ic inbox;; drift fleet

[fantachetic]

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[theirondragon]

[He chuckled, shaking his head.]

Hey, I like them, remember? [And a shrug.] They came in pretty colors.

[The shuttles are so small, and this place is bigger than his own ship. That's annoying.]

So, I'm a guest, right? Aren't you supposed to offer me something to drink or something?

[samahl]

For now, you have me?

[He offers. He tilts his head a bit, trying to look at Dorian's face but in an unobtrusive way.]

I'm yours for as long as we're both here.

[samahl]

Speaking of...

[He moves closer, clearly wanting to go in for a kiss.]

[fantachetic]

[ Well, how can he misinterpret that? Dorian is more than happy to oblige, his hands resting on Cyril's hips. ]

[fantachetic]

[ He can't think of what to say- nothing eloquent comes to mind, and it's getting rather difficult not to sound like a simpleton. ]

I..Thank you.

[samahl]

[Cyril lets himself enjoy the kiss, drawing it out for as long as he could. He is letting himself treasure Dorian for a bit.

When he pulls away he smiles at Dorian.]

Bed?

[samahl]

[Cyril moves to sit with Dorian and settles a hand on his leg.]

I will be here any time you need me, to offer a distraction, to talk, to sit here in silence. You tell me what you want.

[fantachetic]

Insatiable. [ Not that he's complaining, really. He pulls Cyril back toward the bed with him. ]

[theirondragon]

[Bull's not a stranger to grief. He's had to tell fathers, mothers, wives, daughters, and sons people weren't coming home. He's seen the same thing in his boy's eyes when one of them didn't walk away from a job, and he'd known Dorian and Leilani were close even before he agreed to meet him here.

Still, someone had to tell him, and it may as well have been him. He could take it, and he could be a shoulder. He had two pretty big ones, after all. He didn't have the bond with Leilani that he did with his boss, but it was getting there. She had a lot in common with Brionne, actually and he couldn't help it. He was glad he'd been there to put her to rest properly, at least. She deserved that.

He didn't have much in the way of comfort, except that the undead were unfeeling, and based on the wound she'd suffered, she passed out before she died, and she would have bled out fast.]

I'm sorry. I know you two were close. It's not much, but she didn't suffer long.

[fantachetic]

[ Dorian huffs, shaking his head. He's not entirely certain what he wants. Mostly, he'd like to drink some more, but he can't exactly do that with company. He would much rather not be a sloppy drunk in front of Cyril. Instead, he simply leans against him, resting his head upon Cyril's shoulder. ]

This is sufficient.

[samahl]

You're acting as if anyone could have enough of you. [He teases, certainly pleased to have Dorian pull him.]

[samahl]

[Cyril shifts his arm to wrap his arm around Dorian.]

Then this is where I'll be.

[fantachetic]

I've been told on occasion that I can be a bit much to handle.

[ Of course, it wasn't quite the same words, but being in Tevinter, one had to learn how to read between the lines. ]

They're wrong, naturally, or at the very least have horrid taste.

[samahl]

I hope I've never given you reason to think I have horrid taste.

[He speaks as he also paws a bit at Dorian, wanting to start getting them both naked.]

[fantachetic]

[ Thankfully getting undressed isn't a complicated endeavor, today. Dorian is starting to have quite the affinity for modern clothing. He slides his hands under Cyril's shirt, traveling up his back. ]

None whatsoever.

[fantachetic]

[ It's not an entirely bad place to be, all things considered. He could be drinking himself into a stupor. Alone. Perhaps not the best choice, but he's so remarkably good at it by now.

An arm slides around him and he returns the favor. Yes, this is favorable for now. ]

[samahl]

Oh. Good.

[He replies with a grin, though he seems way more concerned with pulling off clothes and trailing his fingers over Dorian's skin.]

[fantachetic]

[ Later, Dorian will be grateful that Bull told him, but in the moment, the news does nothing but sit heavily on his chest and in his mind. Leilani died. She died and he wasn't there. If he hadn't been such a stubborn prat, she wouldn't have been on that damn waystation in the first place- or at least not without him. She didn't suffer long is little consolation.

She suffered. Had bled out- possibly alone. His mind keeps replaying their last conversation together, plunging the knife further into his chest and twisting painfully. Leilani had died angry with him.

The booth that they're sitting at feels too small, suddenly, leaving his skin tingling. He needs to leave. Bull doesn't want to witness Dorian become even more of a mess than he is now, and it's within reach. What he truly needs is to lock himself in that barren room of his and drink himself into a stupor.

His two best friends in the entire world were dead, and he feels so, so alone in a bar filled with people. He glances at Bull as neutrally as he can muster, shifting in his seat and glancing quickly to the door. ]

[ Abruptly: ] I should go.

[ Before the foundations of his facade crack irreparably and he's left horribly embarrassed. ]

[theirondragon]

[One didn't need years of Ben-Hassrath training to see the cracks forming in that careful veneer of his. He recognized the fear in his eyes for what it was, the realization you're being caught in an avalanche and that you're willing to literally anything to avoid all the falling rocks.

It usually resulted in some pretty stupid decisions. It occurred to Bull it was possible Dorian had never, until this moment, experienced the loss of a friend to sudden death. The other Vint had been his friend, Felix, but he'd had the Blight sickness. Dorian had had time to come to terms with that one.

He reaches across the booth, meeting Dorian's eyes pretty intensely considering he's only got the one eye to stare with.]

Calm down.

[His tone's different, gentler than Dorian's probably ever heard it before.] Take a breath.

[Commanding, but not dominating. It's a voice that's meant to bring order to thoughts that are obviously running rampant through his mind.] Hold it, and let it out slowly.

[fantachetic]

[ It's a funny situation, isn't it? Someone so close to death, so practiced in its nature and its magic this affected by it. Felix had been on borrowed time, but Leilani? She'd survived so much more before this, and something dead had killed her. Made her suffer. Made her one of them.. His thoughts are spiraling again, but Bull's voice pulls him out of his head.

He manages to look at Bull, and Dorian doesn't expect to find the look that's on his face. It surprises him. Even more surprising, there's comfort to be found, and he actually follows Bull's instructions. He takes a breath, unaware that he'd even been holding it in the first place and does as he's told.

Oddly, it does make him feel better, but he is still fighting the urge to flee and lick his wounds in private. Once he has a little more control over himself, he snaps his hands off the table. ]

I'm not a child.

[theirondragon]

I never said you were.

[His tone's the same, though, gentle but not demeaning.]

But I get not wanting to stick around here. There's a lot of people. How about we take a tankard or two to go?

[fantachetic]

[ Dorian doesn't understand why he's being so understanding and nice given the shit he'd just gone through himself. Bull's gentle voice should make him angrier in the situation, but it doesn't.

He just feels tired and wants to leave. Dorian nods his agreement to the suggestion. ]

That would be ideal.

[theirondragon]

[Bull nods. It's not like he's psychic or anything, but Dorian's not nearly as hard to read as he thinks he is, either. Not to mention, Bull's mind's sort of going in the same direction. There are a lot of people here.

As for being understanding, taking care of other people in is Bull's nature. He doesn't have anything against Dorian. The mage has proven himself to be the antithesis of most people from his asshole country on more than one occasion, not to mention all the shit Bull knows he's stood up against that most people wouldn't dare.

He respects the guy, but he also understands up until joining the Inquisition, for all his swagger, Dorian's lived a pretty sheltered existence. He doesn't mind fronting for some hard stuff, stuff that's not meant to be drank all at once, two bottles of it actually, and motioning toward the door. Taking care of someone else was therapeutic for Bull in its own right, a comfort in the face of not being able to save people. Again.

Dorian's reaction to this, though, was severe, and it brought to mind something, as they left the bar, that he hadn't brought up with the mage yet.]

So...you knew Leilani a while, right? Is...she from your world?

[That's the only reason he can think he'd be this affected by it.]

[fantachetic]

[ Dorian follows the cue, getting up and heading for the exit. He waits outside for Bull to join him before heading to the shuttles. His reply to the question is terse, but not unkind. ]

She's not my Inquisitor. I met her when I first arrived here.

[theirondragon]

[He nodded, making a mental note to ask him who his Inquisitor was but some other time. This Dorian is just like the Dorian he knows, and he wants to keep it that way for now. Familiar is good.

Still, something he'd noted when he'd headed over to the First Breath a few days ago was still unexplained. Mostly because it wasn't isolated.]

Okay, so...what happened? You've looked rough for the past week, well...for you anyway.