SEPTEMBER TEST DRIVE

[thespaceopera]

THE FALL TEST DRIVE MEME
(Or Spring Test Drive for you Southern Hemisphere folks!)

Got someone you want to try out before you app? Well this is the post for it! Feel free to use anything that fits in the setting of Drift Fleet! Want to play bumper shuttles? Want to go wild in a med bay? Play around with the current plot? Have at it!

Threads from the Test-Drive may be made game "canon" but DO NOT count toward AC!

FOR NEW PLAYERS: You DO NOT NEED an invite to participate in the TEST DRIVE! If you decide to APP into the game, ONLY THEN will you need an invite from a current player!

Helpful Info for Ideas!:

September's Star System

Game Details

Test drives are posted SEASONALLY, so the next one will be in December!

Comments

[trudge]

I did.

[ There's no denying that much. But there's something about hearing it from someone close to him, someone he cares about, that really weighs heavy on his heart. When he made the decision to die that night, he had thought it wouldn't be so big a deal. People would be sad, but his friends were strong, they would move on, they would be happy without him. ]

I don't know. I just... showed up here a few days ago alive and well; as if nothing had happened. Atroma or whoever brought us here has a fucked up sense of humor, but hey, maybe I should be thanking them for the second chance.

[crowkiller]

[Zevran isn't exactly sure how to feel about this. About any of what Rowan just said. He just started to think that this place might but real, but now it seems like just a dream. He half expects Taliesin or Rinna to appear now, or the Archdemon itself. That would truly make this a nightmare.

His eyes narrow for a moment. He wouldn't need a second chance if he allowed someone else to take the final blow-- but Zevran didn't speak his feelings. He pushes them back down like any good assassin and just stands by the bar to pour himself another drink.

Everything is fine.]

It's difficult to morn someone who isn't dead, you know this right?

[It isn't that he isn't glad to see Rowan. Even if this is some fucked up dream his mind is fabricating to allow him to cope. He's just frustrated. He hates this, he hates that all he can see when he looks at him is the blood on his face or the fire that engulfed him.]

[trudge]

[ Rowan's first instinct is to continue making jokes, to try and lighten mood and make the air around them less tense. But it's hard when Zevran looks at him like, says things like that, and looks suddenly determined to start drinking heavily.

His shoulders tense as he shifts uncomfortably on his heels. They never had such serious talks before — and even when they did, there was always a lightness in the air, a sense of shared understanding. Now, it feels like there's a wall between them, and what should be a happy meeting is suddenly more somber than he hoped for. ]

Would you prefer I go back to being dead? I personally wasn't a huge fan.

[crowkiller]

No.

[He says that rather quickly. He knows he is acting like a brat. Whatever sick trick is being played on them isn't Rowan's fault. It isn't his fault that he can not find peace at the Maker's side, or that Zevran will not know peace with all the unsaid words inside him.

His eyes flicker from the glass to the handsome face before him. He tries not to think of unpleasant things and instead focuses on others. Like the last time they kissed, held each other, and the feeling the now raises in his chest the longer he thinks of it. It's a much more pleasant feeling.]

I apologize, my warden. A lot has happened in very little time.

[trudge]

[ He's right, it isn't his fault. But you know what is? His decision to die killing the Archdemon. He could have done Morrigan's ritual and saved his allies and friends the grief of having to find his corpse, burn him, and mourn like Zevran was apparently trying to. But at the time he had so many reasons not to go through with it — too many risks, the chance it might not work at all, and the biggest one being he just didn't think he had anything left to do in Thedas. He didn't think it would hurt anyone so badly. He didn't think.

He never did. ]

I should be the one apologizing. [ He says with a sigh, closing his eyes as he leans against the bar. Rowan starts to fidget, a hand running through his hair just so he has something to do. ] You have every right to be upset, Zevran. But I'd much prefer that you weren't — because for whatever it is worth, we're here now. Maybe we can make it count for something.

[ A beat, he smiles lightly. ] Or you could punch me in the face. Would that make you feel better?

[crowkiller]

[Zevran is silence for a moment as he just processes everything. He leans his body against the bar, close enough to Rowan where he can feel his body heat. A ghost can not do that, a dream cannot feel so real. Its a strange and comforting thing. At least he isn't completely crazy. Whatever is going on, what powers were either causing them to suffer or truly were giving them again chance that those unspoken things, what Rowan said was right.

This was their second wind. He can't help but smile at that last part. His eyes move upwards as he pouts his lips just slightly, as if he were seriously considering that.]

I may take that offer, but later. That handsome face has already been through enough.

[trudge]

[ This is better. This is familiar. Rowan instinctively leans in closer so their shoulders bump together, his eyes glancing once around the bar and then back to the elf beside him. It's nice to have a familiar face with him in this strange realm of ships and space and alternate universes. Something warm welcoming to ground him and keep him sane. A good reason to come back from the dead.

Rowan laughs and this time it sounds like a true, hearty laugh of amusement. ] Thank the Maker for small mercies. [ He waves his hand to motion for a drink while the other starts to sliiiide around Zevran's shoulders. Testing the waters. ] Just warn me before you do it, so I don't bite my tongue or something.

[crowkiller]

If we didn't have those, we wouldn't see any mercy.

[The smile tugs at his lips. It isn't a hoax this time. It's the first real smile he's had since the battle began. It feels good on his lips as the warmth grows between them. And then the hand comes around his shoulder. Just like old times.]

I can't promise it won't be a quick warning. At least 3 seconds.

[His own arm comes to Rowan's waist. It would seem the waters are safe.]

[trudge]

Three seconds is all I need. [ There's a bad innuendo in there somewhere. Rowan leans over and gently noses against the top of Zevran's head, letting the familiar scent of him fill his senses. They've always been like this — two idiot rogues with no regard for personal space. And now Rowan is glad for it, glad for the familiarity in the gesture. ]

So, when did you get here?

[crowkiller]

That quick? [He smirks as his hand gives his hip a gentle squeeze.

Zevran enjoys the small gestures and the physical comfort of familiarity. He didn't think that he would experience this again with him. If this is a dream, he doesn't want to wake up, and if this is real then maybe he should start going to the Chantry more often. If they even had one here.]

Just arrived, and you?

[trudge]

You know damn well I'm not that quick. [ He says with a laugh, fingers gently massaging into Zevran's shoulder. ]

A few days. Found another Cousland who is apparently me in a different universe or something, along with a few others from Thedas. Could have been worse.

[crowkiller]

[A soft hum of approval leaves Zevran's throat when he feels those fingers against him. He is surprised with how quickly his attitude changed. This man is a menace.]

Do I? That battle was so traumatic, I don't recall.

[He cant even keep a straight face as he says that. But his grin falters just slightly as Rowan talks more of these odd things.]

While I can think of a thing or two to use your double with, the world doesn't need a second Rowan Cousland.

[it might shatter honestly.]

[trudge]

I could always attempt to spark your memory. [ Rowan is simple minded at times — he doesn't like being sad, nor does he like seeing his loved ones sad; so he does his best to make sure that they're not. The easiest way? Pretending that everything is okay. Hoping that one day everything truly will be. ]

Thankfully, there is only one Rowan Cousland. There is, however, a Riona Cousland as well. In an alternate world I'm a lovely woman. [ He pauses, then smirks. ] Makes sense. I can't imagine I'd be anything but lovely no matter what sex I am.

[crowkiller]

I wouldn't be against that.

[Pretending everything is fine it much better than actually dealing with emotions and feelings of dread. Honestly he would rather go back and fight the archdemon than go down that route. His body leans against him, his head tilting to rest on his shoulder. This is nice, even if his chest still feels uncomfortably tight.]

I have to keep an eye out for her. Does that mean there is another me? [weird.]

[trudge]

I bet there are rooms here we could make good use of. [ Rowan finally gets his drink and takes a long hard swig of it, offering the other half to Zevran. Don't ask what it is. He probably doesn't even know but it tastes like piss and reminds him of home. With his other hand he gently cards his fingers through Zevran's hair, idly undoing one of the braids he usually wears. Oops, how did that happen? ]

Huh. Maybe. She said most events played out the same, save for a few key differences. [ Like him being dead and a man instead of alive and a woman. ] Could always ask if you see her.

[crowkiller]

You say that like you don't know yet.

[Zevran teases as he turns in his arm to face Rowan and takes his drink. It burns when he takes a drink, but not exactly in the same way as his first drink of whatever that was. This one isn't as smooth, and very much tastes like something Oghren would enjoy. It makes him a little homesick.]

Don't tell me you haven't taken advantage of your new life.

[He would have thought so. He knew he would have at least. His eyes close for a moment, a little longer than a standard blink when he feels those fingers through his hair. For the first time since the battle his mind doesn't wander to blazing fires or screaming people, instead it reminds him of the muffled sounds of crickets, cool nights, and the warmth of a campfire.

It's a good change. He doesn't even mind it when he fucks his hair up. He remembered how annoying that use to be. The hand on Rowan's hip pulls him closer.]

I may. I have to see exactly how you two are alike.

[trudge]

I'll be honest, I haven't. This is the first chance I've had to relax since I was brought here, believe it or not. A Grey Warden's job is never done, even in space.

[ He twists just so he can face him properly, his hand still idly running through the elf's hair as he twines the golden strands around his fingers. It doesn't take much to have him inching closer with that tug, nearly chest to chest. ]

You're not thinking of replacing your favorite Warden with a pretty lady version, are you? I'd be devastated.

[crowkiller]

I am shocked.

[He cracks a smile, teeth showing through his lips as he chuckles.]

Work, work, work. Is there no end? There can't possibily be Darkspawn in space.

[Right???????

It's when he asks that last question that a look of mocking thought comes across Zevran's face. He sets the glass on the bar counter as he rubs his chin in thought.]

Depends on if she is a better listener than you, my Warden.

[trudge]

No Darkspawn that I know of yet. [ Yet being the keyword here. ] But that doesn't mean it isn't dangerous. There are plenty of odd things around here that need to be dealt with. And who better than me?

[ Probably a lot of other people??? Irrelevant though. Rowan snorts. ]

If I had to wager a bet, I'd say she might be. You know I have selective hearing. [ Which is so not true, no matter how much he pretends it is. ]

[crowkiller]

[Well, he can breath easy for the moment then. Zevran feels like he is equip to handle anything after all that they have been through.]

Of course. I'm not sure how they handled anything without you here.

[Can you hear his sarcasm?]

You may need to make sure your listening ears are turned on then.

[Both hands go to Rowan's hips now, giving him a playful squeeze as he smiles. He's kidding. Or is he? (He is.)]

[trudge]

Nor am I. Good thing I showed up when I did.

[ What is sarcasm? He has no idea and certainly isn't using it now.

Rowan sighs the (clearly fake) sigh of an overly-burdened man tasked with another horrible thing he needs to do. ]

For you? I suppose I can try. [ He always listens, Zevran. Do you remember those boots? Remember the boots. Rowan reaches up with both hands to cup the elf's cheeks, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. ]

[crowkiller]

Honestly, you should let someone else have a turn at saving the world.

[His voice gets lower as Rowan leans closer. This man, he didn't understand how he felt so empty without him. It was as if a piece of him had been ripped away the the rest of him threaten to tear apart with each breath he took. Now that he was back, now that Zevran was here with him, he knew he was whole again. For now, and until Rowan or whatever Maker resides in this place, he would stay by him. And he wouldn't let go.

His heart flutters behind his ribs as he feels warm lips against his. He still isn't exactly sure where he and Rowan stand on what they are. If anyone asked then they were just friends who slept with each other. And kissed. And held hands from time to time. And brought gifts for each other. He remembered every gift Rowan had given him. The boots, the gloves, his friendship, and freedom. He knows this man listens well, except when things get complicated. Like when someone tells him not to die, or even feelings or involved, but Zevran never wants to talk about those either.

He happily leans into him, giving into the kiss that warms him from the inside.]

[trudge]

[ His only response is a noncommittal chuckle that vibrates against Zevran's lips. He's probably right — Rowan could toss the reigns to someone else, let them deal with all of the troubles that will most definitely crop up during their travels in space. But they both know that Rowan does not sit idly by and let others do the work. He is a fighter, a man who apparently will not rest even in death so long as there are monsters to be fought and lives to be saved. On the outside he seems so simple, with a one-track mind anyone could follow, but he is — and Zevran knows, he has to know — so much more than that. He's a man who loves more deeply than he should, a man who would die to protect those he cared about while thinking that they would not mourn him.

He doesn't know where they stand either. Complicated is a good word for it. They can figure it out later, when he has time to spare and isn't just hungry for the press of a familiar body against his own. It feels like it's been ages since they kissed — too sweet to be just friends-with-benefits, too passionate — and, despite it not being so long at all, Rowan has missed him. He misses all of his companions, but he missed Zevran the most. Zevran always understood him, always eased the tension and frustration and misery with jokes and dry humor Rowan fully understood.

Rowan pulls back, lingering too long. He reaches down to grab Zevran's hand. ] Let's go upstairs. We don't need to give these people a show - not for free, anyway.