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[personal profile] concierge
Any entries earlier than this were pre-reboot.
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[personal profile] ourselvesalone
He returns to the Nexus, his mind whirling with the events that have just happened. He clutches two ornate jars tightly in his arms, trying to breathe out evenly and convince himself that he is no longer being chased for thieving several organs of the man he's just helped to mummify. Of course he'd known that the doors lead to other places, of course, and yet he hadn't expected to step through his bedroom door and find himself in the very land possessing the gods and goddesses that they, apparently, are entertaining in the present day via Miss Ives.

Hidden goddesses, ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs on vampire bodies, and yet the only thing Victor had cared about had been the fact that he was being handed the opportunity to take part in the ritual. Yes, they had snapped at him at first in a language Victor hadn't understood, but medical skills speak louder than words. They had allowed him in and his careful, precise cuts had earned him awe, along with some respect.

Basking in that, Victor had immediately set his mind on something else. The heart and the lungs. The jars filled with the organs sit ready to join the preserved body in the afterlife, but Victor had quietly excused himself from the procedure and that was when it turned to an escape.

He'd found the nearest hall, slamming one door after the next in search of his escape back to the Nexus. Unfortunately, he has always lacked the luck and grace that his brothers and sisters possess and his fellow carvers soon notice that integral parts of their task are missing. The shouts of a chase are unmistakable, but it is with some determination that Victor continues on, only thinking of the fresh, viable nature of the organs he now clasps. With luck, perhaps he can use them on his subject. With luck, he will turn his Creature's attention elsewhere.

By the sixth attempt, a way back had finally been found and Victor had stumbled through, now standing here with his back to the thick wood, head tipped upwards as he draws in the breaths he has always struggled with. It is no surprise that he is in the library. He always finds himself in the library when he arrives here, as if the reminiscence to Sir Malcolm's is a joke he must endure every time.

"Ice," he demands instantly, of whomever is near. "I need ice."

Aug. 10th, 2014 08:56 am
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[personal profile] ourselvesalone
The tenth of July in the 2014th year of our Lord | Nexus Ballroom

Victor is awash on a strange sea, not sure what he means to do next. He thinks perhaps it is also because of what he knows to have happened between Mr. Gray and Mr. Chandler -- after all, how often is it that you meet a new acquaintance and already know their preferences when it comes to sexual positions? Flushed with the thought, unsteady for the withdrawal, Victor feels particularly out of sorts. "Not as well as you know them, I'm afraid," he replies, able to dig out a slightly wry barb and the curves of his lips playing at a smirk.

Victor Frankenstein finally meets Dorian Gray.



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