one | Dorian and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

[tevinteraltus]

WHO: Dorian Pavus
WHERE: Fountain Park
WHEN: 29th
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: None as of yet. Will update.

---

Fountain
Dreaming of drowning wasn't uncommon, especially when one was facing an ever-increasing threat with nothing less than the fate of the world hanging in the balance. One could almost say it was expected, even, given the vast pressure all of the Inquisition was under, but it wasn't merely a dream, was it? Even when they'd physically walked the Fade, it was less real than-

Fasta vass! The water burned his eyes as he kicked toward the surface, or at least what he hoped was the surface, as it was far lighter there than behind. He gasped in a relieved breath as he broke free of the water, hands instinctively finding the edge of the fountain and pulling himself free. Having grown up in a port city had its uses, it seemed. The meager clothing he was in clung to his drenched form as he simply took a seat on the edge of the fountain and pulled the weight from his shoulders...a pack it would seem. Then a breeze blew through the square and a deep shiver rippled through his body. The water didn't stay long in his oiled hair, but it ran freezing troughs down his back, forcing him to his feet, the squelch of his water-logged feet in some of the most atrocious boots he'd ever seen pulling a groan from the Tevinter mage. He turned his attention to the pack he'd removed, one thoroughly unfamiliar and certainly not something he'd choose, trying to shake a strange almost hollow feeling that was flooding his limbs. He felt hollow, listless.

Perhaps this was all a terrible nightmare, he'd awaken in his freezing room in Skyhold to the realization his fire had burned too low. That would explain the chill, but that didn't quite feel right. For one, he'd never dreamed this vividly, and even in his nightmares...this was all far too...mundane. Don't mind the dripping man in violet scrubs with the fancy mustache and the moistened but clearly quite stylish hair. He's just going to systematically remove all the items in his pack on a nearby bench until he finds-

"Maker's Breath, a coat!" He wastes no time sliding into that, at least. It wasn't much, but it did something. One step at a time. Marginally warmer, but no closer to answers, he begins to repack that bag he's been provided, though his olive eyes look around regularly, alert to anyone approaching. Something still doesn't feel right, after all, and that hollow, missing feeling was beginning to breed unease.

Inn (South Village) | A bit later
Very few answers to his multitude of questions having made sense, Dorian would like nothing more than to find this library others have mentioned and ready every bit of literature it provided until some clue connected to some other one and so on in the same fashion until the who affair made sense. That adventure, however, would be for another day. His mind was still reeling from the foreignness of it all, and the numb shock of learning his magic was held at bay from him still left his nerves raw. He felt powerless (as he was), exposed, vulnerable and weak. It was unacceptable that whoever or whatever had pulled him here had such a hold over his wellbeing.

Following some sort of routine seemed best as he found a vacant room in the inn, changed into a dry pair of those strange pieces of clothing, violet in color, he'd been provided in the waterproof sack, and made his way down to the common room to dry the rest beside the fire. The slight shake of his hands as he worked, the tenseness in his shoulders, could almost be mistaken as a fault of the chill in the air if it weren't for the way he looked about, jumped at shadows or unexpected sounds. Perhaps the weather had a hand in it, but more than that...Dorian was afraid. Even at his most secluded, hiding for weeks in the Hinterlands hoping for some opportunity to subvert the efforts of his former mentor who'd seemed to have fallen off the proverbial wagon, he'd had his magic with him.

He was dealing with powers beyond his understanding. That was unacceptable, and he didn't have a way to protect himself from them if it were necessary. It was possible the library would provide more answers, and he'd have them, but tonight, he was just hoping to find enough peace of mind to relax a bit, and he'd welcome a friendly face to ward away the gloom, or at least a bit of the fear.

No. Not fear. It's the cold, by the Maker. Just the cold.

Comments

[tevinteraltus]

"that should be assumed, Hawke. Everyone is far more complicated than they seem." At least in his experience, that was the way of it. Besides, while he wouldn't be comforted by the idea of just anyone knowing his secrets, much to his chagrin, he trusted the dwarf, who in turn trusted Hawke implicitly. By extension, so did Dorian.

Dorian was one of the most talented mages of his generation and he had the accomplishments and good school marks to prove it. To so easily have his most prized ability taken from him...he felt beyond useless. He felt like a failure more keenly than he ever had before. He scoffed her explanation, though not in any sort of pointed way. He saw her tales of abilities beyond the mundane for what it was: an attempt at comfort.

"Oh, good. Maybe I'll be spontaneously granted the ability and creative affinity for stained glass production. This place could use more color, after all."

[championofsnark]

"Not everyone. I've met a few people who are exactly what they seem. My uncle Gamlen for example. As difficult as he appears right away." She doesn't know she'd go so far as to say simple, but he also doesn't have many intricacies underneath it all. Hawke's dealt with others that way, and sometimes it's better, to know up front who someone is. "But point made. No one who has an interest in world saving can be. That's a tall order for all." Hawke's only contribution to world saving is how she died. Kirkwall was difficult enough.

She's not great with the comfort; she's great with the funny commentary. This isn't one of those moments. While she cannot entirely fathom what a loss of something like that would be, her sympathy is at least honest. It's not the first time she's been the bearer of bad tidings, and for someone else she might have tried to joke about it. They don't know each other that well, but beyond that, this is a major blow. Even if they get more powers, like she said, they aren't his. Part of his identity is stripped away. There's no way to comfort that fully.

"Glass is what you'd go for? I was thinking colorful furniture. Comfier chairs. A table to play cards at. Of course I'd end up making this into a new pub, rather than what you'd likely to drape it in all fancily."

[tevinteraltus]

"I like to think many of us are participating out of sheer obstinacy." Which was a least partially true of Dorian. "And there are always exceptions to every rule, I believe. Except for that one, of course."

It was as though a piece of himself were missing, one he'd never fully recover, and the thought of that alone was terrifying enough to avoid the thought process entirely. It would instead be explored later, in solitude, where he could properly fall to pieces away from prying eyes.

He instead shakes his head at her assessment. "There is something to be said for a cozy tavern rather than a wine hall filled with pomp and circumstance."

[championofsnark]

Hawke laughs. "Now that I agree with completely. Even the most sweet tempered or passive of people can dig their heels in when they want to. I admit freely I'm the same. Obstinate that is, not sweet tempered." She is under no illusions. She's a pain in the arse. She more often than not reacted negatively to orders or pushing from people in authority. She is much better with people who are her equal or lower in standing. Her aggressive dislike of Meredith was well known in Kirkwall.

She smiles at Dorian genuinely. So not as much of a snob as she expected. Not that she actually minds snobs in the least. They have good taste. Her mother was one in many ways. Nobility was difficult to outlast. "I don't like wine. It makes me sleepy. Give me ale or rum any day." She misses the Hanged Man desperately. It flutters in her stomach now, that longing for a simpler time. Alas.

"Bull lives not too far from here, I'll take you there if you want, once you adjust a bit. I'm certain he'll happy to see one of his own people here. I'm not certain how long he's been here, but long enough to settle in." Hawke's glad they had a chance to talk and get a measure for each other. Varric assured her in letters she would like him a great deal, and she agreed after only a few moments of chatting. "He told me you lot managed to bring the bastard down, which makes what happened well worth it." Her own death, she means.

[tevinteraltus]

"Wine makes me happy, and consoles me in the darkest of times." He breaks that somber note with a smile, though. "And so, more for me, then." That wasn't to say ale or rum didn't have their places. He even enjoyed both in kind, but wine had a way of warming him that the others lacked. He did admit, at least to himself, that may have been due to an ongoing bout of homesickness, but no one else needs know about that.

Something akin to happiness swelled in his chest as the knowledge of Bull's residence was revealed and that he shoved down right quickly. That the lummox's presence would make him happy? Ridiculous.

"Oh, if he's about, I'm sure I'll run into him eventually. He has a habit of being obvious. A horrid quality to be found in a spy, truly." And there was an underlying fondness in that overly-critical assessment that suggested he was rather glad at the news. He had other news to smile over, after all. "Naturally. Corypheus cannot be suffered to live, if one can call his existence living, that is. He's a noxious stain on my homeland's otherwise perfectly tarnished reputation, after all."

[championofsnark]

She understands all too well brushing something serious off with a non-serious remark. It might very well be her greatest skill, so she has no trouble going with it. "That's if you can find any here. These bastards put us into a situation like this without providing copious amounts of liquor to counteract it. So very cruel." Hawke hadn't wanted to drink herself unconscious yet, but she might change her mind on that eventually. There was time.

A smile curls at Hawke's lips, perhaps tinged with a little mischief, as Dorian talks about Bull. Hmmmm. If that was a thing, it wasn't one Varric actually told her about. Salacious details were her favorite, how dare he! "He's in this three bedroom house, red brick and white trim. I'm fairly certain he comes here for lunch too, so I suppose if you just happened to be looking for him, it wouldn't be that difficult." She's teasing. Even if she's off about this, it's still good-natured ribbing. He seems unlikely to be openly affectionate with any of his companions, unlike Hawke, who hangs off them every chance she gets.

"I really should have known he was one of those stubborn bastards who could find a way to live. He did the evil monologuing so well." Hawke blames herself enough for it that she chose to die, but she did kill him the first time. It simply didn't take. That reminds her though, of something she hadn't asked Bull. "Did the Wardens attempt to rebuild and make it work? If my last request was ignored, I am going to find a way to haunt their arses."

[tevinteraltus]

"The lummox is difficult to miss in any regard. If he's about, though, he is welcome to find me. I am also rather difficult to miss." His lips curled in a self-appraising smirk. Rather confident, this Dorian.

"To be fair, in his memory, Tevinter ruled the known world. Quite the blow to the ego to awaken to a world who hates and despises your homeland." And of course, by his tone, he's disgusted by the entire affair. "They are our allies, Hawke. The Inquisitor would hear of nothing else."

[championofsnark]

Hawke just laughed. "Oh that's how you like to play it. I see. I am certain he will be delighted to see you. After all, he almost seemed pleased to see me, and he barely knows me." She was pleased to see him too. They had a delightful chat. She could see why her dwarf liked them both now. "And his people despise me, so I was slightly concerned I'd have another Qun fight on my hands." The last one she survived with great difficulty.

"Well of course, if anyone woke up to that they'd be cranky, but going from cranky to I will take over the world!" Said in a dramatic tone, fist in the air, before she broke it with a smile. "Bit dramatic." To say the least. She was openly relieved at the reassurance that the Wardens kept their word. She usually expected the worst. It was nice to occasionally be surprised. "It was worth it, then."

[tevinteraltus]

Yes, Hawke, that is precisely how he likes to play it, and it will stay that way for the foreseeable future if he has anything to say about it. That being said, he does nod in agreement. "The Iron Bull is odd for his people in many regards. You do realize the Qunari and Tevinter have been at war for the past three hundred years, don't you?"

He chuckles, rolling his shoulder in a shrug. "This creature was, at one time, a man who devised a way to breach the Veil and walk the Fade physically. He's slightly ambitious." But his expression softens slightly as she continues. "Yes, I suppose it was, Hawke."

[championofsnark]

"What? Why didn't anyone tell me?! I'm always the last to know about three hundred year old wars." Yes she is a sarcastic bitch and no she isn't sorry about it. Hawke is convinced she's in good company on that particular fact. "That being said, Varric's fond of him, and that would make him the one and only Qunari I can say that of. He's much slower to like people than I am, I fall in platonic love at first sight regularly." Hawke doesn't like everyone, but when she does feel engaged with someone on a friendly level, she tends to bond quickly.

Hawke chuckles. "I don't know why people want to rule the world anyway. It sounds like so much work. I had to put up with one city, I wasn't even running it at the time but I had to be engaged, and that was terribly exhausting." And awful really. Yuck. Hawke's smile is touched with sadness, waving a hand as if waving off her death and the grief therein. That's something Future Hawke might have to feel. "I knew I wasn't meant to live long. I could've chosen a safer path, but it would've been boring."

[tevinteraltus]

"Well, we don't precisely have any allies we can call upon for aid, now do we?" He chuckles at that, shaking his head. "It's a point of national pride, after all, going it alone." He rolled his shoulder in a shrug, though. "That being said, The Iron Bull serves as one of the few practicing Qunari I've ever met, even if he has since abandoned his beliefs for individuality. I believe him to be...singular at any rate, and...I'm pleased to have met him." And that will, most likely, be the most description of feeling he's going to provide on the matter at the moment.

He smiles at her story, though, a hint of sadness. Oh, he wouldn't have minded counting himself among Hawke's companions, he thinks. No, most certainly not. "Well, you've certainly seen to it life at your side is never boring, Hawke. I'm honored to have met you."

[championofsnark]

Hawke smiles at him. "Good thing that you were more comfortable with allies. There'd be no winning against Corypheus if you lot tried that route. Although I wish I could believe it wouldn't take a world ending threat to make people work together." But she doesn't believe it, because people were hot messes even if they seemed like they weren't. "So you are able to work well with others and he's able to be more independent, what a perfect way to meet in the middle." The problem with being befriended by Hawke (whether you like it or not) is she always finds reasons to tease. She puts up her hands. "I'll stop, it's just fun, I can't help it."

Her eyes widen slightly at the sincerity and she's honestly touched by it. This is typically the time when she would say something to laugh and change the subject, because she's never been good at taking compliments for all her airy confidence. "That's terribly sweet and it hurts me not to awkwardly dance my way out of feeling things about it, so I'm just going to thank you."

[tevinteraltus]

He chuckles, a playful if slightly sardonic sound, and he waves his hand dismissively at the lot of it.

"Maker's name, please do. All of this is thoroughly maudlin. I say we return to jesting at one another's expense posthaste lest we bond or something similarly sickening."

The curl of his lip suggests he's teasing as well, of course.

[championofsnark]

"Ew, bonding, that implies caring and who wants that? That's borderline offensive!" Hawk laughs, her dark eyes dancing. "Alright how about I throw jokes at you until I get you to laugh?" She is dedicated.


[Maybe wrap on this too! More to come!]