Ivan must be drunker than he thought he was. He could have sworn he knew his way around Vivienne's parents' house, since she wanted to introduce him last week and showed him the place, but maybe they have a... secret... upstairs... bar? where Vivienne's room is supposed to be? And most certainly was last time he checked? He's never going to find the sweater she sent him up looking for here, anyway. Why is there a secret upstairs bar in Vivienne's parents' house?
It would almost certainly have returned the door to its customary state. However, while you are here with the door closed, time is paused in your worlds under most circumstances.
"...Time is paused? Then how did Miles and I get here?"
"Oh, I was holding the door because there's no pen signal in here if it's closed."
"Well, that's eminently sensible," says Miles. "Then again, why isn't there signal in here with the door closed? Surely the magic wormhole could accomplish such a thing if it tried."
Miles giggles. Stalas smiles, too, but it's the smile of someone who doesn't quite entirely get the joke.
Linya gets a densely texted napkin, which she unfolds and takes a picture of with her pen and reads through.
Ivan finishes his drink and sets down the glass. It vanishes.
"Very convenient, that," remarks Miles of the vanished glass. "What would you recommend to me, incidentally?"
Linya laughs again.
"Sure, I'll have a creative coffee. Might as well."
"I'll go ahead and accept my recommendation, too, why not."
She gets a rosy-colored lemonade with a lemon wedge and sugar around the lip of the glass. She sips.
...He is very pleased with his creative coffee.
Thank you, the bar napkins smugly.
"Do you have a name?"
Just "Bar". And I prefer female pronouns.
Stalas takes a break from his dinner long enough to say, "Do try to remember you're already married."
Miles gives him the evil eye. Stalas grins and goes back to his food.
Ivan laughs tipsily.
She asks the bar, "Are there more of me?"
Perhaps, but considerable amounts of subjective time erode my memories nearly as much as they might anyone else's. I would recognize more of you if they come in relatively soon, of course.
"Pity, I wanted to gather a small army of myselves."
"And do what," says Miles, "take over the galaxy?"
"Well, that would depend on whether any of me were interesting nonhuman species with magical powers or things like that. And whether they had more pressing issues than un-taken-over galaxies on their ends, too."
"Taking over the galaxy is generally considered a bad move," says Miles. "The galaxy tends to object."
"But Miles, there are large parts of the galaxy with nobody in them to object."
"I dunno," says Stalas. "How do you feel about coming with me back to Thedas and trying to get back to Orzammar in time to stop my brother assassinating my father?"
"...What?" says Miles, blinking.
"Oh, that's right, I didn't tell you that story."
"I actually have a small army," says Miles, "but we'd have an interesting time trying to file them all in through Vivienne Vorville's bedroom door."
"It has crossed my mind that I could try to buy this house to maintain access to the door, but they'd probably object to being unable to retrieve Vivienne's belongings and to the house being continuously occupied by me and people I know during the negotiation for it."