005 - Audio.
Well, I am alive, I think. Unless I am still dead. I suppose it figures that the first time I emerge at a normal hour for a meal, I am thrown into dining with my former warden. This place seems practically made of inconvenience and absurdity. From the stories I have heard thus far, I should not be surprised to find myself awakening one morning speaking in tongues or walking on the ceiling or wearing hats on my arse. I am not so much railing against dinner last night, but rather at the utterly hysterical sideshow at which I have apparently killed myself. Again.
To whomever it is in this wretched place everyone whines to for animals and cakes, I have a request. I want to be allowed to leave. Redemption be damned, I refuse to play any longer.
Send me back! Send me back so that I may die and remain dead. I wish to die as I was meant to, in my own attic room, failing to conceal my sins and drowning in them.
[The audio cuts out abruptly as one might angrily slam down a phone; a testament to Dorian's slow but sure ability to learn new things and then use them in dramatically haughty ways.]
[ooc - Dorian has spent the days after leaving the infirmary alone, in his room. Mainly he has slept and read books. He has not checked the journals. Had he done so, he probably wouldn't have happened to have his awkward dinner with Armand St. Just. He held it together well enough for that, but now, back in his room and feeling somewhat better, he is losing his cool.]
To whomever it is in this wretched place everyone whines to for animals and cakes, I have a request. I want to be allowed to leave. Redemption be damned, I refuse to play any longer.
Send me back! Send me back so that I may die and remain dead. I wish to die as I was meant to, in my own attic room, failing to conceal my sins and drowning in them.
[The audio cuts out abruptly as one might angrily slam down a phone; a testament to Dorian's slow but sure ability to learn new things and then use them in dramatically haughty ways.]
[ooc - Dorian has spent the days after leaving the infirmary alone, in his room. Mainly he has slept and read books. He has not checked the journals. Had he done so, he probably wouldn't have happened to have his awkward dinner with Armand St. Just. He held it together well enough for that, but now, back in his room and feeling somewhat better, he is losing his cool.]