antivanleather | Fourth Step - back from that ledge my friend, you could cut ties with all the lies that [action]

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Fourth Step - back from that ledge my friend, you could cut ties with all the lies that [action]

[He'd been living in...a state of frustration the past month. Of denial. But with a week and some spent in the wilderness in tail end of winter Zevran sought to reconnect with the cold hollow that the Crows instilled in him at an early age, one that time with the Warden and several months here had worn away. Filled with food and restful sleep and pleasurable company. With sentiment. It was not something he could afford, that sentiment, that desire for companionship beyond the odd body in his bed or verbal spar. To want comrades was something a Crow did not do, and as much as he wasn't pleased by the guild wanting him dead back home he was still very much one of them. Old habits died hard after all.

Hunting, tracking, setting a spartan camp and keeping mobile- avoiding all others that might have been hunting, forsaking the company of his fellow villagers did little more than weigh upon the elf and leave him far too much time to think over the events leading up to and just after that odd valentine's shift. How he'd handled it, or rather hadn't. The conversation he'd had with Isaac just before leaving, or rather the argument. The time between then and now did little to sooth the ire it'd caused. He'd lost something there.

He didn't know he cared enough to get it back.]

[Days away and he'd intended to remain so for awhile longer but the fall of snow urges him back to the village. Bundled along with his camping gear on his back are furs that need to be trimmed and roots, dried meat and bundles of flesh from what animals he'd trapped and butchered while hunting. It's a fairly sizable stash of hunting loot if he did say so himself, and he's far too much to keep to himself. Perhaps after he cleans up he'll offer the finished furs or bits of wrapped meat to his neighbors, or any that stop him along his path. He waves his way in from the south, past the battle dome and up through the plaza to stop in the grocery store for a few vegetables, perhaps a bottle of wine to go with the meat he's still carrying, and then he makes his way back to community house 7.

The normally boisterous and cheerful elf is weary and quiet, without any quick smile or laugh to crack at those he passes. His leathers are grubby from time in the woods, his boots scuffed, his hair a loosely braided mess. He'll make conversation if someone engages him, and he will be polite enough, perhaps even offer a cutlet of venison or dirty joke if the company is pleasant.]

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[He mulls this over for a long moment before pulling a relatively simple jeweled earring from his pouch and hefting it in his hand. Protection and sentiment. What a combination. After a moment he offers it over with a quick grin.]

I think this will suffice.

[Max takes the earring and looks it over for a moment before nodding, flashing a quick grin at Zevran.]

It'll work perfectly. Give me a couple of days. I'm still working out the power limits here. But it'll work.

Good to know.

[A few days...he can manage without that trinket for a few days. It's the one thing they never took from him and the one thing he's had on him since his first kill. Odd that a bit of shine could hold so much meaning.]

I'll do my best to not need it.

[His gaze flicks back up to Zevran, and he frowns a little. It's important then? Not just a trinket.]

I'll take good care of it, I promise.

I know you will. You're a good man, Max. I remember that much from the shift.

[That makes him swallow thickly, going quiet and still for a moment.]

I- about that, Zevran... I'm sorry. For... I dunno. Everything. [He doesn't even know what had happened, but he feels like he's led Zevran on somehow.]

It is no fault of yours. Apparently it is something of a tradition in this place to cause such discomforts.

[Truly, of the three of the men he'd spent most of his time with- Max is the one he has the easiest time rationalizing. Because it's faded.]

Unless you truly wish to console me with a night in your bed, we are good.

Yeah, that's what I've heard from various people. Still...

[He smiles a little at that, a warm expression.]

Y'know, if you'd asked me that before this whole thing... I mean, you're really hot. Just...

[He shakes his head.]

But I'm glad. That we're good. You're a good guy.

I never said you had to be in it with me.

[Oh the teasing, the smirking and the teasing, it helps him feel a little more like how he should be. Max is just as much a victim as he is and he can't do much other than extend a hand in greeting.]

Shall we try to start fresh and move forward without that mess lingering over us?

[Okay, that makes him laugh, something easing inside him. When Zevran holds out his hand, Max takes it, giving it a firm squeeze.]

I think that would be a good idea. So... Hi. I'm Max. Pleased to meet you.

Zevran Arainai, Zev to my friends. It is good to meet you, Max.

[Zev offers the man's hand a hearty shake rather than the flirtatious and sultry touches of before.]

Zev then. I hope that's okay.

Were you after food or something? I can clear some of this stuff up if you need the table.

...I think I would like to cook some of this venison, yes. Doing so over an open flame is much more difficult now that I have experienced the wonder of a proper stove. Have you any requests?

Venison. Well, I'm hardly going to argue against that.

[He starts collecting his things together, putting them away safely so Zevran has space to work.]

Gotta love real appliances, definitely. Now if we could get a microwave and a proper kettle. Uh, I am honestly good with anything. I... guess I forgot to eat actually.

I do not know how I managed for so long without them.

[He pulls out a thick cutlet and starts patting around the nearest drawer for a cutting board. As for a knife, well, he pulls one from seemingly nowhere, likely he had it on his person, and goes about slicing it thinly.]

Do you care for spice, Max?

They do make life a hell of a lot easier, I have to say.

[Max moves his things out of the way and goes to stand nearby. He's not sure what Zevran has in mind and his cooking skills haven't really improved from his time as a student.]

Spice, yes. I'm a fan of curries.

Curries?

[It's not a food he's heard much of, to be honest. At least not in anything that relates to something he's seen or made before.]

What can you tell me of 'curries'?

[His hands move quickly as he asks, taking a pinch of salt, a little of this herb, a bit of that powder, a slab of butter from the fridge and setting a pan to heat on the stove.]

It's kind of... um, a bastardised version of Indian food. It's really popular in England where I'm from.

[He watches as Zevran starts to make... whatever it is he's making.]

What I'm used to is usually meat in a spicy and hot sauce. Eat it with rice.

I'm afraid both of those are countries I know nothing of outside what has been told to me by Jack.

[Zevran shrugs and continues to pluck out seasonings, adding a but of butter and flour to the pan, a dash of cream once that thickened, and sets to dicing some pepper's he'd found in the fridge.]

A thick sauce? Does it taste of tomato or cream or...?

Ah well, me and Jack are both from England, Britain. India used to... to belong to Britain. Now they're equal partners. At least in my world.

[He thinks for a moment because it isn't as though he's ever really paid much attention to the makeup of curry.]

Um, more yogurt, I think? Or... oh, coconut milk.

Ah, They took over because they thought they knew better than the native savages, yes?

[It shouldn't sound so flippant, so cheerful, and yet he manages it somehow. When one truly doesn't care one way or the other, what's the harm.]

I think...mm. We have yogurt in the fridge- I trust it is not the sort that is flavored to taste of fruit.

Yeah. Pretty much. Did that to a lot of countries. It was a really big empire.

[He goes over to the fridge and pulls out a tub. It's one of those with packaging that he doesn't recognise, but it seems like it would work.]

I think it's good.

There was such an empire in place for centuries a long while ago in my world as well.

[Though it was a long, long while ago. Zev holds his hand out for the tub and offers Max a quick grin.]

I think I also saw something called 'curry powder' in one of the cabinets.

Yeah? There have been quite a lot in the history of my world. it's a pretty bloody and warfilled history.

[He hands the tub over, smiling back and then turns to root around in the cupboards until he finds the curry powder and other assorted spices.]

Yeah, curry powder. Perfect for totally authentic inauthentic Indian food.

The most interesting countries have a surplus of war. It keeps business going, at the very least.

[Zev gives each spice a quick sniff and taste, smiling, hmming, or frowning depending upon what it was. After a moment he adds a liberal amount of the curry powder, a bit of this, a bit of that, simmers the venison and adds the creamy yogurt to the hot red sauce.]

We allow this to simmer- and that will give us time enough for the rice.

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