pullmeoutalive | RO > call me out; a forever open RP post, version 2

[ Library? Store? Hard to say, though a quick glance at the titles nearby are not familiar in the slightest, (The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy? How terribly strange), and--

But hark, a voice. Dorian grips his staff, still crouched (because standing sounds all too trying, at the moment, and what a terrible predicament that is, if he's forced to cast at a moment's notice). ]

And here I was thinking I was all by my lonesome. Hello, there. Terribly rude of me to drop in unannounced, I know, but these things do happen.

[ Charlie edges his way around the bookcase to find---

a dude who looks like he just fell out of the local Renaissance Faire.

What is even the fuck. ]

You, uh. You okay there?

[ He could say the same to you -- what are you wearing, sir? Drab commoner's clothing, it would look like. Certainly not anything in vogue in the north or even the south, the latter of which is certainly saying something.

Perhaps best not to insult him until Dorian knows him from friend or foe, so he simply waves a free hand dismissively. ]

-- Fine, fine. Bit out of sorts, but if given a moment, I'm sure the room could be persuaded to stop dipping as it is.

Take your time.

You did just kind of... teleport into my store from God-knows-where so.

[ Book store, then. One mystery down, only several million more to go. ]

Ah, yes, I suppose I did. Sorry about that.

[ He's silent for a beat, then-- ]

Don't suppose you could tell me, exactly, where I am?

Uh. Denver, Colorado ring any bells?

[ Judging by the concerned frown, the mage's answer is likely a firm no. Still, Dorian is nothing if not adaptable, and so his tone, if nothing else, is remarkably flippant. ]

Haven't the faintest clue where that is.

[ He struggles to his feet at last, still depending on his staff to hold him upright, and he puts a hand to his chin as he thinks. ]

And if that's the case, I would think it reasonable that you have never heard of Orlais. Would I be wrong?

No, you wouldn't be.

[ he glances up at the ceiling, to the place the light had come from ] Some kind of portal, then?

[ Dorian follows his gaze upwards, and shrugs his bare shoulder. Frustration is starting to show on his face (it is far simpler to display annoyance, after all, than to panic, which a lesser man would surely be doing right now). ]

I can only assume.

[ He lets out an aggravated sigh, smoothing down his robes, before looking up at Charlie a little sharply. ]

You seem rather calm about this. A strange, handsome, strapping man appears in the middle of your store, talking about a land of which you've never heard -- and yet you don't seem particularly frightened.

Seen this before, then? Or has the shock gotten to you?

Of all the bookstores in all the world, it's probably good luck you ended up in mine. I'm notoriously hard to shock.

[ and he's read about this sort of phenomenon, though he's never experienced it himself before now ]

I'm Charlie. You are-?

[ Dorian arches an eyebrow, evidently not content to let his suspicion go, just yet. ]

Dorian Pavus. Typically I would say I would say the same of myself -- that is, that I'm difficult to surprise -- but given the fact I find myself some place entirely foreign and altogether alien, I'm afraid that's rather out of the cards.

So uh, speaking of surprises: quick question before I let you come around that bookshelf-- does the place you're from have cars? Electricity? Indoor plumbing?

[ Peeeeeeering at him for a long moment, then, slowly, ] ... No.

... Hooboy.

This place is rather heavy on the technology. Very heavy on the technology, in fact. So try not to freak out when you look out my window and see big metal things on wheels zooming past.

[ This time, Dorian looks the teensiest bit offended. Evidently he doesn't like being spoken to as if he were some easily spooked horse. ]

Ah, so I suppose that means I should refrain from shaking in my boots, curling up into a fetal position, and weeping at the foreignness of it all whilst blubbering for mummy?

Such a shame. I'm rather good at all of that, you know.

Hey, just a fair warning. Culture shock can be a bitch.

You're already gonna stand out like a sore thumb in those clothes, and with that staff. No need to add to it.

And what, pray tell, is wrong with my clothing?

[ He says, wearing far too many belts and buckles than could possibly be practical. ]

Aside from the fact that your outfit looks like it was designed by Square Enix?

You see what I'm wearing? [ jeans, t-shirt, jacket, tennis shoes ] This is the norm. That-? That is so not the norm.

Square--?

[ No, alright, select your battles carefully, Dorian.

He looks over Charlie's clothing again, a slow gaze from head to toe, then cants his head slightly to one side. ]

So. Disheveled and unfitted is what's considered average attire, then?

Whatever you want to call it, it's not five thousand belts and having just one shoulder bare. [ what's up with the shoulder thing, really? ]

I--- look, I'm not trying to be rude. You're obviously displaced, and you're gonna need some help.

I was just closing up for the night. If we can get back to my apartment, I can get you some clothes, some food, and we can try to figure out how the hell you got here and how to get you home.

[ It occurs to Dorian, suddenly, that he's being the rude one.

Which tended to be the case. He had a rather smart tongue, after all. (Smarter in other ways, as well, though that only rarely came up.)

And the man (Charlie, was it?) hadn't attacked him yet, which was decent of him. No telling how anyone else would've reacted to a man magically appearing in one's sitting room, for instance. (Dorian, for his part, possibly would have blown the poor fool up, had their roles been switched.)

As it stands, Dorian relents, head tipping slightly. ]

That was unworthy of me. I apologize. Any assistance you can provide would be most appreciated.

I's okay, really. New place, new people, I don't blame you for being kind of prickly.

[ he wanders over, offering Dorian a hand ] Can you stand?

[ The short moment it takes for him to think over the answer to that question is sadly telling.

But at length he nods, taking Charlie's offered hand and using his staff to pull himself up. His limbs feel stiff and sore, and several months ago he would've been more upset feeling the would-be bruises that would surely mar his skin come morning.

Since joining the Inquisition, he'd grown far too accustomed to injury.

And naturally, he stumbles immediately. ]

-- My apologies.

It's okay. We're not going far. I hope you don't mind one more portal in your day.

[ Usually Charlie prefers to walk to work, but this was a special case. He let's Dorian lean on him if he needs it, and he brings up a hand to cast. The mark he draws is someone complicated, but in a few short moments, the air before them shimmers and tears open, revealing Charlie's living room on the other side. ]

[ That.

Is a brand new form of magic.

And suddenly, Dorian's eyes light up. ]

I've never seen magic performed that way. And to open a portal, no less? Remarkable!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject