When mood or necessity requires it, Dorian leaves his home in more of a shroud.  For typical errands, he is friendly with storekeepers and familiar faces, though clearly reserved and even shy. For anything more, Dorian seems to skulk, hiding his face and even his name.  He only ever goes by 'Dorian' as it is, determined not to acknowledge his lineage that comprises only of himself – and is afraid of finding out otherwise. He is invariably soft spoken to the patrons of the places he graces, and even hides behind masks when obligated to be seen by a group of people. To some it borders on theatrics, while others enjoy the unusual habits of the young man.  Sometimes, all it does is focus more attention on him; some guess his identity, but some are taken by the mystery cluelessly. 

This is not so much an insecurity about being Aasimar as it is a fear and dislike for being remembered.  It is unpleasant to be remembered by others for things he can't remember doing or partaking in, for others to feel familiar when he feels nothing. He is unwilling to have a chance encounter with former friends or worse, admirers.  In a few cases, such as Stover Delft, it has been positive, informative and orienting, but short tastes at the beginning of this new life was plenty, and Dorian has shied from social instances.

One figure he has a more open interaction with is manager of the Opera House.  Close to work (as well as various gardens for druidic contemplation and Pangur Ban romps) and upscale areas more befitting someone refined, Dorian frequents a box there since rediscovering the pastime, which he found out to indeed be a carryover from his previous life.  Settling that reality behind him, he has come to be friendly with the House's owner, and tolerating more from them about his past and his identity than from others.  He sits in his box like Phantom of the Opera from time to time, leaving his cat at home, but bringing his mask.

One person who Dorian was unable to fool with something as thin as a mask was Ashton Wakefield, a slowly aging resident on the North Shore, a place Dorian frequents as well for its beauty – and lack of rabble.  While the people of these rich areas don't often tend to be down to earth types, it isn't being civilized itself that the druidic tenants frown on, and Dorian finds the civilized – though sometimes uncontentious nobility a bit easier to frequent. Of nature, Dorian prefers the Order of strength and practicality that wild beasts carefully arrange themselves in, rather than the chaotic forces nature can unleash. Dorian has thought often about his place as a druid in this industrious city, and has come to respect the day to day order that civilization brings, even to the lives of animals who share this urban setting; birds fed by old ladies, fat rats who dine on high class meals and milk-fed alley cats.  Not all are so lucky, but so is true of the humans here too.  The lucky and industrious find their place – just as in the wild, but with an improved gloss.  Even the scraggly have a chance to hide from the rain or beg for coins here.  Human and animal alike are more free to change their fate unhunted by storm and deadly predator.  However, it remains upsetting when the cost of all this industry is evident in the spoiling of nature.  He is sure there are ways to bring society and nature into balance, so that everyone can properly benefit and tries to believe that the dubious gift of recurring life might help him bring such cities – perhaps beginning with this one – around.

Ashton revealed himself as a longtime friend, and invites Dorian to his house regularly, where he lives with his wife and two young sons.  Dorian has asked him not to bring up the past, and Ashton has so far has managed to be good about it, revealing only that they were contemporaries and friends, but happy simply to spend time again with Dorian, even with his new life and ways.  Dorian suspects it won't hold out forever though, and eventually he will have to face some or all of the events of his past, good and bad, as if they were his – because fundamentally, they are.