Dorian. Loki felt a wash of fondness for his gentleman in the sooty, dark city. The murderer lingering in his head was new, though. He knew the type - the kind who liked to take things slowly, reveled in the act. Though battle had long been lionized in the society into which he was born, murder had not, and those few like the man Dorian lingered on were put down like dogs when they were found out.
It strengthened his resolve to contact him, and soon. Perhaps he would be of less interest to him with his power bound, but perhaps not. And perhaps the company would give them both a measure of comfort.