driftfleet | half a world away

[Dorian had a routine. Wake up after sleeping entirely too long, get up, bemoan that he looked like a ragamuffin, shower, try to tame his hair and moustache, eat.

He was....adapting. Not well, but though he was a vain fop, he was also an adaptable man. He survived, above all else.

And this was surviving.

He ate his breakfast, almost more out of duty to his body than enjoying it, and swept himself back into the bunk. He had been meaning to talk to Nel again, give it another try, now that he understood the situation better.]

Ah, good morning, Nel. How are you, this morning?

[He leaned against the entryway, smiling at him.]

[and Nel's routine--what little he'd had--has completely fallen apart. he's spilled and spent so much of himself recently that he just doesn't have the energy to buzz around and stay smiling like he'd been trying to do until now.

he's awake, but he hasn't gotten out of bed. he's never up and active very early, but this is still different. all swaddled up in his blankets, he just spends his time staring somewhere. and he doesn't move until he's being spoken to, forced to acknowledge that he's still right here in this ship.

and that's when he finally pushes himself up to sit on the edge of the cot--taking the blankets with. he rubs his puffy eyes and tries to push his hair into the shape it's supposed to be in.]

I'm okay.

[it's the answer he always gives.]

[Dorian manages to keep his tone light, almost teasing, but he steps forward and settled himself on the cot next to Nel.

He had to do something, he promised he would do what he could, he was simply never goot with this sort of thing.]

You don't look okay. You look a bit ghastly.

[Dorian reaches over, hesitantly touching Nel's hair, before his hands become more confident, brushing it into some semblance of order with his fingers, gently pulling apart tangles and fixing it just enough that the messiness looks effortless, intentional.]

There, that's a fair bit better.

Edited 2015-02-01 03:33 (UTC)

[hearing that he looks as bad as he feels sure makes him more miserable... but being doted on and cleaned up a little patches that up pretty well.

honestly, being straightened out by someone older, taller, automatically eases some weight of independence off his chest. just a little, but it has an effect. it's reassuring to him.]

Sorry... I know I look gross.

[Dorian knows he has to be careful here, as much for Nel as for himself. For as much as he despises he Magisterium, he knows, in some ways, he is enough like them. How simple it would have been to let himself fall into the pit of vipers and never come out except as a bent and broken man, as crooked as the rest.

Nel needs to stand on his own, and as tempting as it may be, Dorian knows he can't force him. He can help, but he has to take care to keep Nel from growing too dependent.

He knows that feeling well enough, it's a fault he has, himself.]

I've seen much worse. You don't have lyrium growing out of you, so consider yourself not half as gross as I have seen.

[and, oh, how Nel would love to just stick helplessly to someone else right now. not being able to chemically numb himself up against the world as much as he'd like makes the inclination worse. just quietly kind of desperate for something to make him feel better.

he rubs his eyes again, even though there really isn't anything to clear away. it's probably just a gesture of self-consciousness at this point.]

I'm not usually like this, I promise.

[please believe him. please like him. he hardly knows this guy, but the worry is there.]

You have nothing to prove to me, Nel. I will not fault a man for sadness.

[He ducks his head down a bit to look at him, and smiles a bit.]

I may not seem it, but even I have my moments of despondence. You merely need to get your feet under you. Merely...listen to me...as if it were so simple.

[He waves a hand dismissively.]

You have friends, do you not?

[though he has generally been dodging eye-contact, he glances over to watch Dorian's face for most of that. he still hasn't gotten a handle on his new crewmate enough to know whether or not to trust the things that come out of his mouth, so... might as well start trying to figure it out now.

and he only answers with a little nod.]

Well, good. When I had to get my feet under me, I was decidedly more alone. It was...difficult. But if I can do it, I have faith you can, as well. Friends are helpful- they prop you up when you need it, if they're good ones.

[Who does Dorian have? He had the Inquisitor, and the rest- Sera, Varric, Iron Bull...even Solas was a companion, of sorts. Cullen was fun to play chess with. And now, he was back to the start. Varric didn't remember him, and no one knew him here.

He would have to start over. But if there was one thing Dorian was good at, it was that.]

You can count me as one of them, if you wish. I know we don't know each other very well just yet, but I'm sure we will, in time.

[his brow furrows a little, when Dorian talks of being alone and getting his feet under himself. it makes him worry. as far as Nel knows, as little as he's actually heard from Robin... he thinks the worst has already past. he's still worried about some things, but nothing that would leave him alone.

but he doesn't voice his confusion out loud. it just hangs around on his face for a second or two, and then he's glancing away-- because eye-contact is overwhelming again --and he nods, just a little.]

[Dorian nods, giving Nel's back and a small pat, and then the smile fades, and he realizes there's something that needs to be said.]

It can be tempting to go back to him, to someone else. You might feel you need someone, need the stability. If you're going to be your own person, you need to resist that temptation.

[and like a switch, it's like he can shut off his own ears. he looks away, leans away, stops hearing a single word coming out of Dorian's mouth.

he jumps to the first thing in his head instead, rubbing his face and sliding a glance toward the door, as if no other words had happened in the last few seconds.]

I really need a shower.

[Dorian nods softly and stands, fully aware that he said something too much, pushed Nel too far. He doesn't fully understand. He wishes he did, but at the same time, he knows he never will truly know what Nel is going through. His own experiences are a mere echo.

He walks to the door, and he looks behind himself.]

Let me know should you need anything.

[he only glances over while Dorian is on his way out. his eyes are down and away again by the time the man looks back.

and he nods.]

I will.

...Thanks.

[ Well, at least she's not screaming at anybody anymore??? She's ... just sulking in the captain's chair, playing with her hair.

Maybe she should go check on Nel ... ]

half a world away

For Nel // 1/31, morning

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