House Log 002: Be our guest

[payingfordeliverance]

Who: A pile of Pandoras and a pile of RWBYs and perhaps some assorted close attachments
What: A mingle log in which two houses alike in dignity have a slumber party for great CR kickstart justice
When: End of the first week in November, before the month becomes established as a horrifying shitshow
Where: Pandora House, which still needs a cooler name

Content Warnings: Nothing in the log prompts; mushroom monsters are present if we feel like being rude.



Somewhere around the end of September, Xerxes Break made a joke about slumber parties explicitly because he knew it would make Qrow Branwen's life difficult and that struck him as very funny. Now, he has to make good on this and throw a proper one. You'd think this would count as the joke backfiring on him but no, no, it most certainly does not -- Break and his pack of feral Victorian teenagers all thrive on a good party in their own way, and having come from an old-fashioned world they are already quite busy preparing to hunker down inside for the wintertime. Unused to being able to pass long, harsh nights with things like television and video games, they have many activities at hand to indulge in, and Break has already been hard at work stockpiling food like some sort of rabid hobbit.

The house itself is warm and pleasantly haunted and cozy in a way that only happens in homes that aren't accustomed to things like electric heat -- there are piles of quilts and blankets scattered around most rooms, free for the taking if someone wants to wrap themselves up, and all the communal rooms have fires going in their fireplaces. The heat that radiates from those spots is the kind that can thaw out frozen bones in a way that nothing else can. And the feel of the house itself is...well, despite the various struggles of its inhabitants, it just feels like the house is daring to hope that it can be happy. After all, it sat abandoned and empty for a long time, the more terrible of the ghosts that haunted it always inevitably chasing away anyone who dared try to settle down here. Those ghosts are gone as of last month, and the fact that every single person living here is now getting a second chance at simply being someone has already begun seeping into the walls themselves. Although it's still early enough in the month that the intense danger November brings with it hasn't yet become widely known, the house feels decidedly safer than the outside all the same, with a faint sense of benevolent sentience hitting as soon as one walks through the door.

That's what you get in a house full of darkbloods (and Oz).


Food: Probably it's no surprise to anyone who knows Break that the kitchen is where that sense of protectiveness is strongest; this is the room he's taken over as his personal territory. Feeling much better with last month's homesickness finally easing up, he spends the day of the party cooking enough to feed the whole crew -- he's been learning to cook mostly in restaurants, so this is no problem. Having been warned that beef in particular is about to become scarce for the season, he's gotten a hold of a good chunk of it and has put together a big cauldron of beef stew, with potatoes and leeks and many, many mushrooms and things to round it all out. This is one of exactly two proper meals that Break has mastered already, given that the basis of a stew is to chop up exactly the right things and then put them in a pot, and the house smells more and more exquisite the closer you get to the kitchen. There's fresh bread, too, and though the loaves are still a little misshapen they taste just fine, and he's recruited Lysithea to help out with her wonderful baked sweets. Break will sneak away for further baking when he's in want of a bit of quiet, too, so expect further treats all night. Of particular note, in the wee hours when the house is getting properly chilly, he produces a wonderful warm drink: A big pot of (non-alcoholic) spiced berry juice, rich and red and warmed up with cloves and cinnamon sticks and slices of the last fresh oranges he was able to snatch up at the docks floating about inside. Victorians know how to do winter food, and why wait for the snow to really get going?

Movies: This is something new and exciting for the Pandoras. Bereft of any kind of proper screen, they've been taught to pin up white bedsheets against the wall in the parlor, and someone's omni has been recruited to project things onto it. Given the recent spooky season and some of the kids learning about Halloween, many of the movies of choice tonight are themed thus, such as Hocus Pocus and The Others. But someone having figured out how to search the omni has resulted in Beauty and the Beast, too, for something a little less creepy. This whole thing is super great. Who knew you could go to the theater without having to get dressed and leave the house?

Arts and Crafts: The other thing happening in the parlor is the coffee table being taken over by art supplies. The Alices like to make things, and have been amusing themselves lately putting together decorations for the house. We have paints, fancy papers with pretty patterns on, scissors, glue, glitter, the works. The sorts of art supplies you'd expect from a couple of girls who spent the bulk of their early lives locked, in some capacity, in a tower. It's something fun to play with while the movies are running. It is possible that White Alice may be working on painting swirly bits on an animal skull of some sort. Don't worry about it, it's fine.

Game Room: The house does have an actual dining room, nice and long and with high ceilings. Given that the kitchen with its huge wooden table is plenty big enough to eat in, they haven't bothered to use it as such. Instead, there's a table set up off to the side for board games and jigsaw puzzles -- and, more importantly, the bulk of the room is totally clear for things like indoor badminton and a ball made for kicking about. Possibly this is because Break spent all of September trying to convince himself it was silly to worry that the Alices had been eaten by something only to have them turn up in October and tell him of having been eaten by a giant fish, and he freaked out and decided he doesn't want the kids playing outside where the beasts are unless they have to. He is not telling.

Training: That said, weapons training simply needs to happen outside, and it's entirely possible that sooner or later it will come up that this slumber party is full of weapons enthusiasts and at least four of them, inexplicably, are scythe users. If that happens, there's a clear space outside in the backyard that Break has been using for his own drills, grass already trampled flat and a few nice sturdy posts that a blade has clearly been whacking away at. There's a nice stone wall around the property that will keep a great many of the unsavory creatures out, as some of the back used to be a garden which has long since grown wild, and Break has taken a hint from Gaze and set up several tall incense burners, too. If anyone is feeling in want of a midnight spar for some reason, this is where they can go -- but keep in mind that the wall won't keep the poisonous floating mushroom creatures out, and given that said garden has proven to be a mushroom oasis, the horrible little shuffling ones that induce hellscape hallucinations may be about, too.

Comments

[payingfordeliverance]

Before the Party: Prep Time

An unexpected blessing in Break's food quest funtimes has been the discovery that there is no need to head out into dubious places to forage for mushrooms -- turns out the garden out back will provide. No fancy truffles, alas, but plenty of other sturdy edible kinds that can be used to fill out meals. They're best fresh, naturally, so as part of the preparations for the day Break can be found strolling around outside with a basket over his elbow and Baltus trotting along behind with a basket of his own, ready to help sniff out the good stuff. Lunch will be a big skillet of mushrooms cooked up in garlic butter and a touch of white wine, incidentally -- they're kind of a punch in the face because after several sad bland attempts Break has decided to head in the opposite direction, as far as seasoning goes, but you can't have too much garlic so it's fine. He makes a pot of rice to go with it and mostly doesn't end up with crunchy bits on the bottom.

Much of the rest of the afternoon, however, is dinner prep for Break. He sort of enjoys cooking, he's realized. It's more amusing on its own than he expected, and for all that he was determined to sort out what he could do on his own initially, it's pleasant when one of the kids swings in and sticks around to help peel potatoes or wash the dishes. He has all the veggies for the stew spread out on the table to be dealt with, and he'll idly chop some himself when he isn't up to his elbows in bread flour. Is he brave enough to attempt bread bowls for the first time today, given that they are expecting company...? Perhaps, perhaps not.


Movie Time

Break's initial reaction to the movies was to wave his hands around and insist no one pay him and his nonfunctioning eyeball any mind, please enjoy yourselves. This was a coverup for a pout, and Baltus would not have it. After a lot of shoving and offended dog noises, the end result is Break curled on the corner of a couch with his horrifying blind speed-knitting in his lap and his omen sprawled on the back of the couch, head draped over Break's shoulder and aimed intently at the screen so that Break can see what Baltus sees over the link between them.

The movie he sits in on is Beauty and the Beast. He doesn't say much during the movie, because talking at the theater is extremely rude. But it's painfully obvious that he's enjoying it -- it's definitely the most he's laughed in a single hour since he's been here -- and when it's over, he puts his knitting down to spoil Baltus with affectionate chin rubs for his help.

"Lumiere was the best. Definitely, definitely," he observes fondly. "He and Cogsworth were simply myself and Mister Reim."


Introvert Time

He may be formally trained with an aristocratic shmoozing game face and he may genuinely enjoy people, but sooner or later Break always sneaks away for some quiet at parties, and this happens multiple times through the course of this one. He patrols the grounds of the house at least once, checking in on this and that and enjoying the chill in the air, and he spends a little time in the game room, too -- he's gotten his hands on a badmintion birdie with a special whistle inside that tells him where it is, and he enjoys chasing the thing around the room with a racket in much the same way Baltus will sometimes fling things for himself to catch when he is bored. Like omen, like person.

But it's the kitchen he retreats to most often, either for an idle snack himself or to do up some new treat. At some point in the night he gets it into his head that it might be nice to have fresh cinnamon rolls in the morning, and if he gets them started now he can let them proof in the oven overnight. These, he hasn't made by himself before, so they're sure to be lumpy and weird and probably a little burned in the morning. But he's been around while Lysithea makes them, so he has the basic idea, and it'd be great if he did pull it off, right?

"Help me read over the recipe again, would you?" he asks as he prepares, gathering up all the measuring spoons and things he doesn't want to chase all over the table and slipping them into his apron pockets. He's speaking to Baltus, but if someone else has slipped in, Break won't mind. Hanging out with just one person is still quiet, compared to a whole party.

introvert

[notimeforfailure]

Lysithea was not, by nature, a social person.

The skills she did possess included: baking, making small talk, and recognizing when an unusual invitation slash request was rooted in a desire for the people in Break's life to grow as fond of each other as Break was of all of them. As they had just spent their last encounter admitting various uncomfortable truths and cautiously advancing their own threshold of personal intimacy, Lysithea thought she had better attend.

At some point in time surrounded by a horde of strangers, she feels a need to step into the kitchen and 'check on her cakes.' Not that she felt awkward - Lysithea never felt awkward as a general rule, and if she did, it was the fault of the people around her - but more that she needed room to breathe.

"Trying something new?"

She slides the flour towards him.

"I won't interfere if you want to do this yourself."

[payingfordeliverance]

"-- ahaha, you've caught me."

The kitchen is an excellent place to breathe, even with Break in it. This is in no small part because he uses the kitchen for that purpose himself. He has his own bedroom, of course, but the point of a bedroom is that it has one's bed in it and in Break's case this provides an opportunity to lay in it for hours staring into darkness and being existential.

No such opportunity in the kitchen. The kitchen has teapots and tasty things and a great many toys to play with, now that Break is learning how to use them. When he's working and learning at Lysithea's house he makes do with what he has, relying on her to set things up for him and to swing around to check on him from time to time, and he likes to avoid the other bakers' shifts both simply to avoid them but also to prevent such annoyances as having to hunt down communal supplies when others make off with them. Here in his own home, the kitchen is arranged just so with everything in its proper place always, and a great many other helpful attributes for a blind man -- such as canisters with the labels engraved into them directly so that he can feel the letters out, and the vanilla has been transferred to a wide-mouthed jar, such that Break can scoop it out instead of having to pour it into a measuring spoon. While he certainly isn't hesitant at Lysithea's, the easy confidence he moves with here is much more natural, and that makes him easier to be around than usual, too.

"Mm. Pretty soon we'll be having exactly the sort of morning that wants cinnamon buns hot out of the oven, right?" he says as he rolls up his sleeves. "No time like the present to start practicing."

[notimeforfailure]

She observes his easy movements with some appreciation, understanding that regardless of how often Break came over, it would never be quite the same as his own household, the space with which he was most intimately familiar. Here, he held sway over all things, and his actions were as swift and certain as if he suffered from no vision impairment whatsoever. There is a certain air of calm about this kitchen - stillness, relaxation that does not accompany Break when he keeps company with the outside world.

"I should say that all mornings are suitable for cinnamon buns hot out of the oven."

Not that she had known what cinnamon buns were prior to coming to this world, but she had quickly seen their necessity. Lysithea observes him in silence for a short period of time, occasionally sliding over a needed tool or a condiment when the appropriate time comes. Less so because he needed it and more simply to have something to do.

"...Your friends don't call you Xerxes, do they?"

This is completely off-topic and irrelevant to anything else that has been discussed so far. It's on her mind, regardless.

[payingfordeliverance]

Break is content to do his own thing. Baltus, in a reflection of Break's companionable mood, slinks over to Lysithea and rests his long head on her knee when he is not needed. This turns out to be the bulk of the time -- the first step to these rolls is simply making a dough and setting it to rise, and Break does that all the time these days.

He hums snatches of the music from the movie under his breath, but glances up at her question.

"Ah? My closest friends do, at home. My family calls me Xerx. 'Called', I suppose." He shrugs. "None of them are here."

[bolstafir]

Omens sure can do a lot of useful things, huh. It almost makes Qrow tempted to summon his sometime, but he's long had a contentious relationship with his soul. Knowing his luck, it'd probably burn the house down. Or a house down, at least. Someone's house.

But tonight is not a night to brood about such things. It's a good night and they've had a movie and good food and Qrow would prefer to think about complications later.

"Their one song was pretty spot-on for tonight, huh. Who's Reim?"

Break had never mentioned him before, back when they'd talked about their kids. He's curious about this guy, honestly.

[payingfordeliverance]

"Mm! Reim was my best friend."

And talking about him, it seems, isn't nearly so painful as discussing a Rainsworth -- or perhaps it's that, after the past couple of months, Break has come to welcome the chance to talk about his past because he wants to, and not because some illusionary corpse is bullying him into it. That this movie and its happy ending have made him feel good helps, too. To be reminded of those losses in nice ways, yes, why can't we have more of that in this wretched place?

"He was half my age when we met, but there was the soul of an eighty-year-old man in that little body," he continues, his voice warm and fond. "We fought like cats back then, but...definitely, definitely one of the most dutiful, devoted guys you'll ever meet. He was so incredible at getting things done I'm told young Elliot used to believe he was a fictional character."

Baltus is really into these chin rubs. One of his back legs begins kicking in appreciation, which means Qrow may or may not be getting tapped in the back of the head by a happy dog foot, depending where exactly he's sitting.

"Ahaha, he used to go behind my back to gather all the paperwork I'd left undone and chase me around our workplace with it for hours. Mm, but -- he was always at my side when I needed him, whether I wanted him there or not. To know he'll be looking after things for me still, it makes me worry a little less."

[bolstafir]

It's an interesting glimpse into Break's old life -- into who he was, beyond the relatable things they share. The monster hunting, the kids to watch out for. Qrow certainly knows stuffy people who are invaluable to have at your side in a crisis, but he wouldn't say he's particularly close to either of the two that come to mind straight away. Glynda was his senior colleague, ultimately, connected mutually through Ozpin. And Winter...well, Winter was Atlesian. It always had been complicated.

Qrow, meanwhile--ah, it's like he said to Clover, back when. He's found that working alone tends to be for the best.

"Ugh, paperwork. Pretty sure I had a colleague who would've done that to me if I couldn't just fly away."

He is sure this has caused Glynda no end of aggravation, but in fairness, that was also Ozpin's doing, so. It evens out!!! Or something.

"You'd think with all the time they spend nagging us to do it, they could get it done already, right?"

Who needs bureaucracy, quoth the ex-forest vagrant.

"He sounds like a solid guy, though. Glad you've got someone like that watching out for your kids."

Qrow doesn't say that there would be a version of him taking care of things back there even if he were to wash up in Trench; from their past talks, he doesn't think it would be a particularly comforting sentiment to hear, especially from someone who's chosen to leave his old life behind at this point.

[payingfordeliverance]

"Haaaah, back then I was able to teleport through shadows, but it never shook him long." Break is imagining Reim shaking his fist at the sky and yelling Qrow, you asshole at a bird as it wings away and it fits right in with everything in his memories, honestly. "We used to enjoy sitting together in the evenings sometimes, having a drink and eating sweets. That began when he realized constant supervision was the only way to prevent me from doodling naughty things in the margins to get back at my boss for sending me on stupid missions with stupid people."

Break is obviously very pleased with himself over his past menace behavior. And so it becomes clear that Break and Qrow also share the "insubordinate motherfucker" hat.

prep time

[swornto]

"Don't worry! Gilbert taught me all about peeling potatoes." Oz was quite eager to help with the preparations. It helped distract from how excited he was to attend a slumber party. He's heard of these things and thought they sounded like fun. It's one thing to drag Gilbert under a pillow fort or let young Ada direct a tea party... Partying with many people, some of whom he doesn't even know well, is very different!

He's tapping his foot lightly to vent some of that anxious energy as he stands over the potato collection. "Is this all I can do for you? I've got no other plans today."

[payingfordeliverance]

"Oh, did he?"

That is honestly reassuring to know. If Gilbert allowed Oz to do literally anything with a knife it will have been with the catch of having Gilbert himself hovering anxiously and drilling safety protocols into his head, lest his precious master end up with a teeny tiny nick upon his precious pristine hands or something. Probably this means Break won't have to worry about him casually whacking a finger off in the middle of all this.

Nicks, he cares about less. Honestly letting Oz have a knife might actually be a great way to summon Gilbert. Break imagines Oz saying "ow" exactly one time, very softly, and Gilbert crossing dimensions on the spot so as to burst out of the cabinet to scream at him for his lax supervision. Yes, using Oz as bait is a great idea as always --

"That will be useful over the wintertime. I've a connection that will get us a great many potatoes to put away, once we've gotten whatever that hissing thing is out of the root cellar." Break discovered it last week and decided that was going to be a problem for Future Break, but it will have to be very soon. "Mm -- there's always a great many things to be done in here. I suppose my return question to you is, is there anything you'd like to learn, if you've nothing else to do?"

[swornto]

Ah, what a question. Oz nearly slows in his potato peeling to mentally turn that question around in his brain. There certainly as things, which tempt Oz like sirens. Just like sirens, he 'knows' he should not indulge. The Trench is a rough place and Oz needs to stay sharp. He thinks that his being overly alert and serious gives room for the Alices to go feral.

"... I asked a friend to teach me how to pickle food. Maybe I could even learn to make jam." His answer is not a hobby for hobby's sake, but something practical to learn. To Oz, learning to manage food is the same kind of important that sharpening his swordsmanship is. "Maybe I can learn more about foraging too. Winter is coming, and all."

[payingfordeliverance]

Ironically, Break's thoughts are along the same lines. The whole reason he's been learning to cook and bake is that someone needs to be taking care of the household, and if he -- the one who's already had the opportunity to have a second chance at life, full of love and laughter -- is the one to do it, it will give the kids room to choose their new lives for themselves in a way that their own world never would have allowed.

He doesn't quite recognize that Oz is doing the same thing, though.

"Hoh? I didn't know you were interested in such things." Not that it's a bad thing if he is, but he'd have expected Oz to be out and about with more dance lessons, perhaps spending his time around those clubs and things people keep opening. "Well, we'll want all of that sort of thing we can get. On top of the threat of scarcity and how unreliable the imports may be come wintertime, we really don't know how many other faces might show up here in the coming months, right?"

slithers in here late

[entreats]

Ange still isn't any good at parties. Yes, despite having organized one herself last month, but her hands were practically tied on that one. Or perhaps she deliberately tied them herself, considering her affection for Ruby just wouldn't let her do anything else under those circumstances.

And it's the latter that brings here here too, considering she was dragged over by her girlfriend. At least she knows.. some of the people present here..? Maybe that makes it easier?

No, the truth is that it never makes it easier. And that's why Ange desperately tries to stick to something she at least is pretty familiar and comfortable with - watching movies, in this case. And it's not like Disney Delsney movies are something Ange actively dislikes, so.. it's actually kind of fun, watching it.

Though rather than remarking something about that once the movie was over, of course Ange is going to cover up any sentiment of Having Fun with a dry remark the moment she hears Break speak up.

"Isn't it going a little bit too far to compare yourself to a candlestick?"

[payingfordeliverance]

For all that she is half-to-mostly regretting her life choices, Break is pleased that Ange showed up. For one thing, it is always best for there to be at least two introverts in the room at parties, as there is safety in numbers and solace in the sense of mutual dwindling mental capacity as the extroverts tornado around them. For another, she amused him at the last one, and her deadpan humor is refreshing. He's from a world of sparkling aristocrats and has been formally trained in the art of Small Talk™. Sometimes one simply wants to be snarky with somebody.

"Why should that be so? He was a human before he was a candlestick, and who he was didn't change in that time. Is Mister Qrow less Qrow when he is a crow-shaped Qrow? In my experience, both versions are equally liable to steal one's fries."

[entreats]

"Stop right there."

Maybe that kind of dramatic statement would have a little bit more impact if it was said with some actual energy in its tone - but this is Ange, so of course said energy isn't there at all.

Instead she bothers to stick out her hand sideways from where she is - probably on the entirely opposite side of the couch, probably - and points at Break with a finger.

Even if he can't see it, she feels like this is important, apparently.

"If you say even one more word about him, you might be in trouble. There's ears everywhere here." (Read: there are some Incredibly Nosy Kids at this slumber party who are more than willing to take Break picking this specific example as something more than it is.) "I'm just warning you."

[payingfordeliverance]

"Ooooh. You're quite right. It will make a much better show if they think I am being sneaky and keeping secrets."

Break is not afraid of their gossip. He doesn't enjoy it nearly so much as he's pretending he is, nor is he underestimating the level of mess it could make. His adoptive daughter at home had a horrid penchant for dramatic romance novels and Break was absolutely not delighted to learn the kid of his who turned out to be a phenomenal cook had decided to become so solely because she'd used those novels as inspiration to make up an imaginary traumatic past on Break's behalf that left him eating nothing but cake, when Gilbert had expressed concern for his health. But as Break told Qrow himself before, this sort of nonsense is harmless, and Break will tolerate it if it gives the kids something fun to do in a world that's going to do its damnedest to hurt them.

Anyway, the bulk of the gossip about him at home was about what a massive jackass he is, which was deliberate on his part. Something so dumb as his nonexistent love life is sort of refreshing, honestly.

"Fine. If I were to become a spoiled housecat, which is what I should like to do in my next life, you would still know it was me. I would still be doing all the best 'Xerxes Break' things, like sleeping in sunspots all day only to get up and hunt ghosts and things all night, and making a nuisance of myself when others are trying to get work done."





Break might be starting to get suspicious about just how many stray batcats one of his kids has been smuggling into the house.

Introvert

[ghostharasser]

Winding up invited to this party was a funny turn of events. Getting invited to a sleepover at all was kind of a big deal to Dipper, in ways that don't mean a lot to anyone but maybe he and his sister. As social outcasts of a particular type, Mabel had only begun having them very recently. Dipper, ever the loner back home, didn't and found the topic a bit loaded for a number of reasons.

So, when Oscar had invited him to one he was, admittedly, very touched, while also very apprehensive. Ultimately, he went because he knew a lot of the people there, and was even more amused to find it hosted at Mr. Break's estate. Well, he'd been meaning to schedule a follow up with him anyway.

He keeps to himself most of the party, hanging close to Oscar, so it takes ducking into the kitchen for some quiet time for him to finally find Break and greet him. By which he will do by just kind of sneaking up at his elbows with an abrupt.

"Hey man, what's up?"

[payingfordeliverance]

Alas, Break is nigh impossible to sneak up on even without his omen handy, so he fails to give a satisfying jump at Dipper's sudden presence. This is fine. Break is still a Victorian, and so Dipper is rewarded in other ways.

"Hah?" he asks, very seriously. "Up where?"

Baltus had been trotting around the kitchen with a large turnip in his mouth, which has been granted to him for chewing. Similarly befuddled, he plonks his noodle bum down next to them and aims his snoot towards the ceiling. Is something interesting up there in the rafters? ...ew, cobwebby.

[ghostharasser]

It is a shame he did not spook him, but that's fine. Him being a weird Victorian is still funny in it's own right. He just grins, sliding his hands into his pockets and bounces on his heels a bit.

"It's slang, dude. It translates roughly to--" And Dipper clears his throat and puts on a very silly Hoity Toity gentleman voice. "--My good sir, how are you on this fine day?"

When he is not rambling at length about ghosts, he is definitely as bratty as they come, apparently. Isn't that cute, Break?

[payingfordeliverance]

Wow! Not even remotely.

"Ah," says Break, who is also not clear on what a dude is exactly and is not going to ask. Maybe Qrow knows what a dude is and will explain without making fun of him for it. "It is a fine day, I suppose...wait a moment, why are you here?"

He says it without any viciousness or anything. He is just puzzled. This child is not one he was expecting. Baltus, unconcerned, flops over to chew on his turnip.

Introvert Time

[spiritwalks]

During one of Break's patrols, he'll find a massive woolly pig nosing around for grass to eat — regardless of whether there's any greenery or not. When Break approaches, the shaggy creature looks up at the man and flares its nostrils in greeting. Its demeanor is sweet and gentle like a cow, but its sheer size suggests it's probably more of a beast of burden than a lawnmower/milk machine.

[payingfordeliverance]

...this thing sure is huge and wooly, yes. It's a weird enough visitor that Baltus shows it to him through their link. To Break's credit, although he flicks the catch on his cane open just in case he needs it, he makes no move whatsoever to attack the creature automatically. There are plenty of beasts and things around that are solid threats and Break won't tolerate them around his house -- that's part of the reason he's out here at all. But there are also plenty of omens around, and given the high esteem in which he holds his own, he's not about to attack something just for snorting at him.

"Ah, good evening," he says politely, just in case. Then he and Baltus stand there with identical quizzical head tilts, Baltus watching, Break listening. It's cute.

[spiritwalks]

The creature flares its nostrils again, as it slowly chews on whatever snack it found. At the same time, someone else walks in from round the back: A lanky person standing at 6'5", with angular features that suggest an elven heritage, and shabby wool clothing that sharply contrasts with much of the town's elegant Victorian aesthetic.

"—Ah." He freezes. Then smiles at the pair of confused faces (one furry, the other decidedly young-looking). To the weirdo's credit, he at least manages to look halfway sheepish. "Pardon me, friends. I see you've found my pig."

[payingfordeliverance]

"Is that what it is?"

The snout is correct, he supposes, but the creature Baltus has just shown him does not look like any of the piggies who were drawn in a few of Sharon's storybooks, even disregarding the subject of fairy tale waistcoats. Still, Break relaxes visibly. The creature has a chaperone and Baltus isn't picking up on any sort of threat here, so probably there is no need to be on edge.

"An omen?" he asks, as his own trots forward to exchange polite sniffs. Even if the pig is not an omen, Baltus enjoys aiming his own overly long snoot at interesting things. Investigate, investigate.