"I've been fine so far."

It probably depends on one's definition of fine, considering regular people would probably describe him as a violent, rude, high-strung paranoid fuck, but that's what happens when you spend your entire life in hostile environments. He doesn't look disinterested, though; in fact there seems to be a spark of life to his otherwise blank expression at the mention of tea.

"...yeah." He'd skipped giving his own name for now, but he does take note of the one offered to him. "Can't really get anything decent here, though."

Probably one of his biggest gripes about this place, honestly.

Some of them are probably more correct than others. Levi doesn't really have a guilt problem, though self worth might be a trickier subject. He's also prone to overworking himself for the greater good, so that part's hitting the damn bullseye.

Likewise, he's not really trying to be elusive. He's just rude and awkward, a terrific combination, but would most likely introduce himself if directly asked rather than expected to assume it's now his turn to do the same.

Levi leans forward a little, as if about to reach for it, but pauses, looking between the thermos and Tom's face for a moment.

"You want something for it."

It's not really a question, and he's not really surprised; why would anyone part with anything good or rare for free, especially in a place where it's hard to come by? That's just how life works.

He does expect the man to state his price, though. The tea might not even be good but it's not like the bar is high in this place, and it's ought to be warm at least.

He may have grown up in a place where the majority of people had to steal, kill or fuck to get anything, especially money. Don't worry about it.

Levi folds his arms and slightly glowers back, apparently unintimidated by the looming but also unamused by the theatrics. Just tell me. His grouchy expression barely twitches but his eyes do widen slightly in confusion when Tom speaks again.

"Don't think I have that," he says dryly, as if said great cosmic adventure is supposed to be something he can shake out of his pocket, but doesn't seem to be stingy about his name, as if it simply hadn't occurred to him to share it before. "Name's Levi."

It is perhaps thanks to the sheer audacity of the man that Levi indeed ends up just following along, almost automatically, rather than trying to pull himself free. Finally, something other than general wariness can be read on his face and it seems to be utter confusion.

If the transaction is complete, why the hell does he want to go somewhere with just the two of them?

Not to mention handsome is hardly among the most common things people have called him, too. He knows he's not ugly -- in fact, he's aware his face is more cute than he'd like -- but his height or his abrasive manner tended to be the point of focus in most cases.

Is the man planning to try to butcher him for organs or something? But there's no market for that here. Shit, there isn't even money, and people would have notice by now if folks were disappearing right here in town. So what's the play here?

He really is completely baffled.

"...What do you get out of this?" he finally settles on.

Levi's eyebrows rise slightly. He doubts anyone is not miserable in this place, but this feels like he's being singled out. Is it his face? Maybe it doesn't really matter, though he balks at the idea of anybody pitying him in particular.

"I'm not that interesting," he grouses instead, his expression finally returning to it's usual, slightly frowning state, but he still follows along nonetheless, too tempted by the promise of-- well, pretty much anything vaguely tea-like and warm and this point.

"Just so we're clear, I'm not sucking you off for some knock-off herb water." Just making sure their expectations are aligned, or perhaps a crude attempt at humor, it's hard to tell with his perpetual deadpan. "What did you make it from, anyway?"

"I don't think anything yet," Levi clarifies evenly. "I don't know you."

Which can really go either which way now, and his experience dictates it's best to always be wary and ready for anything.

And of all the things and assumptions, it's the word fungi that seems to stop Levi solid in his tracks. He may or may not be aware that it's also synonymous with mushrooms.

"Fungi," he repeats, his nose scrunching up in open disgust. "Like the shit that grows on smelly feet?"

But how does he know that his level is downwards?

Levi doesn't seem intimidated by their size difference -- there's plenty of reasons for that, of course, though one can't discard the fact that he's also simply used to it because most adult men tend to be taller than him. He just scoffs up at Zane as if he's being purposefully obtuse.

"Mushrooms are different," he decides, then squints a little in what could pass as either suspicion or confusion. "And I don't know what peetsa means."

Oops. There's a lot of room to learn new things here, it seems.

Levi misses simpler things, like potato stew, apples and tea. He does not, in fact, know what pineapples or cocktails are. He would probably be fascinated by pretty much any warmer climate fruit.

He still has not concluded whether the other man is just one of those weirdly friendly types or is actually trying to get something out of him, but he supposes it doesn't matter too much. As far as he knows, he's immune to pretty much anything one could spike a drink with, so he's not in any danger, and a fire is mighty tempting after spending much of the day inside.

So he just grunts vaguely in acknowledgement and marches over to take that nice, warm seat. If it's something fancy like an armchair, he might even sink into it a little.

What does he mean, here? In his home? Does he normally have a roommate or something?

Levi scoffs a little and opens the thermos he's been handed, leaning in to sniff the contents. It doesn't smell feet-disgusting, fortunately, but it's definitely a bit weird and unlike anything he's tasted before. Mostly it just leaves him more confused.

"You said it's tea?.." he grumbles, perhaps trying to coax some more information, and pours some into the lid-mug, holding it out toward the other man. You first.

Well. It's clearly not poison, considering the other man's eagerness, though Levi is still perplexed by the thing apparently being such swill that he's supposed to swallow it down without savoring the taste. The promise of warmth in his belly is too tempting, however, so he pours himself a portion too -- using a different mug if one is available, or if only the lid is within reach he'll just make sure to put his lips on a different part of it.

It tastes about how it smells; odd and a little unpleasant, like medicine, but not gross in a way that would make him spit it out. It's also nice and warm, and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand once he's done, closing the thermos.

"I'm keeping my layers, thanks," he mutters, scowling and tucking his scarf in tighter into his coat. Hearing his own voice feels a little weird, as if he's just listening to it, but it's probably just because this has to be the most talking he's done in weeks. "What old self are you talking about?"

Levi stares back, having seemingly forgotten how to blink. The warmth is making his cheeks flush and he feels a little light-headed, as if the world is slowing down around them. Somehow, he doesn't find himself particularly alarmed.

"Sometimes," he says, surprised at his own honesty. He can think of at least one recent time when he's had that exact thought, when he'd first contemplated that his subordinates' sacrifices may have been for nothing. "What's cosmic?"