dorian pavus (redimere) wrote in wtnvgame, @ 2022-02-03 13:51:00 |
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Entry tags: | !action/thread/log, -player: ashe, -player: emma, dragon age: dorian pavus, final fantasy: urianger augurelt |
Contrary to what some might think at first glance, Dorian was an academic at heart. Granted, what they thought - that he was a decadent, libertine hedonist - was also entirely true. What could he say? He had layers. The point was that he was an academic to the point that he had taken over the library as his personal space upon moving into Hawke Manor and had filled it with tomes from the Black Emporium and Skyhold, as well as penning his own treatises and theorems.
So the opportunity to have an intellectual discussion with Night Vale's newest resident was one he couldn't pass up. He'd been pleased when Urianger had accepted his invitation to visit the library of the manor, not just because the man was certainly attractive. He was fascinated by the specifics of his magic and eager to share his own work. So he'd set up tea in the library's sitting area and prepared for his new acquaintance's arrival. He'd divided the library into a workspace and sitting area on the lower level, keeping his personal space on the library's upper landing.
It seemed the Elezen - for that was the word the man had used - was not the punctual sort, but that didn't bother Dorian. Night Vale was an adjustment. Besides, he often got caught up in his own work. Still, the knock to the library door came soon enough and he opened it with little fanfare.
"Ah, there you are," he said, stepping aside. "Come in, come in. I'm sure we have much to discuss."
(Besides, despite assurances to the contrary, he did have to confess a slight reticence on learning the property's name; full well did he remember the Warrior of Light's tales of Lady Amandine's house of horrors).
In due course, however, he arrived, and while the estate was not homely, exactly, it at least skewed passingly-familiar, especially when compared to the rest of Night Vale. No obnoxiously purple apartments here, Twelve willing. He knocked, the door opened, and he dipped his head courteously (not quite a bow, nor enough to detract significantly from his stature), stepping into the room, his tone the careful diplomacy he'd practiced amongst Sharlayan academics - convivial, but measured, with only the barest hitch as he took in the presence of both books (praise be to Thaliak) and the mage with whom he had exchanged correspondence.
"Prithee, mistake not mine tardiness for ingratitude; full well do I appreciate the charity thou hast bestowed..."
It was the work of a moment to put a glyph in place once the door was shut. Realizing quickly that it might seem somewhat untoward, Dorian glanced over at Urianger. "My housemates do not always respect the sanctity of my space," he said. "So I find it prudent to give them somewhat painful reminders on occasion. It won't do any real harm, but they will remember to keep out...at least for a time."
Was it wrong to lock Hawke out of a part of her home? Possibly. But Dorian had never been good at sharing. Blame being an only child.
"In any case," he said. "I'm certain we have much to discuss. There is tea if you wish. Or wine, if you prefer."
The tingle of.... not aether, exactly, but something akin to it, was unmistakable, and Urianger found his attention straying to the glyph. That, too, felt both familiar and alien, a world away from the precise geometry he favoured and yet... Not unlike looking on a foreign language, knowing the symbols to be words but not yet grasping their meaning. He happily have lost himself in trying to discern such, but that would have been piling slight upon slight, and he inclined his head, returning his attention to Dorian. "A wise precaution... And whichever thou desirest, or the least hardship doth impose."
"At least someone appreciates my work," he said, crossing the room to the area that served as his study. There was a desk there, as well as a cabinet that housed a number of vintages. He had put a number of enchantments in place to keep the wine housed safely and properly. Pulling one out, he poured two glasses and passed one to Urianger. "How are you finding Night Vale, amicus?"
"Had I the liberty to sojourn here, I suspect t'would prove most diverting. 'tis passing-strange indeed that only Hyur resideth 'pon this shard, and that nowhere can the Mother Crystal's influence be readily discerned. One might go as far as to deem it Fascinating."
A slight shrug, and a measured sip of the wine.
"As 'tis, the prospect of egress needs must remain mine foremost concern, though none here seem sanguine regards mine chances... And I too must confess I know not where to begin. As thou art a learn'ed man, what wouldst thou counsel?"
"If by here, you mean my library," he said, "you are welcome whenever you like." He glanced over at Urianger. "If you mean you would rather be able to travel back and forth from your own world...well, we haven't worked that out yet, but there's nothing to say we won't figure it out." He'd worked out that Elezen were elves and Hyur were humans, and that Urianger came from a world with far more access to other realms than his own - not counting the Fade.
It was interesting to consider the notion of interconnected worlds. It was something he would need to apply to his own research. And perhaps something to discuss with Atisha at a later date.
"Just because something has not been done yet," Dorian said, "does not mean it's impossible. My work has taught me that time and again. Most people simply lack the imagination. And the talent and intelligence...but mainly the imagination. Lucky for you, I'm very intelligent. And very imaginative. I figured out time travel. I have every intention of figuring out this as well."
Was it arrogant? Probably. But Dorian had never claimed to be much in possession of the virtue of humility.
At the mention of time travel, however, he stopped mid-drink; lowering the glass, and raising an eyebrow, he regarded Dorian. "Truly? O'er time hast thou mastery, indeed? I fear I shall quite exhaust thy patience with questions."
He couldn't help but smile. It was so nice to have someone on his intellectual level who wasn't entirely exasperating. "I am always happy to answer questions about my work," he assured Urianger. "But I've also written it all down, which may better suit you. Or at least, remove some of your questions." He crossed the room to one of the shelves, pulling out a bound volume where he had penned his theorems on the subject of chronomancy, as he had taken to calling it.
"Here," he said, passing the book the the Elezen. "A theoretical treatise on the subject of Chronomancy. I do hope that you will find it to your liking." If his hand happened to brush Urianger's as he handed him the book, nobody needed to know about that. Let him have his small bits of flirting where he could get them. And it was subtle enough to not cause problems if the other man wasn't interested.
His heart leapt, both at the mention of written notes, and at the presentation of the book itself, and a long moment of awkward silence passed before he could muster words, smiling at Dorian as he took the tome. "I regret only that I have no treatise of mine own to offer in exchange; the scholars of Sharlayan have much to say on the subject." Composing himself, he gave a small bow of gratitude. "My thanks."
Because he didn't quite believe Solas was a god. Then again, he was certainly enough of a selfish, petty shit to be one.
That smile was reward enough, but Dorian could hardly say that. Maker, he was desperate if such a little thing made his heart skip beats. It had been far too long since he'd had any dalliances. "We'll, perhaps some of your own works will arrive here and you can share them," he said. "Or you can pen your own thoughts. In either case, I would welcome a discussion on the topic."
Glancing about for a nearby table, he placed both book and glass carefully (reverentially, even, in the case of the former) upon it, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for an altogether less cerebral bout, straightening out his spine, before beginning, gesticulating as he spoke, the movements of his hands fluid and, compared with his prior measured demeanour, almost theatrically animated.
"The secrets of ancient Allag are as yet, alas, a mystery unto the best of us, but we can surmise they necessitate a nigh-calamitous surfeit of aether; mine own efforts draw upon the confluences of the seven gates, their resonances and dissonances, and such influence as these might exert upon one's course... and, naturally, upon such geometric schema as hold favour amongst Eorzea's arcanamists. I am curious, by what mechanism dost thou enact this feat?"
Still, he was quickly caught up in the academic aspects of the situation, because the things Urianger was saying were incredibly fascinating. "Right," he said, stepping over next to Urianger and brushing his fingers along his exposed back for a moment. "So magic has changed greatly in my world since the days of Arlathan." Since Solas had decided to be a prick, he didn't say. "It used to exist in abundance, but then one of the...we'll say gods because that is how they're seen...erected a veil to divide the world of spirits and that of mortals. And magic became somewhat limited. There are two sources for magic. The Fade itself and one's connection to it - along with a substance called lyrium - or blood. Now blood magic is messy and frowned upon and honestly...not worth the effort." He was hardly going to go into the moralistic aspects of it. "And the Fade can be limiting in its own respects, because most mages aren't capable of tapping into their full potential."
He gave Urianger a sharp smile. "The reason being," he said, "most mages think there are limits. The Fade works largely based on how we believe it works. It's based on the mental and spiritual aspects of the self. So the second you stop prescribing limits to how it can work, the ways in which it does work become greatly expanded." He tilted his head. "In short, I decided there was no reason I shouldn't be able to bend time to my will, and with suitable effort, I made it so."
Case in point; he'd entirely lost what Dorian was saying, though he nodded sagely as he endeavored to recapture the thread.
"There is-" - a beat; he cleared his throat (why exactly was his mouth so dry? Another mystery for later), tried again - "I must confess a certain envy; while the principles are similar - that which you call the Fade we might consider analogous to our Aethyric Sea - the imposition of will alone is insufficient... presuming of course one wishes there to still be a world upon which they might impose said will."
"Aether does seem to have some commonalities with both the Fade and lyrium," Dorian couldn't help but agree. "I'd be interested in studying the both side by side to see if there is any connection between the two. Perhaps, if there is we might be able to work out a way for you to more easily manipulate the aetherial currents. And - in my case - even further expand the capabilities of what can be done." Carefully though. He hardly wanted to rend another hole in the sky. "And, again...the imposition of will is often insufficient because we convince ourselves that it is. I have no doubt you are capable of far more than you believe."
"Tell me," he said after a moment, glancing at Urianger as his mind jumped from one thing to another, as it was wont to do. "Do you play chess?"
The change of topic interrupted that reverie, and he blinked, eyebrow raised quizzically, before responding. "... 'tis an Ishgardian game of strategy, is it not? I had not thought to encounter it here. I comprehend the theory well enough, but Eorzea offered few opponents, and Il Mheg none at all.... I had hoped our erstwhile companion, the esteemed Azure Dragoon, might favour me with a game or two, but alas, his interests trend more martial than cerebral."
... first Moen, and now Estinien; apparently something about Dorian had him in the mood to reminisce. Curious.
"Wouldst thou indulge mine curiosity? Assuming thou tirest not of my company ere we play."
"I am unfamiliar with Ishgard," he said, "but it is absolutely a game of strategy, yes. And one I'm quite fond of." He liked Wicked Grace, but there was something about the one-on-one interactions of a good game of chess. And he was certainly interested in this man Urianger had hoped would favor him. "I'm surprised your Dragoon wasn't more amenable in that case. There is something of martial tactics to the game, however cerebral it is."
Gesturing to a smaller table by the fire, a board and pieces set upon it, he inclined his head toward Urianger. "I'd be delighted to indulge you in any way you wish," he said. "I have a feeling you will take to the game easily."
He cleared his throat. "Ishgard is a wretched place. Nothing but ice, snow, and interminable theopolitical machinations. As for Estinien...I dare say Thedas has such men as he. Those who would rather Do than Think."
Taking his glass with him, he moved in the direction indicated, though did not sit just yet, instead glancing first to the board (the pieces and the grid both unfamiliar, and, blessed Thaliak, this might have been a terrible mistake) then back to Dorian. "Which side do you favour?"
"Ishgard sounds a lot like Orlais," he said, "but colder." He laughed. "And I certainly know a man quite like your Estinien. But he could at least appreciate a game of chess." Oh, the commander. Even if it weren't for the fact that he was impossibly heterosexual, he had not left the Templars so far behind as he liked to pretend.
"I'll take white I think," he said, settling down at the hexagonal board and taking a sip of wine. "That way you can get an idea of how the game is played."
He steepled his fingers, resting his chin on them and his elbows on the table as he surveyed the board intently, already reviewing the various stratagems he had read about.
Glancing at the board, he toyed with one of the pieces for a moment before looking at his opponent. "Let's begin, shall we?"
Glancing up, he inclined his head slightly - "Whenever it pleaseth thee." - awaiting Dorian's first move.
"Many things please me," he said with a smile. "For now, this will certainly do."