For the first time in almost a week, Break has left his room.

It was more out of desperation than because he felt safe doing so, really; instead of heading to the kitchen or the library, he's only fled to another bedroom, this one up on the third floor. But he's been out of things to do in his own room for some time. The books he's been able to concentrate on are long finished; all of his in-progress knitting is done as well and he needs to dye his remaining yarn before he can start anything else. He's done so much random sewing that he's used up all his fabric, and even gone so far as to throw his scraps together to make a crazy quilt.

Said quilt is folded across the foot of the bed in this new room, now. He's here because his other in-progress work is here, started before all this serial murdering came about and he had to lock himself away. The canopy of the bed now matches his own, white stars in various sizes sewn to the underside of it. Some of the intriguing bauble strings he and Hatter have been making are draped here and there; the shiniest ones, made from prisms that once belonged to the chandeliers they pulled down, are in the window, though they're hidden by the drawn curtains. The window itself is amazing for sitting in, a ledge with a plush seat and a bunch of pillows attached right to it. And surrounding the window is a castle, built of wood from furniture that had been destroyed and painted. A moat full of koi fish has been painted directly onto the floor, and inside, the mural that adorns the castle wall is that of ordinary people doing ordinary things. There's even a drawbridge door big enough for a grown man to slip through, though he'd have to bend over a bit.

It's the castle Break is working on; the stones aren't done. The mural and the fish are Hatter's work, as Break is no artist, but he can do textures and patterns well enough once he knows what needs to go where. There's a bit of fabric jammed under the door to hide the light of the candles surrounding him; it's the middle of the night even without the curtains drawn, and hiding is still wise. But the silence is way too heavy. So as he works, he's singing, very quietly and under his breath:

'Cause tonight, we're here in Boston,
In my apartment in the South End.
Forget your friends in London.
Come back to bed, my darling.

He almost doesn't care if he's discovered at this point.



[ooc: Forward-dated to after Vanessa murders the other Breaks in the mansion; private to grim_candy]