fadewalk | RP In the Tavern: Open to Everyone

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The Herald's Rest was mostly dark and silent, except for the fire lit in the great hearth casting flickering shadows about the walls, and the blue glow emanating from a certain apostate sitting before the fire next to Marian Hawke.

Anders took a deep breath and the fade cracks receded from his skin. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers, and cradled a mostly-empty mug of some piss-quality ale in his free hand.

"Sorry," he said, yet again. "We've all but given up Justice's return to the Fade being a possibility. Really, I think he expected to die when I did. Seeing as I didn't, that leaves us both in a bit of a lurch." He looked into the flames with a frown.

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Walking into the Herald's Rest felt almost like stepping through a doorway into the past. The atmosphere was so familiar it made Dorian nostalgic. Regardless, someone had said "drinks," and he wasn't willing to pass up the opportunity. After a quick glance around to find a lack of familiar faces, he placed himself at the bar. There were very few places better than a friendly bar to meet new people.

"Decorating the bar, waiting for the attention that is your due?" Dorian tsked, moving to lean artfully against the bar next to the other man. "Some things remain constant across universes, it would seem."

He eyed the other...him...with frank curiosity. Older, dashing, and yes, the silver really did look rather good. That was good to know.

For his part, Dorian was dressed in a most unusual--and beautifully elaborate--robe that seemed as much metal as cloth in places, its delicate pieces reflecting the light.

(ooc;; to save my sanity and the continuity, I'm going to treat the separate threads as separate RP if that's alright!)

Hearing his own voice from behind him was jarring, to say the least. He turned about, half expecting to be face to face with a Pride demon, but was instead met with his own image, however metalically dressed. And much younger. How unfair. (There was nothing saying this wasn't a Pride demon, but as soon as there was any sign of that, Dorian would make sure said demon was dealt with properly.)

"Well if it isn't me! I say, I'm feeling quite beside myself." He very artfully didn't avoid the chance for a good pun as he gestured to the tavernkeep to bring them another of the same thing he was drinking. "I see my decorative patience has paid off and brought me what may just be the most handsome company in Skyhold--besides myself, of course, but we can argue that later."

"And he brings me puns!" Dorian said, covering his heart with one hand as he slid in next to himself. "Much better than anything Bull ever could manage, too. Is there any way I can convince you to come home with us when we finally escape this place?"

(OOC: Yes, please!)

Dorian laughed into his mug, though there was a quirk in his eyebrow saying he was actually considering the offer. "It wouldn't take much convincing, at this rate. Anything would probably be better than being stuck in the Fade for the rest of eternity. But imagine what father would say!"

"A little dye at the temples and no one need know," Dorian teased. "We could trade off dealing with the pit of vipers and actually tending to important research. Dazzle the court with our ability to be in two places at once and bring the magisterium crumbling to dust."

"I have a good deal of experience on the latter, believe it or not," he returned, his chest puffing a bit in his pride at his accomplishments. "I wouldn't mind getting to experience the end result this time, either. All that work, and I don't even get to enjoy the victory. However, the trade off of sitting at a bar with myself and a good drink in hand isn't so terrible."

"Hear hear." Dorian leaned against the lip of the bar, idly studying himself. "So, tell me of your life. Your research. Your daring political moves. It sounds I have a great deal of catching up to do."

He was still young--younger than the other Dorian had been when he first left home, though not by too much.