was too distracted with what Logan was saying to take the time, anyway. Dorian raised his right hand. He flicked his wrist dismissively, as if trying to shoo Logan’s idea away. ”No. No. Get a TV. The only people who snub TVs outright are haughtier than thou intellectuals trying to make a point. Not to mention you’ll miss out on the miracle that is Breaking Bad and The Real Housewives of Atlanta,” he stated as if explaining without establishing anything that he meant, aside possibly from the Breaking Bad recommendation.
When the subject started to turn back to slayers, Dorian found himself being a little more at ease with the news than he probably should have been. A small part of him wondered if he should make his exit, and quickly. There were dangers to the supernatural, ones which he knew far too well. Perhaps they didn’t effect Logan, but they were different creatures, so it made sense enough that there would be distinctions in their life experiences. The statements Logan had made explaining slayers made sense. They had, however, neglected to mention exactly what triggered a slayer into acting, which left Dorian with a worry that he knew better than to show.
Even with the self-preservation alarms going off in his head, Dorian wasn’t willing to look away from Logan completely. That being so, he’d chosen to respond to Logan’s invitation to search with a shrug and no effort to listen whatsoever. The entire club smelled the same to him. It was all sweat, a floor that really needed to be cleaned, and more sweat. The only hint he had was context and observation of Logan’s observing, the latter of which was just enough to prod Dorian into answering. ”The mid-tone blonde with a black dress you keep eyeing?”
Dorian wasn’t especially eager to call attention to the response. He didn’t bother to wait for confirmation or denial, instead skipping on to address a much larger problem. His intentionally misleading explanation had been a lot more confusing than he’d intended, or so it seemed to him when he noticed Logan trying to press money directly into his cell phone screen.
Dorian pressed the back of his hand against his mouth and looked to the ground just long enough to stifle the oncoming snicker. He took in a quick breath to hold the laughter down, then took a few steps towards Logan, again nudging himself so Logan would have needed to walk directly past Dorian in order to reach the bar. ”No. No. I mean you have to pay the service provider. Not—I’ll take it here.” Dorian grabbed the phone in his left hand. Whether or not Logan had continued to hold onto it as well, he hadn’t paid much mind. The important part was that he could turn the screen, set a finger on the power button and demonstrate as he described. ”See the little squares on the screen? They look a little like buttons? Because they’re buttons. Sensitive, reactive buttons. They work by registering body heat, so you’ve got to press it with your finger, gently, the same way you would if you wanted to poke someone on the shoulder really ineffectively. Try pressing a button. You’ll open up an option.”
Thinking that he had at least started to show the proper behavior, Dorian let Logan take his phone back. He held his general position, one hand at the ready in case it looked like Logan was going to mishandle his phone again. ”Skipping back, if the slayers are hunting down creatures like you, why’d you bother helping them? Immunity from their kill sprees? Avoid the world’s bloodiest family reunion? That sounds like a non-refundable ticket out to internal death threat ville.”
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