#thread.elspeth

[eternallycvnfused]

CLOSED STARTER FOR @rufficns ft. Elspeth

Matevos had been busy since the supposed murder of the council member. He hadn't really put much thought into the matter, only that his colleagues at the farm - at least one of them - were huge on gossip and by the seventh day, he'd heard every possible theory, and then some. Most of them sounded like those conspiracy theories people spewed on facebook before the outbreak.

As a result, he tended to stay away from the hub of people and focus on his job, after all, new people, more food was needed, and he'd been so used to taking it easy, it took him a bit to shift to second gear.

He hugged a huge crate of produce against his chest as he set out for the main building, smile on his face, hair messy, and he was also slightly smelly. But that never stopped him.

He placed the crate on the table and then turned, a familiar face looked back up at him. For a while he thought he was dreaming. He'd long since given up on seeing anyone from his past again. Though he never liked to think about what might've happened to them.

He frowned. Then poked Elspeth. "Wow. You're real?"

[1mpulsec0ntrol]

@rufficns ( ft. elspeth )

Matevos held the door wide open for Elspeth as he gestured for them to head inside of the small cafe, it was nice to be out of the rain and the cold, but in comparison to the loud sounds of the city, the place wasn't much different. Sounds of conversations, clinking cups, and the coffee machine rose up to meet them. So his eyes tried to find a spot furthest away from the loudness. He made a face. "I'll get us coffee, you claim a spot?" he asked. "Regular coffee, cappuccino, espresso, late, what do you want?" he asked, just rattling off a few off the top of his head, though ready to remember whichever she wanted the most. He brushed wet hair out of his face as he looked at the menu. "They have apple pie, do you want apple pie?"

[b4rredteeth]

for @fromanchor ( ft. Elspeth )

Nate always managed to be everywhere, even when there was nowhere to be, when he wasn’t so sure if he was allowed to be somewhere because he hadn’t gotten an invitation. But that never mattered, not in the case of funerals, weddings, and so forth. Because someone he knew would get invited, and Nate would be requested to ‘aid’. Not that they ever did more than drive people places, or stand by in case something would happen so they could drive them other places, but it was nice to be included regardless. 

As the funeral was led to an end, Nate felt the ball of nervous energy, but still caught on doing the right thing, taking care of community. New people: old people; strangers; familiar faces. It didn’t really matter to them. They’d latch on to someone and if they needed them, they’d keep latching on. 

They gave the cup of steaming hot coffee to Elspeth as the bag of cinnamon bread dangled from their teeth, firmly biting down on it to keep it from dropping to the snow. “Dere’u’o,” he muttered, the bag making it impossible to talk. They grabbed it as the coffee was taken from them and opened the bag with their mouth, holding that one out to Elspeth as well. 

Nate didn’t necessarily do pity, but they understood that sometimes people needed company. And Elspeth seemed to need company, though they hadn’t yet dared to ask them about the depth of their grief. “Coffee, pastries, and bitter Alaskan cold, best way to start off the last month of the year!”