For Dorian, and anyone else who wants to visit

[singulartragedy]

Adrian sits down by the lake. His jacket is tossed on the ground a ways away, and his trouser legs are rolled up -- he's been wading in the water, and has now sat down with his little leatherbound book to write

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[doctor_pascal]

He might notice a carriage led by a lone man, the heavy horse doing the task easily. The driver is not peasant looking, rather perhaps with the appearance of an unkempt gentleman farmer.

As he passes, he nods Adrian's way, politely.

[singulartragedy]

"Good day, sir," Adrian says, and makes a short bow. He has a gentleman's manners still, though not his station, and perhaps they've even improved since the scandal. He never would have bowed to a farmer before.

[doctor_pascal]

Pascal stops the carriage, returns the bow. It’s curt but not awkward. “Likewise, sir.”

He has an accent, resolutely from the south of France - but also resolutely educated. This is not a farmer, obviously.

“Pleasant weather, n’est-ce-pas?”

[singulartragedy]

Adrian raises his eyebrows, not meaning to be rude (he'd rather anything than be rude) but surprised at Pascal's educated voice. "So it is," he says. "You are French, I take it?"

[not_snake_bite]

There's a Pre-teen!Steerpike, walking around and kicking the grass aimlessly.

He's kind of happy not to be in the kitchens anymore, but he's not sure what to do with himself.....

[singulartragedy]

Adrian sees him walking and smiles wryly. He remembers that kind of boredom; it's the kind you never quite manage when you grow older and there's always something to worry about.

"Hello there," he says, cheerfully enough.

[not_snake_bite]

The kid looks up, and replies. “Hullo.” A little shyly. He’s wary of adults, and particularly men.

The only one he knows has been treating him very poorly. To say the least.

[singulartragedy]

Adrian doesn't make much of that, not knowing Steerpike's background. He was a shy child himself.

"Out for a walk? I imagine it gets dull here, for a boy of your age."

[pandora_antioch]

Will Adrian still be hanging out after sunset? If he does, a beautiful, tall brunette with olive skin and the bearing of a Lady will drop by the lake and sit, observing its waters dreamingly.

We hope he's there. Pandora Lydia has a huge appreciate of the literary arts.

[singulartragedy]

Having little else to do, he will indeed!

When he spots her, Adrian stands quickly and makes a bow. "Good evening," he says, looking rather sheepish about his state of disarray. It would be hard to tell from his shabby clothes, but he was a gentleman once, and gentleman don't wander around in their shirtsleeves in front of women.

[pandora_antioch]

It doesn’t matter to Pandora - she’s lived through 2000 years and has seen a great deal of fashion. Her own attire, by the way, is simple, timeless - a long dress that could be pass for acceptable in just about any era. What is the most remarkable is her hair, wavy and of a rich brown, and very friendly to the wind.

“Good evening,” she smiles pleasantly, friendly, though closed lip… to hide the fangs.

[singulartragedy]

"I, er, don't believe we've met." It would be highly improper in England, in his time, to introduce himself to a strange woman, but the Mansion is different, and he's hardly spoken to anyone but Jim lately. "Adrian Singleton, at your service, madam," he says, and bows again without thinking about it.

[allartisuseless]

Well isn't this a pretty sight? Dorian tucks his hands in his pockets and saunters over to a friend he's not seen in much too long.

"Aren't I lucky?" he grins. "I seem to have discovered a merman."

[singulartragedy]

It may have been a while, but there will probably never come a day when Adrian doesn't immediately recognize that voice, and he very nearly drops his pen. "Er. Dorian. Hello."

[allartisuseless]

"Hello, Adrian dear." Dorian leans down and presses a soft kiss to Adrian's hair. "What are you up to? I haven't seen you in far too long." Another kiss, on Adrian's neck, and then by his ear as he whispers, "I've missed you."

[singulartragedy]

"I've been -- not doing much of anything, really," he admits, wishing he could say something impressive, prove he's been doing all right without Dorian. ". . . You look well."