The Sun Also Rises

Dorian had quite hardly anticipated Maxwell's apparent level of exuberance when it came to chasing pigeons. Frankly the Fae was not at all assured the puppy had ever done it before and yet, he supposed, he could hardly fault the dear the little thing for desiring to chase such creatures. It was well within the nature of canines to chase. Maxwell's efforts to paw at the legs of a young woman however were far more intolerable to the century's old man. Dorian pausing to bend down and lift the dog into this arms. His tan and charcoal body wiggled with even more excitement at this prospect of being lifted as if this was somehow even more exciting than the young woman's unfortunate limb before those sharp puppy teeth begun to nip at those stray locks of brunette hair. Heavens but it was like having a child! Dorian almost sure of it as he attempted to rescue his hair and afford the woman those apologies all the same. The young girl, it seemed, was hardly and perhaps fortunately truly put out by the interruption to her afternoon. That near beaming smile upon her lips only further prompting the pleasantness that seemed to forever taint Dorian's own in some fashion. The man a decidedly good-natured being in every sense of the word and even despite all he had been through in his terribly long life. The woman's soft assurance that puppies would be puppies was met with his own soft chuckle- those the very words Sebastian continued to remind him off. Dorian perhaps given to have to higher expectation of the little creature too early on and yet, in all his life, this was perhaps the first time he had ever been afforded the chance to raise a pet all his own. So much of this a decidedly new experience for the man. That comment upon how finely dressed the dog was however readily seemed to further hold his attention as he glanced upward to meet the woman's bright blue gaze once more. That warm simper upon his lips.

"We, my fiancé and I, are trying to instil a good sense of self within him. We always dress well in our house, we want him to feel like he belongs. It is a shame people do not take nearly as much pride in their appearance as they used too."

His features shifted but slightly at that admittance, his head nodding almost imperceptibly towards a singular young man several paces away, his iPod in his ears and his jeans hanging so low upon his waist that his undergarments were exposed to some level. Dorian entirely assured such a look was counter-productive in assisting the fellow in his search for a wife. The Fae still very much of that near age-old belief that everyone was surely looking to be married. After all, they had been within his time, the man yet to truly grasp the notion that in this day and age marriage was not nearly the necessity it had once been. It was that camera within the woman's arms that seemed to grasp his attention then, Dorian's gaze lingering upon it with a clear curiosity as he queried just what she had come to that space to photograph. It could only be hoped it had not been those pigeons. The man almost relieved it was that scenery instead and yet he could hardly blame her in any sense. Autumn provided such an array of colour to work with that so contrasted those often dark skies- his own head nodding in agreement.

"That they are."

One hand lifted near idly then, his fingers gently running down Maxwell's coat in a gesture almost absentminded. Dorian taking that moment to perhaps truly observe the woman that sat beside him for the first time. She was, he had decided, quite a lovely thing. The very sort of girl whom would have attracted near boundless attention within his own time and among those higher circles. Her sweet features and golden brown hair would have been nothing short of desirable, her clearly sunny disposition and pleasant manner only adding to the amount of suitors hoping to court her and escort her for that coming winter season. In fact, she very near reminded him of his own Samantha in some fashion. Dorian pushing away thoughts of the woman lest he find himself inclined to those less then pleasing memories. The young woman's admittance in near the same moment that this was her first time in that city saw his eyes lift slightly beneath those tinted glasses. It had been not all that long ago that he too had found himself within this very park on his first day in turn. His own experiences not early as pleasant as this woman's all the same. Truly Dorian had remained fearful of bicycles ever since one had collided with him that fateful morning.

"Oh? Where is it you came from? I came from Naples, Italy, before I came upon this city by chance or by fate, whichever it is you might prefer. I had no intention to stay when I first arrived but now it is my home. Why did you choose to come here? If you don't mind my questioning it."

Those accented lyrics fell easily from his lips all the same, those near age old manners and mannerisms so rarely seen within the modern day that a large proportion of those the Monarch engaged believed him to be truly unusual. That old-world charm so long ago having abandoned the more modern man. Dorian himself still caught somewhere within the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries from which he had come. It was the woman's clear passion for that photography that perhaps prompted the Fae's query as to whether she had been to that track on the far side of the park, tree-lined and lovely as it was, that clear excitement readily overcoming her features then as his own head shook in response to that query of which track to follow.

"No, it is that way, I can escort you if you should like? We are going that way as it is."

His arms shifted to wrap about that puppy within his lap once more. Maxwell returned gently to the ground then as Dorian stood, the man affording his companion several moments to rise to her own feet before taking that place at her side to guide her towards that trail- Maxwell easily bouncing beside him in delight at that walk continuing. It was a curious thing to notice perhaps, Dorian near unsure why he had not observed it earlier and yet, removed from that sunlight to pass beneath the shadows of those trees it became near abundantly clear that the woman herself was.....unusually bright. Distinctly so. That glow of life that surrounded her, that life Dorian alone was so gifted to see in all living beings, near seemed to shine from her form in every direction near as bright as his own. Fae, after all, were unusually bright beings as it was and yet she, a human, shone far brighter than most. Dorian near taken aback by it as his sunglasses lifted to rest atop his head- the man momentarily seeking that unobstructed view- Dorian largely oblivious to that near dumbfounded look upon his features as his own silvery-hued eyes lifted to her own. How remarkable! He'd never seen a human like this! The man suddenly aware that he had perhaps been looking at her obscurely, his gaze hurriedly shifted from her to that path ahead then even despite that curiosity that gnawed at him now.

"I fear I forgot to introduce myself. I am Dorian and this is Maxwell."

His last name was purposefully omitted, along with any other indication of just who he might have been. The young woman, so far, hardly seeming to have recognised him from any of those magazines or newspapers his face adorned. The man perhaps unwilling to inspire her memory too much. After all, he was hardly ever given to have such pleasant conversation with another anymore, his feet brushing aside those fallen autumn leaves as they strolled. The man's lips parting to speak once more before his step abruptly halted. Dorian staring distinctly to the side of that path then.

"What in heavens name is that?"

That clear shock readily tainted those accented lyrics then, his free hand lifting to gesture towards what was quite clearly......a drinking fountain. That singular, simple device seeming to have baffled him entirely. Dorian momentarily oblivious to the notion that this was, perhaps, a highly unusual thing for him to find interest in at all and yet, in all the times he had been to this park it had almost always been in the evening. The drinking fountain obscured by darkness. That curiosity in his features was surely abundantly clear as he dared to shift slightly closer to it, the man peering almost nervously at it as if he anticipated it might somehow launch in assault upon him. His features remaining that very picture of quizzical as his head tilted in a fashion almost boyish. His gaze suddenly turned back to the young woman then.

"What.....does it do?"

Dorian Aragona