Seventh Sin - Make me strong, down you go, suffer long, down you go [Video]

[antivanleather]

[The feed opens with Zevran sitting across from the journal, various leather made wares set out before him. Gloves of various kinds, a coat or two, belts embossed and dyed, wristbands, water bottles and other wares are arranged for optimal viewing. All have a similar style to them, an artful richness to the embossing, embroidering, and dye.]

Good Evening, Luceti.

[He offers the feed a winning smile and a loose, fluid gesture to the assortmant of leather wares, a bit of a 'there you have it' in the motion.]

As I've had plenty of time on my hands the past few months and the means to do so I've made a few items too many while experimenting with different techinques of leather working and find I've a talent for it. The workmanship is solid if I do say so myself and I would be willing to do custom orders if you wished for something more lasting and complicated. If you see anything here that you like, please let me know and I will wrap and send it to you. If you want something made for a special occasion let me know where to meet with you so we may discuss the particulars. I promise I am quite discreet-

[There's a loud, somewhat unpleasant squwacks from just offcamera. Zevran sighs and mutters under his breath in Antivan, reaching behind him to lift up an ungainly lump of grey down and flailing limbs. The little raven screeches once he rolls about Zevran's palm, nipping at his fingers.]

This little uccello's name is Savio. He is not much to look at, I know, but he's a clever thing for a mass of feathers and talons. Perhaps in another month he will be more handsome, yes?

Comments

[thelittlemacthatcould]

[The kid glances back blankly but expectantly, vaguely reminded of those so-called palm readers many people claimed were con-artists as he waits patiently for Zevran to break the silence. And when he does, Mac is tempted to say that his wrists are stronger than they look and that the way Doc wrapped them up made them especially tough. But he just looks at his hand with a sort of renewed appreciation for a moment, lips twisting into a vaguely wry smile after a beat.]

Bet you seen some real big, heavy hands, huh?

[He spends every day painfully aware that he's smaller than the vast majority of seventeen year olds - to say nothing of other boxers - and has learned to try and work that understanding into his sense of humour every now and again. Still, after all this time, there's a sting that comes with being reminded of his ongoing, uphill struggle to be taken as seriously as any other man, even if he's the one telling the joke. Maybe if he says it first, he'll beat someone else to the punch. Maybe if he says it first, it'll stop hurting one day.]

[antivanleather]

Big, heavy hands for big, unkind men. Yes.

[it's an afterthought more than anything, something to say to pass the conversation along as he takes the next few measurements around Mac's wrist, the line from the heel of his hand to the tips of his fingers, the width of his fingers, the breadth of his hand. Every possible way there is to measure a hand? Zevran measures it, and further along up to his elbow just to be certain of proportion and stitching.]

These though. Lighter. Denser. Better suited to quick attacks, yes? To dart in for a blow and out again whereas larger opponents would have to lumber in slowly to try to land a hit. But when they swing- you aren't there. Mm? Quick and clever. It is the wiser course in a battle. It saves you energy and time. And I am willing to bet none of your opponents ever expect the power that you do have to come from someone of your stature, yes?

[The smile he tilts at Mac over his knuckles is mischievous. Conspiratorial.]

Their underestimation of your abilities is their downfall.

[thelittlemacthatcould]

[For a moment he can only stare back, at loss for what to say because he doesn't know of any stranger who has ever glanced at him and considered his advantages and talents in the ring first. Even Doc hadn't when they had crossed paths in the back room of the club after he had fought 'Crusher' Cohen.]

Lemme tell ya... I ain't met a lot of people out there who think like you do. [And it's just this sort of observation that could make any underdog's day, lighting that fire underneath them and giving them just right sort of push.]

[antivanleather]

I've learned to make a tool out of having people underestimate me on a regular basis. With my build I don't have the same power a human might- as such I rely upon speed, precision, and skill. I dare say were you and I to throw a punch you would have more power behind it, easily.

[Still he smiles.]

The larger a man? The bigger the target. The more bulk to his blows the slower they are thrown.

[thelittlemacthatcould]

[While he’s sorry Zevran is able to relate, it doesn’t feel like it’s often when someone can and he’s glad, guiltily, that Zevran understands the challenge of living in a world where many people think less of you for something you can’t control.]

Well, y’know, it’s like what Doc says… strength ain’t everythin’.

[He smiles back, scratching his head with his free hand.]

Though you’d be kinda surprised about big guys, least the fighters I’ve seen. Mr. Sandman was big and fast. But that’s why he was the champ.

[antivanleather]

That comes with practice.

[He huffs one last soft laugh before finishing up his measurements and returning his attention to the gloves in question, slipping one on long enough to feel how they rest on the inside.]

How are these stuffed? Firm or with a little give?

[thelittlemacthatcould]

[It's the sort of thing he never really thinks about, so accustomed by now to the weight and the feel of the glove.] It's pretty firm. ...Thanks again for doin' this, sir. I don' know what I can give you but I'm gonna think of somethin'. [A pause.] Got anythin' in mind?

[antivanleather]

Please, call me Zev. And as I said, I enjoy a challenge. This is new to me and something I think i will enjoy creating. As for payment? Sparring now and then, perhaps. I have been remiss in working in my hand to hand and you are probably just as if not more quick than I am.

[thelittlemacthatcould]

[Whatever he's told, he will approach the fight expecting Zev to be at least as quick as him. It's never wise to underestimate the opposition.]

Guess we're jus' gonna have to wait an' see, sir. Sorry, I mean-- Zev. Maybe when you finish the gloves, I can test 'em out with you at the dome. Go a couple rounds, y'know?