nehraachargers | IC Inbox

And that was Dorian trying to put his clothes on, fortunately, he didn't have to take them off and he would not have been coordinated enough to even attempt it. He was dressed and laced up now, though he was far from immaculate or even as clean as he liked to be, but he'd have to do the walk of shame at some point and it wasn't even the good walk of shame. Bull smoothing his hair back was...unexpected and it was an improvement, but it was still a wavy, deflated mess.

Grabbing his boots and armor he plodded along carefully, he still wasn't at full capacity and it was early for Dorian so...along with a dull throbbing that was threatening to become a fully realized headache he was grateful for the coffee. He took a moment to observe the exchange between Bull and the Inquisitor with a raised eyebrow, more curious than anything before doing his best to properly greet the elf. Unfortunately, gentlemanly courtesies were out the window, considering the situation and his hands and arms preoccupied.

"Inquisitor Lavellan, yes?" meaning he was the same Dorian from before and remembered that they had spoken a few times, so not a total stranger to him. He inclined his head politely before finding a seat and depositing his armor and boots, "A distinct pleasure...as always."

The arm that Cyril was wearing wasn't the shiny chrome thing he was going to eventually had, instead it was a frame of one, meant to give his nerves time to adjust to the new input. He still kept forgetting to use it though, doing everything one-handed. When Bull entered and complimented him on it, though, he smiled and closed the fingers.

"Thank you, it will be much more impressive once it's done."

Then he directed all of his focus on Dorian and offered him a smile. "Yes, that's right! Welcome back?" he added a bit of a question there because he wasn't sure how Dorian felt about finding himself back in this world.

Dorian definitely looked like he'd had one hell of a night. It could be messily fixed sex hair. Or it could...just be bed head. Bull was busy smiling as he crossed his arms to enjoy the struggle the mage was having.

Hey, he brought it on himself. It was his own fault now that he was a show.

"So you're a different Dorian but you two have met before." Got it. He'd file that one away for later.

Dorian would argue that the champagne brought all of this about, one glass of champagne should not have had this much of an impact. Something he did not miss about this place was certainly its gift for sneaky food and alcoholic beverages, one of the few things that brought him satisfaction in life and this world had to ruin it.

Dorian returned the Inquisitor's smile with a lopsided one of his own, he didn't hate everything about this place, it was constantly surprising him with knowledge...and there were people, "thank you...it hasn't changed all that much from what I can recall...but that was two years ago."

For him anyway.

"My Inquisitor is Maxwell Trevelyan...so there's that," Dorian wasn't aware of any other glaring changes in their worlds other than the man or woman who would become Inquisitor, "...but we're not unacquainted. I take it you are both from the same Thedas?"

Cyril wanted to be distracted by talking about how he and Bull know each other, but he's distracted by Dorian saying he's been gone for two years.

"Two years? Then... how is Travelyan?" he asked with some worry on his face. He didn't know this man, but he knew the things he would have to face back home. It was troubling to think of anyone going through the things he had. "And how are you? I know there are some...trying times close by."

"Yeah. He's my Inquisitor."

Bull cleared that up right away before essentially stepping back to let Cyril as his questions. Honestly they weren't that important to him, he didn't know this other Inquisitor. Hadn't pledged loyalty to him. Still, it mattered to Cyril and that was enough for him to make sure he paid attention to what Dorian said in response.

Sipping his coffee, he leaned back in his chair and looked over at the mage.

"How is Trevelyan?" Dorian parroted, it was a question that was quite general and left a lot to unpack, to be honest, "physically he's not in too dissimilar a state as you, the anchor was threatening to kill him and Solas...ah...relieved him of that burden. He seems to be taking it well enough, but that's his way...deep-dyed, always with the humor and the brave front that he wears like full body armor, impervious. You can tell he's guarded, he has to be, but there's something there when he thinks no one is watching him anyway...but that's to be expected...I honestly don't know anything about the private carnage."

Dorian picks up his own coffee turning the mug in his hands, it's hot against his palms, he doesn't mind it though, it's comforting.

"Me?" Dorian now finally addressing the second part of Cyril's question, this is where he takes a sip of his own coffee, a bit of a distraction before looking up at the Inquisitor and offering him a lopsided grin, "no flies on me, Inquisitor, as usual. You knew though, it was the thing you were reluctant to talk about when last we spoke I suspect, the assassination of Lord Halward Pavus?"

Dorian took another sip of coffee, letting the conversation stew from there for a few moments if either of them had anything to contribute. It was done, really.

All of that sounds so painfully familiar. As Dorian spoke about his Inquisitor, Cyril felt himself frowning as he reached up to touch the spot where the new fake arm met with his skin.

"It was," he admitted after a moment of quiet. He wasn't sure how this Dorain felt about his father. He knew that when he had met Lord Pavus Dorian had stayed with him a bit. It had left him conflicted but at least gave him some closure. He didn't know what the human Inquisitor had done in his stead.

Still, it wasn't exactly talking for when you're hungover, so he didn't ask about it.

"And you do not have to call me Inquisitor. I've retired. Officially, anyway."

Bull pretended like he wasn't listening and just sipping his coffee. They both knew better. That was fine though, he wasn't expecting them to call him on it. Nor was he really planning on offering much commentary to this part. Just absorbing information and then taking the cue from Cyril.

Change the subject.

"I've come up with a lot of new names for him. None you probably would want to call him but he likes them when I say them."

Lighten the mood with some good old sex humor.

While Dorian did enjoy talking about himself, the less they had to discuss this aspect of his life, the better. There was no levity to no one's surprise he was too hungover to talk on things as serious as his deceased father and his new appointments, things they both probably knew something about anyway. It seems that while the Inquisitor of their worlds might be different the circumstances were not.

While in the middle of taking his sip of the hot beverage he'd been given Cyril suggested that he didn't have to call him the Inquisitor and then Bull injected and Dorian inhaled the beverage before he could even stop himself. More of a reflex than anything, it was hot, it went down the wrong way. He set the mug down immediately coughing and making a hand gesture that would say, no, you don't have to before he could choke the words out...which he finally managed to do, "no...no you uh...should have your secrets, yeah? Perfectly fine being in the dark with some things."

Including pet names.

When Dorian starts coughing, Cyril moves closer with some concern on his face. He knows it's just responding to Bull, but he still knows that feeling on inhaling something liquid is no fun.

"All right there?"

Bull looked over at Dorian as he just about snorted out coffee. The Qunari looked amused as hell as he watched him before grabbing a napkin and handing it over to him. He wasn't actually that bad of a guy. He just liked poking at Dorian to see those feathers ruffled.

Okay, so he did that a lot but that wasn't the point.

"We don't tend to keep that part secret. Pretty sure the neighbors could quote them off at this point."

"Fine...Fine..." Dorian said weakly at first but managed to come back with that all-important composure, his voice a little bit graveled like he's inhaled sand, but he took the napkin anyway with a strained thank you before attempting to get himself in order.

"Yes, I'm certain you keep your neighbors awake at night. I'm perfectly fine being left in the dark on that score," he didn't want to know, he really didn't want to know. And for a moment or two, he fidgeted with his coffee, the awkwardness of the situation not lost on him...though maybe it was needless. No one else seemed to be coming off as awkward, why should he? Perhaps it had to do with his dignity being entirely offset with this particular situation.

"Meat and potatoes, yes?" Dorian said coming out of his silence, "If you're wondering what happened anyway, I had one glass of incredibly potent champagne, I'm certain I did and said things that are...regrettable. Bull brought me here, put me to bed, I fetched up in your toilet and here we are. Glorious morning isn't it?"

By the tone of Dorian's voice, it didn't sound glorious, it sounded like he was on the verge of nursing a blinding headache.

"Dorian, any morning that allows me to see your handsome face is, in fact, very glorious," Cyril replies with a smile. "You haven't lost any dignity in my eyes. This place has a way of sneaking in drinks and snacks with strange effects. You've nothing to worry about here."

This might not be his Dorain but he still was a Dorian, and that meant that Cyril felt an odd sense of affection towards him. "Take all of the time you need to feel ready to face the public again."

"I saw his ass though. More than made up for it."

Bull couldn't resist throwing that out there. Sure they hadn't done a damn thing but he wasn't about to just ignore the fact that he'd seen a great bit of ass when Dorian had gone running to the bathroom. The mage might have been hurling everything in his body since the age of twelve but that ass was still a great view.

"They've got pills for the headache by the way."

Just in case Dorian wanted something like that.

"If anyone ever accuses you of having no taste Inqui-...Cyril, then they're about as useful to you as a fart in a shack," Dorian said grinning because of course, he's handsome, Dorian knows a compliment when he hears it, though he's much less prepared to deal with the fact that he hasn't lost his dignity. Surface compliments are one thing, compliments on his quality of manner and self have always been a more complicated issue. In Tevinter it's about as relevant and important as the length of your big toe.

Fortunately Bull has a way of derailing the more complex matters of his personality to his physical attributes.

"Ah, well my ass is the gift that keeps on giving," and he took another sip of his coffee, because what else needed to be said about that? Physically Dorian has his gifts, the only thing his parents had really given him that was worth much of anything at all.

"Oh, even hangover headaches? Just pop in a few pills and be about your day, marvelous!"

Naturally, anything that could alleviate his pains was worth exploring.

"The type of medicine they have here doesn't stop there," Cyril replied, though even just his arm is proof of that. Honestly, even a fraction of the things they had in this city would improve the lives of so many back home.

"I think we have some of those pills. In the bathroom maybe?" After all, painkillers came in handy for aftercare. "I'll go look.

If you want to show Bull that gift again now would be the time." He teased as he got up to go check.

"Yeah. Behind the mirror."

Handy thing really. A nice secret place for pills and stuff behind the mirror. Honestly Bull was loving a lot of the stuff he was running into in this place but that was another thing entirely.

Finishing up his coffee, he rolled his head over to look at Dorian.

"I mean, he's right. If you wanted to show that gift off again then I'm not complaining."

At the suggestion that he show off his assets again, Dorian does his patented half-laugh half-sigh into his coffee mug before taking a bracing sip and then offering Bull a weak grin. He's not as robust as he normally is while in the throes of a hangover.

"I'd love to, but the effort at this point is strenuous," and he's still not properly dressed the way he'd normally be. He can't see himself making the effort to peel himself back out of his clothing only to put them on again, "Press me again when I'm not quite so indisposed and can manage it without potentially falling on my face...that would be a tragedy."

Cyril is careful not to be gone for too long as he goes to get the pills for Dorian. He comes back with the bottle and hands it to Bull for him to open. He has a temporary new hand, but he doesn't want to accidentally spill the pills everywhere trying to open it when he's not used to it yet.

"I hope this helps."

Grabbing the bottle, he had it open right away and held out a couple of the pills after for Dorian to pop with his coffee. Once he had them, he capped the bottle again and set it on the table.

"Hey, remind me to press Dorian again in the future about seeing his ass. Apparently he's letting me have the chance then."

They all knew he didn't need the reminder in the slightest. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to tell Cyril about the conversation.

"If it doesn't help, there's no giving it back...they do say suffering is one of life's great teacher's though," clearly Dorian is not one for learning such lessons, he'll be back on his bullshit soon enough, though hopefully, the alcohol will not be as unexpectedly potent...or spiked. This world makes no such promises.

He does, however, take the pills graciously, pops them and downs the rest of his coffee.

"I could give it to you in writing, make it official if you'd like, a written contract for the pleasure of seeing my ass," he said this flippantly, doubting it would come to that, "though odds are I'll probably be drunk again so who knows."

It seems they had a really interesting conversation while he was gone. His brow raises a bit as Bull explains and Dorian confirms.

"Well if you need a witness to ensure the contract is properly fulfilled I'll be happy to be there," Cyril replies with a soft chuckle. "And in this place, it's easy to get drunk. They have all kinds of festivals here where they give out different drinks for us to try. It happens so often I'm starting to think they're all lushes."

"Usually I'm not big on written contracts because they're too easy to lose. But I think I'll make an exception for this one." He chuckled and then looked over at Cyril. "Instead of witnessing, you wanna let me see yours at the same time? I may only have one eye but it's surprisingly good at multiwatching."

Bull grinned at his little play on words there. He was enjoying himself and how light the mood was now that Dorian wasn't worshiping the toilet.

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