nothing (besides everyone ignoring Orym's deal) has made me angrier than watching Dorian keep up this facade. Dorian Storm has always been a type of mask he's worn. At first he called himself a liar because of it. The happy go lucky bard was a way of escaping for him. He was escaping Brontë so he created Dorian. He didn't believe he was Dorian. Until the Crown Keepers made Dorian real. And for a while, he really believed he was Dorian. That he has this new family and new life and he could be who he truly wanted to be.
And then his brother came back and made his problems Dorian's problems. Until he had to put Brontë back on. Because even if the Crown Keepers + Cyrus called him Dorian, he was Brontë. He had to be who his brother thought he was.
When Cyrus dies, the thread to Brontë had snapped. He was going to see Orym, back to the Bells Hells, back to Dorian Storm. But the foundation of Dorian had shattered. Dorian was created in order to run from his place in life, family, Cyrus. Now he was gone. The Crown Keepers had fallen apart. His friends fell through his fingers and he couldn't do anything to stop it. He was once ready to side with a betrayer god for these people and now they're in the wind.
So Dorian shows back up to Bells Hella and he's completely broken. The foundation of both of his lives has been thoroughly rocked. No brother. No Crown Keepers. The two things that forged Dorian Storm. He wears that mask so fucking well. Because he still wants to believe in it. He said it live on stage that he should "believe his own backstory". The one he made up. The one where he was a bard.
He wants to be Dorian so bad. He spends all his money on Orym, he spins the bottle so he can kiss his friends, he flirts, he blushes and giggles at compliments. Exactly how Dorian would, should.
But he wears the gold of the heir. He has a festering animosity inside his chest. He doesn't sleep. He's thinner than he was. He doesn't sleep. He sicks abominations after their creators. He talks to God's without an ounce of self preservation, daring them to strike him down. He does not acknowledge them as they taunt him.
The god of beauty and magic calls him beautiful and he does not smile.
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Breaking and sneaking through the base was easier the second time. The security hadn't changed, just reinforced, which Nine thinks is another foolish choice.
A spider scampering across the walls, quick, but silent. Soon enough, he has landed in the same room as the fox, approaching carefully as to not startle him.
His footsteps are silent, but what point is there to stay quiet when they'll have to interact one way or another? Plus, surprising the mechanically modified, enhanced with new weaponry (probably), isn't the best choice.
"Hey."
He states, making his footsteps audible before he gets into the line of vision. He pauses before Tails, squinting slightly. Did... uh... something happen? Tails looks... different, to an extent.
-@9oftails
He was a little confused when the cameras in the area around him shut down. All he could assume is that metal was doing it out of spite or something dumb.
What was he kidding, he didn't know what was going on anymore. Knuckles was off doing Chaos knows what. Apparently, Eggman wasn't around anymore. Don't even get him started on him failing to repair himself because he didn't know how- in his defense, he couldn't get a good angle, but that didn't make up for it in his own mind.
He flinched hearing the other's voice. It wasn't robotic... what was someone who wasn't a robot- shit whoever it is must think he's a badnik-
He turned towards the footsteps, generally for his sense of direction rather than actually looking at the fox. He kept the trinket he was working on in one hand, switching his grip so it was more of a weapon.
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