[He's used to moving quickly, quietly, but Ashur doesn't want to startle Dorian or act like he's breaking into his home, so he allows himself to be heard outside, his fingers curled in a defensive spell, as if this is all some sort of elaborate trap. Of course, it's Dorian and he trusts Dorian, insomuch as he can trust anyone else, but someone in his position can never be too careful.
But Dorian's voice echoes from inside and so Ashur wipes his feet as requested and steps in through the balcony. His shoulders don't ease their tension until he sees the man himself, sipping wine by the fire, and he allows the magic to fall away from his grasp.]
Dorian.
[Ashur isn't exactly dressed for a tryst himself, but he has taken some of Dorian's fashion advice to heart - he's abandoned the overlarge coat in favor of something a bit more form fitting: a light black jacket with a bit of fancy golden threaded embroidery. The hat is gone too and like this, he almost seems a bit more human, a bit more like every other man one might see on the street, were it not for the heavy black veil that still covers most of his face, obscuring him from the bridge of his nose downward.
He isn't here to be The Viper and wouldn't want to be seen near this place as the masked vigilante - but that doesn't exactly mean he can be here as any of his other identities either. For now, he can just be the person whom Dorian knows in the Dragons, and that will have to be enough.
Slowly, Ashur removes the bag from his shoulder and allows it to rest on the chair across from Dorian rather than sitting himself. He tugs out a small wooden box from it, setting it carefully on the desk. Inside is one of the many books he had teased Dorian with, inexplicably old and fragile inside of its velvet case.]
This is what I have on wild magic, [he explains, not exactly easing into the mood quite yet - though his eyes flit over Dorian's dressing gown, his face, with no shortage of appreciation. Instead, this feels a little transactional, but... well, he did offer.]
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But Dorian's voice echoes from inside and so Ashur wipes his feet as requested and steps in through the balcony. His shoulders don't ease their tension until he sees the man himself, sipping wine by the fire, and he allows the magic to fall away from his grasp.]
Dorian.
[Ashur isn't exactly dressed for a tryst himself, but he has taken some of Dorian's fashion advice to heart - he's abandoned the overlarge coat in favor of something a bit more form fitting: a light black jacket with a bit of fancy golden threaded embroidery. The hat is gone too and like this, he almost seems a bit more human, a bit more like every other man one might see on the street, were it not for the heavy black veil that still covers most of his face, obscuring him from the bridge of his nose downward.
He isn't here to be The Viper and wouldn't want to be seen near this place as the masked vigilante - but that doesn't exactly mean he can be here as any of his other identities either. For now, he can just be the person whom Dorian knows in the Dragons, and that will have to be enough.
Slowly, Ashur removes the bag from his shoulder and allows it to rest on the chair across from Dorian rather than sitting himself. He tugs out a small wooden box from it, setting it carefully on the desk. Inside is one of the many books he had teased Dorian with, inexplicably old and fragile inside of its velvet case.]
This is what I have on wild magic, [he explains, not exactly easing into the mood quite yet - though his eyes flit over Dorian's dressing gown, his face, with no shortage of appreciation. Instead, this feels a little transactional, but... well, he did offer.]
Am I late?