[h3]Ranch House[/h3]

It was clear that the years of abandonment had taken its toll on the house’s kitchen. The sink hadn’t worked in Soren’s first few tries, and when it finally sputtered to life, the water that gushed forth was tinted a bright orange. The insides of the oven were so jammed and so heavily coated in grease that even looking at it wrong seemed dangerous, and the insides of the cabinets had been concealing a nest of roaches before they were forcefully evicted from their home. The first few days they had been living there Soren hadn’t even risked making a proper meal in the place, instead rolling up his sleeves and working to fix up the place to the best of his ability. Both Percival and Clockwork had joined in where they could, digging out old cleaning supplies and scrubbing and scaring the occasional pest away, and, while he doubted that the kitchen would ever be restored to its former glory, it felt more...homey. 

Especially now in particular. He found himself quietly murmuring the lyrics to some old pre-war songs as he worked- not of a few years ago, but of an era that most of the Wanderers had only heard tales of- fingers deftly shaping dough into something more appealing. His Gift served as his tool, bringing the sweet scent of freshly baked biscuits to life. His children were with him. If it wasn’t for the ghastly truths lying in both the attic and basement, Soren could have been almost...content. 

He sighed quietly at the sound of a struggle behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder, a bowl of batter in his arms. [color=#7fe817]“Percival, please put your sister down.”[/color]

Percival, still clad in face paint, grinned back at him. In one arm he was holding Caroline upside-down by the waist, who looked distinctly unimpressed by her current position. [color=#E66C2C]“What was that?”[/color] He hummed. [color=#E66C2C]“Couldn’t hear you.”[/color]

[color=#7b68ee]“He said to put me down.”[/color] 

[color=#E66C2C]“You [i]sure[/i]?”[/color]

Soren placed the bowl down, crossing his arms over his chest. [color=#7fe817]“Yes, that’s exactly what I said. Leave Caroline be.”[/color]

The ginger let out an exaggerated sigh. [color=#E66C2C]“Fine.”[/color] With easy movements, Percival flipped Caroline right-side up, setting her carefully back down to her feet...only to whisk her back into his arms not moments after, tickling her ferociously. [color=#E66C2C]“Didn’t say I had to [i]leave[/i] her down,”[/color] he sang, ignoring the rather pointed “dad-look” Soren shot him in response. [color=#E66C2C]“She just has to surrender and I’ll leave her alone. You surrendering yet, Clocks?”[/color]

Clockwork, squirming helplessly, managed to shake her head. [color=#7b68ee]“Never.”[/color] 

[color=#E66C2C]“Then you will die braver than most!”[/color] Percival picked up his attack, throwing his head back to bellow out maniacal laughter. He only ceased when the less bookish of the Schippers entered the room, Hel in tow. [color=#E66C2C]“Hi, Spire,”[/color] he said, following it up with a cheerful [color=#E66C2C]“Bye, Spire,”[/color] as the man just as quickly wandered off again. 

Clockwork, swallowing as many lungfuls of air as she could before Percival could resume his torment, nodded at Hel. [color=#7b68ee]“Good morning, Helena,”[/color] she said, distinctly short of breath. 

[color=#7fe817]“Good morning,”[/color] Soren repeated, smiling. He knelt to meet the girl’s eyes, idly brushing off some of the flour that had built up on the front of his shirt. [color=#7fe817]“Breakfast will be ready soon. If you’re hungry, though, you’re free to help yourself to one of the biscuits in the meantime.”[/color]

And then it happened. A strong citrus smell, strong enough to overpower the scent of dough. 

Then, the batch that had been rising atop the oven suddenly stilled, as did Clockwork. The girl’s eyes were wide, as much alarm as she could feasibly express. [color=#7b68ee]“Percival,”[/color] she said, tonelessly. [color=#7b68ee]“Please put me back down.”[/color]

Percival, who seemed more confused than anything, gently lowered his sister, watching as she immediately scampered to her father and clung to his side. [color=#E66C2C]“What happened?”[/color]

[color=#7b68ee]“I can’t sense him,”[/color] Clockwork murmured. Soren’s brow had creased as he picked Clockwork up, glancing over to the tray of biscuits. [color=#7fe817]“My Gift isn’t working, as well,”[/color] he added. He opened his mouth- to ask, perhaps, or give directions- when two things happened in quick succession. 

There was a loud thud just outside the window as Rei hit the ground, unmoving.

Hel sprinted outside, looking almost offended. 

[color=#7fe817]“Helena, wait!”[/color] Soren shouted, reaching forth to try and grab her before she slipped away, but to no avail. Clockwork’s own eyes were planted firmly on the window- or, more accurately, what lay behind it. [color=#7b68ee]“Reith.”[/color] She didn’t raise her voice- if someone was unfamiliar with the child, they might have mistaken it for calmness- but she reached for the window, then quickly shifted about and started tugging on Soren’s shirt. [color=#7b68ee]“We need to help her.”[/color]

Soren turned for the first time, paling upon catching sight of Reith. His eyes were not panicked, however, instead holding something far more steely within them. [color=#7fe817]“Percival,”[/color] he began. [color=#7fe817]“Could you-”[/color]

[color=#E66C2C]“On it.”[/color] Percival tore his own gaze away from the window to sprint out of the kitchen, murmuring a quick [color=#E66C2C]“fuck, fuck, fuck”[/color] under his breath as he weaved out of the house. It didn’t take long for him to take in the general chaos going on outside, as well as the incredibly gaudy man seemingly responsible. Normally Pierrot would admire that kind of theatrics, but given the fact that people were screaming and dying around him, his sister was freaking out, and there was a long haired pretty-boy in Eld Fen’s clothes calling the tank guy “master”, any appreciation for such a dramatic entrance was quickly snuffed out. 

Thankfully, Hel seemed alright, having been caught by Toby. Pierrot skipped around Nicodemus to join the little welcoming committee, grinning lazily. [color=#E66C2C]“Howdy,”[/color] he said, giving a two-fingered salute. His other hand had retreated to his coat, drawing out his trademark deck of cards, and he idly thumbed it as he eyed the man. [color=#E66C2C]“Come to sell us your used cars at amazingly affordable prices?”[/color] 

His smile betrayed none of the tension that had worked itself into his shoulders. 

Soren found himself just as preoccupied as his son, setting Caroline back onto the kitchen floor and gently placing a hand on her head. [color=#7fe817]“Stay inside,”[/color] he said, firmly. [color=#7fe817]“I’ll be right back.”[/color] He waited until she had given a soft [color=#7b68ee]“yes, father”[/color] before jogging outside. His jaw tightened upon seeing the state of affairs outside, but he moved with purpose until he reached where Reith’s body lay. He lifted her body carefully into his arms, taking in a sharp breath between his teeth upon seeing the full extent of the damage. There was no response from Rei, and no pulse from what he could feel. Giving a terse nod to the others, Soren returned to the living room, setting Rei gently upon the couch in the living room. Clockwork joined him not long after, resting a hand on the body’s arm. She looked even more like a doll now, face drained entirely of whatever color it managed to hold, eyes as large as pie dishes. 

[color=#7b68ee]“We can still help her,”[/color] Clockwork said. [color=#7b68ee]“We need to find a way out.”[/color] She didn’t move as Soren placed a hand on her shoulder, lips pulled into a tight line. 

The sudden, horrific shrieking pulled them both out of their thoughts.

Immediately, Clockwork hurried over to one of the windows, hopping to her toes to better peer out. Something was wrong. [i]Many[/i] things were wrong. Unable to see well from the warped glass of the living room, she went to the opened front door, not stepping out, but watching. 

Her hands clutched around the doorframe like vices. 

[color=#7b68ee]“Fen?”[/color] She called. Soren joined her again, face drawn. A thin trail of blood had made its way down his chin from his lips, although he made no move to wipe it free. His chest was tightened, body tensed and ready to grab his daughter if need be. 

This was a threat that had completely blindsided them, and from what it seemed, that had been wholly intentional.