text; un: cphantom

[sweetlies]

is there somewhere i can get a decent cup of tea

i find myself missing at least a few of my daily routines already

and i don't intend on giving up too much of the life i am accustomed to.

Comments

[bestrobin]

( He doesn't really care about fashion.

He straightened slightly as Ciel dipped his head, nodding his own in reply. If he were anyone else, he might have offered his hand in a handshake. As it was, he kept his hands tucked into his pockets. )

Damian Wayne. ( The green eyes trailed down the length of Ciel's body, a curious gaze meant to try and gauge any threat or catch anything unusual. )

How old are you?

[sweetlies]

It's a pleasure.

[Ciel is, as he's always been, kind of a small boy with one eye, heeled shoes, and generally as weak in appearance as he is physically.]

Thirteen though if we were to be technical, I was two weeks from my birthday.

[bestrobin]

( Damian was sure the other boy was likely not a threat, but he knew looks weren't always an indication of skill and definitely not intelligence. Regardless, he found he wasn't immediately on the defensive.

He nodded his head at the response. )

I'm thirteen as well. ( His own birthday had been a few weeks ago, but it wasn't a fact he bothered to share with the other boy. )

Are you ready?

[sweetlies]

[In truth, he had a gun always tucked away in the back of his jacket but unless he has real reason to use it, he doesn't plan on wasting the limited number of bullets he has. Especially as he's avoiding having to register it.]

Quite ready. Please, lead the way. [He manages a polite smile.]

[bestrobin]

​( The other boy was polite. Most people would have found that reassuring, but Damian spared himself a thought that it could get annoying fast. )

Follow me. ( He ordered, stuffing one hand in his pocket and motioning expectantly to the space beside him with the other as he started forward. )​

[sweetlies]

[He was raised that way. And his position in society requires he remain polite, at least in England. Thirteen years of being taught that won't go away easily. He couldn't even manage to blend in perfectly in Noah's Ark Circus.

Ciel follows quietly, keeping just a step back and to the side of Damien. It's only his inexperience here that keeps him from getting to irritated at the order.]

[bestrobin]

( Damian was grateful for the silence as they walked. Making small talk has never been his forte.

As the neared the shop, he glanced over at the other expectantly. )

What kind of tea do you prefer?

[sweetlies]

[He's in good company. Ciel is neither good at it or find of it. More often than not, he found, someone ended up saying something foolish.]

Black tea, no particular preference for the type though so long as it's good quality and strong.