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bakerstreet2015-02-05 11:05 am
onlycareaboutshipping) wrote in bakerstreet2015-02-05 11:05 am
On Your Doorstep
On Your Doorstep
They ended up on your doorstep, quite literally. Bloody, possibly. Bruised, most definitely, though the wounds may be mental. You probably don't know them from Adam, yet you couldn't find it in you to turn them away - whether they wanted you to or not. So you opened up your home, just for a little while.
But it's getting to be more than a little while. Both of you are finding a comfort zone, because you didn't simply open up your home. Admit it or don't, but you've opened up your heart all the same.
Their's is slowly following, if its reluctant at all.
1. Comment with your character, preferences, & what role you'd like to play.
2. Tag others.
3. Thread
no subject
Never let it be said I'm not a courteous thief. Or something to that effect.
[ He has to bite the cork out with the opposite side of his mouth, the normal side aching too fiercely for it. He'll likely owe the man for this later, which, while not ideal, isn't too hard considering the Inquisition's reach thus far. ]
Ah, manners. Dorian and while I'd say at your service, I think we both know that's not accurate in the slightest. [ he doesn't mention House Pavus, doesn't mention the Inquisition. It wouldn't do to get thrown out just yet, thank you. ]
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[Loras puts down the bowl on the table, tugging the chair directly in front of Dorian, dipping the cloth into the water before gesturing to Dorian, asking silently if he can start to clean him off.]
Well you might be in another state, but certainly not this one.
[Loras gives a tight, small smile.]
Loras of House Tyrell.
[Which means mostly nothing if this man isn't from Orlais. And if he is, well. There always have been dirty stories of how the youngest son of House Tyrell went from being the greatest warrior to a ghost. Of the bitter misanthrope.
Of course, truth has always been somewhere in between.]
no subject
[ Dorian eyes the water and cloth dubiously a moment, but doesn't argue. His hand is one swollen bruise right now, from where one of the men had stepped on it. Embarrassing, really. He fought his way out, of course, but still, it doesn't bode well that people would try an attack like that, so blatantly. ][ Not that he's thrilled, but it's true enough. Dorian grimaces as he offers the bloodied hand first, one of the nails split, scraped up on the palm with grit in it. ]
As part of my thanks, I'll do my best not to bleed all over everything and I won't even steal the silverware.
no subject
[Loras takes the hand in his calloused one, and starts to work it clean. He isn't the most gentle, but he doesn't attempt to hurt Dorian more than necessary. Picking out some pieces of grit, he shakes his head.]
I fear I don't have an salve, or potions. I don't...keep things as well stocked as I should, I suppose.
What did you do to annoy those men? They looked more than a bit put out.
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[ He's used to one of the others doing it anyway, when he's unable to so this isn't bad in the slightest. Dorian huffs out a laugh that's more exhausted than amused, and his eyes slide shut a moment. ]
I'll live. Wine and a few hours and I should be able enough to take care of most of this mess.
And I know someone who knows someone who they're not particularly fond of, or something like that. You know.
no subject
[Loras continues, watching the man's face while his eyes are closed, before focusing on the other hand.]
Such as it always is. Or they simply didn't like your face, or your accent, or something else that might annoy people, these days.
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[ Dorian grimaces at the water touching a deeper cut, but doesn't pull away. His fingers twitch a moment but that's all. ]
Everyone likes my face, as it is. It's a lovely face, I've a very good nose.
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[Loras may rub a bit harder at one of the cuts, on purpose then.]
Your nose doesn't look so 'good' right now.
Though I'm sure it will look as attractive as you say it is soon enough.
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[ And no, don't remind him. He sets the goblet down to touch at it, cringing faintly. Maker, he hopes it doesn't scar. ]
I can only hope. And I meant no offense.
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[He sighs, shaking his head.]
Good. As I didn't, either. And I should see to that nose, so you maintain your beauty for years to come.
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Dorian's lips purse into a thin line for a moment, and then he shifts back, doing as he's told. He dabs gently at the mess of it, summoning the last dredges of magic just to make sure it doesn't scar horribly, and then sinks back into the chair like all of his bones have vanished, exhausted. He tries for some sort of sarcasm but his words slur together, thick with the need to sleep. ]
Thankfully the unwashed masses will be able to live another day knowing it's unblemished.
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[Loras gently starts to clean the wound, touching with deft fingers to insure that the nose is not broken. He keeps his eyes on his task, not looking up at Dorian, exactly.]
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[ Dorian tilts his head a touch, making it easier to get it inspected. Maker, he hopes it's not broken, he happens to like his nose very much. ]
I'll be out of your hair in the morning and can pay you once I get back to my own place.
no subject
[Loras frowns slightly; it doesn't look broken, and after a bit more gentle touching, he puts a bandage over the cut, and pulls back.]
I don't need your money. And I think you are well off as you are going to be, until you can heal yourself.