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

[retraced]

He smiles, almost sardonically at the response. Yes, that's definitely not something to just let go right after meeting a person. He can understand his counterpart's feelings perfectly, even though they're from two completely different worlds.

"And I'll bet you still did it again later, regardless."

[almost_knightly]

"Shyeah. He made 'em himself and even then his baking was better than the grocery store's."

Poor otherworld Gilbert; Break acquired a taste for his cooking early. *3

[retraced]

"That doesn't give you the right to steal it..." Grumble, grumble. Pretending that he's not taking that as a compliment by-proxy.

[almost_knightly]

"I do remember the day he started bringing me snacks of me own so I wouldn't steal his," Break says fondly, disregarding that comment completely and beeeeeaming. "That was such a good day! Pretty soon he was having to leave piles of baked goods in the kitchenette on that floor because everybody wanted 'em."

Totally oblivious to what this might be doing for this Gil's ego, but if it gets him more food, he's okay with it anyway.

[retraced]

Sadly, Gil's ego is feeling pretty good right now about all of this. And yes, he's also considering bringing Break food more often if this is how much he enjoys it. In other words, Just As Planned.

"Hmph," is all the recognition of this idea he gives, however.

[almost_knightly]

You see now how he manages to hold Gilbertine in such thrall? Of course you don't. You are also a Gil. But the rest of us do.

"Fings never -- well, they never got back to normal between us, at home. After I got sick. He avoids me. Sometimes he leaves outright when I walk in a room."

He's never really admitted this aloud before -- not even to Liam, who would probably try to fix it. He does know that Oscar once had the same problem, though.

[retraced]

There were definitely moments - after Sablier, after the tragedy in the mansion - that Gilbert had attempted to avoid long-term contact with Break, or at the very least was frightened by the idea of it, but to actually avoid him outright...

Break had said that his own Gilbert was more mature, aged and grown than this Gilbert was now, but hearing that, he couldn't quite believe it. Didn't he understand his dedication to this man? Even if it's not the same world, it still hurts him to have to think about it that way.

"...He'll come around. If he's anything like me he will, at least."

[almost_knightly]

Well. In his own Gilbert's defense, he was still convinced he'd caused what had happened. No one had ever been able to get him to believe otherwise, and he'd seen the barest edges of what Break had gone through. That had been enough.

"One of these years," Break says, sounding just the tiniest bit wistful.

It's been nice, here, having Gils about.

[retraced]

"It'll be..." he starts, cutting himself off from finishing the sentence. How can he say for sure that everything will be fine? If they were in the same circumstance, would he and his own Break be fine? Could he really look his own in the eye and accept that he could possibly be responsible for something that almost killed him? They'd fought each other's side in battle, and Gilbert knew that there was always a chance that he'd get cut down in the middle if he got in Break's way, but...never the other way around.

So he doesn't finish the sentence, but he does reach out to place a hand on Break's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze to answer in lieu of words.

[almost_knightly]

Break laughs, softly, at the contact. Hadn't it been their -- second? Hadn't it been their second meeting when he'd reached out to this Gilbert to comfort him and been stared at like he'd grown another head? But he doesn't pull away, or shrug him off.

"I hear he's doing very, very well," he says quietly. There's that at least. "He should be...off to Italy at home, by now, actually."

[retraced]

"For cooking?" he asks, dropping his hand back to his lap. It's still a strange thing to consider that his counterpart is off learning to cook fancy food somewhere and neglecting non-existent duties to a man who isn't his master. Even after all of the people he's met here, it's still impossible to fathom.

A hand moves up to rub at his forehead, eyebrows crinkling as though in slight pain, but he barely makes any notice of it.

[almost_knightly]

"Mm. God, the food in Italy. I gotta go back there someday. I actually managed to gain weight there when Liam and I went."

Curiously, Break flips a bit -- he's pretty sure Shelly selected some photos from the trip they took to Europe, the year before Break was ill. Sure enough, he finds a photo of a bakery in Italy, with himself leaning up against the shop window like an excited little kid.

The other photos on the page are all of St. Peter's Basilica, with Liam appearing in a few of them. Break points out a photo of the exterior and says, "Ah -- this is in Rome, one of the most famous Catholic churches. Liam's a Catholic, so he wanted to go see it."

sorry I'm too busy drooling over that picture

[retraced]

The first picture makes him smile and nearly laugh out loud. Those sorts of sweets would be common in a fancier bakery at home, and commonplace during events for the noble houses, but it's clear that Break is impressed by them in the photo. His own Break would probably be glad for the variety, not excited to see such elegant food.

"Catholic? It's a religion?"

Infuriating, isn't it?

[almost_knightly]

Obviously, if ever a city or something should pop up, Gilbert should spend a day following Break around while he scours out all the tasty, tasty food shops. It is bound to be entertaining.

"Yeah. His whole family follows it, but he's quiet about it. He'll be able to explain it to you better than I could, if he ever shows up -- ahhh, but here's why we were in Italy that time of year; I wanted to see the Carnevale in Venice."

Break flips another page, and the next two pages are crammed full of people in beautiful costumes and masks. There are even pictures of mask shops, and Break is clearly enamored.

"This is a Catholic festival, actually. They've got a fing called Lent, where you -- you fast and pray and consider your sins and blah blah, and the day right before Lent is the day you go crazy wiv parties and amazing food so you can get it all out of your system before that. Carnevale happens in the couple weeks leading up to that."

ALL MY RAGE

[retraced]

The costumes and masks actually...sort of look familiar. Perhaps a bit brighter and more gaudy than the ones at home, but it's a familiar enough tradition within nobility to hold masquerades. Seeing Break impressed by them, though, is strange.

"Your sins..." he repeats, lowly. "I see. Strange...."

[almost_knightly]

"What those are exactly depends entirely on who you ask," Break says dryly. "That's why I can't take much stock in organized religion. Liam's one of the best people I know, and there's people who'd say he's going to Hell just for being wiv me."

Gently, he runs one finger over the edge of one of the shop photos, cluttered with masks of all sizes and shapes. He loves these glorious, fancy old things that Europe is so full of. Now that he's definitely all better, maybe he and Liam should go on another trip.

[retraced]

"I'd think that Hell would be a place that would require something a lot worse than that to gain entry to," he mumbles, looking extremely exhausted and depressed all of a sudden. They'd thought the same thing about the Abyss too, and yet only hours after discussing it, Oz plummeted into it for absolutely no reason at all.

He clears his throat and turns back to look at the photo again, trying to take his mind off of that horrible memory.

[almost_knightly]

"That's what I fink, and that's what Liam finks," Break agrees. "But people will believe the most awful stuff...you alright?"

He feels safer being open to the elder Gils than he does the younger. Even so, they're all still Gils. Now and again they remind him that he'll never really know for sure what is and isn't going to upset them.

[retraced]

"...A bad memory," he admits, though it's clear that he's not going to breakdown or feel any pain because of it. It's just one that reminds him of everything that he stands to lose if he ever fails again.

"An old one. I'm okay."

[almost_knightly]

"Ah."

Break has plenty of those himself. He's not about to push it.

His hands linger on the edge of the page for a moment, thoughtfully. Then he turns to some photos of the winter holiday season; the very first image is one of some street or other in Beacon Hill, lovingly decorated for Christmas.

"What sorts of fings do you do for Christmas here? Yuletide, was it?"

[retraced]

The question, as well as the photo, make him smile. These memories, for the most part, are happy ones. Even if Oz's father was never there Master Oscar had always made the winter season a fun one for all of them to the best of his ability. The Nightray house itself was generally nothing more than an obligation and a hassle, but seeing Ernest get escorted from at least one ball in the past for being too drunk was worth the wasted evening.

And of course, the last two that he spent here were for the most part pleasant enough. There was no shortage of people that he cared about close by, at least.

"There's usually a big feast, exchanging of gifts and well wishes for the new year. Family games."

[almost_knightly]

"So you do give gifts here," he murmurs. Time to go ahead and start considering his own, then; in a place like this, he'll have to make everything, and there's a whole lot of people he likes in the mansion. At the very least, all the children should get something.

"What sorts of games?"

[retraced]

"Children usually made up their own games," he answers, remembering back to the games that Ada and Oz would construct for themselves.

"Claude once challenged Vincent to a game of chess after the holiday dinner, but when Vince beat him, Ernest flipped the board off of the table..."

[almost_knightly]

Break chortles at that image. Then, lacing his fingers together, he sits back a bit. His head tilts to one side as he thinks.

"My brovver never wanted to play wiv me much. We never liked the same sorts of games, or stories. But the family would go out to see the tree in Trafalgar Square every year, and we'd visit my grandparents. Granddad would sit us down and read us stories to keep us out of the way while Mum and Gram cooked."

That was how Break had learned to do voices while reading aloud, in fact -- listening to his grandfather. He often thinks back on it while he reads to the kids here.

[retraced]

"The Nightray family had enough servants to cook for them that the Duchess never had to be involved in it. I don't think she knew how to cook at all, actually," he mumbles, scratching at the side of his head.

"But at the Vessalius house, I'd help prepare the meal every year. I was so scared that Oz wouldn't like it..."