He meets his gaze with a perplexed look of his own, blinking. Dorian looks like himself, sounds like himself, is acting like himself, and doesn't have the creepy blank stare of any of the sex bots. It's not as though he can just ignore that very glaring inconsistency, though. Vistas of possibility yawn wide enough nearly to swallow him whole. He clamps down very firmly on that line of thinking.

"I'm not sure how well it will serve us to dwell, at least not right now. Not while we're trying to adjust to everything else. We can revisit the topic of differences down the line if you'd like. For now, I'm assuming you're the same man who cheated at chess with me and whose acerbic wit has been sorely lacking at Skyhold since you left." He's firm in this, decided. Short of growing another head, spouting tentacles, or declaring an undying hatred of bathing, Dorian will be hard pressed to convince him he's not the man he knew.

"Why don't we continue this conversation somewhere else?" The sounds of ecstatic screams from the machine booth and certain scents drifting through the recycled air are putting him off and making it harder to concentrate. "Do a little exploring around the neighborhood?"