[OPEN] ain't no party like a D̴̡̀R̶̵̶A̷̵̡̛͜G̷͟ ̀҉̸̀͢Q͝҉͟͏U҉͘͟͜͡Ȩ͜҉͞E̷͢Ņ ̷̷̕Ṕ̷̧̛͞A̷͟R̸̛̕Ţ̀́Y̵̴

[fuckingcool]

Who| Oceana Gunn and all you party people
What| Oceana's throwing the craziest party of the year to celebrate the end of the Arena, and you're invited. Feel free to mingle, post open starters, and tag around to your heart's content!
Where| Her bachelor(ette) pad in the Capitol
When| Post-Arena, pre-Crowning
Warnings/Notes| Uhhh. Drugs, alcohol, sex, language, etc are all possibilities within!



It's high time that someone threw a really great party in this town.

Oceana's been laying low, working on costumes for the upcoming Crowning and watching her babies kick ass in the Arena, but after a while she gets an itch. An itch to invite hundreds of strangers to her penthouse apartment, dress up in her most sickening clothes, and let the booze pour. So that's exactly what she does. Invitations are sent out, crates of liquor are ordered, food is catered in, and the lights are dimmed way down low.

Her apartment is spacious, minimally decorated because it looks fucking cool and she's barely around anyway, and full of dark corners. The living room has a huge table full of finger foods along one wall, a champagne fountain, and a full bar with virtually endless liquor. The music is loud as hell, and the drag queen has even gone to the trouble of paying people to come early and dance, so that the dance floor is never empty.

The hostess herself will be mingling all evening; the glass of vodka in her hand is never empty, and always garnished with at least six olives. She may not be the classiest bitch in the capitol, but it's apparent by looking around that she knows how to throw a killer soirée.

Comments

[dreadinquisitor]

"Among other things."

His eyes moved quickly over the man, deciding after a beat that he appeared physically well, then he moved closer, leaning against the banister beside him.

Dorian might not have remembered him, but he certainly remembered the mage. It took time, he knew, to bring up the other sort of hurts. The ones Dorian liked to pretend weren't there.

The words, cutting beneath the surface.

So, instead of asking what he really wanted to, he threaded his hands over the railing and said instead, "But at least with this lot I don't have to worry about getting poison in my dinner for using the wrong spoon."

[tevintage]

"I'm not so sure about that," Dorian said wryly. "You just might have to wait a few weeks until the poison arrives, perhaps."

He wasn't even so sure about that. Not if it were up to Jason.

He looked out over the city, dazzling with lights and noise, so bright the sky above them was dark enough to blot out the stars.

"Though I will be frank, and say I would give just about anything to be in Orlais instead of here - poisoned cups or no."

[dreadinquisitor]

His mouth twitched, a small humorless smile for the city as he bent against the railing and crossed one heel over the other. Playing relaxed, when he was anything but.

Perhaps someday he might be able to face the magic without the low ache carving all the deeper beneath his ribs, but tonight was not that night.

"I suppose it might almost be flattering, if they went through the trouble considering what awaits."

He took a breath and let it let it out slowly.

"And I'd be more worried if you didn't. No one should be here."

[tevintage]

"Don't be - lingering maliciousness and cruelty seem more of a passtime than anything methodically planned and considered. They might just send poison because they forgot which of us slighted them, but, may as well ensure someone pays for it."

He sighed, and then cast Maxwell a glance. "You should not worry about me at all. Everything here, I can handle."

[dreadinquisitor]

"Too late for that, I'm afraid," he replied, bemused. The ironic truth of it almost more than he could stand. (They'd had this argument before. More than once. But he never stopped, and neither did Dorian.)

Looking over, he arched a dark brow.

"Especially considering you've just all but said that there is a problem."

[tevintage]

"I--" Maker blast everything. He barely knew Maxwell, but there was something so painfully familiar about him that it made his chest ache, hollowly.

"Whether or not there is a problem, it is mine, and I can deal with it," He said finally. "I see you keep the streak for helpfulness beyond the ridiculous I've so come to expect from the Inquisitor."

[dreadinquisitor]

"And I see you're every bit the stubborn ass I knew you to be," he said without missing a beat, affection there, softly, in the words. Almost smiling as he watched the man's face.

He might have let himself, if he didn't worry the mage might take that moment to suddenly regain his knack for setting things on fire. Slowly, carefully, he wrangled it back.

"There's no shame in help, Dorian. ...It's what friends are for."

[tevintage]

He actually laughed at that. A single, piercing, 'Ha!'. "I can hardly deny the description."

He really was very stubborn.

"And I--" He hesitated, frowning. Friends. Right. For a moment there, he'd sounded so much like Gavin-- He shoved it away, hard.

"If I thought anyone could help, it would be different. But with this particular problem, the farther you are all away from it, the better."

[dreadinquisitor]

He did smile then, the sound of the laugh touching something warm and light inside him. Happier memories overlapping: other laughs, other jokes, the way his eyes lit when he-- With a shake of his head, he pushed them back again, smothered the small, flickering heat in his chest before it had a chance to breathe.

(He wasn't going to go there, he'd decided. After Cassandra, after saying more than he should have to her.... and with everything - everyone - else. No.)

"Maybe," he allowed after a moment, nodding slowly, as if considering it. "But maybe not. You could always lay out the details, and let me decide."

[tevintage]

He looked away then, frowning.

"If it's all the same, this particular one I'd rather not." He couldn't even bear to tell Cassandra or Cullen what had been said, threatened. Part of it was shame - part of it fear. He did not want any of them to think of him as a coward.

"Suffice to say that my current Escort has taken it upon himself to 'keep me in line'."

[dreadinquisitor]

His hands twitched, the urge to reach out tingling in his fingertips before he'd even consciously thought about it. Instead, he let the quick, easy heat of anger curl them instead.

"By...?" He watched Dorian's profile carefully. "I've known bigger men who've tried to repress you, Dorian, and failed. ...Did he threaten you? Or us?"

[tevintage]

It helped, he realised, not to look at Maxwell's face. Because if he did, the words and the face jarred, made no sense. Here was the face of a stranger, but here were the words of a close friend. Few outside of the Inner Circle knew about Dorian's father.

Save, apparently, for Jason.

"Bigger men when I was still able to electrocute them alive, if I chose to," Dorian said wryly, avoiding the direct question. "If I thought it was more than I could handle alone, that would be a different story."

[dreadinquisitor]

"That doesn't mean you should always have to," he said softly, but insistently. Someday, perhaps, if he simply said it enough, the man might believe it.

A part of him did doubt it, but that wasn't going to stop him from trying.

"Even if it's just someone to carry the weight of it, if even for a short time."

[tevintage]

"You'll forgive me if this particular weight is not one I would wish to share with anyone," Dorian said, fingers idly flecking at the paint chipping on the iron wrought railing.

"Inquisitor - Maxwell. I have to imagine that the man you know that bares my face is almost identical to me, and if that's the case-" He turned his face to look at him, brows knitted.

A stranger, where a friend should be.

"If that's the case, then you must know that I need to deal with this one on my own."

[dreadinquisitor]

He met Dorian's eyes, and held them for a long moment - string of heartbeats where it seemed like he might keep trying - but then he took a breath, and straightened up from the railing.

"Alright, Dorian. I understand. I don't like it... but I understand."

He hadn't liked the man's decision to leave Skyhold either, but he'd understood why he'd wanted to. Why he needed to. And given his own time, Dorian had partly come around.

Perhaps he would again.

"If you change your mind, I'm-- we're here."

And if he didn't, surely there wouldn't be any harm in keeping an eye on the escort.

[tevintage]

He relaxed slightly as Maxwell let it go, turning his head back and nodding.

"Yes. I'm not wholly an idiot, you know," He murmured. "If I get over my head... you'll know. I won't risk everything for something like pride. But nor would I endanger or worry you all needlessly."

[dreadinquisitor]

"I never said you were." His hands slipped over the iron and he turned to face him. "And it's never needless. Not when it's the people you care about."

[tevintage]

"... Actually I'm fairly sure that worrying the people who care about you is exactly the problem," He said, frowning to himself, before finally forcing a smile.

"Never mind. I'm exhausted by my own dramatics. What say we rejoin the party? I am sure I will need to get to know you better somehow, doing so while drinking ourselves into a stupor sounds like the best way to go about that."

[dreadinquisitor]

He brow wrinkled, lips pressing together, but before he could say anything, Dorian had moved on and he decided to let it slip. He had said he would leave it be and... he wasn't the man's Inquisitor, was he?

Wasn't his friend, from the mage's point-of-view.

He would need to learn to accept that, sooner or later.

Do his caring from a distance.

He snorted lowly, not quite a laugh, not quite a sigh, and nodded.

"I thought you'd never ask."

[tevintage]

"Good," Dorian said, pulling back from the railing and stepping back towards the doors, the party glowing inside.

"What's your poison, Inquisitor? Or do you feel like being adventurous."

[dreadinquisitor]

He pushed open of the double doors and held it with his arm for Dorian to pass through. Meeting the mage's eye as he glanced back, amusement and more than a little challenge in his gaze.

"If you think there's anything in there meets those terms."

[tevintage]

"I'm actually quite certain that everything here is poison in one form or another," Dorian said dryly, thankful more than Maxwell could know for being allowed to turn this conversation to humour rather than his cowardice.

"I was witness to 'Peach Schnapps' the other night, which sounds appropriately awful."

[dreadinquisitor]

He blinked in surprise, head quirking at Dorian. Then he laughed, a warm, full sound.

His first real laugh in days.

"I believe her name was Beth," he replied as he followed Dorian through, leaning slightly closer to be heard over the pounding noise they called music. "And I thought it was quite fitting. She was very sweet."

[tevintage]

"Ah, then you met her as well? Yes, she seems a dear girl. I didn't quite have the heart then to try it, but my mood tonight is significantly more masochistic."

He waved to an avox, and quickly ordered two shots of peach schnapps. Might as well get this night off right.

[dreadinquisitor]

"I did," he admitted. "And... I did, but in my defense, the menu was quite extensive and I was very tired."

After the day he'd had, he defied anyone to not want to drink themselves into a temporary solution. Especially considering it was the only option available.

The drinks arrived and he stared at the tiny glass for a moment, eyeing it like the aforementioned poison, before turning to Dorian.

"Shall we toast to your escort, and perhaps timely fires?"