I know who I was when I got up this morning...

[maddeninghatter]

Who: Gilbert Nightray, Xerxes Break, Phancyhive denizens
When: Saturday, August 4
Where: Phantomhive-Trancy Estate
Summary: Bodyswap shenanigans
Warnings: None

BANG! BANG! BANG!

[ Having paid attention to the network and the news over the past few weeks, as well as directly witnessing Ahiru's experiences, Xerxes Break wasn't completely surprised to awaken this morning in a different body. ]

BANG! BANGBANG!

[ Tch! Gilbert's hands are so enormous. Break adored them, at first; but how does one actually accomplish anything with such fat fingers? Getting bullets properly loaded into their chambers is an unexpected challenge. ]

BANG! BANG!

[ Gilbert's height feels awkward; he's clumsy and slow. Yet Break can feel a sense of vigor that he hasn't experienced in years. He'd forgotten what it felt like. Youth. Health. Even taking a deep breath is a pleasure (despite Gilbert's idiotic habit of poisoning himself with cigarettes).

Oh. And… binocular vision. Yes, that.

Which is why Break is outside the Phantomhive-Trancy estate, at 7 o' clock in the morning, shooting his name (Gilbert's name, actually!) into the side of a garden retaining wall. Because he can. ]

Comments

[retraced]

[The look of frightened, guilty, defeated despair that Break's face takes then is one so tragic looking that he definitely won't recognize it in his own bizarre mirrored reflection. He can't even bring himself to ask 'what?' Yes, yes he's definitely squirming.]

[spiderlilies]

Well, if it isn't Mister Xerxes Break!

[ Madam Red never did attempt to make sense of the man's mannerisms, and so when he's gripping onto the walls, she doesn't think much of it. In fact, she continues on her way past him - and gives him a friendly pinch on the bottom as she does! ]

Good morning~!

[maddeninghatter]

[ Although Gilbert's degree of pathos is in a class by itself, Break is absolutely familiar with fright, guilt, defeat, and despair. He's been experiencing them in turns (and sometimes all together) before, during and since his arrival at Siren's Port. However, actually seeing these emotions contorting his own face... ]

Explain!

[ It's illustrating his self-loathing in stark detail. His hand itches, once again, for the gun. ]

[retraced]

[He flinches again, like he's been burned, and replies with a very honest:]

I-I can't!

[retraced]

[Okay, first of all

no

no Break did not become friends with this woman.

Break, why would you do this to him? At this rate the teasing will never ever end! Not with Madame Red at his back and Xerxes Break in front giving him grief from both ends.

And speaking of at his back--]

Ee-eeeh?! [He leaps about a foot in the air at that pinch, grabs his rear with both hands and twists himself around to 'face' her. Of course, he can't see her all that well, there's only a shadowed area where he assumes her to be. Except in reality he's sort of yelling at a houseplant near her right now...]

W-w-w-what was that for?!

[maddeninghatter]

[ Something is going on with Gilbert, something very serious. But he can't concentrate; it's all too much. All the little irritants - his slender, girlish fingers, his slight, slender figure - as well as his own maimed face, staring at him with so much horror. He knows this is serious; but with so much stimulation, he can't concentrate, can't think, can't see...

He steps back. He closes his eyes. Suddenly, the world leaps into sharp focus. ]

Gilbert.

This is a chest wound. It should have killed you. What happened? Start at the beginning. How did you get it?

[retraced]

[It should have killed you. He's been saying this to himself for days now, in that same voice that he's listening to now, but never out loud. Hearing it now like this with the world a fuzzy dark mess and feeling like he's breathing through a thick sheet of canvas, it makes him want to cry.

Except there's no eye there to cry from, and the other feels dry and useless.

Useless...]

This isn't exactly the best time to talk about it. [Strained.]

1/2

[spiderlilies]

[ Madam Red simply has to stop for this, a hand pressed to her chest, as the other covers her grinning lips.

Just--... Just give her a moment to get these giggles out of her system. ]

O-oh you, stop~. [ Hee! ]

2/2

[spiderlilies]

[ Okay, okay. She'll wave that off now, head tilting inquisitively. That reaction seems almost... too genuine?

So, just to be sure, she'll reach to take his face in her hands, and gently turn it the proper way. ]

You are feeling alright, aren't you?

[retraced]

I'm--

[Damn it, he's already promised not to let anyone in the house know about what's happened! But how is he supposed to pretend to be Break when he doesn't even know the first thing about him?! His face goes bright red at her touch, and he turns his face down to hide his sightless red eye from her. What would Break say...]

Never better...just - m-maybe feeling a bit off today?

[Nailed it?!]

1/2

[maddeninghatter]

[ Break touches his own - that is to say, Gilbert's chest. It's a patchwork of scars; this fresh one is only the latest. ]

Why not? This isn't the first--

[ He stops, abruptly. With his eyes closed, Break can perceive the all the points of data that he has amassed over the years. Gilbert lies at a nexus. He was at Sablier; he is connected to everything, in some way. Break has never been able to perceive precisely how.

This isn't the first...

...

A bright pattern is beginning to emerge. He opens his eyes. ]

[maddeninghatter]

Ha! Ha! Ha!

[ His tone is suddenly jovial. He reaches for his stick and very lightly raps Gilbert's (his own) head with it. ]

I suppose you're right. Having a hard time walking in my shoes, hmmm?

[spiderlilies]

[ At that, her brow quirks high. ]

Is that right?

[ Leaning in closer to level with him, she mutters in turn: ]

I maybe feel as though you're not telling me the truth, dear.

[retraced]

[The first? His eye goes a bit wider. Of course Break has seen the rest of his old scars on his body by this point. Though that does make his stomach turn to think that Break has looked at any part of him without clothes on--

He's almost glad for the hit to the head, if only because it knocks that frightening thought right out of his brain. He reaches up to grab his head with both hands.]

H-hey! This is your body you're hurting!

[But he's still breathing a little frantically, unable to shake that sickening feeling away completely that Break will be questioning him about this at a later time.]

And I wouldn't be able to find your shoes even if I wanted to...

[Behold, Break. Your stupid girly bare feet.]

[retraced]

I - I don't have any reason to lie!

[Oh geez, why is she so close? Is this how she and Break usually act together?! He can't do this, he absolutely can't! He refuses! Okay, time to respectfully excuse himself.]

I'm sorry, milady, I have to - er - get tea and...go about my day! Please excuse me...

[Backing away slowly...!]

[maddeninghatter]

[ No, no, no. Break isn't going to question you at all, Gilbert; not for the time being, anyway. Right now, he's going to torment and tease and distract you as much as he can, in the hopes that he can keep you from thinking about it. Keep you from connecting the dots. There's a hypothesis forming in Break's mind, but he won't say a word until he's sure; he needs to be right, very right. ]

Right, right. That's whyyyyyyyy we need to get you dressed! Wardrobe's here.

[ He spins Gilbert around by the shoulders and takes his hand, placing it on the front of the ornately carved wardrobe doors. ]

Boots are just outside the door.

[ They seem to get polished every night if he leaves them out. ]

Wear them. You'll stub your toes on everything, otherwise.

[ And DON'T let anybody see those tiny girly feet, geez Gilbert. ]

[retraced]

[Suddenly - spinning around! Being pushed through this sort of darkness is ridiculously dizzying all on its own. He truly has no idea how Break managed to hide this from him for so long. He runs that hand along the outside of the wardrobe, weak feminine fingers trailing down towards the doorknob.

And then he freezes and tenses up.]

I'm not wearing your clothes.

[There isn't enough black in this wardrobe. He doesn't care if he can't see it, he knows.]

SUNDAY EVENING

[maddeninghatter]

[ After his grand tour of the city, Break finally returned to Phancyhive, with Gilbert's body and the fabulous Jaguar. Both were unharmed. Dinner that night was, to put it mildly, lively. Break had a glass of wine, only because it had been offered. Alcohol never affects him.

Except, this time - it did!

Another strange effect of inhabiting Gilbert's body. The warm glow of the wine suffused through him, flushing his cheeks and filling him with happy, cozy, convivial feelings.

Which is why Break is now sprawled sideways across a sofa in the drawing room, after dinner, nursing a snifter unwisely full of scotch whisky. He has compelled Gilbert to sit with him - less for the company, and more to keep an eye on his own body. He's seen the way Gilbert keeps tottering around, he's going to have bruises for weeks! ]

Mmmmmmm.

This... stuff is... 's delightful!

Re: SUNDAY EVENING

[retraced]

[Today is the worst day of Gilbert's life.

Admittedly, every day becomes the worst day of Gilbert's life every time the sun comes up, but today is particularly bad. Aside from having a mild heart attack over yelling at Break's little joyride, stumbling into a side table in the hallway, having to deal with Oz doing the simplest menial tasks for him because he's flustered to even attempt at this whole blindness thing, and spilling half of his dinner into his lap, now he has to listen to his own voice completely smashed. He sits on the other side of the couch, the very picture of a Third Wheel without there even being a second. There's no need for one when it comes to these two, really.]

Don't say that like you've never had it before! And maybe you shouldn't have any more...

[maddeninghatter]

You... worry. Toomuch.

[ Break stretches and leans, shifting his position on the sofa. With difficulty, he manages to keep his drink level, whilst parking his elbow on Gilbert's (his own) shoulder. ]

Always f-fretting, always sulking. Depresshhhed and gloooooooomy. S-ssssickening.

[ A long sip from the snifter. Whisky isn't meant to be drunk that way, so he coughs, a little. ]

When's the last time you had any fun?

[retraced]

[This is the very epitome of secondhand-embarrassment. This, right here. He groans, but puts up with the very sudden elbow on his shoulder. After all, if any of that drink is spilled, he's going to have to be the one to clean it up when all is said and done. And if this takes a while for things to change back to normal, the stain will set by then...

Aaah, it's maddening to think about!!]

I'm not gloomy! I don't have time to be gloomy!

[Shouts the gloomy man.]

And why do people keep telling me to go have fun...what I already do is more than enough.

[maddeninghatter]

Take, f'rinstance - Yosuke. He's fun. Introduced me to Misssshter Fudd and his "wascally wabbit," haahahhahahahahaha~!

[ A dangerous almost-slop of the glass, as he giggles. The room is starting to spin a little bit, so he actually slides his arm about Gilbert's shoulders, to hang on. Ordinarily it would annoy him to feel how narrow and bony his shoulders really are; but right now - everything is simply lovely. ]

Going to take you to kar--kara--karakara--

[ And another long sip. ]

I dunno what... but I s-said you'd go!

[retraced]

You did what?!

[Oh yes, karaoke. He's spoken to Yosuke about the karaoke. He's expressed his EXTREME HESITANCE to participate in said karaoke for about a thousand different, but important, reasons. Damn it, how is he supposed to explain all of this to the boy later?

He reaches up to try and get Break to let go, angling his head away as far as it will go.]

That's enough, you've definitely had too much! Put the glass on the table! The table!

[maddeninghatter]

[ Whoa, Gil. You are moving a lot. Break feels suddenly dizzy. And not so good. He lets go of Gilbert, drawing woozily away from him. ]

Glass.

T-table.

[ He stares deep into the glass for a long time, as if trying to divine its secrets. Finally, with a look of determination and slow, lurching movements, he manages to get the glass on the side table. Sort of. The foot of it is about half-on, half-off the edge. But he seems satisfied with his effort, as he sits up again and glances over at himself... and... ]

Wuh--

Where--?

Where's Emily?

[retraced]

[He wishes he could see right now. At least then he'd be able to help Break do whatever it is that he's currently doing that sounds so difficult.]

Emily? [He can't tell that he's staring directly at him, or else the question might have made more sense.]

Your doll? You left her behind at home, right?