maskormenacelogs | Brave face talk so lightly...

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Brave face talk so lightly...

WHO: Poe Dameron, Dorian Pavus, and Maxwell Trevelyan. Then Max and Poe.
WHERE: Nonah #5
WHEN: Day orrr two after Dorian arrives?
WHAT: Maxwell hasn't been the most forthcoming to Dorian about all the differences between their alternate timelines. Poe helpfully gets him up to speed in the only way Poe knows how. Later, Poe and Max have a chat about what the fuck just happened.
WARNINGS: Cursing probably? Will update if necessary.

Maxwell had decided it might be for the best. And not just for himself, though that was selfishly, part of it. He did truly believe the knowledge might be more of a burden than the honesty would be worth.

How could you tell a stranger they were supposed to love you?

How was that stranger supposed to move forward with that?

So he'd kept the truth about his relationship with the other Dorian to himself, even as he'd sensed Dorian suspected there was more he wasn't sharing. Even after they'd parted ways and Maxwell had spent the following night tossing and turning with the weight of it. Even when he'd texted Dorian to see how he was settling in and couldn't stop himself from inviting the man over.

He could live with it, he told himself, Dorian shouldn't have to.

He would have to learn how to hide it better. Compose himself more.

And that, it turned out, was what kept him when Dorian arrived. He was so busy trying to think nothing, feel nothing, that he heard nothing too, and it was someone else that greeted Dorian at the door.

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Maxwell watched the emotion play over Dorian's face, glad to be able to bring him some comfort, and then sad that it couldn't be enough. That he couldn't guarantee that it would come to pass in the same way. All he could offer was what he already had.

That and understanding.

Tipping his head and pulling a considering expression, he teased mildly, "Considering that it's Varric...." his mouth twitched and he raised his glass slightly in a joking toast, "Good luck with that."

Taking a drink of his wine, he used the mouthful to take a moment to consider Dorian's offer - to swallow back the easy flirting that came unbidden to the tip of his tongue. It wasn't an encouraging sign for his goal of moving on,... but it was still early wasn't it? Who could expect him to put everything that had been aside so quickly?

Dorian would be alone here, if he couldn't get his act together. He had to at least give it an honest effort.

"That's me," he finally joked, offering a light smile. "Your captive audience." He shifted slightly and pulled his communicator free from his back pocket. "You know where to find me now, and there's these--" he gave the device a little side-to-side shake, "whenever you feel the need, just let me know."

That felt fair, letting Dorian decide. He couldn't be tempted, if it weren't up to him.

This is a bad idea. You know this is a bad idea. You should stop before the both of you get hurt. You possibly literally. But Dorian didn't want to stop. This felt... it felt so nice, so right. He'd been so lonely for so long and Maxwell was right there, easy to talk to, easy to flirt with, already treading semi-familiar water.

He opened his mouth to make the easy joke, because really Max, if you are wanting to make it easy for him not to flirt, that is not the way to do it, but then thought better of it. Instead he chuckled. "Yes, well I'm still getting used to those things. They're fascinating, even though I'm quite sure I'm going to send the wrong thing or not even send anything at all. Am I to take this to mean you don't appreciate unexpected guests? I realize that my presence is a gift, but some people do need time to prepare." Was he going to be a nuisance? Did Maxwell have someone? He didn't think so, but then again the subject had never come up. He at least knew for sure that he wasn't with Poe (not that he would blame him, defensiveness and terribly choice in sleepwear aside he was spectacularly good looking at the least) because he was quite sure the man would have specified that as a reason for Dorian to keep his distance.

He can't help a grin, his face all the more handsome for the simple warmth it.

"Just be careful when someone here uses a term or phrase you don't immediately understand, it could be bait to get you to look it up on your own." He shakes his head, easy with his own foolishness. "I have been gotten so many times by my own curiosity...."

Then, just as helpless to stop it, he laughed, that rich, full sound of a true laugh so rarely heard since he'd arrived, and before he could stop himself - feeling the words than he even thought them--

"I'm not sure anyone can ever really be prepared for all that is Dorian Pavus. All that wit, charm, and talent in so humble a package, it's devast--" There was a sudden noise, a tell-tale thump, and he looked up, away from Dorian, and in that heartbeat his brain was able to catch up with what he was saying. He clears his throat, looking back. "How can you blame anyone," he finishes, a bit lamely.

That thump was the sound of BB-8 rolling along down the stairs behind Poe, who had appeared right in time for the words 'can ever really be prepared'.

On one hand, the sound of Maxwell's warm laugh did actually make him feel a little less uneasy about everything, but on the other hand--

That was some of the most blatant flirting he had heard in a while.

"I'm sure someone is able to resist it," Poe said, the irony a little thick on his tongue. He was freshly showered and dressed, no longer on the pyjamas that had brought him so much judgement, but now in a slightly asymmetrical pale top, tight black skinny jeans and a leather jacket with the rebellion symbol from his home hand-stitched into the shoulder. If looks could kill, he would that much closer to a murder.

He gave Dorian a tight smile, with sharp edges around his eyes that clearly read 'what the fuck are you doing', but as soon as Maxwell looked his way the expression instantly faded into something more sarcastic and friendly.

Well, that killed the mood quite effectively, thanks Poe. This was not his fault, alright well not entirely. For the most part. He hadn't started it. So the look in his eyes wasn't terribly cowed because what was he supposed to do? Tell Maxwell to stop? Not flirt back? He realized that Poe didn't know him, but really that was ridiculous.

"Well of course they are, we can't have the entire world falling in love with me. Think of the consequences. They are few and far between though." He took a long sip of his wine. "Would you like another glass, Poe?" So it wasn't really his wine to be offering, but he also didn't want Poe to think that he was resenting him defending his friend. Even if a small part of him did, and that same part realized that even if he were to try and hold back he was going to get all the blame if anything happened with Maxwell. At least as far as Poe was concerned, being privy to only half the story, and a story that this Dorian hadn't been involved in.

Maxwell glanced between the men, gaze lingering a moment on Poe's face having caught only the slightest movement of his expression and uncertain what he'd missed. His brow twitched, slight confusion, but he moved on, carrying with the carefully polite conversation.

"Plenty enough for one more," he said, reaching for Poe's glass from before, ready to pour.

A small, selfish part of him was sad to see the moment come to end, but the wiser, painfully cynical part of him knew it was for the best and even hoped Poe's presence would help remind him of that fact.

"And we've got snacks."

Later, after he gets to know Dorian a bit, he might start to suspect there was more to the story than what Maxwell had told him. But Maxwell was his friend, and Poe took protecting his fiends as a solemn duty, even from handsome, witty, moustachioed men.

"Sure, it's my day off. Why not." BB-8 whistled something behind him as they both moved into the kitchen to join them. To the droid, he said: "I'm aware of my alcohol intake, buddy, don't worry."

To the men, he said, "You guys have plans for today? Or was this just a friendly visit."

Aka, what did you do, Maxwell, and just how far did you do it?

While Dorian did appreciate Poe's desire to protect his friend, it was also very frustrating as Dorian hadn't done anything wrong and wasn't sure what precisely his other self had done either. He really did want the whole story, but he wasn't sure how or when he was going to get that. For now he felt like he was stumbling around in a dark dungeon with only half the torches lit.

"Maxwell sent me a message earlier, asking how I was doing. One thing led to another and he invited me over to chat for a bit. I'm afraid my writing on these little devices still leaves much to be desired." See Poe? It wasn't his fault at all that he was even over here. He didn't want to break Maxwell's heart, Maker knew that he didn't, but he also felt that staying away when the man wanted him over there would be just as bad, if not worse.

Maxwell's uncertainty grew. Poe sounded just accusatory enough to touch the guilt balled inside him. How, now, did he admit he probably shouldn't have invited Dorian over without making the man feel like he'd did something wrong?

It wasn't Dorian's fault he was a weak and lonely man.

"I just wanted to see if he was settling in well," he said, pouring Poe's wine a bit too carefully. "This place can be a lot for the first while." He finishes and pushes the glass toward Poe, smiling, though the light it had brought to his eyes before was gone now. "I suppose I should have waited, before getting worried." He offered Dorian a slight look. "A man exploding candles isn't one to be trifled with, after all."

"You're both from a place without any kind of tech this way, right? Makes sense that it might take a little while to get used to."

He wasn't trying to be nearly as accusatory as he came off, and the way that Maxwell's eyes had faded tipped him off that maybe he was stepping in it, a bit. So. Course change.

Which wasn't hard, because Maxwell said something very weird.

"Wait. Exploding candles?"

"Absolutely nothing like this. Any messages we wanted to sent have to use some kind of physical messenger. This" he waved at the device that was sitting on the counter "I can't even say that it's magic. I know magic. I study magic back home. This is beyond that."

Dorian did something very rare at the mention of the exploding candles. "Well. Yes. It wasn't as though I meant to. I'm getting better at not making them explode." The goal was to be able to either light or explode them as he wanted to. Instead of just whenever the Maker willed it.

"Other people," Maxwell explains, leaning back on his stool, looking up at Poe. "Or for greater distances or a degree of speed, ravens."

At Dorian's assurances of his skill, Maxwell looked back at him, the corner of his mouth pulling. The Dorian he knew, even if he wasn't.

"I don't know, could be useful in a pinch," he offered gently. Then he folded his arms, sitting up straighter. "Though, speaking of that, I know someone here who also practices magic. It's not the same method exactly, but similar enough that I recognized it. If you'd like, I could see if he'd be amenable to a chat - talk technique? Maybe he can help."

"Yes, I'm well aware of the sort of situations where it would be useful. It's more about regaining the control I've taken for granted than that I don't want to make things blow up." He sighed "All of my spells are like that right now. Or at least, all of the ones I've been able to test." He glanced over at Poe, he wasn't about to start going into his necromantic spells, lots of people got downright squeamish about them. Something about ghosts and the spirits of the dead made people uneasy.

"Really?" He perked up at that though. "I'd like that yes, I spoke to... what was her name, Galla, over the network. But her magic works differently from mine and in the end our conversation was more academically interesting than practically useful."

"You'll get there," Maxwell replied, with complete faith. "If you're anything like the man I know, you're one of the most accomplished mages I've ever met. If anyone can make it work, it'll be you."

And maybe Solas and Vivienne. But this wasn't about them. This was about Dorian, here, in front of him, frustrated.

"His name is Finn. He's an elf, actually, from a world not entirely dislike ours." A beat, where he looked at Dorian thoughtfully, picturing the meeting in his head based off how his interactions with the dragonborn had gone. "I think you'll like him."

He reached for his communicator. "I'll give him your information, and let him know you'd be interested in meeting."

Edited 2018-02-16 21:27 (UTC)

His ears pricked at the name 'Finn', but then he looked very confused at the word 'elf', and then realised that Maxwell meant someone else entirely. Oh.

"We don't have magic at all, where I'm from, so I'm of absolutely no help. You're right, though. The communicators aren't magic. They're tech. Same as BB-8." He didn't even think of the Jedi, when he said they had no magic, because he simply didn't see them that way.

"I uh... know another magic user, though. Who can also explode things."

"I would say stop flattering me, except it's entirely true. So please do continue for as long as you'd like." Dorian did love praise, especially when it was sincere. There was absolutely nothing wrong with sincere flattery.

Dorian almost opened his mouth to say that Poe was more than welcome to sit there and be decorative, but thought better of it when the man had already threatened to punch him once today. "Well at least I'll know who to ask for help when I get too confused." This probably would not happen, as that would mean that Dorian would have to admit to not being good at something.

"Oh? Do they do it on purpose, or do they mean to?" It was a very important distinction after all. And if they exploded things on accident, or had started out having a hard time controlling their magic then he would very much like to talk to them.

Poe tried not to roll his eyes at the flirting. He tried, really, really, really hard. He failed, but he hoped he at least failed while neither of them were looking.

"Both, I think," he replied to the question. "I met him when he accidentally blew something up and made his window explode. But he's got a bunch of magic he can do, so, I can introduce you like. He's even made me magic objects before."

A half second later, he frowned. "Ah. But he's, uh, away, at the moment. On his own television show. He's generous almost to a fault, though, so I'm sure he'd be happy to help."

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Brave face talk so lightly...

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