deercountry | House Log 003: Be Our Guest 2: Vampiric Boogaloo

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xerxes break: callie

House Log 003: Be Our Guest 2: Vampiric Boogaloo

Who: Closed to Pandora House and some wandering RWBYs
What: Two casts alike in dignity are having vampire drama now
When: Somewhere in the midst of all this
Where: Pandora House, which still needs a cooler name

Content Warnings: Probably nothing as we are here for shenanigans, but will tag in subject lines as necessary

Ozpin gets kicked out of his own house for his recent descent into vampirism and one Qrow Branwen has the brilliant idea to bring him to his good buddy Xerxes Break's house for safekeeping. In theory, this is a solid idea. Despite the first impression given off by White Alice's decidedly weird and sometimes violent snow goon sculptures littering the grounds, this house is safe and cozy, and because Break is a Victorian, being abruptly called upon to provide hospitality is something that is simply written into his personality. There are separate rooms available for all three of their guests, and plenty of food around for the taking at all times. The new arrivals are taken in with about the same level of fuss and disruption as there might be if somebody saw a cute critter out in the yard and everybody had to pause and go look at it because critters are neat.

However, this house also has three chaotic darkbloods in it who are all feeling aggressively friendly at the moment, another vileblood who is also named Oz, and sometimes Ozpin's ex's beloved nephew is just there with likewise zero warning for ghost-harassing reasons. So, you know, have fun with that.

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"'Vampire' is a term I am hearing quite a bit, lately," says Ozpin, his tone good-humored even as distance returns to his eyes. "I still consider it something of an exaggeration. I still regard myself as quite human, albeit with a few... inconvenient modifications made courtesy of the town."

He gestures as he talks, a pleasant sweep of the hand, posture relaxed. Eminently nonthreatening, he should think. Until it wears off is phrasing that concerns him deeply, for all that he's been claiming the same ultimate solution, and it is best to underplay the thing to whatever degree he'll be allowed.

"But I certainly wouldn't want to put you to any trouble, nor to stay any longer than is needed. I do imagine our difficulties will be resolved without too terrible a delay."

Break squints. He speaks fluent aristocrat, and he knows what this guy is doing. When there's an unpleasant elephant in the room, one falls back on being terribly polite about it, and what Break hears isn't easy reassurance so much as deliberate and intentional self-defense. Honestly, though, he can't actually blame him for that. If Qrow, reliably blunt, is using the word "vampire" here, he can guess what Ozpin's "inconvenient modification" is and his guess is that it's literal bloodthirst.

"I've no problem having you over. Mister Qrow and I have discovered these past months that in most things, our priorities are the same," he says, easily matching Ozpin's pleasant tone despite the fact that his expression remains openly calculating. "Since that's the case, his word is all I need. He would never bring anyone or anything that posed any real danger to my kids into my house."

The translation: Regardless of what he thinks of Ozpin and his vampire problem, he does trust Qrow. That's where his own loyalty lies in this moment.

"All the same, I should like to know more, once you're settled in," he adds. "If Trench can do such a thing to you, it can do it to anybody, right? I'd just as soon not be caught by surprise if I run across this sort of thing elsewhere, especially if it's one of those issues that's happening to certain blood types en masse."

If a need to suck blood out of people really is the problem, the fact that he would wave something like that off as an inconvenience is quite frankly something of a red flag, and Break doesn't know Ozpin enough to know if he's just like that or if whatever has done this to him also has him addled into thinking it's fine when it's not. The last time Break was in that sort of mental state, and without even having Trench as an excuse for it, he personally murdered one hundred and sixteen people and convinced himself it meant nothing because it was for a good cause.

Ozpin may not be dangerous now, but could that change? Depending on how he got this way in the first place, yes, probably.

Qrow has known Ozpin considerably longer, and he knows it is not that Oz truly believes it to be nothing; if there were money in Trench, he'd place it on the notion that Oz himself is disturbed by the nature of his situation, and is downplaying it out of ingrained habit to protect others from the discomfort of knowing. He was the man who held the truth of Remnant's situation close to his chest for centuries, after all. A year ago, the betrayal of that revelation had devastated him. A year ago, Qrow would not have brought Oz into this house and vouched for him. But a lot has happened since then. He and Oz have worked hard to rebuild the trust between them; difficult promises had been made and kept, even when Qrow might not have expected them to be. The thing about trust is that it doesn't simply exist in a vacuum. Something he's realized in all that time is that it's something you have to do.

Oz says he has it under control, and it is another watershed moment for Qrow, a fork in the road where there are only two paths: he can believe him, or hold suspicion. He chooses to believe him, because not to would mean holding onto that pain that he'd chosen to let go, when he told Ozpin last May that he forgave him. It's a choice made against his natural inclination to be paranoid, and it will hurt him if he is wrong. But Qrow is the sort of person who will take on the risk of that pain again and again for the sake of those he loves.

So it's a relief when Break agrees to letting Oz stay, and there's something of a warm ache in his chest at hearing his word is all I need. For all that Qrow's trust is hard-won, it is a rare gift to see it repaid so openly.

"...Thanks, Xerx."

Qrow is often the type that expresses affection with nicknames; in this moment, that feeling is at something of a peak, having his choice to come here validated like this.

"Maybe we can talk about it more over that tea?"

This too is borne out of knowing Ozpin for over half his own life. Oz always preferred to have difficult conversations over a warm drink like tea or cocoa. The latter had been his signature, back at Beacon.

Edited 2022-01-15 08:15 (UTC)

The calculating expression doesn't bother him any; if anything, it's a relief to have an idea of what is happening in the other man's head. His word is all I need quirks Ozpin's eyebrows up, eases fond amusement into his smile. He does not have to look at Qrow to feel the impact.

"I'll be happy to share what I know." It's not as though Willow had been keen to listen, and Ozpin knows well enough he won't settle this mess without talking his way out. He plans to gloss over the way he ate a Blood Zealot, just a tad. It's not as though he's hurt anyone unnecessarily, or without meaning to. The situation qualifies as worrying, not dire. "Particularly over tea with too many sugars."

The next thing Ozpin gets to notice is the way that cunning look shifts immediately to a tender expression of outright yearning when Qrow dredges his nickname up out of the past and offers it back to him like a gift. It's not a reaction to Qrow himself, so much as the unexpected comfort of having someone at hand who would think to use it -- someone who's earned the right to. It isn't something he'd allow from anyone he didn't consider family on some level, but he also doesn't tell people outright when they've made it there. So, to have Qrow decide on his own to use it and for Break himself to decide he wants him to is a big deal. It knocks the wind out of him in a "coming home" sort of way.

If nothing else, by staying here Ozpin gets tea and a show.

Tea with too many sugars helps him to snap his game face back on. With an easy smile, Break slides back to his feet, as though he didn't just find himself walking smack into the glass door of his own feelings again.

"One of my own people, I see. Then, I'll be back shortly."

Unless one of them calls him back, he'll slide on out. His omen elects to follow him, on the grounds that Break is usually in want of a good cuddle when he has a lot of feelings and there is no need to abandon this, his most important duty, to keep an eye on things when it's Qrow. He and Ozpin will have their chance to breathe without worry of being eavesdropped on.

There sure are a lot of feelings happening in this living room right now, huh. Ozpin will certainly have plenty of gossip up his sleeve for the next time he'd like to redirect the groupchat's attention away from himself.

Not that Qrow quite registers this, the same way he didn't recognize the Danger Will Robinson signs as he rapidly approached doki-tier feelings toward Clover. For the moment he just feels relieved and warm as Break validates his view of his home as a safe place and validates Qrow as someone trustworthy to him and vice versa as well.

He doesn't have much to say when Break departs to fetch the tea, though, rarely ever someone who feels the need to fill empty air with babbling. He's happy to just sit in companionable silence for that stretch of minutes, unless Ozpin should want to say anything to him while Break is otherwise occupied, anyway.

Ozpin has spent too many hours in warm silence with Qrow; he does not think to fill it, except for the beat in which he casts an appraising glance around the room and sits back as though satisfied.

"It's a good choice of safehouse," he murmurs. Qrow's small smile, the sweetly open look on his face, is as plain to him as text on a page. After those first tense moments out in the snow, this is a significant shift of tone. Some of the tension has dropped from his shoulders.

This seems to be good for Qrow. It's not really the house he approves of.

Break and Baltus are efficient creatures. Off in the kitchen, his omen leans on him until Break is past his initial surge of feelings over having been promoted to "Xerx" again, which takes only as long as it takes the kettle to boil thanks to this month's darkblood urge to be bothering another human being at all times. Then it's a simple matter of gathering up all the accoutrements, all of which are pretty much ready to go at all times because that's just what this household is like, and making his way back.

The omen reappears first, cheerfully carrying a very large potato Break has judged as having too many sprouts to be worth eating; he plonks himself down on a pillow by the fireplace to chew it into little bits. Break follows with a pile of no less than three cookie tins stacked on his head, and a neatly arranged tea tray with his largest pot, three mugs, and a full sugar bowl in his hands. The state of the tray is telling. For one thing, the large stoneware mugs he's brought along are the appropriate colors -- red, purple, and green, respectively. He doesn't know yet the full significance of colors on Remnant, but he has figured out they are weirdly aggressive about it for some reason, which is fair given his own love of purple anything.

For another, that entire sugar bowl is honestly just for Ozpin. Not knowing how much is too much, he's taken the liberty of sweetening his and Qrow's cups already, so as to avoid strain on the contents of the poor sugar bowl. Qrow has never explicitly told him how much sugar he likes, but Break has watched him often enough to have logged this tidbit of information away.

"Here we are." With a graceful squat, he slides the tea tray onto the low table in front of the couch, and sweeps the cookie tins from his head in one smooth motion. Those will go to Qrow while Break pours the tea. "If one is going to have civilized conversation there are certain things that ought to be done properly, that's what I think."

Before they have much further time to reflect on Qrow's obvious attachment to a certain someone in this house, Break and his omen have returned and serve as an excellent distraction. Or perhaps, Qrow should say, the cookie tins on his head an an excellent distraction. Even for someone whose very existence doesn't shift probability negatively for those around him, those tins are in a highly precarious position, one slight breeze from an entire cookietastrophe. It would not be inaccurate to say that Qrow holds his breath the entire space of Break's few strides to the couches, though he tries to play off the sigh of relief when everything is set down intact as a cough. Reflex moreso than conscious effort at concealment, considering Break knows that most closely guarded secret now.

Once he's gotten over his own little personal crisis, though, the state of the tray is taken in -- that one of the mugs happens to be green does not escape his notice. He'd only mentioned it in passing once, that Oz's color was green, and he's a little touched that not only did Break remember, but he brought out color-coordinated mugs as something of a welcoming gesture. There's that warm feeling again, and it hits him hard enough that he barely even notices the tea is already perfectly to his taste.

"You can never go wrong with tea and cookies."

It's a strange sort of deja vu, in a way; being sat down with cookies and a warm drink in a safe place when there was something of importance to discuss. Once again, he is quietly glad for the choice he made in bringing Oz here, and he settles in, waiting for Oz to start things off. Qrow himself does not know the details, after all, not beyond the basic concept of "vampire" and drinking blood.

An impressive display at hosting indeed. He does not telegraph the slight tension as he waits for the cookies to fall; he can sense it in Qrow out the corner of his eye, and it does not help to stoke that anxiety. When the cookies don't fall, Ozpin exhales a breath that is nearly a laugh and leans happily in over his knees.

"I couldn't agree more."

He waits for Qrow to pass him a cookie, and lets that pause be his cover as he thinks on how to begin. He nods his thanks to Break, and settles in.

"The trouble is ultimately, I hope, something of a misunderstanding. Our dear friend Willow, and the companions from her home world, are used to a particular threat: a creature without human conscience, which kills to sustain itself on blood."

He spreads his hands here, as though placating.

"Happily, the similarities of this situation are entirely superficial. I suspect I have run up against an... unusual confluence of blood type and seasonal changes. In Deerington, I might have called it a curse, and expected the effects to pass within the span of a month. Here, I'm afraid the situation seems to persist at a lower level and for a longer time."

He does not look to Qrow as he says this. He knows the tension of betrayal will hurt to see, and it is better to keep his tone smooth and warm.

"This is all rather beyond my expertise, but the appearance of similarity bothered Willow terribly, all the same. We are spending some time apart to let heated emotions settle somewhat."

Break does know about Qrow's semblance and it's a mark of confidence not just in him, but in himself too, that for the most part he is going about his business as usual. After all, Qrow successfully hid the matter from him for months, and Break likely still wouldn't have caught on yet if unrelated Pthumerian interference hadn't given him a clue smack to the face. Break has taken this to mean that between the two of them they are most excellent at dealing with the consequences of that semblance, and his part to play is not to attempt to accident-proof himself or his house. Rather, it's to keep his own irritatingly cunning eye on Qrow's understandable penchant for seeing disaster in everything, as it seems to him like managing Qrow is going to be much more necessary than joining him in worrying about useless things like broken cookies that Break would cheerfully eat anyway.

This, he is still sorting out. After all, it's only been a couple of weeks. In this case, reading the way both of them breathe out at the safe delivery of the cookie tins, Break makes a mental note that this is a tell to pay attention to. He decides not to acknowledge it otherwise, outside of electing to curl up in his armchair like a gremlin to project an air of ease instead of bothering with a truly polite formal perch.

Qrow's semblance is an every day concern. That he has turned up on Break's doorstep with a "vampire" in tow is the much more immediate problem.

"The monsters from this lady's home must be terrible indeed, for her to react so to someone so capable of holding polite conversation," he observes when Ozpin is through. "The sort that catch prey by way of skilled deception, I imagine. Even so, it sounds as though her overabundance of caution has wrapped around into making things much more difficult. Mm, I'm guessing she is very young?"

He would certainly have a strong reaction if he thought for an instant a Contractor was roaming around in Trench. And the absolute last thing he would do in that circumstance is let that person out of his sight. This Willow person is definitely still a rookie if she's letting this guy run around doing heaven knows what. Break, meanwhile, decides he is not going to verbalize this.

"More importantly, that you say it's something persistent strikes me as the far greater concern here, right? I'm no Deerington veteran, but so far, everything I've observed here that doesn't fade away within the month seems as though it's a stepping stone into something much worse."

Qrow does not generally expect others to notice when he gets like this, but nonetheless, it is likely good for Qrow's peace of mind that his relief goes unremarked upon. It's something of a short-lived moment to relax, though, given the topic of conversation shifts back to difficult matters.

It strikes him that he had not thought too deeply on the matter of Ozpin's issue lingering past the initial month mark. Now that it's been pointed out, he cannot push it from his mind again, but even as Break's implication is clear...some part of him still wants to deny it. Perhaps, somewhat selfishly, because if it is indeed Corruption -- ah, their habits of giving each other space when dealing with painful things may no longer be tenable in the long term, but also... he doesn't want to admit that Willow had a point about having let things slide too long, that he should've checked in with Oz sooner.

"Could be a blood power thing, too," he offers, though he winces at the realization that such a state of affairs may possibly be worse. He and Break both know what it is to have a dangerous power not fully within one's own control, after all.

"I'm coming to suspect it's a combination of all these factors," he says, a little ruefully. "Willow is quite young, but she tends to be one of the more insightful among our number."

He leaves it unspoken that tends to be is not in play right now.

"I'm certain we'll smooth things over once the initial surprise has passed. I do not relish the thought of facing these issues indefinitely, but I was bothered by no such compulsion in the first few months of my arrival. I still hold some hope that it's a quirk of the season— we are nearly to the end of 'Bone Season,' as it were."

Indeed, Break makes a terrible face at the notion of blood powers making one want, or need, to drink actual blood belonging to other people. Fantastic. If that's true, with his luck, sooner or later his household will accidentally drop itself into its own pocket dimension and nobody will ever know what's going on in Trench because they won't be able to escape their own whimsical illusions, or something.

Freaking darkblood.

"Well. I suppose in a world where blood is everything, it's no surprise that people may end up struck by such an urge. But if that's so, you can't possibly be the first to suffer it."

Meaning there is probably already information available about it somewhere, but Break stops short of saying there is probably already a solution. It's not as though the locals have managed to sort out the blood pollution and corruption issues at the root.

"I wouldn't be surprised to learn of such a history," he says, politely noncommittal. "I may yet see what a bit of digging in the Archives will turn up. In the meantime, the issue is manageable."

He flicks a glance to Qrow, and his smile pulls tight and brittle.

"Should that change, there are those who would not allow the situation to erupt too far out of hand."

After that first bloody October, watching Qrow's body flake away at his own sister's hands, he perhaps even believes it.

Break, being both practical to the point of paranoia and the meddlesome sort to boot, makes a mental note to come up with a list later of various vampiric eventualities he might need to be ready for on the sidelines should "not allowing the situation to erupt too far out of hand" become more immediately relevant than offering up a guest room. This list will range from extremes like "provide backup to vampire hunters should this guy start murdering civilians willy-nilly" down to "be diplomatic at vampire hunters so Qrow doesn't kill them if this guy isn't actually murdering civilians willy-nilly" and even "get a hold of some red meat to cook with if Qrow starts looking weirdly pale". Let's be real, he and Qrow are alike in many ways, and there are a couple people Break would absolutely allow to chew on him a little if it kept things under control. Blood grows back, it's fine.

"I imagine doing such research now, while it is manageable, is much more prudent than waiting to see if it simply clears up at the end of the season," he drawls, perhaps just the eensiest bit judgmentally. And hypocritically, given his persistent lockjoint problem he still insists he doesn't need a blood minister for. Oops. "In any case, having you here for the moment isn't a worrisome thing. My kids are all creepy. I saw one of them blow up a demon for speaking out of turn, once."

Perhaps now is the time to figure out how to translate Pandora's sealing spell to blood magic...? He'll set Dipper Pines on the matter later. Honestly, that little dweeb would probably have written instructions in his hands come morning if Break put the problem into his head tonight --

Blech, research. Technically, Willow's got that angle covered, but he's currently still salty at Willow so he doesn't bring her up. Honestly, he doesn't have very much to say here at all, given that his only objective was to bring Oz here and get Break's permission to let him stay for a bit until things got sorted out, and there's little need for him to do more at this point than munch on these delightful cookies and sip at his tea. Even so, that old urge he used to have to defend Ozpin's actions still lingers in some traces, despite the aggressive reality check he'd gotten in Remnant and through the process of working through their issues in Deerington. Somewhat without even really noticing he's doing it, he speaks up again--

"It's still a little weird to be able to research these things at all. Back in Deerington, they'd just kind of happen and there was nothing you could do about it. There was this one time Oz randomly grew antlers."

Little does Qrow know how quickly he is going to regret bringing this up.

Ozpin tries very politely to pretend that didn't sound like both threat and warning. He smiles a bit tenuously.

More tenuously still when Qrow makes mention of that incident.

"I'd not realized Oscar had spread that story around." There's a note of suspicion to it, half a question. It had been an uncomfortable day in more than one sense, and the pair of them had weathered it together— well, until Stanford's arrival, and then the whole thing had gone a bit differently out of hand. He skirts hurriedly away from the memory. "That, I am glad to say, lasted only one day, though the changes were more... acute. Qrow is correct that there was often little rhyme or reason to the presentation of such curses."

It's more a legitimate warning than a threat, but Ozpin is correct in thinking the comment does have shades of both. For the most part, it's simply a note that even if Qrow is wrong about the severity of the situation, the other reason Break is confident here is that everyone in his household can either defend themselves or quickly reach someone who can. If Ozpin and whatever blood cravings he's suffering from should end up crossing White Alice in particular, Alice is not the one Break would worry about, and given how exactly Break lost his eye he is actually being polite in letting this guy know that danger exists at all.

On the other hand he sees no reason whatsoever to specify which kid in particular is the especially dangerous one. Let him assume it's all of them. Ozpin said he was willing to talk about the situation, but so far he has given only a couple of concrete details that he's immediately brushed away in a big pile of fluff about how it's surely a misunderstanding and surely something that will resolve on its own and definitely definitely nothing to be concerned about, hoho, just a silly blip in their silly lives in this silly place with its silly curses. Break knows a wall when he hits one, and truth be told he can't be bothered to try and get past it today, so. Let Ozpin wonder which of Break's brats is the especially explosive one. That will be best for everyone.

"Well. Having only been here a few months myself and missed Deerington altogether, I'm certainly no expert in the matter," he says, dropping the subject. "Perhaps more importantly, is it going to kill you if I make garlic bread to go with dinner?"

".....Well--"

There is no good way to end that sentence, is there. Qrow's expression does a rather comical twist as though searching for a way to not admit he'd happened to fly by Oz's window that evening and got perhaps An Eyeful more than he bargained for when he became "Ozpin's eyes" twenty years ago. Ahem.

--Yeah, he gives up.

"Heeee, uh. Didn't."

Look, we don't have time to unpack all that, let's just throw out the whole suitcase! And talk about baked goods instead.

"...But man, I hope not. Garlic bread's too delicious to become vampire-allergic to."

Ozpin blinks, briefly owlish— then startled, offended— then trying to rein it in and save face in present company. They will certainly discuss whatever ill-advised spying Qrow has been doing. At length, and later.

"... No, thankfully, I am not that sort of vampire." He says the word with deep and profound reluctance. "And I should hate to impact your plans. Again, I do thank you for the hospitality."

It is going to be a long day.

For a brief moment, Break makes the vicious, gleeful face seen on every kid who has ever watched another kid get in trouble instead of them.

"But of course, but of course."

Unable to completely contain his mirth, Break is obliged to translate it into cheerful hand-flapping. He would have absolutely believed Oscar had run his mouth as that child is a shiny, earnest little troublemaker, but Qrow accidentally tattling on himself just too good. Baltus may or may not be snickering over by the fireplace.

"Then, I'd best get back to the dinner preparations. Mister Qrow, you should join me in there when you have a moment. Something interesting has turned up that I wanted to show you."

Mistakes have been made here on this day.

Certain doom by way of embarrassment is certainly waiting for him down the line, but Qrow is grateful for the reprieve that arrives in the form of something interesting coming up. Qrow raises an eyebrow curiously.

"Something interesting, huh?"

The fascinating thing about this household is that such a descriptor can encompass literally anything he could possibly imagine. Break has had his eyeball ripped out, traveled through time and space, had a monster built for him for the express purpose of killing other monsters at the cost of his life force, and needed to save the world from being rewritten by a man who was an entire hivemind of souls. Similarly, the house itself runs the gamut of containing a ghost in the form of a disembodied hand to a particularly disgruntled goose to an entire horde of batcats.

All of this to say, Qrow is rapidly losing any kind of perspective as to what constitutes 'interesting' anymore.

"Wouldn't wanna keep it waiting, then. Lead the way."

"Mm. Baltus, keep our guest company, would you? Let me know if he needs anything."

Certain doom by way of embarrassment may well hit him sooner than he thinks, depending just how much emotion of any sort that Qrow is prepared to handle when they get to the wonderful cherry Break is about to hurl like a grenade at the wild disaster of a sundae this day has been.

With his omen left to babysit -- it's a genuine act to tend to Ozpin's comfort; the fact that Baltus's presence means this guy will be watched in Break's absence is a secondary perk -- Break leaves the tea tray and the cookie tins behind for Oz to root around in as he pleases and starts off down the hall. He brings his own mug of tea with him, and the good long sip he takes from it covers his silence until they're out of earshot. When he does speak, his voice is low, though his tone is more amused than anything else.

"So that's your Ozpin, hm? Rather a tight-lipped sort, isn't he? All those words and all I really heard were variations on how no one need worry about it."

House Log 003: Be Our Guest 2: Vampiric Boogaloo

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