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One day I will set this right
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Post by Geoff Alen on Sept 9, 2020 3:03:51 GMT
Dorian couldn’t see the engineer nodding, but Geoff was bobbing his head up and down. The card game. That poor innocent redhead. The blood had been real, not that synthetic corn syrup stuff that Halloween stores sold. He had seen the matchmaker with his own eyes. She was scary to say the least. Hannah probably gave Dorian the scoop on everything there. No need to beat a dead horse. He was about to say some more when Dorian’s response cut him short.
Just as Geoff predicted, he wasn’t as accomplice.
Good. If he had been, there would have been a lot more questions. Dorian knew how she worked, but not close enough to have insider information. Even bringing up that he and Hannah had a connection made Geoff’s trust in the man increase.
.. You’ve told me about the truth of your experiences in the game, I’ll tell you something as well. Ask me something you wish to know; if it’s not too personal, I will answer.“
“Okay, um...”
Geoff has to think. Not who he knew, that was personal with a capital P. How the other games went? No, that’d open up old wounds and no one needed that. Heck, don’t even talk about the game. A man like Dorian had to have hobbies, right?
”Before...all of this, what would be doing on a typical Tuesday night?”
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Survivor
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Not the change of pace I was looking for
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Post by Dorian F. Blund on Sept 11, 2020 10:54:44 GMT
Dorian had expected him to ask about a lot of things, some of them which he wasn’t very eager to hear: games, his relationships with people, Mrs Baker most likely, or anything else of high relevance. What he hadn’t expected was to be asked about his hobbies. The question caught him off guard enough that he had to take a few seconds to think. People were so focused on everything that was going wrong, all the time, and comforting each other through the heartaches; it wasn’t often someone asked him about, well… his normal life. In fact, Katherine was the only one to have been interested in that early on, questioning him about his literary preferences. How he longed for those days.
Now, to answer the question…
“Well, Tuesday is early enough in the week that I wouldn’t need to take work home.” He pondered out-loud. He was suddenly curious about the day of the week; he’d given up on remembering which day of the month it was, as long as he could keep track of how many weeks and months were passing. He’d been kidnapped on a weekend. What day could it be now? A certain nostalgia filled him, one he thought he’d given up on by now; how he missed just… being able to look at a calendar, or his watch, and knowing these things. “This might be absurd, but you wouldn’t happen to know more or less what day it is, would you?” For this man to have a way to properly check the dates seemed far-fetched, but it was at least worth a try.
“As for what I would do… probably read, and spend time with Winfred. He’s my turtle.” There was a hint of sadness in his voice. Oh, how he missed the small little thing. He truly hoped that either his parents or Sybil were taking good care of him. Had he been declared dead by now? Had his will been read? If so, his secretary must have been in for quite a surprise. “If the weather’s good, take a walk outside and watch the stars. Then again, that’s how I got kidnapped, so… maybe not.” He scoffed to himself. God, what a stupid way to get caught for a man like him. “If it’s summer, go sailing. And if the weather’s really bad… knit.” He lowered his voice unremarkably. He wasn’t ashamed of his past-times by any means, but he knew people had a tendency to not take it seriously.
“I’m afraid I don’t have any grandiose, captivating hobbies to share. I’m not one to go on great adventures as soon as I have a minute for myself. What about you, Geoff?”
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Survivor
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One day I will set this right
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Post by Geoff Alen on Sept 11, 2020 17:59:35 GMT
Geoff was relieved to hear that after some silence, Dorian answered the question. It was nice not talking about who killed who and the crazy woman who ran the place. Even the old bread and water was tasting less like earthy pennies when he let the topic of doom and gloom go.
Geoff also found himself nodding in agreement and understanding as Dorian spoke. He also took work home, too. The labs were good about giving him tools for repairs and extra wiring, but there were things like filing error reports or writing research that he could easily from home. So, a man like him had a job that required lots of paperwork.
“This might be absurd, but you wouldn’t happen to know more or less what day it is, would you?”
"Well, my re-discovered FitBit died, but when it was still running, it was a Sunday. With that being said, it...might be a Wednesday. I'm...not super sure, but that's my best estimate."
That thing was overdue for a charge. If he ever got out of this place, he'd be charging it out the whazoo. Oh, to be back in the world of chargers and phone parts and recreating things from scrap metal. It was preferable to being around all the clods in this messed up place. A place that was destined to be destroyed if people were lucky enough to get and call the police. Wait, wait, don't think about the doom and gloom. Listen to Dorian.
… probably read, and spend time with Winfred. He’s my turtle.”
"When I was a kid, I had a turtle. His name was Kramer. I was so sad when he passed. My sisters teased me for a week."
It had been the first real trauma in his life. Kramer had been a box turtle, and he was determined to keep it alive. There was the corn kernel worry he had, but well, it was a lesson learned in which Kramer was alive, and his family's annoyance turned into laughter. Kramer's death was natural, but it had taught Geoff the importance of looking after others. That included his younger siblings, no matter how they annoyed or teased him.
The one hobby that surprised Geoff was knitting. He had seen other people do it, but he never had the patience for it. Yet hearing how the man preferred a solitary life was comforting. He had been kidnapped going for a walk, just as he had.
“I’m afraid I don’t have any grandiose, captivating hobbies to share. I’m not one to go on great adventures as soon as I have a minute for myself. What about you, Geoff?”
"Yeah, my life's not really exciting either. Usually, I stay at home and work on crosswords or sudokus. I play volleyball with my league the Badass Roosters, golf with a select few people whenever time, weather and money allows. Take walks to stay in shape or to stretch my legs from sitting down for too long."
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Survivor
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Not the change of pace I was looking for
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Post by Dorian F. Blund on Sept 12, 2020 19:20:35 GMT
Dorian looked up with interest at the mention of a Fitbit, but frowned in disappointment just as quickly; of course it would have run out of battery at some point after so long. It still felt somewhat good to be able to pinpoint the day, even if it might be a bit off. Wednesday. Maybe he would try to keep track again and hope with better luck this time.
He was surprised to hear the man had a turtle in his youth; it wasn’t entirely uncommon, he knew, to have such a pet, but Dorian himself had never met anyone who had one except for him. Then again, he didn’t have many friends.
"When I was a kid, I had a turtle. His name was Kramer. I was so sad when he passed. My sisters teased me for a week."“How cruel.” Dorian said in sympathy. Even now, as a grown man, he knew he would be greatly saddened by Winfred’s loss, even more considering he still had half of his life ahead of him. “That must have been hard for a child.”
Geoff didn’t act surprised by any of his past-times nor particularly bored, and he was soon to realize the two had somewhat similar lives: quiet, maybe a bit secluded, work at home, walks, and the occasional sport to stay fit. Dorian knew, of course, that people are always just people, even when the bad ones, and so it wasn’t unlikely to have much in common with just about anyone. Still, it was interesting to see how much so in this case. Between Geoff and Ethan, they had about everything about covered.
Badass Roosters was a REALLY ridiculous name, though, but then again, most sports teams weren’t any better.
“I would say I’m about the same, though I usually work-out alone.” He had a room at home just for that purpose, after all, though he knew not everyone could afford it. “I don’t think I caught what your career was…?”
Something with wires, probably, considering how entranced the man was with them.
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Survivor
307
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One day I will set this right
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Post by Geoff Alen on Sept 13, 2020 5:00:16 GMT
”That must have been hard for a chikd Dorian said with sympathy.
Geoff’s smile went unseen, but it was still spreading. Turns out maybe they weren’t so entirely different. Hannah might not be in the room presently, but her spirit brought the two of them together. Maybe some good did come from meeting through nasty circumstances. Oh, there would be need for therapy, but not that Geoff would have minded. He pictured the two of them sitting in a country club conversing over drinks while paperwork went untouched. It was a silly fantasy, but anything was better than that. Did Dorian golf? Add that to the daydream that got them out of the nastiness of the asylum.
”It was,” Geoff said.
I don’t think I caught what your career was…?
”Oh. I’m an engineer. Mechanical and electrical. I work on repairing, designing, and building machines. Some times, I fiddle with trying to fix cell phones. Not good at the newer models since everything’s becoming more automated. Anything past an 8 model is beyond my expertise. It’s a lot of math and science and the difficulty varies on whatever I’m assigned to do. I can go from planning how to set up a home computer to creating a prosthetic. I mean, that’s just the Wikipedia summary of my job.”
Geoff was now piqued. His job was one that was behind the scenes but made an impact on society. Was that part of why Madge targeted him? There could have been hundreds of more eligible people to kidnap and marry off. Maybe she was looking for an extra challenge and decided to mix it with her ore established grudge? Hard to say.
”What about you, Dorian? What’s your job?”
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Survivor
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Not the change of pace I was looking for
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Post by Dorian F. Blund on Sept 13, 2020 12:02:54 GMT
An engineer. Well, that explained a lot, like his obsession with wires, and his study of the building’s pies. From the way he spoke about it, he certainly was very excited about it. “You know, I could probably use some knowledge on prosthetics if I ever make it out of here alive.” He added, somewhat self-depreciatively. He would need a LOT of check-ups and lots of medical attention and tech to make his hands useful again; quite fitting, then, that he was roomed with a future doctor and next to an engineer. “You seem to really like it. Not everyone can say that about what they do for a living.” He complimented the man. He probably missed his job after so long stuck here, if it was such a passion for him. In a way, he admired that. It’s not like Dorian had ever been able to choose what he wanted to make of his life; even if he had to admit that he was really good at his job.
Talking about just that, that’s exactly what Geoff chose to ask him about next, and Dorian thought over the fact for a second. The last time someone had questioned him about it, he was talking to Claudie and Silvio, and had tried to hide his identity, just for the young woman to out him in a second. At this point, frankly, Dorian wasn’t sure it mattered. He knew now for a fact that his position in society wouldn’t save him from harm.
“I’m the vice-president of a company, training to one day be CEO. It’s a family business.” He shrugged. His parents were probably beside themselves after losing the heir they’d spent decades preparing to take over for them, right when they were making preparations to make the transfer official. Served them right, honestly. They weren’t quite old enough to die of a heart attack, anyway.
Probably.
“Lots of paperwork, lots of meetings, lots of people to pander to, that kind of deal. We’re not really established in Maidefield, I was in the process of opening a smaller studio there. Terrible move on my part, if I may say so myself.” Then again, if Mrs Baker had really wanted him, she would have gone to find him wherever he was, he was sure of that. Still, he could have made it a bit harder on her; he was more protected home, anyway, went less unnoticed. People knew him there, it would be almost impossible to catch him off-guard and drag him away without someone sensing something was off. “I assume you lived there, like everyone else here seemed to?”
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