Xerxes Break (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
payingfordeliverance) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
deercountry2021-11-05 03:47 pm
payingfordeliverance) wrote in deercountry2021-11-05 03:47 pm
Entry tags:
House Log 002: Be our guest
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.
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.
no subject
It was rare for Oscar to attend a party put on by his extended group of friends where he wasn't part of the small army of chefs that had been volunteered for the job-- and, for once, he had a chance to admire the spread that had been laid out by another's hand. He was nowhere near the bottomless pit that was Ruby Rose, but he still felt compelled to sample a bit of everything throughout the night. Baking was an art form that he had yet to fully master, and a good soup was layered with a multitude of complexities that a person wouldn't even consider until they set foot in the kitchen.
He was beaming, but also making mental notes about everything for future experimentation in his own kitchen. And, like any good farmlad, he would make a point to locate the chefs and thank them before the end of the night.
Movies
There was a simplicity to be found in the moving images and stories found only on a screen, and the kid in Oscar loved it. It was a chance to be with friends and relax-- which was something they all needed as the days grew shorter with the turning of the seasons.
When everything grew quiet between movies, he would try to sneak into the kitchen on his own to covertly make a batch of popcorn-- as covert as popcorn could be, anyway.
Quiet
Oscar was never one for crowds. He had attended a small country school before he left his home to join Ruby and her team, and even his leisure hours were spent in libraries or scouring his Aunt's bookshelves for new reading material rather than out playing kick the can with the neighboring kids close to his age. Even his outdoor activities had been spent in the quiet solitude of the wilderness near his home, where his only company was the wildlife among the trees.
This did not get better upon arriving in Trench-- his Paleblood had made certain of that. While he didn't necessarily pick up on individual thoughts of others at random, he did feel a near consistent buzz from the crowded house at any given moment. The disorder he all but heard was tolerable for a while, but after a point he simply needed a breather.
Thus, he could be found outside near the incense burners, with a small mug of cocoa in hand and a bowl of popcorn at his side. Stray kernels would be tossed toward curious critters that drew near-- but that was all.
Oscar was just glad to have a break from the constant, unintelligible whispers at the edge of his awareness.
no subject
Baltus is on his back on the floor, scooting around in a twisty sort of slither, paws ridiculously in the air. It is possible he is scratching his back. It is also possible that omen and person are both just deranged and Baltus is merely entertaining himself. Who knows.
no subject
"Oh. Hi, Mr. Break!"
He spoke up-- direct and unambiguous in his greeting. Such was polite, after all.
"I-I didn't know you were still in here. Did you need any help? Or...?"
Like always, the boy's very demeanor screamed 'helpful.' He just didn't want to be in anyone's way.
no subject
It is, of course; he's well aware. Break doesn't bother to give him more than a wave, busy with his juice fixings, but Baltus bothers to roll to his feet and shake himself and trot over to give the boy a proper dog-greeting. People just get so happy when they are allowed to pet him, which is great when you are an emotional support omen.
"Nonsense; you're a guest here. Anyway, I've nothing troublesome going on in here at the moment," he adds, well aware that a kid like Oscar is not liable to give a single damn about his guest status. "Mm, but -- to have wandered in here, are you in want of anything?"
no subject
"Yeah, it's me." He clarified at the question, and he pulled away from the dog to pull out a bag of popcorn-- which he shook, rattling the kernels inside.
"I was just gonna try to make some popcorn. Have you ever had any before?
no subject
"Oh, sure, sure. We used to put it on strings to make garlands in the winter. Hey, hey, Baltus, do you remember where we found the popper?"
Baltus sneezes and trots off to one of the cabinets, contemplating which one exactly before he pulls one open. There is a rope around the cabinet handle that he can easily grab with his teeth, for just this purpose. While everyone should be grateful that Baltus does not have opposable thumbs, it is useful for him to be able to grab things for Break, so here we are.
If Oscar follows him, he'll find the omen is rooting around in search of a long-handled basket. There's a fire crackling merrily in the fireplace at the side of the room, ready and waiting.
no subject
Oscar breathed when the noodle dog of an omen managed to uncover the popper, eyes wide in his delighted surprise over the device.
"I was just gonna use a pan with a lid-- but this is much cooler!"
Excited, he bounced up and down on his toes. It was practically wintertime, and the crackling fire was oh so delightful in the brisk weather that had beset the town.
"You sure it's okay to use this? I haven't seen one of these in a long time. The one we had at the farm was an antique, and my Aunt didn't want to get it too messed up because it made her think of her grandparents..."
It was the age old problem-- buying the fancy copper cookware for special occasions, but then never finding an occasion that was special enough to use it, so that the cookware itself ended up never used. The popper had known the love of steady hands and a crackling fire once, but that had been decades ago.
no subject
The one Oscar is holding may well also be an antique, given that it came with the house, but whatever memories may have been associated with it are gone with the ghosts now -- or most of them, anyway. Scrabbles the disembodied hand may well have feelings about the popcorn popper, given that its domain, like Break's, seems to be the kitchen. Fortunately Scrabbles has retreated for the evening, shy about scaring visitors off by way of being a horrifying scuttling body part without a body, so no one need worry about its presence tonight.
no subject
He was already pulling out the package of popping kernels as he spoke, and eyeballing both the popper and the portion he had brought along for how much to put into it.
"We should probably make some for everyone too, shouldn't we? This.. isn't exactly quiet."
Fortunately, he had already prepared for such a possibility. Such was the wonder of having a bottomless carry bag in his possession.
no subject
Understatement.
"If you've brought enough, anyway. Mind the dark one in particular. She's something of a glutton."
no subject
"I know to be careful with that one. She's already been eyeing me like I'm a cupcake at that cute bakery in town. The baker is fantastic-- but I don't think she'd like it if someone compared her cupcakes to... uh, me."
no subject
This, Break decides, is a problem for Future Break. Preferably, it is a problem for Future Somebody Else, and as such will be very funny for him personally.
"I don't know, you are rather fluffy," he muses aloud, electing to tease Oscar instead for the moment. "Would anyone notice a difference if we threw sprinkles at you and put a cherry on your head?"
no subject
"Am I?" he asked between giggles. "It sounds a little sticky, but I know a few people who are more than willing to help test out that theory for you."
no subject
Says Break, who could have twenty people scolding him at once about how he consistently proves himself to be a kind person who goes out of his way to take care of others and still believe whole-heartedly that he is damnable scum. Despite being pleased at having made Oscar laugh so. The last time they interacted properly, the boy was an unhappy owl puddle sitting on Break's head. It was cute, but this is better.
no subject
"Guess I'm a creampuff, then." He said, brightly. "But, I think I'm in pretty good company. You seem pretty creampuff-like, too."
no subject
It's baffling, honestly. He sort of misses it. His voice in this moment is decidedly wistful, but there's a notable twinkle in his unseeing eye.
"The transition to this place must have thrown me off of my game," he adds, almost apologetically. It's not a lie. "Don't worry, don't worry. I'm certain I'll be back to my usual mess-making soon enough."
Oscar may or may not realize in this moment that when Break sent him off with gossip about old man sleepovers, he was absolutely trying to cause a bit of chaos in that house on purpose.
no subject
He cut himself off quickly, remembering how Vyng had chided him for slipping and using foul language because he got excited despite the fact that a mutual friend of theirs was barely older than Oscar and swore enough to make hardened sailors blush. Oscar quickly shook his head
"Don't apologize. I live with the queen of mess-making. It's fine! Life is more interesting when it's a little crazy!"
no subject
"Wait for it," he advises, with a smug little grin that says he is completely content with his own assholedom. Whether he actually manages to prove himself or simply digs his own benevolent hole deeper remains to be seen. "Then, shall we make popcorn?"
Quiet
Oz had escaped the party himself, for his own set of reasons. It was overwhelmingly bright there and occasionally made him think of the souls who had exited his life. He carries a mug of spiced juice himself, but otherwise doesn't want to overindulge. They may regret not having leftovers later.
Quiet
Oscar chuckled, watching a little squirrel-like creature frantically stuff another piece into it's bulging cheeks. One person, or even two, were fine-- he just needed a break from the rabble at that moment.
"Popcorn is actually better to give wildlife than bread, you know." He added, happy to share his farmlad wisdom. "It has more nutrients and protein, instead of just the fluff that bread is made of."