fadewalk | RP: Bull

Dorian wasn't sure how long he hung there, dangling from the edge of the high tower roof like a less-than-graceful cat. Long enough for his arms to burn with the strain. Certainly long enough for him to realize he wasn't getting out of this easily.

He mentally flipped through all the spells he knew and the gadgets he kept on-hand. None of them seemed like good options. He could maybe slow his fall so he'd just be broken from neck to toes instead of a bright smear against the stones, but that hardly sounded any better. And despite the fact that he was a mage in his very last hours of training--and quite an accomplished one at that, if he felt up to bragging--there was very little that would give him the momentum he needed to swing to the safety of the walkway.

He was well and truly fucked.

"Well," Dorian said, trying once again to drag himself up to the lip of the steep roof--and nearly losing his grip and his life as the loose tiles slid beneath his hand, "this is an embarrassing way to die."

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"Are you mad?" Dorian demanded, craning his neck to try to get a glimpse of Bull. He'd never admit to the fact that the rising panic in his breast immediately flagged at the sound of Bull's voice. At least, he'd never admit it out loud. But...yes, all right, he did immediately feel safer knowing the qunari was there.

Even if he was clearly a few bricks short of a full tower if he thought Dorian was going to just let go.

"I'd much rather we think of a plan that did not involve risky acrobatics, thank you."

"Your hands are going to give out before you think of a different plan. You need to swing over while you still have the strength." Bull planted his feet as heavily as he could and stretched out a couple more inches. His body was wide, strong, and tall. He knew that if Dorian swung over, he would be able to catch him.

Bull resolutely did not think about the alternatives. There wasn't room for doubt.

"You've gotta trust me. I won't let you fall." He strained a little more but could go no further without upsetting his foundation.

"Come on, Dorian. When have I ever let you fall? Trust me. I'll catch you."

Oh, it was completely unfair for Bull to talk like that. Because the thing was, Dorian did trust him, completely. Down to his core. In a way his father--and, on further thought, everyone he had ever known--would most certainly never have approved of.

But there was a wide, terrible gulf between feeling a thing and admitting to it.

"Well," he hedged, mentally flipping through his options.

Bull knew what he was doing. Dorian was a thinker, at his heart. He would spend the rest of the day thinking about his options if Bull didn't take the leap for him.

Hopefully Dorian's instinct to listen to Bull when his life was in danger was enough to override everything else. He'd apologize afterward. Bull protected Dorian, cared for him. But he'd never taken his choices away before.

"Before your hands give out, okay? You're going to swing, I'm going to count to three and you'll let go on three. I will catch you. I won't let you fall," he repeated. Bull took a long breath.

"One... two... Three!"

And Dorian swung and let go on three, without really even meaning to. It was as if his hind brain took over, interrupting the long, winding path of his thoughts.

He hissed in a breath, suspended in freefall for a moment that should have been terrifying (but really...wasn't); then Bull, true to his word, caught him.

"...well this is exciting," he breathed.

Bull pulled him up over the edge of the walkway and onto solid ground. His leg whined a little in protest, but Bull was more than strong enough to do it. "There you go," he said and clasped a hand on Dorian's shoulder. "You mind not doing that again? Thought I was going to have a heart attack." He spoke like Dorian regularly dangled from roofs out of his own free will.

(OOC: Jane REALLY wants to talk to Dorina. I only ever do that with her to him. UGH.)

He gave a little huff of breath and briefly pressed in against Bull, soaking in the comforting heat of him. Dorian let his forehead thunk lightly against Bull's chest in as close to an embrace as he was ever willing to get before straightening again.

"Yes, yes, well, I will consider it," he said, finger-combing his hair back into perfection. "Ah. Good catch. Thank you. And all that."

(OOC: Well, we will have to make it happen soon so she can get her fill. Maybe a new best friendship is bound to happen.)

Bull tilted his head down a little bit and frowned at Dorian's face. He reached up with one large hand and brushed back a small bit of hair that Dorian had missed. Dorian pressing against him sent a comforting warmth down Bull's spine that he tried not to think about.

Dorian was sexy and smart. A big pain in the ass most days, but Bull didn't mind too much. He was a challenge and that was real damn attractive. Bull would have taken him to bed in a heartbeat. He'd suggested it a few times, but Dorian had never taken him up on the offer. Bull couldn't tell if it was because he wasn't interested or if he was too wrapped up in who he was, where he was from to ever say yes.

Maybe some day. In the meantime, he tried not to take advantage when Dorian did stuff like this. Fuck, he was tempting, though.

"You doing okay there, big guy? You scared the crap out of me. Can't imagine how you're feeling."

"I scared you?" he tried to bluster, voice somewhere between teasing and gently mocking. It was the best way to hide the regrettable flush of his cheeks that rose when Bull brushed back his hair. Or looked at him. Or breathed.

And now, with his heart still pounding and Bull having (yet again, some more) saved him? It was damnably difficult to remember why showing his true interest was a very, very bad idea.

"We should-- Where are we?"

Bull noticed the flush that settled high on Dorian's cheeks and resisted the urge to lick his cheekbones.

He looked away to avoid any further temptation and looked out over the courtyard Dorian had just been dangling over. "Hmm, some kind of castle? What were you doing when you came here? For me, it was like I blinked and was suddenly standing right here."

Bull reluctantly stepped away from Dorian to peer closer at the architecture. "Huh... looks like anchient Fereldan. Didn't think they had many places like this left." Even if it was Fereldan, it didn't explain how'd they ended up here or... why the sky looked like that. Bull stomach rolled unpleasantly and looked away. He would deal with anything for Dorian, but that sky looked demon-y and he really didn't like demons.

"How utterly fascinating," Dorian--the giant nerd--murmured, running his hand lightly over the stone. "I've visited the ruins, of course, but no--there really aren't any old dames like this around anymore. The demon-infested skies could be better, but putting that from mind and this isn't such a bad foray from my studies." He paused. "Assuming I am returned in time for the final exam, naturally."

Yes, trapped in the Fade, surrounded by possible demon-sign, and Dorian was more worried about graduating than survival.

"Just tell your professors you were trapped physically in the Fade. They'll be too busy asking you questions to remember to fail you." If there was anything Bull had learned about Dorian's professors, it was that they were just as ridiculous about this kind of thing as Dorian was. "We do need to get out first, though. Any thoughts on that?" The Fade wasn't exactly Bull's wheelhouse. He wasn't a mage and, having spent most of his life a loyal member of the Qun, he would never be completely comfortable with anything having to do with magic. Exposure therapy with Dorian had worked wonders but this whole situation made him feel out of his depth.

Dorian opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Tilted his head.

"You know," he mused, "I do believe that would work. Which does relieve some that particular pressure, leaving only, oh, survival. though..."

Dorian considered Bull. "How annoyed with me would you be if I wanted to poke around and study the place first?"