003: Seems to me quite clear, now — now that you are here — how easily I could begin again

[payingfordeliverance]

Who: Break + various
What: Catchall log; closed starters, event overflows, etc. No open prompts.
When: January through February, perhaps into March
Where: Various

Content Warnings: Use of the heartstrings prompt from the January TDM (injury, body horror, burning, melting), and one bond pact (blood ceremony, bodily ceremony, telepathic/empathetic connections). One Mother's Mercy thread (intense guilt and shame, talk of grieving your own death, forced confession), and one using the really evil magic chocolate where you cough up an organ. Threads will be marked accordingly and further warnings added here as they come up.

Comments

January Event Overflow

[payingfordeliverance]

Continued from here!

For Black Alice

[payingfordeliverance]

The wise thing to do here would be to run like hell from the scary lady, who now, on top of everything else, can apparently make wind happen. Kevin is not wise -- or, to put it more kindly, in his experience running only means you get chased, and things don't end until you end them yourself. To that end, he shifts into a defensive stance that makes him look older than he is, and his hand goes to the hilt of his sword.

Even as he does so, Baltus lets out a single sharp bark.

Enough, the omen snaps as he does so, talking directly to Alice and leaving Kevin out of it, on the grounds that the last thing the boy needs this second is a voice in his head. The Abyss connects all different timelines. You know that perfectly well.

Baltus knows it because Break does. The Kevin here now is from the timeline he's familiar with, or something like it, given Trench's nonsense. This version of Alice must simply be from a different one, that's all, and she's the only one here that will mean something to.

[velvet_teen]

Uuuughughugh, the dog is right. Alice switches from glaring at this mouthy interloper to glaring at the fourfooted backup. She does not care if anyone thinks she is bonkers for talking to an animal, or for that matter for anything.

"I know, but he's wrong about my family! Make him stop or I'll... duel him! Duels are true in every reality!"

Or at least the concept of agreeing to a show of skill and force with set parameters so it doesn't get out of hand is a thing that tends to remain constant, but Alice is in no mood to be precise with her words.

For Ange

[heart_beatings]

Even as she invites him to continue, the moment has passed. Kevin's rants depend on inertia. Having interrupted himself, he subsides back to grumbling, eyes downcast.

"It's less of a problem now that I can beat everyone up," he says flatly. After a moment's pause, he adds, "...at once."

An explanation of just how Xerxes Break got to be so vicious in a group fight, huh.

"Even so...these things linger. And, some people hate you even more if they can't push you around."

[entreats]

What an emotional flow, Ange thinks. It's like watching the tides. One moments it's suddenly there in all its intensity, and then it all recedes like this, leaving only a shadow of its former self.

"What annoying and cruel people, to assume all of these things about you, without even bothering to get to know the real you." But they have discussed this. They know that it's just in people's nature, that it's something that can't be stopped.

Some people just suck.

So Ange shakes her head. "After all, to me, you seem like.."

It's there where her voice trails off, realising that this is a moment that Break might just remember later, once he is himself once more. It makes her a little more cautious, trying to balance being nice to a seemingly unfortunate 'kid' like Kevin with not seeming totally embarrassing later.

".. like a fine person to know. I don't dislike our meeting, even though it happened totally by chance."

For Qrow

[heart_beatings]

[A placeholder for later because then it is neat and tidy which I like]

For Ange Again

[payingfordeliverance]

If Break were an edgier edgelord than he is, he might make some comment about how this was a terrible decision, really, or otherwise counsel her to be wary of him all the same. After all, he's dangerous, there's a great deal of nastiness in his past that hasn't come to light yet, and who knows what sort of wicked things this place may yet lead him to do? He doesn't bother. Those things are true in some degree or other for literally everyone here, and Ange is certainly clever enough to understand that. More importantly, the person Break chooses to be when left to his own devices is trustworthy, these days. He's never going to be a completely honest man, but there's no longer any need for him to prioritize anything else over the welfare of the kids he's decided are his own.

It is going to really throw him for a loop when he realizes he's going to have to prioritize himself for once, here in Trench. For real this time, not in all his stupid and petty little cake-thieving ways. Probably it will take a few tries before he starts to figure this out.

"Coming from Miss Ange, something like that is a high compliment, right?" His being reliable, or trustworthy -- either of them could apply with this girl, from what Break has been able to gather so far. "Then, I shall endeavor to remain worthy of such praise."

Ange has seen more of him now than he has of her, but he knows just enough to guess that she isn't the sort of person who opens her heart to someone easily.

For Yuri

[payingfordeliverance]

"Mm. I'm pleased too, but -- it's creepy to think of it too long, right? To know I've done such a thing as keep myself from seeing without even realizing it. That's why --"

Break gestures at the garden in general.

"A friend pointed out that if I can do things like that unawares, it's in everyone's best interests that I learn to control it before something decidedly unamazing happens."

That's his true aim here, underneath all the whimsy. Just control. Given the sorts of things he once got up to at home, the destructive capacity of these powers if he in particular is wielding them is something Break finds terrifying. So, training. A guy who has no idea how to use a weapon is much more dangerous than one who does, not because he's better, but because the capacity for accidents is so much greater.

Still, he doesn't begrudge other darkbloods real use of their powers. There are many people here for whom magic is second nature. To that end, given the extremely specific question Yuri had asked before, Break gives him a thoughtful look.

"If you're wanting to sort out how to use this stuff in battle, I imagine Miss Lysithea will be a much more helpful resource than I," he says. "She is a darkblood too, and -- my understanding is that in her own world, she was lauded for her abilities in battle magic. Given her personality, I'm certain that...she is already training with her new powers, and would much more articulate about theories and things."

For White Alice

[payingfordeliverance]

"Hoh? And here I thought there was nothing you couldn't do if it suited you." To be fair, in the Abyss this was arguably more true than it wasn't, and to Break's perspective Alice's magic here comes to her so naturally he's mostly just been sure it hasn't occurred to her to have limits. "Mm, but -- I suppose magic's got to have rules of some sort. If you haven't any, there's no way to find loopholes."

Having been incredibly burned by one such loophole, much of Break's paranoia about his much more unfettered ability to warp reality stems directly from that -- the notion that he'll believe this or that will happen, only to be blindsided by some catch he didn't anticipate that ruins everything. This is arguably even more unfortunate for those around him than it would be if he were simply being reckless with those powers. It means that his capacity for being crafty and cunning and getting away with overpowered nonsense is even greater.

The flickers of light catch his attention periodically in the relative darkness of the dance floor. Glancing down at them causes him to miss a few steps and need to recover, but hey, at least he still isn't stepping on her.

For Lucius

[payingfordeliverance]

[Continued from here!]

"I didn't know any of them myself," Break agrees. "I suppose that's the trouble with looking into things that come from other worlds entirely. Without having lived in such places, you simply can't appreciate all the secrets and jokes."

He's having that problem with the movies, too. For the most part he keeps up, but there's pretty much always something he just doesn't understand. Why are so many stories set in New York City, for example? Break asked Dipper Pines this once, as Dipper has a New York City in his own world, but all he received in reply was a shrug and "west coast best coast", whatever that means.

"I did enjoy the story all the same," he adds. "Knights and wizards and so on. I'll find more of such things, if I can."

In particular he took a vicious enjoyment of the enormous mess between Lancelot and Guinevere and Elaine in much the same way one enjoys gossiping about naughty aristocrat drama. Break has zero intention of spoiling this. He has a hunch that Lucius's reaction to it might end up being hilarious, if he gets that far.

The Break-and-Qrow Show

[payingfordeliverance]

this episode will be very dramatic

End of January: Once Upon A Dream

[payingfordeliverance]

[Qrow has been around long enough at this point -- in Break's space enough -- that the fact that he is suffering from a bout of darkblood extroversion this month is extremely noticeable. It's not as though Break doesn't chatter easily at Qrow when they're together, and certainly he's seen glimmers of Break's playful side plenty of times, too. Just...Qrow has also seen him skulking around in a blanketfort and claiming the day won't start, and seen him overwhelmed from time to time by the bits of his past that Trench likes to fling in his face. Been the one to walk Break through such things, even. It's a far cry from how easily he rolls with it when Qrow turns up with Ozpin in tow and a few of the other Clockhouse residents follow suit, nattering away about whatever crosses his mind at whoever happens to turn up, and that first night he doesn't consciously stay up to keep people company so much as he outright forgets to go to bed.

Turns out when you remove that whole thing where even people he likes suck the energy out of him, what's left is just that Xerxes Break, deep down, really likes people.

He'd never have been able to handle the atmosphere in the Snake Den for very long without this problem, and even so, he sneaks away for privacy now and again all the same. The catch is that he isn't sneaking out for fresh air as he usually would during a party; rather, he's taking advantage of the alone time to play with his blood magic, emboldened by the protective enchantment over the place that prevents anyone's powers from hurting anybody else. Buuuuuuut then he gets lonely before he's finished messing around, and so it is that good ol' Baltus slips out of the private "room" Break has ensconced himself in and goes hunting amidst the crowd for one of Break's favorites to come and keep him company.

It is Qrow that he finds! Wonderful.

Given that Qrow is not a bird at the moment, Baltus cannot pick him up and walk off with him, alas. He does gently pull at the hem of the man's shirt, ears up and tail high and swishing, the omen's excitement obvious as he encourages Qrow to follow him. Baltus refuses to explain himself on the grounds that it would "spoil the surprise", which is fair, honestly, when he slips back into the room with Qrow in tow and it turns out Break is in the midst of building a fucking tiny pocket dimension in it in the form of a certain familiar ballroom from a movie Qrow did not particularly like. The man himself is squatting down in the middle of the floor, his explosively purple coat a stark contrast to the incessant black he's been wearing since he arrived. He appears to be trying to make a pretty design in the wood of the floor, given the way color ripples across it before he gives up and decides he likes the mirror better.

Baltus boofs to get his attention, and when the snowy white head lifts, Break looks decidedly more fresh in the face than he should for a weary, grieving old man who turned forty fairly recently.]

-- Qrow! Excellent. Come look, come look, I've been working on this.

[He all but bounces to his feet, gesturing wildly at his illusionary ballroom. It's very cute that he thinks he's not responsible for the birdie door.]

Early February: This could be the end of everything, so why don't we go somewhere only we know?

[payingfordeliverance]

[Things ought to improve after Break reaches out to apologize for his poor decisions, and Qrow accepts it and indicates that he would like to move on from the whole thing.

They do not improve.

On Break's side of things, the issue is that no matter how he tries to talk himself out of it, he simply can't shake the feeling that the relationship they had is something he's broken, and that even if they work to return to it, there will be a crack beneath the surface now that could shatter the whole thing for good at any time. Qrow says it's nothing, says it's fine. But the distance behind his smile at the time was so familiar, a tactic he himself has used, that Break is certain that even if he forgives, he isn't going to forget. If that's so, the damage is done, and Break has no idea how to fix it. As much as he would like to try, he is absolutely certain that he will only make it worse.

After all, what's already happened is, without a doubt, entirely his fault.

His sight is gone before he gets home that night, and he manages to carry on for a day or so before the old familiar aches and pains settle back into him again. He spends the next few days pining horribly for his friend -- because Qrow is his friend, something that matters exponentially more to him than the crush that has risen up out of that, and the depth of mourning he's already feeling at even the idea of losing him goes far beyond simple romantic rejection. Because of that, he does not notice when his longing shifts into something a little more intense than it ought to be. He already feels like garbage, so it doesn't seem worth worrying about when his pain begins to leave him feeling weak and feverish, and being blind, he certainly doesn't spot the red string that has anchored itself in his chest. He's on the couch in the parlor, busy composing the thousandth message that he isn't going to send, when Baltus senses something truly wrong and comes in from his patrol to check on him.

They deem the string too dangerous to try and cut, given that Break is already hurting so much. Especially when they don't even know what it's attached to. His first thought, then, is to follow it, but he barely makes it a few steps before he collapses. The curse of the string already has its claws deep enough in him that he feels like his bones can't actually hold him up. He keeps struggling to get back up again, because he's Xerxes Break and he can't help it, even as he finds that his limbs simply don't want to respond to his commands. And as he lays there trying he wishes and wishes and wishes, pathetically, that the one person who has always seemed to be around to rescue him from everything Trench is would show up and do it again.]

a weekish later: heartstrings part two electric boogaloo

[bolstafir]

[True to his word, Qrow does take time to think about things. What he'd want if things did go further, what he's afraid of, what he'd want to change and what he wouldn't. Whether he's ready to open himself up to that kind of risk again.

It's a lot more self-reflection than Qrow generally cares for, and as usual, uncovering those cobwebs tends to come with a few unpleasant surprises. Like the realization that there's a lot he left out when he was explaining himself before, not least because he was having a really hard time, you know, talking in the first place. He hasn't even told Break the circumstances behind Clover's death, has he? Much less any of the context that led up to that situation.

Break knows him as someone who has lost a lot, and suffered a lot, and fought in an unwinnable apocalypse war with a bunch of kids and scraped his ass off the pavement when the alcoholism got in the way too much, but he doesn't know so much about the side of him that only knows how to view trust as a zero-sum game, all or nothing. He doesn't know as much about the side of him that's waiting for the other shoe to drop every time he lets someone in close, who has never had a meaningful relationship of any kind (save, perhaps, his nieces) that hasn't left scars.

Grief is a beast they can share, that they both understand, but grief and betrayal are entirely different animals. After everything that happened with Clover, Break at least deserves to know the baggage that Qrow has to bring to the table -- especially now that he knows his bullshit can cause Break the kind of pain that makes his powers strike him blind.

...It's the kind of conversation he typically avoids like the plague. The idea of exposing those parts of himself he doesn't much care for is terrifying, honestly, and he may or may not have made some drafts on his Omni that will never see the light of day because he was too embarrassed to practice in front of a mirror like a fucking teenager. Ultimately, he's walking through Willful Machine when he decides that before he says anything at all, he'll start with something that expresses his feelings better than he knows how to in words, and he picks up a red bracelet that feels right.

But it would seem Doorway isn't satisfied with the pace at which he is taking all this, and he is busily writing yet another draft of his "hey I'm a little fucked up" speech when he feels that tell-tale pain in his chest again, and he is ah, definitely not making it to the lamp in the foyer this time. He gives himself a solid five minutes to yell (*groan) every swear word he knows, before he deletes that draft to prevent any Unfortunate misfires and pulls up Break's contact in his Omni.]

hey
can you come by my place, i wanna show you something

For White Alice: Early February Heartstrings. CW: burning and melting body horror

[payingfordeliverance]

It is just one thing after another in this stupid, stupid place. Just days after things seem resolved at last with Qrow -- and it took one of them melting, apparently Break's problem at the time is that he was melting, and the other one being on fire to make that happen -- a nice, lazy reading session on the couch in the parlor is interrupted by a surge of pain in his chest, strong enough to set him coughing. It's not unlike the heart palpitations he used to have at home, and for a moment the old panic rises up on instinct alone. But the fluttering resolves in another string, barely visible except for the way it reflects the light, emerging somehow from his chest and making its way out of the room.

Ah. So that's why he's felt the need to kick all the blankets off, and is still feeling decidedly feverish.

If it's this nonsense again and he's still feeling more or less sturdy, it must mean the person on the other side of the string is the one melting, and Break had such a terrible time with that himself that he's on his feet and moving as soon as he realizes it. He has no idea who he's tied to this time and doesn't bother to think about it very hard. In this place, it is what it is. But the idea of leaving anyone in that state too long, weak and scared and struggling to breathe, is genuinely upsetting. It isn't something he'd force his worst enemy to tolerate. Just killing them would be much tidier.

His alarm only increases when the string leads him through the twisting hallways of the house and straight to the pale Alice's bedroom door. He calls out to her before he reaches it, knocking the knock they picked up from a movie they liked. Baltus, trotting along after him as always, takes the liberty of turning himself to shadow and wafting in beneath the door. When his omen barks sharply, Break doesn't bother to wait for her to answer, and barges on in.

[wishforaneye]

It was strange and alarming, but something felt so incredibly distant as well. What was it? Something- it had drawn her away from bed, from the window, but within a few steps Alice had fallen to the floor with Dinah the size of a housecat immediately moving to her side, growing larger only when she hadn't gotten up.

Colors were bleeding out over white clothing, over pale skin. That Darkblood of hers glittering, but there ere also blues, pinks, and purples dripping along her skin from places it had cracked.

Oh. That wasn't right.

Dinah was the one to respond to the sharp bark, making way for when the door opened and didn't get in Break's way even as her size grew in response to distress more felt that openly showing.

Alice sitting in the middle of what looked like a pool of fabric and bleeding colors, slowly growing.

For Sayo: Mid-February

[payingfordeliverance]

By the time the month is halfway over Break has melted once, caught on fire twice, and adjusted his schedule to accommodate periodic check-ins at Qrow's house on account of one of their number has been threatened with murder by a raving red madman who has, in fact, already done that in the past. These are the stresses he blames his slowly increasing restlessness and random pains on, neither of which are abnormal for him and thus definitely aren't the result of some sort of Trenchian hex settling in on him. That he's wandering the docks a little more than normal during his "grocery shopping" excursions in the hopes of getting to pick a fight with some petty thieves is also not strange for him when he's in this state, honestly. Break's not into torture, but he does always feel better when he gets to beat up assholes who deserve it, and sparring with people you like and don't actually want to leave battered and unhappy just isn't the same.

Unfortunately, most of the shady characters who hang out around here have long since learned that Xerxes Break is someone who isn't worth the effort of pickpocketing. Dang.

He takes a few streets he doesn't usually bother with, in the hopes of maybe stumbling onto territory he hasn't established himself in yet. Baltus only lets him get away with this a couple of times before he starts snorting at his person to get home and have done with it; at this rate he'll run out of time to leave cinnamon rolls rising overnight. Break huffs and aims himself in an out-of-the-docks direction, meanders out onto the beach so he can cross the sands to the lamp at the Boardwalk without having to deal with crowds and maybe have a run if no one is looking, or maybe even if someone is --

-- he does spot someone, actually.

"Miss Shannon?" She is wearing her hair differently, but having seen her in passing once or twice around the house, he's certain it's her. There is a pause, in which Break and his omen tilt their heads in confused unison, which is very cute. "Are you lost...?"

Break is just suspicious enough of this girl to think that perhaps she is not, and is indeed out on the beach all alone on purpose. But she seems to want to be seen as something mild and giggly, and there's no reason as of yet not to play along with that and see what happens.

[forwantofahorse]

The image is even more incongruous with how Shannon presented herself at the party upon closer inspection: she's wearing baggy clothes—a red hoodie over a black turtleneck, cargo pants, and boots—she lacks her usual makeup, and her tied-back hair is sopping wet thanks to her "kick training." (Her legs were the one area of her body where her muscles were comparable to somebody who wasn't riddled with a number of physiological deficiencies, so she figured she might as well work on her "strengths" rather than fail to flail her way around her weaknesses.)

And, most ridiculously, she was in the middle of practicing her strikes for Cobra Kai.

She stands there, totally frozen, for a few moments.

"Ah, Break-san!"

Shannon breaks out into a wide smile, turning around to pick up her canvas bag (and to desperately insert her pads where he can't see before he realizes what's wrong with the silhouette she was cutting). "I was here to pick up some groceries, but the weather was so nice I thought I might take a stroll on the beach." She laughs, sounding awkward. "...and then I tripped and fell right into the surface. I'm really lucky that I wasn't hurt more badly. At least someone was kind enough to lend me these clothes..."

For Lucius: Late February | CW: emetophobia, coughing up organs, panic attacks

[payingfordeliverance]

Break damn well knows better than to make deals with weird entities who are purporting to offer him nice things. He has done it before and he's seen what happens when others do it and he knows. And yet. And yet, even without the preternatural compulsion inherent in being discovered by the Chocolatier, over the course of February he does it more than once. The familiarity of this danger in particular draws him in, and the recklessness in what he's doing eases some of the horrible feelings starting to gnaw away at the edges of his mind.

Things are going well, is the thing. Someone he's come to treasure in this place wants him, even if he isn't ready to reach for him yet. The actions he's been taking here are validated and valued by the person whose wish directed his life for fifteen years. He certainly isn't ready to be happy but he has days when he's outright content despite Trench's faults and there are people he can come to love in time and there are whispers of maybe it isn't so bad and I could stay and now if only I could have -- and every time thoughts like these cross his mind he's hit by a surge of pain that stops him in his tracks.

The repeated risk of interacting with that thing and then actually eating the dubious treats it gives, resulting over and over in little more than silly shenanigans like singing and cat ears, gives Break a sense of control. He hears rumors of others suffering horrible things indeed and it just makes him feel like he's getting away with something, as he's always done.

His behavior grows more erratic as the month goes on and Break refuses to explain a single bit of it to anyone who notices as he swings from depressed to energetic to outright careless, suffering periodic bouts of blindness here and there. And finally, a few weeks in, Break comes home practically vibrating with stress, spends an evening whacking at things at top speed out in his little practice yard out in the back, and once he's managed to restore his sight yet again, he pops the last of his chocolate stash in the hopes that something entertaining will happen and he won't have to think too hard about the reasons he may temporarily be inheriting an entire bakery and how useless he feels for finding himself unable to do more to protect Lysithea.

He is successful, but in perhaps the worst way possible.

The reaction starts about ten minutes later when the wave of nausea hits him, an unpleasant pressure in his stomach and a surge of no at the back of his throat. At first he thinks he's simply poisoned himself, and he moves immediately to the bathroom closest to his own bedroom to wait it out. In these first moments, he even has the presence of mind to halt at the door and debate whether or not to lock it, as he would have at home during the long nights he had to spend recovering from bringing up blood thanks to the Mad Hatter. Not here, he decides. He certainly doesn't want to be disturbed while he's ill here either, but he doesn't trust Trench at all, and if he winds up needing legitimate help the few seconds it will take Baltus to unlock the door could be costly. No sooner has he come to this conclusion than he coughs, and the familiar, metallic taste of blood seeps into his mouth. That's where he starts to grow properly alarmed -- this hasn't happened since he arrived -- and then his gut seizes inside him and he is obliged to move very swiftly to the toilet.

When he is done dislodging the horrible thing that rises up in his throat, Break discovers that he has thrown up what looks to be a goddamned kidney.

Over the blood roaring in his ears, he dimly hears Baltus, left behind in his rush to the bathroom, scrabbling across the hardwood outside and crashing outright into the door before he turns himself to smoke and wafts in beneath it to check on him. He doesn't pay his omen much notice. He is already on the cold floor, blood still oozing from his mouth, trying to breathe through the immediate panic attack. His heart is rampaging around in his chest as though it wants to be the thing he coughs up next.

[lludw]

The sound of retching, by itself, doesn't particularly alarm Lucius. He's eaten more than his share of spoiled or rotten food and come out the other side. Much less so here, in spite of the climate, but a bad mushroom or the like is bound to turn up now and then.

No, what alarms him is Baltus bolting down the hallway and crashing into the bathroom door before, apparently, remembering he can simply become smoke and vanish underneath it. If Baltus is panicked like that...then the person hacking in the bathroom is Break, and something is actually wrong. How? And then it starts to click into place. Break has been a little...off this month. Sometimes standing still as if struck by something, occasionally clumsy in a way that suggests his vision hasn't returned as completely as it had seemed.

His health is failing again. And Lucius knows much it can fail - he saw that when Break arrived.

How did he not realize? He's been so caught up in the memory of the person he was for a time last month, so bitter and hopeful and angry and determined (all in turn or all at once). He hadn't paid attention. Stupid. So fucking stupid.

He relaxes his hand from the fist it's formed into before he knocks on the door, steadies his voice to sound friendly but concerned. "Is something wrong?"

For Ruby: Late February

[payingfordeliverance]

And finally, the time comes for Xerxes Break to handle his shit.

That day is the 23rd of February. He wakes miserable and humbled, vision dark. When a twelve-year old is the one to find you suffering the consequences of your own stupidity and proceeds to sort you out through an especially bloody fit of nerves that has you prone on the floor in the bathroom, well, that's an extremely specific kick in the ass. The "leviathan" that Lysithea and some of the others are fighting should be arriving in short order, too, and Break needs to be capable of stepping up on her behalf yesterday. Having experienced enough strange bouts of pain to have noticed what thoughts seem to herald them, Break is pretty sure the solution is to pay a visit to the Pale Sanctuary and have a chat with Mother Mercy, so that's where he decides to start. It's not unlike the way the churches functioned at home. Break hasn't attended in years upon years, knowing himself without a doubt to be too much a sinner to ever be welcomed or redeemed. But the familiarity of the notion of "confessing" is as good a thing to reach for as anything else in a world that just loves forcing everyone to talk about their problems.

He drops by Qrow's place first, though. Ostensibly, it's simply to have a look around and check in to see if anybody needs anything, which he's been doing frequently since Darth Maul set everyone up in arms. Deep down, however, Break is procrastinating. His head is such a jumble of unpleasantness that he doubts he'll even know where to start when he gets to the Sanctuary.

What he doesn't count on is getting intercepted by Ruby Rose as he meanders the halls of the mansion, hand on his omen's shoulder so he doesn't get lost. She already dubbed him "Uncy Breaky" during her bout of childhood in the previous month, but Qrow is going around with a purple bracelet on his arm these days and Break, prone to long sleeves that hide its partner, has little red gemstones twinkling in his earlobes. It should be no surprise to him at all that if he wasn't already showing up on Ruby's personal Angsty Uncle Radar before, he certainly is now. And yet, despite coming here explicitly to check on people, Break still pauses in surprise when he hears someone approaching. He'll have his head tilted in her direction when he appears, but Break won't greet her until he recognizes her voice, a sure indication that his sight is gone again.

[onekindsoul]

Break certainly had been popping up on Ruby's radar more and more. While it had been a little since they spoke she had caught notice to the colour purple that Qrow had been wearing more and more lately. Not a lot of purple, just a little purple. Enough that it might be a subtle sign that something could be going on.

She had not had much of a chance to talk with Qrow about it directly as she had been preparing to battle the Leviathan herself. And the recent Maul events had definitely put the house on high alert. There is a mystery that she has to solve but she hasn't had the chance to get on it quite yet.

That is until she turns the corner and catches Break in the hallway all by his lonesome and the gears start turning in her mind. She catches the flash of red on his earlobes and she opens her mouth to make a slight "Oh" sound.

"Unc- Breaky- Break." Okay. Look this is not the first time she has had the problem of a bit of spillage from her time as her younger self, it probably wont be the last time eiher.

"So- What brings you here?"

For White Alice: Late February

[payingfordeliverance]

These "bond" things sound an awful lot like Contracts wrapped up in a fancy bow, honestly. To all appearances, they make things better more than they make things worse, and the danger lies more in acting with too much haste and having a connection go wrong than in "when time runs out, you get dragged into the Abyss and twisted into a monster" sorts of problems. Still, it's similar enough that it's certainly not something Break would do with any kind of casualness, and he can think of literally no one in Trench he'd be willing to tie himself to in such a fashion -- save one, perhaps, maybe.

The "familial" bonds, he's told, can be used to help stave off corruption, or even draw someone back from beasthood. There is a certain someone in Break's household where he really, really worries about these issues in particular, and being able to see it coming and maybe even support her through it could allow them to avoid a great deal of impulsive violence. That she'd be able to feel his own emotions in turn is annoying, but it's not as though she hasn't already seen directly into his heart and torn his tender bits into the light. In that sense, no one in Trench knows him better than she does, and the benefits outweigh the costs. When he winds up bound to her anyway through a heartstring incident, Break makes up his mind, and all that's left is to figure out how to ask her for such a bond without making her think think he doesn't trust her or that the bond is solely to keep tabs on her, even though both of these things are at least a little true.

In the end, the problem is solved for him when all the careless decisions he makes over the course of the month finally backfire on him, and Break realizes he can't trust himself.

Of course he'd known, logically, that he himself is as susceptible to corruption and the associated poor decisions as anyone else in the place. His own natural arrogance had made it feel like some minor side problem, however, and to have the reality of the matter thrown into his face is humbling. Clear-headed once again after his talks with Lucius and Ruby Rose, he can't deny anymore that he should really have someone on hand to drag him back from such things too, and who could possibly be better at that in any world than the one person who knows just how far he's capable of falling?

Break spends a day or two considering the best time, the best way to approach the matter -- not because he's hesitant now, but because asking for help is something he's historically terrible at, and whenever he makes the decision to do it he can't help but feel like it's something formal. Like there's a proper way to go about it, and rules that he should follow. In the end, the moment comes when the individual in question has lingered behind to help him with the washing up after dinner, and the way she spins happily around the kitchen with a parade of floating dishes all around strikes him as far more proper for the life they have now than anything else he can think of.

"-- Miss Alice. May I speak to you about something important?" he blurts, standing at the sink with his hands in hot dishwater. A heavy sigh follows. To get this over with will be a relief.

For Ange: Late March | cw: buried alive, struggling to breathe, flashback-ish, panic, falling

[payingfordeliverance]

Break is well aware of the catacombs. He spends the month of March serving as their guardian, in a way, or at least the guardian of the graveyard above, and the hilarity of finding himself in such a situation when he has a churchyard grim for an omen is not lost on him. But what else is he supposed to do? People come staggering out of the graveyard in droves, some of them stumble into his own backyard when they mean to get to the Sanguine Station instead, and the woods are crawling with beasts and the blood blisters that attract them. The last thing he wants is people getting eaten or lying around traumatized right next to his house, so there's nothing for it but frequent patrols, and he kills a great many beasts over those few weeks.

It is a nice enough distraction. But Trench simply can't leave things be, and just when Break dares to think he will get away without getting teleported anywhere this month, the catacombs finally snatch him away, too.

The experience of getting there is bad enough that later, in the aftermath, Break will regret making so many snide comments about that one time he was kidnapped by a flock of ravens and tossed into a boat. That mess was far preferable. This isn't the first time something has shot up from below to grab at him and pulled him through thick layers of pavement and magic to somewhere else, and honestly, he might have been able to handle it alright if it were just that. He's had plenty of practice in meeting things that have destroyed his nerves in the past and walking away with a smile, or at least a purpose. The problem is that this time, all that is accompanied by the new horrifying sensation of buried alive, with a dash of can't breathe on top of it. His time dealing with slowly disintegrating lungs gave him nightmares about drowning and oh it was not good to become human again in the cruel ocean after that, and the horrible dreams he has from time to time in Trench tend to be more of the same as he processes the physical panic that always came with that struggle. Now he finds himself with dirt in his mouth and he can't even move his arms as he likes to try and fight between the vines and the pressure of the earth itself crushing in around him and his instinct is to claw and strike out and he can't, and the fear of getting stuck that way, left that way, dying slowly and fighting it every second of the way again settles into him so thoroughly that by the time the magic suddenly spits him out and he's falling, Break has stopped thinking entirely.

His canesword hits the ground first, clattering against stone. Break follows with absolutely none of his usual grace, too disoriented to catch himself, and his crash landing is hard and painful. Shadows surge forth from his chest, reforming into Baltus, who'd put himself away to hitch along for the ride. But Break is so out of his own mind that he lashes out at his beloved omen when Baltus gets too close, collecting himself just enough to scurry backwards and away.

The omen stands there, watching carefully. Baltus isn't upset by the reaction. He may not have been present for it, but of course he's attached to Break's memories, and of course he can tell Break has lost himself in his own time and doesn't remember when he is. The first time Break was pulled through dimensions unexpectedly and had such a great fall, he woke to the Cheshire Cat leering over him, an enemy, and reacted much the same. As his person moves until he's got his back against the wall and sits there panting for breath, looking for all the world like a wounded beast ready to run, Baltus settles carefully down on the ground some distance away and makes himself not a threat. He will watch over Break until he recognizes him again, and make sure no one else who might be down here gets too close before he's ready in the meantime. Break always feels so wretched after, when he strikes out at someone without meaning to.

tagging this first so i wouldn't forget to do so!

[entreats]

Ange had been so lost in her own misery that she had completely forgotten this was even a possibility this month. That it was something that had happened a few times to her already, before her entire month - no, her entire life, it feels like - had been turned around by a particularly nasty realisation straight in the middle of it.

And while it seems that she had been spared by the experience for a while as she was trying to deal with its aftermath, it doesn't seem like she can be quite that lucky forever. Near the end of the month she feels herself being drawn back in, the sensation and surroundings familiar enough by now that Ange takes it in with more calm than she has had for the past two weeks.

Maybe it's just some survival instinct within her that shifts into gear. No time to be sad and miserable when she's first got to live. When she's got to make it out of here.

Very soon after finding herself in the catacombs though, she no longer finds herself alone. As she wanders the dark halls, her footsteps the only sound that echo off against the walls, she spots a very familiar figure on the floor there.

Not Break. Not immediately. It's Baltus she sees first. It might be a good thing in this case, because as Ange and the omen share a gaze, and she hears that gasping for breath, it's like she can grasp a lot of the situation already. Maybe not all of it - but it sure leaves Break's state less of a surprise as she moves a bit closer, just close enough to see that he's right there with the omen. Just to spot what he looks like right now.

Something about Baltus' body language says enough about him being protective of the person he's connected to in this moment, but Ange figures that the omen is at least at enough of a distance away from Break that she can move right up to Baltus and kneel down next to the noodley dog without it being a problem quite yet. Without invading Break's space.

Still.. she's worried about startling Break while the other seems this panicked, so she doesn't say anything just yet. Instead her eyebrows knit together into a frown of worry as she stares at the man, wondering what to do as one of her hands reaches over to idly pat Baltus on the head.