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[Behold. This is not your everyday pleasant, charming, and well-spoken Dorian, noooo -- say hello to your not-so-friendly neighborhood irascible Dorian. He’s not above sarcasm and friendly banter, but short tempered is rare for someone so practical and cordial…and yet.]

So we’re the bad guys, the root of all suffering and evil blah, blah, blah…now where have I heard this tune before? Oh right, partiality as old as the Maker himself…and yet they’re not above lying, manipulating, torture, brutality, and theft [theft gets its own special emphasis for very specific reasons] they don’t kill, they don’t imprison, such unique little snowflakes they are. I’m certainly not seeing any of their own in here for transgressions committed, because they’ve been flawless hosts I suspect. Venhedis kaffan vas.

[He’s so irritated that it’s difficult to tease his sarcasm apart from his true irritation.]

Of course, I could be wrong, the little pack of Savrii that assaulted me unprovoked could have been a fever dream, it’s possible. Not bloody likely. But possible.

[So what’s brought on so much agitation? Well, for anyone who knows the mage, they know he’s something of a drunkard and a drunkard without wine is being forced to dry out. Right now, he’s only agitated…small mercies.]

As an aside has anyone taken stock of all of our resources, they’re still feeding us and supplying us with some things, yes? I need more than that to keep myself occupied -- books, cards, music, writing materials…any-bloody-thing really.

[His voice isn't shaking at all.]

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[Something in his expression flickers. That is the question, isn't it? He knows what he remembers. What the intermediaries told him was the truth. But everyone else...

Everyone else tells him that the intermediaries dig into your mind, make you remember things wrong. That they bend your thoughts to what they say to be correct. He wants to believe that, that he isn't really the kind of person the intermediaries tell him he is, that he never would really have been so selfish as to cause that kind of destruction for attention.

Another part of him quietly insists that he hasn't done much since to dispel the idea, has he?

In the end there's only one thing he can say that he's sure is the truth.]

I'm... not really sure anymore.

You're not...sure? [That doesn't explain much...in fact that doesn't explain anything at all.

Granted it does look like the Inquisitor is having a difficult time grappling with it himself.] I'm not certain of what that means...that you don't remember?

I don't... know which is right. [He's mumbling now, almost talking to himself. Then he shakes his head.]

I can't talk like this. [Not on the TAB. But he can't just end the conversation here, either.] Where are you?

Other than to clean myself up I haven't really budged from my quarters, I can't really be specific with directions since I'm not familiar with our surroundings yet. Door is open though.

[Lavellan doesn't reply, but he does go looking.

It takes a while, all the corridors look the same here and Dorian hadn't given him any identifying information--and more doors were open than you might expect. Eventually, though, he finds Dorian, almost after he'd decided to forget the whole thing and just go wandering. His sudden backtracking after a double take might actually be comical in other circumstances.

He almost smiles at Dorian's growing stubble and general unkemptness (relatively speaking). They probably both look like wrecks, but Dorian was always the type to care more.]

There you are.

[This isn't awkward.]

How have you been holding up?

[Dorian would hardly call himself unkempt, he's not as bad as Blackwall, but he's getting very close and it is appalling to him, fortunately he's not alone. The Inquisitor looks like he's been dragged through the void as well, but what exactly was eating the man was another question entirely, Dorian knew the source of his own dilemma...it was odd to see Lavellan.]

Not vomiting yet, if that tells you anything.

[But he hasn't been without alcohol long enough so he isn't sure what to expect.]

Please come in, sit on the bed if you like, no real room to sit down in here really.

[Lavellan walks in haltingly, suddenly doubting the very impulse that took him here. What is he hoping to gain from this? This Dorian is a stranger, and the effort it would take to catch him up from when they last spoke will surely wring Lavellan dry. They'd been existing just fine as they were, so why is he changing things now?

(A voice at the back of his mind says: you know why. Because you've burned every other bridge except this one.)

So he steps in. But he doesn't sit.]

I don't even know where to start.

I've no intention of rushing you into it, so take your time with it...or if you decide to say nothing that's fine as well...but I'm still very curious.

[There was contention everywhere, most recently implied to be between the Inquisitor and Varric. Dorian won't force the issue, but he's not going to pretend there isn't one either when obviously there is.

He's also concerned by the distance Lavellan is obviously trying to put between them, granted they didn't really know one another, but he thought they at least liked one another. Perhaps not?]

[He inhales, exhales, stares at his hands. When he says he doesn't know where to start, he's telling the truth. It goes back so far, every time he tries to begin he thinks of something else he needs to say first.

Finally he sighs and just leans against the wall, almost limp.]

Do you remember that incident--I think it was four months or so ago, now. Where someone... altered the Ingress to divert to a slaver colony?

[It seems like another lifetime, now.]

That was you? [Of course the answer is: yes he does remember, but he is mildly surprised that the Inquisitor was behind it, which is the assumption he is taking away from the man's statement.

Of course it's part of the reason they are here now, but this was his Inquisitor, Dorian was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.]

I...am sure you had your reasons, though you did mention something about your memories, I'd like to hear more if you don't mind?

[Lavellan lifts his hand in the universal gesture of wait.] No, that wasn't me. It's just... where this mess all started.

[It takes a while to gather his thoughts, again. Hard to piece together the chronology for himself anymore.]

Someone innocent took the blame for it in place of the real perpetrator. [He's not naming names on purpose. A strange concession in exchange for all this detail, that he's never really discussed with anyone else before. But there's something comforting in talking to Dorian again. Reassuring. Familiar.]

She was arrested by the Savrii and vanished for weeks, with no way to contact her. I attacked the Ingress because, I suppose, I thought it would give me an opportunity to stage a rescue in a blaze of glory and save the day singlehandedly.

[His voice goes flat, toneless, like he's reciting something rather than making a genuine confession.] I nearly caused everyone here to freeze to death for the sake of my own ego. Now you know. Those were my reasons.

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this went from 0 to real in 60secs i apologize

they need a serious conversation

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sorry for delay!

same here. trying to beat botw before I get to deep into the semester

np!

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neurology is the worst so sorry for my super lateness

no worries!