fairynuff | TEST DRIVE #6

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TEST DRIVE #6

TEST DRIVE MEME

Considering apping to EACHDRAIDH? Why not give the setting a test run here!

OPTIONAL SCENARIOS

01. ARRIVING IN THE DRABWURLD.
The Seelie and Unseelie courts welcome you with mirthful revelry and hearty food. After you have been briefed on your purpose here, you will find an endless feast and a night filled with entertainment to placate your concerns. Mingle with new arrivals, sneak down the castle halls and make sure your eyes are always on your glass; fairies and imps have no bias when it comes to tricks!

02. THE STATION.
Looking for a little slice of home? The Station gives you all that and more. Take advantage of the wifi, have a cup of fairy-brewed coffee (the one they didn't spit in) or sit back and relax on the patio. You can even move your things into one of the available rooms!

03. WILDCARD.
Your own scenario! Explore the Drabwurld or simply take advantage of your Locket!

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[ Solas, more than being frustrated or afraid, is mildly curious about the situation he has found himself in. While he had a duty to attend to at home (and he did, frustratingly enough, and it was souring him more than just a little to be standing here when there were more important matters at hand) he couldn't deny his curiosity. This was not the Fade, after all, nothing like what he had seen so long before or the memories that skirted his sleep, and he couldn't place what was so unsettling about it.

He walks out to look at the ground and it is then, only then, that he sees her. His head turns to look at her and he's struck, lost, for a moment, out of his element and looking a little like a halla in the headlights. It would be easier, he thinks, for them both, if she did not see him - but she is far too clever for that and he would not deny her the credit she deserves. He walks forward and, with as much casual amusement as he can force into his words, he speaks. ]

You are off on another adventure already, lethallan.

[ Of all the people she expected to see here, to even approach her, it is not Solas. She does not think less of him for being among the Unseelie - she is here as well, after all - but she is more surprised that Solas, calm and kind and academic, would be here in the darkness of the courtyard, and would seem so casual about it.

Then again, did she expect him to be frightened or worried? It wouldn't become him.

Nasrin offers him a smile, still, as she turns to greet him. ]

I am. I don't think I can stay around the court for so long, not with so many strangers.

[ Perhaps she seems weak or afraid. But she longs to see this world, to know its secrets, to learn and to explore. Her smile broadens slightly, though its crease is gentle. ]

It's good to finally see another familiar face.

[ Her reaction is - unexpected and pauses, frowning as his eyes rake over her. It isn't what he had imagined when he would see her again, even in a place like this, and he frowns, turning to let his gaze settle on her properly. She is standing before him as familiar as she has ever been and, yet, there is something different about her. Perhaps it is the fact she is not attempting to roast him where he stands - that would have been a cause for concern, certainly.

Still, all he can do is nod his head, offering her that familiar smile that he's sure she can recall. ]

No. It is not the most comfortable of places.

[ It seems dark and dour compared to Skyhold and he shakes his head. He would return home, if he could, but to leave her here... It seems far too cruel, even for him. ]

I admit that I'm glad to see you, too. I was - worried.

[ That makes him turn away; he may have admitted too much. ]

[ If Solas is at ease, then so is she, but she is not so foolish as to believe something is not unsettling him. Still, she believes it is the court itself; chaos, not order, though she can agree with some of their tenants (change is good, glamour is free) and understands why she is here...even if she does not agree with the choice. ]

There is...something here. Or, perhaps, it's the lack thereof.

[ Her frown is thoughtful rather than worried, but there is concern written in the set of her jaw and the furrow of her brow. ]

There is no Fade here, though I can still access my magic from what I can understand. It simply feels odd.

[ Unnatural might be the better word. But Solas would know more than she, and he would have answers and insight where she is only questioning. Her eyes wander to his face and she is surprised to see some flicker of emotion she has not seen before.

She reaches out for his arm. ]

Solas.

[ Nasrin chews briefly at the corner of her lip and she steps to the side, hoping he will look at her. ]

I'm here and safe. You don't need to worry any longer.

[ And she will admit there is a fondness in how she says it that is reflective in her voice, something she will not keep under wraps. What is friendship or care if it cannot be expressed? ]

[ He knows her better than to imagine that she will simply be comfortable here; he can see it in the way she stands, the way she frowns, her unease written across her face as soundly as -- her face. It's when he looks at her properly, when her hand reaches out to touch his arm, that his eyes finally land on her and look at her properly. What strikes him most, what hits him, much like a slap on the face, is the markings on her face, the flickering of a tattoo that he had seen disappear under his own fingertips.

Her Vallaslin. It remains. He wants to reach out and touch her, but he dares not; what if this is all some dream that this place has thrown at him, disguised as a demon? He would notice, but the imps he had met were nothing that he had seen before in his time - it stands to reason that the magic itself would be different too. He stares at her for a fashion, unsure, careful, before he swallows and forces himself to stand tall, to watch her. ]

No. I cannot touch the Fade either; it is cut off from us. Things here are going to be quite different.

[ And then she continues and he is drawn closer to her, wanting to reach out and touch, to draw her close. I'm safe, she says, as though that is all he needs to calm his racing mind. Perhaps it is, because his hand reaches to cover hers on his arm, drawing it away and letting his fingertips hold onto hers for as long as he dares. If she has her tattoo still then there is something truly amiss, something he must test. He leans closer, lip quirking. ]

Am I supposed to fear for your life? I think if anyone were capable of protecting themselves, ma vhenan, it would be you.

[ He drops the word in casually, waiting, wondering to see how she will react. If he is right then he will have to make his leaving swift; if he is wrong then he is preparing himself for a world of a thousand more mistakes. ]

[ So she is not the only one. It is a small comfort, but one nonetheless; since receiving the Anchor, she has feared for her capabilities, from having too much power in an ability she cannot control to losing her magic entirely...but at least she knows that it is this world and not herself, and she is free to continue to explore and adapt to this realm. She has little else she can do here. Their war is one she does not want to fight in, though she knows she must, or else she risks dooming Thedas. All of them do. ]

I suppose it would be wrong of me to say I look forward to the challenge.

[ It's an optimistic view of the situation, she knows, but she will fight and strive to better herself and adapt to this new world. She will need every ability she has, ever spell she has learned, whether she is to fight their war or simply survive.

And she will do it on her terms. Vivienne had it right: she would decide her own fate.

Nasrin looks up at Solas as he leans closer, and if she is surprised that he has made the choice to close some of the distance between them, it does not show. She does not seem put off by him at all, fingertips curling in his. Her smile, when she finds it, is tender. ]

But you admitted you were worried.

[ And it is here that she takes his hand and steps closer, just one step. Her expression is nothing short of fond, though there is mirth in her eyes. ]

If we're being truthful, I was hoping they would not have brought you here. I suppose it makes me selfish, then, that I'm glad to have you at my side, vhenan.

[ The lack of Fade is concerning to him, all things considered. He knows that this world cannot be Thedas, there is no way for it to be so, and yet he still yearns for the familiar pull, the knowledge that there is a chance for him to undo everything that he had realised was so wrong such a long time before. He needs to go back, to find a new means of freeing the Pantheon, to repair the thing he had done so very foolishly -- but he is trapped. He does not think this place has an easy escape.

It seems he is trapped once more, only this time there is no Darkpawn magister breathing down his neck, misusing the tool he had given him. ]

I would expect nothing less from you. You have always risen to each challenge the duty of Inquisitor has given you.

[ Her optimism is as refreshing as ever and it's hard to tear himself away from it. She is so close and even through the markings on her face he can see her, the beautiful woman he had fallen so desperately in love with. She is the bright light in the mire of the dank court and he wants nothing more than to drink her in - for all his cowardice in the Fade, when he had taken her vallaslin the first time, he could have her now. In another world, another life, he had said, and here they are. It's as though the Gods he didn't believe in were trying to give him a gift.

He would laugh if he were able.

Instead, he does little more than let his fingers trace hers, careful and sure, and he lets himself relish having her so close. The time between the Temple and their final fight with Corpheyus had been torture, knowing how she felt in his arms and how her kiss tasted on his lips, but he had survived. Dare he indulge here, when he is still so uncertain? ]

I did, but worry and fearing for your survival are two different things.

[ Let her take that however she pleases; was he worried he would be here alone, worried what this place might do to her, worried for her fate? Does it matter? He leans closer, expression carefully tender. ]

If there was a way to keep you from harm I would do it, vhenan, though I think you might protest. [ There, his lips quirk into a smile. ] If you are selfish then I do not dare think of what word would suit me.

[ She takes the compliment for what it is, and is proud enough to accept it and not deny that she has done her best. But there is a small smile at the corner of her mouth when she admits, truthfully: ]

I've always had support from the people around me.

[ Solas' knowledge and tutelage, Leliana's guidance, Cassandra's drive, Bull's strength and conviction, Cole's kindness. Every one of them has changed her. Solas once said that Corypheus had changed the Inquisition and her in one fell blow. But she knows, truthfully, that the Inquisition and its people have changed her, have given her freedom and support when she had none, and allowed her to look at the world with new eyes and an open heart.

As much as it pains her to admit, what she experienced with her clan pales in comparison. She thinks Solas would revel in that truth, if she were to say it, but she does not. Not at this juncture.

But it's strange, here, to see Solas toeing some invisible line between them, as if he cannot decide what he wants. Or is he testing her, seeing her set the boundary between them? Nasrin watches him, curious, and she huffs out a breath of a laugh. ]

Do you think that poorly of yourself, Solas?

[ It's a quiet bit of teasing, more of a true question than a jab, and she sobers somewhat before she speaks again. ]

I think there's something to be said for an apostate who remains to help the people who would see him captured or even executed. You risked yourself for the Inquisition, for the breach. [ For her. Watching over her, studying the mark, even as it began to kill her. ] That isn't selfishness. That, to me, is dedication. And I admire you for it.

[ It is not entirely selfless, she knows. But it is intelligent, it is honest, and it is generous. She knows of very few others who would stay from the beginning, who would see his task through. Carefully, Nasrin takes his other hand and holds it, so that they may now face each other, so she might look into his face, into his smile and his eyes, and bask in his warmth and presence. ]

I'm not worried about the danger. Whatever comes, I will face it. And I want to face it with you.

[ He nods his head, once, accepting and understanding her words even as a smile curls on his lips. She has never been overly proud or boastful about who she is and he can appreciate that; she is quiet, tender, and he adores her for it. ]

But you garnered that support. We do not follow you simply for your title, Lavellan.

[ Indeed, half of them care very little for the foundation of the Inqusition at all. He, himself, doesn't put much stock in the idea of a Chantry run organisation finding it's own wings, as pleasurable as that might sound, and he knows that others share his views. They are all here, united, because they have faith in her. Or, rather, they had faith in her. He had followed her to the pits of Corpheyus' plots and had come away with nothing but failure to poison his mind. Even now, as he stands before he, all he can think about is his own failure flickering before he successes.

He would not dismiss these thoughts even if he had the power to. They keep him in chest.

But, still, she continues, her eyes roaming his features, and there is nothing he can do save let her look. She has not been turned away from his embrace, not yet, and she still feels the call of their hearts. Is it so cruel for him to enjoy a little of her love before he is forced to bear his shame once more? She does not know the future as he does - quite literally this time - and he wishes to indulge. He had done so on so many occasions before; why not now, again?

Coward, his mind hisses. ]

I don't recall saying anything of the sort.

[ He shakes his head, frowning as she continues. Dedication, she says, unselfish. If she knew the real reason he had been at the Breach, the real reason he had stayed for so long (beyond the call of his heart that he had so easily offered to her, only to break them both once the time had come) she would not be so kind, he is sure of that. Instead, all he can do is offer her a wan smile, one that he's sure she is familiar with; it's the smile of a man that knows more than he will say. ]

You flatter me, vhenan. [ Which is a dismissal of her words, of course. She thinks him so selfless, so giving, that he didn't stay out of obligation or duty as others had. She knows nothing of the Orb, of why he sought it, of Mythal and his role. If she did she would not be touching him with such tenderness now, her hands holding his as they stand together -- and it would be so easy, he thinks, to lean in and steal a kiss from her. She obviously does not mind showing their companionship to the rest of the world (has she ever?) ]

You are optimistic. [ Solas slightly approves. ] I do not think there is much we cannot do together. You are more than you could possibly know.

[ She laughs a little at that, mostly at herself. ]

I should hope not. The Inquisition is only as strong as the people within it, not who leads it. We went weeks - months - without an Inquisitor, after all.

[ No, she hopes that they have stayed because they believe in fixing the world, in setting things right, and she wishes selfishly that they stay to be with her, to remain friends. The time to face Corypheus draws near enough - without Orlais, without his foothold in the Arbor Wilds, surely he is lost - and she hopes that when the dust settles, they are left with enough of Thedas to secure and build up again, and she will be happiest to do so in the company of friends and companions who mean so much to her.

And Solas, who stands out amongst them, who makes her chest tighten and who gives her hope and knowledge beyond all bearing; Solas who has opened her eyes and given her the confidence to walk in dreams and to see what rests just beyond her grasp. She cannot be grateful enough for his presence at her side, for his tenderness, for the connection they share.

She tilts her head slightly, fixing him with a long look. ]

No, you didn't. But you talk about me and say nothing of yourself.

[ Nasrin uses the grip on his hands to take one step closer, near enough that they are mere inches apart. She tests boundaries, as she did on the balcony, as she did in the Fade, but she will never act without his consent and approval. When she lifts her eyes to meet his face, it is with a smile, because his words mean more to her than he may believe.

She's close enough now, nearly ready to bridge the gap and to kiss him, regardless of who may see them, when she pauses. ]

Then come with me. [ There is a brighter light in her eyes now with some of her burdens as Inquisitor lifted from her shoulders, however temporary. ] There is so much in this world and we can explore it together. We can understand and learn from it, Solas.

[ If she only knew how close this mirrors something she will say only days from now back in Skyhold, beneath the starlit sky in Crestwood, hand in hand with him. ]

I fear that you were always our Inquisitor, Lavellan. We were simply waiting for you to take the mantle. The title of Herald was nothing more than a prelude to your story.

[ He had asked her, once, what kind of hero she intended to be and they had gazed out at the landscape together; he had seen her perform great things, do incredible things, the type of acts that would be written in stories and passed down to be believed as myth in a thousand years time (and, oh, he knew far too much about how stories could be ruined by mythology). He had seen her rise up to a challenge she had never intended to take and he was fascinated by it, by her. She had changed his entire world.

It makes their situation all the more painful.

He knows he should turn from her, he should shrug his shoulders and take a step back, but it is impossible. His cowardice twists at the base of his spine and he can do little more than let his eyes close, to enjoy how close she is and how real she feels, her skin touching his. This is no aspect of the Fade, no faux-dream; she is real and standing before him, unchanged by the words that he had once used to break both their hearts. He had chosen himself over her, after all, and the selfishness is biting - even as he takes pride in it. ]

You ask me for stories so very often. It seems only fitting that I allow you to be the centre of attention for now.

[ She leans up, enough to give him deja vu, a sense of nostalgia, and it reminds him so sharply of that moment on the balcony when he had given in to her that his breath catches and he has to shake his head. She is so incredible, even now, that the slightest touch draws him closer to her. She is a beacon, a light in the darkness, and he is drawn to her.

He still wishes it were so easy, to give into her light. To pretend he is something he is not. ]

Do you not fear there are more pressing matters? [ His eyebrow lifts, barely, tilting his head as he leans forward. ] An investigation of our company, if our fellows are here, if we can trust the people that have brought us here... [ He shakes his head even as he leans down closer to her; they're almost too close, enough that he feels that he might burn from it. ] Though, I admit, the idea of running away with you is quite tempting.

[ He ignores the pang her words give him. We can do it together, she had told him, even as he backed away and shook his head, turned from her and spurned her. No, he must be alone. ]

[ That she might have been destined for her role as Inquisitor was still something she had not quite accepted. That she had been set up for it, that Cassandra and the advisors had gone out of their way to inform the masses before giving her any indication was much more believable. I wonder what kind of here you'll be, he had said. It wasn't about heroism. It never was. It was about doing what was right, fixing what had been broken, and restoring what had been lost (most of those things, those that could be changed for the better).

Herald of Andraste, a Dalish elf, marked with an artifact of the People. She can already imagine how her story will be rewritten, again and again, to disguise the truth from those who would insist she was guided by the Maker's hand and nothing more.

The elves would be blamed or ignored if the truth was known.

Nasrin lifts her gaze to his and though her smile does not falter, she shakes her head. ]

I would prefer to hear your stories.

[ His experiences are remarkable, his magic powerful indeed to allow him to see reflections of the past in the Fade and to befriend powerful and wise spirits. She is envious and grateful both, and pleased beyond measure to have him beside her, to have him impart what he has learned in his journeys.

And it is better, still, to listen to him tell of his dreams than to hear of herself.

Oh, but he is close now, and it takes every ounce of willpower to keep herself from closing the gap and pressing her lips to his. It's his questions that sober her, and though the fire in her eyes has not abated, her expression is focused on the matter at hand. ]

I do. This war does not sit well with me, nor its consequences. Should we fail, should the Unseelie fail, then Thedas will suffer for it. But I think you and I both know whether we can trust the monarchs who have conscripted us.

[ She was not taken willingly from her duty, nor he from his (and she does not even know the truth of the matter, that he has been spirited away from a calling much more important than the Inquisition's plan). That their respective monarchs are not present at the feast is telling. It is not unlike Halamshiral, she thinks, with Celene and Gaspard absent for most of the banquet; there are shadows and whispers, and a veiled knife behind each.

Her eyes meet his and she smiles again, though it is muted this time, fainter. To be close to him is enough, even if she would like a bit more. Nasrin draws his hand to her waist. Her voice softens. ]

As much as I would like to run away with you... [ And she would still, very much, like to go, to run to Loch Noa or the Station, to the great woods far beyond the circle of the Unseelie Court, to learn what could aid them in their fight for the Unseelie and for Thedas. She would like nothing more and it shows; she is torn between two oaths, responsibilities that do not right directly parallel to one another.

Sighing, she dips her head briefly. ] Perhaps that can wait until later, when we know more about what is here...and what we need to do. I'd like to know if any of our companions made it here as well.

[ And yet--

Nasrin lifts her head, tilted upwards, to very briefly steal a kiss from Solas. It's a simple brush of lips and little else, and when she steps away, her smile is brighter (and perhaps devious with the challenge). ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

TEST DRIVE #6

i have zero self control (unseelie)

oh my gosh you are lucky her canon point is post-Mythal stuff

oh no how much will this hurt me (also did you want romance y/n? C:)

a looot (her app will be non-romanced for comfort's sake but if you want to do a thing... c:)

this is a test drive let us do the most painful solution

oops there goes my heart, off of the battlements

mine is right there with you

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