Some Pig [Charles]

“Oh. My. God. Nevy, you did not! You bought a piggybank! When are you gonna crack him open?” Azunica’s face filled the computer screen as Neveah held up her late christmas present to herself. She had been researching and preparing for her little piglet for ages now, it just wasn't something she talked openly about and part of that was because her siblings were as immature as ever.

“Zuni, that’s not a piggybank... it’s easter dinner for two.” their brother Gabriel passed through the living room of their parent’s home carrying his son in one arm and a bowl of crackers they were sharing in the other while the boy force fed his father yet another. With the holidays over everyone was slowly packing up and heading back to their homes and lives away from Texas.

“I don’t know why I accept skype calls from your people anymore.” Neva rolled her eyes and put the basket holding her piglet back on the floor, he wasn’t exactly asleep but lounging. The drive up from the breeders was longer than his little energy level could take and he was enjoying the pampering his new human was giving him. The piglet gave a noncommittal little snort and wiggled a little in his basket, “You two are completely immature but I gotta go soon, I’m going to do some things today.”

“Like size your oven for the mini pork roast?” Azunica grinned.
“Goodbye, you instigators. Send everyone my love.” With a wave the skype call ended and the program made it’s little blips and bloops as it shut down. Neva closed her laptop and put it back on her desk and plugged it in to change, then crouched down to see to her little pig gently stroking his snout with her index finger, “I think I’ve decided on St. Crispin the Baptist for your name, but I’ll just call you Crispin, do you like that boy?” Crispin didn’t seem to mind his christening, especially since it was followed by a bowl of sliced fruit and carrots. As Neva’s new pet ate happily in her lap --as he decided she was more comfortable than the blankets, she was reading one of the flagged sections of her pig ownership books that made the trip from Baltimore to Cabin Creek. Crispin was going to need a place outside as well as room in her apartment...and then what about summer, air conditioning wouldn’t help him as efficiently as a place to wallow would.

It was a chilly day but it would be good for her and Crispin both to take a walk outside, this was his home too now and it would be nice to give him a lay of the land. Suddenly Nevaeh understood the practicality of those silly animal sweaters. She didn’t have any clothes fro crispen and it was 34 degrees outside. It took some doing and the ten week old piglet let his displeasure be known loudly with a few petulant squeals as he was bundled heavily in blankets and kept off the snow while they took the grand tour. It was a small mercy that it was not snowing, or raining again, the snow was no longer fluffy and soft making the barest whispers when someone walked through it, after weeks on the ground and then a few evenings of frigid rain there was a crust of ice covering the white fluff making Nevaeh’s every step snap and crunch at the surface and then sink into the sludgy snow.

It didn’t bother her as much as she thought it would. Winters in baltimore were similar but it seemed maybe colder here, likely due to the fact they were so far away from cities and the buildings were spaced further apart not to mention these were old buildings with all the idiosyncrasies that came along with them. Sometime you had to giggle the toilet to make the water inside stop running, or use just the right amount of pressure to get a door open, or have it stay shut.

“Crispin, I think I’m a little lost.” She admitted to the little pig with a smile, looking into the bundle where he sat in her arms warm and comfortable, “Well I’m lost on the ground in the middle of the afternoon, nothing’s going to happen, besides I have my radio, I think we’re near the stable block, let’s go see who’s awake there and maybe you can meet some of the other farm animals.”

In a scene, your presence often has a calming effect on those around you.

Though horses would always be the animals Charles favored most, he had developed a fondness over the decades for the other livestock Hallowsgate kept on the grounds - the goats in particular. They were creatures of very strong personality, as if making up for their diminutive size with an ample supply of attitude, and he could spend hours in their paddock, watching the males playfight while one of the does rested her head on his knee, loudly objecting whenever he was distracted from scratching between her ears. He knew every one of them as he might old friends by now, knew which ones were prone to being ornery, which ones tended to be subject to bullying by the others (and these he had more than once materialized just long enough to sneak an extra treat behind the living staffs' backs, a little secret just between them). They'd been companions to him for a good portion of his afterlife, and when he'd finished his work with the horses for the afternoon he made his way back to the paddock, smiling and laughing when one of the juveniles - a doe named Patty - bounded over and butted against his thigh, leaning up to nibble curiously at his back pocket.

"I haven't got anything for you, I'm sorry." He chuckled, kneeling down to scoop her into his arms, noting that she was nearly too heavy for him to do this - the rich winter feed had added a few pounds to her, and he told her so with an impish smile, earning him a snort than he interpreted as indignant. "Oh, very well, I apologize. I suppose it is rude to comment upon a lady's weight, isn't it? It looks quite fetching on you, though." He murmured to her, yet another habit he'd picked up over ninety years dead; if he was honest with himself, it was probably allowing himself to talk to animals (and sometimes inanimate objects) that had kept him from beginning to lose his mind in death, and he'd long assured himself that there was no shame in it. He hefted the little goat a little higher on his chest, and she bleated companionably, resting her scruffy chin on his shoulder as she snuggled for warmth, content to be toted over to the fence and petted as Charles seated himself on it to appreciate the snow-strewn grounds. He hadn't been expecting anyone else to be out this far on a day like today, but he'd scarcely sat down when he heard a voice from nearby, leaning over to look around the side of the building and catching sight of a dark-haired woman who appeared to be about his age, murmuring to a bundle of blankets wrapped in her arms.

"Good afternoon!" He greeted her with a pleasant smile, raising the hand that wasn't supporting Patty's rear in a wave, oblivious to the way the little goat had taken to nibbling on his curls, which had come back with a vengeance as he'd worked up a sweat earlier, despite how hard he'd worked to tame them that morning. He was about to ask who on earth the woman was talking to when she drew near enough for him to see a tiny snout poking out of the blankets, snuffling curiously. "What have you got there?" He asked, leaning forward on the fence. "My word, is that a piglet? He can't be much more than a newborn." They hadn't, after all, begun breeding pigs quite so small in the early 1900's, and he wasn't used to seeing them this size unless they were fresh from their mothers. Where on earth she had managed to procure one, he hadn't the faintest idea - they certainly didn't keep them here.

Crispin was a patient piglet as his human spoke to him, which she did a lot. From the long ride in the early part of the day back to this place that smelled very new then into her home and then to boxes with face that looked like hers and people that were bigger and much smaller than she was/. She lifted him to the box a few times and the people cooed and squealed at him; other sid things that made face turn colors. he enjoyed all of the attention and while Crispin was too little for the words to matter but the cadence did, it was happy which made him feel peaceful. What the little pig did not appreciate though was her constant covering of his face; he wanted to see the winter weather with his own eyes instead of having to huff and wiggle his face to get the blanket off.
“Crispin, don’t you’ll get a cold.” Of course she was also telling herself it probably wasn’t the brightest move in the world to bring him out in the cold, then again it was also good for his immune system, and he would have to be outside in the summer months or at least have some place out of doors to wallow and cool down. If the elevators were any indicator about the conditions of Hallowsgate’s mechanical conditions, she would need to stake out an outdoor home for her little pet, as she could never know when the air conditioning unit for Rathen house would give out. and while Scooter was handy with his tools, if this ancient heating system gave out her little pet would be in for an awful time. Looking back up at the building as they walked leisurely through the snow Neva felt the corner of the quilt strike her chin as Crispin pushed his snout up and opened the flap fully, “Well, somebody has a bossy little personality.” though before Neva could go on, she heard a bright ‘good afternoon’ from around the corner when she looked up there was a man holding up a goat who was busy nibbling at his blond curls affectionately, she couldn’t help a laugh as she observed them and grinned back. Her arms were far too full to entertain a wave, “Good afternoon to you both!”

Crispin, for his part started to relax a little in Neva’s arms, as he had started to get a little wiggly before, “This si St. Crispin the Baptist, he’s my new pet.” and tilted the bundle to give him a better look and the specked piglet, “he is a piglet but not newborn, Crispin is about eight weeks old. I have his paperwork in my apartment. He’s alternately excited to be out here and he was a little fussy because I’ve been trying to keep him mostly covered from the cold.” and watched her pig sniff at the new human with sedate curiosity, “It’s good to meet you, my name is Neva Valentine. I’m one of the new nurses.” sometimes it was hard to keep up with the number of employees Hallowsgate seemed to go through, just when you thought you had a bead on all employees, a new one would arrive, or someone would leave.

Charles found himself laughing softly at the way the woman talked to the little pig, glad he wasn't the only one who made a habit of doing so - although to be fair, during his darker years he had occasionally gone so far as to convince himself that they actually talked back, which he assumed was a little closer to madness than this woman had ventured. Although they did, in a way; if not to the words, then to the tone of voice, responding with body language and their own unique array of sounds. Patty, he was sure, could hear the affection in his voice when he spoke to her, and gave her answer by snuggling close and bleating softly when he scratched her behind the ear. He smiled a little bemusedly at the piglet's mouthful of a name - he had never heard of pigs being kept as household pets outside of farms or estates, but he had been learning that many things in the world had changed while he'd been away from it - and he looked down at the little spotted creature with bright, curious eyes.

"Is he really? He's quite small for his age." He smiled crookedly. "Endearingly so, I'll admit." He held out a hand to allow Crispin to snuffle the tips of his fingers, not fearing that he'd scare the little thing; even before he'd died animals had seemed to take a shine to him, and since passing it had begun to seem almost uncanny. He knew at least a few of the other ghosts terrified livestock when they even came near - he'd never known why he was different. "Small animals have very rapid heartbeats, I imagine he should be alright to look around a bit, so long as he isn't out long. If he gets too cold, you could give him warm water to drink when you get home." He blinked when she introduced herself, blushing a little when he realized that he himself had forgotten to before beginning to converse; he hadn't had to do it in so long that it had proved difficult to get back in the habit, like so many other basic things. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Valentine. I'm Charles Barker, the stablemaster." Another thing that had been strange for him was adjusting to seeing more and more women amongst the staff, and of varying races as well; he was far too old and kind-hearted to hold on to any of the prejudices his era had bred into him, but the part of him that was still existing in the 1920's looked at her caramel colored skin and experienced a queer surreality, a feeling like he wasn't quite there.

"Actually, I'm new here as well. I was just getting to know my new charges." He hiked the little goat a little further up his chest, finally noticing her lipping at his hair and gently batting at her nose. "This is Patty. I've spoiled her with a few too many treats, and she seems to think my hair is a suitable substitute when I refuse to give her more."

She didn’t quite know her little pig well enough to think he would talk back, but she was convinced he had a personality and a bit of an ego too him, considering how forcefully he smacked her in the chin with the blanket corner, he was going to be a handful as he grew up a little but she liked his personality it meant he was a very self possessed little boy, smart and strong as any. but it suited him and also she learned quickly from her brother Luke who had to wrangle one of his daughters quickly, that Crispin could easily be shortened in to crispy, or worse yet, crispy bacon.

Neva smiled and stroked one of Crispin’s ears affectionately, “He’s the runt of his litter, actually I think he makes up for it in pure force of character and personality.” the speckled piglet was enjoying the attention for his part and gave a soft little snuffle of happiness while he sniffed the man’s fingers curiously he didn’t smell grapes though, which was a pity, Crispin very much liked grapes. Neva listened as Charles gave counsel about what to do if Mr. wiggling piglet got a chill and nodded, later when it wasn’t quite so frigid she would take him out for longer but it seemed like winter has a strong hold on the state and later was still months off. Neva still couldn’t completely get used to winters the actually lasted the entirety of the season, “I will remember that, thank you.” She imagined Crispin wouldn’t care for warm water if he got a chill but then he didn’t care for being all bundled up but there he was. Neva laughed as Patty was raised up and continued to nibble happily on Charles’ curls, “Well it’s a pleasure to meet you both, Mr. Baker, Patty.” and adjusted Crispin in her arms so he could get a better look at Patty, though from his vantage point he likely on saw a rump.

Charles was unfortunately still ahead of some people who were born in the current era, there had been a handful of times in both texas and baltimore where people made the assumption the because of her complexion name and fluency in spanish that Nevaeh was less americ-- not, more less of a person than counterparts of a lighter hue. She was soft hearted enough that something like that might have had a negative and lasting effect if not for her strong support system that taught her people with those ideas were the ones with the problem, not her.

"It's always the little ones, isn't it?" Charles shook his head in mock exasperation, stroking a hand down Patty's back. 'Napoleon Syndrome' was a common condition amongst animals, he had found; the larger the rest of the world was compared to them, the larger their personalities became in order to compensate - one could rarely find a more eccentric creature than a miniature-breed dog or - in this case - a very small pig. Crispin's curious snuffling earned him a soft, lopsided smile from the ghostly stablemaster, and he tickled under the little creature's chin with a quiet laugh; the darling little thing really was quite charming, brazenly independent nature and all. "Think nothing of it; it's what I'm here for." He acknowledged Neva's thanks with a shy smile, chuckling when Patty's wiggled her head around the back of his neck to get a look at their guests, bleating curiously - her bristly chin tickled the nape of his neck, and he returned the favor by gently poking her belly, earning an indignant snort.

"Just Charles is fine, if you like." He offered with a smile; formality had been a thing of great importance between colleagues when he had been alive, but that had been a very long time ago, and his taste for rigid social barriers had eroded with the years. Both his father's teachings and the coda of the military urged professionalism, but in all honesty he would much rather have friends. "I would invite Crispin into the paddock for a playdate, but I suspect some of the larger males might step on him by accident." He laughed ruefully, looking back at the rest of Patty's family and friends, several of which were looking up from their feed to eye them curiously. Their interest never lasted long before they were drawn back to snacking or playing, but the smell of piglet had obviously drawn some interest. "When he's grown a bit bigger he will be most welcome, however. I expect when it starts to get warmer he'll be quite grateful for somewhere to stretch his legs and cool down. West Virginia can be quite humid in the summer." Patty wiggled a little in his arms at the sight of one of her favorite males getting the attention of another doe, and he set her down with a laugh, letting her flounce off to lay claim to her man.

"Have you been settling in alright? Being this far out in the country can be somewhat jarring for those who are unaccustomed to it, I know."