deercountry | patisserie lysitherie: preparations

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patisserie lysitherie: preparations

[a. video, un: charon, ota]

Good evening, Trench. The grand opening of... [she frowns as she says the next part] the Patisserie Lysitherie is currently scheduled for November 15th, pending any horrible Trenchian incidents. So most likely, November 30th.

As we prepare for transition into our new space, I'm seeking a few things.

First, Architects or anyone good with woodworking and metalworking to remodel the existing building and to install a few necessary appliances. I need more ovens. Anyone interested in helping with the business is welcome, too, of course.

Second, if any recreational businesses are interested in a steady supply of pastries - for instance, a café or a bookstore - I'm open to partnerships.

Third, if you've got a cake or a sweet from home you're just dying to experience, I'd like to start collecting recipes from all of you Sleepers. I began this business to revive my beloved nostalgic sweets, but I realize... I'd like to be able to bring that experience to others, too.

[b. Willful Machine, early November, ota]

Augh!

[There comes a loud explosion from a rather derelict building in the middle of the Willful Machine district. A half-dozen thumps and clangs follow. ...Then the upper story of the building drops about three feet, releasing an enormous plume of smoke that settles over wary shoppers and merchants. A girl covered in a thick layer of dust stumbles out ten seconds later and falls backwards on the ground.]

I suppose... that takes care of the rodent issue.

[The building belches out a gout of flame behind her.]

[c. Lysithea's home (Gaze), early November, for new and old customers, employees, or other general CR]

[With the bakery operations in full swing and the storefront not yet ready, Lysithea's home is in perpetual activity. Whether she's fulfilling orders, experimenting with new pastries, or bullying her employees, Lysithea works tirelessly to make her dream a reality. For the time being, her work as an Arcane Scholar in the School of Mutter is suspended as she focuses on her craft.]

Look out - hot pan behind you!

Yes, yes, of course - I can do a dozen mini-cakes for you by tomorrow; that won't be a problem.

Here to collect? If you would sign this form here and fill out what you plan to trade...

You've procured the cinnamon? Wonderful! How much did it cost us? Did you have to give up the hematite?

[Regardless of why you're here, she'll open the door with smudges of honey and chocolate all over her face and an exhausted, though satisfied expression.]

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[Oh dear. She had forgotten he could do that. ...On one hand, she wouldn't actually have to run the bakery if she could just get her demon friend to alchemize gold from air. On the other hand, growing wealthy hadn't exactly been the point. Somehow, it always feels vaguely immoral to be accepting Paimon's gold.

Lysithea sighs after a moment's pause, though.]

I think for a deal to be proper, I've got to actually hear from the customer. Peter, is this acceptable to you?

[And... she would like them to communicate. Even a little. It could be the start of a slightly better working relationship between these two.]

( As soon as Lysithea says Peter's name, Paimon's hold over him breaks — it seems like calling them out directly by name works for both.... which is perhaps a new development. But there's Peter, gasping and shifting fretfully against his seat, like he's trying to escape.... something. The room, his body, his entire life, maybe. )

His stupid coins— he keeps making these stupid things—

( The coins tumble out of his hands as he lifts his palms up, the shiny objects clattering loudly onto the floor. )

I don't want to use his stupid coins and they're not even really worth anything—

( Peter is then flung off of his chair like a ragdoll and onto the floor. It's not too hard, certainly not enough to break anything: almost unceremoniously cast aside. He's just kind of... tossed.

Of course, it doesn't stop him from screaming again. Peter screams at the top of his lungs now, rolling on the floor.

Lysithea taught Paimon to respect the customer, that's very true, but this customer..... is causing problems for no good reason and Paimon's had it! Sometimes customers need to be knocked to the ground, don't they?? )

Peter! Don't be so childish.

[This rebuke is aimed at the boy first - he is far too old to be acting in such a petulant manner, particularly when it is clear that Lysithea is maneuvering for him to escape this with minimal damage. Her words come too late, though; Paimon has already reacted in the manner she anticipates:

Displeased.

The exact nature of his displeasure was impossible to predict, though, and Lysithea hops back as the boy begins to writhe across the floor.]

Stop! Stop, both of you!

[A wave of the hand, and a luminous orb of light hangs in mid-air before exploding into blossoms of sparks. This does absolutely nothing, but she remembers how magic has captivated Paimon in the past.]

( There's an issue at the core of all of it here, one that's been ongoing for.... quite some time. A particular thing that leads to the clashing between them, though it's not something that's been talked about much.

Peter's lack of respect for Paimon, the upset it coaxes from the demon....

Paimon's aggression towards his host, how it makes Peter dislike and disrespect him....

The inevitable result is an endless cycle of discord. This absolutely isn't the first time they've ended up rolling around on the floor, and it's less violent than what normally happens, at least (Peter, slammed against the wall or headsmashed into the nearest hard surface). ....Still, it's a certain chaos that doesn't befit the peace of a bakery. Lysithea doesn't deserve putting up with these large children.

Suddenly there's a flash of light, and they're freezing — Paimon first, attention immediately fixed on the spectacular sight, but it's Peter too: staring widely, mouth tipped open. They watch the shower of sparks, eyes slowly following the magical light downwards. They've gone completely silent.

Then they're sitting up, slowly; it's difficult to tell which moves the body and maybe by this point it's both, but there they sit on the floor. The expression on the face is, at least, genuinely apologetic. It probably is coming from both of them: the rare thing they have in common here is that they wouldn't want to upset Lysithea on purpose, whether she's perceived as work boss or friend. )

..........Sorry.

Hmph.

[This is not precisely the right tone to take with your friend / demon employee, but Lysithea glowers down at the pair like a schoolteacher addressing the class miscreants. She is far too accustomed to instructing Paimon at this point to break character - especially if they're going to present themselves like faintly guilty children.]

If you're going to apologize, then apologize to each other.

Peter, I know antagonizing Paimon is your only way to voice your displeasure, but you must see that it's counterproductive. And Paimon - you obviously know that bashing Peter's head on the floor just gives you a headache, too.

Honestly.

[She sighs, and if neither of them immediately protest, she leans in and begins to remove some of the packed delivery boxes from the vicinity of the formerly thrashing boy.]

It's a very frustrating and wholly untenable situation for you both, and it's very unfair. But making it worse doesn't actually solve anything.

It literally just makes it worse.

( Apologise to each other—

There's a visible flinch at that concept, before they're listening intently to Lysithea instead: still drawn in with a certain focus as she repeats both of their names, watching her move some of the boxes.

It.... does help, listening to someone who's so objectively understanding and seemingly un-biased about it all. She's just reporting the facts, and neither are being admonished more than the other. Both have... acted up and both sets of sins are listed, here.

The fact she says it's frustrating... means something, too. It is frustrating, for both parties, and having someone acknowledge that fact... it isn't so common. In fact, it stuns them a little.

It's Paimon who speaks up first: Paimon, capable of being a problem-solver himself way deep down under all the strange botched layers. His voice, distinctive for its slower speaking, heavy-tongued on certain words and hissy at others. )

It has made it worse. ( He agrees, solemnly. Look at him, Lysithea, being the better child. Please take note. ) And it does ache my head.

( He turns towards Lysithea where he's still sitting on the floor, drawing his hands slowly into his lap. His hissy fit seems over, at least.... and he's actually in some kind of Responsible Demon King Mode now?? )

....Perhaps we can communicate, as you suggested. ...Speak, to each other. We have done it before, but my vessel has a difficult time with it. Perhaps you can help us.

( A conference here on the floor... )

I would be delighted.

[responds Lysithea, who realizes as she speaks that she isn't being entirely facetious. Possibly she has grown so accustomed to being overly accommodating of the demon (far more than she would be with literally anybody else) that she has begun to delude herself into thinking that she enjoys dealing with all this.

...Or perhaps she does, a bit. Perhaps there is a part of her that enjoys this level of power - this level of control over an ancient, near-omnipotent being. Perhaps there is a part of her that is curious about where this would all lead. ...If she were more charitable to herself, perhaps she simply wants to do everything in her power to make Peter's life a little bit more tolerable.

This would require unpacking later.]

...It would probably be easier if we all sat at the table, though.

[Hint hint. Lysithea, after carefully stacking her rescued pastries, seats herself at the kitchen table across from where Peter/Paimon had been prior to his outburst and waits for him to join her.

...She has no idea what she's doing.]

( Obedient as ever, Paimon uncurls his legs and stands, slowly moving that way to sit down. This.... does feel better, more civilised. He's... learning. Quietly, the demon places his hands on the table, staring down at them for a long moment.

Then he reaches one out for her. )

If you hold his hand. He will feel more at ease.

( Of course, seconds ago, Paimon was flinging Peter to the floor.... but now he's changed his tune yet again, easing into something more calmed, and perhaps even more capable. Certainly, this agreement isn't for Peter's sake, but for Lysithea's — and ultimately Luna's, as well: the magical beings whom the demon respects on a particular level. It had actually come up with Luna that he and Peter should try to learn how to work together better. Some time has passed since then, and.... well. Now that Lysithea's mentioned it too, maybe it's time to try to make that happen.

Even if the set-up feels something like a spooky séance, especially when Paimon starts asking aloud.... )

...Vessel? Are you still here?

( A strained silence, and then a second voice speaks from the mouth, one with more emotion than the first, tremouring slightly, nervous. )

Stop calling me that.

( ....There's a long pause, and then the demon speaks again, the voice shifting with a quiet hiss. )

You are not meant to give me command. ( As though for emphasis, and to express his woes, Paimon looks at ~~Mom~~ Lysithea with all the chagrin of someone telling on his brother. ) He is not meant to give me command.

[This is exactly like a spooky seance, and regrettably, Lysithea has far less experience with those than magic circles and ritual incantations. She blinks at Paimon -- Peter's hand for only a moment before she slips her cool, white hand into the boy's.

...Incidentally, this is the first time she has held a boy's hand.

Somehow, it does not feel very fulfilling. This is truly the least romantic gesture imaginable and Lysithea, for as little as she cares about these things, quickly decides that this does not count at all.

The first argument begins much more quickly than she had expected.]

Don't I give you commands?

But alright, then. Let's establish some ground rules for communication. No commands. No demands. No insults or tantrums.

Is that reasonable for both of you?

[She says, aware of the irony in the statement 'No commands allowed.' Her voice is cool, composed as it always is. She maintains an excellent facade of confidence.]

Edited 2021-12-31 04:28 (UTC)

( Sorry, Lysithea..... But it definitely doesn't count. This... thing is hardly a boy, really. Just a mess.....

One with many complications, as Paimon listens to her for a long moment in silence and then speaks up quickly before Peter can. He's clearly the dominant twin here. )

You may give me commands, for you are a being of great magic. My vessel is only a human, and therefore has no right.

( There are ancient rules he must follow, and it's all about Hierarchy, for Paimon. He obeys witches, mages, those who have summoned him... and Lucifer. Peter is completely nonmagical and normal (well, aside from the effects this place have had on him); at the very least, he is certainly not a magician or a summoner, and so he has no place in bossing Paimon around or giving him any kind of direction. )

But yes, these rules are reasonable. ( There's a solemn nod, and then he lets Peter speak up again. As soon as he breaks through for that brief moment, he's shaking, shuddering, once again as though very cold. Peter... really doesn't handle this well; it's hard on his mental and physical state alike.

This is inevitably going to end with him passed out cold on the floor of Lysithea's bakery for several hours. )

Y-yeah, that's.... yeah.

( He looks to Lysithea with wide eyes, shuddering still. )

I won't command him or— wh-whatever. But how is it fair that I never get to— to ask him to do anything? He gets to do whatever he wants and I just— I just have to deal with it.

( ...This seems to be less "communicating with each other" and more "airing their grievances about each other to Lysithea." But maybe it's good to get some of it out into the open.... )

[Well, that was very flattering. As much as Lysithea suspected that to be the case (her mind flickering back to the ritual they had performed in Deerington), it was another thing to hear it confirmed directly from the mouth of the demon himself. Conscious that it is inappropriate to appear pleased for any reason, she readjusts her posture and sits herself upright in her chair.

When Peter reappears, she feels a pang of sympathy for his predicament. Of course she sympathizes with the human - but if she sides with him too noticeably, the demon will doubtlessly torment his host even further. There was a careful balance to be made here.]

I understand. You feel like when he's in control, you don't get any input. But I assume when you're out and about, he can just take over at any point?

[Certainly, she had seen something of that nature just transpire.]

Have you tried asking him before? I know it bridles to be domineered like this, and it's perfectly natural to do so, but I do mean asking - and not yelling or complaining.

Yeah, he just— he can just take over my whole body whenever. But I can't do that to him.

( It's extremely unfair...! Peter's mentally weaker, not able to dominate Paimon's spirit the way the demon can do to him. Paimon can (and has, often) just knock him right out. And up until now, maybe he's just kind of... let that happen. He's been afraid to confront this thing; as proven, whenever he tries, he usually ends up on the floor.

Peter's quiet for a few moments as he considers this. He seems reluctant to answer, uneasy, fidgeting a bit. He knows that learning how to communicate with this thing has been a looming prospect; he and Luna have talked about it before, how it could be good for them. But the thought is just... so unpleasant. )

...No, I uh— I never have. But I don't— I don't like talking to him. It's so weird.

( And creepy.... But it has meant that other people have had to act as translator between them. Namely, poor Luna.

Peter frowns again, trying to ignore the fact he can feel the freaky demon practically breathing up under his skin, eager to talk to Lysithea again. Wait your turn...! But something in him seems to deflate, and he shakes his head slowly, looking downcast and anxious, hand shaking a little where it's holding onto Lysithea's almost like a child would. It's... very easy for Peter to give up.... )

....He hates me. I don't think it'd even do any good.

Don't give up, Peter.

[Lysithea is not psychic in any sense. But she can see Peter's thoughts as easily as if they were written on the wall before her, reflected in every contortion of his face, every feature of his body. Her words are quiet - the demon will hear, of course, and they are so very trite and unoriginal so as to be almost completely unhelpful, but...

She knows this about Peter. Knows that he prefers to crumple rather than stand upright. Knows that it is easier to bow to the will of others and protest too feebly for it to make a difference...]

We can make a better situation for you. For both of you. I believe that. But it does mean you're going to have to work for it.

Take a deep breath for me, and then -- can you let Paimon speak?

And... think about how that feels, perhaps. Letting him. Not him taking over or forcing it; not you being subjugated. I hope that feels a bit different.

( Giving up is easier. It's always been his method of handling things, and maybe it's some fucked up way to try to keep the peace. But it does mean that he gets swallowed up, and in this case... literally. It feels like there's less and less of him now, and in turn, more and more of Paimon; Peter's painfully aware of that. The demon's much more.... present here in Trench. It's much easier for him to be. The rules of Deerington aren't numbing him down anymore, and Paimon's growing stronger... even doing things like getting a job—

Maybe it's almost so bizarre of a thought as to be comical, the demon doing something like working at a bakery like this, but... it's very serious, too. It shows how Paimon's able to really build a life for himself. Interact with people, learn and grow. He's not hidden away inside Peter the way he was back in Deerington. He's becoming his own person.

Peter just has to wonder what the consequences of that may be. If the more Paimon becomes himself, the less Peter will be himself. And so the concept of willingly letting the demon speak is... terrifying. He's afraid. He doesn't want to.

But.... maybe to ultimately be more at peace, things like this are going to be necessary.

And so, with another hard swallow and a little squeeze of Lysithea's hand, the boy gives a soft nod and closes his eyes for a moment. Slowly, he finds the mental place where he and the demon push against each other like opposite ends of a magnet, energy abrasive and jagged and always a little uncomfortable. He hovers there and then steps back. Stops pushing. Lets the demon's consciousness flood into his with a little gasp.

After a moment or two, Peter's eyelids flicker and the eyes slowly open again. The pupils swell a little; the breathing becomes stiffer, signs that it's something not quite human pushing outwards. The demon leans in closer to Lysithea (perhaps a little Too Close, as per-usual), eyes wide, seeming... excited. This is important. )

He lets me. He listened. He lets me speak.

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patisserie lysitherie: preparations

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Finally getting to backtags, apologies for the delay!! No worries if you prefer to let this go!