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Old habits died hard, and this one was especially difficult to break. Needle was actually trying to sneak out of her own room, even though she was no longer near the Engraver's Home. She had left a note for Lattice and had done the initial peek into the hall, and once she was satisfied that there was nobody there she had tied the straps of her side bag in front of her and finally let out a slow, calming exhale. Okay. She could do this. She'd done this hundreds of times before!

Step one; hand on the door knob. Okay, good, Step two; slowly turn it until it won't budge. Ah-hah, it made no noise! Next...open the door, SLOWLY! Yes yes, move through the door like you're not being a sneak just in case, and turn to cl---

Needle inhaled sharply, snapping her attention to the figure with tattoos; it sent up warning flags and every inch of her body tensed. Someone was there! She saw their tattoos out of the corner of her eye and oh jack she was busted! ...Wait... Tattoos, yes. But only the one. On a tall figure with funny head spikes. Well, she felt stupid. The ghoul exhaled in amusement, leaning forward to drop her forehead against the door that was still being held open.

"Hello, Petro." She said with an embarrassed chuckle, muffled against the door and through her hair.

The tikbalang recently had a rather... interesting detention with Lunchlady Ginger. It certainly left a very deep impression on him. While Petro took pride in his ability to roast, grill, and barbecue all sorts of things (he could also make a decent stew), he had to admit he was a complete disaster in baking. Which was why he joined the Baking Club to hopefully improve his craft. Or at least just enough that when thieving gnomes fancied his secret experiments and went and ate them, he wouldn't risk poisoning them. Not that he actually felt guilt for having done that. As far as he was concerned they jacking deserved it.

At the moment, there hasn't been any announcement for the Club's activities and for that he's glad. He'd just been through a series of spars and there was Bruteball as well as Fitness Club activities. As much as he enjoyed keeping active, the tikbalang needed some down time. Normally it meant resting in his dorm room or in some comfortable location underneath a tree. But after his session with Ginger, Tro realized he needed to get himself a couple of things at the Maul.

On his walk, he couldn't help but pass by the ghost dormitories and it occurred to him that perhaps the Engraver sisters might have some errands he could run for them along the way. He wasn't certain whether they were in their rooms but he figured why not? He turned around the corner and was surprised to find Needle at her door. Oh. Was she just heading out or was she going back in?

"Hey there, Needle, y' doing anything right now?" Tro certainly didn't waste any time with small talk, did he?

Needle quickly recovered from her self-inflicted headbutt to the door, lifting her head from the wood to look at the Tikbalang. When he got her name right she smiled, straightening up and taking her hand off of the door handle. He was...rather to the point, wasn't he? Though she did have to wonder what he wanted that didn't involve Lattice as well, she was happier with the fact that it didn't involve Lattice. She hadn't had just-Petro time yet, and she was sure that Lattice had lots of it! She needed to catch up!

"No." He was being blunt, so she would be too! "Is there something I could help you with?" Getting out of her room was always the best time of the day! Getting out of her room with Petro would probably be even more fun! Besides, she wanted to get to know him better, since she did more-or-less blindly put her faith in him.

The ghoul, who was getting more versed in this whole chivalry thing, noticed the arm only after she shifted her weight, which prompted a better view of the arm he had extended. "Oh." She'd breathed out, mostly to herself, and gave a smile on her way towards him, laying her arm mostly flat against his, her hand on his wrist. It was much easier this way, nobody got poked!

"Ah...A habit, I apologize." Needle's small smile grew, turning her head to show she actually was looking at him, instead of just moving her eyes as she generally did. "At home I am somewhat of a...oh, how did they put it..." Her free hand lifted to tap lightly at her bottom lip, the movement altogether fairly awkward due to having to hold her arm out a bit to prevent poking herself. She thought back to the whispers she had overheard, usually after she did something 'terrible'. "Ah yes, 'Wild child'." She finished with a little chuckle. There was an edge to her voice that was mostly sarcasm, since she never believed she had actually done anything wrong.

"So, what is on the agenda today? May I inquire as to what you need at the Maul?" Now she seemed interested, allowing him to lead her and putting her trust in him; he wouldn't let anything happen, she was sure of it! He had protected them back at the Festival, after all!

Petro most certainly appreciated not being poked. Especially with sharp spikes. Even if they came from a ghoul. Rather than think about said spikes, Tro decided noting the light touch of Needle's hand on his wrist was a better point of focus. "A wild child, eh? 'S nothing to say sorry for. Ain't nothing wrong with having a little more spirit'n the rest," he grinned, not realizing the difference in perspective the Engraver Clan might have with his Tikbalang Clan.

Of course there were instances where one had to curb their eagerness and enthusiasm, but those had to be learned the hard way through the school of hard knocks. Usually applied liberally to the head.

"Just some stuff for baking," he answered as he carefully led Needle down the hall towards the ghost dorm's lobby. There was a crinkle of paper as Tro produced (from a place best left unasked) a list with his other hand. "Like an "easier" recipe book and an apron. Dunno what's an "easier" recipe book is gonna be like, though." At this, his mouth pulled into a frown.

Petro's words were touching; there was nothing wrong with it? Really? Aside from Lattice...she had never heard that from anyone before! A touched smile graced her lips and she gave his wrist a little squeeze. "You are the first." She informed him, still smiling. "I appreciate that, thank you." This boil was getting further and further into her good graces!

...Wait. Did he just...

"...Baking?" Needle all but gasped out in surprise, not entirely sure that she had heard him correctly. Apparently hearing baking of all things from the boil made her forget - or perhaps just not notice - about the sudden appearance of paper. "Is this to be a new hobby? I assume you have baked before?" Everything she said seemed almost on the verge of giggling, but she managed, probably thanks to her years of practice, to keep it down.

She was starting to become aware of the paper; it was tilted oddly so she didn't see if there was ink, but she could hear it crinkling and his body language suggested he was holding something. Realization and curiousity was setting in, but her main concern was his baking thing.

Needle's lips pursed the slightest bit, wondering how to formulate her next set of words. To her, baking seemed more of a feminine homebody thing; not that gender had anything to do with it, it was just that the only times home baked products made it into the Engraver's home, it was brought by bubbly women or young children saying their Mothers baked it. Sure there were males who brought them, but they were few and far between; there were more males bringing them smoked meat or fresh kills. The same went for those who travelled to see their clan, and who spent an extended amount of time in their guest halls or on their land. Now, how to word this as to not offend...

"Baking...is more of an indoor...thing." She started lamely, only lifting her eyes to look at him so alas, it was near impossible to tell. "You strike me as an outdoorsy, smoked meat boil." It was as close as she could get without offending, she hoped. But it didn't seem easy to offend Petro so far! "I just can not imagine you in a kitchen." She admitted sheepishly, an almost embarrassed tinge of a blush appearing on her pale cheeks.

"Of course! I would be more than happy to assist you, I am lead to believe that is what friends do." From all she knew about friendship, it was pretty much like having a beloved sibling without the FEAR ties. Strikingly similar, really. "I will keep that in mind." But she would likely not take him up on his offer, somehow she felt guilty about gifts. Petro's energy was intoxicating, and Needle was practically wiggling in her skin...minus any hint of actual wiggling. "This is exciting! Oh! But...what is a pandesal...?"

Tro, completely unaware of the Engraver ghoul's cultural background and experiences, continued to stare at her. "Indoor thing?" he echoed, blinking as he spoke each word. He considered how all the ovens he'd seen in Amityville Academy were in kitchens and buildings and there were very few outdoor ovens. Perhaps Needle's Clan had the same sort of setup? "I do like the outdoors, but when we make pandesal, 's usually baked in an oven we call pugon that's outdoors. 'S a kinda bread, fits in y'r hands and the dough 's rolled in breadcrumbs before it's baked. Can't seem to make the dough right, though," he sighed with mild dejection.

His mood perked up at Needle's confirmation that they were friends. "Yeah, 's part of it. Least 's what 'm taught." They'd reach the Ghost Dorm's entrance at this point, "Y' gotta be honest with me when y' taste what I make. Ain't gonna do me any good if what I made's awful and y' don't tell me. Ain't gonna improve that way." It was one of the things he'd discovered here in school. A lot of the students tended to sugar coat their thoughts and opinions and it made Tro less able to do anything to rectify the situation. He really hoped it wouldn't be so with the sisters as the horse boil valued the opinion of those he considered members of his herd.

"Yes, an indoor thing." Needle confirmed. "However I associate sweets with baking, perhaps that is the key difference?" The ghoul looked thoughtful, tilting her head and pondering the implications. This all ended at the obvious dejection in his voice, and the hand that was on his wrist gave a little, hopefully reassuring squeeze. "You will." Was all she said, the ghost of a smile on her lips.

"You will have nothing but my brutal honesty, I assure you." She even went as far as to cross her heart, making each stroke quite pronounced. Sure it wasn't anything like a true promise, but to give a true promise as dictated by her clan she would have to release him, and that just wasn't something she wanted to do, especially with how new she was to the school grounds.

"Pardon my curiousity, but I have been wondering...those spikes on your head, is it hair, or does your kind have horns?" Her head was tilted up to make it obvious she was looking at him, which meant she had all the faith in the world that Petro would not let her walk into or trip over anything.

...Petro changed the subject. Petro changed the subject. Who did he think she was?! Someone who just let something that interesting go without a second thought?! HAH. The boil had another think coming! "Why is i----AAAH!" As she shuffled to catch up, her foot caught on the floor length hakama she wore. In her attempt to keep from falling, she hugged his arm with both of hers, clinging as best as she could given her situation.

Uhh.

Whoops.

She made herself a new pincushion, apparently.

"I AM SO SORRY!" She cried out in a panic, already trying to untangle herself from him. It wasn't happening any time soon.

Damn straight Tro changed the subject. Since he could not lie his way out of the situation, the best measure of defense was to take himself out of the situation. Unfortunately, it seemed Needle was just as tenacious as the horse boil and didn't seem to want to take the bait of the other topic.

He steeled himself for more questions when he felt her weight shift. Brown eyes widened as instincts demanded for the horse boil to position himself to catch the ghoul. Normally he wouldn't have thought twice when he felt someone's weight bear down on his arm. Except this particular someone had spikes in their arms.

Sharp, long spikes that he had felt in his back not too long ago. Well, looks like he was going to have a new set of scars on his arm to match. Again he ground his teeth, the veins in his neck bulging as he refrained from crying out.

"'S alright, Needle," he assured her through grit teeth, "Just. Hold. Still," he instructed, his free arm reaching out to rest a hand on her shoulder.

At his urging, Needle stayed still, halting every attempt she was making to free herself. Oh Jack, she really got herself stuck, didn't she?

"I am sorry..." She said again, this time much quieter. The pressure of his hand was noted, but she did not flinch or pull away. Petro instructed her to hold still, and she would. She would be the best statue that ever...err, statued? Either way, no moving. "This is the second time I have gotten stuck in a boil." She tried to jest instead, offering a weak smile up at his face - well, his tattoos, but his face.