.....Dorian frowned at her choice of actions. Her disobedience and bravery didn't please him nor sit well with his situation. His furrows his brow as he decides to do something he really doesn't want to. Dorian lifts the arm he had offered to Saoirse towards his mouth, biting around the buttons he tears it open and the sudden sorrow was apparent in his eyes.

[b]"Is your name on this list? Is this your name? This is you on the wash list right?"[/b] he clutches at straws already knowing the inevitable answer as he thrusts his wrist in her face, gun never leaving its position.

The sight was far from what could possibly be expected, something never ever seen before.
Something one would be happy to never ever see. The skin was unnatural, dead like but alive. Paler. Wrong. Secondly there was not one name but a list that stretched up towards his elbow, and the names... The names were not written in the neat clear font of everyone else's. No, but etched into his flesh with jagged viscous lines, each one was formed by putrid wounds and horrid scars. The skin red from swelling, the names wriggling and crawling. It was unnatural, it was unholy.The sight was sickly, not from vision alone but by the nature of its aura. And it looked painful!

Saoirse would recognise her name in the middle, and the one closest to his hand also catches her eye. Similar to the name on her own wrist she notices the name 'Radshaw,'
Clayton Radshaw.



Dorian sighs heavily but the words come to him without thought, as if reminding himself or looking for his own answers as he explains the situation to her.

"[b]The S.MUS is defective, fractured,[/b]" the incomprehensible sentence just blurts from his mouth. His lips move as he readies to continue his speech only noticing the confusion in Saoirse's eyes at the last moment. The very same eyes he could still lose himself in, those deep mesmerising pools of longing... He snaps out of it and focuses instead on his gun, he looks down at the barrel regaining clarity, staring at the solid steel pressed down firmly against her soft bres...

"[b]Ahem[/b] he clears his throat and retracts his pistol, instead using it to scratch his head. Still cocked and loaded. "[b] the Soul Matrix Unification System.[/b]" he looks at her for a moment half expectantly, letting it sink in.
[b]What? It's the 21st century, everything gets a cool acronym, regardless of the actual technology used.[/b]" he gives a little casual playful shrug signalling it wasn't his idea and showing no concern for his predicament.

[b]"there are malevolent forces that interfere with the plans, mostly the supernatural.[/b]" there was something undeterminable in the glare he gave her following that statement. [b]"you could say I'm the tech support, a cleaner. Or even a reaper. Either way I tidy up the loose ends, the people and souls that no longer belong in the system, the ones holding up and preventing the matching of others. It's probably not even your fault, your just part of a faulty line. But trust me, your negative effect grows exponentially over the generations and will eventually prevent hundreds of highly compatible connections.[/b]" he gives a playful nod and wink. "[b]HCC[/b]"

Destiny falls to align itself with her head again. [b]"so do you understand why I have to do this?"[/b]