III. SEMI-CLOSED.

[liberalum]

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!

Comments

[liberalum]

"I appreciate your outsider's perspective."

A hint wry, in the way he is always a hint wry, but there's no real reason to think that Dorian is really making fun. Part of him wonders if he's chattering his hopes and dreams at agents of Corypheus themselves, and another part of him wonders what would happen if that were true, and how interesting. But most of all, he knows a fish out of water when he sees one.

Dorian sits back a little in a slouch that somehow doesn't seem lazy or unguarded, watching Marcel rise and wander. Something a little steely glints in his grey eyes, and his mild smile doesn't wan.

"In what sense? What is it, or is it you hear it disparaged so frequently?"

[slaveking]

Has he? Marcel thinks back, does recall the phrase being dropped here or there in spooky tones of voice-- disparaging too, now that he considers it. His brow furrows slightly, thoughtful. Not too squirrely. There is definitely no reason to believe that this handsome stranger from the Rifts would know anything of blood magic or possess abilities that might be categorized as such.

"If you could start with the basics," he says. "I don't know what it is. Besides that I'm gonna assume, it's more-- risky than the usual kinds. Our culture does have stories about that kind of thing." Turning into an immortal, nocturnal creature with a series of abilities that violate the bodies and minds of ordinary human beings. Maybe a little bit of vodou, Santeria, the old classics. Blood almost always meant sacrifice, back home; he's careful not to make assumptions about the connections here.

But something about the way Dorian looks at him now elicits curiosity. He crushes the leaf in his hand, wiggles dust off his fingers. Pruning.

[liberalum]

"Even the basics might take some adjustment to navigate between cultures, but I'll attempt not to lead you too far afield."

That Marcel is asking at all isn't too concerning; blood magic is hot in the mouths of those that distrust mages, including mages themselves who don't trust their own kind. Whatever kind of taboo it is, it isn't one that must go unmentioned. Then again, Dorian doesn't give the impression that he has many boundaries in what he should or should not mention.

He's inspecting his nails as he begins. "You should know what isn't blood magic, first and foremost. The basics of that is magic in its own right, which is a product from the Fade. A certain energy that alters reality, and mages are those born with the ability to shape it. A mage draws magic from the Fade, you see. Ideally. A blood mage draws magical energy from the inherently magical properties of blood -- his own, or that of others. Sacrifice. It was the use of blood magic and mass murder by the ancient magisters that led to the corruption of the Golden City, along with their sundry, more usual sins.

"Because of that little piece of religious mythos, common opinion is that blood magic is an inherently evil form of magic, and only madmen or magisters would dare trifle with it. Well, that, and that a blood mage will more often than not require the blood of others instead of his own to gain power. It also opens a host of other magical spells of sinister nature -- mind control, for instance."

Dorian's expression never changes, or shadows, or looks aside. He's long since between able to shelve his own experiences and carry on removed of them.

"Templars will slay blood mages on sight, and even in Tevinter, no one would openly admit to using it, but you can rest assured they'll use it behind closed doors. In my opinion, it's a poor excuse of a mage that resorts to blood magic, but it isn't in itself an evil thing unless used for evil, yes? But it does gradually deaden a mage to their innate connection to the Fade -- a steep cost for a little power."

[slaveking]

Marcel sets his back against the tree, the coarse surface of bark reassuringly solid behind his back. He looks at the mage's face. He looks at the mage's fancy fingernails. He manages not to fidget with his own fingers during this description of blood magic, its various permutations and associated moral attitudes. None of it is all that surprising, of course!

It's nice that some themes remain constant between universes. He should probably actually be wondering how his blood-drinking undead nature will be received when the revelation comes out, but it doesn't occur to him to be, you know. Self-conscious. More cautious than he's already being. Anyway, Dorian has a bad knee and a medieval manicure, he's hardly going to be the one to instill in Marcel real paranoia about his own wellbeing. "People used to cut up chickens where I come from," he says. "Guess some of the witches would drip a little blood on something here or there. That's a different branch from anything I practice."

'Practice.'

"Seems like your politics are harder on the subject. I guess the nature of the donor has something to do with that. And the legacy of mass slave murder doesn't help, fictional or not." Mind-control. Heh heh. Heh. Marcel's hands and eyes are steady because he's a carnivorous monster of the night. "Can you actually do it with animal parts? If push came down to shove, and you needed the edge," he clarifies. "Would it matter, if you only did it once?"

[liberalum]

"Would it indeed? In my view, not really, if used to augment other magics, and as long as you bleed yourself and the circumstances necessitate it-- what's a little self-respect, in the long run? And animals lack the sufficient spiritual energy, I believe -- otherwise that might have solved some problems. Reputation, and rat infestations."

Dorian smiles again, shiny, like a knife in the sun. "But why the curiousity? Or are you grasping desperately about after the things that sound important? I wouldn't blame you."

[slaveking]

Marcel weighs his options internally, studying the moustache across from him. He wonders why Dorians clothes are so asymmetrical, and suspects he should have mugged somebody with slightly racier taste; he has nice biceps too that would benefit from all that. He should probably be a touch more concerned about the mage's inquiries, but he's too accustomed to prevailing as society's apex predator to really act like anything else.

"Wanted to know if the rules are the same."

He smiles easily, not too wide. And moves past the subject quickly, not evasively, but just like it wasn't all that important a diversion. Somewhat more pressing: "So does that mean you're worried about turning into darkspawn, yourself? I hear this means that you're on the front lines, even if you budget your soul for magic a little wiser than those people."

[liberalum]

Dorian laughs in usual understated, breathy way, innately condescending, but let's be real -- that's just how his face is.

"I'm in no danger of entering the Fade," he points out. "Not physically, anyway, even if I'm pulled there in my dreaming. What I'm in danger of," and he says that like there are quotation marks around it, one apex predator talking to another, "is becoming an Abomination. A mage who's been possessed by a demon in their dreams, and wakes up a monster. A different thing from a darkspawn, but lacks the taint of the Blight. It's the danger all mages pose, theoretically."

He waves his hand, and then gets to his feet, only slightly tentative on his foot before settling his weight. "But I'm highly skilled, making it an unlikelihood. I was educated, not beaten over the head with fear."