He's A Real Nowhere Man [Open, Active]

[johanliebert]

Characters: Johan Liebert, anyone else who wishes to greet him.
Setting: Entranceway to Grand Room
Time: Day 011, Early Evening
Summary: An attractive young man enters the house.
Warnings: None yet.

Comments

AUGH SO TL;DR I'M SORRY

[omnomnomsweets]

Break was in the chimney when Johan arrived. His cane and coat lay across a couch in the room below, and the logs lay on the mantle, but he himself was far out of sight. Since last night, he had been especially determined to find an exit from this damned house. When it was just some oddities and a ghost, he could have tolerated it. It was those things- he didn't take well to being helpless against an opponent- and worst of all, they had done something to his head. He hadn't even recognized Gilbert, and they'd known each other for more than 10 years. The idea that they could mess with his mind so easily didn't sit well with him at all, and he wasn't going to let it happen again. As soon as he was well enough to be up and abou he had been looking in every nook and cranny for something, anything, that might lead him out of the house and maybe back home

PFFFT WHATEVER.

[johanliebert]

If it was possible for a man to be unsurprised by a sooty ghostlike figure falling out of the chimney, theat man was most likely going to be Johan. He turned quickly, but smiled and crossed the room, raising his eyebrows slightly as he bent and offered a hand to help this strange figure up. "Hans Osterman. I'm sorry to intrude like this." He couldn't be sure that this man belonged in the house let alone assume ownership, given the circumstances, but that hardly dampened his manners--and he would be remiss if you missed this opportunity to ask.

"Is this house yours?" A simple yes or no would do, although he rarely got that little. Not a word, however, about what the man was doing in the chimney, or the state of his clothing, stained black with dust and ash. The red eye was the most unusual--coloured contacts, perhaps? It didn't particularly matter, but it was Johan's nature to see things and remember them... not that he'd have any problem seeing something as obvious as that.

[omnomnomsweets]

It was interesting that he took this in stride. Some of the other residents would be startled, and they had been living in this bizarre hellhole. Hans was apparently new, and yet he didn't bat an eye at a man dropping out of the chimney. Break smiled. Very interesting indeed. He moved out of the fireplace and stood, making a token effort to brush the mess off his clothes, before accepting the hand; he'd assumed it was a handshake, being more accustomed to the false niceties of high society than any actual courtesy.

He actually laughed out loud at the suggestion that this was his house.

"No no, we don't know whose house this is. No need to apologize for the intrusion either. By all appearances, it wants us here." He bowed slightly. "Xerxes Break. I take it you've just arrived, Mr. Osterman?"

[johanliebert]

Johan transitioned to accomodate Break's actions seamlessly, appearing as though he'd only intended to shake hands with him all along; he took the soot-covered hand easily and shook it warmly, letting go at just the right time and smiling with an ease that suggested not their unusual, rather dirty circumstances but a casual meeting, perhaps outside of a coffee-shop, or in a library.

"...yes, something like that." The blond man looked back over his shoulder reflectively. "But that's a strange way of putting it... almost as though the house were a living thing." He gave Break a curious look, tilting his head to the side slightly with a peculiar smile.

P.S. I've never made a cake before kjdfksd

[johanliebert]

Johan raised his eyebrows--not in disapproval or censure, but attentively, with an inquisitive look. "Good luck? Then perhaps these cakes will come out well after all." He smiled at Break, then turned, humming to himself quietly as he retrieved the rest of the necessary ingredients from the refrigerator. The eggs and milk were set on the counter while he fetched a pair of appropriately sized cake pans. "Baking is very simple, if you know the proportions," he explained, pulling them out from the bottom cabinets. "Although I'm afraid I haven't heard of your Rainsworth family

[omnomnomsweets]

Break listened to the entire spiel, but most of his attention was stuck back with the oven. He'd seen ovens before. They were large stone contraptions powered by fire. And considering some of the oddities in the house, like the things on the ceiling that lit up when you flicked a switch on the wall, he had gathered that life in this place was not entirely like life back home. But to be told that this tiny boxy contraption was the oven, as it beeped and flashed neon numbers at him, was a little harder to wrap his mind around. He leaned down and inspected the offending oven until Hans stopped to ask about his clothes. Abruptly he straightened himself and turned to Hans, matching casual tone with a casual smile.

"They're fairly normal for my world," he said, still intent on giving very unhelpful answers until Hans did the reasonable thing and asked questions about the house. "And ah, the oven- you said this was the oven, didn't you? What are all these little buttons and lights all about?"