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

[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."

[relictusdeus]

This was Zevran’s moment to enjoy, one he had clearly been aching for from the start, and with the location of their chosen apartment being no secret it was only a matter of time before it'd come. Isaac turns his attention back to his book, looking to lose himself in some new and meaningful project.

“How nice.” He offers distantly without missing a beat or lifting his eyes, and it's among the kindest answers he could have given.

Strangely, the absence of whispering devils in his mind brings none of the peace he’d have expected. Even though they had striven to wear away his defenses, little by little, at every waking moment, he’s beginning to miss the white-noise of their meshing voices filling a now-empty space, so powerful at times it could blot out every other thought vying for attention.

He frowns at the page, pen making sharper, more decisive strokes.

What he wouldn't do for one short, sweet little moment of it.

[250mhzwabl]

No matter how much he intellectually understands that Zevran is within Isaac's skin, there is still an unguarded moment when the door flings open and shows his face twisted into unfamiliar and still horribly familiar delight, and Jack feels bewilderment shock through him before he really properly remembers. It lasts just long enough to leave him still while those hands are offered and just as quickly snatched back, as if thrust too close to a flame, and he tries to breathe around the heartsick lump that threatens to rise in his throat.

It sinks again, and he smiles, reaching back to squeeze Eugene's hand as he lifts his bag with the other one. "Thought you might like a bit to eat. And drink. And . . . geez, I don't know, what else did we cram in here, Gene? Books?

[z_jay]

"Books, a few tools for leatherwork, some fancy pens, a few knicknacks to pass the time," he did a mental recap, both of them having done an inventory before they came over. It was calming, to put things in order and mark them off a list. "We weren't sure if your tastebuds would respond the same? So we're hoping the food helps." It was slightly heartbreaking to see the initial delight dampened by circumstance. And that same guilt from before snuck into the back of his mind about unconditional. Zevran had been right. But this was hopefully temporary and they'd weather this storm.

His smile is softer than he expected it to be, feeling a strong empathy for Zevran... and Isaac, to be in their respective positions. "You two doing alright? Gosh, I sound like a parent..."

[antivanleather]

"Nothing tastes right. Nothing too heavy for him, nothing from the side herb garden for me." He doesn't think they'd poison Isaac inadvertently through him; but he would rather not risk it. All the same he steps aside to wave them in to the common room. It was a quiet enough day thusfar, even with the whispering.

That they'll never want him again now that he's been in this skin, that he's a pet not a partner, that he's a dalliance, a fling, that nothing they said was true but these words, these sweetly venomous words were true and honest and real and they would never, oh how they would never leave him alone.

As he has every other moment before he steels himself with a tight grit jaw. Sucks out a breath and smiles through it, because he can. "We are well. He is taking to my natural dexterity better than I had expected, and I- am trying not to accidentally teleport about. It was startling enough the first time."

[relictusdeus]

Isaac minds his own business a moment longer, uninterested in watching lovers fuss over one another and inevitably feeling like someone pressing his face to a window to see how warm it is inside. He’s doubtful that he’s honestly being invited and drawn into the conversation by way of ‘you two’, and is similarly under no illusion that courtesy extended to him here is more than an act. A human simply doesn’t go from spitting indignation on a battlefield to sympathy when, from what he knows and has heard, there wasn't much of the latter to begin with.

Even so, Isaac decides he can play the game of politesse just as well. "We are doing swimmingly," He lilts from across the room, despite Zevran having already addressed the question. Perhaps he hadn’t trusted him to keep from rocking an already dangerously unsteady boat. He couldn’t blame him for that. “…all things considered.”

Unable to see much of the bag or its contents he makes a point of craning his neck, brows lifting slightly.

“Is that an apple?”

[250mhzwabl]

Jack's unused to the way Isaac's face makes words, but he thinks he gets the important words. Nothing, heavy, garden, well . . . and one more that takes a moment to parse out before he remembers his own time having traded skins with Isaac. Zevran's acknowledgement of newfound magical appendages drags a snort of out him, and he steps inside, grinning crookedly. "Is it just teleporting for you? Lucky. I definitely set a few things on fire the first day."

He chances a glance to Isaac, but there's no smirk there, no sneer, just a reserve that looks so odd on a form he usually associated with languid intentional carelessness. "Apple? Yeah." He looks into the bag, then draws out the mesh bag of produce, lifting it up. "Few of those, box of berries, some peaches . . ."

[z_jay]

That nothing tasted right made Eugene frown in thought, and something more, but he was careful to keep from looking pitying. He had the impression neither party would take that well. He really couldn't imagine how it must feel, being the only one of the four of them who hadn't had an out of body experience. He was here to try and smooth things over where he could, and he was resolved to that.

Right now, he felt like an intruder in a place he couldn't hope to understand. But for Zevran and Jack, he'd endure it. He finally looked over at Isaac, feeling an odd sensation settle in the base of his spine as he heard him talk with not-Zev's cadence. It was jarring.

"Figured some fruit and other things that don't need prep might be good for you both."

[antivanleather]

"Fruit is always acceptable- unless they make either of us ill. In which case shame on you for such clumsy attempts at poison, I have taught you both better by now." Zev breezes back to the coffee table once the door is locked behind them, fetching plates from a shelf off to the side. He's slowly growing more accustomed to this skin, these hands, enough so to feel confident when he returns to lounge upon the sofa.

"Please say you brought cheese. I wish to know what it is like using this tongue. Apparently it's quite appetizing to Isaac." That much is innocent enough to share, yes? yes.

[relictusdeus]

He glances between them with the cool, quiet calm of someone prepared for war when Zevran steals the joke weighing on the tip of his tongue and leaves him with nothing but a smile tugging gently at one corner of his mouth. This is Zevran saying it, though, and lovers are afforded a level of permissiveness he couldn’t hope to be shown - and never expected from anyone.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have. We are truly spoiled for choice.”

The clinking of plates and the promise of food has his mouth watering but he’s grown comfortable in the windowsill nook with a pair of throw pillow stolen from the sofa and he simply holds out a palm, his half-lidded gaze settling heavily over Jack.

“I should like to have the apple now, poisons and all--" He chuckles, low and soft in this throat. “-- should it be all the same to you."

[250mhzwabl]

Digging for the apple as bid (and what a relief it is, to have something to do with his hands), Jack comes up with it and passes the rest of the bag over to Eugene, trying not to fluster as his focus continues to flit between Zev and Isaac and his understanding of what either is saying becomes patchier and patchier. Focus, he knows he just has to focus, but right now there are hundreds of things on his mind besides trying to lip-read the surreality of familiar faces forming words all wrong.

"Gene packed the rest," he defers, hoping it fits in context, crossing the floor with the apple to hand it to Isaac. Even that neutral gesture feels oddly charged somehow, handing him food, waiting for another flicker of movement that he has less chance of than ever of understanding. He puts the apple in his hand, though, and it feels . . . alright, at least. Not relaxed, but alright, enough so that he even gives a rueful little look. "Hopefully Zev's body has been a little less useless than mine was?"

[z_jay]

It was more difficult on Jack, he could see the way he tensed with the verbal exchange he couldn't see. He wasn't skilled enough to morse all of what was said coherently and gave him a soft grin once he was mentioned. "Just basic rations, things that I thought would be most useful. And that usually just means food."

But there were a few things tucked under the food. A blanket, some socks-- randomly assorted things just to in some way, keep Zev warm. It wasn't because it was cold out, but it was the only way he could think to provide comfort in a very uncomfortable situation where touch and taste and manner were all compromised.

He reached for Jack, nothing overt, and mainly for touch to let him know he was nearby. "No one's trying to poison anyone, here. Just for the record."