thisavrou | voice;

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[There's very little preamble before the network gets an earful of the distinctive, raspy tones of a certain ex-cop. Guy sounds like he smokes his cigarettes and eats them too. He also doesn't sound exactly comfortable to be speaking on the network, but anyone who's met him in person in the past few days knows that that forced impassivity is kind of his thing.]

I'm looking for someone who can work with cybernetics. Some know-how with computers or engineering would probably help, but I figure some of that comes with the territory. [A pause, and then:] Discretion preferred.

[The way he says it, one kind of gets the sense that he'd gladly find a way to make even the most indiscreet person suddenly learn the meaning of patient confidentiality– but it's just as easy to believe that that's just the way he talks.

There's another longer pause and then, at length, he adds:] I'd also be interested in speaking to anyone who can talk about the crewman we've got in the hold.

[Spooky, scary, skeleton-like – you've probably heard of Ploiatos. Adam certainly has, and (being the security-minded guy he is) he'd love to know what having a literal skeleton in the closet entails.

And since Adam Jensen's never exactly been known for ending conversations gracefully, that's where he chooses to cut the message off.

Certainly, no one can say he isn't to-the-point.]

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All of that skin, all of the drinks, the luminescent fish! That's where all of the wine came from.

[If Dorian tilts his head and squints hard enough he can definitely see Adam on the beach with a drink in his hand, better than the stuff Adam had on his arrival.]

I'm starting to miss it now. It would be nice if there was something in the near future that wasn't deadly or stressful. At this rate we'll all be half mad before we reach our destination.

Law of averages, and all that.

[But he doesn't sound super-convinced. Him – he can wait for the cosmos to balance out the past couple of years of his life if he wants, but he can't shake this suspicion that he'd be waiting for a good long while.

Speaking of the wine, though:] Still got to find a way to pay you back for that, by the way. I'm not really holding out for there being a booze planet I can pick something up from.

[Dorian cannot blame Adam for not being optimistic about their chances of another luxurious vacation planet. More than the mage, whose life has been overwhelmed with comfort and riches, Adam had the look of a man who could really use it. Maybe they will find a break in all of this shit, but Dorian was a realist, he was also sympathetic enough not to get Adam's hopes up. Some letdowns could be devastating.]

If you have a remedy for frozen feet then that would be repayment enough for me.

[He's doubtful, but what could it hurt? ]

["Setting your curtains on fire again" is kind of sounding like the simplest remedy for that, but he takes a moment to consider it anyway.]

About half of my pair of thermals is pretty useless to me. [Robot limbs, and all.] Might be able to make some seriously heavy-duty socks out of them.

They might not look completely ridiculous either. ["Completely" being the operative word here.]

[Wouldn't be the best idea, but Dorian is coming maddeningly close to building a nice little camp fire in his room.]

Your arms and legs don't feel the cold? [Well, while the subject is on the table, Dorian is curious and that is a distraction.]

Only as much as they need to. Any less than that could be dangerous. [Gotta know ASAP if your hand's melting off, or something.

Wryly:] The ship's a little uncomfortable– but the temperature probably isn't what'll hurt me.

[Though Dorian and his cocoon could've fooled him. Anyway, that's true – until that fire actually happens and/or spreads, at least.]

So feeling sensations, that isn't a problem then? Only not feeling as much as you need to, I'm not sure I understand, but that's a good thing, isn't it? [Dorian is a sensationalist after all, the only thing he knows about prosthetics is that they have no sensation, no ability to feel.]

I can't think of anything other than the temperature being unbearable. I suppose I'll take you up on those thermals. [He likes his cocoon, thanks, and his robes, his robes are lovely too, but if that fire spread someone is going to have to pull him out of it.]

No, it's– [A pause. How to articulate this? It's not like he's ever tried.] ...Pressure's there. I can tell the difference between shaking a hand and breaking it.

[Not that it's stopped him from worrying about it. A thoughtful intake of breath, and an exhale.]

Everything else feels a little like I'm touching it through a thin layer of gauze. Sensation's close, but... Not the same. [Typical Adam Jensen eloquence. The faint frustration in his voice is indication that it's not for lack of trying, though.]

They say your brain can adjust, and eventually it'll trick you into thinking it feels just like the real thing. [A dismissive sound; the verbal equivalent of a shrug.] Still waiting on that. But then again, it's only been half a year.

I...[Dorian has to think for a moment, as curious as he is about so many things, specifically things related to technology, he's also aware that some of his questions are...personal?] My apologies, I'm picking up Cole's bad habits.

[He should probably clarify that.] Ah, Cole is a spirit, he has this ability that enables him to dip into a person's mind and lock on to their pain and other personal matters. I suppose he wants to...help or understand. I gave him permission to dip into my mind, because he was as curious about me as I was about him. A bit like inviting someone into your home only to have them run off with the silverware.

[Obviously Dorian's toeing the line here.] It sounds frustrating, these cybernetics? [Dorian can imagine that experiencing the sense of touch through what felt like a thin layer of anything had to be maddening. Even if the mind acclimates.] If you don't want to discuss it, I'd understand that.

[From the sounds of it, everyone being a Cole would even be an improvement; he's too used to people having motivations beyond simply wanting to help or understand. At length, he finally replies– but not before encrypting his next message. Just because Dorian's willing to be understanding doesn't mean everyone else is.]

It's alright. [Surprisingly, that doesn't even feel as much of a lie as Adam had expected it to.] Should probably get used to talking about it anyway. If I'm being honest, I'm not really used to being the authority on how my own body works.

[For a while, he'd wanted absolutely nothing to do with it– but by inches, he'd finally come to realize that that just wasn't an option. For better or worse, this is... Him. And he needs the machine parts working just as well as the rest of him, whatever ensuring that entails.

At the very least, it entails being more open than he's used to being. Trust is a commodity: requires spending it to receive anything in return.]

There're different models of augs for just about any use you could think of. Limbs designed for heavy construction, for military use, mechanical work, sports– none of them are going to work the same way as the others.

Mine weren't designed with the need for a particularly soft touch in mind. [Kind of the opposite, his tone implies.]

I suppose we all think we are the authority on our own bodies until something stops working, or until something else takes over. [Which is a constant threat for mages who aren't careful, but Dorian rarely talks about this out loud because...well...he's accustomed to people not understanding.

Not all mages were good, this was true, his home had a fair share of wicked mages due to magic and power turning into an unchecked corruption. In the south...well, in the south things were different.

Regardless, Adam's augmentations were far more attractive than a mage who has become an abomination, and Dorian wondered frequently after technology.]

I can tell, that wine glass seemed to want to give under your touch. [Dorian just smiles, the wine glass is nothing really, he could fix it. Stuff could be fixed or replaced.] So your augs were designed for combat purposes, then? Can you train them to bend to your will...over time? Control the strength behind them?

["Until something else takes over?" A question to file away for later.

Adam makes a vague noise of assent. Even as obviously-augmented as he is, none of them really advertise themselves as the high grade, combat-oriented enhancements they really are – Sarif had always seemed like someone who valued form and function in equal measure, and his designs always followed a distinctive aesthetic. Blending in among fellow augs had never been difficult, with what the man had given him.]

That's the idea, yeah.

But the adjustment takes time, and at the same time there was a lot more of me I had to relearn how to use. Should've had more time to do so, as a matter of fact– but circumstances cut my recovery a little short. [And from the sounds of it, that's another story entirely.

Wryly, he adds:] Give me another couple of months, and I probably won't break any more of your stuff.

[That "something else" would be a demon, it's one of the curses of being a mage, particularly one who was unskilled. Dorian had experiences in the fade, some experiences...well...some he didn't talk about.

As far as Dorian could tell Adam's augmentations were attractive representations, not make shift pieces attached clumsily. There was something to be said about that much.]

Sink or swim situation I take it? Maybe the training facilities aboard the ship will be of use to you. I know I'll be using them to help me focus my magic a bit, it's somewhat unpredictable out here in space, though I suspect that has to do with being so far away from Thedas. [He's burnt his hands at least once so far.]

I'm good at fixing things, Adam...well, not everything, but a glass or chair is well within my abilities.

[Life or death, sink or swim – same thing.]

Yeah, I'm... Not going to forget that anytime soon.

[As far as his new experiences are concerned, he'd practically come out of the (Ingress') gate swinging with Dorian and his magic. Even as little a thing as a mended glass is, it'd certainly been a hell of an introduction to mysticism for someone who'd only known card tricks and sleight-of-hand prior to that.

He sighs.] Still. I'd prefer it if nobody had to clean up after me. [A pause and then, somewhat skeptically:] You're talking about the training simulations, though? Those actually work?

[He remembers running his fair share of VR sims back in police academy. Also remembers them being pretty garbage. But then again, that'd been more than a decade ago– and also not on a futuristic sci-fi spaceship in another universe.]

Yes, it is difficult to forget your first time, at least as far as magical experiences go.

[Dorian had been in a similar circumstance, still was actually, technology is its own magic, cooking is a mystery in the kitchen with those strange magic boxes and all of their knobs.

If Dorian can burn fish he'd be a wizard at taking out the whole kitchen area in mere minutes.]

I can understand that. I prefer to clean up my own messes as well, it makes it feel like I'm indebted to others if they try to help me. [And Dorian likes to prove that there are things he can do without the help of the Pavus name.] Ah, yes, as far as I am aware, it is a rather intense place to be, dangerous, people have been injured while training as far as I know.

Sounds like a good time. [That doesn't sound like a joke nearly as much as it probably should, but– honestly? Even just two weeks of inaction's left him feeling a little like he's starting to lose his edge. What with his new position and all, it's pretty much the last thing he needs.]

When you do check it out, go ahead and let me know. Wouldn't mind seeing what you can do with bigger magic. [Something more than static electricity. He's got a feeling there's more to it than creating sparks and mending cups.

It kind of sounds like a smile, what enters his tone now– but that can't be right! Can't prove anything without a video to go with it, anyway.]

And, you know? Best part of a sim is no one has to clean up anybody's mess.

[Dorian hasn't the battle instinct or the battle lust, but he doesn't enjoy being sedentary either, he's worked very hard on sculpting his body in a certain way. Normally mages were frail, especially in the south, they didn't get out of their prisons, and who knows how much sun they get. There were few places where one could find a rugged mage in the south, Kirkwall was one of them...and Dorian, coming from Tevinter? He could train like a proper mage.]

You wish to train with me? Well, I'll chat with the man in charge and we'll get something going shall we? He wants to run a program with me at some point, one that will help train us how to fight against magic. [Of course magic was a varied thing, but anything aggressively offensive, Dorian could probably help with. Still, if strange magical things were a threat, then perhaps he should be a part of training others to fight against it as long as that knowledge was used responsibly.]

There is that. Actually I am looking forward to making a mess, had to hold back on that last planet. [Dorian seems rather pleased by that prospect as well, mages ought to be mages, but there are few places where they are allowed to be on a ship.]

["We expecting to run into many magical enemies?" he almost asks, before stopping himself. Dumb question, on second thought. He'd never really thought of the wider implications of one person onboard having magic – now there isn't really a reason for him to believe that nothing else can possess powers like that either.

In which case, yeah – knowing how to combat something like that has kind of bumped itself up a couple of spots on his list of priorities. Honestly, he can't imagine it boiling down to anything other than "hurt them before they can hurt you" – same as anything else – but he could be surprised.]

The last planet? You mean the one with the slavers? [He hadn't been around for it, of course, but he'd heard a little of what'd happened. ] Can't imagine you'd have wanted to hold back much at all.

[Adam himself wouldn't have been able to promise as much, his tone suggests. Not really one to pull his punches.] In any case, that sounds like a plan. Drop me a line once you've got the details.

[Dorian couldn't be certain if all magic was the same everywhere, but he knew that it could be dangerous. If there was anything he could do to make it less so or to have others view magic in an entirely different light? Then why should he sit back and wait for the moment when magic becomes a thing of fear and loathing.]

We were advised to be as discreet as we could possibly manage, not to bring attention to the ship. Apparently we've made enemies out there already...otherwise I would have done a flashier job of things. [And he wanted to, he wasn't terribly violent, but when it came down to Dorian and his own life or the lives of his loved ones, or even a cause he was fighting for, he would fight ferociously if he had to.] I'll let you know, then.

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