liberalum: (#9685630)
( ᴊᴀᴢᴢʜᴀɴᴅs ᴍᴜsᴛᴀᴄʜɪᴏ ) ([personal profile] liberalum) wrote in [community profile] faderift2015-12-19 10:56 pm

III. SEMI-CLOSED.

WHO: Dorian Pavus and the continued adventures of less dashing people.
WHAT: After briefly reuniting with his father, Dorian returns to Skyhold to navigate the current local turmoil and not have feelings where anyone can see.
WHEN: The latter half of Haring.
WHERE: Skyhold.
NOTES: This is a catch-all for pre-planned threads, rather than open prompts. PM or plurk me if you'd like to do something!
fleurdesel: right, confused (so...what)

[personal profile] fleurdesel 2015-12-27 09:09 am (UTC)(link)
"...last time." There is a story there- the fact that he was prepared to fight it? She-



No. Wine. More wine. For both of them. She tops off their glasses and takes a deep swig of hers, somber and silent in her protective outrage. When Dorian became someone she would feel this for- she's not quite sure. Somewhere between the garden and Felix and sniping in the library, most likely.
fleurdesel: right, sad, tired, serious (Sometimes it doesn't work.)

[personal profile] fleurdesel 2015-12-27 09:52 am (UTC)(link)
"Why do I get the feeling he made some manner of commentary on the work you are doing with the Inquisition?" Because Dorian's father is, apparently, an ass. And it is the sort of bullshit she expects from such men and their temperaments; their disapproval as much a blessing as a wound. This is an ache she and Compassion cannot mend with magic- to be certain some mages can ease the hearts of those around them.

Adelaide is not in their number. But she does have wine, quite a bit of it, and a free afternoon.

"You have my word." And if there are a few things she's kept of her noble upbringing- it is that LeBlancs keep their word. "None shall hear it from me."
fleurdesel: left, smile, smirk, confused, sarcastic (The punchline is...?)

[personal profile] fleurdesel 2015-12-27 10:21 am (UTC)(link)
"...To be fair, we have our moments." The fighting, the mischief, the songs in the tavern. She does not envy those that must mind the entirety of the Inquisition one bit. "And you do have the dramatic flair for it."

Watching him cast is one part show and two parts exasperation- she personally prefers quick, efficient gestures- not all this twisting and flourishing. But that, all of that is beside the point. "Somewhere a good deal warmer as well, I should think, if all you wished was to be away. There is all of Thedas to vanish to if you wished to be away."
fleurdesel: right, sad, tired, serious (Sometimes it doesn't work.)

[personal profile] fleurdesel 2016-01-01 11:10 am (UTC)(link)
His glass that needs refilling, Adelaide does so without comment- they would be down here for some time and if nothing else? This is something worth drinking over. Family and the many ways in which they could disappoint you; there is no greater cause to drink than perhaps heartbreak. There may be shades of it in this for Dorian but it is not hers to pry.

He tries. He tries harder for all that he is flippant; whether or not most notice that or not she can't say. But Adelaide does. It is the one reason she was comfortable enough to sit with him, speak with him. To take his word and his regard seriously in matters with the Council. "People are selfish with their empathy, this age. They save it for those they approve of rather than those that might be strange to them but equally deserving."

Like a Tevinter Altus, estranged from his homeland and his family, fighting to see a better world.

"Is that not common?" She wouldn't know- mages are taken from their families here. Other than letters she has not seen her family, heard of them, or disappointed them since she was a child. "Assuming they know you, and that they know best."
fleurdesel: right, sad, serious, flirty (puppy eyes part two)

[personal profile] fleurdesel 2016-01-14 08:55 pm (UTC)(link)
"You've heard my unfortunate and troubled past. It is only fair." Though hers had been less lasting in stabs that build up over time to twist a man into knots with his own family and more singularly traumatic event- the two weren't equivalent. Different shades of pain that can't be soothed with magic. Seeing his father, then, must have been like wrenching the stitches from a slow mending wound.

"...He's well enough for you to visit and drink with him, if you prefer. Though not to the usual excess." With the relatively recent collapse yet lingering she cannot recommend much by the way of wine.