Alright, so Dorian wasn't sure at all if this was an improvement or not. In the "Improvement" column, he was no longer lost wandering in the woods by himself in the middle of Maker only knew where. On the other hand, he had no idea where he was, again, and had the distressing feeling he had, once again, been pulled to some other Void-blasted world by some other force that really needed to find a new damned hobby.
At least he had his staff this time, though looking around he felt a momentary pang that his cat Princess wasn't there. She really was never going to forgive him now. He hoped someone would take care of her, it wasn't the poor thing's fault that this kept happening to him.
He sat up, taking stock of his situation. The same clothes he had been wearing since that blasted light had taken him and Cullen to Imladris, his shoes much the worse for wear after all that walking, and his staff. At least he still had the makeshift pack strapped to his back with water, food, the books, and the now exceedingly useless map of Arda. He took in both the Tonberries and, when he was tempted to approach them, the very large knives they carried, and decided to leave well enough alone. Time to figure out what was going on here, and figure out who was in charge.
Which is how a very un-Dorian-looking Dorian ended up wandering the streets of Hadriel. He hadn't been able to cut his hair or properly shave in at least two weeks, and he felt absolutely filthy. He stopped, looking up at the roof high overhead, his brow creased in thought. Time to find someone who had any idea what was going on. Whatever happened to ridiculously powerful kidnappers being around to explain their plans anymore? It seemed like common courtesy.
He leaned on his staff for a moment, regarding a toppled over tower, though he turned to someone (you!) standing, or perhaps just walking nearby. His sigh is annoyed "One of these days I'm going to properly lecture whoever keeps doing this. It's extremely rude."
[OOC: Feel free to come up with your own prompt, I'll roll with either format]
Dorian Pavus | OTA
At least he had his staff this time, though looking around he felt a momentary pang that his cat Princess wasn't there. She really was never going to forgive him now. He hoped someone would take care of her, it wasn't the poor thing's fault that this kept happening to him.
He sat up, taking stock of his situation. The same clothes he had been wearing since that blasted light had taken him and Cullen to Imladris, his shoes much the worse for wear after all that walking, and his staff. At least he still had the makeshift pack strapped to his back with water, food, the books, and the now exceedingly useless map of Arda. He took in both the Tonberries and, when he was tempted to approach them, the very large knives they carried, and decided to leave well enough alone. Time to figure out what was going on here, and figure out who was in charge.
Which is how a very un-Dorian-looking Dorian ended up wandering the streets of Hadriel. He hadn't been able to cut his hair or properly shave in at least two weeks, and he felt absolutely filthy. He stopped, looking up at the roof high overhead, his brow creased in thought. Time to find someone who had any idea what was going on. Whatever happened to ridiculously powerful kidnappers being around to explain their plans anymore? It seemed like common courtesy.
He leaned on his staff for a moment, regarding a toppled over tower, though he turned to someone (you!) standing, or perhaps just walking nearby. His sigh is annoyed "One of these days I'm going to properly lecture whoever keeps doing this. It's extremely rude."
[OOC: Feel free to come up with your own prompt, I'll roll with either format]