It's not just where you make your bed, as long as we're together, does it matter where we go? Who: The Min family What: Checking out their new house Where: Commoners’ District When: Today Rating: Old-school Disney Status: Complete
Peony had intended to find a rental, but the narrow, brick-faced townhouse with its handkerchief-sized yard and neatly tended pots of flowers on the kitchen sill had been put on the market for a laughable price by owners who were desperate, it seemed, to flee Emillion “before the next calamity.” It had been truly too good a deal to pass up.
Buying it -- lived-in furniture and all -- would perhaps be seen by some as a statement of intent to remain. And it was that, a little, but it was also a bit of an investment, as boys would not stay boys forever. Perhaps it was more wish than promise, in the end -- that the two of them would choose to stay here, that she would be able to walk down a quiet tree-lined street to see them when she or they wished.
And so, having made arrangements to hire a housekeeper (however adult the twins were considered at sixteen, she sincerely doubted their capacity to care for themselves), she had then sent out the message with the address and as she waited begun using Air to arrange the furnishings in the living room to her satisfaction.
The news that he’d have his own place -- well, a place to share with his brother and sister, but still -- was a welcome one. Sky had quickly packed up what meager belongings he had in his possession (he had lost most in the attack, and he refused to entertain the idea of going back to the Docks so soon; and besides, by now, looters would’ve made off with even the most useless of what he once owned) and met Pyr halfway between the guildhall and the hellhole of nuns and together, the twins made their way to the address Peony had given them.
Sky was in awe when they came upon the building. It was far more impressive than the crap studio flat Arwel had stuck him in already. He turned to Pyr and broadly grinned, darting to the front door.
“Our own place!” he exclaimed, victorious.
Pyr grinned back at his twin, and they approached the front door, torn between excitement and disbelief. There was even a brass knocker on the door, which in Pyr’s opinion made the house a thousand times cooler. He glanced at Sky and they both stifled laughter; then, clearing his throat importantly, Pyr grabbed hold of the knocker and put it to its intended use.
As he heard the footsteps approaching on the other side, he almost forgot to breathe. He wondered what sort of house it was, if it had chandeliers, or maybe spiral staircases (and if it did, he would go down to breakfast every single morning by sliding down the banister). He heard barking on the other side of the door and grinned.
“Ratchet!” he whispered excitedly to his brother.
And indeed, the dog was the first to greet them as the door opened, Peony behind him. The barking ceased the moment the dog recognized the boys. “I see you have taken the liberty of packing already,” she said once she realized that they were carrying a number of items. “I suppose it is a good thing I have already had your keys made. Come in.”
Pyr’s hopes of an elaborate interior would be dashed -- the house was simple, the furnishings plain, the rooms fairly small, and the staircase built into the wall with no spiral in sight. But it would certainly be an improvement over barracks -- or a tiny room in the monastery.
Sky took the invitation eagerly, dropping his bag in the doorway and hopping inside, stopping short of a few feet in. He, too, had imagined something a little more grand, something to rival their parents’ place back in Ordalia even, but he wasn’t disappointed. It was more space than he’d had the past year for one, and for another, it was his. Theirs. And with no supervision!
Well, aside from Peony, and the housekeeper (not that Sky was sure she necessarily counted; all she had to do was clean, after all), but no parents, no boss, no nuns, what could be better?
“This is…” He cleared his throat. “Cool.” Then he patted Ratchet on the head. “You gonna be our guard dog?”
“Of course he is.” Like his brother, Pyr had dropped his bag the moment he’d come in; now he knelt on the floor beside Ratchet, scratching behind the dog’s ears. “He’ll be the best guard dog. And we’ll play and give him treats all the time.”
Ratchet barked, as if he understood and approved. This was the best part of the new house, as far as Pyr was concerned. Dogs weren’t allowed in the guildhalls (he’d asked) and he doubted Quiz would appreciate having a dog around, but Ratchet had been Riyeko’s dog. Maybe he hadn’t known the machinist so well, beyond a few dinners at her house and the consequences of poking at her inventions, but Pyr wouldn’t let her dog go to a shelter.
He glanced up at Peony and knew she felt that way too.
“I want to see the house,” he announced, standing up. He looked around and, seeming to realise he’d had a bag when he’d walked into the house, picked it up off the floor.
“Shoes,” peony said mildly; only once they had both remembered their manners did she lead them up the narrow stairs to the bedrooms, guessing that their private space would probably interest them most of all. here would be time enough to visit the kitchen -- and consume the red bean buns she had brought -- later.