human kindness is overflowing

[bloodyantivan]

Date & Time: March 6th, around 8pm
Location: whatever hole-in-the-wall Zevran frequently drinks in
Characters: Zevran Arainai (bloodyantivan), Kate Kane (gevurah)
Summary: beers and bro-ing out
Warnings: Some references to violence. Will warn for anything else as appropriate.


[What is it, Zevran ponders as he watches the door, about me and redheads?

If Zevran were suspicious, at least more so than any Chantry-educated Antivan elf, he might think that they were an omen. A bad-luck omen, a reminder of the violence he's done, a symbol of penance or even oncoming punishment. Red is the color of blood, of sin and desire, and he's known plenty of those things, and been beholden to their power more times than he's likely to ever admit. He paints himself as a master, but what man ever is?

He remembers Kate's vivid red from the hazy mess of childish emotion he recently experienced. He is curious to see what sort of adult she grew into. She sounds beautiful, elegant, and completely in control. She sounds strong. He has no doubt of that, if Leliana was at all fond of the woman she must have been rare indeed. Leliana and he held very similar tastes, after all.

Leliana. Another redhead. His charming Orlesian coquette, a rose, he'd call her, if he called her at all. Sadly, they understood each other almost too well to ever have happened. There was little trust between people who seduced and lied and laughed and looked pretty for money. Whether whores or assassins or bards, those who could see the ribbons tying on the masks were always a little bit wary, readying swords behind their backs just as flash-quick as smiles.

Zevran had meant to speak with Leliana, meant to take her into his confidence about a personal matter some time ago. Alas, he missed the opportunity, and she is gone, and his mind, no, his heart is quite full of worry about another redhead. And now he is here, waiting for yet another redhead still, to have drinks and be charming and friendly and see what worth this Kate woman has to offer as friend and ally. If there is nothing at all, at least the company seems like it will be good.

His instincts him tell him otherwise, however.

He's honestly a little relieved Kate is not the least bit interested in him. Otherwise, he'd feel almost obligated to throw himself at her, if she is even slightly as pretty as she was a child, and half as fascinating as she sounds. He is already quite fond of her, and Leliana seem quite interested. He and Leliana quite often shared tastes, in both clothes and women. But lately the prospect of all those games seems exhausting. It is perhaps the fatal illness known as being in love.

Horrible. However is he supposed to work like this? Zevran is a little disgusted by himself.

But he thinks no more on it, tapping his boot against the base of the table.

Much to the chagrin of the server, he drinks only a glass of water with a lemon sliver while he waits. He is early. He almost always is. Though it's a familiar venue, he hates settling down in a place he intends to stay for any length of time without getting to know it.

Whatever will Messere Shem-lina Kate think of him, he wonders. He has gathered from some interactions that women from other places and eras find him a bit strange. She has so adamantly told him she's does not know elves each time they've met. It is a little splinter beneath the skin, the "I'm not sure elves really existed" he keeps hearing from humans. Zevran is not sure how to work it free yet, but infection hasn't set in, so what else can he do but learn more? Outright inquiry, directing questioning into history and archaeology would be strange. Still, he intends to find out more about that, too. It almost feels like being on the job, to have such a mystery to ferret out.

The part where he's pretty sure he doesn't want to know the truth is familiar, too.]

Comments

[bloodyantivan]

I have found myself preoccupied with learning some of these new things - of electricity and guns and flushing toilets. These are all well-known to you, yes? How is it that everyone is not tremendously lazy? The people here have known a long war, is it so where you are from?

[Zevran sips his beer thoughtfully.]

[gevurah]

[ She snorts a bit. ]

They were made to make living easier, not lazier. Fire doesn't quite cut it anymore in big cities with millions of people. Toilets for hygiene's sake.

[ But she pauses at the war bit. ]

We've been to war a few times. My home country, at least. Lots of countries have been in wars at some point.

[bloodyantivan]

And have you been to war? That must be quite a sight. The guns and other weapons must make the killing so much less personal.

[Zevran sounds amused at the idea.]

And yet perhaps no less messy, come to think of it... hm, well, one must get one's hands dirty to kill in such great numbers, anyhow.

[gevurah]

No. [ Yes, but a different kind of war. ] My [ a small pause ] father's in the Army.

[bloodyantivan]

[Zevran raises an eyebrow. That is surprising news. Then again, many nobles serve in their king's armies. She doesn't strike him as the simple daughter of a soldier, though there is a fighter's quality about her.]

Oh? Is he a brave man?

[gevurah]

Incredibly brave. [ It took a lot of stupidity, but bravery to hide secrets from family. To look them everyday in the eye for twenty years and hide the fact her sister wasn't dead all this time. ] Soldiers always are.

[bloodyantivan]

Are they? It seems to me that baring arms in itself does not make a brave woman or man. [Truly, Zevran has known soldiers both brave and cowardly, loyal and mercenary. And some of the most fearless people were those overlooked by the armies of kings...]

[gevurah]

It's a different process... hell, even thinking process. Those who enlist [ kind of ] know what they're signing up for.

Serving your country is the highest honor.

[bloodyantivan]

Can anyone truly know war before they have experienced it? Even I was surprised at the brutality of battle the first time I experienced it, and that was after many, many years of training and preparation. [Then again he hardly enlisted as a simple soldier - though the cruelty he's experienced ought to have made him even more prepared, he thinks.]/small>

--I have heard that serving a cause is a high honor, true, but it is almost always from the ones who require service.

[gevurah]

[ She could say the same, but she has to play the part of the merely concerned civilian. ]

Not all... you're right. I suppose you can prep your mind for it, but when it comes down to what you need to do on the front lines... [ Her dad had killed lots of men. Never came back maladjusted. ]

[bloodyantivan]

--I have never had trouble doing what needs to be done. [Zevran is, above all other things, a killer: he will never question that. He will never stop being an instrument of murder.] But the chaos of the battlefield! It is so noisy, with the clang of weapons and the dismayed shouts of the dying. That took some getting used to, the first time.

[gevurah]

I can't imagine what it's like. [ She's seen hundreds of hours of snuff films and other horrific films directed and starring serial killers and their victims. ]

But you said you had left that behind?

[bloodyantivan]

Doing violence in order to survive? Something tells me you would have no difficulty with it. Killing in itself is not difficult. Doing it well, efficiently, with respect - that is where the business of many years of training come into play. That is what my guildmasters would say elevates the act to an art. [Though his inflection implies that he is somewhat skeptical.]

I left the Crows, and presently have no reason nor desire to kill for coin. [Zevran shrugs.] But that has not really changed my attitude about the business. Killing is what I have been shaped my whole life to do. It is what I am best at.

[A pause, and a mischievous grin:] One of the things I am best at.

[gevurah]

[ There's a stretch of awkward silence. She's never been able to sit comfortably with the idea of killing, even when she had been nearly driven to the edge and nothing but red was all she could see and the sound had been drowned out.

Stabbing Mannheim had been one of those instances. There was Renee, cornered, Mannheim too close to her and Kate drugged, concussed, and in the most unimaginable pain she had ever been in her life. She was desperate and it was the only way to stop him back then. ]

I wouldn't. I don't want to. [ She confirms, steeling her expression. ] It sounds naive in this world, I know.

You really don't think you could do something else? Change? [ She could kill, if she had the heart for it. She knew the various methods; which were the most efficient and cleanest. Kate Kane is always on the Batman rule, however. ]

[bloodyantivan]

My friend, do not forget I met your childhood self. You have a fierceness in your blood. You are a fighter - not the product of a happy life, no? If you were purchased by the Crows as I was, I have no doubt you would have learned as well as I did to harden your heart to the kill. Judging by your strength and skill then, you would have easily surpassed me! [He is smiling, almost teasing one moment, and then his expression suddenly goes quite dark.] Do not mistake my meaning if I seem resolute about what I am. It was never a matter of what I wanted. Such things rarely are. Killing is not necessarily always what I want to do, but it is what I do.

The life I had before the Crows purchased me - you saw what I was. [Witless, he thinks, and desperate. And filthy.] One thing I cannot fault the Crows for is recognizing and utilizing my potential. Otherwise, I would reside in a brothel still, provided the boredom and humiliation of it didn't drive me to throw myself in the canal long ago.

I am, at present, uniquely posed to thank them for making me the murderer I am today, and offer a bit of constructive criticism on their training methods. [Zevran is smiling again, grimly. But there's a fidget he can't get out, and out of habit he pulls out one of the knives in his sleeve, not to threaten with but to idly pick at his nails.]

It seems a waste to give up killing and live a life in hiding, always in fear that some Crow might discover me. While stealth is always an admirable trait, sometimes a more direct approach is appropriate.

[gevurah]

[ Her gaze slides into a cold one and she leans back in her chair to distance herself from that sort of "accusation" (in her head it is) and Zevran himself. ]

That was a long time ago. I'm not that kid anymore. [ To her, but really, parts of that angry 12 year old had stuck around. Kate had a fierceness and rage that she couldn't always control then. ]

Don't assume, Zevran.

[bloodyantivan]

[Oh, he's gotten under her skin. Zevran can't help but grin at her clear anger - some things about him have not changed so much from when he was a child.]

What did I assume? I merely observed. Or was I wrong about some part of it?

You are not that kid anymore, no more than I am. But I hold no illusion that I stand on the back of that child's corpse. He may be dead, but he is how I remain standing today.

[gevurah]

[ She snorts derisively. ]

I was scared and lost and had been through some things. [ Some things meaning being kidnapped and possibly almost murdered herself. ]

[bloodyantivan]

I am not hearing anything that contradicts my observation.

--Are you angry? [Zevran sounds a little shocked, but apologetic. It's incredibly convincing, though the likelihood is he isn't either.] Have I offended you by implying you have the skills to become an assassin? You did not strike me a one with delicate sensibilities.

[gevurah]

[ And then she pushes aside her drink and rises, both hands on the table. She doesn't slam them, but she is making it quite clear she no longer wants to have this conversation. ]

I'm not delicate.

I don't like when people assume things about me.

[bloodyantivan]

No, you are clever and tough. Which is why I think that you would do what is necessary to survive, however it turns your stomach. [Zevran raises as eyebrow when she rises from the table as if to say So you are throwing a tantrum now?]

It is not meant as an insult, nor a deeper observation into your - clearly complex [He almost says that with a straight face] - heart and mind.

You are the one who said you could not do violence to survive. Forgive me for disagreeing. If I could go back I would surely say, "Oh, yes, you are right, I cannot see you killing anyone, in spite of the fact I have seen dogs and children do the same on many occasions." I truly did not wish to offend you so.

[gevurah]

You are analyzing me. [ She folds her arms over her chest. ] I'll deck someone if I have to. I'm not afraid to break someone's jaw, if that's what you think.

But I'm not going to cross that line. I can't. [ She's teetered on the edge recently back home, but she always pulls herself back. ] It's just... I don't know.

[ She's not sure why she's so uncomfortable now. ]

[bloodyantivan]

I am not asking you to kill anyone. [Zevran says quite reasonably, and laughs.] At least, not here, over drinks in a bar. It seems unlikely that I would need your assistance in murdering anyone, seeing as I am an assassin myself and would not even have to pay my hiring fee.

But it is my observation of most everyone, not just you, my friend. When backed in a corner, you become very vicious or you become very dead.

Tell me, what bothers you so about killing? Your father killed in battle, yes, you must understand why it is at some times necessary.

[gevurah]

He did. [ She finally slips back into her seat, running her fingers nimbly through her thick hair. ] But I'm not my father.

[ Not anymore. ]

[bloodyantivan]

[Zevran picks a little at one of his cuticles with his knife. He is always surrounded with sharp things. It is his way.]

No. I have heard tales of such things being possible, but, only in silly, bawdy tales.

You did not answer my question.