ic inbox;; drift fleet

[fantachetic]

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[fantachetic]

[ Dorian's shoulders stiffen at the insinuation that he's looked less than his best, but Bull sees things better than most people. ]

We had a disagreement. I was a bit too honest with her, and she didn't take kindly to that.

[theirondragon]

[Yeah, that's not something he's never heard before.]

So, you guys had a fight and stopped talking to each other. [Oooh.] You hadn't talked to her, had you?

[fantachetic]

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.

[theirondragon]

[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.

[fantachetic]

It may come as a surprise to you, but apologies come very few and far between in Tevinter. [ Or at least in the Altus class. They have that luxury. ]

[ 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.

[theirondragon]

Good thing we're not in Tevinter.

[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.

[fantachetic]

No..we didn't, but we were rarely separable for a time. We shared quarters on the Blue Fish before you got here.

That doesn't--!! [ Dorian squeezes the bridge of his nose, sighing. ] It's not quite the same thing, Bull.

[theirondragon]

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.

[fantachetic]

We should at the very least find the cause to ensure it doesn't happen again.

[ He can't guarantee that it won't happen again, though it likely won't happen with Leilani again. He knows his tongue gets him into trouble, among other things. ]

Mine will suffice. [ It will be nice to have favorable company, at least. ]

[theirondragon]

Yeah. [Heading towards his shuttle.] After we've gotten some sleep, and I don't know about you, but I don't feel like that's happening any time soon.

[He opens the hatch to his shuttle.] I'll follow you, I guess.

[Or maybe these things were programmed, who knows.]

[fantachetic]

[ Dorian laughs a bit hollowly, settling into the shuttle and putting in their destination. ]

You say that as if we both won't fit.

[theirondragon]

[It doesn't take much prodding to get Bull to follow him into the shuttle, and he heads in after him.]

I'm not that big, but thanks. Aren't these things ship-specific?

[fantachetic]

They go from ship-to-ship, do they not? I see why you wouldn't be able to take the shuttle to your own, later.

[theirondragon]

[Now that Dorian mentioned it, this shuttle was identical to the one he'd flown here.]

Do they go back on their own?

[Most of the time, he just didn't think about the tech. Then he did...and it got weird.]

[fantachetic]

I hadn't given it much thought. [ He waves a hand flippantly. ]

[theirondragon]

[He blinks and shakes his head, looking forward, in whatever direction they're headed.]

I'm thinking about something more than you. [A scoff.] Shit, I'm glad I bought the hard stuff.

[fantachetic]

Why would you ever think about something other than me?

[ He knows exactly what Bull means, but he reserves the right to be a bit of a shit right now, also flirting is a good buffer between him and feelings. He hums in agreement about the quality of their liquor. ]

Quite.

[theirondragon]

[Years of Ben-Hassrath training are all that keep Bull from actually looking surprised at Dorian's flirting. All he'd ever done before was abjectly deny it. Still, Bull was no stranger to flirting, either, and instead of surprise, he smirks and nods, conceding Dorian's point.]

You think I can't think about you and other shit at the same time? If you're that distracting, you're going to have to prove it.

[fantachetic]

[ Oh, a challenge, was it? He can certainly be distracting, but perhaps now is not the time for that particular form of distraction. Bull needed someone to talk to. Someone to help process all that shit that went down.. Maybe he can help Dorian make sense of it, too.

Dorian leads them down the hall and to his room once more. It feels a bit more welcoming than sitting in the cramped kitchen. It will be more private, as well. Not the greatest subject matter to be discussing in the open. It's far too vulnerable. ]

Perhaps I'll take you up on that at another time.

[theirondragon]

[Talking isn't something Bull normally wants to do when it's bad things. Feelings in general, sure, but did he want to talk about this? With Dorian? Now? After dropping the bombshell that Leilani was dead? Not really. He hadn't even included he'd been the one to kill her. He wasn't planning on it, either.

Dorian's bedroom was actually familiar, and taking a seat on that bed was nice. He hadn't actually realized how weary his bones were until they were on something comfortable. Shit.]

Yeah? No time like the present, right?

[fantachetic]

Indeed.

[ He shoulders his grief as best he can until the door to his room closes and they're alone. Only then does he allow his shoulders to drop as he sits on the steamer trunk at the end of his bed. Dorian is tired- in body and heart, but it's a comfort that he's in familiar company. Maker, he needs another drink. ]

Do you intend to share, or are you having a one-person party over there?

[theirondragon]

[If Dorian doesn't like this, he can just deal with the fact that he opened himself up for it. The Bull had bought two bottles, but, while he did hold one out, he didn't move any closer.]

Or, you know, you could come over here and we could party together.

[fantachetic]

[ While he's not too keen on closing the respectable distance between them, Dorian's hand itches to hold the bottle. To have something he knows he can rely on until he gets absolutely, irresponsibly drunk. Scooting up, Dorian does move to the bed to sit next to Bull. Closer to the alcohol, he tells himself.

Which he promptly takes from Bull, opens, and takes a hearty drink despite the burn in his throat. ]

[theirondragon]

[See, there's a reason Bull bought more than one bottle because he laughs while he's opening the other one, but it's an appreciative laugh. It's a laugh borne of amusement at something real, normal, and not the least bit completely fucked.]

Nice! [And he raises his own bottle in a sort of...mock toast.] To getting totally fucked up and not thinking about fucking zombies.

[and he takes a really healthy hit of his own bottle, and exhales hard at the burn going down. That was good. That was very good.]

[fantachetic]

[ Dorian has to clear his throat from the burn, his eyes watering, but he doesn't regret the strength nor the quantity. It's helping to process everything Bull's told him. The more numb he is, the better it will be later on. Tomorrow, he may hate himself, but that is a problem for future Dorian. ]

Not thinking about zombies, indeed. [ His voice is a bit raspy from the drink, but it doesn't stop him from having another. Here is to not thinking about how his best friend died and he wasn't there. Here is to being utterly useless in a situation that could have benefited from his expertise. ]