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

[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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[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.]

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.

[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.

[Another one of Zevran’s guests, another face he doesn’t look to for long from his place at the windowsill. But it’s not her he expected to see at the door and recognition is slower to dawn on him as he slogs through conflicts in recent memory to pinpoint when and where he knows her from. He turns back to his book when he makes the connection, willing himself to focus despite the dull pang in his throat.

This isn’t his sister. And he sure as hell was never her brother.]

What is it you have brought us, mm? Some of your baked goods? those cookies you made for Eugene's birthday were lovely.

[ He accepts the box easily and steps aside, nodding for Sabriel to come through. ]

Those cookies were more than a little drunken even as we made them, but I'm glad you liked them.

[Sabriel smiles and steps in, her gaze pausing on Isaac in Zev's body by the window for a moment before it returns to her friend.]

With you away I've had a more of a chance to do my part and cook for everyone. This is the first true meal I've made yet that I feel confident in sharing.

[Inside the box is a large thermos of hot chocolate and a fair portion of rosemary and herb mushroom stew and a nice loaf of crusty bread and a knob of butter. So she didn't make the bread. Or the butter but she's quite happy with the two she did have a hand in making.]

I hope you both like it. [She says this with a tentative glance in the direction of the window.]

[Though he feels her gaze settle on him briefly he keeps his head down and his lips pressed thin, listening. Smells drifting from the box close the distance, the savoury, earthy scent of the stew with the sharp note of rosemary stirring memories of his dirt-crusted fingernails and sackfuls of herbs and forest mushrooms passed between them. Memories of how they’d smiled and laughed as if they had been more than strangers and he has sat her table knowing that, no matter how dark the day and who he had left to count on, he could always find her and find peace for a moment. But now -- now all she is is someone who knows too much and in a way he’s more than uncomfortable with.

It’s the Malnosso’s doing, not hers. But the negative association is a difficult one to shake.]

Mushroom stew?

[ He peers into the box, grinning at the bread and butter. A simple, hearty, filling meal that would not weigh upon he or Isaac in his body overmuch. AN excellent choice. ]

I hope the boys are not complaining. They are far too particular for their own good. I fear I may have spoiled them a bit; especially Gene. Do not back down- poutine is not to be made in that kitchen. That much fat cannot be good for anyone.

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

Knock knock~

Who's there?

Hatch.

tentative combo-breaker (if you need me to delete and keep for later, lemme know)

c-c-c-combo breaker

aw c'mon...someone's gotta finish it ;o;

Ok, ok. Hatch WHO?

Hatchooo!