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[herhumbleservant]

If Ross is honest (which he won't be, if anyone were to actually ask), he's a bit nervous about having Matthew over to the apartment.

It isn't because he isn't happy to host the lad; no, it's more that Ross isn't sure he's altogether a proper host at all. Demelza had teased him throughout the evening, up until she'd left for work at Tintern, about how he'd looked like he was fretting over whether pizza would be the right choice for a meal, considering he can hardly cook on his own. It's Demelza who is skilled in the kitchen, not Ross, and his wife hardly ceases to remind him of that when the subject comes up.

He realizes how ridiculous he's being, if only because he's most certainly had friends before. It's just that those friends had been in Cornwall, Ross had known them practically all his life, and to be faced with an overwhelming selection of unfamiliar faces in this city, he sometimes isn't sure how to go about being more than relatively civil with most people. He's lucky, he thinks, to have discovered that Matthew is willing enough to lead their conversations when Ross seems to be at a loss for what to say. Andrea, too, is quite like that, and Demelza herself rarely runs out of things to say. So perhaps that is what Ross needs, someone who can poke and prod and pry him out of the sort of shell he retreats into at times. As it turns out, he's cultivating quite a few friends who posses that talent.

When the doorbell rings, Ross freezes, staring at the door before shifting his gaze to Julia, who looks up at him from the bassinet that's been set up in their living room with wide, curious eyes. "Best behavior," Ross murmurs, and he isn't sure whether he's reminding himself or the baby but it's neither here nor there because then he's crossing the room and opening the door.

He breaks into a smile, which he hopes is welcoming enough. "Matthew," he greets, stepping aside to let the young man inside. "Come in, please, the living room is right through here. Take a seat wherever you'd like."

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[herhumbleservant]

Ross frowns at that, knowing all too well how cruel some parents can be. He's fortunate himself, his father could easily have become as bitter as the rest after the deaths of both Ross's mother and younger brother, but Joshua Poldark had been a good man. He'd inspired a great deal of gossip among those in their class, though knowing that admittedly pleases Ross in some small way. Ross had carried on that legacy, after all, and he thinks his father would have quite liked Demelza. Francis and Verity, on the other hand, had been hard-pressed to earn Uncle Charles's approval and indeed, even on his deathbed, Charles hadn't seem altogether impressed with either of his children.

"In that case, it sounds like it's rather for the best that you didn't know too many," Ross says, and he hopes that doesn't sound callous. He can be a reticent man, he knows this, but he tries his best to be good to those who are good to him. When he sees cruelty, like that of Tom Carne, who'd beaten Demelza and her brothers until they'd scarred, something within him warms with anger. For the moment, he lets that settle, hiding the rising frustration at the memory of his fight with Carne by taking another sip of wine.

"Your talent?" he asks then, tilting his head curiously. "What talent might that be?"

[farseek]

Matthew can't help but laugh at that. Ross has a particular brand of bluntness that reminds Matthew of Elspeth. They're both friendly and kind, but neither seems to have much cause for tact, or for careful words. Matthew had always liked that about Elspeth, and he'd had little in the way of tact himself until he'd been forced to learn when to hold his tongue. It still slipped out more often than not, but in recent years a slip of the tongue meant a crack of the whip, and Matthew values his own skin.

"You didn't know?" he queries, a little surprised. Eowyn knows it well, and Jamie too. Matthew thinks most of his friends in this place know now too, whether they have some kind of Talent of their own or not. Back home it had been a carefully guarded secret, but here there is less to fear, and Matthew trusts the people he has befriended. There's no Council or Herders for them to sell him out to besides, and he already lived through KIRIN and came out the other side.

"Forgive me, I thought it common knowledge by now." He shakes his head, taking a sip of his wine. "Back home we called them Talents, though there seems to be a variety of words for it here. There are things I can do with my mind," he explains, letting the words come gently, testing the waters. "Talk to people, for instance." He leaves out the harsher parts for now, the coercion and the mind reading. It tends to inspire fear firsthand, and Matthew means Ross no harm.

[herhumbleservant]

Frankly, it doesn't surprise Ross to be out of the loop of something apparently so well-known. He doesn't socialize much at work, has only exchanged pleasantries with Eowyn and once saw Jamie in a coffee shop with his daughter, before he'd disappeared from the city. Matthew is the only one Ross has truly gone out of his way to spend time with outside of the stables and even then, it appears he hasn't been paying especially good attention to the young man.

"You can talk to people with your mind," Ross repeats, slowly, trying to work it out as the words leave him. He blinks, unsure of how to respond. Demelza has told him of the friends she's made who are particularly gifted, but Ross hasn't had encounters of that magnitude himself. Galen had told him of his past, of how he isn't truly human, and Ross had accepted that readily enough simply because his friend has never done anything to deserve less.

So he tries, for Matthew's sake, to understand. To grasp what this Talent really means. "You're saying that you could do that right now, put your thoughts in my head without uttering a word?" Ross asks, a brow arching. "Could you show me?"

[farseek]

Matthew's a little surprised. Normally when the topic is brought up it's either met by confusion or fear or, if they were back home, his arrest. Ross looks at him in a way that says he probably hasn't come across this sort of thing before, but he doesn't seem hostile. It bolsters Matthew's confidence a little, and he puts his glass of wine down for a moment. One glass is hardly going to hamper him, but if he's going to be putting on a demonstration, it's best if his mind is sharp.

He hesitates for only a moment, curious at what the reaction will be before he seeks out Ross's mind, sending a quick "aye, I can". When he'd done this with Dutch she'd been pleasant enough but he'd respected her wishes to keep out otherwise. With Blue he quite enjoyed finding her mind across a crowd, feeling the way it enhanced his own. Ross feels like an unTalent when he enters, but the lack of hatred is curiously new.

"There are other parts to it, too," he explains, dropping back out of Ross's head to talk verbally. "We call it farseeking."

[herhumbleservant]

It startles him, though Ross expects it. Well, he hadn't known quite what to expect, in truth, so he stirs where he sits when the voice sounds in his head and looks to Matthew with wide eyes. Had this happened in Cornwall, Ross would have imagined he was going mad, that Matthew was going mad with him, but he lets out a short burst of awed laughter and rubs a hand over the stubble of his cheek.

"Farseeking," he echoes, brow knitting at the new term. He can't hope to understand it, not in its entirety, nor does he think he particularly wishes to; but it's rather extraordinary and there's a part of him that's glad they're in a place he can more readily accept the phenomenon. Demelza will be fascinated to learn of it, if Matthew gives his permission for Ross to tell her.

"What other parts?" he asks, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, all the more intrigued now.

[farseek]

It's not how Matthew expected this night to go, but he finds he's quite enjoying it. There are people here that know about him now, most of the ones he's close to, but for the most part he keeps it under wraps. Dutch and Matthias know, obviously, but he tries not to demonstrate or fall into the habit too much around them, knowing they both guard their minds closely. It's not like home, where he could comfortable farseek his friends without concern.

"I can sense people, animals. Feel their minds before I enter a room, seek them out over a distance, that sort of thing." He shrugs. "The borders of the city limit me here, like static, and it's the same over water." There's no reason that his mind shouldn't be able to bypass the city, but as soon as he gets to the edge of the countryside it's like he's pushing against blacklands, the taint muffling his mind.

"I have a little coercion Talent, too, being able to control minds and the like. But I've only used that the once here, to escape KIRIN." He scrunches his nose a little, the idea leaving a bad taste in his mouth. He hadn't liked using that particular power, but he had liked being a prisoner again even less.

[herhumbleservant]

Well, that rather explains why Matthew is such an exceptional hand at the stables. Ross doesn't want to offend by attributing all the lad's skills to this farseeking gift, but he suspects it certainly does help when it comes to needing to calm the horses in their occasional times of stress. It's a comfort to know Matthew would be able to do that, really, that when all else fails, there's someone to rely on who can help fix what Ross cannot.

"KIRIN." Ross nods a bit, though he doesn't want to pry if Matthew doesn't want to speak of it. He'd heard of the organization, of what it'd done to some of the people in this city, though he's sure Demelza has learned more of it than he has. Whether he wants to know more about it or not, he isn't sure; as curious as he can get, Ross is also weary of sticking his nose into things that might put his family at risk in some way. If it were his own well-being alone that was the concern, he wouldn't hesitate to dig more; but his daughter is sleeping just to his right, and Ross could never do anything that would bring her harm.

And yet, Ross still finds himself wanting to gain a better understanding of it, of why Matthew had disappeared, why he'd needed to use coercion to escape. He takes another sip of wine, carefully weighing his options before meeting Matthew's eyes. "I'd heard of it, rather Demelza told me of it. They took you, they took others. Why? What was their aim?"

[farseek]

It was months ago now but Matthew still feels his stomach churn in distaste at the thought of them. He'd been so convinced he was safe here, convinced that this was the Beforetime of his dreams and that nothing bad would happen. The Great White was a distant threat that might not come for years and years now, and everything else had seemed so wonderful. There was no Council, no Herders, nothing to fear being himself for the first time in his life. And then KIRIN had taken that from him, thrown him into a cell and torn his mind to pieces over and over.

"Something about our Talents," he says, shrugging one shoulder. Not everyone in the cells had had the same abilities, some very different from others. None of them were Talents he recognises from home, and he still doesn't know exactly what the end game was. "I don't know the details, only that they took people with gifts."

Gifts, they'd called it when they were in there. Back home he'd been called a misfit all his life, an abomination. He takes a sip of his wine for something to do with his hands, something to stall for time. Matthew has always been good at letting this kind of thing roll off him; he'd suffered worse back home and never let it get to him, but sometimes it takes an extra moment to let the anger roll away. "Anyway, it was nothing pleasant."

[herhumbleservant]

He's silent for a long moment after Matthew has finished talking, and Ross has no intention of asking more details about the experience because it's clear to him Matthew would rather not relive any of it. What concerns him is the possibility that it could happen again, which he's sure has occurred to Matthew, as well. People can be greedy, they can do terrible things at the cost of others' well-beings for selfish gain, and Ross may not know what it's like to be targeted for a talent such as Matthew's, but he has been the victim of such despicable behavior.

"You had someone?" he asks, avoiding eye contact as he reaches for a slice of pizza. "After that entire ordeal, you had friends you could turn to? Somewhere to recover where you weren't alone?"

It would make Ross a hypocrite to say one shouldn't be alone during times of strife, but he's come around to acknowledging the truth of that, particularly since Demelza had entered into his life. To know someone is waiting for him, to know someone genuinely cares about his well-being all the time and not just when it suits them, it does make a difference.

"You're welcome here, you know," Ross continues, clearing his throat, "if ever you're in need of something."

[farseek]

The question shocks him somewhat. He appreciates that Ross doesn't ask the finer details, but he hadn't expected him to ask about the aftermath, either. Matthew hasn't spoken about KIRIN to anyone; in fact this is the most he's spoken of it since it happened. The first day, when he'd been freed and gone to the carnival for something to distract his wandering thoughts, Dutch had asked him if he was okay. They hadn't talked about it and he'd shrugged the entire matter off like it was nothing. They'd been friends then but not overly close, and he hadn't wanted to burden her.

"I was relatively new here," he explains. Darrow is full of people who have built friends and families and lives here but when he'd been taken, he'd only been in the city two months and the list of people he knew was very few. He thinks it would be different, now. "But I managed."

He's never spoken to anyone about Redport, either, he thinks. Maybe that's the kind of thing you're supposed to do, talk to people close to you about the things that cause you grief, but he's never had the opportunity. He was snatched from Elspeth and Dameon seconds after reuniting with them, with no time to talk about what those eight years had done to him. Here he's not talked about it to anyone except in brief passing. "Thank ye for the generosity though," he says, raising his glass a little in thanks. He doesn't know whether he'd ever take Ross up on the offer but he appreciates the gesture all the same.