Captain Ross Poldark (
herhumbleservant) wrote2016-06-28 10:27 pm
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6/28
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."
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."
no subject
"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.
no subject
"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?"
no subject
"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."
no subject
"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."
no subject
"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.