Eighth turn - turn turn, there is a season turn, turn, turn [Video/Action]

[antivanleather]

[It starts with the woods. OR rather the canopy as there is some muttering in a familiar voice, if in an unfamiliar meter. ]

I know this is somewhat difficult to grasp, but I am no more comfortable than you and as soon as we have done this we might go about hiding until the change has reversed itself. Yes? Yes. I suppose having the book facing us would help in the first place-

[The view shifts, swinging to reveal Isaac sitting cross legged and not quite glaring at Zevran, wings pressed flat to his back. The inherent strangeness doesn’t kick in until Zevran speaks- with a cultured, vaguely British accent rather than the warm tones of his native Antivan.. ]

Or, we can say nothing at all. [Isaac suggests, his restless frustration with the situation tamped down in favour of feigning indifference with a one-shouldered shrug. Then he’s looking away, considering his perfectly ordinary set of nails. He can’t quite remember the last time he’s had them trimmed blunt as an adult.] I don’t imagine anyone shall curl into a ball and die if they hear not from either of us in the coming days.

I’ve no intention to hide, we are going to explain what has happened- [A beat, Isaac’s lips pressing thin as he flicks his fingers at the feed in an aborted gesture.] I have those that worry for me and I know Hector will worry for you.

[He snorts, the line of his jaw sharpening as he stares cooly ahead as if expecting Hector to step out from the brush. He might, for all Isaac knows. With a changed body comes a complete disconnection from the thread of demonic energy that had bound them across great distances. The world feels quieter, stranger, emptier.] He won't.

[It comes without missing a beat, low-voiced and level but unwaveringly certain, neither it nor the flat look in his eyes leaving any room for discussion.]

So this is what has come to pass: Isaac and myself have found ourselves in bodies that do not belong to us. Isaac in mine, I in his. [A beat.] This is Zevran.

[Isaac rests his chin in his palm, dully amused.] Really now.

This is Zevran Arainai and this wonderful elf to my right is Isaac in my skin. Please do not mistake us for one another. Once this is over I shall make another announcement.

Oh, how very thoughtful of you. [A gently mocking smile hovers on the edges of his lips, never reaching his eyes.] As for the rest of you, [His gaze drifts back to the screen] do try not to soil yourselves until then.

I do try. As we are not in our proper bodies all leather goods shall be a week late, and any goods Isaac owes will likewise be postponed as I do not know his craft, he does not know mine, and I find working with nails like this most challenging. Honestly, Isaac, how do you get anything done with them filed to such points?

Oh, you poor thing. [His lilting purr drips with honey, though the effect is not complete until he has clasped a hand to his chest and given a pitying toss of his head with it, eyes soft in sorrow. If his theatrics don’t cement his identity than he honestly doesn't know what would. Some things never change.]

Rosso- [He sighs as he flips the journal closed, ending the feed. This would be a long walk home.]

[Both men can be found wandering back to the village from whence they’d woken in search of proper clothing. “Isaac” in something that isn’t quite so low riding and made entirely of leather, “Zev” in - more of the opposite. After a brief stop in the clothing store and weapons store they will make their way to House 51 for the duration of their transformation.]

Comments

{Video}

[strikeoflightning]

{She watches the exchange, looking mildly amused.}

This is one of the village's more innocuous tricks. I would abstain from showering unless you are well acquainted with one another's bodies already.

{Video}

[antivanleather]

[ Zevran- in Ike's skin, cuts in before Isaac could make an already damning admission into something ragingly improper. ]

Fortunately we are familiar enough with one another for that to not be so terribly awkward, even if it has been some time.

{Video}

[strikeoflightning]

{Hey, she isn't going to judge.}

Then the discomfort should be slight. {More amusing than horrifying. Which is good.} I hope it does not last long for you.

{Video}

[relictusdeus]

[The Forgemaster - or erstwhile Forgemaster, given the circumstances - can't help throwing a glance Zevran's way as if to say, 'oh, you're no fun', but the smile curling his lips is tinged with far less amusement and much more wryness than he'd like. More than anything else it's their very familiarity that's a cause for discomfort.]

I suspect that it shall last a week's time... but a day longer at the very most.

[He's counting on it.]

{Video}

[strikeoflightning]

Thank you for broadcasting publicly. Knowing potential difficulties will better prepare us for the future.

{Lightning wouldn't be a joy if she found herself in another body.}

I don't know what I would do if I were in your position.

Written

[250mhzwabl]

[The most unsettling thing is that after almost two months of complete, deafening silence, Jack doesn't even need to audio of the transmission to know what's happened. It's already dawning on him by the time Zevran's lips finish moving the first time, and he stops the transmission, starting it from the top and watching the way syllables form on Isaac's lips, the curl of his tongue. One watch through affirms it, and he scans a second one numbly, trying to mentally parse what he can already tell by sight alone.

Isaac's face is moving like Zevran's does. And Zevran's is not moving like him at all.

He's quick to scribble out a reply.]

Are you both all right?

Aside from the obvious, I mean.

Written

[antivanleather]

It could be worse. I could be a cat. We'll be on our way to the house shortly, Argento. Mind your manners, mm? And warn Eugene. I would rather not come home to shouting.

Written

[250mhzwabl]

Absolutely. I'll make sure everyone knows.

[He hesitates a moment, then continues writing. Isaac said not to contact him unless he needed something, but hey. 'An answer or two' probably counts.]

Is there anything I can set up for Isaac rooming wise? Or you. I remember the space issue being tricky.

Written

[antivanleather]

Mm. The guest bedroom is full now that Sabriel has moved back in- but the sofas should be comfortable enough for us to bot sleep on. And. Trousers. This will be the only time I write this but I need trousers that are not leather.

[Voice]

[complicatedliar]

[He's actually less thrown than most, perhaps, because he can't see. He hears the different timbres of the voices, but the explanation it seems is simple. It's very easy to identify people by the patterns of their speech.]

You really need to work on your mix of self-pity and menace, Isaac dear. You're really missing the mark.

Honestly, the melodrama of this place. Just wear distinctive hats and go about your business. Everyone shall be too busy asking what your favorite summer cookie is. Or whatever nonsense is in fashion for the humans now.

[Voice]

[antivanleather]

...It sounds as though someone has had a less than pleasant morning. Dare I ask what has you so displeased this day?

[Voice]

[complicatedliar]

Nothing more than usual, Zevran. I have little patience for self-pity as spectacle.

[You can almost hear him roll his eyes.]

Nor for opportunities missed.

[Voice]

[relictusdeus]

Oh, Loki. [He tsks softly, shaking his head, before a sigh escapes him.] These are sad times when you are unable to find anyone else to listen to you reveling in the sound of your own voice.

APARTMENT ACTIONS

[antivanleather]

The visit to the house had been...strained, but not wholly unpleasant. They'd had time enough for Zevran to show Isaac his poison and trap workroom, to collect a few of less delicate of his projects and less lethal, a few of his furs, a few meals and bottles of wine, and a plethora of his knives. He's far more comfortable with these despite the hands he has not being his own for the moment.

Laying traps and tripwires around the apartment they've chosen for the week is quick work once he walks Isaac through their function and purpose; the Forgemaster is a quick study. Now that they're set with their food and furs and Zevran has the peace of mind to relax and actually listen-

He hears the whispers.

"...Do you hear that?"

aw yeeuh

[relictusdeus]

Among a Forgemaster’s greatest tools are his own hands. He had thought his own to be deft with the sleight of hand trickery he relied on to steal a great many materials and belongings from the castle’s denizens without drawing their attention. And for a human’s, they were. But these, Zevran’s, were on a different level of flexible and fluid in their movements, even more useful for the task of setting traps without catching his own fingers. And with their house visit behind them, Isaac’s all too eager to channel his restless energies into keeping them busy.

A number of these traps are familiar to him, several with Earthly equivalents or having been left in his possession upon Zevran’s departure months ago, and he almost feels at ease as he listens, trading thoughts and suggestions. It’s easy, methodical work, and time is never wasted when it’s invested in potentially lethal means of protection.

After, when they've finished, Isaac lies down with a newly-acquired sketchbook. But before he’s has the chance to do more than lazily trace a few lines, he catches the whispering. It could be anyone passing through the halls but his pen is still for the moment, attentiveness written in every line of his body. There’s no need to answer. A brief, shared glance is enough.

[250mhzwabl]

It had taken some doing, to talk Jack into visiting. It wasn't because he didn't miss Zevran (he did), or he didn't want to be there for him (god, did he ever), or even because the thought of him in a different body that he could not so much as hold the hand of (it was a lot, but nothing he wasn't willing to endure). None of those things could have stopped him. But the fact that Isaac was there, that he'd been favoured and all of them knew it - Jack could only imagine him watching them with Zev's eyes, twisting Zev's mouth into the cold smile of a victor.

That, he didn't think he could actually handle. But as he told himself, again and again, there was always the option to leave. So, tight alongside Eugene, bag with provisions held against his side, he knocked.

[z_jay]

Initially, a body swapping experience was not merely just a shock to those who were afflicted, but also those around them who weren't exactly sure how to handle those situations. The first time hadn't gone well, at all, and the stigma of his behavior lingered, causing a rift when it happened again. Eugene wasn't proud of what he'd done, but he also wasn't going to think his response out of the ordinary. Zombies back home were the reality, and generally he didn't believe in paranormal or body swapping things to be the realm of reality.

Here, however, empirical evidence had shown otherwise, and he wasn't going to cause more distress than already was. He had taken the quiet approach this time, allowing Zevran and Isaac to do as they felt they needed under the circumstances. It would be lying to think that their house was emptier, that their nights were more sleepless, and that his heart ached when he received messages from Zev, but he needed to be stronger this time than he was the last.

So he reached behind Jack and gave his back a light rub, just to let him know he was here, not alone, and they'd work through this together. No doubt, Jack understood this situation better than he ever would... and it was that which kept him in check.

[antivanleather]

The past few nights have not been restful. Between the odd body, how everything looked/smelled/tasted/felt wrong in all the worst ways, how he felt half blind and deaf and far too large, far too slow to do more than huddle on his chosen sofa and glare at the bits of stitching under his fingers that will not do what he wanted them to, Zevran was not at his best while in Isaac's skin. He meant to rest- drank teas to rest after he wrote his boys, but it wasn't enough to ease a strained mind.

The knock upon the door had him blinking at the wall, brow quirked for a moment before the familiar sound clicked.

Jack.

As much as he could not help his frustrations with fingers that were too long and nails too pointed he could not restrain a blissful, adoring smile from cracking across his face. He did not vault over the back of the sofa- he'd tried it once before and nearly upended himself with legs longer than he needed to have, much to Isaac's amusement. No vaulting was done. Walking carefully around before hauling the door open, that was done.

"Jack! Eugene!" He reached out before his mind caught up with him to touch- how so much he wanted to touch; but no. These were not his hands, not his eyes or lips to use as he would. His hands stiffened and fell to his side when he caught himself at the reflexive action, smile dimming somewhat. "Please. Come in. Rosso, We've company."

OTHER APARTMENT ADVENTURES

[relictusdeus]

[There was a time when he had wanted normalcy like this. Eyes and hair of a colour not of the devil’s lot; skin that hadn’t the pallor of the dead; a body that didn’t thrum with forces once beyond his understanding. He had ached to be like any other human, prayed for it so fiercely, so desperately, he knows he’d have torn out a man’s throat with his teeth as a little boy if God had told him to. If it had somehow meant earning a place among townsfolk and not having to live in the woods like an animal. But those days have long since passed. And it’s strange - so strange - being bereft of any and all magic and possessing a mind so quiet and still now, a space filled by his thoughts alone.

Isaac scrubs wearily at his face, aware of the hard shape of the sheathed daggers tucked under his pillow when he rolls onto his side for the fifth time in half as many minutes.

He’s free.

For that reason alone he should be sleeping soundly.]

WOO

[antivanleather]

[ Being half blind and half deaf should have made it simpler to sleep. Should have. but didn't. There's an uncomfortable energy rolling through his veins he doesn't know how to handle, every shift and slide under the sheets feels raw and dull at the same time- and then? The voices. Whispering over and over every black and bitter thought he'd had. It's one thing to think it- another to hear it in sickly sweet words promising that they care. That they love him. That they will never, ever leave him.

By the end of another half hour of empty sleep he swears under his breath and sits up, scrubbing at his eyes. Isaac, in his skin, should be sleeping. But does not seem to be. ]

How do you manage it?

[relictusdeus]

[Isaac listens, tinglingly awake, to the ruffling of sheets and furs and to the curse whispered into the darkness. But it's not until the question comes that he cracks his eyes half-open and blinks his blurred vision to some semblance of clarity until Zevran’s silhouette – his silhouette - emerges from the shadows. He stares long, flatly, his side rising and falling.

Incubi had assumed his form and mimicked him to his face every so often -- but, even so, hearing another’s commentary in the timbre of his voice and watching his scarred lips curl around words and his head turn and body shift in ways independent of his will remains as strange as before.]

There isn’t a choice in the matter.

[He says, his voice low. A blanket answer for the small handful of things Zevran might be referring to.]

[antivanleather]

Is it like this all hours of every day? These...voices.

[ They were not simply a product of his mind, were they? They couldn't be. Even in the dark he knows he shouldn't hear anything that Isaac cannot hear in his own skin. This is-

They cannot be real.

But he prays all the same that they are. That he's not entirely mad. ]

Knock knock~

[thebellthatbinds]

[Later in the week on an afternoon when Sabriel's sure that one of the other housemates is home to look after both bird and pup she makes a trip out to the apartment the bodyswapped men have been keeping to. She's not making the trip empty handed though, inside a large insulated lunchbox she has at least a meal's worth of food and drink for them. It's something simple but it's the thought that counts, right?

Slowing to a stop in front of the apartment door she gives it a knock and waits.]

Who's there?

[antivanleather]

It is unlocked-

[ Now he can vault over the back of the sofa and not stumble. Now he can move to the door easily without wondering every other motion why everything feels so wrong. Now he can hold the door open an smile and have it feel close to right. It's amazing what a few days will earn. ]

Bella Nota! How good it is to see you.

Hatch.

[thebellthatbinds]

[It takes Sabriel a moment after the door has opened for her to smile warmly at the greeting. It was still hard to look at Isaac's face and thing 'Zevran' but hearing him speak helped.]

It's good to see you too, Zev. And- [She gathers up the lunch box into her arms to offer it over.] I've come bearing gifts for you two.