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[advanced]

[He doesn't want to know the names of the people she trusts, because he's willing to bet on one name featuring prominently. If everyone here doesn't trust Steve Rogers then something is more wrong than can be fixed.]

I'm not asking for them. You have the knives, that's what I want.

[heavensreader]

[The odd thing is, Kesara certainly likes Captain Rogers, but her trust is a more tangled thing. People who are too kind upset it just as much as people who are too suspicious. She bites her lower lip and hugs her arms to her chest, a defensive gesture.]

I can't give them away for nothing. I can't - if you do something terrible with them, it'll be my fault, won't it? Give me something... some talisman, some way to guard against you, at least!

[advanced]

[He does feel for her, but not enough to compromise himself. There's no guarantee he can give her that she'll be safe from him, no matter his wishes.]

No. Whatever I do with a weapon in my hand is not on you.

[Not always on him either, but that's not for her to know.]

Food and clothing, that's what I have. That's all I have.

[heavensreader]

It is if the weapon is mine. If I might've stopped it. Isn't that true?

[She talks to keep him talking, now. He won't bargain. She won't get it directly. She has to think in slippery ways - other paths, other things.]

Do you really need weapons more than you need clothing? Now isn't as cold as it gets.

[advanced]

[He could argue that the weapon ceases to be hers as soon as it falls into Bucky's possession, absolving her of any responsibility for whatever the knife is used for after that. But it's getting dangerously close to a proper conversation and he's too wary of revealing pieces of himself to get drawn into that now. Even with a kid.

There's a long pause as he debates just hanging up. It would be the safer thing to do. But he does want those knives.

So when the reply comes he ignores her attempt to draw him in, focusing just on the question of clothing versus weaponry.]

I've been colder.

[heavensreader]

[As hints to pounce on go, it's the very tiniest. But she pounces. He's been colder. If he means that, beyond just deflecting her again. She does not know many places in the world that are colder. And she does not know many kinds of men who go to these places.

Maybe a little more of a line, a bigger bait? He's obstinate, and it's downright impossible to do this when he insists on using writing. If only they were truly speaking, why, she's sure...!]

There won't be help if you're frostbitten. There used to be this... but it's stopped now. One man had to cut his own toes off.

[The chronology is a little off, there, but he won't know it.]

[advanced]

[He's not surprised to hear stories of frostbite. He's lived decades in Siberia among the coldest of weather, he's seen men and women lost body parts just for being unlucky enough to get caught ten minutes too long out in the snow.

He could tell her that he is used to these conditions. He could tell her that he has pushed through worse. He won't. He's revealed enough already, so he brusquely pulls the conversation back to where it should be.]

Are you going to trade me the knives?

[heavensreader]

[Blocked yet again. Kesara could just about explode. For all her efforts, the smallest hint of frustration slips through to show on her face. And once she realizes that, she knows she's lost the game.

She hates losing. There is nothing in the world that she hates more. So she decides to be brusque right back.]

You're not safe. I can't trust you. I should keep the knives to defend myself from people like you.

[At least, she thinks, he can't tell her that she's wrong.]

[advanced]

[That's a no.

And she's not wrong, he is a dangerous man. But he doesn't need a knife to be dangerous, he could kill any target given to him with his bare hands and the materials strewn around.

It's pointless to keep going down this route, though, as he's also lost what he wants. Possibly more irritating for her, and very rudely, he just hangs up without answering.]