driftfleet | Can't spell 'fun' without cannibals!

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Can't spell 'fun' without cannibals!

Who: Zevran and you
Broadcast: Nah
Action: Arrival on the Hell Planet
When: Right now

Closed To Rowan

[A lot has happened in the whirlwind of him arriving. The oddly calming music, the strange and colorful paper that falls from the ceiling, and the pudding. It's doesn't really fit the burnt and destroyed atmosphere that this metal vessel is giving off. He didn't except to see a dead man walk up to him. He didn't expect his heart to surge with emotions as they kissed, touched, and spoke as only lovers would back to the bedroom.

The fact that Rowan was here made things a lot easier. Rowan knew some things about this place, but they were both learning together. Like right now, as they stalked through the dense forest, moving in the shadows trying not to make themselves out to be targets.]

Why do people eat others?

[Zevran is thinking out loud as he moves with careful footsteps. Maybe this isnt the best time to be talking about such a strange subject but...]

I mean-- I feel like humans wouldn't taste very good. Or elves for that matter. Most of us are so lanky to begin with, we must not have much meat on our bones. But do you think they just look at other people and instead of thinking 'wow, what a beautiful person, I want to fuck them.' Do they think 'I want to eat them'?

Fine elven crafts OTA

[Being an assassin, Zevran doesn't like it when he doesn't have weapons. While anything can be a weapon in his hands, he prefers his blades, his poisons, and his arrows. He doesn't have any of those right now, and the things on the ship were just not the best at what he needed them to do. Lucky for him, he remembered his time with the Dalish, even if it had been rather quick. He saw how they made their tools, how difficult could that be?

Turns out, very.

Zevran is struggling over some twine that he found. It's not the best bow string but its what he has right now. He takes a large piece of wood that he has found lying in the dirt somewhere, and with one end on the ground he tries to curve it by bending and trying the twine to it. It works for a moment, but then the wood breaks, the twine snaps in his face and with a yelp he falls back and holds his sting face.

New plan. Get his weapons back.]

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[Zevran hasn't seen these natives. He doesn't know how dangerous they are, and honestly he has seen Darkspawn. They can not be as bad as them.]

Oh, I have seen a few people I want a taste of.

[His teeth flash as he grins back at Rowan.]

But they can only savour them once. I'm lucky, I can taste mine more.

That's true. Perhaps we should relay to them the pros and cons of eating people. We could change their minds and solve this whole issue with words.

[ OR, they could fight them. Because the Vieziri are hellbent on fighting them and no words, nor a strong leaflet campaign will get them to do otherwise. As he speaks, something whizzes past his head, a hunk of metal that he just barely manages to avoid. In an instant the good mood is gone, and Rowan is moving to cover Zevran as a group of Vieziri approach. ]

Care to give it a try? [ he jokes, adrenaline spiking as he reaches for the daggers he stole off a few of the hunters earlier. ]

Edited 2017-11-05 23:51 (UTC)

You are more of a diplomat than I, my Warden.

[His grin fades at the sudden movement from the forest. He pulls the bow from his shoulder and a single arrow from his back. He didn't have time to make anything too fancy, and he only has 10 arrows. He needs to make these last, at least not until he can take something of use from their hunters.

He pulls the string back. The wood whines but luckily it doesn't break. It's simple, and nothing that can take the abuse he normally gives his weapons. It takes him less than a moment to pull, aim, and fire the arrow into the air. It hits a Vieziri in the chest and a guttural sound is heard as it falls. Zevran's eyes narrow as a more serious look appears on his face. He glances to Rowan.]

I'll cover you.

Edited (fucking phone tags) 2017-11-06 04:11 (UTC)

[ Sub-par his bow may be, but Rowan is still jealous that he has something even resembling a bow. He's not terrible with daggers, but he much prefers lobbing arrows into people's hearts and foreheads than he does going balls deep into the fray — especially now with cannibals involved.

At least he can trust Zevran to have his back while he does so. Rowan nods and almost seems to vanish into the treeline, appearing a few seconds later behind one of the Vieziri. A dagger drives through the back of the hunters throat, but the hunter still has enough time to reach back and toss Rowan over his shoulder and flat onto his ass, leaving him prone for another nearby to avenge his brother.

Ah, fuck. ]

[Ask nicely and maybe he will have that pretty elvan lady to make another. Perhaps they should have switched, Zevran is definitely more accustomed to daggers and getting up close and intimate with his victims. But they had little time to prep for this match, besides Rowan wasn't doing too bad. His form is a little off and his blade work could be better-- but it's not awful.

Zevran paused in his mental criticism as he watches Rowan fall to the ground. His heart skips a beat. His eyes widen as another mad hunter came with his blade raised. He can't help but recall the final battle they were in. That terrible roar, flashing light, and suddenly he was gone. He wasn't about to let that happen again.

He ran, throwing his bow to the ground as he rolls and grabs a dagger from a fallen hunter. He places himself between Rowan and the hunter, just in time for his blade to come down on him instead of the warden. The crooked blade stings as it sinks into his shoulder, but he doesn't mind it. It's better him than Rowan. His eyes narrow as he sees his opening. The hunter has both hands on the blade, pushing it deeper into Zevran, and he takes his own and with his free hand swipes fast and cuts deeply into the hunter's gut. It's enough to cause the other to shudder and stumble as blood and gore spills from him.]

[ Rowan might not be as talented at the blade as Zevran is, but he's certainly no amateur in the ways of being a rogue. And he's already moving to try and dodge the oncoming attack, using that fraction of a second to plan out his next move. But he's stilled when he sees a flash of something out of the corner of his eye — and at first he thinks it might be another hunter.

But no. It's worse. The sickening noise the dagger makes when it sinks into Zevran's shoulder has Rowan wincing, even though he's heard the sound a thousand times before. His eyes wide as he watches, suddenly dumbstruck and incapable as the assassin does what he does best and guts the man that stabbed him. He should have stabbed Rowan. Should have stabbed the ground, rather, but hell he would have taken it. ]

Idiot! [ He shouts, finding his voice and his previously unresponsive body again as he makes a grab for Zevran, aiming to unceremoniously pull him away from the dying Vieziri and the two others that remain, uncaring for their fallen comrades and honing in on the now wounded elf. and as much as he wants to tend to him, there's no time. He snatches the daggers up once more, his expression of rage so uncharacteristic on his usually smiling visage. He makes short work of these two, throats slit and blood pouring. He suffers only a minute wound to his forearm, one he can ignore like he does every other.

It's only then that he returns to Zevran, wincing when he sees the knife in his shoulder. he did that for him. Stupid. ] Now isn't the time to be selfless.

Pot. [Zevran points a bloody finger at Rowan as his other arm hangs at his side. He then points to himself.] Kettle.

[Honestly, Rowan is the last person to talk about being foolishly selfless. He's always been protective of the warden in battle. While he might have not been quite as enthusiastic about it before.

His jaw sets and teeth press together as he touches the knife in his shoulder. He knows better than to pull it out. That would just make things worse.]

I'm fine.

[He stands up with little struggle, every move of his shoulder the blade cuts a little deeper. He's been trained to ignore the pain and that was exactly what he was going to do. Besides, he has suffered worse than this before. He's just glad it wasn't Rowan.]

[ FIRST OF ALL: shut up. Second of all: shut up. Rowan doesn't dignify that with a verbal response — instead grunting his reply as he steps to Zevran's side. They can't just leave the blade in there forever, and if they don't get it out and the wound tended to there's a high chance it could get infected. Then Zevran might be without an arm. ]

We need to get you back to the ship. [ his voice is stern, insistent. He's going to get the elf back to the Bishop even if he has to carry him there like a god damn princess. Rowan presses his palm to the small of Zevran's back, his other hand still holding one of his daggers in case anyone dares to try and attack them while they're making their way back. ]

[Zevran isn't going to fight him on that. He knows what they need to do. It would really be nice if they had a healer right now, because he isnt fond of the idea of being a one armed assassin. He kneels down only to grab the bow he dropped and with some effort and a groan he manages to stand back up straight. His head feels fuzzy, he's lucky Rowan is right there to assist in holding him up.]

I miss Wynne right now. [He chuckles but it turns into a hiss as he sucks in through his teeth. It hurts to even laugh.] I could be crying into her bosom while she takes care of this.

I don't miss the scolding she'd give us for doing something stupid, though. [ He tries to joke, but even that is hard when he's watching Zevran struggle. The assassin is good at masking his pain, but it's impossible to hide the faint winces and sharp intakes of air when he does something he shouldn't.

Rowan could have picked up the bow for him, but he suspects the elf's pride is too prominent for that. Instead he just sticks to what he's doing now, an arm around Zevran's waist as he helps guide him back to their ship. It's a long walk — longer still for a man with a dagger in his shoulder, but hopefully it will at least be uneventful. ]

I suppose I should thank you. You didn't have to do that, Zevran.

When doesn't she scold though?

[He gives a smile but it's rather forced right now. He's trying so hard to keep the pain from coming to the surface. It's a lot to keep in as he walks slower than normal. After a few steps he starts to lean on Rowan a little more.]

Of course I did. [He says that without even a second thought. Protecting the Warden has always been his mission since Rowan spared him.] You know, just because you die doesn't mean you can escape the life debt I have to you.

Fair point.

[ The thought of carrying him crosses Rowan's mind more than once as they slowly limp back toward the ship. It would be faster, but also more dangerous. They'd both be exposed to the wilds; prime targets for the Vieziri and anyone else that might think to take advantage of them. He wouldn't want to jostle him too much, either, lest that wound get worse than it already is. ]

I think you've more than repaid that, my friend. [ He offers him a smile, leaning his head down to gently kiss the top of Zevran's. Friend, he says, and then does something like that. ] We're almost there, just hold on a little longer.

[ While their walk is slow, it is quiet. They avoid anything that could be in the forest watching out for them. Zevran is rather happy to get back to their broken ship. He really wants his blade out of him. The corner of his lips curl when he feels that kiss on his head. He tilts his head up and hold his arm still with his free hand as he does so.]

A single kiss on the head? Is that all I get for this? I think this is worth at least 3.

[He's teasing, but for real he wants more kisses.]

Ah, you're right.

[ He kisses him on the forehead this time, then again on the nose. And finally, carefully, and only when they're inside the ship and relatively safe, he kisses Zevran on the lips. ] I'll give you more than kisses once that blade is gone and you're not bleeding all over me.

Not into blood play?

[He's joking. Or is he? It's hard to tell with the way his face is tight and trying not to express the amount of pain he is in right now. It's when they get to the med bay, or what was left of it at least, that he sits on the counter. His eyes lock on Rowan and he gives an uneasy smile now.]

Be quick.

Never said that.

[ It's right about now that Rowan wishes they weren't crash-landed on a planet with only parts of the ship intact. They have a specialist for this, don't they? But that someone isn't here, and they've already wasted enough time walking here that he can't risk going off to try and find them.

Rowan makes it as quick as he can. Gathering what tools he recognizes before he pulls the blade out and quickly covers it with an alcohol covered cloth. That's gonna hurt, but at least he won't get an infection? ]

[As he watches Rowan he starts to get nervous. His body tenses when Rowan takes a hand on the hilt of the blade. His eyes close, he takes a deep breath, and his uninjured arms moves to take Rowan's empty hand and squeeze it.

He bites at his lip to keep from shouting out as the knife moves inside him. The blade is the easy part, it's the burning alcohol that makes him finally cry out. He pulls Rowan closer as his eyes shut tight and he buries his face in his chest. Its embarssing how he couldn't keep it in, but he's never felt something that stings and burns so much.]

[ The sound he makes is awful, and in that moment Rowan tells himself that he never wants to hear or see Zevran in such pain ever again. He squeezes the elf's hand reassuringly, working faster now with the other to make sure nothing catches in the wound while he cleans it. One-handed, he wraps the wound and pulls Zevran's shirt back over his shoulders. It's only then that hes sets a hand against the back of his head, chin atop his skull. ]

You're alright, Zev. [ he murmurs, kneading at his scalp. ] I'm sorry.

[He goes back to a steady breathing as he leans against Rowan. The grip on his hand looses and he even starts to hum as he feels fingers against his scalp. It feels good, the warmth he gives feels good. He's almost forgotten the pain in his shoulder.

When Rowan apologizes he isnt sure what to say. Rowan didnt make him do this, he wanted too. No, he needed too. He swore on his life that he would protect this man, and on his heart that he wouldnt be harmed again. He would do it all over again if need be. His head tilts up and he smirks.]

Don't worry, you know I like it rough.

[ He didn't make him do it, but if he had been quicker it wouldn't have had to be done at all. Zevran has been here all of two days at this point and he's already wounded — and why? Because of him. Rowan is going to get him killed and then where will they be? Back where they started except Zevran will be dead instead of him. ]

If you wanted it rough, I could have just pulled your hair or something.

Still can.

[He speaks low and with an easy smile. His shoulder still stings, but atleast it is bandaged and clean. He isn't aware of the turmoil going on in the others head right now, but he can see in his eyes that it bothers him. His hand squeezes Rowan's and tugs only slightly to pull him closer.]

Rowan- [His name is warm on his tongue. It reflects words that he can not say, and feelings that he isnt sure of himself. He squeezes his hand again.]

I'm alright.

I'll save that for later. [ When they're not in the medical bay patching up wounds Zevran shouldn't have suffered. Rowan steps closer, fingers still kneading into the elf's scalp, the other hand rubbing over his knuckles. It's such a sweet, intimate moment. He should stop.

But he can't. ]

I know. Just... don't do it again, alright?

[Zevran smiles as he feels the fingers in his hair and the hand in his. He can't help but stare at the man. His eyes light up with each touch because Rowan is alive, this isn't a dream, and he is with him. He still feels as if he will wake up back in Thedas at any moment.]

I promise I will not get stabbed in the shoulder, by cannibals, in the jungle of this planet.

[An oddly specific promise, but that is at least one he will keep. He couldn't make a promise to Rowan that he won't take a blow for him. That would be an out right lie.] I'll even seal it with a kiss.

[ Rowan shakes his head, absolutely not surprised by the overly specific promise Zevran gives. It's the best he's going to get — even he knows that. ]

Good enough. I'll take it. [ He supposes. He leans down for said kiss. This contract is sealed. ]

Edited 2017-11-11 21:01 (UTC)

[His head tilts up as his eyes close and he enjoys the feeling of his lips on his. The pain is in the back of his mind now and easy to ignore as they kiss.]

Good.

[He leans into him as they part from their kiss, their foreheads together.]

Ah, but too bad for our adventure. I was hoping to lure you away for a little bit longer.

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