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THE MOTHERFUCKING TEST DRIVE MEME STRIKES BACK

TEST DRIVE MEME

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[It's cold.

Many a poem goes on about the coldness, the unforgiving nature of death. Franz was always a bit too skeptical to be entirely religious, but he hadn't had time to worry about things in the heat of the moment, the clash of swords and the pain and chill as his life bled away.

Albert's arms were warm, but he is not embraced by his friend any longer.

He is dizzy, cold, utterly confused and vaguely angry. He is familiar enough with space ships, though he's never been on a trip that necessitated a cold sleep.

He supposes it is possible he was put in stasis to be worked on, but how could such a thing be afforded? Is he on a ship, in some kind of facility? Why would anyone bother with such a thing?

Feeling disturbed and ill, Franz stumbles into his clothes, and sinks to sit on the ground, urging his world to stop spinning.]

Why..?!

In polite company, yes.

[Her emphasis making it abundantly clear that she does not consider him such. Still, it was best not to stand gawking. She'll make her way to the counter with a feigned nonchalance and half-heartedly look through the food herself, never quite taking her eyes off him.]

I will admit, you are among the last I thought to meet in this place.

[Albert's getting better at the jumps already. This is his third time now, waking up like this. They said it gets easier, and it does. But never too easy. Amongst the chaos of everybody else waking, stumbling, showering, changing and so on and so forth in their own time, Albert manages to find his way to the showers this time without preamble, taking care to keep his eyes steadily on the ground so as not to make the nausea worse.

He thinks about the last jump as the hot water runs. Last jump... last jump he had looked for familiar faces as soon as he'd woken up. But not this time. Why? Was he really the sort of person to give up so easily?

The stray thought made him annoyed. He turned off the shower abruptly and exited, toweled off and changed. He had to be more resilient than this-- even if it hurt every time when he found nobody there. So he returns to the grav couches, and from the doorway, sweeps his gaze over the crowd again.]

Albert?

[Franz staggers to his feet, spurred on by the sight of his friend. He hopes this means he's not in some kind of afterlife - he does not want to believe that all his effort to save Albert were for naught. But what is he doing here? What are they both...]

Heyyyy!

[And Franz's action is to PUNCH HIS FRIEND ON THE SHOULDER.

With love.]

I was beginning to think this was a really lousy party.

[Albert is just looking so heartbroken... he hopes he can make him laugh.

Because he made him cry, last time they were together.]

Edited 2013-04-29 08:37 (UTC)

[For a moment, everything feels like it's moving in slow motion. He's underwater, he's-- struggling to breathe. For a moment Albert just stands dreadfully still and stares. It's too much.]

[His face-- what should he do with his face? There are too many emotions battling under the surface for dominance for Albert to even know what to do with himself. Shock, joy, relief, anger, sorrow... before he knows it, his eyes are watering completely involuntarily. And when he finally finds his voice again, it barely comes out in a whisper.]

Fr...anz...

[It's too much.]

You...!

You idiot!

[And if that wasn't enough of a reverse from the usual, Albert punches him. Hard.]

(These jumps don't get any easier, do they? Han's already putting on his clothes and starting to give people a hard time before he notices his buddy ol' pal looking absolutely lost.)

Luke? (Oh god, if the Jedi get their hands on him.)

Well, surprise. Welcome to the Tranquility. Hope it doesn't kill you in thje process. (he wraps an arm around him, leading him through the corridors like he owns the place)

Oof!

[Albert's prone to his overreactions, but Franz is still very surprised by the fist that collides with his face. He's still disoriented, and falls right over.]

What the hell is wrong with you? Have you lost your mind?

[Reacting purely on instinct, Franz kicks Albert, hard.

Never minding that Albert has every reason to be angry at him.

But still, punching the person who saved your life? That's pretty low.]

[ he has no idea where he is and he most certainly doesn't recall any prior experience with this; as far as he knows this is the first time he's been aboard this vessel. (he doesn't even know yet that it's a vessel.) it's instinct that has him turn more than anything and in the split-second between feeling someone behind him and turning to see that it's natasha, he finds himself wishing for the suit again. this one works just fine, perhaps better in terms of stealth but he feels — not lost, exactly. it doesn't matter: he's still the same person, with or without the red-and-blue of his suit.

he gives her a nod and a slight smile that he knows doesn't hide his relief at seeing a familiar face. ] Where are we?

[Albert grunts as the foot connects with a thunk. Fine, two can play at that game, and he launches himself at Franz bodily.]

Maybe I have! How would you know?! You-- you--!

[His arms are shaking visibly.]

[And then the wind seems to go out of him completely.]

I couldn't... I couldn't even attend your funeral... you bastard, how could you?!

[His voice cracks near the end, and now it's pretty obvious that he's crying.]

[ this is not remotely where sam was expecting to wake up. still, it's familiar enough that he gets through the showers with minimal griping, and he's heading back towards the lockers when...

well, abed.

he stops up short, eyes narrowed critically as he lets the monologuing play out. he's got a towel around his waist and he's using the other to dry his arms and hair, but he gives up on that to chuck it at abed's head instead to shut him up and hopefully convince him to cover his junk. ]

You need to get newer material.

[ seriously, spielberg and close encounters. talk about relics. ]

Aliens aren't real, by the way.

[Albert crying. This he's pretty used to.

Confronting the reality of what he's done to Albert in sacrificing himself? He has no idea what to do about this.

Franz rubs Albert's shoulders gently.]

I'm sorry.

I did what needed to be done. You were about to throw your life away, and I had a chance... I knew I couldn't best him in combat, but I thought I might be able to... I found out what he really was, and I thought I might stop him.

[ New presences in the Force are not uncommon on board the Tranquility now but this one has enough strength to move Quinlan to action. He approaches with slow, sure steps - a picture of unconcerned nonchalance save the thumb thrust in to his belt pointedly near to where his lightsaber hangs. ]

It may yet turn out to be a trick - but I don't think your friend is the one responsible.

[What did you say, Franz? Cry harder?]

Idiot...! I-- I don't care about your stupid excuses!

[He buries his face in Franz's chest once more-- so familiar, so comforting, so real. He tries to breathe in that scent but all that ends up happening is more tears.]

I'm sorry... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Franz...

[If Franz knew a way to banish those tears, if, God forgive him, he could kiss them away--]

Shh, it's okay. I'm here now.

[A pause.]

Wherever 'here' is...

[Belatedly wiping at his face with his coat sleeve furiously, he gets himself slightly more under control; though his wobbling voice still gives him away.]

It's a spaceship... I don't know what galaxy though. It-- it pulls people aboard somehow. People from all different worlds and times. People who are alive and people who-- who are supposed to be dead...

I've been here... two months now? Yeah. Two months. And before I came here, it had only been about two weeks since you... I-- I'm not sure exactly, sorry. Time sort of... all mushed together. Back then.

[Franz reaches in his pocket for a hankie, and frowns when he realizes there's none to produce. He attempts to sit up, still cautiously rubbing at one of Albert's shoulders.

He is desperately glad for a change of subject.]

How can you not know who we are? Who owns the ship? Who pilots it?

Not that I'm not glad to see you again. [More than Franz could ever hope to truly describe.] But this is all very suspicious.

Space.

[ So maybe James isn't as helpful as Remus or Sirius, but he gets right to the point with it all. Plus, he's holding out a towel, to help with the nakedness front, because he's been there and thoroughly embarrassed himself and had someone (Queen Guinevere actually) help him then. So now he's here to be the most helpful on that front. ]

But it's all very complicated, really. I'd suggest a shower, maybe a seat, but it's all up to what you'd like to do. [ casually not actually looking at Hermione right now. Just. Off in the distance. ]

What...? [Albert's too busy reeling from the sudden emotional turmoil of seeing Franz alive again; the sudden onslaught of technical questions throws him for a loop, but he soon recovers.]

I... the only remaining crew are Captain Ward and Commander Resnik... I don't know where we are because the galaxy names have no meaning to me. We're so far off in the future that they even number the years differently-- saying our date or location when we don't have any frame of reference for it, isn't it-- well, kind of useless...?

[This is a guy who saw Gankutsuou's true face and said LET'S GO TO THE LIBRARY.]

That doesn't make any sense. What would they want with us in the future?

[Franz sighs heavily, rubbing his temples with his free hand. He's still feeling rather ill.]

Franz... just-- just shut up. For one day. Let me just be happy that you're here.

[And then, finally managing to smile through his wet eyes.]

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