antivanleather | First Cut - It's the deepest, woah [Action/Voice] Backdated to this morning

[Another day dawns and it's normal enough for the village. People laughing, groaning as they wake, brushing their teeth, taking a shower, or sleeping in. Things that are normal enough for anyone that isn't nocturnal.

What might not be normal is the fact that there is, your bed, hammock, or wherever it is that you sleep, an elf.

A tanned, tattooed sleeping elf, all but cuddled up next to whoever's still in bed with him, or curled around a pillow if they've stepped out for the aforementioned shower. The exhausted thing is out cold, wings tucked up against his spine, fingers of one hand curled as though cupping the face of a lover. Or around the hilt of an absent knife. Care to wake him from his deep slumber? Perhaps with a kiss? Or a fist. Whichever comes first.

Later in the day a voice rich with laughter crackles across the network]

-nd it records voice as well? Marvelous! Ah, the wonders of this world shall never cease. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Zevran, Zev to my friends, and I was wondering if anyone could point me in the direction of a prime hunting ground. I've recently found my blades and find myself in need of an...exhausting diversion.

(ooc: Breaking time is just fine, and the art linked was drawn by the lovely Plum, Sabriel's mun. Tattoos doodled in by me.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Only if it pleases you. I can be completely serious if you like that instead, but then what fun is there to be had in that?

[Free room and board while trapped in this place. He could learn to like it, he supposes, especially if all the women are as lovely as Anita.]

I suppose I'll just have to try my luck, won't I? But for now- yes. I am positively ravenous. [He stands and puts on his saddest eyes.] Feed me?

[And more eye-rolling.] Come on, then. I have food in the kitchen, but there are restaurants if you don't feel like making something. I don't cook for home invaders.

Not even accidental home invaders?

[He chuckles and follows her, blinking for the first time at the set up of the room. It was...very different than what he was accustomed to. Materials, the styling of the furniture. Very, very odd. It only lends further credence to what Anita's told him, so he tries not to think much of it.]

Not even accidental ones, especially not first thing in the morning. [Oblivious to his thoughts, Anita leads the way to her front door and out into the hall.] So what'll it be, in or out?

Show me to where it is you prepare your meals and I shall make something for the both of us to apologize.

[Perhaps she might even kind enough to show him how to work whatever it is she used to prepare her meals since the more he sees, the less he finds himself familiar with.]

Really? [No one ever offers to cook for her.] Okay; thanks. I'd appreciate that. [And now, the kitchen!] Here we are.

[Give him a moment to just. Stare at the bits of metal, knobs, and many shiney things that make up the kitchen. There is no crackle or roar of a fire, no meat strung up on hooks. No sign of a root cellar.]

...I think you may have to show me where it is you keep your eggs and other assorted foodstuffs you usually eat in the morning, my dear Anita.

First Cut - It's the deepest, woah [Action/Voice] Backdated to this morning

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