009 // i carry your bones in my heart

[serpentis]

Who: Dorian and YOU
Broadcast: Fleet-Wide
Action: On the Three Twins!
When: 8/11, Midnight.

[It's rare in Drift Fleet to see Dorian as The Necromancer. He plays with people, he flirts with them. Occasionally his humor is morbid. But that's just him.

But tonight is different.

The broadcast is from a darkened cargo bay of the SS Three Twins.

Dorian is wearing black robes with a pointed hood, and as the broadcast starts, he gestures with a skull-topped staff, seeming to almost do it for show. There's a whispering of something circling him, a spirit, perhaps, and candles illuminate around him as it vanishes.]

I do hope you're having a good night. I had nearly lost track of the date, what with the odd stars, but I'm quite certain that it is the beginning of the eighth month, Matrinalis. Which means, for those of you unaccustomed to Thedosian holidays, it is All Soul's Day. Or close enough. ...regardless...

[He conjures a small flicker of fire in his hand, the light casting shadows on his face, the glowing purple lines of necromantic sigils and runes seemingly etched into his hands and arms.]

It is the day we Thedosians remember our dead. As a necromancer, I daresay I am qualified to lead the celebrations, if you will.

You are welcome to come and extinguish a candle for those you've lost.

((OOC: A combination network post and mingle log! Start up an action thread if you'd like, thread with other folks, just leave a comment in the subject if your character is looking to chat with Dorian.))

Comments

[serpentis]

Not entirely. I suppose it's a good gesture...

[And now he is curious, because he doesn't know much of Dalish customs about the dead]

Do you plant the tree with the body, so that death may nourish life? Or is it an entirely separate affair. Curiosity.

[dawnwillcome]

[She looks surprised by that, eyes widening as she watches Dorian like if she stares hard enough she'll find the way he guessed that. The shock quickly turns to something warm, of course, and she gives him a gentle smile.]

That's right. We plant the tree over the grave so that new life can come from death.

[serpentis]

[He bows his head, smiling a bit. That did sound entirely Dalish, and yet, beautiful in its own way. Part of what he had learned, as a necromancer, was how death was merely part of the cycle of life. It made sense that the Dalish would embrace it in a more natural way than the Mortalitasi did.]

It sounds like a beautiful ceremony, consanguinea. I'm afraid that our customs aren't nearly the same in Tevinter.

[Not where a mage's body could be embalmed and entombed, where a mage's blood could be given to a favored apprentice.]

This ceremony is simple but...it was one I always favored.

[dawnwillcome]

[Under normal circumstances this would be where she would make a crack about how very frightening Tevinter can be, but it's hardly the time now.]

I wouldn't imagine so, no. [And there's the question of whether the elves there even know the way their ancestors honored those that have passed on, but that's something that isn't best talked about now as well.] Is it something I can help you with?

[Not to call to the spirits, but to help him say goodbye.]

[serpentis]

If you wish...I have a good friend that I wish to remember. I miss Felix dearly, like one might miss a part of themselves. I suppose he was the closest thing to a brother I ever had.

[And now that he was gone, it was a good moment to say goodbye and gain some closure.]

[dawnwillcome]

Of course. I'll be there soon.

[When she arrives, it should be no surprise that she has a plant with her. It's a simple thing in a pot, yellow and black flowers winding their way up a wooden stake, but it seemed appropriate for Felix. Coming up beside Dorian she lays her free hand on his arm, leans up to kiss his cheek.]

Ir abelas, lethallin. Felix was a wonderful man, but he may return here one day. Don't give up hope.

[serpentis]

Perhaps it's better if he doesn't.

[He looks at the plant, and he shakes his head a bit.]

Consanguinea, you seem to know how to mend a wounded heart. It's a wonder...somehow, you manage to care so dreadfully much. I worry sometimes that you give too much of yourself to us.

[He sits down on a bench, and pats the space next to him.]

Arhen and Mahna both proved something to me, something I've been thinking on for some time. It would seem that, in timelines where you were not the Inquisitor, but another person was, I felt for them strongly, as well. Both came here and spoke to me as their lover.

[And it was difficult to deal with, knowing that in some other world, he had something like love. He didn't regret what he had now, though. Fenris had shown him more than another other man could have, from his hostility to his quiet tolerance, to begrudging friendship, and then to this, to lovers.

But knowing that, in some world, where a man was in Jove's place, that he could know love, it was a dreadful, daunting thing.]

[dawnwillcome]

[She sits beside him, smiling a sad smile of her own. This is something she wasn't sure they'd ever actually have a conversation about, if she's honest, because while they had gone through so many strange and trying things together in the past, this seems like it's on another level. That was two now, two Dalish men who led her life in another version of her world who fell in love with Dorian. She had been attracted to him herself, before she knew his preferences, and it had shifted into something else entirely. Admiration instead of attraction, love felt for a brother rather than a romantic partner.

Now, though? Knowing in different circumstances, he had found a lover in his Inquisitor?]

I know. It was different when it was just Arhen, but after Mahna... I can't help feeling guilty for it. Like I stole something from you, something more important than...

[Than herself? Her own life? Maybe. She rubs at her temple and shakes her head.]

I don't know. It's never sat right, though. I feel like I should apologize even though it's entirely out of my hands.

[serpentis]

No.

[He reaches over, and he takes her hand, and he shakes his head. He looks at her almost sadly, in a way that only Dorian can, where every feeling of gentleness is touched by melancholy and bittersweet. Underneath his skin was an ocean of a man, and most of his seas were sadness.

He manages a soft smile.]

I've seen that, in other timelines, there are men, multiple men, who cared for me. Perhaps there are a thousand of them that I will never know. Perhaps there's one in every other timeline but ours.

[He gives her hand a small squeeze.]

But there has only ever been one Jove. I wouldn't trade you for all of them.

[His sister, his kin. Jove was more precious to him than he could really say.

He gently presses a kiss to her forehead.]