agogelogs | THE AMAZING BASE.

Entry tags:

THE AMAZING BASE.

WHO? Everybody!
WHAT? Welcome home, nerds.
WHEN? Outside time and space, in the aether between dimensions.
ANYTHING ELSE? There is also a fish. Please warn in subject lines for anything beyond physical violence and move to a personal journal if things go beyond PG-13.

MYSTERY FISH;

question the mystery fish

DEPARTING GALLIPOLI

The order comes the day after the Marie Antoinette sets sail:

PACK UP AND GET READY TO MOVE OUT. WE'VE DONE ALL WE CAN HERE.

DEPLOYMENT: BASE.

WE NEED TO RESTOCK. BE PREPARED FOR MORE TRANSFERS ON ARRIVAL.

STAY SAFE. TIME-STEP EXPECTED TO BEGIN WITHIN THE HOUR.

FOR THOSE OF YOU NEW TO COST: FIND A SECLUDED SPOT AND TRY NOT TO EAT ANYTHING BEFORE THE JUMP.

The Time-Step

The transfer begins like a vibrating heat on the collar bone, just a hum of sensation.

But the vibration spreads. Veteran COST soldiers often refer to this phenomenon as "the buzz". The feeling builds, not unlike standing near a great engine or the wind-rattled branches of a massive tree. There is a long moment of motion sickness and you can't be sure if the world is shaking you from the inside out or the outside in. It may be better to close your eyes against the growing nausea, as the world blurs out of focus.

A star shines in the distance. You may hear the faint rustling of leaves. Some swear they hear voices in this moment, indistinct words echoing off nothingness. Others say they feel a touch of the divine, that the eyes of the eternal look down upon you. Ancient bones rattle just out of earshot, cold and brittle and nothing more than the suggestion of sound. Or maybe it's only an illusion, brought on by the powerful technology grafted into your skin.

One thing is for sure: One moment you are here and the next you are not.

The shift takes you from whatever solitude you could find aboard the Marie Antoinette to the temperature-regulated hallway of what looks like a very poorly put together space station. Droids rush up and down the long hallway, fixing broken bits of machinery or just chattering with each other. A few crows sit on high ledges, looking down and watching. Someone mutters something about a centaur around the corner.

And you might just notice, provided you were in Gallipoli long enough to acquire stowaways, that the parasites lurking on your skin are mercifully gone.

For new arrivals who didn't experience Gallipoli: You, too, will appear in this long hallway, filled with droids and crows and humans (still filthy and clad in ANZAC uniforms, carrying battered equipment from the first World War). And you'll be wearing the minimal COST-issued athletic underwear and holding whatever one item you were allowed to bring. Surprise!

READ THE BASE INFOPAGE.

home away from home

Those who have been to BASE before may find a strangeness to it all: BASE seems...still. The windows show a verdant world instead of the usual aether (though with the typical paranoia), and the halls are bereft of all but a few crows. A man stands at the end of the long hallway you arrived in, waiting for you to get your bearings before he speaks.

Except, you know, he's not a man. He's a centaur.

"It's been barely a week since you left, by my reckoning. But for you, I'm sure, it's been much longer. Still, much has changed. You may have noticed we are...becalmed. This is due, it seems, to an error in our ways. We kept something that does not belong to us, several wild creatures that are meant to be free. They seem to have psychically called out to their home, and their home responded; we are now somewhat stranded.

"But let me explain—the Aether is the nexus between worlds and times, but it is not a dead thing. Creatures live in it. We have crashed onto the back of one such creature, a mighty beast, as large as a small country and entirely undiscovered. We have found why the creature has intercepted us: we have accidentally taken captive some of its children. Shapers, the wild creatures I mentioned, it seems they form a symbiotic bond with the creature, and live happily within its stomach."

He frowns, considering this.

"Shapers, I should mention, are creatures that briefly infested our fair BASE. The issue was dealt with, though we kept some for experimentation. The coelacanth took issue with this, it seems. It can speak, of course; we are stranded very near its head, and if you wish to ask it a question, I implore you to do so. The creature is older than creation—older than me—and only speaks once to any creature it encounters. It's said its wisdom brings kings to their knees."

His eyes crinkle in humor.

"My name is Chiron and I am the caretaker of this place, for those of you whom I have not had the pleasure of meeting. More importantly, I am a trainer and a teacher of some experience; if you wish training or schooling of any sort, do summon me. I will be happy to assist."

He's easy to contact, often found in the library, the training area, his capsule, or elsewhere in the station, attempting to fix what he understands and arguing with crows.

"We intended to spend this time exploring, for this is a rare opportunity to discover more of an entirely uncharted world. I hasten you to see if anything on the coelacanth can be of use, but be careful. Take only what you need, not what you may want. I intend to learn my lessons well; these creatures are not pets. Takes food, water, and any materials of use to us for our survival and perseverance, but no more. We task you with this: explore the coelacanth, and see what of it can be understood. Bring us back samples, but do try to interrupt the natural habitat as little as possible. We are guests here."

He bows and the action shows a slight limp in one of his back legs.

"I would join you, but I am far too old for such activities. Still, do pepper me with any questions you should encounter. I am always available on the network, or in person, within this hulking mass we call home."

And then he leaves you to find your capsules and rest.

CAPSULE ASSIGNMENTS

Once you've found your room and settled in—perhaps taken a shower, collected clothes, and eaten—a droid will approach you with camping equipment and give you a brief explanation of how to access and use the database. It's time to get your gear and go.

Of course, you can decline. You can stay and tend to the fort, maybe try and clean up this patchwork jumble of metal and machinery. But seeing the sights on the back of a giant fish flying through non-space? Who can say no to that?

the undiscovered country.

BASE's airlocks open into a lush valley, vibrant with color and rustling with life that has thrived on the coelacanth's back for millennia. It's a striking shift from the rot and gunfire of Gallipoli, unmarked by shrapnel, bombshells, and never-fresh air.

No, the air here is clean in a way that can leave you breathless, untouched by pollutants and stirred into a gentle breeze. It's a marked departure for anyone used to a more modern Earth or rough equivalent; letting the air sit on your tongue leaves a crisp, unsullied taste behind. And the whole forest feels alive, in a way that reminds you of how small you really are.

A white crow perches in a tree near BASE's exit, too high up to properly engage but a stark contrast to the bright leaves around her. She merely watches recruits come and go with a shrewd eye, feathers fluffed against the light chill. There are other crows scattered throughout the wilderness, some easier to find than others as they flit through the trees, sit on camping equipment, or hitch rides on the hoverbikes.

Besides those brief flashes of black feathers, however, you're left unsupervised.

Try not to fuck up anything too badly.

EXPLORE:INFOPAGE|DATABASE
talk to a fish | destruction report

NAV. NETWORK LOGS OOC MEMES PLURK

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Always good? How boring. [With the casual air about them John trusts that Dorian will take the words in the spirit that they are meant. He hasn't yet seen a hint of anything that would actually render Dorian boring.

From his seat on the floor John reaches between his legs and withdraws one of the many bottles stashed away. He holds it aloft with a slight shake to draw attention, indicating that he was far from 'concealing anything naughty.' When he unscrews the cap the scent of gin hits his nostrils and it's not long before the alcohol touches his lips.]

So what happens when we're sent on whatever mission COST has in store next? Will you be able to leave it at BASE?

[If where they go next was anything like Gallipoli there was likely very little chance for the hart's survival.]

I suppose that's what happens when you spend too much time around rule abiding soldiers. [Dorian offered a lamenting sigh that was meant to be entirely sarcastic, the truth was, Dorian had never been very good at doing what he was told.

As John presented one of his pilfered bottles Dorian grinned knowingly, but it still amuses him that the other man offered proof that there was hardly anything more naughty than bottle of booze under his bed. The mage had suspected this the whole time.]

In the event that we are thrust into shitier events than the one we were previously dragged out of? I cannot imagine why not, though if they order me to bring him? Well, they can stick their orders up their wits end, I'm not putting my life in danger.

[After all bringing an animal into that sort of situation was risky and if Dorian was too busy looking after it then he wouldn't be looking after himself.]

Good to know you have your priorities in order.

[And it is. If they're going to be in the same unit then John will not be dragged down by someone's pet. Breeding had fuck all to do with it. And to a lesser extent maybe it was alright if nothing happened to Dorian either. The man was admittedly good company and a fun conversationalist. One less interesting person around would make COST that much more dull in addition to its other challenges.

After taking another drink John weaves the bottle in front of his face, as if taunting Dorian that one of them is in possession of alcohol while the other is not.]

I'd offer you some but after you took full advantage of my generosity with the wine [they both know that's not exactly the truth] I'm afraid you'd drain me completely.

I like to place an emphasis on self-preservation. I am, after all, too pretty to die.

[To pretty to die in vain anyway, he would give his life for the right cause if it came down to it and he's been in plenty of dangerous situations and has suffered some tremendous injuries because of it. Thank the Maker for healing potions and spirit healers or else he'd be completely scarred and that would be a shame.

He knows a trap when he sees it however and John is bating him with that awful alcohol that he remembers only too well.]

Ah, my dear John, I forgot to mention that aside from the hart, the clothing, and the armor, I was gifted with bottles of fine wine and proper meals. [Or food that didn't have that synthetic flavor. Needless to say Dorian didn't look fussed in the least] If you feel put out I'd be gad to share a meal and one of those bottles with you.

[John lifts his eyebrows taking in this information. He'll have to look into gaining more supplies for himself, though more of the wine variety and less of the wild animal variety. Possibly his own clothes as well. John has never been very particular about how he dresses, but he's found that he misses the familiarity of the dress shirt and loose tie.

When information turns to offering John twists the cap of the bottle back in place, turning it over idly in his hands as if he hasn't already made up his mind.] I am a little put out. [The bottle is returned back under the bed and John rises, brushing his hands against the front of his shirt. He meanders slowly to the doorway leading away from his bedroom, standing in Dorian's space. It is still his own room after all.] Are you inviting me to your capsule, Dorian?

[Dorian's not so easily stifled by the invasion of his personal space, even though he wasn't drunk at the moment and he was reasonably certain John wasn't drunk either. It did seem to be a quirk of the man's character and the mage couldn't quite ascertain what it was about, but he was hardly rattled by it, more of an observation.]

I suppose that really depends [Dorian began, raising both hands, fingers smoothing along the collar of John's COST issued shirt, there are still fine wrinkles to smooth out, or maybe he's just playing the game] on whether or not you want what every man wants when they come to my quarters [his hands coast their way along resting lightly on John's shoulders] my wine [Dorian finishes with a hardy pat to both shoulders his hands were resting on] if that's the case then, yes, I am unreservedly inviting you to my capsule.

[Glancing down at John's feet the mage adds as an after thought.] Should probably wait for you to slip some shoes on first though.

[It's always a revelation when invading someone else's personal space. How they react says a significant amount not only themselves, but how they view an intrusion, and even more specifically, and intrusion by John himself. He likes to be able to read people and in the process of that reading press several buttons along the way.

The unexpected swerve of Dorian's words in accordance with his actions makes John exhale a laugh. He reaches up to the hands on his shoulders, curing his fingers around the wrists and looking at Dorian pointedly.]

Need I remind you, you also promised me food.

[The hands are carefully pried off his shoulders and returned to Dorian's sides before John retrieves his socks and boots. After slipping them onto his feet John once again crowds Dorian's space... right before slipping through the narrow opening in the doorway and heading toward the capsule's exit.]

You're going to have to lead the way you know.

[Dorian views space invasion in a few different ways: an opportunity to intimidate which he doesn't intimidate easily or an invitation to touch even though he's careful in navigating people when touching them. Just how hard are they yanking his chain and how hard should he yank back.

Dorian returned the pointed look with mock innocence, he was hardly an innocent man, he barely considered himself a nice man...well not always. Not admittedly.]

Of course, I haven't forgotten, I've a long memory John.

[Dorian leaned into the frame of the Door glancing around the room while his companion was busy with his shoes and socks. All of the capsules looked alike as did all of the rooms, Dorian's wasn't all that different...he would have to remedy that at his earliest opportunity.

When John was ready Dorian followed, but only as far as the exit, at the door he slipped by John into the hall.]

I'm quite good at leading the way. [It was a bit of a stroll, but it didn't take long to reach Dorian's capsule and what an obvious capsule it was with a Hart curled up on a pile of old linens to one side of the door. He had water, he had food (apparently that gelatinous pretender food was just as good for him even if it tasted just as synthetic...they were all suffering), when he needed was space and that was the challenging part. He'd been wandering up and down the halls, but he never went far.]

As you can see, I've a bit of a problem. [The Hart snorted as if he were disagreeing with Dorian, but the mage stepped past him into the capsule for now.]

[It didn't take long for Dorian's arrogance to show. It's almost charming the the way he sets himself up to be talented at pretty much everything, including something as simple as leading the way down the hall. John doesn't mind the walk, and in fact it feels good to be walking somewhere with a purpose instead of an aimless wandering.

Even he had been told of the hart it was still jarring to see the animal. It was just... there. Nesting. John attempts to give the hart a wide berth as he steps around it into the capsule's entrance, yet it's not wide enough as he can still feel the hart's gaze as he walks past. John's never been particularly adept at looking not-suspicious.

When he steps in to the capsule he notices that it appears exactly the same as his own, albeit with different belongings. Oh well, makes things easier to snoop through in the eventuality that he becomes curious later.

Now that he's inside John once again kicks off his shoes, immediately making himself at home.]

Now I believe you said something about wine.

[To be fair Dorian had a great many successes in his life, it's had an effect of his confidence and on how talented he perceives himself. Though there were also detriments to be had, being congratulated on skill and certain superficial things left very little room for Dorian to see or care about whether he had other attributes like bravery or kindness. It's not valued in his homeland and it's often a surprise when people point out traits to him instead of success.

Fortunately the Hart is a domesticated animal, used to humans, and while it might be tracking the newcomer it's primary interest seems to be personal comfort. He goes back to bunking down just as soon as Dorian and John are inside.]

You have no problem with escalation, do you? [Dorian laughs, more bemused than anything else, by John's impatience and his ability to make himself so at home so very quickly.] I would never rescind on a promise of wine.

[So he gestures to one of the bedrooms, his own presumably, it's tidy save for the armor sets placed on his bed, the rest of his clothing is neatly tucked away in their limited storage space. The only real oddity in the room and perhaps the most unnerving object as well it the staff in the corner crowned with a skull and radiating a strange glow about it. It was usually equipped with a blade, but Dorian had taken to carrying it around like a knife in their previous mission and had not replaced it.

The wine he kept locked in his trunk, he preferred red wine at room temperature, but he also didn't have the space to chill it with.] One bottle of wine...I believe I said something about food as well?

[When Dorian gestures to the bedroom John grins widely, exposing his teeth.] Cheeky devil.

[He gives the other man's shoulder a squeeze before walking briskly into the room. It was far more fun to explore someone's personal space than a shared area. Those places were more often than not sanitized to become more palatable to another's taste. John preferred to see someone's raw nature, particularly if it was one just as filled with blemish as his own.

He truly does have no problem with escalation as he immediately walks around the room, taking into account various belongings and the manner in which they are arranged.]

Both food and wine, yes.

[But the voice is distracted as John is drawn toward the glow. He can almost feel its energy, as if something in the room changes just by its presence.]

I know better than to touch a man's staff without his permission. May I?

[If Dorian minded Constantine exploring his room he wouldn't have invited him inside, well room as it was, there was very little room to these capsules and probably why there were so few personal touches. The only thing really left sitting out was a grooming kit and the staff John had taken an interest in, not everyone was curious about it, but most people were.

Not so much for the magical properties, not everyone had the head for magic, but it did have this unnerving effect that drew the majority of those curious about it. The skull, the metals, cloth, leather, and wood all had magical properties, but what gave it the unnatural glow was the rune attached to the uppermost part of the grip. Interested in how John would interact with it Dorian eased himself onto the edge of the bed, propping one foot up on the opposite knee.

Food and drink weren't going anywhere.]

I don't think anyone has ever asked so politely to touch my staff. [Dorian couldn't help himself, he enjoyed the innuendo.] How can I possibly say no?

[Dorian hums his approval, nodding for extra emphasis as if that would be the cue.]

[The glow is almost too much. John doesn't know if the strong urge to reach toward the thing comes from the staff itself or if it's his own internal impulse. Either way, John gives in and grabs with both hands. He holds the staff close to his chest, closing his eyes and breathing in. He can sense its energy as a conduit and an invisible crackle sends itself to John's shoulders through his fingertips. It's as if magic itself has declared the item's significance.

He has no desire to use the staff. Every magic user has their own abilities and methods. His are his own and so are Dorian's. But that doesn't stop John from wanting to hold the staff just a little longer as he looks to Dorian.]

Tell me about it. [One hand keeps a solid grip on the staff while the other runs fingertips along the length of the details.] When did you acquire this?

[Dorian did nothing to intervene, fascinated by how enraptured John was by the staff even though it was as mundane to Dorian as any weapon might be. Still, a passioned response to magic was better than fear as far as the mage was concerned, he'd seen what fear of magic had done to many mages just like himself...not that there wasn't cause to justify it of course. It was no reason to do to his kind what was done to his kind in many parts of his world.

When John voiced a desire to know more about the staff itself, Dorian levered himself onto his feet breaching the small space between himself and the other man so that he could observe from over his shoulder, he's not going to take it away of course, John's free to examine as much as he would like to...who is he to slam the door of curiosity in the face of another?]

Tempest. This is called the Tempest staff, a weapon for mages...this one was I procured from a place called the Western Approach in the Still Ruins. When my homeland still ruled most of Thedas they built the Ruins for magical experiments I presume. [Not all magical experiments go according to plan, however.] They wanted to tap into the power of the Fade, which is the source of magic in my world, it's also where we dream and where we go when we die...so the Chantry says. Anyway, their experiment ripped a hole in the fade and that allowed demons to pour through...they overran the ruins and in doing so a fail-safe was triggered. Tricksy bastards my ancestors were. This staff was the fail-safe, when demons started pouring through it froze time within the ruins...that is until we came along, plucked the staff out, killed all of the demons inside, and closed the breach.

[Dorian reached around John grabbing the staff with both hands positioned tangentially alongside John's own, not taking it from him of course, just holding it.] What do you feel?

[At first John doesn't register Dorian's approach, which is very unlike him. It's not until Dorian reaches for the staff that John fully registers the other man's presence. But being surrounded in this way only feels natural. He settles against Dorian's form, arm against arm on either side and relaxing his back into Dorian's front. Again John closes his eyes, this time parting his lips to more deeply breathe in the air around them.]

There's nothing like this where I'm from. You either have your abilities or you don't. I've acted as my own conduit before, jolting myself with electricity to bring a skill to light.

[His eyes open and he turns his head to Dorian, still fully enraptured by the staff.]

That's what this feels like now. Like I'm the point where lightning starts, the rumbling of a crack before the bolt strikes. I can feel the extinguishing of the demons, fire to ash.

[Dorian's not exactly sure what motivated him to...well he wasn't certain what this was, perhaps this was just the student in him becoming the teacher, or perhaps the idea of someone so taken by magic was just that endearing to him. He felt an impulse clicking like the cogs in a machine and had he been five years younger he wouldn't suppress those impulses. This was a learning moment for the both of them after all.]

Oh, the magical abilities are inherent, not just anyone can pick up a staff and be a mage...the staff merely draws from you, amplifies what you have, gives it distance and precision...there's a...mathematical formula to certain magics. I have some on my arm in fact.

[Granted he's only talking now as a distraction from the proximity, but it's no lie, Dorian is just the sort of nerd that would tattoo himself with magical mathematical equations that would make very little sense to anyone but himself. To most people it was simply geometric designs, but they had meaning.]

It could be drawing that feeling from you, I'm half tempted to let you push it...except we're in a static cage and while electric fingers can be fun...standing in a ring of lightening just for curiosity's sake would be a bit dangerous. [Not that he's going to tell John to let go any time soon, that would mean letting John go, wouldn't it? Instead he nudged John's hand up a few inches until his palm was hovering over a spherical object embedded into the staff.] A rune...that's a spirit rune, it's designed to increase damage inflicted on demons and similar creatures like darkspawn.

[Dorian is curious in the way John seems to be engaging with the staff, there might be parts of the staff that call out to John the most and the spirit rune was a powerful magical element.]

[John does his best to hang on to every word. What he knows of magic is largely self taught. While John has never thought of himself as a scholar, he has diligently learned everything he could in relation to the occult since he was 15. Not a day goes by that he doesn't practice or strive to learn something new. Even so, this is a lot of information at once about a world and practices with which he isn't familiar. He might have to come back to this another day and ask Dorian further questions.

The closeness doesn't help with his ability to concentrate either. Not that he's complaining. He's grateful for the nudge, not only for the touch itself but for the direction.]

Good thing that demons are my specialty.

[The flippant words turn to a gasp as he touches the rune. It's as if suddenly feeling the energy of every demon he's sent back to hell over the years in one sharp rush and he's forced to look forward. His eyes open wide to reveal only white as John grips the staff firmly.]

Disperges in ventum.

[The portion of the spell comes low in his throat. There's no demons to banish so the spell is useless, but that doesn't been nothing has happened. The staff has found someone else with a gift, someone with experience. John blinks and his eyes return to their natural brown. He wonders if something like this would have any effect at home. Perhaps the larger demons could be more easily held at bay and trapped. It was worth considering.

John glances down to Dorian's arm alongside his own.]

I'd like to see that formula sometime.

[In contrast Dorian manifested his magic at an early age, earlier than most of his peers which had been a point of pride for his parents who were quick to send him to study in various magical Circles. Various circles because Dorian not only had a flair for magic, but he also had a gift for getting kicked out of even the most prestigious schools and he cut through tutors like a knife through butter. Dorian was a terrible student, but not a terrible scholar, just bored, by and large...and stifled by a system he didn't particularly like. Though it had to be said that earlier it was due to arrogance, most of the children he went to school with were notably older than he was and he was better than they were...and often liked to prove it.

He also had his own set of issues that made him very difficult in his earlier years and even now made him difficult as far as his family was concerned.]

In my experience demons and magic tend to go hand-in-hand, it's the primary reason why mages are feared in many parts of Thedas.

[Granted it is a lot to absorb so that's a discussion best tabled for another conversation, for now he was just observing reactions. John seemed seasoned in his own way, but there was a curious inexperience in him that came with being self-taught. Many experienced mages who were self-taught tended to have bits in their style that clunk, but without magical training it was difficult to see the parts that actually did that. There was something very intriguing about witnessing raw magical talent, or Hedge mages, not that he was sure if he could ascribe the term to John.

John was a bit different, Dorian was referencing the man to what he knew about magic and his magic seemed to translate at least in some form, but he couldn't treat the man as if he were like mages back home, not completely. John would probably hate it if he were a mage in Thedas. Instead he focused on reactions, on John's reaction to touching the rune, his eyes...is it an episode...memories? Dorian was here and if things went too far he would protect John, not overwhelm him...still his concern wasn't completely swept until John returned to normal and that...spell was it...banished whatever moment his companion was under.

But that spell.]

Disperse into the wind? [Latin was Tevene in his world, but not all Tevene was Latin, the fact that it came out of the mouth of someone who was not (as far as he knew) was an interesting surprise. One that inspired many questions, but he could stifle them easily enough, for now he opened up his stance letting John lean against him heavily if needed, Dorian is sturdier than he pretends to be.]

Anytime. [Why not, Dorian isn't hoarding his magic, magic is made to serve after all. Still there are other things to take into consideration, things that draw the mage's concern.] Are you alright? It sounded like you were trying to banish something...the rune. Hm...I wonder if it's just the rune, every piece of this staff is made up of something that has magical properties...that looked like some sort of connection.

[Maybe he was sensing the properties, reacting to it, who knows...but curious as Dorian might be he's not about to treat someone like an experiment.]

If you need to take a break? [It was John's choice.]

[John does take the opportunity to lean back against Dorian. It shouldn't be a problem as he is noticeably slighter in frame, but that consideration doesn't even enter his mind as he drops his weight. He hadn't felt this exhilarated by magic in a long time and though John's body looks physically worn, his face is bright with possibility.

The Latin does admittedly require some explanation.]

What you heard, that incantation was a fraction of a demon banishing spell I use. A portion in the middle. I'm not some kind of amateur like that but it felt like I was... dropped into a moment. [It sounds stupid to say it out loud.] It was as if being transported to somewhere I've been before, only a thousand times over.

[He drops his head heavily onto Dorian's shoulder, looking up at him with a wide grin.]

I'm alright. But I think it's safe to say that I could use that wine right about now.

[Fortunately Dorian is able to support the weight of an injured fully grown man and since John wasn't injured it was even less taxing. At least he seemed vitalized in spite of appearing somewhat benumbed, he idly wondered if John could also benefit from lyrium. That was the funny thing about magic and spell casting, simple spells Dorian could do all day, especially when a Staff was designed around a certain element...this one had spirit and cold elements about it that meant he could use winter and spirit branches of magic without exhaustion all day. Depending on the spell. More complicated spells required a cool down period and taxing ones required lyrium if he wanted a quick bounce back.

Unfortunately he had no lyrium potions on him or no way to make lyrium potions at the moment so there was nothing for it in practice, only in theory.]

Hm...well that's not completely unexpected given the purpose of the staff as a tool used to lock an entire event into a moment. Reliving it multiple times? Those demons must have been stuck in their moment for hundreds of years. [So, no, it didn't sound at all stupid to Dorian.] It might also have something to do with your particular brand of magic as well, you are really making a connection, serah.

[At John's confession Dorian just laughed throatily, carefully walking the both of them back to the bed so he could ease the man down and free up his hands enough to grab the wine. Whether he wants to hang on to the staff is up to John, Dorian isn't particularly possessive of magical objects, mostly because he likes the acceptance of magic.]

Bottle or glass?

[John allows himself to be guided. He's not any kind of invalid, but leaning against Dorian does admittedly help to steady his step. Once seated John reaches to the side to carefully rest the staff against the wall. It's not like him to be respectful of other people's things, but he has an interest in keeping this one intact.

At Dorian's declaration that John was making a connection John smiles toothily with triumph. He doesn't need the validation, and in fact considers himself very knowledgeable in what he does. But here after joining COST, there are so many people from different worlds that it would be a shame not to glean some knowledge from them. Maybe he was a magpie of magic after all, but that is what, in John's opinion, made him effective. And while he doesn't need that validation, it's always nice to have a stroke to the ego.

As Dorian fetches the wine, John makes himself comfortable on the bed. He pushes himself back to sit with back flat against the wall and he stretches his legs across the horizontal width.]

Bottle. Let no one here say that I'm a gentleman. Anything anyone tells you to the contrary is an utter lie.

[Not that his staff would be a tool easily broken, but all the same he appreciates the interest enabling John's respect of this piece of Dorian's property. Not that there is much in the way of stuff that can actually be damaged in this room that leaves Dorian with something less to be concerned about given that most of the stuff he did keep would be dangerous to destroy...well, where he was from anyway.

Taking John's request to heart Dorian conjures up two bottles of wine instead of one, it will set him back a few bottles, but occasions do call for more than one bottle of fine wine and he's certain John could drink an entire bottle on his own, call it a hunch, but their time spent together on the boat was a good indicator of the man's drinking habits. Those habits either matched or exceeded Dorian's own and Dorian was quite the drunkard.

Along with two bottles Dorian withdrew the blade normally affixed to his staff so that he could re-purpose it into a sort of cork saber. It was no cork screw, but it did the job and Dorian doubted very much that he would have any need of the corks, certain the wine in both bottles would be finished before this was all over.]

To being ill-bred plebeians then. I don't trust a gentleman anyway...all that niceness, it gets a bit too...nice [Dorian passes John the first opened bottle before prying the cork out of his and taking a deep drought]...before you know it all that niceness melts into something else...pious bastards.

[John takes the wine in hand easily. Giving them both a bottle was by far the most practical option, if indulging in their mutual alcohol habit could be considered practical. He delivers Dorian an eyebrow raise and nod of approval at the improvisational use of the knife. It's something that John would have done, and he appreciates an out of the box thinker.

He lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a long swig. The action is not meant to taste anything, just to ingest as much as possible as quickly as possible. When he lowers the bottle John keeps it close in hand rather than set it aside.]

Well you're in luck considering I've never thought of you as particularly nice. But I don't know if I would consider you an ill-bred plebeian either. I assume all the presentation [John circles his hand around his own face to indicate Dorian's personal grooming. ] isn't an accident.

[Dorian settles himself perpendicular to John since the man has occupied the bed horizontally, of course that also means he's throwing his legs over his bedmate's as well just to stretch them out given that they are both respectably tall and Dorian himself is respectably leggy.

Enabling one another might not be considered practical to most, but when it comes to dealing with problems getting drunk and fast is often the best method there is when it comes to coping. It may also be the quickest way to engaging in stupid activities, but that was also part of the charm.]

Mm...depends on who you ask...this [Dorian mimics the gesture around his own face] is probably symptomatic of my upbringing and yes, I was fat with it. Strict nannies, expensive education in prestigious Circles of Magi...found myself kicked out of every single one, ah...the scion of House Pavus, a product of generations of careful breeding, and the repository of its hopes and dreams. Marvelous! The grooming habits are one of he few things I didn't despise growing up.

[And Dorian punctuates that statement by throwing his own bottle back and drinking deeply.]

For what it's worth, you wear that grooming handsomely. Not that you didn't already know that. [John shrugs, taking another drink as he settles under the weight and subsequent body heat of Dorian's legs. He turns his head to regard his companion.] I hope you gave everyone directing you hell.

[For the briefest of moments John imagines a child with a fully grown mustache running away from his handlers. The thought is so absurd that he's able to push it out of his mind quickly.]

I'm certain you can tell by my significant lack of both manners and hygiene that I had nothing like that growing up. Or ever. Didn't stop me from my own expulsions though.

[He gestures toward Dorian with the bottle.]

Restrictions are a look best not pulled off by anyone in this room.

THE AMAZING BASE.

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YOU DON'T HAVE TO REPLY I'M JUST BUTTONING UP THE THREAD A LIL MORE SOLIDLY