The tailback of timorous souls | OTA

[callada]

characters: Rosinante, OTA
location: Church, elsewhere?
date/time: 7/7 evening
content: After the dubious honor of being the first to die, Rosi also is the first to be revived in the church.
warnings: n/a for now

There's a crash out on the rocks; a rattle of glass and metal, caught just wrong on sharp granite, and then cold darkness overtakes him.

And for a moment, he thinks perhaps he dreamed it, for there is the oddest sensation of waking from a deep slumber. For a moment he thinks he still feels icy cold. But there's no wind over the water, no sharp ache in his chest. The church is comfortable and lit. How did he get here? Why is he basically just lying at someone's feet? Who-

"Uh, sorry. Hello."

A few minutes later, if you weren't present for him being tossed out the trap door, he'll just be sitting on the floor with legs bent at the knees and lantern beside him. Death is never pleasant and he needs a moment, plus it sounds like there were people looking for him. They shouldn't have, but so it goes.

Comments

we're just gonna have multiple threads at once, don't even mind me

[voktys]

In the end, she does find him in the church, presumably while he gathers his bearings after what happened with Gene. In fact, she'll offer him a hand to get up from the ground, smile present as ever.

"It is a relief to see you alive, Rosinante." And her voice is as steady and warm and genuine as her hand. "Some have speculated you might get to be so lucky. How are you?"

I'm glad tbh

[callada]

It's a little difficult, taking a hand up from someone so much shorter, but of course he accepts and stands anyway. She's unusual, but she's been nothing but kind, and "unusual" tends to be the regular way of things more often than not in his life. It helps keep things from getting boring.

So he stands, and even offers a smile, although he doesn't think he deserves her kindness when they barely know each other. When all he's done is talk about otherworldly wars and then died again.

"I'm fine, really. It's like nothing happened at all. I just went from over by the water to here in the church. And there was that... thing, in the trapdoor, but I didn't get a good look at it."

[voktys]

Brief joys while they last, as she is back to craning her neck up at him. Truly, she has little clue that they aren't quite on the same page in terms of their friendship –– no, she does not suspect him to have any trust in her, she is not a trusting person herself, but ordinary mortal relationships hold some air of bafflement even after a couple of years in Westeros. Forming lasting bonds was not a thing in Asshai. He is friendly to her, she seems to strike something correct about her own friendliness towards him, so it's... all set for her.

Besides, war is all she ever seems to speak of in Westeros. That's just a normal, everyday topic, like the weather.

"But you saw something?" At any rate, she's still holding onto his hand, and makes to guide him towards a door leading further into the church. "I will leave an offering in a moment, after all, you were returned to us, and it seems to enjoy them from what little I can tell. You shall eat, too."

That's just... decided.

[callada]

He lets her guide him, but slips his hand out of her grasp once they've gone more than a few steps. He can follow without being pulled, thanks - and contact isn't something he's fond of with people he doesn't know well anyway. But again, she is quite kind and he's only withdrawing because that's just what he does with everyone.

The offer of food is certainly welcome, so he won't object to that. "I - yes, briefly, something dark. You've been leaving offerings for it? And it takes them?"

[voktys]

There won't be any fight from her when he withdraws his hand – she does try to not make him uncomfortable, though she has that effect on people quite naturally most all the time.

"I started when it became a popular sport to attempt to break in, to insure we would not anger it. It takes them, but only when there are none of us around to witness it. Whatever manner of creature it is, it seems to value its privacy, and of such, there were plenty in Asshai." She opens the door, and then another, leading into what can only be her own – simply on account of all the red she'd managed to gather together for it. One corner holds space for a futon and a couple of blankets and pillows, the other sees a banged up dresser, and last, there's something that looks like a high footstool or low end table, clearly intended to be more of the later, with cushions for sitting. "It left me a gift at one point. There is little reason to think it malicious."

[callada]

At least she likes her color theme, and boy does she stick to it. Like those spider crabs he used to play with as a kid, he thinks idly. Picking up bits of trash, coral, seaweed, whatever it is and attaching it to themselves, but only if it's the color they like most. But it's pleasant, in a way. She took the care to make the room feel like a sort of home, when here he's been sleeping on mattresses like a transient. Good for her.

He claims a cushion and takes his seat on the floor, and sets his lantern beside him. "And it brought me back, so there's another point in its favor. What did it leave you?"

[voktys]

"It left me a flower. Whatever it is, it seems to be a creature given to life."

She crosses over to the window, on the sill of which a pot sits. Having made use of a kitchenette in the tavern, she'd prepared some food earlier that day, and taken some to remind herself to eat – and to be able to demonstrate that she was, in fact, a creature in need of nourishment. Only a half-truth, that, but one best kept up with mortal men until she has perhaps found some with the same lacks of need. "I hope you don't mind a stew?"

Now, what she lacks in fire, she does not lack in conjuring the heat that comes with it, so when she lifts the lid of the pot, it's steaming. "It has been... a long time since I worked in the kitchens, but some things are hard to unlearn."

[callada]

"I don't mind at all, that sounds delicious. Thank you."

She must have just been cooking before he arrived, for it to be so hot still, he figures. How fortunate. Even if he's not particularly hungry, there's something pleasant about nice, warm food cooked by someone determined to share their generosity. He's not normally a meat and potatoes guy either, but he looks on it as a sort of gift. It would just be rude to turn it down.

[voktys]

She simply sets the pot down in front of him –– she'd not come across any bowls during her last trip to the general store, and she'd think it strange to serve it in a mug. A spoon he receives, too.. The stew might be spicier than expected, but that is the Essosi in her.

"You are most welcome. It is a relief to see you well." True, she might have... used the announcement of his death to celebrate life in her own way, but still, he had been the first person she spoke to in this place. "I have bread, too, if you wish for some."

Oh, she has no idea.

[callada]

Hatred of bread is truly his deepest, darkest, and most terrible non-secret. He frowns and shakes his head at the offer. "No, thanks. Stew is plenty."

And bread is an unacceptable non-food. He has a bite and quickly winces, for it is a little too hot both in heat and spice and sort of blows air through his mouth and outward in a futile attempt to cool it down before just giving in and swallowing the scorching chunk of meat. "Ha.. Ow. Hot. But good! Really good."

[voktys]

No bread, then.

At any rate, while she doesn't intend to watch him -– it feels... odd, to watch someone else eat –– she's old enough to pick up the wince. And the gentle struggle that follows.

Unfortunately, it's never occurred to her that the overall mild Westerosi cuisine she'd experienced was a deliberate choice, and not something that was forced by circumstance. So here's the the takeaway she has.

"Oh no. Do no tell me I poisoned you."

[callada]

"No, I think I just tried it too soon. It still needs to cool down." Which will never, ever fix the fact that it's also hot in a different direction but he's not a complete wimp. He'll eat it, because he's a big strong man who isn't afraid of anything. Certainly not a few chilies.

"Do you like to cook, then? That's a good skill to have around here."

[voktys]

Just the use of the word 'like' confuses her –– she doesn't usually act out of enjoyment, safe for perhaps when she chooses to share her bed with someone, and even then, there's an element of knowing that these kinds of pleasures honour her God.

"Is it something people do for their own pleasure?"

[callada]

"Cooking? Yeah, of course." At first it's strange to him that she doesn't seem to see it that way, or that it hadn't even occurred to her, but then it clicks. Right. Given her past... it would be a job, a necessity, not something fun.

Well now he feels guilty. But he can fix this. "If you enjoy it, you'll have lots of time here to experiment with different flavors. The shop has so many things I've never seen before, like that tea. It might be fun," he suggests with a shrug.

[voktys]

The way he so clearly means well does not make it any easier on her, in fact, it makes her trying to relate as best she can, and yet still, she comes up a little empty. Experiment? With food? There is a joy to cooking with strange items? Flavour is a good thing, yes, she can agree with it, but then, the idea of food not being an extremely limited resource has baffled her even at the king's side.

And let's not get into the idea of doing something for fun.

For a long moment, she simply watches him, as he can see the gears turning in her head. Then:

"I enjoy to sing." Hear ye, hear ye, mortal man, local ancient witch-priestess shares thine knowledge of enjoyment and engages in a pastime. "Do you cook for fun?"

[callada]

As she watches, he attempts another bite of the stew, this time blowing on it to cool it down first. As if that was the only problem. It does help though, as he manages to chew and swallow it without nearly choking on it. It's not too spicy to eat, really. Truly. His lips and tongue only are sort of burning.

"Singing! That's great. I... No, I can't say I cook much at all. I can, but it's not really a hobby." The number of times he's set the food or himself accidentally on fire, dropped a knife on his own foot, cut his fingers chopping vegetables, poked himself with a sharp skewer while trying to roast food over open flame - well. He got himself and Law through six months of travel and it's a good thing he had a pint-sized surgeon watching out for him the whole time, basically.

"But I like cards, and reading. And dancing." The latter of which he's not at all good at, but he refuses to let it stop him.