Dorian Pavus (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tevintage) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-12-31 05:12 pm
tevintage) wrote in thecapitol2014-12-31 05:12 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
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.
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.
no subject
"Look, what makes you so damn sure that it is? In about two minutes I saw you throw lightning, fire and..." she has to think back, "Ice? I like to think that out of the hundreds of thousands of biotics in the galaxy, we'd have figured it out if we were capable of that."
The Asari, at least, wouldn't have been able to shut up about it.
"Biotics do one thing, and one thing only-- you can get pretty creative with how you apply it, but in the end, that's all we've got."
no subject
He frowned a bit. "I think I would need a deeper definition of biotics, but it certainly seems to overlap with specific branches of magic. Even if it is a completely separate practice - I have absolutely no doubt that it would be classified magic. You do, after all, influence phsyical forces with your mind, do you not? You already said that you manipulated gravity. Last I checked, that was a phsysical force." He offered her a smirk, there.
"But yes - my range of abilities is much larger, but I am an extremely adept mage. Beyond elemental magic, I generally specialize in working with spirits. Necromancy, if your culture has such a word. I'm hardly an average example of citizens of Thedas."
no subject
Because, of course, he had killed her; he'd blindsided her, had the advantage, and maybe that was turnabout as fair play, but gloating made no friends with her. Shepard was really beginning to look forward to caving this guy's head in.
"Y'know what, I don't think I can keep having this conversation without breaking your nose, and I'm real tired of spending time in jail, so-- Listen, fuck you."
no subject
But, well, he was hated, more often than not, for his magic - especially in Ferelden - so it was hardly a new concept to him.
"Oh, so soon? Here I thought we were getting on so well. Should I be happy that at least here you attempted dialogue before throwing me into a wall?"
He really should just keep his mouth shut.
no subject
It's sad, really. So much self-control, but then shit just keeps falling out of her mouth. Still, she couldn't deny, it felt pretty good.
"This is me, being nice."
no subject
"Are you going to tell me about how much I don't want to see you when you've forgotten your manners?"
no subject
But there were times, such as this for an example, where words were useless and she fell back on the one thing that had never once failed her; violence.
Shepard didn't miss a beat, didn't say a word, didn't give any warning. She pivoted neatly on her heel and struck Dorian full in the face with her fist and all the force of arm, height, and weight behind it. It hurt. It felt so good.
"What manners?" She said, then turned just as smartly, and strode away.
no subject
He coughed, spitting up a bit of blood, and then made a low frustrated sound. He'd accidentally bit his cheek during the punch. Excellent. Rubbing his jaw carefully he stood back up, smirking even though it hurt.
Maker, but he'd gotten under her skin. And it had just felt so good.