(no subject)

[tevintage]

Who| Dorian + OPEN
What| Dorian is quite determined to distract himself, and luckily, the Capitol provides ample opportunity
Where| District 7, out on the streets, a random bar somewhere in the capitol
When| spanning a week from the end of the arena on
Warnings/Notes| none yet, possible spoilers for Dragon Age: Inquisition but I'll keep it to a minimum

DISTRICT 7 SUITES

It had been a hectic day, racing around to find those he knew from home, but it hadn't ended as sweetly as he would have liked. The depression had settled on him like a heavy blanket, pulling down the edges. He was already trying to compartmentalize it away, to shut it somewhere deep and dark and not touch it again. He knew it would happen eventually and now it had, and the last thing he wanted to do was deal with it.

So he stepped back into his suites (having finally, finally figured out the 'elevators') and decided to do a thorough inventory of what was actually available to him here. He started with the common room. Turning every screen on (once he could figure out how), fiddling with the windows (if they were windows), slamming through the kitchen and opening and shutting the fridge with a frown (some kind of ice magic?).

There was only one thing that was bothering him incredibly deeply about it.

"But where are the books?"

OUT ON THE STREETS

He'd fallen asleep on the couch of the District 7 common room, having not been able to quite face his own quarters. When he woke he didn't want to be there at all, so exploring it was, and after a shower (which took him an hour and two avoxes to figure out), he strode out of the Tribute Tower and into the streets of the Capitol, determined to distract himself. And maybe find a bookstore in the process.

However, he stood out like a sore thumb - one shoulder bare in the middle of winter - and he had not expected it to be COLD - and he kept getting stopped by strangers asking to touch his mustache.

DOWN IN THE BAR

Inevitably, night after night, Dorian found himself in one of the bars in the Capitol. He was still having a difficult time facing his quarters, and nothing was better for distraction than a bar full of people who were at once utterly inane and completely irreverent - who could not see the world for more than four feet in front of them and those four feet were devoted to hedonism. It was completely natural to pretend that he was completely devoted to hedonism as well.

And a nice bottle of Brandy.

That, and the locals were very generous with their free drinks.

Comments

District 7 represent!

[ruffntumblenut]

There was a groan from somewhere in the dining area at his question and a head popped out from under the table. She had been hidden by the table cloth but squinted at him now in a scrutinizing sort of way.

Her hair was a mess compared to most of the people in the building. It stuck out every which way and was collected into some hasty braids. There were bags under her eyes and a smudge on her cheek, frosting?

"Why would they have books around here? They hate smart people."

high fiiiive

[tevintage]

Luckily for Dorian, he had just been getting used to life in Ferelden, so unkempt hair was, unfortunately, the norm. Hiding under tables and some sort of sugary substance on the cheek however?

Sounded like a long night.

He raised an eyebrow, bending over to see her better.

"Well, that explains why I'm here, at least. Who else would they sent to endless death and torture." He paused, then tilted his head. "Is there something I should know, or is it a cultural difference that sees you beneath the table?"

[ruffntumblenut]

It took Ruffnut a minute to realize what he was asking and she shrugged her shoulders.

"I like dark places when I'm in a bad mood. This was the closest I could get without leaving where all the food is." She pointed a long finger at the kitchen area where some food was on display while an Avox stood on hand to make more.

[tevintage]

He turned to look at where she was pointing, raising an eyebrow at the Avox posed obediently.

"Well. I'm in a spectacularly bad mood, interestingly enough, and they do say misery loves company."

He turned back, offering her a wry smirk. "Dorian Pavus," he said by way of introduction. "New arrival for - whatever in particular this is meant to be. Do you have room under the table for one more, or should I remove myself from the vicinity?"

[ruffntumblenut]

This came as an obvious surprise to Ruffnut. So much so she continued to look surprised even as she nodded and vanished under the table cloth to make room for him.

In the dim muted light under the table there were thick wooden legs all around them from the table itself and chairs. Even the bottom of the table was smoothed and polished to a shine except for one place where it appeared Ruffnut had been idly stabbing the wood with a fork.

Most of the space was taken up by snacks though. Cakes and cookies and fruit and wooden tower with little pockets of meat all around it. Different kinds of meat in little cubes and balls.

A large mug of steaming hot chocolate sat closest to Ruffnut who was perched on a cushion she'd obviously poached from the sofa.

"Ruffnut Thorston." She added remembering her manners much too late. "Of the Isle of Berk and I guess for now District Seven like you." She raised her hot chocolate in greeting.

bar time!

[carsassian]

Frankly, Garak preferred bars to the smaller, more intimate settings of the commons or public lounges. There was so much less opportunity for privacy at the smaller gatherings, so much that could be so much more effectively hidden in the hustle and bustle of the city. Thus, as someone who craved conversation without substantial commitment, Garak found himself milling and milling, and eventually at some bar or another. In addition to the entertainment offered by the patrons, he deeply admired the disappointed expressions on the faces of the barkeeps when he ordered nothing but coffee for hours.

As Dorian ordered his brandy over the bar, Garak gave him a firm once over. The newcomer had a pleasing enough, if distinctly foreign look to him. It, too, seemed to offer a sort of vague entertainment, or the potential of it.

"You should really try the coffee. I haven't heard anything about the brandy, but the coffee is spectacular." The barkeep tossed him a dirty look. Whatever became of the newcomer, this would be worth it.

[tevintage]

Dorian turned to the voice, taken aback immediately by the appearance. It wasn't that he hadn't known strange looking races - he'd been fighting alongside a Qunari before all this - but it still took him by surprise when he met someone that was so spectacularly different than his (as he was now realising) limited experience.

"Well, it should give me a good reason to return in the morning," He quipped, recovering quickly from his initial shock. He would have to ask SOMEONE what this person was, but- maybe later. For the moment, civility took precedence.

"But this brandy and I have already become firmly acquainted and he would be devastated if I were to abandon him tonight."

[carsassian]

"I was unaware the Capitol had managed to create sentient brandy." Garak smiled politely. It was expression of crinkled, leather-like skin, thin lips, and too pointed teeth. "Silly me! I should have never doubted them."

Abruptly, with an almost militaristic precision, Garak, pulled out the stool next to him at the bar. The young man with the stylish mustache would make for good company, if his quipping was any indication at all.

"And, anyway," he leaned toward Dorian, feigning a sort of secretive confiding. "Sentient brandy might be enough to keep you around until morning as it is." The effect was only minimally diminished by Garak's seeming inability to use an inside voice.

[tevintage]

"And here I had been thinking all brandy was sentient," Dorian mused, raising his glass and turning it in the dim light, before smirking and taking a sip. "Well, you can't fault it for trying, at least."

"Dorian, of the House of Pavus," he said by way of introduction. "Newly arrived Tribute, which, forgive me for saying, I believe must also be a title you share."

definitely hitting the bar

[revocation]

Contrary to what Varric might have people believe, Cullen does occasionally do thinks like drink. To relax, sometimes, or, at times like this, to drown his sorrows and self-medicate because he's basically had a low-level headache since his arrival.

He's still blaming all the bright lights, reflecting off shiny surfaces.

Of course, when he spots a familiar face, he makes a beeline for him, because if there's one thing he can appreciate, it's the fact that the others here from their world are as much out of their depth as he is.

"How are you holding up?" he asks, without any real preamble, taking a seat next to the Tevinter.

[tevintage]

"Oh, as well as could be managed, I think," Dorian said, making a hand motion for the bartender, who came over and poured two more brandies. Dorian slid one across the bar to Cullen.

"Not dead, surprisingly enough, given the past two weeks. Which must count in its favour. It's also been a few days since anyone tried to kill me, another plus. However, their selection of available literature is nearly bad enough to make a grown man cry. And you, Commander?"

[revocation]

"There have been remarkably few murder attempts," Cullen has to agree. "But everyone seems to know who I am. Complete strangers, even. It's... very disconcerting."

He takes a sip of his brandy.

"Sorry about the books."

[tevintage]

"At least it seems to be fame rather than notoriety," Dorian pointed out, leaning in to put both elbows on the table. "Have you seen the- ah Delepvision? No, that can't be right. That's how they know us. Every bar I go to enjoys showing me a vision of that woman I killed in the arena."

He says it flippantly, but it has been weighing on his mind, obviously.

"Better than being spit on as an 'evil Tevinter' but I wish it was good enough to get me some decent reference books."

District 7

[nineofwands]

Cassian was really good at not being noticed when he didn't want to be, most of the time he didn't even have to try; no one paid the 'kid' in the corner with the dark clothing very much mind. A window seat sort of set-up was where Cassian was perched when the crazy guy came through opening everything and putting his hands all over the place. Although, he wasn't too crazy, Cass had wondered at the fridge for a while himself.

Wherever the man went, brown eyes followed and when he'd finally spoken up, Cassian was pretty sure it was a general question, one he almost didn't answer.

"They don't keep 'em here, you gotta get them yourself." He pointed to what he'd recently found out was called a 'T.V.' "That's their version of books, it tells stories and that junk, when it's not talking about the Games."

[tevintage]

"This?" He asked rather skeptically as he gestured at it. He leaned in and turned it on again, just to catch it midway through an interview about the latest fashions inspired by the games. He made a bit of a face.

"If this is meant to be literature, I'm not surprised that we are deprived of books." He turned. "So where might one purchase them, if they are not provided?"

[nineofwands]

Cassian shrugged. Before showing up here and having his head messed with (a normal thing, apparently) he hadn't even been able to read a book, so the lack of them here hadn't really concerned him.

"They seem to have a store for just about everything else in this city, I'm sure there's one for books somewhere. Why's it so important to you?" Not that he cared, he was just bored and slightly curious.

[tevintage]

He raised his eyebrows.

"Why are they important to me? Why wouldn't they be important to me! Books are both the physical incarnation and summary of knowledge - it is how we distill everything we know and learn into a form that can be accessed by anyone with a will and a pair of eyes - or, well, one eye, even. They can lie, of course, they can manipulate, be written badly - but they are our greatest way to preserve knowledge against the endless destructive march of time."

Nothing quite makes him wax poetic like his library.

Streets

[carnagecarnival]

Trolls don't typically do the facial hair thing. Beards, moustaches, it just didn't happen. Except for on the Signless who was a mutant freak of nature, for reasons beyond, but still including, chin bristle mutations.

Humans, on the other hand, were another story. The tribute males (only ever the males for some reason) often had some sort of light growth upon their chins. Sometimes this became rather wild. Capitolites on the other hand always aimed for some form of whimsy. fantastical designs, strange colorations, gems, beading, foliage, all the more.

Then there was this motherfucker. Could he be a tribute? That was most likely. But all the same, he can't help but squint a little as he passes, arms full of new books from the Capitol library.

[tevintage]

"Yes that's very kind," Dorian was in the middle of saying, half with a sigh, "but I would really -- No, I don't have dinner plans but that doesn't mean- Excuse me, that's my mustache!" He pulled a little abruptly away from the gaggle, completely at a loss with his new found fame (which he considered pretty completely undeserved), when he spotted the Initiate. At first, he mistook him for Karkat, out of the corner of his eye. He hadn't seen much of the other troll, of course, before he'd attacked him, but even so after getting a better look he realised that it certainly wasn't the creature he'd met in the arenas.

This one-

This one had books.

"Ah, if you'll excuse me, that's my appointment," He lied to the crowd, beaming at them, before immediately cutting over to the Initiate's side. "How good to see you!" he said, a little stilted, before adding in a quick undertone, "Maker forgive me."

[carnagecarnival]

He's not the new shiny model what all is gaining Capitol favor. Even when he'd been so, he'd not been the motherfucking friendly sort as to these fishfucks. Now, he was an avox-- former he reminds himself. He'd be lucky to charm them. Watching this all, he almost feels sorry for the ninja.

But it seems it ain't so needed, what with how he figures his way on out and around. Using... him...

The Initiate takes a second to look from Dorian, to the crowd, then back again. He breaks into a grin. "WHY BROTHER, IT BE A PLEASURE FOR THIS MOTHERFUCKER ALSO! Shall we take our leave as to be about what business needs attending?"

[tevintage]

The volume was what was the most surprising - the blatant cursing almost seemed to fit it. Dorian wondered for half a breath if he'd made a terrible decision, but his desire to get away from the crowd was strong enough that he returned the grin.

"I believe we shall," he replied, hoping that he had parsed the question accurately. He gestured for them to start walking, and as they did so, he rambled.

"I see you managed to find some of the tomes we were speaking of - I've been dying to get my hands upon a History of Insects and Other Invertebrates since I arrived here in the capitol, they are the most fascinating creatures--"

The crowd, disappointed but not exactly interested in his nerdery, did not follow. When they were safely around the corner Dorian halted and let out a breath.

"My deepest apologies and sincerest gratitude - I thought I would never be rid of them."

streets

[earthborn]

"Dorian Pavus?"

It's the voice from behind him, unexpected, strident as a blade. She knows you, man, face and name-- do you know either of hers? The Capitol was dotted with little parks and plazas, pleasant gaps in the cityscape for artful plantscapes and smooth walkways, growing nothing less ornamental than grass. This one was round, paved in the mosaic of the Capitol Eagle in pale blue clay and white stone, with artfully curved stairways leading down on either side.

You had to walk up, down, and through it just to get down the street; even the Capitolites weren't absolved of obnoxious self-aggrandizement to the inconvenience and expense of all. Shepard was as she had ever been, standing three or four steps above him in the lee of the plaza, arms folded, expression implacable. This is the woman you killed, Pavus.

"Well? Are you?"

Re: streets

[tevintage]

He turned to the voice, and as soon as he saw her, he recognized her. His expression turned from one of curiousity to one of dread, before he tried to smile.

"Ah - yes. It seems now we can be more... well introduced," He said, lamely. What was he supposed to say? Hi, sorry for killing you? For himself - he looked much different than he had in the arena. No helmet, full or shattered, and his clothing and hair were careful and impeccable.

"You are... Commander Shepard, if I'm not mistaken." Of course he'd looked it up, afterward, once Venus taught him how to use the communicators.

[earthborn]

Behind her impassive, vaguely scowling mask, lie a secret smirk. She'd caught him flat-footed, and wasn't it nice to have the upper hand, for once?

"The same. Do you wanna take this chance to start making excuses or should I just skip to the part where I ask you what the hell you were thinking back there?"

Next to him, she did not cut any particularly impressive figure-- her hair was neat, if tousled, and the by-now almost iconic sheep puns had migrated from skinny sweatshirts to fleecy coats, complete with lamb-ears on the hood and little tinkly bells on the pull-strings. Damn it Claudia.

But she was mad, she had the high ground, and Commander Shepard was never anything less than the absolute master of her surroundings, no matter what she was wearing.

[tevintage]

"I thought that every single being in that arena was out to kill me," He said, simply. He felt incredibly bad about killing her, after he'd learned how the entire arena had been more than a little misrepresented in his initial debriefing, but he'd still done what was necessary.

He couldn't help just a little jab, though: "You didn't do much to dissuade that notion, if I recall."