video;

[stubble]

[ By now, Cullen has figured out the different settings on his phone. Not all of them, but the ones involved with making posts to the network. Thank the Maker for that, because trying to write messages on the bloody thing is a trial and sometimes he just doesn't have the patience for it.

He's sitting on the porch, mostly just his head and shoulders—the latter clad in a simple t-shirt—visible in the video. The bland side of his house makes up the background. Not visible is his mabari, sprawled out at his feet. ]

Pardon the intrusion—[ Using the phone is one thing. Network etiquette is still rather nebulous to him. ]—but I wondered if anyone might have some advice on where I might locate a proper job.

[ His relatively neutral expression dips into a disapproving frown. ]

My current duties are ridiculous and wholly unrelated to my talents. [ The frown smooths out. ] I was the general of a rather large army and have been a soldier for the majority of my life. As a child, I grew up on a small farm. I'm accustomed to being active and prefer it to more idle occupations.

[ He drums the fingers of his free hand against the arm of his chair. He has no idea the protocol for ending communications of this nature. ]

Thank you for your time.

[ Eh, that's good enough. ]

Comments

[stealwithit]

O... kay, so I'm guessing there was a lot of sitting around and looking pretty?

[ She does chuckle, though, because oh right. How could she forget. Of course Cullen wouldn't know what a movie is. ]

A movie is moving pictures, basically. They're videos, like what you're looking at right now, except they usually tell some sort of story. You should try going to see one, sometime!

[stubble]

[ Pup makes a noise that's far from anything remotely like a growl and his tail wags as though he couldn't possibly be happier than he is right now.

For his part, Cullen just smiles watching them. He knows how Dorian feels about dogs. Perhaps everyone in the Inquisition knows how he feels. And it's rather heartwarming to see him settling into a friendship like this with one. ]

He says that you don't have to pretend. He knows you aren't truly angry. But if you'd like, he can pay you more compliments. He's rather fond of your—

[ Cullen abruptly cuts off and flushes a bright red, before saying scandalized; ]

Pup!

[stubble]

I can't imagine why he wouldn't. He's one of the nobles of his people. The nobility is always sitting for pictures.

[ Paintings, rather, but he isn't aware of the difference. ]

[stubble]

[ He tries to envision what she's talking about, but the best he can come up with is: ]

Do you mean like the theater? Only instead of on a stage it's in a box-like thing?

[ This is mind-boggling. ]

Where are the performers? Elsewhere performing for an audience?

[curled]

[ Look. Dorian hadn't really experienced dogs until he came south. And when he did experience them, it was being attacked by packs of them. It's easy to not like them because of that! No one could blame him!!!

Whatever Dorian was going to say gets swallowed down at Cullen's small outburst. He drops his hand and looks to the little screen, already seeing Cullen's red face and the scandalized look on his face. He glances back to the dog once before turning to Cullen once again.

His tone is careful; ]

Fond of my what...?

[ Does he even want to know???? ]

[timecapture]

Good to know! I have a photography assignment for school, anyway.

[stubble]

[ The various versions of people they know and yet don't is strange and unusual to speak about. He had this same feeling talking to Marian Hawke. But he soldiers on with aplomb. ]

You are welcome to call me by my name. There is little sense in using my former title, especially here. And while I know I am not the man you know and that it no doubt makes all of this rather awkward, I am certainly willing to get to know you.

[ And wait, that term hipster is a word he's heard before. Here, though he's heard so many new words it takes him a moment to remember the definition. ]

You say you make tea for trend setters? [ That's his understanding of it, anyway. ] What of ordinary people who set no fashion standards?

[sidequestings]

[ he hesitates, head tilting faintly in thought, the flush fading. ] It is a little awkward, [ he admits, finally, with a small, apologetic smile. ] You're all-- That is, the-- the versions of you that I know.. you're all a little like clan. [ his lips quirk a little teasingly. ] If you don't mind hearing that from a heathen. [ the expression fades, then, the apology returning to his features. ] And who could easily bear it if their loved ones ceased to recognize them one day?

[ there's a pause after that, but a brief one, and he lifts a hand to wave his own comments away. ] It doesn't matter. I'm glad to get to know you again, and.. I'm very glad that you think the same. [ and that's that. on to easier subjects.

.. which earn a bright, startled laugh. ] I make tea for ordinary folk, too. It just seems as if all I get some days are very nosy people asking me about my vallaslin and.. organic farming and.. that sort of thing. My co-workers very derisively call them hipsters, so I take it to mean a negative thing.

[stubble]

[ Oh Maker, why is this happening right now? ]

It's, ah, that is—

[ Pup makes a few quiet barks and yaps. Cullen flushes a deeper red and shifts his attention away from Dorian. ]

I have done no such thing! And neither should you! That's terribly rude. I don't care if that's not how mabari do it, it's how humans do it and you're interacting with a human right now. Not a mabari.

[ Somewhat sheepishly, Cullen's gaze shifts slowly back to Dorian. ]

Pup ah, evidently has some personal space issues we're going to have to work on.

[stubble]

Would you like his, ah, I believe it is numbers? The ones you press to make the device contact his.

[timecapture]

If you're sure it's alright with him, I'd like that.

[stubble]

Oh, it's all right. Dorian loves demonstrating his magic.

[ He sends the number over. ]

[timecapture]

Thanks, Cullen! This assignment's gonna rock!

[curled]

[ This is... puzzling, at best. Dorian's attention shifts between dog and master with a mix of curiousness and amusement touching his features. Not that he's ever taken the time to imagine what animals must be thinking, but it must be quite the feat to commune directly to the point of clear embarrassment. Because that's what this is; Dorian can tell the difference between Cullen's getting red in the face with barely restrained anger and this bout of being flustered.

It's interesting, too.

Even more so when he hears that whatever the current subject is is how humans do "it" and not mabari. A strange assortment of images floats through Dorian's mind and he can't quite settle on where he should go. He clears his throat and rests his elbow against his knee then leans his chin into the cup of his hand. ]

Oh, I'm afraid I'm going to have to hear this.

[stubble]

You're very welcome. I wish you well with your project.

[stealwithit]

[ ... Close enough. ]

Something like that, yeah. The performers do their thing well in advance in front of these things called cameras--same thing that lets me see you and you see me even though we're not in the same place--and those record them for later viewing. Pretty neat stuff that gets way more detailed and complicated than what I'm saying, but yeah.

Anyway, the job they gave me was basically to keep an eye on people watching other people on the movie. So it got really old, really fast.

[stubble]

I shall endeavor to witness one of these movies. I believe I should like to see one.

[ And hopefully, he'll pick a good one, because if it's one he hates, he's never going to watch them again. ]

Though the duties you describe seem rather pointless. What purpose is there in watching people watch something else?

[stubble]

[ It must be something one cannot understand unless one is Dalish. To Cullen, the Inquisition had always seemed like the Order. Not as detrimental to one's sanity or as prone to abuses, but as a group of people one fought and ate and bled beside, a group one would die to protect, but group that was colleagues and potentially a number of friends more than it was family. Because it sounds as though Lavellan speaks of a family-like unit. He thinks perhaps it might have been nice for the Inquisition to seem thus to him and then he thinks of how much harder it would have been to leave it.

He doesn't mention any of that, however. Lavellan seems to want to change the subject, and really, Cullen can't blame him. He's happy to oblige. ]

Organic farming? [ Cullen echoes the phrase in confusion. ] I was unaware there was another sort. [ Though maybe the word means something different here. ] I am uncertain as to the connotation of the phrase hipster. I only heard it once.

Do you enjoy the duties you have here or would you prefer doing something else?

[stubble]

[ Maker take Pup anyway. He is in so much trouble. The image is rather tiny, and Cullen doesn't know how well dogs see, but he hopes he sees the stern, rebuking glare he sends him. Because Andraste help him, this is an awkward conversation.

Perhaps if he approaches it from a different angle...

Cullen clears his throat and then bravely sallies forth. ]

To mabari, it's customary to greet others by scenting the newcomer. Typically, ah, where the scent is strongest.

[ All of Cullen's upbringing rebels at this. This is not how one speaks to a member of the nobility. But Dorian is his friend more than he's a colleague or a magister. That counts for something. He can be less formal without reproach. ]

At the hindquarters.

[ Cullen looks a bit pained. This is where he's going to have to give up the valiant attempt to directly state that Pup's talking about sniffing his arse. He hurries ahead like maybe Dorian will forget what he's said if he just talks over himself. ]

That humans have no such method of greeting is strange to him. He doesn't know why we don't do the same.

video

[redigere]

...what kind of farm was it? If I may ask.

voice;

[hisheartsdesire]

Why? What sort of ridiculous employment did you wind up with?

[stubble]

A modest one. My parents grew crops enough for the household and to share with some of our neighbors. We had horses, some goats, and a number of chickens. Are you familiar with farming?

[stubble]

The sort for which I am entirely unsuited. I have genuine skills and this place has afforded me abilities I did not possess at home. I cannot imagine why else that is so but that I make use of them.

[redigere]

Oh no, I'm not at all. I've never been on one before. But I'm interested in hearing about them, or anything else about other people's worlds.

[timecapture]

I hope you settle in okay, too. Let me know if you need something, alright? Here's my number. I'll be glad to help.