Dorian of House Pavus (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tevinteraltus) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
riverviewlogs2018-02-24 12:27 am
tevinteraltus) wrote in riverviewlogs2018-02-24 12:27 am
Entry tags:
Can't read my, can't read my, no he can't read my...
who: Dorian, Cisco, Magnus, Iona, Taako (and people they invite)
what: Sharing card games! Drinking! Probably badand not so bad life choices!
when: February 10th, laaate to even laaaater
where: An out of the way bar
warnings: Drinking, references to sex, mental abuse (the night is young, and I mean references okay), and who knows, these are some crazy kids.
Dorian had actually taken time to process having found decks of cards from Thedas in one of the shops in the Quarantine. He'd resigned himself to this place, was actually starting to like it at times, and enjoy the company of certain men (which he tried very hard not to think on overmuch). Then this threw a wrench into his carefully laid new life. The homesickness had very nearly started to fade to a dull throb, and yet there it was again, flaring with renewed vigor. He'd shown the deck to Iona, and suggested they gather some friends, his friends really (which was still odd to think of) for a lesson and a few rounds at a local bar. No wagers were necessary of course, but the night could go in any direction.
He'd texted Cisco, and they'd added other games to the mix as well. It was, of course, most likely to be a casual affair with various games at different times, but it should be fun, and good for Iona. Something was bothering her, after all.
He was more nervous, of course, of his introducing her to Magnus. She who was so much like a sister to him, a long lost sibling he'd never had and the closest to family he'd ever known and he...was, well, complicated. Dorian had a lot of feelings regarding Magnus he hadn't taken the time to articulate, and they were only getting more twisted and hard to identify as time went on. Now, on top of that, well, let's just say it's a fine thing this place serves wine.
Living in the communal housing and collecting a wage meant reserving one of the establishment's back rooms for their use, with it's scattered tables, hadn't broken the bank so to speak, and he was going to leave everyone to their own tabs of course. This wasn't a charity event, after all. Those who arrived would need only mention who they were looking for to be shown to the back rooms.
(OOC: Feel free to post your own mingle posts for chilling at the bar, and such! Taking part in the actual game of Wicked Grace isn't required to chill!)
what: Sharing card games! Drinking! Probably bad
when: February 10th, laaate to even laaaater
where: An out of the way bar
warnings: Drinking, references to sex, mental abuse (the night is young, and I mean references okay), and who knows, these are some crazy kids.
Dorian had actually taken time to process having found decks of cards from Thedas in one of the shops in the Quarantine. He'd resigned himself to this place, was actually starting to like it at times, and enjoy the company of certain men (which he tried very hard not to think on overmuch). Then this threw a wrench into his carefully laid new life. The homesickness had very nearly started to fade to a dull throb, and yet there it was again, flaring with renewed vigor. He'd shown the deck to Iona, and suggested they gather some friends, his friends really (which was still odd to think of) for a lesson and a few rounds at a local bar. No wagers were necessary of course, but the night could go in any direction.
He'd texted Cisco, and they'd added other games to the mix as well. It was, of course, most likely to be a casual affair with various games at different times, but it should be fun, and good for Iona. Something was bothering her, after all.
He was more nervous, of course, of his introducing her to Magnus. She who was so much like a sister to him, a long lost sibling he'd never had and the closest to family he'd ever known and he...was, well, complicated. Dorian had a lot of feelings regarding Magnus he hadn't taken the time to articulate, and they were only getting more twisted and hard to identify as time went on. Now, on top of that, well, let's just say it's a fine thing this place serves wine.
Living in the communal housing and collecting a wage meant reserving one of the establishment's back rooms for their use, with it's scattered tables, hadn't broken the bank so to speak, and he was going to leave everyone to their own tabs of course. This wasn't a charity event, after all. Those who arrived would need only mention who they were looking for to be shown to the back rooms.
(OOC: Feel free to post your own mingle posts for chilling at the bar, and such! Taking part in the actual game of Wicked Grace isn't required to chill!)
The Game | OTA
"Shall we begin?"
(OOC: I figure this can be super casual, and if enough people want to play we can decide an order? Wicked Grace is a pretty fluid game regardless, so people can come and go.)
no subject
He'd brought his regular pack of playing cards, as well as a set for loteria, if they had time for it. But for now, he wants to learn about this game of Dorian's that had been the cause of all this festivity. He pulls up a seat at the table, a drink in hand, asks: ]
Alright, Dorian. Rules time. Lay it on me.
[ The game itself would start in a few minutes when some others congregated. Cisco wanted to start learning and formulating strategies now. He's here to have fun, but he's gonna try to win, too. ]
no subject
He nodded, reaching for the grace deck and, instead of cutting or shuffling the cards, flipped it over and spread them across the table. What Cisco will see is a set of cards, different illustrations of snakes, knights in armor sporting different tabards, daggers of different makes and metals, winged angels in various colored robes, and harpists set upon different scenes, and one dark-winged angel in a black cloak.)
Wicked grace is a game of chance, but also of deceit. One will deal, the other with play. Initially, the player or players will be dealt five cards, they will then take turns drawing a card from the deck and choosing a card from their hand to discard. Once the Angel of Death is drawn, (he indicates the dark-winged angel card) the game comes to an end and all hands must be revealed. Whomever has assembled the greatest matches wins.
no subject
[ No point even pretending otherwise. Cisco's got such a bad poker face - or, well, wicked grace face, in this case. But he listens patiently as Dorian explains the rules. The five cards in hand, discard and draw new, all sounds familiar enough. Until he gets to the end. ]
Greatest matches? The most you can get is two pair, isn't it? What makes a match a good match? There a hierarchy or ranking system? How's deceit come into it?
[ As he's asking questions, Cisco reaches over for the Angel of Death card, examining the art on it, turning it over in his hands. The similarities to card games on Earth are remarkable to him. Despite coming from such different worlds, there are such odd points of congruence. ]
no subject
No. One may also collect, if one is careful and lucky, a full suit. The knights of Charity, Harmony, Chivalry, and Honor for instance, which is greater than two pair of other suits. Though the Knights will win over a full suit of Daggers, Angels over Knights, and so forth.
(He clears his throat.)
Deceit comes into play when deciding whether or not to continue playing. Players are welcome, of course, to be dealt in or fold any time before the Angel of Death is revealed, and winning is as much about disquieting your opponents into leaving before they've won as it is about the winning.
no subject
Okay, so, this really does sound a lot like a game we've got on Earth called 'poker'. Never been great at that one, but, who knows. Maybe I'll get lucky.
[ He declares it sunnily, with a smile; gesturing at the deck, he asks: ]
Can we do a couple practice rounds? Just the two of us? Not till we get to the Angel of Death or with any folding or that, but just a few rounds and then compare hands, so that way I can work on memorizing which are the best?
[ The rest of the guests are still chatting, getting their drinks, socializing, and Cisco gives Dorian is absolute best combination puppy-eyes and winning smile. ]
no subject
(And Dorian punctuates his agreement by taking the deck and beginning to shuffle. By the way he handles the cards, he's probably played before, but he doesn't have the practiced grace of a card shark or anything like that.)
Though I should warn you, Wicked Grace is a game that varies greatly depending on the other players.
no subject
[ Cisco takes the cards from in front of him once Dorian deals them; the way he speaks about his own limitations doesn't have the ring of false modesty. There is a frankness to it, a resignation, that makes it clear that Cisco believes he's delivering an accurate assessment of himself. ]
no subject
All that really mattered was the fact that Cisco was, after all, very right about his powers of deception. He was dismally terrible at it.)
Yes, well, at least you're honest with yourself. I'm not looking to win anything off of you, of course.
(He paused for a moment, looking thoughtful.)
Unless you'd like to place a wager on it, of course.
no subject
[ Cisco laughs, eyes bright; he has no doubt that Dorian would absolutely win any wager they set, gleefully and unapologetically. But that's something Cisco likes about Dorian. There's something compelling about his unabashedness and charm. Sometime, Cisco's going to have to sit Dorian down and make him watch an old Bond film. Sure, they're dated, and campy, and absurd, but Cisco's got a feeling that Dorian might feel a kind of debonair affinity for it. ]
Anyway, Eddie's the competitive one, not me.
[ But despite the fact that he's not obsessed with winning, Cisco does love a game. So he throws himself into learning, but just as much of his energy is spent on cracking jokes, and trying to make Dorian laugh and smile as often and as loudly as he could. ]
no subject
Dorian was nothing if not impressive. It was a point of pride. He wasn't always a social butterfly, but he could schmooze with the best of them if he needed to, and besides...these were his friends. That concept in and of itself was newer than he'd like to admit. He'd accepted long ago he'd be alone, and yet recent history both on Thedas and here had proven otherwise. It was an odd revelation.
That being said, he was dressed for it. Of course, no one could ever say Dorian ever dressed any less than his best. Tonight, he was enjoying his wine at a table near the entrance to their private room as he waited for the others to arrive, dressed in something stylish but more casual than his usual wardrobe, he's certainly not trying to look like he may be trying to impress anyone who may or may not be stopping by. While he was incredibly nervous to introduce two of them, he had no intention of showing it. Instead, he'll smile his charming smile at whomever arrives and wave them over to join him at least for a moment.
A different course this time (and maybe something more) | Closed to Magnus
Magnus' bedroom in the house he shared with Taako and Lup hadn't precisely become familiar yet. They'd only shared a bed a few times, and while the sex was, indeed, marvelous, he'd never stayed after. Each time they'd been together, though, Dorian had found it more and more difficult to leave. He had, of course. That was what was expected, at least in his mind, and Magnus never protested. It was clear the man felt the same. And yet, this time, as he stood to collect his discarded clothing, he paused, nearly turned to Magnus' prone form on his bed, nearly asked if he could stay, but...
...how foolish would he appear to assume Magnus wanted more? How stupid would he be to think it could be more? Hadn't he learned better than to hope, to...dream? He covered up his look of trepidation with one of annoyance, turning his back side, bare as it may be, to the bed and to Magnus as he looked around the room. He didn't harbor any sort of actual irritation as to the state of the place, anyone who'd seen Dorian's workspace could attest to that, but Magnus didn't need to know that, and it was as good an explanation for his postponing leaving as any.
"Magnus, if you're to continue inviting me to share your bed, you could, at the very least, tidy up a bit." He looked back over his shoulder, not turning, but looking in Magnus' direction. "Is that too much to ask?"
no subject
He's having a hard time buying that this is really what's on Dorian's mind—at least, he doesn't want to. They've got a good thing going (whatever it is), and he's pretty sure it would take a little more than some clutter to turn Dorian off at this point. He straightens himself up in his bed, focusing his posture on Dorian. "Is that—is there something else on your mind?"
no subject
He took a steadying breath, still not turning to face the man, but tilting his head to the side as he looked about the room again, tapping his chin thoughtfully. He would have to craft this comment very carefully if he was going to prod Magnus' potential interest without letting his own desires show. At least he hoped it wouldn't betray his own feelings on the matter.
"One would think, if someone had a desire to attract the continued attention of another, they would seek to impress them with their housekeeping, at the very least." He paused for a moment before rolling his shoulder in a shrug and hazarding a glance back toward Magnus. "Wouldn't you agree?"
no subject
"I guess that makes sense, yeah." He smirks, figuring that eventually he'll get some kind of truth out of Dorian. He'll wrestle it out if he has to. "But you've come back here, what, five, six times? I was under the impression that you were starting to like it. Figured I was getting by just on my smokin' hot looks."
no subject
"I suppose it's sufficed for the moment, and the room, while a tad small, isn't claustrophobic. I would add a few more cushions, and are more bookcases." He took a steadying breath before continuing. "Not that I'm suggesting mutual domesticity, of course, but I may be more inclined to visit."
no subject
“Sooo, what you’re saying is, fill the place up with books and pillows and that might convince you to actually stay the night.”
It sounds confident enough, but if Dorian turns to look at Magnus he’ll notice that confidence shrinks away right after it leaves his mouth. He realizes a little too late that maybe this isn’t the bush that Dorian was beating around. He's suddenly afraid he seem pushy, or clingy, or whatever. So, to cushion what might end up being his fall, he adds, softly, “I mean... if you want to stay, you can. I'd be cool with that."
no subject
He swallowed the lump that clenched his throat as best he could, and took a steeling breath before finally just asking. He could leave quickly, of course, forget the big man's number, and carefully avoid anywhere that could risk their meeting again, depending on the answer.
"Do...you want me to stay?" He couldn't bring himself to look at Magnus, not directly. He didn't think he could bear the rejection if it came.
no subject
...But instead, he asks, 'Do you want me to stay?' as if the answer hadn't been obvious. (At least, Magnus thinks he's being really obvious.) Despite his nerves—or maybe because of them—Magnus lets out a soft chuckle in response to Dorian's question. "I kinda just asked you to, didn't I?"
But he doesn't leave it there; it wouldn't be fair to. So he clarifies, sincerely, "Yes, I want you to stay. I'd like that."
no subject
Dorian finally turned to him then, his conflicting emotions evident in his expression. It seemed almost stricken, fearful, and probably more uncertain than Magnus had ever seen him before. The incredulousness of that one uttered question was there as well, and he swallowed, shaking his head before returning to the bed, having a seat, but pulling his eyes from Magnus as he did so.
"I...perhaps I should...explain." He took a deep breath to steady the trembling from his voice. He shouldn't be this afraid and yet, here he was, as though the world teetered on the brink of this conversation. Maker he could be over-dramatic sometimes. His mother always told him that. "This sort of thing isn't...accepted in my homeland. It isn't done save behind closed doors, and...it's only ever sex. I never—" He cut himself off again to steel his nerves. "I decided at an early age, regardless of what my family expected of me, I refused to live a lie, to...marry some unfortunate scion of some powerful Altus house and spend my entire life in misery. In accepting that, I also accepted I would live in relative peace...thoroughly alone."
He hazarded a glance at Magnus, much closer now than he'd been before, to gauge exactly how over-dramatic the other man thought he was, or if he seemed to care at all.
no subject
Magnus has had the virtuous luck to come from a universe where preferences are just preferences, and nobody thinks anything of it. It's only since his arrival in Riverview that he's heard of any such discrimination. It's, frankly, one of the grosser injustices he's heard of. If he were lacking in sensitivity he'd let himself get riled up in anger about it, but he knows that would do no good. It's not what Dorian needs right now.
Nothing about Dorian's admission seems over-dramatic. It's perfectly reasonable for him to have been nervous about this. "I'm... I'm sorry you had to live like that. It's really brave for you to do that. To live your own life, against your family's wishes." If the two had been closer at this point, if this hadn't been their first real Feelings Talk, Magnus might have pulled Dorian into a big, crushing hug, but he's smart enough to consider that it might be just a little inappropriate for right now. Instead he opts to be less invasive by placing a warm hand on Dorian's shoulder, squeezing gently, still offering comfort in a small way. "You don't have to live like that here, y'know... Alone, I mean."
no subject
But Magnus' words caught him off-guard. Iona had said something similar, after she'd been thrust in between he and his father: that he was, "brave?". The word was barely muttered, and asked of the air more than directed at Magnus himself.
Dorian still didn't understand how running away from one's problems was a courageous act, and now, with his father's apparent assassination and his ascension to the Magisterium regardless, it didn't seem as though he'd run all that far after all. He gave a shake of his head, as though to ward away the thoughts of home, a place so far away and at the moment unreachable, and turned his head toward Magnus instead.
"...what is it you're trying to say?" No, there was no call for solitude, that was certain, but he couldn't simply assume. It was too risky, too much chance for heartache.
no subject
His lips purse as he tries to put some safe, chill, non-threatening words together. But Magnus isn’t particularly good at words, or, really, at thinking. What he’s good at is acting before he can consider the consequences. So he gives up on thinking and, instead of speaking, he moves. His hand slides up to Dorian’s cheek and he leans in to kiss him. Although this isn’t their first (not even their first tonight), he does it more softly, more sweetly than any of their previous kisses.
When he pulls away, his hand rests once again on Dorian's shoulder, with the intent of giving him some breathing room to think in. But when it comes to words, Magnus has, at this point, thrown safe out the window. So he just says it. “This doesn’t have to just be a sex thing. It can be a feelings thing, too."
no subject
He'd read of the blush, the flush of emotion that welled within one's breast when one's desires for companionship sparked a deeper lust, when attraction meant a fondness for a person and not only a stiffness in the smallclothes that needed an outlet. This was a spark really, not a raging flame, but it was something, and something that, until coming here, he never would have dreamed possible. Not for him. He'd resigned himself to that.
And yet, here was this hulk of a man, looking at him with those eyes and saying those words. Magnus was a moron. He was impulsive, nearly innocent in his simpleness...but he was gentle, caring, boisterous and loved a good time as much as Dorian did. It was a risk, certainly, full of danger, but Magnus had never once shown him anything but caring. Maybe...he could trust him.
He took a steadying breath before turning to him, brushing aside the hand resting on his shoulder and moving closer to him, seeking his lips again.
"I may be amenable, but I'd like to try that kiss again first."
Iona Lavellan | OTA
And meeting this Magnus of Dorian’s. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that there’s something there, and she knows Dorian. There’s something there.
She’d extended a rather impulsive invite to Brennan. She has no idea if he’ll actually join her, and while she wouldn’t mind his company she won’t be hurt if he doesn’t. She’s not sure he knows anyone that’s going to be there outside of her. Regardless she plans on not mentioning a word of the invitation she’d extended to Dorian. She’ll never hear the end of it.
Thanks to Dorian’s influence she’s adapted rather well to the differing style of dress found in the Quarantine, although she tends to keep touches of the familiar in what she wears. Dressed in shades of black and white with an omnipresent pair of fingerless gloves hiding the Anchor she perches on an out-of-the-way table in their reserved room, watching the goings-on thoughtfully, a class of wine held loosely in one hand.
no subject
By the time he gets a moment alone with Iona, they've already had some lovely chatter over Magnus learning the ins and outs of this unfamiliar deck of cards and the games that come with it. They're in the middle of a break when Magnus comments to her, "I gotta say, it's hella nice to be playing regular, non-video games. I really suck at those. Card games, though? I can learn card games."
...What he means by this is, he's glad to be playing games with people whose games are similar to his own.
no subject
She just doesn’t know what it is on Magnus’ part. Which is why she’s glad to finally find a moment alone with him. He’s involved with the man who is her brother in all but name. She’s finding out what his intentions are (and threatening him, probably. As is a sibling’s wont).
She has no bloody clue what, exactly, video games are, not in detail, although she has a slight idea, having been in the Quarantine for a bit, now, but she understands his point. “I don’t know,” she replies with a laugh, “there are probably card games somewhere that are frustratingly complicated.” Honestly she could see that being a thing with the Orlesians.