Photo album spread out on my bedroom floor...

[almost_knightly]

There was nothing remarkable about the day when Break got up this morning. There was nothing remarkable lying in wait in his bathroom, and nothing remarkable between himself and the kitchen, and nothing remarkable between the kitchen and the library.

The library, however, held something new today. It was lurking on the bottom shelf, easily missed but for Break's habit of crawling around on the floor -- a large binder, sedate red leather and several inches wide.

Break knows that binder.

Fingers shaking, he snatches it up out of the shelf. He fumbles it, and it falls open, and the first thing he sees is Faneuil Hall at Christmas, covered in snow. Below that is a photograph of Shelly, his own Shelly, dressed in winter clothes and laughing with Sharon when she was still small, and there's his ponytail in the photograph next to it because no one could ever get him to look at the camera that first year and he's seen these pictures a thousand times --

He slams the book shut, suddenly unable to look. A cruel gift, in a way; there are days that he wonders if he'll ever see this place and these people again. But on the other hand, now -- now he can show people, he can let them see things he's only described. It's as precious as it is mean.

Gathering the photo album up close to his chest and clutching it as though he's afraid it'll vanish, Break leaves the library, in search of some of the people he trusts most.


[ooc: Locked to hadengineered, retraced, of_murder, standstilltime, smallkindnesses, info_barma]

Comments

[hadengineered.livejournal.com]

He stares at him for a moment, before turning slightly to face him properly. That's piqued his curiousity.

"May I see?"

[almost_knightly]

He relaxes suddenly and toddles into the room, joining Knave there on the piano bench. With a bit of difficulty, he lowers the cover, and allows the album to fall open there against the piano.

It opens to some place sort of in the beginning of the middle, and the first photograph is of the Boston Commons, right at the top of the page.

"That's the city where I live," Break says, pointing to it. The other two photos on that page are of Break's own Shelly, smiling with a book in her hand, and Break and his Liam. They're sitting on a blanket on the grass. Liam is a skinny teenager, though already almost at his full height, and Break looks like any other Break in the mansion, but for the clothing.

Naturally, Liam looks irritated, and Break is laughing at him.

[hadengineered.livejournal.com]

"That is Mister Liam and Lady Shelly-"

He points out, curiously, leaning in and peering at the photograph. Obviously they're younger then. "A picnic?"

[almost_knightly]

"We were seeing a play."

Break doesn't remember exactlywhich one.

"There's a famous playwright named William Shakespeare in my world -- long dead, but most everyone has at least heard of him. Every summer, a theater group in Boston puts on one of his plays in the Common for free, so anyone can come and see."

[hadengineered.livejournal.com]

"There are plays by him in the library," he murmurs, faintly fascinated by Break's memories, and watching him talk. He's speaking in an animated sort of way that Knave has only seen him do so whenever he spoke of home.

"...you sat still throughout a whole play?"

[almost_knightly]

"It's a shame we don't have actors here experienced enough to really pull those plays off. I mean, you can read 'em, but Shakespeare is meant to be seen."

Home, for him, is something only a few of the people around him really understand. Even the other moderns can't know completely -- they all have different Breaks who do different things. Being held so apart from the others still wears on him, some days, even though in the beginning it was something he wanted. Now it excites him to be able to show people his own world at last, rather than ramble on about electric lights and buildings a hundred stories tall and have people look at him like he's lost his mind.

"My favorite of his is Midsummer Night's Dream. It's one of his comedies, about a bunch of fairies, and --" Wait. "...I can sit still! I sit still all the time! It helps if I've got somefin' to snuggle, but..."

He flips a page and there's another picture from the play; Sharon is in his lap. Yep.

[hadengineered.livejournal.com]

"No you do not," he says, peacefully, leaning in close. Humans are curious creatures, really. Knave has one of the oldest souls in the mansion and he's never really understood - or he'd forgotten - what it was like to be so excited about something so fleeting.

There's a contemplative silence when he recognises Sharon. "...why is she...? Is this customary in your time?"

[almost_knightly]

"I do so," Break grumps. "...at home. When there's fings that'll actually hold my attention. Honestly, most of my time here is spent making my own fun."

And it's very tiring. Some days there is little he wants more than to just plop on a couch somewhere and have a movie marathon. Fun movies that he doesn't have to think about, owing to having seen them a thousand times before -- movies he never actually thought he'd ever be without.

"Sitting on people, you mean?" Break shrugs. "We're a lot more open about physical contact being okay, yeah, if the relationship allows for it. Sharon's like a younger sister to me, and she started climbing on me not long after I arrived. Although." He smirks, just a little sadly. "Right after this, she hit that age where she wanted to go everywhere and do everyfing all by herself. She got a lot less affectionate, then. But I still get hugs."