driftfleet | [Open Moons Mingle Log]

[Dorian chuckles, taking a drink.]

Very well, I will give you that.

[He calculates it quickly, what he should be here. He thinks like a chessmaster, like moving pieces across a board. Nel could stay wherever he was staying for the night, or Dorian could take him back to his room, give him somewhere safe to stay for the night.

So he nods.]

Shall I buy you a drink? I was going to return to my room soon, but you're welcome to join me.

[oho... he may be a handful of drinks into a good buzz, but he's quick to shoot Dorian a little glance at the offer.]

--To your room?

If you wish. I find that companionship is better than being alone, for the most part. I have a bed, one far more comfortable than in the Three Twins.

[Dorian ought to clarify, but the truth is that he's luring Nel in. Not out of ill intent, no. He's lying to him, leading him on, because he remembers how quick to flirt with him Nel was.

All Dorian wants to do is get him somewhere safe and make sure his shoes are off before he passes out, and possibly sleep in the other room.]

[it wouldn't be the first time that someone tricked him to a bed with the intention of making him sleep, and it won't be the last time that he falls for it.]

Oh... I totally agree. [just a big, doe-eyed grin. seeming so very happy.] And I'd love to.

...But, yes! One more drink. [at least.]

[Dorian hates himself for it. But he is a man who will do bad things for good reasons, and lying to Nel, leading him on, means that he can be safe for a night.

So long as he doesn't actually take advantage of him, Dorian can live with himself. It's tempting, but he's better than that.

He leans over the bar, gesturing for another drink, a whiskey, and holds it out to Nel when it's served.]

There you are. I hope you don't have any objection to it.

Ha, never. [and he takes it with relish.] What is it?

[...though he's absolutely taking a drink of it instead of waiting for an answer.]

What passes for whiskey on this moon. Not the worst I've had, mind you, but certainly far from the best.

[He takes a drink of his own.]

[he clears his throat against the burn of it, but nods.]

Yeah, it's different from the stuff back home, but pretty good!

[and he kind of... gives Dorian a little glance-over. not shy about it at all.]

You're probably used to much fancier stuff where you're from, huh?

That entirely depends on what part of my life we're talking about. My life in Tevinter, yes. My life in the South, not entirely.

[Life on the road was hard, after all, and he had less money than he would have liked. He couldn't afford nice whiskey, but he could afford tavern ale.]

...Is the first one your home?

[he's getting settled leaning forward on his elbows--an avid little audience]

Were you rich?

Yes, Tevinter was...is...my home.

[And at the second question, he laughs and takes a sip of his drink.]

More than some, not as much as some others, but as a Magister, my father had considerable holdings. I never wanted for anything material.

[Which was not to say there were immaterial things he never had.]

Oho, you must have been popular.

[and yeah, speaking of those immaterial things... Nel gives him a conspiratorial little smile over his own drink--which he might be drinking too quickly. he's not much of one for casual sipping.]

...Lots of boyfriends, probably?

[He nearly has a witty remark, and then Nel asks another question, and it feels like a stab in his heart. His heart turns again to Rilineus, how desperately he adored him, wanted more than just physical intimacy with him, how desperately he wanted to beg him to come with him, to flee from Quarinus and be with him...

But he never did.

He takes a drink.]

With my charms, I'm certain you can imagine.

[He's not ready to be that honest about himself, not yet.]

[and Nel takes the answer at face value, leaning back with a sly little hum, imagining.]

Ugh, I'm jealous.

[Dorian scoffs softly, taking another drink.]

Ah, but it wouldn't do to dwell on old lovers. There are hardly relevant here.

Good point.

[and Nel finishes the rest of his drink with a toss of his head. he's had this one in his hand for too long; he's already moving on to better and brighter thoughts.]

Hey. [he turns fully toward Dorian as he comes to a conclusion, as if it's the only logical one to be made here.]

We should do a shot.

[do they have shots in Thedas?]

A shot of what, exactly?

[He chuckles, amused, and looks Nel over.

He looks so small, in a way, and almost innocent, if not for the look on his face. Dorian wonders, briefly, if he actually holds any fondness toward him, or if it's all obligation.

He's not certain.]

[all Nel sees is the smile, all he hears is the chuckle, and he takes it all as encouraging.]

Whatever you want. Something strong.

[as if he's been keeping track of his own money at all, and is confident he can buy it.

at least he's attempting something like normalcy.]

[Dorian turns back, murmuring quietly to the barkeep, and they get their shots- something that looks inky black and smells pungent.

Dorian hands one over, and looks his own over. He'd had a few of these.]

Very well then. As they say, bottoms up.

[And then he laughs to himself, wincing as the alcohol goes down and burns.]

[his eyes widen in morbid fascination at the inky stuff, and he takes a sniff of it as soon as he's got the little glass in his hand.]

--Whoa. This stuff looks poisonous!

[but he's grinning; totally thrilled. the look of it adds just enough threat to be even more fun.

and he, of course, downs it without hesitation.]

[Dorian smiles, turning back to him. He rested a gloved elbow against the bar, and gestures.]

There we are. Ready to make our little journey? It's not but two streets away.

[he's drunk and grinning, floating, finally feeling as warm in his bones as he'd like.]

Oh, sure.

[lead the way, friend]

[Open Moons Mingle Log]

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