There aren't just 'suddenly undead'. There had to be a source, surely. Someone on the waystation was responsible for it. Possibly the Atroma?? It's doubtful there's another necromancer in the fleet.
[ If a necromancer did this, he was sick. That thought digs at him the entire way there as he ponders over what that means. Nothing good, all things considered. The waystation had shut down, and that never bodes well for anything.
He meets Bull at the Space Bar as soon as he can get there. Honestly, he needs a drink, too. Despite that he's been practically been thriving on alcohol the past few days. To say he's concerned is an understatement. Dorian doesn't bother with the ruse of wine for this. A tankard of whatever swill they have on tap will suffice. It can be had in larger quantities. As for The Bull? He looks like hell, and the concern only grows in his expression.
He sets down a pitcher of the same amber ale he has in his own glass in the middle of the table. An offering, of sorts. ]
[Bull smiles when Dorian has a seat, not just because he's brought drinks, but because it's always nice to see a friendly face when things are fucking in your head.
When that face is as pretty at Dorian's, it's better. He nods his thanks at the drink, finishing off the one he's already bought for himself before just refilling his mug.]
Thanks. And look, I've seen your magic crap. I don't think this was magic. One moment, some fresh corpse is ripping some poor sap's throat out, the next, he's pulling himself off the floor...like a creepy ass puppet. These...things, they weren't people anymore, they moved weird, jerking like, you know? Like...something was moving them, but whatever it was had no idea how a body works. It only wanted one thing: meat. And it didn't care where it came from.
[ Dorian listens with rapt attention, trying to parse together what Bull had even encountered, but even with his extensive knowledge of his own craft, it's nothing like he's ever read before. He would take offense to 'magic crap', but this is Bull-speak for something that sets Dorian on edge.
The Iron Bull was nervous.
It's hard to imagine being in that same situation. What is there to do when your opponents get back up? Everything expires at a limit, but what Bull was talking about? The limit was very minuscule. Something so unnervingly single-minded only boded of ill. Wherever they came from, they need to find the source before it happens again at a much larger scale. ]
Yeah... [It made his skin crawl just thinking about it. He'd faced down madmen bent on his destruction, demons, the red templars...nothing had ever been so...empty.]
It's the brain. Cut off the head or bash it in hard enough and they stop moving...before that, you can cut off whatever you want. Cut them in half, and they just. Keep. Coming.
[He clenches his teeth, finishes off that second mug, and pours a third and downs half of it before setting the mug down...a little too forcefully.] And now they're gone. I guess because of the weird Atroma shit. I don't know.
[He licks his lips and looks over to Dorian.]
Dorian...Leilani was there. When we found her...it was too late.
[ He can't say it doesn't make sense- cut off the source of power to eliminate the problem, but it still seems so barbaric. Something that has no self-preservation, no mind of its own save for trying to sate a hunger it will never reach.. It's a very desolate existence that defies all natural and unnatural laws.
They may be gone, but it's clear they still left an impression- particularly to those stuck with them. Bull's gaze is so all encompassing, and Dorian is trying to help him through this, but not quite sure how to. The somber change in discussion doesn't go unnoticed, and he feels like he stops being a part of the conversation as he says what he needs to.
An unbidden rush of agony drowns him in that moment, and it's difficult to parse what's going on around them- all sound has dulled, like being trapped under water, and even Bull's voice feels further away than he actually is.
Leilani is dead. He pushed her away when she needed him, and he lost a friend. He had assumed that he could potentially tuck his tail between his legs and apologize eventually, but that moment is gone. She died alone and he wasn't there.
He lets out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, trying to school the look of agony on his face. It takes rather longer than he wants, and his grip on his drink tightens. ]
I... I see.
[ He doesn't want to be here. This doesn't feel real. This is some sick, cosmic joke in a long line of jokes at his expense. ]
[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.
[ 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. ]
[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.
[ 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. ]
[ 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. ]
[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.]
[ 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.
[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.
We were talking of her relationship and I shared my opinions rather cruelly. She left, and I let her. Pride got in the way, and it serves me right that I lost her friendship.
[You know...he knows the guy can be overdramatic (have you seen him?) but seriously?]
...people fight, Dorian. They storm off in a huff, people get their feelings hurt, things settle down, they talk again, sometimes they apologize, sometimes one does, sometimes they both do. If you were talking about something like that, humans and elves are pretty touchy about that shit, but I doubt you lost her friendship over it.
[He smirks slightly.]
You're both stubborn as hell but you're not that petty. She was...pretty damned understanding. Reminded me a lot of my boss back home, actually. She probably just needed some time to think about what happened...then...shit went sideways. That's not your fault.
[And that is all he's going to say on that, and he shook his head at the latter.]
Yeah, and if we'd been psychic, we could have seen Corypheus was coming before the Templars ever crossed the mountains and maybe all the innocent people in Haven wouldn't have died, either. Are you saying you went everywhere with her? All the time? You can think about maybes all night, Dorian, but the fact of the matter is she went to the waystation. Alone. Just like I did. Maybe she wanted a cheap soda, who knows? You didn't send the crazy undead there, and she wasn't the only one who didn't walk off that station, either. It's not. Your. Fault.
It's not that different, either. No one knew that would happen. [He scoffs.] Hell, I don't think anyone really knows what did happen. I get you wish whatever you said to her hadn't been the last thing, but...sometimes...shit happens, and people die, and you never get to change how. All you can do is learn from it. Don't let it happen again.
[And then they were at the shuttles.]
Your place or mine? My vote's for yours. It's bigger.
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chiming
no subject
Date: 2018-06-12 02:32 am (UTC)From:There were a lot of undead.
Suddenly.
A lot of innocent folks who won't be making it to whatever place they were heading to.
I think I'm going to head to the Iskaulit. It's loud there.
You know. Better.
And I need a drink. Or 12.
no subject
Date: 2018-06-12 02:37 am (UTC)From:Someone on the waystation was responsible for it. Possibly the Atroma??
It's doubtful there's another necromancer in the fleet.
I'll meet you there.
no subject
Date: 2018-06-12 02:42 am (UTC)From:Okay. I'll be at Space Bar.
I'll explain what I mean.
[And after a very brief pause.]
Thanks, Dorian.
no subject
Date: 2018-06-12 02:50 am (UTC)From:He meets Bull at the Space Bar as soon as he can get there. Honestly, he needs a drink, too. Despite that he's been practically been thriving on alcohol the past few days. To say he's concerned is an understatement. Dorian doesn't bother with the ruse of wine for this. A tankard of whatever swill they have on tap will suffice. It can be had in larger quantities. As for The Bull? He looks like hell, and the concern only grows in his expression.
He sets down a pitcher of the same amber ale he has in his own glass in the middle of the table. An offering, of sorts. ]
no subject
Date: 2018-06-12 02:57 am (UTC)From:When that face is as pretty at Dorian's, it's better. He nods his thanks at the drink, finishing off the one he's already bought for himself before just refilling his mug.]
Thanks. And look, I've seen your magic crap. I don't think this was magic. One moment, some fresh corpse is ripping some poor sap's throat out, the next, he's pulling himself off the floor...like a creepy ass puppet. These...things, they weren't people anymore, they moved weird, jerking like, you know? Like...something was moving them, but whatever it was had no idea how a body works. It only wanted one thing: meat. And it didn't care where it came from.
no subject
Date: 2018-06-12 03:03 am (UTC)From:The Iron Bull was nervous.
It's hard to imagine being in that same situation. What is there to do when your opponents get back up? Everything expires at a limit, but what Bull was talking about? The limit was very minuscule. Something so unnervingly single-minded only boded of ill. Wherever they came from, they need to find the source before it happens again at a much larger scale. ]
They must have had something stop them.
no subject
Date: 2018-06-12 03:09 am (UTC)From:It's the brain. Cut off the head or bash it in hard enough and they stop moving...before that, you can cut off whatever you want. Cut them in half, and they just. Keep. Coming.
[He clenches his teeth, finishes off that second mug, and pours a third and downs half of it before setting the mug down...a little too forcefully.] And now they're gone. I guess because of the weird Atroma shit. I don't know.
[He licks his lips and looks over to Dorian.]
Dorian...Leilani was there. When we found her...it was too late.
no subject
Date: 2018-06-13 12:24 am (UTC)From:They may be gone, but it's clear they still left an impression- particularly to those stuck with them. Bull's gaze is so all encompassing, and Dorian is trying to help him through this, but not quite sure how to. The somber change in discussion doesn't go unnoticed, and he feels like he stops being a part of the conversation as he says what he needs to.
An unbidden rush of agony drowns him in that moment, and it's difficult to parse what's going on around them- all sound has dulled, like being trapped under water, and even Bull's voice feels further away than he actually is.
Leilani is dead. He pushed her away when she needed him, and he lost a friend. He had assumed that he could potentially tuck his tail between his legs and apologize eventually, but that moment is gone. She died alone and he wasn't there.
He lets out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, trying to school the look of agony on his face. It takes rather longer than he wants, and his grip on his drink tightens. ]
I... I see.
[ He doesn't want to be here. This doesn't feel real. This is some sick, cosmic joke in a long line of jokes at his expense. ]
no subject
Date: 2018-06-14 03:01 am (UTC)From: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.
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Date: 2018-06-14 04:16 am (UTC)From: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. ]
no subject
Date: 2018-06-14 04:28 am (UTC)From: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.
no subject
Date: 2018-06-14 04:44 am (UTC)From: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.
no subject
Date: 2018-06-14 05:03 am (UTC)From:[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?
no subject
Date: 2018-06-14 05:08 am (UTC)From:He just feels tired and wants to leave. Dorian nods his agreement to the suggestion. ]
That would be ideal.
no subject
Date: 2018-06-14 05:16 am (UTC)From: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.]
no subject
Date: 2018-06-14 03:30 pm (UTC)From:She's not my Inquisitor. I met her when I first arrived here.
no subject
Date: 2018-06-14 03:47 pm (UTC)From: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.
no subject
Date: 2018-06-14 03:57 pm (UTC)From:We had a disagreement. I was a bit too honest with her, and she didn't take kindly to that.
no subject
Date: 2018-06-14 04:04 pm (UTC)From:So, you guys had a fight and stopped talking to each other. [Oooh.] You hadn't talked to her, had you?
no subject
Date: 2018-06-14 04:14 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2018-06-14 04:26 pm (UTC)From:...people fight, Dorian. They storm off in a huff, people get their feelings hurt, things settle down, they talk again, sometimes they apologize, sometimes one does, sometimes they both do. If you were talking about something like that, humans and elves are pretty touchy about that shit, but I doubt you lost her friendship over it.
[He smirks slightly.]
You're both stubborn as hell but you're not that petty. She was...pretty damned understanding. Reminded me a lot of my boss back home, actually. She probably just needed some time to think about what happened...then...shit went sideways. That's not your fault.
no subject
Date: 2018-06-14 04:49 pm (UTC)From:[ History has taught him that people absolutely will cut off ties with him for transgressions of this magnitude. ]
Perhaps, but if I'd not said what I did, there's a chance she wouldn't have been there alone.
no subject
Date: 2018-06-14 05:06 pm (UTC)From:[And that is all he's going to say on that, and he shook his head at the latter.]
Yeah, and if we'd been psychic, we could have seen Corypheus was coming before the Templars ever crossed the mountains and maybe all the innocent people in Haven wouldn't have died, either. Are you saying you went everywhere with her? All the time? You can think about maybes all night, Dorian, but the fact of the matter is she went to the waystation. Alone. Just like I did. Maybe she wanted a cheap soda, who knows? You didn't send the crazy undead there, and she wasn't the only one who didn't walk off that station, either. It's not. Your. Fault.
no subject
Date: 2018-06-16 04:34 am (UTC)From:That doesn't--!! [ Dorian squeezes the bridge of his nose, sighing. ] It's not quite the same thing, Bull.
no subject
Date: 2018-06-16 05:00 am (UTC)From:[And then they were at the shuttles.]
Your place or mine? My vote's for yours. It's bigger.
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