antivanleather | Sixth jump - you should know, you should know that [Action/Written]

Sixth jump - you should know, you should know that [Action/Written]

[Action, locked to Isaac]

[This is not how Zevran imagined the first few hours of his freedom would be. The wine and the feasting and the drinking the day before, certainly. But the first morning after he had finished collecting his effects and bidding farewell to the Warden he intended to spend on the road. Leaving Ferelden for warmer climes. He did not intend to wake in a cell.

And yet, here he is, despite the best intentions. He wakes slowly arms flexing against his restraints and he keeps his head for the first few moments. Just manacles. Just a cold, dark cave like many that the Crows preferred to use for their longer imprisonments. But were this the Crows he would be dead, that went without saying. No, no. This is a personal vendetta- which leaves Zevran free to consider who it is he pissed off this time to earn such attentions while he works at attempting to lean just enough so that he might pull a pick from his hair. That he has none is worrying.

That there is no manner in which the manacles might be removed is of a greater concern. But when he finds that they actually constrict when he attempts to twist his thumb enough to pop it out of place and holds him all the tighter- then. Then he panics.

Crows are terrible. Nobles are worse. Mages, those that yet live and wish him dead? Horrify him and he used to be better at fighting down the swell of cold fear and the anxious ratcheting of his heart. Used to be able to laugh through it, to grin and smile and shrug off torment such as sensory deprivation and capture. It is cold. It is dark. He is alone. He is held by a mage he cannot recall at the moment and after all that he witness at the final battle in Denerim that is what makes him shift in earnest, rattle his chains and lash out with a foot to find purchase- he finds that his feet are bare and the wall is solid, little more. Brasca.]

[Action, Open]

[Later, when he is freed and his personal effects returned, when he realizes where he is in earnest and is armored and armed and less out of sorts Zev ducks into the Coffee Shop for a cup of something hot and bitter, leaving a rather short note in the journal for whoever might have missed him, though save a bare handful he cannot imagine it would be many. He does not even know if they yet remain.]

While I am pleased to have found my way back to this delightful village, I think awaking in a random bed might have been the better introduction. At least it was warm.

Fondest regards,

Zevran

[After some time spent reacquainting himself with the village's map he, warily, makes his way to House 51.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Even if it was just the same, something was so different about hearing that from someone who wasn't Jack. It briefly made his stomach twist and he faltered a little, just on his face. It's nothing serious, but perhaps later, once they're settled it can be sorted]

It... kind of was my livelihood before, except I was doing the eating. And there's Jack, please try to remember him before we get home.

[The earring-- he nodded and absently reached up to rub the earring he had as well, still present as he hadn't the heart to remove it even when Zev had been removed...]

Yup, along with your things. What, did you think we'd just throw out some useful equipment for anyone to pick through?

[He says useful, because sentiment for Zev, was a bit of a curse]

Moca Mio. and Argento Mio.

[More shards flit into place and he dares. Weary and hollow as he is he dares to look over, to curl his fingers in Eugene's. He's uncertain of his welcome but more than willing to try. If it's permitted he tugs that hand up to his mouth, brushing his lips against the back of it.]

Ma'arlath, ma'nen, ma'vhenan, ma'arla.

[He remembered that night. The earrings. The promise.]

Of course I remember Jack. He kicks off the pillows, bites my shoulder, hangs upon you like a limpet and- loves you. With everything in him. It is a wonder to see.

[Hand held, Eugene slowed his walking somewhat, his gait even now... thanks to Jack and Tasha-- and some of Bucky to keep Eugene working on regaining 100% of both his legs. But he wasn't as acutely aware of that now as he was of the dagger-callused hand twining fingers with his own.

He wanted to believe this was true, but things tended to be too good to be. He stopped altogether when Zevran brushed his lips over the back-- breath held.]

Yep, I'm moca. But people do commonly call me Gene or Eugene if you want to as well...

[Something still lingered, unsure and quiet, but not overwhelming.]

Have you contacted him at all?

Eugene I may have forgotten this place save for stretches and shards, and I may not have remembered you entirely just yet- but I do remember you. I am sorry that I have forgotten...and sorry that I was away for so long. Treating me as you once did, asking that of you- is unkind and I do not expect it...but you need not look upon me as you would a stranger.

[Were there anything he could do to take that time back- he would. But such things are not in his power.]

I did not remember him or you entirely until I saw you and the ring you wear. I woke- I woke. I dressed. I wrote a message when I remembered the village and ordered coffee- which is when I saw and remembered you.

[For now, this was better than a completely blank look from Zevran. It put his mind at ease, somehow. Not all had been lost, but he did wonder, where all this would lead? His smile reached his eyes this time, looking appropriately sheepish]

I suppose we should fix that quickly, then. But-- seriously, Zev. You look like you've seen better days. Come home and have a shower. We'll figure out the rest later.

[He gave Zevran's hand a squeeze, at that, something meant to reassure, and also give him the leverage to tug him to follow. It still hadn't hit him, that Zevran was in fact, returned to them, whole-- and maybe not as sound as before, but that was something they could work with]

I have fought a war. It was...wearying. But we were victorious. Thedas is safe. We won.

[And having someone, something to come back to- that makes it easier to cope with. Makes it simpler and neater than having a long stretch of absolutely nothing on hand for the future.]

...I would appreciate that a great deal. The day is cold and the morning has been a long one. Perhaps I might make us some drinking chocolate? With brandy.

Fighting a war is a very worthy cause to go back home.

[His tone is teasing, in as much as he's hoping to bring something lighthearted to this. It had the potential to be... well, jostling. But they were now at the entrance to house 51 and Eugene held the door open for Zevran.

Instead of two months, Zev looked to have aged several years... it wasn't too drastic, but the hollows under his eyes, and the gaunt way his face had become versus the lean from before...]

I'll get some ready, have a seat. Make yourself at home.

[he simply needed rest. And a good meal. And a loving home. None of which he would have thought could be his so soon let alone at all and yet here he stood in the doorway of a home all his own, led by a man he loved dearly. He couldn't help the wary smile.]

Thank you, Moca.

[He dares enough to curl his fingers in Eugene's and press a kiss to the back of his hand before stepping inside, slowly stripping out of his leathers at a stand he is pleased to see remains. When he is down to leather trousers and a loosely woven cotton shirt he wanders in deeper, finding his favorite sofa to curl upon in fond memory.]

[It seems too good to be true, watching Zevran settle his things back where they once were, and Eugene couldn't help but watch him from the doorway in silence. There was a brief fear, the sort that crept through his stomach and found its way to the base of his head, that this wasn't real. Like he'd wake up any moment and blink away the vestiges of a dream.

The brush of lips on the back of his hand had been warm, though. Warm and sincere in the affection it had been given as. Zev was casual with affection, but not all of them were superficial.

Preparing Zev's drink was simple, and relatively quick, because in short order he was placing it within hand's reach of Zev, grinning as he took a seat opposite. Not for distance's sake, but so that Zev could sprawl, if he were so inclined.]

So, win a war. What's it like?

[sprawl he did- stretched out all long and lean and lazy like a tanned cat on familiar cushions. He remembered helping them pick out the sofa, helping them move it to this exact spot for how the light would pour through the windows and warm the entirety of it. A sunbeam for a Crow. He's not left alone long enough to doze but he's halfway there all the same when Eugene returns, the smile he offers open and lazy.]

The war or the winning? The war was horrible, as most wars are. The winning? I do not think the truth of it has sunk in yet. There were ceremonies and drinking and dining and dancing but I was simply struck by the fact that I have no where to march, no target to kill, no goal for the first time since I was seven.

[It wouldn't do to have only Zev with a drink of hot chocolate, so Eugene also had one for himself]

Kind of feel at loose ends? Not sure where to turn next? Or maybe how you fit into this new world?

[It was better than the terrible truth of loss... but even a victory, at too high a cost, can be just as traumatic as loss.]

I mean, you don't have to think about these things right now. Frankly, I'd prefer you just settle in and wait for Jack-- don't tell him. I want to see the look on his face.

I do not know what I should do with myself. I suppose I could go into business on my own, pick my targets as I like and continue going forward that way but the idea of continuing to murder for a living leaves me weary.

[He sighs and shifts to sit up enough to sip his drinking chocolate, moaning in the back of his throat. A little slice of home, of Antiva and of Moca.]

Mm- when does he return home? I suppose he may have seen what I wrote earlier but...

[After seeing what Zev had written, there had been nothing for it but some time at the battle dome. Jack's coming home still frustrated and heartsick, still bewildered and dreading the first time he sees Zev on the street, but at least he's tired enough that the feelings aren't thrashing around in him hard enough to break something.

W.G. over his shoulder, he opens the locks on the door, pushing it open with a low sigh and a call inward.]

Eugene! You-?

[And that's as far as he gets into asking if Eugene is home yet. Because there's no missing not one but two figures on the couch, and his mouth goes dry to see them together, Zev back in their house and drinking from their mugs like . . . like . . .

Dryly, he swallows, eyes flitting between Eugene and Zevran as hope and confusion war across his face, pulse pounding in his ears.]

Speak of the devil...

[Eugene hadn't seen a message, he'd been busy working at the café, but he'd heard Jack's voice and turned to look over at him, giving him a roguish grin.]

Look what I found!

[He slid to standing and jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward Zevran. He'd expected the shock, but the confusion...? Jack hardly ever looked this unsure without good reason, and Eugene felt just a flit of panic, himself]

...He's not hurt, or... I haven't done a thorough examination or anything. Care to help...?

Moca... I made no mention of either of you in my written message to the village. I did not remember you to be able to do so.

[And he's sorry for it, truly and deeply. Zev twists in his seat, setting the mug down with a soft murmur of apology as he stands to extend an arm to Jack properly.]

But I remember you now. Most of you. Though I could do with a thorough reminder?

[And isn't there something inherently wrong with him sounding so uncertain? With him asking permission when it had never been something he'd ever had to ask before in their shared past?]

[Didn't remember? Cohabitating and practically married and he didn't remember? Jack glances at Eugene, trying to muster up a smile to meet his grin, though the effort was strained and half-effective at best. But at the same time, whatever the state of his memory . . . this was Zevran. And Jack couldn't imagine a Zevran who would walk willingly into this kind of situation (any situation where he couldn't charm or stab his way through the trouble) if he didn't consider it absolutely essential.

That was the only thought he apparently needed, because he was dropping his gym bag the moment it came to him, steps speeding as he walked closer and, without a word, slung his arms around both of their shoulders in something that was half-huddle, half-hug, and probably involved W.G. poking Eugene in the back. That was fine, though - not the first time, probably not the last. His focus was more on Zev, anyway, leaning close and addressing him intently, eyes just beginning to shine wet with too many turbulent emotions to name.]

All right then, here's your reminder. I'm Jack Holden, he's Eugene Woods, and this right here is our home. All right?

Edited 2013-11-30 19:22 (UTC)

[The flicker of something that didn't quite match the smile worried Eugene a little, but it was brushed aside in favor of the hug that was presented, Jack's slighter frame demanding he invade his personal space.

The simplest things were the best place to start, and Eugene had to commend Jack for keeping his cool despite the subtle sheen to them. Too many nights he'd seen him in that state to not know any better as to what he was holding back]

You actually did redecorate a lot of the interior. It's been... kind of hard, with you gone.

[He kept from adding too much, however, on account of Jack looked as though he needed something vital that only Zev could give him in this moment. Affirmation? Recognition? Probably sentiment, most of all.]

Argento Mio.

[He turns enough to lean into Jack, to brush his lips along that familiar jaw. The face that haunted him in his dreams before come to warm, lovely life. This is true. This is real. This is far more than he had ever hoped to deserve and yet he has it. For now, for however long they yet remain. Forehead to Jack's shoulder he mumbles, a snippet of a heated night on the beach.]

Sono tuo, amore mio.

[Away and back to Eugene, a tentative brush of his lips against Eugene's cheek, tripping against his jaw because he has missed them both. Their kindness, their compassion, their vitality.]

I am sorry. I never meant to leave- I never meant to forget.

Shhh, hey. It's okay.

[Jack feels an almost-laugh tumble out of him, and he rubs his face against he doesn't know what in the tangle, Eugene's forehead or Zev's cheek, but it ends up with a smear of wetness as he finally loses the control keeping the tears entirely at bay and his voice less than hoarse.]

You just freaked me out is all. Us. Freaked us out.

It's... not like you can exactly control that, Zev.

[Far from him to point out the obvious, but there were things that Luceti did to test the mettle of anyone. Still, he smiled at the brushed kiss against him, felt complete in a way he hadn't realized he'd missed. But he cleared his throat and poked Jack in the side-- a jab which wasn't subtle because he was going to need a shower, too...]

Why don't you help Zev get the bath ready?

Only if you mean to join me.

[It's almost hopeful, the flirtatious comment. Said without his usual bravado and utter certainty. It's been some time, and he has missed them dearly but- so long. And he'd forgotten.]

[Jack laughs lightly, swatting Eugene's hand and taking the welcome excuse to step back and give his eyes a quick scrub]

Why wouldn't we? I just finished up at the battle dome and Gene - ha, Gene's like hugging a bag of coffee beans if he doesn't rinse off after work. [He tugs them after him, grinning.] Not the best combination.

The best combinations come in threes. Three-course meal, heard of it? Anyway...

[Okay, that came out of his mouth before his brain to mouth filter could stop him and he ducked out of the embrace, tugging his shirt off in the process to give them both a very good idea of where he was headed. The bathroom, for a bath, more specifically]

I don't know about you two losers, but I'm going to get a bath started.

I still have a bit of travel grime on myself-

[And he is promptly distracted by the naked expanse of Eugene's back as he walks away. He stutters to a stop, swallows and just. Leans after him for a long moment while watching the play of muscles under his skin, the ruffle of his feathers and, oh thank the Maker his body is as it should be.]

Jack- Naked? Naked is the plan. Naked is good.

[Shirt? Gone. Whipped up and off without an ounce of shame in the slightest as he tugs Jack along by his collar.]

[Jack is similarly distracted by the retreating line of Eugene's back, and only looks to the blur of motion that is Zev disrobing in time to avoid being pulled onto his face by the hand that fists into his collar. Laughing, he stumbles after them, finding that there's not much more he can do than undo his belt and fly while Zev is marching him into the bathroom.]

Bossy, bossy.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject