i have other things to fill my time ( closed )

[eruit]

WHO: Hanzo Shimada and Adalia
WHAT: Assigned roommates finally meet
WHEN: After the Tevinter party
WHERE: Their room!
NOTES: Dragons. Multiple.

The party had been trying for Hanzo, especially given how deep in the society of Tevinter they had been dragged. The parties were like all the kinds that he had been expected to attend when had been a part of the family, when he had introduced himself as Hanzo Shimada as though it meant something. It had been almost intolerable, a heavy weight on him as he blended into the background, used the darkness of his outfit and his training...

As soon as it seems suitable for him to leave he does. He's done his duty and spoken to a few people - he has been social, he has been polite, he has done everything that was proper for him to do from the standpoint of the Inquisition. Even now he knows that there's not much more he could do without putting himself out on the line and making himself feel even more uncomfortable.

Self-exile had been easy when he hadn't been looking at everything he had given up, when he hadn't been faced with the world he had left behind.

Hanzo misses Tevinter. He misses his home. He doesn't miss his family, doesn't miss the rules, the pain, the knowledge of what he was doing to the spirits that, even now, he can feel close to him, but this? The splendour, the warmth, the...

He steps into his room and stops dead, hand ready to undo the belt around his waist, staring at the dragon in his room.

"... What?"

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[eruit]

Hanzo's hands drop away from his belt sharply, but he doesn't quite reach for his weapons - Adalia speaks before he has a mind to and he pauses, still staring at the dragon, as though taking his eyes from it would be enough to inspire some kind of attack. It's one thing to know the symbol of your house, to see the tattoo that covers his arm, bare even now, but to see one alive in front of you... That is something entirely different.

"No. I do not mind." Which isn't necessarily a lie. Slowly, almost carefully, Hanzo moves down to sit properly on his knees, still staring at Charis with an undisguised intensity. Eventually, he manages to reach out and offer a hand - the one connected to the tattooed arm - to scratch under the dragon's jaw.

[thunderproof]

Charis coos at the scratching, leaning into Hanzo's hand while at the same time stretching his neck forward to more closely inspect him, sniffing and snuffling at his face and his clothes and his shoulder, his shoulder is most interesting of all. That curiosity makes Charis sit up on his hind legs and reach an imposing, clawed paw toward Hanzo, but —

"Charis," Adalia says, gentle but firm, and the dragon stops and turns to her, chirping. "You can't just touch, danthe vrak."

Charis growls, disappointed, but reaches out again, this time stopping with his paw near but not touching Hanzo's shoulder. He looks between his paw and Hanzo, waiting for permission.

[eruit]

It's strange, to see a dragon in front of him, real and solid. Hanzo's not entirely sure what he's supposed to do in this situation. Scratching seems to be the best option and the dragon seems to enjoy it, and for a moment he's enchanted by the fact that he's here with this magical creature, letting it lean forward into the scratch of his fingers. For a moment, all the horrors of Tevinter have faded away, just for now.

He blinks as the dragon reaches for him, coming out of his thoughts sharply, his head tilting. He turns his head to the side and hesitates for a moment; the tattoos, the signs of what he has wrapped in Storm Bow, and he hesitates for a moment.

Swallowing, Hanzo turns his head to look at Adalia, curious about her control over the beast, before he nods.

"He may touch."

[thunderproof]

Without even waiting for Adalia to approve, Charis coos happily and leans the rest of the way forward, delicately grabbing Hanzo's shoulder to inspect his tattoo more closely. He chitters as he looks, sounds that could almost be speech if one just focuses a little harder —

"He wants to know what it's of," Adalia explains, setting aside her book and slipping off the bed to come closer. "I'm pretty sure he does, anyway, those are his curious noises. His name is Charis, he's not from here."

Which was probably at least somewhat obvious, considering how a native Thedosian dragon would never behave in such a docile manner, but just in case.

[eruit]

It's very strange, Hanzo thinks, to feel little claws raking over his arms, touching his shoulder and inspecting the vibrant ink of his tattoo. Admittedly, it is something he is very proud of - he has never been ashamed of the artistry, even if the meaning behind it is somewhat distorted now, and he is glad to show it off. Archery is only one of the reasons his shirt half folded.

"Dragons," Hanzo says quietly. "Dragon spirits." Admitting more than that feels a little too dangerous, considering the warmth of Storm Bow so close to him, but this is enough. It might be that both Charis and the woman consider him just someone who ventures to celebrate spirits rather than anything else.

"... I am Hanzo." Hesitating, he leans back, still letting the dragon touch and explore as it pleases.