forest_fire | Setting the Stage

His time with the Audentes had changed the course of Evan's life. He imagined he was amongst a remarkable majority of ex-recruits in that regard, and in retrospect it was unsurprising, but at first returning home had been a shocking readjustment. He had withdrawn from the semester that he had been halfway through, not because he could not recall the information his classes had been imparting -- that was a state that could be fixed, after all -- but because the very structure of school had thrown him. He had left campus, he had gone home and told his parents what had happened: they had been furious and fascinated and shocked and relieved in turn, and Evan could sympathize. In the end he'd spend six months at home.

It had been a boon. Dropping out had meant reapplying, and reapplying had made Evan shrug and send applications to other universities, pie-in-the-sky places he hadn't considered before. It'd been his time with ALASTAIR that he ultimately credited, therefore, his acceptance to one of the schools tied for the top of the pile in comp sci undergraduate programs.

From there on out, it'd been much harder to miss his time away from home, as the program was ferociously exacting, even for his standards. Ultimately the Audentes never faded from his mind entirely, but they settled squarely into past, not present, and his pangs for his friends there faded as he slowly accepted the unlikelihood of ever seeing any of them again.

By the beginning of his second year at the new university, he had settled back into the realities of life on Earth entirely. Student housing, cafeterias, lectures, labs and all extra hours spent studying were routines that became easy once more (although perhaps he got a little more involved in extracurriculars than he otherwise would have). The big brick student residence halls, with the towers on the corners, had been built a hundred years ago and renovated in the eighties. It had been cutting-edge then, with whiteboards and two fireplaces in each common area, and brown carpet all in the hallways. The radiators worked but they made noise in the winter, the beds were narrow, the desks in the bedrooms tall and solid and terribly dated. It became home to Evan with ease, even having to put up with a roommate again. Campus was expansive and riddled with enough to keep him occupied all hours of the day, even the rare few he didn't spend on schoolwork.

Life carried on.

Threaded | Flat

Life carried on.

It had been about two months since Evan had disappeared (returned home, Meallan had been assured, although a part of him doubted exactly how true that was) and life carried on with ALASTAIR as it always had, brief breaks on Oska before they were sent out for another mission to do what they could to aid other worlds once more. But even with the work to help keep his mind busy, Meallan still found himself turning to look for a familiar, red-haired form that was no longer there, coming up with questions or topics to talk about with someone he'd likely never speak to again. His heart ached from the loss, felt as keenly as the loss of his brother, his clan, his friends in the Inquisition before, and he found himself wondering at times if it ever became any easier to bear or not.

He wondered as well what answer he'd like better, and found he couldn't decide, preferring instead to try to drive the melancholy away with a sharp focus on their work and pushing himself to do more and help others in ways he felt he should have come up with sooner. Laedo helped him in fashioning a new arm to replace the one lost to the Anchor, a limb that moved as sure and easy as if he'd been born with it, though it was a delicate, pale shade of gold with a thread of green across the palm, something Meallan had requested to remember all that had been lost in the past. It helped motivate him to focus on learning healing himself as well, and he found a strange peace in burying himself in helping others as much as he could, working until he was too exhausted to dwell on what he missed or to dream of a nervous smile that he'd never see again.

Or at least, he'd never have expected to see again. Not until the fateful day when ALASTAIR finally said that they thought he might have a path home, a way to return to Thedas and hopefully focus on the concerns of his own world, and Meallan had willingly accepted and stepped through their portal...

...only to find himself falling far enough for his stomach to flipflop in fear before he hit the ground hard enough that he lay there stunned for a moment or so, taking in the smell of autumn in the air, a tang of cold and smell of wood smoke and leaves that was familiar and yet... not.

He rose then, looking around at strange buildings that seemed too large and different for Thedas and he felt a twist of despair as he realised that wherever he was, it wasn't Thedas. ALASTAIR hadn't gotten him home after all, though he wasn't certain if it was on purpose or not.

Hopefully if it was a mistake or a test they'd get in contact with him or bring him back shortly, but in the meantime... Meallan imagined it might be a good idea to find out more about where he was, just in case it was a final task before he could truly leave. The building before him seemed as good a starting point as any, and he made his way towards it, ignoring the stares he got from humans as he got closer. The looks weren't unusual really; even in Thedas a Dalish elf drew murmurs and fearful looks among many human settlements, and he was used to standing out in other worlds as well. So instead of letting them worry him, he entered the main building and looked around for someone who might seem useful to ask questions of.

The place he'd entered was a dining area of some kind, which was good since there were enough people there that he'd have plenty of choices, but it was in looking around that Meallan spotted one face in particular that stood out immediately, and he barely had time to realise who it was before he was making his way over to the table, hardly noticing the whispers and stares, and stopping next to the seated figure.

"...Evan?"

this tag is subtitled "Meallan gatecrashes a cafeteria"