Setting
Default Location for Black Butler: New Contract
Minimap
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You are here. |
east |
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Black Butler: New Contract is a part of 
Black Butler: New Contract.
15 Characters Here
Sebastian Michaelis [0] "I am one hell of a butler after all."
Ciel Phantomhive [0] "I don't need your 'fawning'. It's disgusting."
Nyu Callenthine [0] A permanent guest of the Phantomhives, but helps in any way possible
Pylos Ophis [0] "Oh, please, don't be so squeamish. It's gross."
Undertaker (and/or) Mortem [0] AHAHAHHAA! To think that you would go so far...
Grell Sutcliff [0]
Merel Endellion [0]
Alois Trancy [0] "Oh please, save me and let me smile. Just make me alright."
Adrian Dragomir [0] "Whatever you say."
Marceline Julie Yvonne [0] "I will get what I want even if it cost some lives."
Start Character Here »
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Merel walked into the kitchen at the Phantomhive Manor in a leisurely fashion as her pipe hung from her lips and her hands were neatly folded within the sleeves of her kimono. She sighed and closed her eyes, leaning her right hip on a nearby counter, she paused for a moment or two to think of what she should cook before pushing herself off and getting to work.
Just as lazily as before, Merel continued to move in such a way that it seemed like she flowed, no move exerting any unnecessary energy. Merel made in intricate breakfast of steaming scones with orange zest and butter to the side; toast with a selection of jams, preserves and jellies; and a few sausages along with an egg lightly fried to perfection. She knew that the Butler would choose the tea in the morning, as he had told her as much the day she accepted employment here (along with a great list of many other things). And so, she simply put a kettle of water on the stove and moved the tea tray the Butler had prepared the night before to the covered tray of food she had prepared.
Merel spared a glace for the clock near the arch of the doorway, it was 7:28. The Butler would be her in exactly, she squinted her eyes to see the second hand, one minute and fifty seconds. Merel looked once more at the kettle and returned to her arranging of the Young Master's Breakfast tray (including the tea set). Once that was done she covered the warm foods back up and sat in a nearby chair, back ramrod straight, as she had been taught when younger. A few moments to myself... Relaxing. She murmured in her thoughts before she drifted off into the very lightest of dozes, only pass the time until she was required to wake up by the Butler's reprimands or the tea kettle's whistling.
Just as lazily as before, Merel continued to move in such a way that it seemed like she flowed, no move exerting any unnecessary energy. Merel made in intricate breakfast of steaming scones with orange zest and butter to the side; toast with a selection of jams, preserves and jellies; and a few sausages along with an egg lightly fried to perfection. She knew that the Butler would choose the tea in the morning, as he had told her as much the day she accepted employment here (along with a great list of many other things). And so, she simply put a kettle of water on the stove and moved the tea tray the Butler had prepared the night before to the covered tray of food she had prepared.
Merel spared a glace for the clock near the arch of the doorway, it was 7:28. The Butler would be her in exactly, she squinted her eyes to see the second hand, one minute and fifty seconds. Merel looked once more at the kettle and returned to her arranging of the Young Master's Breakfast tray (including the tea set). Once that was done she covered the warm foods back up and sat in a nearby chair, back ramrod straight, as she had been taught when younger. A few moments to myself... Relaxing. She murmured in her thoughts before she drifted off into the very lightest of dozes, only pass the time until she was required to wake up by the Butler's reprimands or the tea kettle's whistling.
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Wynter kneeled down in the garden watering the plants.
She brushed back her long hair with her wrists, hoping to not get it dirty.
Her deep blue eyes looked over the beautiful garden as she stood up.
Seeming proud of her work, she sat on a stone bench and crossed her ankles, enjoying a free moment.
Her deep blue hair covered one of her eyes as she took off her gloves and stood up, before bumping into the bench she had been sitting on, and fell on the ground.
She sat up, thankful she hadn't fallen on any flowers and rubbed her now-bruised hip. "Owwww."
She brushed back her long hair with her wrists, hoping to not get it dirty.
Her deep blue eyes looked over the beautiful garden as she stood up.
Seeming proud of her work, she sat on a stone bench and crossed her ankles, enjoying a free moment.
Her deep blue hair covered one of her eyes as she took off her gloves and stood up, before bumping into the bench she had been sitting on, and fell on the ground.
She sat up, thankful she hadn't fallen on any flowers and rubbed her now-bruised hip. "Owwww."
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Ciel sat on his usual chair in his office glaring hard at some stupid murder again. He sighs and waits knowing Sebastian will be coming anytime soon. He closed his eyes and remembered everything he has been through. Starting with The Jack-The-Ripper Case, to the putrid Angel, Meeting Claude and Alois, and everything else. He turned around in the chair and stood, looking through the large window of his office.
"Jeez what is Sebastian doing..."
"Jeez what is Sebastian doing..."
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Inside at the phantomhive resident, Alice was cleaning the floor and try to let all place neat. She ever wondered why is she all so suddenly have a permanent job like this.
She take the vase up to clean the table that looks full of dust, and then clean it. The ave looked beautiful and she stares to it for a long time. "Ops! I can't do this!" Alice realized on what she is doing, and quickly put it back to it's original place. She takes out the broom and sweep the floor carefully. Actually she never ever clean a resident like this huge. Furthermore, the dust is every where and she can't stand for it.
The top floor is already neat, now the only need to be settled is at the main hall. She quickly sweep and clean all over the place without a single sit even tough for a while.
She take the vase up to clean the table that looks full of dust, and then clean it. The ave looked beautiful and she stares to it for a long time. "Ops! I can't do this!" Alice realized on what she is doing, and quickly put it back to it's original place. She takes out the broom and sweep the floor carefully. Actually she never ever clean a resident like this huge. Furthermore, the dust is every where and she can't stand for it.
The top floor is already neat, now the only need to be settled is at the main hall. She quickly sweep and clean all over the place without a single sit even tough for a while.
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The Yvonne Gardens..
Dianthe's favorite place in the world. She flew out of a mansion window, her wings being tickled by the soothing breeze, the morning sun's rays dancing around her delicate frame as she landed gracefully onto the grass. She knelt down to smell a rose of a rose bush. "Perfect scented" she said content with how the garden was growing. She stood back up and flew swiftly towards the tool shed where she kept her garden tools. She unlocked the door with the key she wore as a necklace and stepped in to search for a water pail. She found what she was looking for and returned outside. She went behind the old wood shed for the tap, switching it on cautiously to fill the pail. Afterwards she flew around the gardens lightly sprinkling water thoroughly on every flower, bush, tree in sight.
Dianthe's favorite place in the world. She flew out of a mansion window, her wings being tickled by the soothing breeze, the morning sun's rays dancing around her delicate frame as she landed gracefully onto the grass. She knelt down to smell a rose of a rose bush. "Perfect scented" she said content with how the garden was growing. She stood back up and flew swiftly towards the tool shed where she kept her garden tools. She unlocked the door with the key she wore as a necklace and stepped in to search for a water pail. She found what she was looking for and returned outside. She went behind the old wood shed for the tap, switching it on cautiously to fill the pail. Afterwards she flew around the gardens lightly sprinkling water thoroughly on every flower, bush, tree in sight.
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Adrian just arrived back at the manor, after buying some tea. He looked over, and smiled seeing Dianthe. The garden was beautiful thanks to her. He silently walked over, appearing behind her, "Good morning." he said with a small chuckle. Giving her a smile, he headed towards the door, and walked into the mansion. They didnt have a chef or a maid just yet, which was why he had to do most of the work. With a small sigh, he strolled into the kitchen, placing the teas where it belonged. Adrian yawned tiredly and stretched. He would enjoy a nice nap, but for now that wasnt possible. The demon rubbed the back of his neck as he walked out of the kitchen. He looked around for a second before starting to clean. He dusted the curtains first, before moving around the house in great speed. He polished the railings, and cleaned the floor till it shined. When he was finally done, Adrian walked up to Marceline's room to check on her. He knocked on her door, wondering if she was awake and poked his head in with small grin.
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Her wings stopped fluttering as she landed on the ground to curtsey. "Good morning Adrian, thank goodness you have returned safely with the master's tea" she said politely before he had headed towards the door.
She turned her attention back to the garden as she dusted her hands off. "Another perfect morning" she said to herself not sure of what to do next. "Well..I can't water them too much..." she said, flying back to the tool shed to return the water pail. She looked back at the garden, then back at the water pail. "I feel so tempted to do it all over again" she said sighing.
She turned her attention back to the garden as she dusted her hands off. "Another perfect morning" she said to herself not sure of what to do next. "Well..I can't water them too much..." she said, flying back to the tool shed to return the water pail. She looked back at the garden, then back at the water pail. "I feel so tempted to do it all over again" she said sighing.
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Excruciating every single detail in the long mirror, Grell waddled his tush this way and that, while placing a slender finger to his poised lips. Oh yes, he was beautiful. Long lashes batted in the reflection of the mirror, taunting him because they were fake. He hugged his arms affectionately around his own slender waist, squirmed giddily, and cooed in delight. Sebastian. Oh, how he wished that he'd swoop in through the window in all of his ebony glory and steel himself in his strong arms. Good enough to eat, he was. A soft blush coloured his cheeks. He sighed exasperatedly before chancing another twirl, watched as his crimson jacket flowed smoothly behind him and stomped out of the small room. All Shinigami's were granted their own flats in London—particularly to be close to those killed in or around the London area, especially naughty boys and girls who provided him with such work.
Fortunately, Grell had more than enough attractive people to bother and pester in his off time, which only delighted him. Sebastian wasn't the only demon in his heart. First stop was the Trancy mansion, who'd acquired some peculiar and delicious new staff after Alois' butler's disappearance. The small, blonde always delighted him with his coy smiles and saucy attitude—if he were any younger, he would have scooped the boy up in his arms and devoured him. Thankfully, he didn't really care about age. It wasn't important when you were as impeccably beautiful as he was. “The fastest way... would be, up there.” He murmured quietly to himself, eyeing the rooftops towering above him. Allowing himself normal transportation would only slow him down, so he stooped low on his haunches and propelled himself from the cobble stones. As long as no mortal being caught sight of his antics, he was safe to do as he pleased. Vaulting from rooftops as quickly as he could manage, he couldn't help but grin toothily. His shark-like teeth glinting. Spinning in the air, he landed quietly on his heels before throwing his arms out to balance himself. Perfect landing. He would have given it a perfect ten.
The Trancy Mansion loomed with a certain feeling of forbearance. He wondered curiously how Alois was copping without his beloved butler, he wasn't blind and could see the desire wafting from him in unwelcome waves—he too, had felt such feelings when in the presence of Sebastian or William, it wasn't benign to him. Clopping down the long driveway, he flipped his crimson hair away from his visage and adjusted his spectacles before winking into the sunlight. Alois Trancy. The words felt like silk on his tongue. Once at the front door, he nearly pressed himself against it while he knocked. “Alois Trancy,” He nearly sang, peering through the small eyehole.
Fortunately, Grell had more than enough attractive people to bother and pester in his off time, which only delighted him. Sebastian wasn't the only demon in his heart. First stop was the Trancy mansion, who'd acquired some peculiar and delicious new staff after Alois' butler's disappearance. The small, blonde always delighted him with his coy smiles and saucy attitude—if he were any younger, he would have scooped the boy up in his arms and devoured him. Thankfully, he didn't really care about age. It wasn't important when you were as impeccably beautiful as he was. “The fastest way... would be, up there.” He murmured quietly to himself, eyeing the rooftops towering above him. Allowing himself normal transportation would only slow him down, so he stooped low on his haunches and propelled himself from the cobble stones. As long as no mortal being caught sight of his antics, he was safe to do as he pleased. Vaulting from rooftops as quickly as he could manage, he couldn't help but grin toothily. His shark-like teeth glinting. Spinning in the air, he landed quietly on his heels before throwing his arms out to balance himself. Perfect landing. He would have given it a perfect ten.
The Trancy Mansion loomed with a certain feeling of forbearance. He wondered curiously how Alois was copping without his beloved butler, he wasn't blind and could see the desire wafting from him in unwelcome waves—he too, had felt such feelings when in the presence of Sebastian or William, it wasn't benign to him. Clopping down the long driveway, he flipped his crimson hair away from his visage and adjusted his spectacles before winking into the sunlight. Alois Trancy. The words felt like silk on his tongue. Once at the front door, he nearly pressed himself against it while he knocked. “Alois Trancy,” He nearly sang, peering through the small eyehole.
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"Whew.. That was quite a hard work." Alice was tired and she now have a clothes to wash. She seated at the laundry for a while and swipe her sweat. "Huh.. I've never work this hard before.. Too much for a girl like me. But, I will not give up to keep on my work!" She encouraging herself and washing the clothes that ever leaved around 50 years ago. "This clothes looks like a little bit old." She then keep washing the clothes and keep in her head that she will try to not makes any mistakes.
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An absolutely fine day. Beautiful. Perfect. Just peachy. Of course I'm being sarcastic. Every morning I awoke and dressed myself. Every morning I sat at the table and projected the foods I didn't like across the room, those I did on the floor for the maid. I was perpetually frustrated, even more so than I had been before, because now I lived everyday without the one thing I desired most of all. My heart would sink every morning when I realized once again that I was alive again without him, and I would reluctantly rise to the day. It seemed like I was always angry. Nothing was ever good enough for me, and I knew I scared my employees. No, not knew. Not quite. I hoped I did. I wanted to instill the sort of terror in them that a Human feels when cornered by Death itself. For allowing myself to feel these petty emotions, some other Demons may have called me weak, but I didn't care. I wanted something, and I wanted it bad enough to throw a fit because I wasn't getting my own way. I was still the same as I had been fifty years ago... but with a more powerful, brooding aura, and a depression so deep it rivalled the ocean. And I had no inhibitions about showing it off alongside a gloriously demonic temper.
I was showing it off now. I stood from the table, pushing my chair back, and taking the plate infront of me into one thin hand. With one fell thrust of my arm, the glass plate hit the floor and shattered into millions of tiny white pieces, scattering themselves across the polished surface as if they wished to escape my wrath. Just as well. I stood there breathing hard for a moment, my eyes flicking up to the double doors every now and again, still hoping that he would sense my distress and return to me. He would come through those doors any second and order the mess cleaned up. Then he would take my face and wipe away the hot tears that were streaming down my cheeks and press his eyebrows together as if scrutinizing every detail of my new face — the one I had stolen. Then he would smile, just as he had that day; the same night I had fled for Ciel Phantomhive's manor. But this time, instead of running away from it, I'd lean into him and he'd hold me close to his body... and everything would go back to the way it was.
I ran a hand through my newly blackened hair. This body was dark-haired and pale-skinned, with honey brown eyes; around the same age as I had been at my death — fourteen — I had been comfortable just slipping into this body, like a second skin. He had once been a common boy, but I had decided that I wanted him because of a fair resemblance to myself from fifty years earlier. Now, I despised myself, because everytime I looked in the mirror at the ghostly pale face framed by thick obsidian hair and tawny eyes, I remembered Claude. It drove me even more mad. I bordered on insanity, and so, the mirrors in the house were ordered to be covered over or removed altogether. I couldn't stand to look at myself anymore. My face was sickening now.
A knock on the front door roused my interest, and I picked up my teacup and saucer, only to drop it in the entrance hall on my way out. I brought myself to the front door and heaved it open, my heart thumping in my chest. Who could be there? Claude? It had to be. And if it were... now that we were both Demons, and equals....
But my heart sank, and I frowned hard at the uninvited guest. "Oh. Ginger. What do you want?" I scowled, remembering him as he sat across from me, mocking my real name, Jim McCain. As if he'd actually come here for whatever reason. The brightness of his red colour scheme made me squint at him, and it occured to me that he might not recognize me as I was before. Or maybe he would. He seemed like he might be that kind of an all-knowing, I-watch-you-as-you-sleep kind of guy, and it made me shudder. But, to disguise this, I turned a little bit and ran my fingers through my hair, brushing it back out of my face, unconciously in a way similar to how Claude had done. Maybe it was because I had spent so much time idolizing him that things like that had become private habits, and eventually I couldn't stop myself from doing it at all, especially with the haircut I wore now. Pieces kept falling into my line of vision, and I couldn't stand it. My hair of all things annoyed me, probably just about as much as the redhead at the door did at this very moment.
I was showing it off now. I stood from the table, pushing my chair back, and taking the plate infront of me into one thin hand. With one fell thrust of my arm, the glass plate hit the floor and shattered into millions of tiny white pieces, scattering themselves across the polished surface as if they wished to escape my wrath. Just as well. I stood there breathing hard for a moment, my eyes flicking up to the double doors every now and again, still hoping that he would sense my distress and return to me. He would come through those doors any second and order the mess cleaned up. Then he would take my face and wipe away the hot tears that were streaming down my cheeks and press his eyebrows together as if scrutinizing every detail of my new face — the one I had stolen. Then he would smile, just as he had that day; the same night I had fled for Ciel Phantomhive's manor. But this time, instead of running away from it, I'd lean into him and he'd hold me close to his body... and everything would go back to the way it was.
I ran a hand through my newly blackened hair. This body was dark-haired and pale-skinned, with honey brown eyes; around the same age as I had been at my death — fourteen — I had been comfortable just slipping into this body, like a second skin. He had once been a common boy, but I had decided that I wanted him because of a fair resemblance to myself from fifty years earlier. Now, I despised myself, because everytime I looked in the mirror at the ghostly pale face framed by thick obsidian hair and tawny eyes, I remembered Claude. It drove me even more mad. I bordered on insanity, and so, the mirrors in the house were ordered to be covered over or removed altogether. I couldn't stand to look at myself anymore. My face was sickening now.
A knock on the front door roused my interest, and I picked up my teacup and saucer, only to drop it in the entrance hall on my way out. I brought myself to the front door and heaved it open, my heart thumping in my chest. Who could be there? Claude? It had to be. And if it were... now that we were both Demons, and equals....
But my heart sank, and I frowned hard at the uninvited guest. "Oh. Ginger. What do you want?" I scowled, remembering him as he sat across from me, mocking my real name, Jim McCain. As if he'd actually come here for whatever reason. The brightness of his red colour scheme made me squint at him, and it occured to me that he might not recognize me as I was before. Or maybe he would. He seemed like he might be that kind of an all-knowing, I-watch-you-as-you-sleep kind of guy, and it made me shudder. But, to disguise this, I turned a little bit and ran my fingers through my hair, brushing it back out of my face, unconciously in a way similar to how Claude had done. Maybe it was because I had spent so much time idolizing him that things like that had become private habits, and eventually I couldn't stop myself from doing it at all, especially with the haircut I wore now. Pieces kept falling into my line of vision, and I couldn't stand it. My hair of all things annoyed me, probably just about as much as the redhead at the door did at this very moment.
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The Undertaker sighed in annoyance, things were so boring without Ciel Phantomhive to spice things up. What a cute little boy he'd been! He decided it was time to pay the Phantomhive estate a visit, after all He'd Heard Ciel had returned.
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The sound of a tea carts wheels made small squeaks as it was rolled, the butler pushing it frowning. He had been late, having to deal with a stained table cloth early in the morning, and, for once, loosing a second of his and his master's schedule. Sebastian made his way to the study, pushing open the door before gliding the cart of morning tea in front of the desk, beginning to prepare it.
It was Earl Grey, what his young master usually asked for, and, as preparing it, the butler's eyes rifted to catch the papers over the desk. "Excuse my tardiness, Young Master." Sebastian spoke, carefully pouring the tea as he raised the pot before tilting it back and setting it on the tray once more. He went on about the daily schedule, mostly the same as before he had become a demon, the same as the days ahead, most would think; lunch would be then. Dinner at dark, with tea at the normal times, as well as the seldom appointments and trips Ciel would have.
It was Earl Grey, what his young master usually asked for, and, as preparing it, the butler's eyes rifted to catch the papers over the desk. "Excuse my tardiness, Young Master." Sebastian spoke, carefully pouring the tea as he raised the pot before tilting it back and setting it on the tray once more. He went on about the daily schedule, mostly the same as before he had become a demon, the same as the days ahead, most would think; lunch would be then. Dinner at dark, with tea at the normal times, as well as the seldom appointments and trips Ciel would have.
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Having finished cleaning the dining hall Marion walked down the hall, only to find another mess. She almost cursed the boy before sighing in obedience. She leaned down getting on her knees to pick up the sharp glass uncaring if her cut her frail flesh. It was her job after all to clean up after her master. She finished picking up the glass and had disposited it in the trash. Giving a glance to a drop on blood on her finger she simply licked it off and continued with her work. That was when a sudden voice cut through her thoughts. It was the voice of that old, weird grim reaper. "Grell." She stopped in her tracks. Her priority was to attend her master but was seeing to his guests as important? She shook her head. That man couldn't be considered a guest. She listened in for a moment testing to see if the man had left but yet she heard the door open. It seemed that her master had gone down to the door without her having to help him. He was becoming more independent every day. She partly blamed that on the loss of Claude. Claude was the demon that had served Alois long ago and before Alois had become a demon like herself.
She stepped into the main hall looking down over the railing towards the door. There stood her master speaking with the grim reaper that she had expected. The red hair was too bright and it bothered her. She could feel the perfectionist in herself rise and flare with the need to dye that red hair something more sophisticated. She debated with herself on whether she wanted to go down and greet her master and the man. Perhaps Alois would have wanted her to take the man to the waiting room where they could sit and have a relaxing talk. She moved walking down the steps, the tray on her hand not even shaking in the slightest, to halt a few feet behind her master.
"Young master would you like me to bring him to one of the rooms designed for entertainment? You do have time if it is what you wish. There are no appointments at the moment."
She bowed her head in submission, not looking at him avoiding his gaze if he were to look at her, awaiting her answer. She hoped she hadn't spoken out of term. She was just getting used to the wild nature of Alois even after so long of a time together. He seemed to want her to fear him but she couldn't bring herself too. She almost frowned when a thought crossed her mind. It was a rather vulgar thought. Am I really a masochist? She quickly denied the claim in her mind. She didn't like pain as much as the next person. She kept her expression blank acting the obedient efficient maid that she was.
She stepped into the main hall looking down over the railing towards the door. There stood her master speaking with the grim reaper that she had expected. The red hair was too bright and it bothered her. She could feel the perfectionist in herself rise and flare with the need to dye that red hair something more sophisticated. She debated with herself on whether she wanted to go down and greet her master and the man. Perhaps Alois would have wanted her to take the man to the waiting room where they could sit and have a relaxing talk. She moved walking down the steps, the tray on her hand not even shaking in the slightest, to halt a few feet behind her master.
"Young master would you like me to bring him to one of the rooms designed for entertainment? You do have time if it is what you wish. There are no appointments at the moment."
She bowed her head in submission, not looking at him avoiding his gaze if he were to look at her, awaiting her answer. She hoped she hadn't spoken out of term. She was just getting used to the wild nature of Alois even after so long of a time together. He seemed to want her to fear him but she couldn't bring herself too. She almost frowned when a thought crossed her mind. It was a rather vulgar thought. Am I really a masochist? She quickly denied the claim in her mind. She didn't like pain as much as the next person. She kept her expression blank acting the obedient efficient maid that she was.
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((Sorry, My PC is just recovered form a serious error. I won't post now since I am still mad at the error and can't think of anything...
I'll post tomorrow... I guess))
I'll post tomorrow... I guess))
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Impatiently thumping his foot against the ground, Grell's lips pouted in front of the mirror he'd produced from his jacket pocket. Examining his less-than-effective plump lips—by Gods, he swore they'd be plump if he were a woman—he batted his long eyelashes and sighed, discarding the mirror over his shoulder. He had two more in the secret compartments of his jacket, anyway. Surprisingly enough, Alois was the one who answered the door. From what he gathered, the arrogantly delicious boy had never even remotely lifted a finger when the nonchalant butler was still bustling about. He guessed that now that Claude was dead, the newly formed demon had to fend for himself. Well, to some degrees, he still had some new servants serving beneath him. Life couldn't be that bad.
“Ginger?” Grell repeated incredulously, reeling in displeasure. “My my, how cold you are. No greeting for your dear Shinigami friend?” As much as he preferred strong, ebony-clad men—Alois was a beautiful young boy, tainted with the lust and desire that swayed his decisions. And without his butler to share such feelings with, it was a shame. Drawing near, Grell tipped his chin up so that he could gaze into his repugnant eyes. Delicious. If only he'd been a demon. Devouring souls didn't seem so bad, though he'd always prefer that they stayed alive so he could enjoy them in much more unmentionable ways. He released his chin when Alois looked away, and brushed his slender fingers through his delicate hair. Everything was a delicate flower in his lidded eyes, made to pluck and hold to your bosom. Throwing his arms out wide, Grell scooped up the smaller boy in his arms and spun him in a small circle, before releasing him back onto his feet and hopping cheerfully away. How he'd love to spoil him!
No. Grell could never be considered a guest. Without waiting for any proper invitation, he rightly invited himself into any household. He always pushed his way in, until said host gave up defeatedly and allowed him to do as he wished until he was satisfied. Crimson eyes flashed jovially as he placed his hands on his hips, eyeing the slender female who swept gracefully into the hallway. Honestly, mostly anyone who met the flamboyant grim reaper assumed he was strictly homosexual. It couldn't be far from the truth—he loved men and women, if they interested him enough. Especially anyone who wore spectacles. Cooing softly, he clicked his tongue against his shark-like teeth and winked in Marion's direction. “Ah, serious as always, Mari-chan. It'll cause crow's feet, you know. ” He commented, gesturing to the corners of his eyes before smiling toothily. He turned on his heels to consider them both. Finally, he clapped his hands together and looked down at the annoyed Alois. “Perfect perfect! We should have tea, discuss some matters you may be interested in, Oni-kun.”
“And that Pylos! I'd love to see him, too.”
“Ginger?” Grell repeated incredulously, reeling in displeasure. “My my, how cold you are. No greeting for your dear Shinigami friend?” As much as he preferred strong, ebony-clad men—Alois was a beautiful young boy, tainted with the lust and desire that swayed his decisions. And without his butler to share such feelings with, it was a shame. Drawing near, Grell tipped his chin up so that he could gaze into his repugnant eyes. Delicious. If only he'd been a demon. Devouring souls didn't seem so bad, though he'd always prefer that they stayed alive so he could enjoy them in much more unmentionable ways. He released his chin when Alois looked away, and brushed his slender fingers through his delicate hair. Everything was a delicate flower in his lidded eyes, made to pluck and hold to your bosom. Throwing his arms out wide, Grell scooped up the smaller boy in his arms and spun him in a small circle, before releasing him back onto his feet and hopping cheerfully away. How he'd love to spoil him!
No. Grell could never be considered a guest. Without waiting for any proper invitation, he rightly invited himself into any household. He always pushed his way in, until said host gave up defeatedly and allowed him to do as he wished until he was satisfied. Crimson eyes flashed jovially as he placed his hands on his hips, eyeing the slender female who swept gracefully into the hallway. Honestly, mostly anyone who met the flamboyant grim reaper assumed he was strictly homosexual. It couldn't be far from the truth—he loved men and women, if they interested him enough. Especially anyone who wore spectacles. Cooing softly, he clicked his tongue against his shark-like teeth and winked in Marion's direction. “Ah, serious as always, Mari-chan. It'll cause crow's feet, you know. ” He commented, gesturing to the corners of his eyes before smiling toothily. He turned on his heels to consider them both. Finally, he clapped his hands together and looked down at the annoyed Alois. “Perfect perfect! We should have tea, discuss some matters you may be interested in, Oni-kun.”
“And that Pylos! I'd love to see him, too.”
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Merel sighed as she sat in the Phantomhive kitchen. Sebastian seemed off today. He was late for the Young Master's breakfast and didn't admonish her for being seated while at work. Odd, odd, and even more peculiar.
She checked the clock in the kitchen just above the doorway and sighed once more efore languidly rising to her feet.
"I must be started on the Young Master's lunch. It is 11:30 after all..." She was planning on a cold salmon fillet covered in a vinagarette and a salad on the side. It would be a light lunch and the Young Master could always request more if he wanted it. Perhaps she would also take the liberty to set out some Italian soda, that lemon one would be good with the meal.
She checked the clock in the kitchen just above the doorway and sighed once more efore languidly rising to her feet.
"I must be started on the Young Master's lunch. It is 11:30 after all..." She was planning on a cold salmon fillet covered in a vinagarette and a salad on the side. It would be a light lunch and the Young Master could always request more if he wanted it. Perhaps she would also take the liberty to set out some Italian soda, that lemon one would be good with the meal.
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