fellmemes | Test Drive #1

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! test drive

Test Drive #1

Welcome to the August test drive—our first in

fellden! We're so excited to have you with us.

A few things of note:

✦ Test drive threads can be considered game-canon if you choose. They're essentially in a shared dreamscape and take place between your character leaving their world, and arriving in the audience hall with their faction leader.
✦ Reserves are open and will continue to be until 11:59 PM UTC on Tuesday, August 20th; they are not necessary to apply! They're valid for the first four days of the application cycle.
✦ Applications will open at 12:01 AM UTC on the 21st, and remain open until 11:59 PM UTC on the 27th. The IC & OOC intro logs will be posted two days later.
✦ Questions? We have a FAQ that's chock full of good information! If they are test drive specific, we have a top level thread below that allows for OOC questions to be posted.
✦ The network is available to use! No matter where your character is, their compass either arrived on their person or available in the Gods Wood. Please feel free to include a network post in your top-levels! Once opened, the compass will display instructions on use, such as using voice-commands to activate it. (Apologies for missing including this on the initial test drive!)

All set?

Perfect! Welcome to Fellden.

AS THE MOON RISES.
You’ll find yourself just outside the Temple doors, which will be locked if you try to open them. A little rude, keeping you out after bringing you all this way. The thing is, you can hear a lot of commotion in the distance, and smoke rising from the center of a district; you may want to check that out. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire!

Except the smoke is not at all something to be concerned over. Instead, people are gathered near a large bonfire in the decorated city square, drinking and carousing, singing songs of celebration; Moon saviors have arrived! War winners! The residents of the city laugh and sing and dance in pairs throughout the square, grateful for those who have come to aid them. Their merriment doesn’t dwindle as the sun begins to set on the horizon, twin moons rising in its place.

When you (and other new arrivals) are finally noticed by the revelers, do not expect to be left alone! Flower crowns will be deposited upon your heads, food and drink placed into your hands, while live musicians play loud enough for the dead to hear. You’ll be invited to dance, to drinking games, and offered food and flowers and other items of value. Some may cry when they look into your face, thanking you for becoming their champions during this long and exhaustive war.

Hopefully you’re here to enjoy the festivities. Sneaking off is just fine, too, but don’t expect to be let go of quietly; the people of the Moon Temple are so happy to see you! Enjoy the celebration while it lasts long into the night.

THE SETTING STARS.
Unlike the Temple, your arrival to the Court of Stars is met with a rather somber greeting, however expressions are relieved, despite any emotional guard that may be up.

A gathering of knights, weary from a skirmish along the border they're returning from, pat you on the back and lead you through an open air courtyard. All the gathered people of the Emperor's Court look up from their tasks, giving the passing Otherworlders a knowing nod. There's gratitude in their eyes, but that's all the welcome you'll receive: your presence is appreciated, but growing an attachment is another heartache for those that care so deeply for their faction fellows. The silence is broken when a high-ranking member of the guard gives the proclamation: "Our heroes have arrived! Court defenders, world travelers! Help has come from the far lands to aid us in our battles for our Emperor, for all of Fellden!"

From there, the few knights that have not yet departed will lead you through the Court's castle, a brief tour of the most important areas (dining hall, housing wing, guard barracks, and the throne room) is given before they instruct you to rest, because the real excitement begins when the sun falls behind the horizon.

Left to drift, you can explore the castle, or venture out to the surrounding city as it prepares for the celebration the Starfolk have in store for the returned soldiers and, now, the new arrivals. You'll be invited to the party that spreads across the entire Court city, drawn into large circle dances, and will find that the locals become more at ease and welcoming the longer you spend with them.

WELCOME TO THE GODS WOOD.
Between one blink and the next, your eyesight has seemingly been stolen from you. Or, perhaps it’s more likely that something is covering your eyes? Yes, that’s definitely a blindfold tied around the back of your head, although quite the mystery as to how it came to be there. You vaguely remember a wolf that may or may not have spoken to you, but the blindfold is certainly a new addition to the situation.

Once removed, you’ll find yourself in the thick of the woods, with no path or directional indicators in sight. The moon is obscured by the tree line, and the stars above do nothing to light your path; seems like removing the blindfold wasn’t as helpful as you may have thought. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, it’s obvious that you are not alone in this; other people are removing their blindfolds just as you are, staring blearily into the dark of the forest with a similar lack of understanding to how they came to be here.

Thankfully, you’ll find some nearby travel packs with self-lighting torches, a few rations, and your faction-provided communicator. The compass, unfortunately, remains broken, which means you’ll have to find your way out of the woods without it. Hopefully your sense of direction is passable!

Whether you team up with others, or go your separate way is entirely up to you, but you must find your way out, and the fog rolling in is not going to be of any assistance. This is a Dropping, and the Gods Wood is not kind to loiterers.

DRAWN TO THE COASTLINE.
Needing an escape from the hectic energy that greeted you in your faction, an empathetic bystander pointed you in the direction of a nearby transport mirror, which you either stepped into without stating a destination, or didn't give one with enough clarity for the mirror to understand. Spitting you out on the beach just outside Kyst, it doesn't seem keen to let you back the way you came; temperamental teleportation magic.

As the largest trade city in all of Fellden, there is no shortage of things to do here! Shopping with what coin was hoisted upon you before your departure, mapping out the city itself to memorize the in's and out's, enjoying a drink on the house at a local tavern where you can get into a mean game of cards with some faction soldiers, or even meeting someone else that seems to have stumbled into this world just as you did. Perhaps you're more keen to the outdoors, rather than the bustle of a large city, wandering away from the city just far enough to find a stretch of pristine beach and inviting crystal clear waters of the ocean; the salty air fills your lungs while the rays of the midday sun are almost blinding against the swath of bright white sand that meets the crashing waves.

Regardless of what you decide to do, or where you end up, you're in the closest thing to No Man's Land you can get; enjoy your time fraternizing with the enemy, make some new friends in this neutral land, or stick with those from your own faction to get a lay of the land.

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[The word ‘magic’ has him pulling a face and reaching for the wine bottle all over again; he’d seen firsthand something, but he’s still rather suspicious of calling it magic proper. It just seemed far too convenient that suddenly this strange new world would allow non-occult entities that sort of power; it was, after all, very abuseable. Probably why She hadn’t given those powers to humans, to be truthful.]

We’re here now [He mimics as he refills his glass, though there’s notably less sass there than if he were addressing anyone but Aziraphale. The angel gets a friend pass, but that doesn’t mean he’d ever be completely safe from Crowley’s sarcasm.] That’s the problem there. Neither of us should have to be heroes. Already earned that back home, this is supposed to be the reward after averting the bullocksing apocalypse.

[Taking a new swig of wine, he frowns before catching his angelic counterpart with a fixed look.] Unless you think that this is some ineffable payback for it. Eternal punishment, all that jazz.

( That sarcasm is so familiar that Aziraphale doesn’t think twice about it, beyond giving Crowley a chiding look. They can’t help being here now, no matter how much they wished they were elsewhere. Already he misses his bookstore, the Ritz, perhaps a picnic he wanted to take with Crowley now that their head offices wouldn’t be breathing down their necks. )

I had hoped for at least fancier dinners. Less horses, too — I know you’re not very fond of those. Unless it was one of those carriage rides through the old parts of London, I’ve always wanted to go one one of those, you know. ( Right, back to the point.

Aziraphale takes the bottle from Crowley and pours himself another glass and taking a measured sip. And then a slightly stronger one. ) Oh don’t joke, that would be horrid. A wolf doesn’t really seem like something one of yours, or one of mine, would come up with to get us here.

( A pause. )

That is how you arrived, yes?

[The question does give him pause, because it's so insane that Crowley can't even begin to count the ways. Certainly there were many of them, and they were very varied, but that doesn't seem to be exactly what Aziraphale was expecting to hear. In fact, there seems to be a slight hitch to his companion's voice that, were he a better demon, Crowley might have taken advantage of. It was probably a good thing he wasn't, then, because instead he furrows his brows and glares into his glass like it holds all the answers that he doesn't have.]

Thought that was some fever dream [He admits begrudgingly, because having to say 'yes I definitely saw a talking wolf in the middle of a forest' doesn't feel quite right at all.] Now you're saying you saw that too? Definitely isn't one of ours, at least as far as I could tell. Too...flashy.

[There's cosmic irony in Crowley feeling that way.]

So that begs the question, what the blessed reason is there for us to be whisked away to some fantasy land like this?

( Ah. Aziraphale can't help but feel some amount of smugness at the fact that Crowley arrived here in the same way he did; there's nothing that the other man can dismiss about that. Which means they can start working at the problem from the very beginning. The same boat indeed. )

Hardly. And I don't sleep. ( No, his appeared during his waking hours before he could think twice. But then Crowley admits that it's too flashy, and Aziraphale's eyebrows raise as he takes a sip of wine. Well, well, well.

But because he is a generous, angelic sort, he lets it pass without comment. This once. ) No, the wolf appeared as if it was perfectly normal for such a thing to be in my back room. Didn't even knock over a stack of books.

( And those were the details that Aziraphale would have remembered. As for the question, he shrugs. )

To protect what we love, who we love. At least that was the reason I was given. Seemed as compelling as any.

( And he will not be going into details about what and who that includes, thank you very much. It's enough of a reason, well -- it's the reason he helped avert the apocalypse. It was certainly compelling enough to get him to agree to come here, although he hadn't known it at the time. Aziraphale would gladly do whatever needed to be done if it meant he could have his shop, good food, and Crowley. )

Edited 2019-09-01 14:47 (UTC)

And I don't get fevers, what of it?

[It's actually always been something of a mystery as to why Aziraphale didn't see the luxury in sleeping. He was practically a hedonist in every other aspect of human life, it seemed so strange that that would be the one area that he wouldn't indulge in.

That's a thought for another day, however, because it's far more important to focus on the fact that they've both been whisked away thusly.]

Love. [The word rolls off his tongue as if it's something dreadfully bitter, and Crowley takes another sip of his wine to chase it down. Demons weren't fit to feel love, proper demons at least. Millennia spent amongst humanity had- well he'd never want to admit it, but perhaps there was something a bit more relatable in that potential than Crowley was comfortable with.]

Already stopped the world from biting it, and now they're going to say that it's gone and gotten in trouble all over again? Great pustulant bullocks to that.

[It's much easier to focus on annoyance than it is to wax on theoretical love, but his ire isn't focused on the angel seated across from him. This wasn't something either of them would have ever expected, and in fact it's actually quite comforting to know that neither of them would have to go at it alone.]

Better question: how do we get out of dodge? Back home, away from all this. Haven't got anything from the people I've talked to, how about you?

( If he were younger, and still in the same position that he finds himself in with Crowley, the callous dismissal of love might have stung. Threatened something in his chest even as he would have to reassure himself that demons don't feel love. Foolish.

He's still a fool, but at least he can bear it with a face that doesn't exactly show how the reminder feels -- something flicking in his eyes, the subtle downturn of his mouth at the way the word sounds on his lips. Crowley is a demon, for all that they are friends and allies and different enough to stand together to face down the end of the world. He can't forget that.

Aziraphale takes a sip of his wine instead of doing anything else. )

The reward for a job well done is another job. ( He parrots at him, raising a single brow for a moment. ) For all your effort to convince me to save it once, I didn't think it would be my turn to try and tell you we should save it again. Come now, Crowley, as it stands we don't have any other options.

( He's just saying. But that question makes him pause, and he shakes his head. )

None. I imagine the High Priestess will be our best bet in getting that information, and perhaps convincing her that we are more use back in our world than here.

[There's something that passes between them, lightning quick and unreadable, but it's enough to give Crowley pause. He's not certain what it is, feels...almost uncomfortable trying to parse things through, and so he busies himself with scowling half-heartedly down at the table instead. Leave it to Aziraphale to be so bless'd level-headed in all this.]

Yeah, well, I don't think either of us wanted another job. [It's a weak argument, and the words lack heat. For everything and for as much as he hated whatever situation they'd found themselves in, the angel was right. They'd worked so hard to give the world a second chance, the thought of something threatening that is just-

His train of thought is summarily interrupted when Aziraphale continues on, and he looks up and makes a motion with one hand to try and stop the angel's rambling.]

Hold on, go back a second. That's only if we can get to her, that's not going to be easy what with all this war stuff going on. I'd reckon that it's going to be bloody well impossible, for my money.

( Aziraphale sighs at that, for he does have to agree with Crowley -- he can't have him thinking that he was willing to abandon him and their peace for another war. It's just that this is the hand they've been dealt; and for now he can't see any way around it. ) I didn't. ( His expression softens, head tilting towards Crowley with barely disguised fondness. ) I would have happily passed the time having lunches with you. And maybe a few evening shows -- there was talk about doing shows at the Globe as they would have been done -- accents and all -- when it was all new. We could have seen Hamlet, or perhaps Much Ado About Nothing--

( He's saved from recounting all of his potential plans with Crowley by his interruption and gesture, falling silent. Wait, what? What does he mean get to her? )

Certainly not. We woke up in her temple, after all. It couldn't possibly be easier to ask for an audience or gain her help.

Hows about this? When we figure out how to blow this place, we’ll go to one of those shows you like. I’ll even stand through Hamlet. [That’s saying a lot, given his opinion on the show, but there’s a fondness in his tone that he’d deny to the ends of the Earth. It- it would be worth the gloominess to see Aziraphale as excited as he always was; why the angel was so particularly attached to that play, he’d never understand.

But that’s something for another time, because as the conversation flows on, Crowley finds himself accidentally, and woefully embarrassingly, inhaling part of his drink when Aziraphale mentions the temple. There’s a slow horror that’s beginning to creep up his spine, and he desperately, against all odds, hopes that it’s unfounded.]

No. No, no, no, no, no, no-

[He groans, pained, searching the angel’s face for any possible hint that he’s joking. It’s futile, of course, Aziraphale rarely, if ever, has that sort of humor, and that just makes everything so much worse.]

You can’t tell me that that’s where you’ve been? For serious?

( He's about to say that he'd like that very much, all things considered, but then Crowley cuts through his thoughts with a repeated mantra and something in Aziraphale's chest sinks. Had he said something wrong? He couldn't think of any--

But then Crowley continues, and that sinking feeling hits rock bottom. Where you've been -- where else would he be? Unless, unless Crowley had been somewhere else. With a different head, and Aziraphale's eyes widen even as something in his chest twists. )

Of course it's where I've been. Are you-- that is to say, you're not with the Court of Stars. Are you?

( Aziraphale doesn't consider himself bitter, nor jaded, and the revelation hurts the part of him that had quickly come to like being on the same side. And now they weren't. )

[Were this any other time, perhaps he would make a snarky comment about the naming conventions of the two sides, but for now there's far more important things to focus on. Namely, the apparent fact that the universe is laughing at them again. If Crowley hadn't been convinced that there was no justice in the world before, he's entirely sure now.]]

Opposite sides. They brought us in on opposite bloody sides!

[If he raises his voice just a little, well than the rest of the world will have to deal with it. This revelation is just exactly the opposite of what he'd dared to hope; they'd managed to make it through the entire apocalypse and now they'd ended up separated again.]

No, we're not doing this again. Angel, what I said before is still true: we're on our side. They can't do this to us.

( Something lodges in his throat as he remembers a conversation yelled in a park, of how Crowley was trying desperately to convince him of such a thing, of leaving it all behind if they couldn't stop it and even before -- going off into the stars. He wonders, now, if Crowley would have actually done it. Abandoned Earth, humanity, to the whims of both Heaven and Hell. Not that Aziraphale ever wants to know the answer, ever wants to think of Earth without Crowley and them on opposite sides once more.

He swallows thickly. )

Crowley-- ( He feels small, defeated. Even though they haven't done any fighting on behalf of their patrons yet -- surely that was supposed to come. At least with Heaven he knew where he was supposed to stand and what felt right. Here he's less sure, knows where he wants to be but doesn't know how to get there. ) It appears they already have.

( Aziraphale's mind works, however, and something in his posture is different from the last time they had this talk. )

But, I suppose both sides wouldn't be opposed if we were working together on a way to, to-- to stop all of this.

[Aziraphale, bless him, is undoubtedly right; they’ve already been separated, entirely against their wills. It’s a cruel parallel to the last few millennia, something that they’d finally managed to overcome in the last few weeks, and Crowley is understandably upset with the entirety of the proceedings. It feels like such punishment, divine or otherwise, after they’d only just saved the entirety of humanity; certainly if it were a reward it was in poor taste.

There’s something different this time, however. They’d had this conversation before, at least in some iteration, but it had ended poorly- poorly enough that that had almost been it for their friendship. Now, however, the angel across from him looks determined, emboldened even, and the words that come out of his mouth next give Crowley a sliver of hope. Hope, that he, well, hopes, isn’t misplaced.]

They don’t seem as set on war, I’ll give them that.

[Clever, clever Aziraphale, he makes a very valid point. From the little that he’s learned about the conflict, it’s less about winning and more about survival. Perhaps that would make both sides desperate…enough to wheedle in and cause some sensible chaos. The thought drains away some of his anger, and for the briefest moment there’s a slight curl of his mouth, a grin trying and failing to take root.]

Beg forgiveness rather than ask permission, I should think. Like last time.

( He relaxes somewhat, knowing that this time things will be different. Aziraphale learned his lesson the last time -- that in the end, he and Crowley really are on their own side. And he's okay with that, he's more than okay with it. Why should being here change that, anyway? Stopping this nonsense would be just as good a way to get home that insuring one had victory of the other -- perhaps even better, considering that neither has made much progress against the other recently. )

We can be thankful for that. I'd rather not have it just be us between two armies and their goals again, if it's all the same to you. Not that I wouldn't, of course.

( Crowley's right about back home. It most likely will be humanity versus the Heavenly Host and the armies of Hell. Neither side would stand for the free wheeling, free willing humans to continue on as they have in the future -- flaws and all. And Aziraphale knows where he'd stand in that -- next to Crowley, next to the humans.

Yet he can't help but give Crowley a look all the same. )

Technically one has to be truly repentant in order to want forgiveness. In that case, it shall no doubt be exactly like last time.

( Since he knows neither of them actually felt bad about what they'd done, at the end of the day. )

Right, 's just a saying, angel. Do I look like I'm one to repent?

[He flashes a grin, a bit too wide and a bit too toothy, to Aziraphale before looking back down to the glass in his hand. At the very least wine was consistent between universes. Ugh, he hates himself for even thinking that; 'universes', like some terrible sci-fi plot.]

Besides, I'm sure there are some paranoid ones that got dragged here too. All it takes is a few little suggestions, a nip of a temptation, to get them to turn the tides on their own. It's easy, we've been doing this for how many years? We probably won't even have to get our hands dirty if we don't want to.

You're incorrigible, Crowley.

( And Aziraphale wouldn't have him any other way. Taking another sip, he gives the other man a smile. This was good, this was comfortable, and he was happy that he had this amidst everything else. They had each other, and they could go from there and find their way out of this mess.

While helping, of course, for Aziraphale doesn't wish to see all worlds and all the things he loves destroyed. )

I could start another shop! ( Just to tie him over until he gets back, of course. ) Although I have to wonder if it's going to be as easy as you make it seem. We can't be the first to think so.

[The groan that Crowley gives is, in some way, good-natured, but he can’t help but roll his eyes at Aziraphale’s sudden revelation.]

A shop? I mean we don’t plan to be here for very long if it all goes right, would you even have time for something like that?

[Certainly he’d like to think that they’ll be back to their home proper sooner rather than later. If they were trapped in this land for long enough to obtain property and set up keep…well that doesn’t bode well at all. Still, it’s hard to rain on the angel’s parade, not when he looks that excited, and so Crowley’s judgment is only sort of superficial.]

Besides, we’ve done this before. It can’t be that hard. [Yes it absolutely can.]

( He's right, and part of him deflates a little. Straightening up his clothes, Aziraphale sighs. ) Yes, well. There are bound to be books here, Crowley. Rare books. I shall need someplace to keep them all. Even if we won't be long -- what if someone unscrupulous tried to take them?

( Hopefully sooner, but he still is interested in starting up a collection here. Not that he'll be able to bring it back with him, but one never knows. He can hope, and Aziraphale is very, very good at hoping. Practically an expert at it by now. )

On Earth, where we're supposed to be. It might not work the same way here. I'm not saying we shouldn't, you know, give it a go. Just to be prepared in case it doesn't.

[It's like he's kicked a puppy, which for a demon really shouldn't be that big of a deal. Still, there's something that twists unpleasantly in his chest to see Aziraphale's excitement fade, and instead of continuing to make fun of the angel for his eccentricities, Crowley just gives a huff of breath and pretends to focus on his wine.

It's not like he feels bad or anything. Of course not.]

We couldn't have that, now could we? [It's supposed to come out sarcastic, but misses the mark.] Look, we'll- we'll figure out what to do with the books you get. It might not be bad to have somewhere on neutral ground to hole up in if things go pear-shaped.

( If Crowley is looking for Aziraphale to brighten up, he gets his wish -- the angel giving the demon a smile that errs slightly on the side of smugly satisfied with Crowley's change of opinion. That was much better, thank you. He knows he's being indulged and he shamelessly truly enjoys it, even though he knows he shouldn't.

He doesn't examine the feeling further. )

Certainly not. ( But he nods, thinking. ) Someplace no one cares which faction we belong to, as well. Whatever they might do to us pales in comparison to what, er, our head offices tried. I should think that even if anyone found out, so long as we do our jobs they shouldn't care a wit. And, well.

( Aziraphale twists the ring on his pinky, not looking at Crowley and instead focusing on his wine. )

I've gotten so used to seeing you around these past eleven years. It would feel-- I mean, that is to say, I'd miss your company.

( And he is just going to take a nice, long drink. )

Should think that as long as they don’t figure out exactly what we are, we should be golden.

[That did beg the question though: did the two sides know? If there were powers wonderous enough to yank them from their home, did that also mean that their occult (ethereal) heritage would be common knowledge? It’s a bit more worrisome than he’s comfortable with, and Crowley frowns at his glass as he ponders things.

That train of thought, however, is neatly and summarily derailed when Aziraphale continues on. It’s as if everything comes to a screeching halt and Crowley is left trying to decide if he’s heard correctly. When it’s obvious that he has, there’s another little twist of something in him, something that he pointedly doesn’t pry into, even as it threatens to creep into his expression and soften it.]

Well, ah, same, angel, same.

[He pauses for a moment to catch himself.]

Like I said before, you’re just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing. It’d be a damn shame if we didn’t get to enjoy our vacation, right?

( This. This is what he would have missed if he had ended up here alone. The warmth he feels in his chest that threatens to burst from him; that causes his smile to curve up with the hidden joy that he feels at Crowley's answer. The almost-inflection and the way something turns Crowley's face soft. It is a dangerous moment, this, because Aziraphale can almost think -- well, he can almost think a lot of things.

He nearly does, before he sternly reminds himself of who and what Crowley is, that it's foolish. That he could just be imagining things once more. Best not to let his thoughts carry on too far, now, and he pulls himself back to something more realistic, grounded.

Crowley is his best friend, and he's glad to have him here, sitting across from him now. )

Another toast, then? To a fruitful and brief vacation here, before a longer one back home?

[Crowley raises his glass in response, a soft smirk snaking its way across his face before he can help it. It isn’t a situation that either of them would have ever thought they’d be in, but they’re together. They’re together, and they’ve done this before so they can certainly do it again, even if the scenery is a little different this time around. And truthfully, he’s relieved that he isn’t alone; it isn’t as if he hasn’t spent time by himself before, but there’s just something- well, comforting knowing that his oldest and dearest friend is around to have his back.

There’s no one else he’d trust to, after all.]

A toast. And I’ll take you up on that picnic back home, how about that?

( Aziraphale can't help but feel content in this moment. At ease, here in a strange world with his oldest adversary. His best friend, and perhaps truest friend in all of history. It's different, here, and it won't be as easy as Crowley thinks it will be, he's certain. But they have each other, and after everything that they've been through -- that's something. It's a huge something.

Aziraphale smiles. )

That would be lovely. Quite the something to look forward to after all this. ( Ah, but the toast. ) To this world, then.

( He clinks his glass against Crowley's, smile never disappearing off his face as he takes a sip. )

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Test Drive #1

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