jacksonian | contact post

My dear Mark! [ already be worried. ] I've got to say, I've supremely appreciated your financial acumen these past few months—you've got a good head on your shoulder. That being said, my finances are...ah, going to take a bit of a hit soon.

Any advice on any new projects I might benefit from?

[ Oh, hey, it's Dorian. With...bad news? ]

Sure. I can draw up a list. What's happened?

Long story short, a valuable commodity of mine was stolen and the private investigator's charging out the ass because he knows I'll pay the fee.

Who's the investigator?

Nicolas Demidov. He's a prejudiced idiot of a werewolf but he's at least good at his job.

[ after all, he was somehow able to figure out that Dorian's body parts came from Dorian. ]

Oh.

[ He deflates a bit. ]

Him. What's the object that's been stolen?

My portrait. [ and then, there's a little pause because he's not entirely sure if Mark gets the significance. ] Ah, the titular portrait. The actual picture of Dorian Gray.

Oh. And that one has, uh, sentimental value...?

[ He still hasn't read the book. ]

[ That much is exceedingly obvious. ]

You haven't even read the book yet, have you? I mean, I'm that Dorian and you haven't even taken time to read the book!

[ Ah, shit. He's been caught. ]

Look, I tried. It's not exactly an easy read.

Apparently they teach it in high school nowadays, I believe in your ability to read the damn thing.

It's just a bunch of stuff about how good-looking you are.

Well yes, but sandwiched in all of that, Oscar tells you how my portrait works.

[ and that Dorian murdered his bestie and drove a few people to suicide but you know. nbd. just ignore the fact that he's a horrible person. ]

You could just tell me.

[ but that takes EFFORT... ]

It's what keeps me alive. Any signs of age, any traces of sins, any wounds inflicted on me don't stick. Instead, they're transferred to my portrait.

[ Huh. Maybe he should have read this book. ]

How the hell does that work?

Well it's magic. That's how it works.

[ DEALS WITH THE DEVIL, THAT'S HOW IT WORKS let Satan solve your problems. ]

Yeah, but how does the magic itself work? And can anyone do it?

I doubt anyone could do it here. Whatever created that link with my portrait doesn't exist in this world.

But what did create it?

It's more of a who than what.

Fine. Who.

Lucifer.

[ SORRY, MARK....... ]

[ A pause. ]

Like - the Lucifer...here. He did it?

[ And now comes the damage control. ]

Not entirely the Lucifer here. It was the Lucifer from my world—and I didn't even ask him to. All I did, while looking upon my portrait, was make an idle wish that the portrait would age and grow old, while I remained as young as I did on the day Basil painted it. I never thought it could happen in the first place, let alone cost my soul.

Of course, I don't regret it.

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