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James Williams

"Go away and mind your own business..."

0 · 406 views · located in Victorian England

a character in “Black Butler, and The Rozen Maiden”, as played by Gladis

Description

Name:
James Williams

Age:
17

Gender:
Male

Personality:
James has trouble showing his feelings like most people can comprehend, although he does absolutely have feelings. He is especially fond of beautiful things, being an artist. His art is usually a combination between beautiful items and macabre scenes, or visa versa. Like he has trouble showing his own feelings, he had trouble understanding things such as irony or in some cases even jokes. He hates being too close to other people, or getting touched. It is not always for particular reasons, it just lies in his personality.

Is he/she a medium or has he/she made a deal with a demon?:
No

Canon/Non Canon?:
Non Canon

Appearance Description:
James has messy ebony hair and pale blue- almost purple, eyes. His complexion his fair, he is rather average in hight and lean in body figure. Usually he wears simple colored and ragged clothing, as that is all he has. He wears a small silver earing pierced through his right ear, which is the only kind of luxury he possesses. It was given to him when he was a child. He has several permanent scars across his body, though most of them are kept hidden by his clothes.

Social Class/Title:

Lower Class

Bio/History:
James grew up alone with his mother, who became a widow shortly before she was going to give birth to her son. He was murdered by a mysterious killer, and it is unknown still today who did it. His mother was a kind woman, and although she was still grieving her husbands death for quite a while, she did her best to take care of her son. They didn't have a lot of money, and she worked hard in any way she could to make it possibly for her son to live a happy life. And a happy life he had, until his mother fell ill as a result of her profession. She never told him how she earned her money, since he was so young, but later on he did get his suspicions.
She died when he was seven, and ever since then, he has lived on the street and cared for himself.
Or well, an older boy who was also living on the streets helped him the first few years. They became more than friends, the two were like brothers. They loved one another dearly, and they shared everything they had. However, eventually Micah passed away too. Or at least that is what James thinks. Micah simply vanished one day and James never saw him again. At the time he was twelve.
It is ironic that a year later, James was taken in by a secret male brothel. Isn't it ironic that he is now in the same profession his mother once was in? Only, he would give everything to simply just leave... but once you get trapped in something, it is not always so easy to find your way out.

Picture:

Image

So begins...

James Williams's Story

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#, as written by Gladis
James walked along the street, feeling tired and even somewhat ill. He was clutching his hurting arm, feeling blood seep between his fingers and drip onto the ground. He was glad that this early in the morning, hardly anyone was up, and there wasn't as much of a chance that he would bump into anyone. Silly questions he surly had neither time nor patience for.
Suddenly he could feel something wet and tiny but almost sharp drop into with his nose, quickly followed by another and another. He glanced up at the gray morning sky and cursed. Suddenly the rain was pouring down all over him. Glancing around quickly, James started sprinting until he reached what looked like an abandoned house. Without thinking he pulled the door open and slipped inside, quickly shutting the door behind him. For a moment he relaxed. At least it was relatively dry in there... but instead of being drenched by rain, he was now engulfed by complete darkness.
"Damn it," he muttered, "I can't see a bloody thing!"
James was so obsessed with trying to find his tinderbox in his pocket, that he didn't even know he was crying. Before he realized what had happened, he was sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall, clutching his injured arm once more as soft and quiet sobs escaped his lips. What did he always have to be so rough? he wondered. Everything hurt, and all James wished for right then was a warm bed and a roof above his head. Well, at least he had the latter now, but th squeaking of rats which came from the darkness surrounding him was unnerving, nonetheless.
"Stop crying," he whispered to himself, "you're not a little baby anymore," he started wiping his eyes with his alright hand and then finally pulled out the tinderbox, carefully lighting it. Curiously he glanced around, reflections of the small flame dancing in his pale blue eyes.
There was nothing special about the shack, really. Well, aside from the few ruined pieces of furniture here and there; a green sofa, where the fabric had faded so much, it was almost impossible to make it out, and it was full with holes. The walls were made out of old, rotting wood, and the only window was broken. In one corner a small wardrobe was standing, in another something that reminded of a bookshelf was located. However, instead of books it was full with empty (and some half full) bottles of liquor. More empty liquor bottles were spread out across the floor, and some mysterious and somewhat suspicious boxes were located here and there.
James could indeed see the red eyes of rats cowering in the dark spots the light of his tinderbox could not reach.
He sighed.
"Well, I do think I've had it worse before..." he let the flame provided by the tinderbox die before stashing it back into his pocket and curling up on the floor, shutting his eyes.

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#, as written by Gladis
"Once upon a time," a soft voice spoke as the sound of footsteps echoed through the room. James eyes fluttered open and were met by a soft and loving smile and eyes as pale blue as his, filled with adoration and affection. She placed down the candle beside my. Then she seated herself at the edge of it, next to me, "there was a doll maker named Rozen."
"Mister Rozen, you see, wished to obtain the perfect child. However, the perfect child did exist no where else than within Mr. Rozen's mind. People laughed at his ideas, called him crazy. Even so, he did not give up. He would obtain Alice, no matter what. Some people told him to stop, told him that perusing such impossible dreams would dive him mad at last... but Mr. Rozen refused to listen."
James listened intently to his mothers words, snuggling up in his covers and soft bed.
"What happened then?" the child asked in a soft voice. His mother smiled, reaching out her pale hand and gently ruffling his dark hair. He couldn't held but laugh as his mother ruffled his hair, but then he carefully tried to shove her hand away," stop it!" he said, quickly trying to straighten it, "it tickles and my hair becomes messy!" yet, besides his statement he was giggling happily like only a child can.
"Be patient, son, and you'll see," she replied gently, giving a soft laugh, "and very well, I shall try to remember not to mess up your hair, my sweet," she said gently, waiting for him to calm down before she would continue with the story.
Little James nodded his head and yawned widely before settling back down and making himself ready to continue listening to the story. He liked listening to stories. His mother would tell him one every night before he was going to sleep, and he loved it. For even when he knew she would usually disappear at night, the story and memory of her voice and touch remained a great comfort.
"Anyways," she started, "people thought he was insane, until one day he had created a set of seven dolls. Each one of them looked more alive than any other doll ever crafted before. They felt alive when you touched them. They sounded alive and even looked alive as they moved. And yet... they were nothing more but dolls. Oh yes, they were indeed ordinary dolls to the core, but there was something that..."


...

James was running through the corridor, his bare feet thudding gently against the floor and his night attire fluttering slightly as he ran. Big, round tears were rolling down his cheeks and he was tightly knotting his fist.
"Mommy," the little child whispered in a choked voice, "why?! Why?!" he burst out sobbing once more, but continued running nonetheless. He ran, just like his mother had made him promise to do, as she lay on her death bed.

"Run," she had said, tenderly placing her hand on her sons cheek, stroking it carefully, "run before they find me here, because if they do, I can do nothing to stop them from taking you. You have to run, run to grandma, if you can. She'll take care of you," she had smiled at him weakly, a farewell for sure. But James had not understood, being so young. He didn't understand why he had to leave her when she was looking so weak.
"B-but...why?" he asked tearfully, tugging at her arm, "I don't want to leave you!" James sniffed.
His mother remained smiling weakly as she reached out her hand and weakly ruffled his hair, before starting to cough violently.
"Please, James," he had asked in a hoarse voice, looking at her son pleadingly, "I...beg... of you... you will n-never be alone...remember...that..." she had whispered, letting her hand slump back down to her side, "I'll always be with you...love...you..." she took a few last, shuddering breaths... and then everything went so quiet, so still.

James shoved the back door open and stumbled out into the night, glancing around wearily. In which direction was the house of his grandmother now again? Frowning and wiping his tears he struggled feebly to remember.
Then suddenly a strong hand gripped his arm.
James automatically turned his head up to look, his heart fluttering like a little bird in his chest, his big eyes filled with fear.
"Hello there, little boy," the man said with an evil smile.


...

"No!" he screamed.
James's eyes snapped open, his heart fluttering in his chest like it had done back then. He sat up in an instant and glanced around in bewilderment, his eyes wide and filled with confusion and fear. First after a while he noticed that there was no bed beneath him, no warm sheets, no candle light to give him comfort. There was no mother there to tell him stories, no smiles to warm his heart or hands to ruffle his hair. Neither was there a cold summer night where he was standing in the middle of the street, the stars high and bright on the midnight sky. They had been twinkling, smiling down at him. It had been such a beautiful, yet terrible night. He shuddered at the memories as he glanced at the sky. Surly it wasn't night anymore, and besides that, it was storming outside. Neither was he five anymore.
Deciding there was no use in still trying to sleep, he stood up and brushed his clothes into place. Then he quickly ran his fingers through his hair in hopes to straighten it. Out of all the things he missed the most, it probably was a proper hairbrush. He would never be able to get out the tangles by simply using his fingers.
Sighing glumly, James started glancing through the shack. There had to be something in there to eat, no? Or maybe it had been abandoned for so long, there wasn't anything. It didn't look like it had been abandoned for too long, though. It simply looked like the person living in this place hadn't taken care of it very good.
First after scanning through the room when he actually could see something, with help of the light provided through the broken windows, James noticed a door on in of the short sided walls. Curiosity simply got the better of him, and he started walking towards it with a blank expression. Even if it was curiosity and maybe a tiny bit of hunger that drove him, he wouldn't let it show.
He placed his hand on the doorknob and started to turn it. The door gave a slight creaking protest as reply, and for a moment it seemed like it was look like he wouldn't be able to open it... until it suddenly swung open.

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Character Portrait: James Williams Character Portrait: Veronica Vuples
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The time had finally arrived after years of waiting the old man was finally breathing his last breaths. Veronica licked her dry lips watching the man's chest begin starting to decrease in rhythm. The young prostitute's hands shook as she realized the fact that her supposed client was dying...but why bring her? As a final witness to his death and maybe to comfort his companion? Her face paled as she thought she saw the daughter's eyes turn red and cat-like for a moment, shaking her head wearily she blamed her fatigue messing with her vision. She blinked for a second and then opened her eyes to a very dangerous predicament..a cloth soaked in chloroform was covering her mouth..her vision blurred as the drug began to take affect. Phillip's tried eyes widened in shock as the young girl slumped over in her seat..what was the meaning of this?


Veronica merely smirked and removed her gloves revealing her sign of a Contract..a crescent moon. She gently unbuttoned her 'father's' shirt revealing an identical mark over his heart. She would never forget how sentimental this bloody fool was. With a quiet voice she said "I have fulfilled my Contract; to be the replacement of your beloved dead daughter until your dying day. Now it is time to uphold yours Father" The word father was spat like a bitter herb still lingering in ones mouth..never again would she agree to play this role ever. Phillip placed a grimy hand over Veronica's and had one final request "Make it as painless as possible..for an old man's sake..". Veronica merely smiled ever so slightly before placing her lips on the man's throat..gently coaxing his soul out of his body. The man spasmed in pain for a moment and then lay still..dead as a doornail. Wiping her lips gingerly with a clean cloth, she watched his mark fade away and sighed in contentment..his soul was hers finally. She eyed the small bottle of chloroform still sitting on the seat and casually tipped it over with black nail..the fluid soaked the floor...one final step. She took out a letter from her skirt pocket and placed it by the unconscious stand-in before placing the letter in the girl's pocket..a heartfelt suicide note a loving daughter who couldn't bear to go on without her father..taking out the cigarette lighter she set the fluid aflame watching it for a moment before casually exiting the coach. The coachmen was gone possibly off spending his bribed money to look the other way when the coach would be set alight..the horses however were still needed..poor things would hopefully only get slightly ashy. The sound of glass windows shattering filled the air as the heat inside broke the fragile interior..it seemed to be almost crackling merrily. Veronica merely gave one final curtsey before shedding her role as Veronica Fieres...now Veronica Vulpes was truly alive again. Her long silver blonde hair faded into that of a short shoulder length style and cool green eyes changed crimson...it was wonderful to be free again.


As the horses began screaming in fear she took that opportunity to slip away..her black boots clicked along the cobblestone as she enjoyed the morning air. A demoness she may be, yet did always enjoy cool mornings like this one despite the fact the scent of smoke was in the air. Her stroll was interrupted as a door was swung open revealing a young male human...positively reeking of sorrow and despair..she unconsciously licked her lips as she merely stared at the boy. To reveal ones true nature to mortals generally resulted in someone dying or being calmly let go after being scarred for life..she hoped the boy would be smart about his choice.. She gently smoothed out her corset and eyed the boy.

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Character Portrait: James Williams Character Portrait: Veronica Vuples
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#, as written by Gladis
James blinked in shock at the sight of the woman. He hadn't expected to find anyone standing there at all. She was quite beautiful, he thought, with her silver blond hair and green eyes. However, there was also something greatly unnerving about her. James wasn't entirely sure what made him feel like he should get out of there as quickly as possible, and yet, at the same time it felt like his feet were glued to the ground. It took him only a few seconds to regain control of himself again, and yet it felt like hours.
"Excuse me, m'lady... I didn't expect anyone would be here," he finally said, his voice as well as his expression devoid of emotion. He didn't like talking to people in the first place, so whenever he ended up in situations like these he simply chose to keep it all as plain as possible. It was also a way of shielding himself from the world outside, and to keep his thoughts and pain within locked within himself. "I hope I haven't troubled you," he concluded, bowing ever so slightly.

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Character Portrait: James Williams Character Portrait: Veronica Vuples
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#, as written by Gladis
James automatically took a step back, his eyes widening as her eyes changed color. Then he blinked in confusion. Had he just imagined it? It was most likely, James was sure. He was so tired, he was probably seeing things. Even so, just the thought was unerring enough. There was something about the way she spoke, that alluring power in it... he suddenly felt so tempted to simply break down right there and cry, telling her everything about his troubles.
But he didn't.
Instead he let his expression return to that emotionless state. His pale blue eyes seemed to become even paler, emptier, and his features straight and simple. It was all a mask. James had been good at learning how to forge one, no matter which kind; if it was a smile or a glare, if it was a grin or nothing... masks were part of his shield.
"I have no idea what you are talking about, m'lady," he replied with the slightest hint of coldness in his voice, yet other than that he kept it polite and plain.

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Veronica's smirk widened as she came even closer to the boy only about two feet away now. ~It seems humans are improving as liars..how wonderful~ she thought as she ran her black nail over her mark..it was cold now absent from any type of feeling of a human heart. She traced the crescent moon with her middle tip almost as if she was debating on changing it. She merely flashed the boy a smile "Fine, keep telling yourself that boy...". She sighed in irritation and muttered under her breath "Humans are always such stubborn creatures...although that is what makes the game fun I suppose..".


"So if you aren't troubled then why is it you are out here in this storm? Don't tell me some bullshit lie about how you enjoy the rain. You are going to have to become a better liar than that...". Her smile faded slightly as she felt the moisture from the rain soak into her clothes..~Damn...now I am going to have to replace these rags...~ she thought as she brushed a wet hair out of her face.Her eyes flashed red for a moment as her temper flared and then faded like a flash of sunlight in a window pane.

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#, as written by Gladis
James watched the woman with a straight face, remaining fully silent for quite a while before he spoke again, tilting his head. He didn't like her being so close to him, he didn't like it at all, but he wasn't going to show that it actually bothered him. The tiniest of smiled flicked across his lips and he reached out his hand towards her, so that it almost touched her cheek... but it didn't, because right before it would have brushed against her fair skin, he withdrew it and let it fall back to his side. He could barely make out what she muttered to herself, but the word 'humans' caught his attention.

"You are excluding yourself by calling me a human, how is that so?" he asked calmly, "are you trying to tell me you are not human?" his tiny smile widened a little.James paused as her eyes flashed red again. This time he was sure they had changed color, "your eyes," he continued, "they are quite beautiful... very interesting, don't you think? It seems they have the ability to change color. And it seems you have quite a temper too," he smiled, although there was no happiness in it.

"If you now absolutely must know, m'lady... I have nowhere else to go. I live on the streets, I earn money through whatever means necessary, to survive," he continued, his voice remaining calm and formal. Subconsciously his right hand slid up along his left arm and to the wound which had been been caused by a knife or dagger, "don't we all do everything to survive, m'lady? Thing is, it can be quite troublesome at times. Many give up along the way..."

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Veronica's eyes widened as felt the warmth from his hand nearly touch her cheek, her smirk vanished as she watched his smile grow..what an interesting human she had run across. Her grin returned although a bit more feral than any normal human would have "If I were telling you I wasn't human I doubt you would believe me...". Her eyes changed crimson and remained as such why keep up a ruse when she had been called out on it, she ran a hand through her shortened hair and said sweetly "My temper is none of your concern boy...just hope I don't lose it in front of you...". Her grin widened as she heard his comment of human's giving up along the way...


With a sudden burst of speed she was behind James and her nails idly drumming along the boy's jugular..~What to do what to do...this human is interesting enough, but do I really wish to bound to such a brat of a human?~ she thought as ran her free hand along the boy's injured arm..blood staining her palm and whispered in his ear "Yes, people do give up along the way can you imagine the scavengers that feed upon the humans full of despair, not even their faith can save them from that darkness.." . Her voice became quieter as she asked "Any guesses what might be lurking in the darkness? I can sense your own despair, it is rather enticing..". Her grip on the boy's throat tightened ever so slightly as she whispered "The despair you feel as you feel your body being defiled like some toy...so like your mother did before you...she was a fighter at least.."

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#, as written by Gladis
He froze as she suddenly was behind him, her hand on his throat. He forced himself to remain calm, at least on the outside, although he doubted that would help him anyways. After all, the woman really seemed to be more than a human. What if she could read thoughts? The horror! James thought as he felt his heart race in his chest. He was filled with fear, and yet he managed to still look confident. His hand flew up to his throat, grasping hold of her hand. "Let go of me," he said slowly, in a chilling voice. At her comment about his mother, he looked utterly shocked for a moment. All his confidence seeped out of him and a haunted look settled across his face, shone bright in his eyes.

"What are you?" he asked in a whisper, clutching her hand in his and trying to prey it away from his throat, "how do you know? No one is supposed to know," he pulled harder at her hand, starting to shake slightly, "I-I'm not a toy, I'm not a toy," James stuttered out, his voice quavering slightly. He wasn't entirely sure whether he was addressing her or himself at that point. A shiver radiated through him as she ran her hand across his wound and he winced slightly in pain. Then, suddenly, a soft laugh escaped his lips. "Let me go," he repeated, this time in a softer voice, "it burns..."

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A small chuckle escaped Veronica's lips as she released the boy from her grasp, practically shoving the boy away from her. As she listen to his voice tremble her smirk grew as she revealed her sign..for a moment both her eyes and the symbol glowed a faint red as she whispered "Can you connect this symbol on my hand to an ancient legend featuring a character named Faust. Surely even you as a child understood the moral of that story..". She licked the blood from her palm, her eyes glowing for a moment, the temptation to just take the boy's soul was strong..


Her head cocked to the side as she saw the haunted look on the boy's face before stating "Your darling mother was one of my previous Contracts. Her only objective for myself was to ensure the welfare of her beloved son, that's you as long as she breathed. Not exactly the smartest of humans I came across but I supposed she sold her soul as an act of love...a bit pathetic really." She sighed and ran a hand through her damp hair before continuing "Yet, when she fell ill and to put it bluntly on death's door I received my payment and went on my merry way, then I am assuming your mortal hellhole of a life began to begin. I wonder what it was like for you..to have such a happy and warm childhood only to have your life shatter before your eyes, it must of been heartbreaking."

She paused licking her dry lips, it was like fishing for her..give the fish bait they want and wait for them to bite..eventually she would reel them in. "If I were your mother, my wishes would of been much more grand, such a tear apart the men who had violated her as her profession dictated, maybe even kill off their entire family line just in case there was a singular bad apple left and provide a better standard of living for the two of you.Alas, a mother's love for her child is ever blinded by it."


She shrugged as she stared the boy's bleeding arm before snapping her fingers "A interesting idea came to my mind, you wish to get revenge on those who wronged you yes? I am assuming powerful men and woman who just used you for entertainment...to be their pretty little doll for the evening. Perhaps I could assist you accomplishing a few of your dreams..unless your dream was to remain a street urchin all your life..". Her smirk grew as she whispered "All you have to do is pay me that one thing you know my kind craves..lusts after even"..

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#, as written by Gladis
James stumbled forwards out into the rain as she she shoved him away from her, making him trip over and fall onto his knees. He turned his head and gazed up at her silently, still shaking ever so slightly. His eyes widened as she revealed her sign and her eyes started glowing. Indeed he understood. So she was a demon. How wonderful, he thought sarcastically. The rain poured down over him, soaking his hair and clothes. In fact, after only a short moment he felt like he was soaked to the bone. Though shivering with cold now, rather than shaking with emotion, he forced himself to stand up and brush to mucky dirt off his clothes. However, soon he realized he shouldn't have bothered. At the mention of his mother his pale blue eyes grew even wider and he started at the demoness in shock. He almost fell to the floor again.

"She did what?!" James narrowed her eyes and clenched his fists, "I-I... you're a demon," he continued coldly, his expression turning into a deathly glare, "you're a demon. How can I believe what you say is true?" he placed his hand over his wound again and swayed slightly on his feet, "how do I know you aren't lying?" his voice was hoarse, filled with rage and sorrow, "d-don't...you...she..." he clutched his arm tightly and stared at the ground, looking deathly pale. James didn't want to admit it, but it did sound like something his mother would have done, simply out of pure love to him and her dead husband. She would never have wished anyone dead, but she would have wished safety for her son.

However, James was different.

At the mention of a deal James tore his gaze from the street and looked back up at her, his breath heavy and rage still glittering in his eyes.
"How do you da-" he stopped himself from screaming anything more and his eyes went even wider. If what she said was true, he could take revenge on those who had wronged him, those who had wronged his mother and he could... something strange flickered through his eyes and his lips started to curl up in a smile. First it was a small smile, but the more time passed and the more thoughts flitted through his mind, his smile grew.

"The world is rotting," he whispered, clutching his arm tighter, although it caused him more pain. He didn't care. He was beyond pain right then, "just look around you, you'll see. But most people are blind, they do not see. The people are rotten," A weak laugh escaped his lips. It was high pitched and ever so slightly crazed, "could I wish death upon every rotten soul in England?" he asked, staring her right in the eyes, "could I wish to purge this world of all those who abuse and violate others?" he paused, calming down slightly, "or would that be too much?" he finished softly.

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Veronica merely smirked as if she was able to watch the cogs of the boy's mind turn like clockwork, slowly piecing together the puzzle of his life. At the mention of her being a demoness she merely nodded "As a demon, there are a few of us that guide ourselves by a code of rules, fortunately for you one of my rules is that I do not ever lie, no matter how painful or horrible the truth may be. That is unless I have been given an order to lie freely to anyone but my Contracter..". Her smirk grew as she listened to the rage-filled tirade of a boy so obviously wounded by the cruel mortals of the world. Perhaps she should of not of pushed so far, a laugh escaped her lips, who was she kidding this was the most interesting night she had in years...well aside from the damn rain.


Her eyes widened as she listened to his request, interesting enough..then if this went through it would a lengthy Contract indeed years on end perhaps. The words "the world is rotting" made her mood lift even more, it was true of course there would always be that one spark of hope..eventually stamped out by others. She put her finger to her lips thinking for a moment before purring "Every rotten soul in England you say? That would be a heavy blow to the population, no soul is ever truly pure...however it would be obtainable. As for your second wish...that is also obtainable, yet it would take years on end. Your hands would be stained with the blood of those you set your sights on..familys blissfully unaware would be ruined. Noblemen stripped of their titles...estates burnt to the ground...children weeping over their loved ones corpses...as I said your wishes would be possible if you had the patience...". She stopped before giving the boy a small curtsey and asked softly " Do you wish to form a Contract? Forever sealing your fate..."...

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#, as written by Gladis
James watched her wearily from where he was standing. "Don't you think a liar would say he never lies?" he said, his smooth as he smiled thinly, "but I guess I will have no choice but to believe what you say is true. Either way I believe I will have to notice soon enough," his smile fell and he turned serious. A blinding lighting lit up the sky, closely followed by the ear deafening sound of thunders. He glanced up, not being able to help but to feel slightly nervous about standing out there when the thunder was so close. The rain increased and whipped against his face almost painfully.

James started to laugh again as she answered, staring at his hands. His hands would be blood stained, with the beautiful colors of red. With the blood of those who brought this world into chaos. Of course, this way he would be almost as bad as them, but that would also be fixed. Since he sold his soul to her, when his goal was accomplished, he would die. That way total justice would have been dealt. "I know," he said, "I know not everyone is pure. I know I cannot expect everyone who has ever done anything bad in this world to vanish," he laughed softly, "if I killed everyone who had done something bad at all in their life, there would be no one left in this world. However, those who purposely inflict harm on others, or treat each other ignorantly... those are the ones I wish to purge," he smiled crazily, "I have the patience," he said, his voice and expression softening again.

"If I agree to form a contract," he said with a solemn expression, "You will give me the power I need to accomplish my ultimate goal? You will never lie to me and you will never betray me?"

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Veronica merely shrank to her knees, her dress hitting the dirty pavement as she bowed her head to the boy, or was it to hide the laughter shaking her body as she listened to the boy condemn his own soul...humans were such self-righteous creatures, constantly trying to make things right. Her hair soaked fell in her face she merely smile at the boy at the mention of those that would fall to his wrath. Ignorance is bliss as humans would say, would this boy be able to stand the lives he would ruin, the screams of the dead that would ring in his ears and haunt his nightmares. Who would be there to whisper words of comfort in his ears, promise that everything would be able right...humans are fragile creatures.

"Patience is a virtue as you humans say...let's see if you can have the patience beyond your years. She said quietly and brushed her hair out of her face "I will give you anything you ask for..just give me a direct yes or no..I am a demoness of my word I shall never betray or lie to my Master..unless directly ordered to do so. So human, name the placement on your Mark...your mind seems to be ruled by your heart why not place it there...Unless you wish it to be another place? I recommend somewhere that can be concealed by clothing as it seems humans still have the habit of burning anything deemed unholy..". Her eyes glowed as she felt her Mark glow with anticipation of Marking another..so soon..it would be worth it.

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#, as written by Gladis
Ignoring the rain, ignoring the thunder, ignoring the pain in his left arm, James nodded his head. He was satisfied by her reply. Even if he threw his life away, even if he threw his soul away... if he didn't do this, then what else would he do? Would he remain on the streets the rest of his life? Would he continue letting people trample on him and others however much they wanted? Would he continue being a doll, a toy? It was not the fate he wished for. Then he might as well make something useful of the years he had, no? Or at least those were the things he was telling himself as he slowly began unbuttoning his shirt. It clung to his body plastered to his body as if it had been glued on to him. Still, it had provided some kind of warmth, and when he pulled away the gray fabric from his chest, he could feel a slight chill surge through his body.

"Then I agree to form a contract," he said calmly, a strange look lingering in his pale blue eyes. Strains of his ebony hair were falling into his face, some almost covering his left eye, "place it on my chest," James said, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. He was sure of his decision, there wasn't even the slightest hint of doubt in his eyes. Finally the world would see true justice; all those who destroyed, all those who tormented... would fall to his wrath.

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The rain and thunder merely added to the mystique of the entire night. A demon off her leash, drained her Master and murdered a whore and left the corpses to burn in a coach. How poetic that she would end up on a leash so soon, then again it was better than being consistently hunted by Reapers. Annoying little bastards they were most of the time. She slowly approached the boy...no her Master before staring at him in the eyes, why was it that she was cursed with such a short height. Her eyes glowed as she traced the scars on her Master's chest..never would she allow another blow fall on him, unless he wished it to be so.


She withdrew a tube of lipstick coating her lips with it before eyeing her Master carefully "This may hurt, just a tad so don't worry if you feel like your being branded...it's just a precaution..". With that being said she gently placed her lips to his chest..ink slowly began forming on the boy's chest..the scent of charred flesh filled the air. The shape of a crescent moon slowly began forming as blood began running down the wound...After what seemed like hours of time Veronica withdrew licking her lips clean of blood...it was done. Her eyes returned to a calm green as she sank to her knees in a low curtsey as stared up at the boy..now her Master..a smirk on her lips "I am afraid I never properly introduced myself sir, I am Veronica Vulpes..unless you wish to change it..it has no value to me..". It would be interesting working with someone so young..yet it would be full of challenges. The crescent moon on her hand glowed ever so slightly, and the Mark in return glowed faintly as well as if reassuring that her prey was Marked.

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#, as written by Gladis
James remained as he was, standing fully still as she traced the scars on his chest. He still didn't like being touched, but at the same time he was used to it. The fact or feeling was nothing new, and he had learned to ignore it most of the time. It was probably just because he had been touched so often, and many times in ways he disliked, that it made him feel uneasy. Then again, even as a little child he had never liked having people too close to him. Anyone but his mother, of course. He had loved being close to him mother.

No matter how used he was to it though, James tensed as she pressed her lips to his chest. A sharp gasp of agony escaped his lips as he felt the burning pain, but he made no other sound than that, gritting his teeth so tightly, it almost felt like his jaw would break. It was agony, worse than most things he had ever felt before, but still nothing he couldn't handle. As she pulled back he relaxed, though, and even if the wound was still burning, the pain seemed to become less.

A thin smile formed on his lips. "Your name is Veronica Vulpes," he said after a moment, "and it suits you. Keep it," he glanced down and lifted his right hand, carefully touching the wound and wincing in pain as more pain surged through him. Probably it would stop hurting soon, he hoped. "I am James Williams, although I believe you already know that," he offered her his hand, his smile becoming ever so slightly softer.

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She merely nodded as she kept her name, before grasping his hand and holding herself up. She cocked her head to the side staring at the Mark before softly saying "You shouldn't touch it to much, I would hate for it be ruined..sir..". A small grin appeared on her face as she nodded in response to the offer of his name and asked "I am assuming you still enjoy painting? Your mother would always speak of your drawings whenever we happened to meet or when she needed my assistance..which thankfully was not often." Her eyes widened slightly as she asked "What role shall I play for you sir? I would prefer to keep my true nature hidden..the flirtatious maid..or perhaps the shy painter's assistant..although I must admit I am not fond of familial roles..you see my last Master had the idea in mind of replacing his daughter..a most annoying role I assure you...".

Her rambling stopped quite suddenly as she realized she spoke of a former Master. How shameful was that indeed...bowing her head she muttered " I apologize Master, shall I find you proper lodging for the evening...it would do me no good if you died from this rain..". In truth she too was getting sick of the rain and her Master was starting to look like a water-lodged rat trying to escape the sewers...

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#, as written by Gladis
James nodded his head and withdrew his hand again before carefully closing his shirt to conceal the mark. "I see," he said calmly, "I shall be careful, then," he paused and tilted his head at her smirk, looking slightly baffled by her question, "painting," he looking thoughtful for a moment, "I haven't done that in so many years. I don't even know if I remember how... but it is true that I used to love it," by the sound of it, this demoness had indeed known his mother. How ironic that James would run into just her too. He had never had a servant before, this was all rather new to him.

"As for your role," he said, "The maid works fine, then," James replied, glancing up at the stormy sky and first then noticing how cold he had gotten. In fact, he was still shivering ever so slightly. "That might be good, yes," he agreed with a slight nod of his head as he moved his hand back to his wound. He would have to find something to bandage it soon, because he was still bleeding and actually starting to feel rather dizzy.

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Veronica inclined her head before withdrawing a parasol from her pocket and opening it over her Master's head..there the rain problem was solved for now. Smiling ever so slightly she gestured out in front her to have him follow her..the scent of blood reached her nose as she walked onward hoping that her new Master wouldn't pass out before reaching proper lodgings..it would be most improbable to explain how a woman her size would be able to carry him..as a mortal anyways. In a cheerful voice she said "Come along sir, let's find you a nice feathered bed for your head..". A few early-risers stared at the duo, mainly the boy's arm still bleeding.."Some brute mugged my poor Master, what's a poor maid to do..." She cried out as she pressed her free palm to the wound hoping to starch the bleeding..hopefully some stupid sod would be willing enough to take them in for the day until she could properly dress the wound itself.

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#, as written by Gladis
James blinked. She had a parasol... in her pocket? He realized he shouldn't be so surprised, since she was a demon, after all, but still. He had yet to get used to the fact that he had a maid, and that his maid in fact was a demon. Smiling a little to himself he ignored the dizzy feeling and soaked clothes, following her. A nice feathered bed sounded good, almost too good. He doubted they would find any. He would be glad just to have a roof over his head and some dry clothes.

"I believe there is an inn around the corner," James said, just as she placed her palm against the wound. His face twisted ever so slightly in pain, but that was all. Like said, he had been through worse before, "I would say we could hire a room, but I don't know if I have enough money," he said, thinking of the small money pouch he had in his pocket. It held only a few coins, what remained after his last... job.

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Veronica merely smiled slightly as they turned the corner revealing a decent inn. Lowering the parasol and closing it before returning it to her pocket she merely led her Master inside. Winking at him she set him down in a plush chair, much to the distress of the man behind the counter "Oi, get that bloody kid out of here, he is going to stain my chair!". The man behind the counter fumed and was about to leave his post before being stopped by teary green eyes..and a beautiful face with pale blonde falling in the woman's face..Veronica's gloved hands grasped the man's collar and felt cool tears run down her face as she struggled to even her breathing..."Please sir, please..give my Master a room for the day, he unfortunately does not have a lot of money on him as we were mugged sir...terrible men pulled my Master into an alleyway and demanded his money or else..they would...". Her face flushed red as she sagged against the man in shock..the surprised man merely petted her hair as if trying to comfort this distraught angel..


"There, there young miss, I am a kind man it is a shame what happened to your young master and I would be more than willing to give him a room. There, there my dear no need to fret..." The man finished awkwardly as Veronica gingerly wiped her face clean of tears before curtseying to the man sweetly and planting a kiss on his cheek before going to her Master's side and patting his hand. The inn keep summoned a young boy who apparently worked there and offered his assistance "Master, these kind gentlemen are going to assist you to your quarters..okay?" Veronica asked in a watery voice, as if any more offenses toward her Master would set off the waterworks again...

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#, as written by Gladis
James watched the scene play before his eyes and he couldn't help but smile ever so slightly, inwardly. He had to admit, Veronica was quite the actor. It cold have fooled him, hadn't she had her hands around his throat earlier on. Subconsciously he traced where her fingers had drummed against it with his hand, carefully. It had given him quite the scare, although he of course had no intension's of admitting that... to anyone. Instead of smiling, however, James placed his hand over the bloody wound and tried to drop his mask for once, letting the agony was in reflect on his face, in his tired eyes.

There were several more people in the room, and James couldn't help but feel somewhat embarrassed. Not only was he drenched and dirty, but he was also wearing the probably shaggiest clothes in here. The bleeding was added to that. He could feel several sets of eyes on him, and hear whispers from corners, but he decided to ignore it. Let them whisper, let them talk. It would do him no harm, and it was not like people hadn't whispered, talked and stared before. What caught his attention, however, was a shaggy white cat sleeping on the third step of a staircase leading to the upper floor. A tiny smile formed on his lips as he watched the animals body heave and fall in pace with his breathing. James guessed that the cat belonged to the inn owner. It looked so peaceful where it lay, sleeping soundly. Just watching him made James even more tired.

He was pulled out of his thoughts as he heard Veronica's voice, causing him to automatically turn his head and face her. He stood up, feeling his head instantly starting to protest as he swayed slightly on his feet. To steady himself, he removed his right hand from his left arm and placed it against the wall.
"Okay," he said with a weak smile, "thank you."

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The innkeep and the boy let out a small gasp as the maid's Master swayed and gently stood on both his sides using their body as crutches, and began the slow upward journey to the upper floor. Veronica followed behind wringing her hands together the picture of a worrying maid. After narrowly stepping over the sleeping cat, the two men finally reached the best room in the inn, and gently set the young man down on the goose feather bed..the blood would stain the white sheets, but nothing soap would be able to remove. As the men prepared to exit the room Veronica flashed them a small smile and curtseyed to them one last time..before ushering them out of the room. The sound of the door closing cut through the silence as Veronica let out a sigh of relief...


Removing the ribbon from her short hair she ran a hand through her damp hair. Slowly she walked over to wounded Master and examined the wound gently before muttering "Shall I dress your wound sir? Or would you prefer to pass out from blood loss...". Her comment was mostly to herself, although it could of been a test to make sure her Master was still functioning well enough. Taking off her black gloves she quickly grabbed the needed supplies to dress the wound..including a needle and thread just in case it was deep enough to need stitching. With a small smile she poured a medical alcohol into the cloth and asked sweetly "Ready to begin sir..I promise to be as gentle as possible...". A knock at the door brought her to her senses...she barely opened the door before the heat from a jug of water hit her face...it was the young assistant "Excuse me miss...I brought your Master a jug of hot water for that awful wound of his...perhaps I could...". As the assistant tried to enter the door only to be blocked by Veronica's hand who stared down the boy "Thank you for your assistance kind sir..I assure you I can take care of my Master myself...now shoo.". With that dismissive comment the door was slammed in the boy's face. With a jug of hot water in her hands she gingerly wiped the her Master's face with a smaller cloth..."Shall I even ask how you received that wound sir..."

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#, as written by Gladis
James could feel himself flinch slightly as he was touched by the boys, and not before he had told himself mentally that they were only there to help, that he needed their help and they wouldn't hurt him, he relaxed... a little. He let out a small sigh of relief as they set him down on the bed and let go of him. The bed was so soft, he'd never felt anything like that before. Momentarily awed, he was briefly distracted from the intense pain. It only lasted for a few seconds, though, for as soon as the boys had left the room, he glanced at Veronica.

"Yes please," he replied as she asked whether she should dress his wounds. James frowned. "Pass out of..." he trailed off and groaned softly as he realized she wasn't serious, having too much of a head ache to find that any funny right then. Just as he was about to reply to her question if he was ready, there was a knock on the door. He glanced up, wondering what was going on. He watched them in silence, feeling sick. He honestly hoped he wouldn't have to throw up. That would have been quite the embarrassment.

He could feel the small cloth wipe across his face, the steaming water hot against his skin. Yet he didn't mind. it felt nice to get rid of some of that dirt. When she asked about his wound, he couldn't help but to chuckle a little, weakly and tiredly, despite himself and his situation. "You better simply not," he replied weakly, "I am too tired for long stories for the time being."