[OPEN/EVENT] Wonder if those changes have left a scar on you;

[magisterium]

Who: Dorian Pavus & you!
Where: The bar.
When: 11/21, mid-afternoon until well past midnight.
Rating: R, potentially.
Summary: In failing to save the Herald of Andraste, Dorian feels he's responsible for dooming Thedas-- but the fact that Brennan's memories and his own now contradict has complicated things further.
The Story:

It doesn't matter to Dorian that none of the bar staff seems to be serving this afternoon-- he's enough of a regular that he feels perfectly comfortable helping himself, parking himself on a stool at the far end of the counter with an uncorked bottle of wine in front of him, already halfway empty with a second bottle on standby. He's certain he'll get through that bottle as well, and once he's done, he'll have very few qualms about helping himself to something more.

He's found occasion to drink most days since coming to Wonderland, and so his presence in the bar isn't unusual in and of itself-- but today he drinks with a single-minded determination, a desperate attempts to swallow down memories he'd rather forget, and to try to keep himself from losing his mind trying to reconcile why none of his memories seem to match up with Brennan's. It doesn't trouble him so much that Brennan doesn't remember what he does: Dorian could hardly expect him to do the impossible and remember anything beyond his own death. It seemed like it might be asking a bit much, considering he thought himself to be largely responsible. It was the fact that not only was Brennan here, but he remembered a friendship between the two of them that they'd never had the opportunity to build-- they had just barely met before Alexius had seen fit to remove the Herald of Andraste from time itself, and whatever that had meant for Brennan, it had also meant the end of Thedas as they knew it to be.

He exhales slowly, closing his eyes for a brief moment before seizing his wine glass and swiftly draining it of its contents, trying to banish the all-too-vivid images that thoughts of Corypheus' Thedas brought to mind. Memories that even months in Wonderland could never hope to banish, perhaps not even years. His conversation with Brennan himself had been puzzling, but he's determined not to retain the necessary coherency to try and examine those discrepancies further-- not today, at least, and he hopes the inevitable hangover will be enough to keep him from trying to solve the conundrum tomorrow, as well.

Unfortunately, it's a vain hope. No amount of alcohol has ever been enough to quiet his thoughts or drown his regrets, though he's tried time and time again. Regardless, he intends to try once more, even if it takes him until the pre-dawn hours. There's always a first time for everything.

Comments

[outofthebreach]

He can't sleep. He tried, but his bed now has the very distinct and familiar scents of exotic spices and something else he can't put his finger on. But it's definitely Dorian. On his pillow. And then he lays there wondering how many other nights Dorian might have spent in this bed that he can't remember now either.

Finally giving up with a sigh, he gets up and dresses again and goes in search of the man. Finally finding him in the bar, he approaches curiously and arches an eyebrow at the sight of what Dorian has already had... and what he still has left.

"Planning on working your way through Wonderland's stock in one night?"

[magisterium]

Dorian's expression is nothing short of grim as he glances upwards to meet Brennan's gaze, half-slumped against the counter with a nearly empty wine glass in one hand. Clearly, he's been here for quite some time, with no intention of heading back to his room anytime soon. Perhaps that was for the best-- going back only to find Brennan in his bed would have been cause for more panic, one more thing that didn't make sense.

"I like a challenge," the mage remarks, but there's no mirth to it, no teasing smile pulling at his lips. "If it happens to kill me, it won't last. Besides, I'm talking to a dead man. I'll need another bottle, at the very least."

[outofthebreach]

The light teasing falls away at the state Dorian's in, and the mood that's prevalent in that reply. Turning serious, he moves to slide into the stool next to the mage and reaches for the bottle in front of him, pouring himself a glass to join the man without bothering to wait for an invitation.

"You're wrong, you know."

[magisterium]

"Only on occasion," comes the immediate reply, though Dorian keeps his eyes forward, grimacing as he lifts his glass to his lips once more. The fact that they're in any position to have this conversation in the first place is more than he can handle at this moment. Perhaps in another glass or two, though he makes no guarantees.

"I know what I remember. I did not imagine the end of Thedas, nor my role in its fall."

[outofthebreach]

"No, I don't think 'imagining' is the right word for it," Brennan agrees as he settled comfortably beside the other man. "Just like I know I can remember staring at the Breach from my balcony in Ostwick and wondering if this really was the end of the world. Or the fact that I've never been to the Fade and never possessed the Inquisitor's ability to close the rifts."

He lays his left hand stop the bar, palm up to show the very real lack of Anchor there.

"But I think it's this place messing with us. Otherwise I have no explanation for this."

To prove the point he'd come here with, he slides his device across to Dorian, still open to the video feed Faith had found for him. An arrival message Brennan has no memory of, one made with Dorian at his side and an easy companionship between them.

[magisterium]

The Anchor is as absent as it had been when Brennan had shown him his hand over the network earlier in the day, though Dorian finds it no less baffling now than he had then. He frowns, dark eyebrows drawing downwards as he vainly struggles to comprehend exactly how this has come to bear, how his memories can possibly betray him, and yet Brennan lays it all out for him-- the only solution that makes sense, difficult as it is to accept.

"As explanations go, it seems a rather convenient one," Dorian confesses, hollow without quite managing to be skeptical. Convenient, yes, but considering where they were-- it was more than simply possible. Wonderland had a way of toying with people's memories, but Dorian had never experienced seeing them changed, only heard about them slowly being siphoned away. This was something different, though no less a violation if it was true.

His frown persists as he watches the video feed Brennan shows him, eyes widening slightly after a moment as he looks up.

"That's-- us."

He hardly recognizes himself. A Dorian who smiles and talks far too much-- a Dorian he's long forgotten.

[outofthebreach]

"It is," Brennan agrees gently, watching Dorian watch the video, watching him have the same startled reaction Brennan had had when Faith showed him. "Everyone I've talked to today has known certain things in common - I checked, once I picked up on the trend. I am the Inquisitor - which clearly contradicts my memories. We arrived here together - which clearly contradicts yours. And everyone had the very clear impression that you and I had arrived already lovers, something this place had done nothing to change. Which, I believe, soundly contradicts both of ours, since you seem to think I am dead and I don't remember ever meeting you before coming here. There's other messages from us - one or both of us - in the device, that we made together. messages we passed between one another. I can find them for you, if you'd like? I spent a while this afternoon looking for them."

[magisterium]

He watches the video intently for a few more moments, his eyebrows drawing downwards as he focuses, finding difficulty in processing what he's seeing. It challenges all that he remembers, a world too far gone to be saved, a world with no Inquisitor at all, and everything he remembers feels far too real for it to be a fabrication-- but he knows the games Wonderland likes to play, and if this is simply another of those, it's exceptionally cruel.

"You--"

He cuts himself off for a moment, frowning. He nods, just once; as much as he'd like to believe Brennan and this video alone, the harrowing world he remembers leaving behind has its claws in him too deep for it to be so simple.

"Yes. Show me, if you would."

[outofthebreach]

Brennan merely nods obediently and takes his phone back, pulling up the evidence he'd found earlier and showing Dorian each one, knowing how he felt. He'd spent half the day devouring everything he could find himself, confused and wistful for the person and connection he couldn't remember being, or having. He's admired Dorian since the day they both arrived here, but this...

He could see how easy it would be for him to fall head over heels for this man. No matter what either of them remembered.

[magisterium]

He watches the evidence go by intently; strings of messages passed back and forth, bits of conversation that had been recorded, voices that were unmistakably theirs, and yet he could remember none of it. It had escaped him, all of it, and yet here he was faced with irrefutable proof.

"These-- they're all real," he says after a few minutes, half-questioning, looking to Brennan for confirmation. "Memories can be faked, but all this-- it's too much. Who would go through all the effort?"

[outofthebreach]

"I think we can both agree that neither of us have much understanding for how this world's magics truly work," Brennan answers with one shoulder lifting in a brief shrug, a frown lingering on his lips. "But considering the knowledge each of us has completely contradicts the others, I think our only option might be to wait until whatever this is that Wonderland is trying to do sorts itself out in a few days. That's how long these incidents normally last, right? A few days?" That's what he'd been told, anyway.

"Besides," he adds after a moment. "That doesn't mean we don't still have the opportunity of now to get to know one another." Again.

[magisterium]

He nods, though there's something vague about it-- the device and its contents have reclaimed his attention for the time being; it's impossible not to be distracted when presented with so much that directly contradicts all he remembers. It's Brennan's addendum that gives him pause, and he turns to the other man once more, a slight frown pulling at the corners of his lips.

He supposes Brennan does have a point.

"You're quite right," he concedes wearily, offering a faint but genuinely hopeful smile. "We certainly do."

[outofthebreach]

Brennan offers him a warm smile that softens his expression all the way to his eyes as he gives a chuckle and a playful wink. "Alright then. Why don't I get us both another ale and you can tell me all about yourself. Deal?"

[magisterium]

"Deal," Dorian offers in reply, and he finds he doesn't even have it in him to correct Brennan and ask for wine instead-- if what he's seen and heard is true, if they really do know each other, then he supposes there's no use in hiding his fondness for southern ale from him. Fortunate, considering how very much he would like to be drunk at the moment. "Though you'll have to return the favor."

[outofthebreach]

"I imagine I can do that," Brennan answers as he moves to round behind the bar and find them something to drink. "Although I can't promise to be as interesting as yours was. Considering I never even left the Free Marches, I'm rather boring in comparison."

[magisterium]

"I am terribly fascinating," the mage assures him, and for half a moment he sounds a little more like his old self, some of that forced cheer returning to his voice before the smile flickers and fades from his lips. "But a title isn't what gives a person their worth. Whether or not you remember being the Herald of Andraste, that doesn't change who you are."

[outofthebreach]

"A different me might disagree with you most vehemently," Brennan chuckles as he comes back with a bottle of wine to share, sinking down beside the mage once more. "Honestly, I have a hard time believing that I could accomplish anything of the sort as the Inquisitor has. I wouldn't even know where to start. I'm not very good at living up to expectations, I'm afraid."

[magisterium]

"Perhaps a great deal of it was simply begin in the right place at the right time," Dorian remarks, though his tone remains cautious, tentative, making it clear that there's more to that thought. "But I don't believe that. I saw the way people followed you."

He saw the way they had mourned.

"You underestimate yourself. You inspired something." He pauses, just long enough to slide an empty glass towards Brennan, offering him the bottle that's been sitting open alongside his own a moment later. "Help yourself."

They may be here awhile, after all.