He takes the hand and pulls himself to his feet, and he does it without hesitation or so much as a(nother) questioning look. Having decided not to think too hard about it, he's going to do that.
Doesn't mean he's playing stupid, but answers will be, or will not be. "Sounds good. I'd make a crack about being hungry enough to eat... anything specific and it'd show up." And then he'd eat it, but he's going to have a moment or twelve if breakfast is a dead elephant.
Priorities are also in play. Until or unless something changes food has to be a major priority for him.
The easy, fearless acceptance shouldn't shock him at this point, but there's a flicker of it in his eyes before his lips twist with dark humour. "Good, you almost understand his sense of humour." There would be some kind of twist making it worse.
Leading anyone by the hand feels...warmly nostalgic in ways he refuses to dwell on, so they're just going to keep moving. Past the open wardrobe, past the stand where his armour has been fully repaired, through a smaller room that seems to be a study.
"Back when I still ate, he could just conjure anything he wanted, so we won't...have to..."
His words trail off as they actually step into the kitchen. It's designed to look functional, but it's never been tested or stocked - but now there are ingredients set out, pans on the stovetop and empty plates on the table.
Well, the easy, fearless acceptance does come to a halt when they step into what appears to be a kitchen and an expectation of them feeding him.
"I just found an advantage to being in hell." And the Devil's palace. "We can't burn it down." Probably? If so, well... it won't be too big of a problem, he guesses.
Is he daunted by much? No. Is he daunted by this? Yes. He's... him, and Zerxus is a devil of some unknown age who has been in hell for long enough to be so lonely it hurts Steve and clearly hasn't had to cook since he's been there.
This is absolutely the 'master of the house' laughing at them and Steve doesn't much like being the entertainment - or feeling of that - but it's not going to exactly let that show (much). Just looks around, orients, turns the stove on (only slightly like it might bite him) and starts cracking eggs into a bowl.
Zerxus stays frozen, for a little bit, caught between different impulses. Most of them aren't even a little bit productive, so after a deeply frustrated grimace he moves to follow Steve into the kitchen.
"You can't burn it or me, and considering that I haven't eaten anything in a decade at least I'm not going to be picky. You'll be fine."
Of course, there's more on the counter; cups of sugar and flour, a stick of butter, a bottle of buttermilk.
In his most obvious show of divine communion so far, Zerxus outright glowers at the ceiling. I have been here for centuries and you expect me to bake.
No answer, which may be clear by the exasperated growl.
"Fine." He has no idea if the measurements are right, or the precise order he's meant to use them in, but he does mix the dry ingredients before adding the wet, and stirring eventually leads to some kind of batter.
Steve manages to beat the scrambled eggs, but not before he stops to watch Zerxus stare at the ceiling and growl.
"We're in hell. It's The Devil. You're looking up when you're having a moment about him."
Just going to point that out, while he tries to figure out if the pan he wants to use is hot, and turns on the heat under the second pan.
"I think that's supposed to turn into pancakes." That or some kind of muffins, but frankly he wouldn't know the difference based on ingredients, anyway. "Just remember: you're glad I'm still human."
He gestures wryly with his free hand, the other finishing off the stirring. "A god is a god."
It doesn't sound reverent, is the thing; he's putting Asmodeus on the level of any other deity but apparently that is not a level that impresses him.
"And your humanity is worth it." It's kind of hilarious, how seriously he seems to be taking this; scooping up some batter with his wooden spoon, carefully dolloping it into the pan, leaving enough space between each mini pancake. "We just have to accept that half of these are going to burn."
There's a metaphor in there, probably. He doesn't feel like dwelling on it.
A god is not a god. He's not really even religious, anymore, but Loki is not Thor and as far as he's concerned neither one of them are not basically just... people. Really long lived powerful ones. That doesn't mean he doesn't hold some space for the possibility of there being something else and-
Look, it's complicated. As long as he can stay with Zerxus in not being overly awed, it'll be fine. Sort of. Except 'not religious anymore' or not, hell is ringing bells and-
He actually stands there with his mind half-breaking, watching Zerxus and not really seeing what he's doing, before he shakes it off and himself out of it, and pours the eggs in the pan. Then grabs a spatula.
"I wasn't exaggerating about how much food I eat. I'll eat whatever we wind up with, in whatever condition, but if this guy's going to make us learn to cook I'm gonna be motivated to work it out."
Even with one eye on the pancakes he can see those gears grinding together, and while he does nod to the idea of learning as he prods a lump of bubbling batter...
"We can table this for after we're done - trying to cook." It could definitely be going worse. "But we should talk about...what this means, for you."
He recognises Hell, and the ruler of it, but that leaves - a whole lot, really.
Has Steve avoided any topic so far? Not really. Is he sure he can work out this one? Maybe not, actually. Then again, Steve hangs around the likes of Stark and Banner and while his brain got the same fucking upgrade as his body, between the abrupt shift in time and company he keeps, he feels like an idiot, a lot.
Also? He understands scrambled eggs and those are working fine. They're going to be overcooked, but at least turn into food.
Zerxus cannot answer that and time this flip at the same time, so he does that first.
"Not realising exactly what the Hells are, and what he is, can lead you down some very unfortunate paths." There's a rueful edge to that, not quite edging into regret.
There are things he desperately wishes he'd understood from the beginning, but certain fundamentals haven't really changed.
"Fine." You do what you want, he'll have the conversation, "but I'm pretty much treating the owner of the house like an omnipotent evil force until told otherwise, not a misunderstood younger brother who's crazier than a bag of snakes."
The choked laugh is half pained and half delighted, and he risks looking fully away from the pancakes to arch an eyebrow at his partner in breakfast shenanigans.
"I appreciate it when you're the one who introduces questions. I dunno, probably be irritated that I'm playing alone, but relieved I chose the option most likely to resent in me being more or less left alone." Tactics versus stubbornness. "What about that was funny?"
"Maybe you should go back to treating him like an omnipotent evil force," he says, with some very real concern. "One of us here needs to eat, and it isn't you."
Will that be enough of a reminder to keep Zerxus in line? Steve is guessing no. But maybe more.
He grabs a plate, to plate the eggs on.
"I'm an only child. Behavior based on that's beyond me. Just that the youngest god of the ones I encountered was the youngest, but he was also adopted and had some... issues around that."
"I'll keep that in mind." It's something? And he does at least finish the rest of the pancakes without incident.
As he slides them onto another plate, "Sounds like something his parents didn't handle well, then."
The pancakes aren't pretty, but not all of them are burnt, and only the one was fully charcoal. (He left that in the pan.) Zerxus sets them down in the middle of the table. There's a jar of honey, which should help.
"No idea," he admits. "I'm a guy and a lab experiment, they're 'gods'. The younger one turned up out of his mind to make trouble, the elder turned up to try to drag him home. I like the older one and have bossed him around a few times, but I don't have details."
He moves to the table and starts dividing the food between two plates - he isn't eating alone. Well, he will if he has to, but he doesn't have to so he's not going to. He absolutely douses everything in honey, though, because it's effectively 'free' calories.
Zerxus doesn't protest, but he does make sure he gets the smaller portion, entirely for practicality's sake. Honestly, it feels - kind of nice, settling down to a meal created with someone else, messy and imperfect as it is.
(But he's definitely keeping the honey to the pancakes.)
"The older one can just - turn up, and get bossed around. That's..."
It doesn't sound like any god he's ever met, even the most humble of the Prime Deities.
"You have gotta stop with the questions," Steve says, mildly exasperated, but sits down and picks up his fork.
Sweet eggs are weird, but Steve's eaten weirder. Given to him in the form of MRE's.
"I don't even know what you find surprising or weird about that one. He's got his own stuff going on most of the time, but God of Thunder and Love or not, the team's mine. Why did you stop eating?"
'I got distracted'. Immediately asks another question. Steve's pretty sure Zerxus is just being contrary at this point, and he's not mad about it. In fact, it's pretty endearing.
He is absolutely just this side of wolfing his food down, though so too distracted to do more than lift an eyebrow. Or notice any texture problems with the food.
"As far as I know. and in the name of being honest, I'm pretty sure the more reasonable of them would be happy enough being classed as powerful aliens from somewhere that happens to be connected to earth. Not the same kind of thing as is happening with this." This encompasses... all of hell. "Probably more on par with you as you are now than him." He's not an idiot. Usually.
"Why does it smell different, now?" Maybe if he makes his own questions pointed, it'll either make Zerxus careful or he'll get something useful.
That level of insight isn't surprising by now, especially considering the recent change. (Asmodeus claimed that it wasn't his doing, and Zerxus doesn't want to believe him but it feels true. A devil's body and soul are the same, and shift accordingly; the idea that Steve makes him feel more human than he has in a hundred years is terrifyingly plausible.)
It takes him a beat too long to answer a very straightforward question.
"I asked him to make the palace a little more hospitable. It will make adjusting easier, and...make it seem like this was on purpose." Finding a human, keeping a human -
The rest of the Hells really don't need to know that something strange is going on.
Steve realizes as he waits on Zerxus answer that he hasn't said a word about anything that came along with the military experiment, except that he eats a lot and heals faster than someone un... tampered with? would.
His inclination is to offer up why the difference in the way the air smells is pretty stark to him.
Then he remembers who he is and decides to Not Do That.
Especially since one of them is way more convinced it wasn't on purpose than the other. "Unless it was intentional." He doesn't even pause his eating. "Knowing not to contradict's a good idea. I'm gonna have to interact with somebody besides you at some point."
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Re: For Steve
Doesn't mean he's playing stupid, but answers will be, or will not be. "Sounds good. I'd make a crack about being hungry enough to eat... anything specific and it'd show up." And then he'd eat it, but he's going to have a moment or twelve if breakfast is a dead elephant.
Priorities are also in play. Until or unless something changes food has to be a major priority for him.
Re: For Steve
"Good, you almost understand his sense of humour." There would be some kind of twist making it worse.
Leading anyone by the hand feels...warmly nostalgic in ways he refuses to dwell on, so they're just going to keep moving. Past the open wardrobe, past the stand where his armour has been fully repaired, through a smaller room that seems to be a study.
"Back when I still ate, he could just conjure anything he wanted, so we won't...have to..."
His words trail off as they actually step into the kitchen. It's designed to look functional, but it's never been tested or stocked - but now there are ingredients set out, pans on the stovetop and empty plates on the table.
Re: For Steve
"I just found an advantage to being in hell." And the Devil's palace. "We can't burn it down." Probably? If so, well... it won't be too big of a problem, he guesses.
Is he daunted by much? No. Is he daunted by this? Yes. He's... him, and Zerxus is a devil of some unknown age who has been in hell for long enough to be so lonely it hurts Steve and clearly hasn't had to cook since he's been there.
This is absolutely the 'master of the house' laughing at them and Steve doesn't much like being the entertainment - or feeling of that - but it's not going to exactly let that show (much). Just looks around, orients, turns the stove on (only slightly like it might bite him) and starts cracking eggs into a bowl.
"If I'm eating alone, this is overkill."
Re: For Steve
"You can't burn it or me, and considering that I haven't eaten anything in a decade at least I'm not going to be picky. You'll be fine."
Of course, there's more on the counter; cups of sugar and flour, a stick of butter, a bottle of buttermilk.
In his most obvious show of divine communion so far, Zerxus outright glowers at the ceiling. I have been here for centuries and you expect me to bake.
No answer, which may be clear by the exasperated growl.
"Fine." He has no idea if the measurements are right, or the precise order he's meant to use them in, but he does mix the dry ingredients before adding the wet, and stirring eventually leads to some kind of batter.
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"We're in hell. It's The Devil. You're looking up when you're having a moment about him."
Just going to point that out, while he tries to figure out if the pan he wants to use is hot, and turns on the heat under the second pan.
"I think that's supposed to turn into pancakes." That or some kind of muffins, but frankly he wouldn't know the difference based on ingredients, anyway. "Just remember: you're glad I'm still human."
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It doesn't sound reverent, is the thing; he's putting Asmodeus on the level of any other deity but apparently that is not a level that impresses him.
"And your humanity is worth it." It's kind of hilarious, how seriously he seems to be taking this; scooping up some batter with his wooden spoon, carefully dolloping it into the pan, leaving enough space between each mini pancake. "We just have to accept that half of these are going to burn."
There's a metaphor in there, probably. He doesn't feel like dwelling on it.
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A god is not a god. He's not really even religious, anymore, but Loki is not Thor and as far as he's concerned neither one of them are not basically just... people. Really long lived powerful ones. That doesn't mean he doesn't hold some space for the possibility of there being something else and-
Look, it's complicated. As long as he can stay with Zerxus in not being overly awed, it'll be fine. Sort of. Except 'not religious anymore' or not, hell is ringing bells and-
He actually stands there with his mind half-breaking, watching Zerxus and not really seeing what he's doing, before he shakes it off and himself out of it, and pours the eggs in the pan. Then grabs a spatula.
"I wasn't exaggerating about how much food I eat. I'll eat whatever we wind up with, in whatever condition, but if this guy's going to make us learn to cook I'm gonna be motivated to work it out."
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"We can table this for after we're done - trying to cook." It could definitely be going worse. "But we should talk about...what this means, for you."
He recognises Hell, and the ruler of it, but that leaves - a whole lot, really.
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Has Steve avoided any topic so far? Not really. Is he sure he can work out this one? Maybe not, actually. Then again, Steve hangs around the likes of Stark and Banner and while his brain got the same fucking upgrade as his body, between the abrupt shift in time and company he keeps, he feels like an idiot, a lot.
Also? He understands scrambled eggs and those are working fine. They're going to be overcooked, but at least turn into food.
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"Not realising exactly what the Hells are, and what he is, can lead you down some very unfortunate paths." There's a rueful edge to that, not quite edging into regret.
There are things he desperately wishes he'd understood from the beginning, but certain fundamentals haven't really changed.
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...He's talking about Loki with that one.
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"And if I told you that he'd prefer it that way?"
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...Well, that is going to be a very lopsided pancake, but that probably doesn't make it less edible.
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Oh well, toasted scrambled eggs are still edible. It'll be fine.
"So he's actually the oldest or somewhere in the middle." It's not a question.
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...Well, one of his pancakes just ignited into actual flames. He rolls his eyes and puts it out with a wave of his hand.
"We're down one pancake." But you see what he means, right? "I think we can count that as a sacrifice, for the lapse in questions."
So really, you did us a favour.
A wave of nausea hits him, but he just grits his teeth until it passes and flips another pancake.
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Will that be enough of a reminder to keep Zerxus in line? Steve is guessing no. But maybe more.
He grabs a plate, to plate the eggs on.
"I'm an only child. Behavior based on that's beyond me. Just that the youngest god of the ones I encountered was the youngest, but he was also adopted and had some... issues around that."
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As he slides them onto another plate, "Sounds like something his parents didn't handle well, then."
The pancakes aren't pretty, but not all of them are burnt, and only the one was fully charcoal. (He left that in the pan.) Zerxus sets them down in the middle of the table. There's a jar of honey, which should help.
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He moves to the table and starts dividing the food between two plates - he isn't eating alone. Well, he will if he has to, but he doesn't have to so he's not going to. He absolutely douses everything in honey, though, because it's effectively 'free' calories.
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(But he's definitely keeping the honey to the pancakes.)
"The older one can just - turn up, and get bossed around. That's..."
It doesn't sound like any god he's ever met, even the most humble of the Prime Deities.
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Sweet eggs are weird, but Steve's eaten weirder. Given to him in the form of MRE's.
"I don't even know what you find surprising or weird about that one. He's got his own stuff going on most of the time, but God of Thunder and Love or not, the team's mine. Why did you stop eating?"
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It would be petty, even immature, to ignore Asmodeus simply because he'd been ignored first.
"I got distracted." Fine, he'll carve into a pancake and bite into that -
Huh. The texture is off, but it's not horrible.
"In my experience, gods don't take orders from mortals. Are they the only two you've met?"
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He is absolutely just this side of wolfing his food down, though so too distracted to do more than lift an eyebrow. Or notice any texture problems with the food.
"As far as I know. and in the name of being honest, I'm pretty sure the more reasonable of them would be happy enough being classed as powerful aliens from somewhere that happens to be connected to earth. Not the same kind of thing as is happening with this." This encompasses... all of hell. "Probably more on par with you as you are now than him." He's not an idiot. Usually.
"Why does it smell different, now?" Maybe if he makes his own questions pointed, it'll either make Zerxus careful or he'll get something useful.
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It takes him a beat too long to answer a very straightforward question.
"I asked him to make the palace a little more hospitable. It will make adjusting easier, and...make it seem like this was on purpose." Finding a human, keeping a human -
The rest of the Hells really don't need to know that something strange is going on.
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His inclination is to offer up why the difference in the way the air smells is pretty stark to him.
Then he remembers who he is and decides to Not Do That.
Especially since one of them is way more convinced it wasn't on purpose than the other. "Unless it was intentional." He doesn't even pause his eating. "Knowing not to contradict's a good idea. I'm gonna have to interact with somebody besides you at some point."
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