riverview | { Video; UN: potentia.regere }

It was unexpected. Very unexpected. The only ones who can be so sure of their own death are those who die of their own hand. [Even disease was unpredictable in some cases... But since they're on the topic of death, and he knows what sometimes lurks in this city, and he knows the last time he saw this man he was little more than pieces of bone in a casket, there is a very real concern for him.]

This may come as a strange request, Earl, but can you describe where you are right now? It may not be safe where you are and we can't have an encore of the last time we met.

Even then, the pain can be surprising. {But his suffering really doesn't concern him.} I trust Rachel followed me? What of the twins?

{While he manages to keep his calm, content facade, there is a flash of anger hidden underneath. As a father - as a Phantomhive - he will not rest if his sons have been hurt or killed.}

I am in the communal housing. What should I be wary of, do you suppose?

[The grin on him is the only sign of his own relief. He's still quite stunned to see the Earl here and alive, but he'll let that much slide for now. People who should have been dead in their own worlds were here now. His isn't a unique situation.] A terrible last memory, to be sure. I wish I had better news for you, but I've not seen your wife or one of you sons here. The other is safe with me, and that'll be a comfort to you.

If you're in the communal housing, you're just as well off. It isn't what's inside the buildings what concerns me so much as what can be outside of them.

{Something hollow, something angry passes over his features for a moment. Yet, in the next instant, it is quelled masterfully.

His son is here.} You have kept your loyalty to the Phantomhives, I see, and I am grateful for it. How does he fare?

{He walks to a window.} How am I to find both of you if I do not go out?

[He knows that anger, knows to expect it. He also knows there is nothing he can do to help the Earl soothe it, but he wouldn't try if he could. Vincent has every right to be pissed off.] He is as well as he can be. Every bit the young noble he would have been.

[He can see the view shift and doesn't think much of it, though it does fascinate him to no end that he can see distant things that should be a watery mess to his eyes in perfect clarity through this small screen.] Within the city itself, things aren't so bad. I had been more concerned that you were beyond, where things are not quite so well maintained.

[He grins. There are things to worry about, but the Earl is safe and for now, he cares for not much else.] They would have given you a floor and a room to your own until you find more permanent housing. What is yours, milord? I'll come see you if you'd not mind the company and we can go find your son.

{Anger is useful. He just needs to direct it. It's not for everyone to see and to know. Outwardly, he must appear unfazed by the tragedy of losing all he held dear in one night.}

Thank you for protecting him. Neither of them are destined to be physically strong. It is their minds that must be made of iron.

{Blinking out of his thoughts, he smiles faintly and there is a rare sweetness to it.} All things considered, I would not hold back if I were.

{Murder would be easy in his current mood.} Yet it is better that I am here so that I can greet you and my son properly.

I am located on floor four and I have been given bed four for the time being.

[He's not one for outbursts, though he'll hardly stand in the Earl's way if he wants to go tearing through the monsters outside the walls. If it comes to it, he'll even gladly stand to the side and make sure he doesn't get in over his head.] No thanks needed. He gives me something to occupy my time and it's a strange thing to live with someone, for once. But I'll be about here shortly. You're just a few floors beneath us.

[He would take the stairs, but in this instance, he wants to get to the Earl sooner rather than later, so to the elevator he'll go. Once he reaches the correct floor, he'll step out and into the hall and knock on the door and wait patiently, wondering what Vincent might think of his clothing now that he's no longer wearing the coat and the hat.]

{He mulls over what he knows and weighs it against what he doesn't. He is losing by far too much ground. Undertaker can help him even the score and, perhaps the more important aspect, lead him to his little son. But Vincent likes his games too and he likes winning them.

At the knock, he glances over his shoulder and strides to the door, opening it. As it turns out, it doesn't matter - immediately, at least - what the other man wears. Vincent will grip the front of his shirt and pull him into the room anyway.}

Now we can speak in private?

[For being the first time he has seen this man alive in far too many years, when he thought that he would never see him outside of a coffin again, this is too strange a thing. He has been around the dead and the living dead for quite some time, but this one instant has something worming around in his chest with the thought that he's essentially seeing the dead back to life. If only it could have worked that well when they had been back home. But that wasn't going to do them any good now.]

[And with the hand that just yanked him into the room, he supposes that's all the greeting he's going to get.]

[Well then.]

[He lets himself be dragged, quick enough on his feet that he won't fall, grin and giggle in place.]

Of course, my lord. What can I do for you?

{Vincent is warm, solid and alive. His return is no mimicry or farce. But he looks troubled too - and somewhat disheveled (as one might expect). Yet he is taking it in stride and, as he grabs onto Undertaker's shirt, his mind is already seeking answers for its many, many questions.}

He's not Ciel. {The words are abrupt and he relaxes his hold on the fabric of the shirt only slightly.} I have a suspicion. It would not surprise me if you shared it. I do not need to see him to...know.

{Because they are his twins, body and soul.}

Edited 2017-10-28 05:58 (UTC)

[Just like the Earl he knew. Right down to business. He doesn't bother with fussing over the man's looks. Vincent could have come back wearing not much more than the skin on his bones and Undertaker would be happy, in his own way, to see him again. But it immediately becomes apparent what the source of his concern is.]

[His grin mutes itself, voice softening.]

No, he is not Ciel. [It's the first time in years that he has even spoken the name. It feels strange on his tongue - they have always only ever been "Earl" or "milord" or any other term of rank to him.] You've been able to speak with him already, I see.

Edited 2017-10-28 11:45 (UTC)

{He is thankful to have some clothes. Becoming chilled after everything really won't do him any good. While his health is good (compared to Rachel's and his son's, at least) he is obviously not invincible.}

I thought not. {Then that must mean Ciel is... No, he cannot make that conclusion. All he knows is his weaker son; his second son is here. Smiling sorrowfully, he closes his eyes.}

He played a little game with me. I do not know if I will be able to release him once I see him. {Fourteen. His baby is fourteen.} I understand why he pretends and I can't make it better.

[Please let's not have to go clothes shopping for a second Phantomhive in near as many months. Once was enough, even if Vincent is closer to his own size.]

[He watches, waiting, letting the Earl process things, not minding the hands still holding him hostage at the front of his shirt.]

He does with everyone, milord. I wasn't sure which he was at first myself until quite some time later. But he is your son, and you are here now. Far be it for me to claim I know the depth of the bond you share, but given time, that's only bound to make some things better.

{Oh but they must do that regardless! Vincent looks good in so many outfits.

Belatedly, he remembers those hands and his grip loosens in measures. It's comforting to feel the solidity of someone else; someone he knows and trusts.}

He opened a toy store. That was never Ciel's dream. {That had begun the doubts.} I remember him being quite upset his brother wanted to part from him for the enterprise. Rachel and I had to speak with him.

Even if he wanted to remember his brother in some way, why would he choose a profession that did not interest him? {That just isn't his Ciel's nature.} I...knew...them. Four years ago.

Our bond has been stretched thin.

[Oh Earl please don't make him endure this.]

[He appreciates being freed again, but he won't move from where the Earl left him standing. What Vincent is talking about is all news to him, things that he wouldn't have known as the informant to the Watchdog, but he listens in earnest anyway.]

Try to remember, my lord, you had been dead. Your appearance here was a surprise even to me, and four years is a long time to change a person, even one so young. Your son had to make his way in the world, left to what he was, and you know as well as any of us what that sort of life can do to a person. But he's stronger than he looks. He comes from good stock, after all.

{Vincent can be strong in adversity - like steel, really - but he is not really the sort that can neatly solve problems. That had been more of Rachel's forte and, well, she's not here. He misses her, frankly, and he speaks aloud, trying to draw from his memories of her and his sons.

Yet he is in good company. Undertaker's logic brings him to Earth and he motions at a chair with his head.}

You should sit. {While he paces and frets, apparently. Vincent smirks at himself.} That is another aspect that I do not wholly understand. How did he survive? Those who broke into the mansion were well-armed and vicious.

How could a young boy stand against that?

[He sighs softly and takes the seat offered to watch Vincent pace and fret. One leg crosses over the other and he leans back a bit, looking up at the man.]

The answer to that is not so simple. Your son has suffered quite a bit. It would pain him to have to relay the tale to you, I'm sure, but I should let him decide if he wants to be the one to tell you or if he would rather I explain it all. It would settle your mind just to see him again though, milord. We should take a walk, I think.

{He runs a hand through his hair and loosens the collar of his shirt. He feels the itching need to act when he hears of his son suffering. But he is four years too late and in the wrong place besides. Finally, he claims a second chair, brow furrowing.}

I do not want to interrupt his work. He said we could meet him in his office.

{It's almost comical.}

What he went through is part of who he is now. I need to know of it, but I won't force him.

[He watches Vincent sit, noting the restlessness. It's hard not to see, even with his eyes.]

Time, milord. You have it now. Undoubtedly there is a paternal instinct in you what drives that urge to seek it all now, but it will come. We don't need to stop off by his office immediately, but let me walk you around the city a little. The air will do you some good, and we can make our way to your boy along the route. Besides, you're newly revived. This whole being alive thing must be rattling enough as it is. That's not going to help your nerves.

[He doesn't know anything about that at all, no.]

...you are right. {He tilts his head, leaning towards Undertaker.} I did not injure you when I pulled you inside? I am anxious, as you guessed, and I feel I could run laps around the city without tiring.

{What good that would do is questionable.}

...I can't say I've thought about it. Being alive. {He flexes his hands, his fingers.} My body has memory of the pain, the blood and the loss of breath, but there is not much there for me to mentally decipher.

[His smile softens, glad to see Vincent finally coming down and around a little. He does feel for the man. He knows what it's like to die and then suddenly find himself in shock a second time to see that it's not all done, and his sympathies don't just end there, but he'll keep mum on the specifics of it for now. One thing at a time.]

Don't worry yourself over me. Getting dragged into another room is the least of my concerns right now. But being that I've some experience with at least one side of death, the least I can do is offer an ear if you feel a need to talk about the other.

[He stands and gestures for Vincent to follow him.] Come, milord. Everything about your stay here thus far has been all too unpleasant. You're alive again, and this should be a happy time for you. Not many get that second chance.

{Many will say, swearing even, that Vincent has no heart; that he is a brutal tactician that kills without conscience. But that is only true when he is behaving as the Watch-Dog. His true self is far more empathetic. He loves his family and his friends - even if he gives them a hard time - and he is not taking what befell them easily. How can he?

But Undertaker has a curious effect on him - he always has - and Vincent is calming. He looks comforted by the fact that he hasn't hurt the other man.}

Something might occur to me later. I fear I am one-track-minded at present. {All he wants to do is see his son.} Yes. {He rises and moves to Undertaker's side, a little more color to his cheeks.} This is a special place where the rules of life and death are bent. Obviously others are given a second chance here. But are there cases of it in our world?

[His head lulls just so to one side and he turns as Vincent approaches, taking a step or two away before he'll respond.]

Count on it. This place gives one time enough to consider what he will, whether or not he wants. [He opens the door and gestures again, for Vincent to leave before him.] As far as I know, you and your son and I, we're the only ones from our world, or our own time, whatever the case may be. I'm rather enjoying it.

{There is an etiquette that is expected between nobles and commoners, but Vincent doesn't feel much like adhering to it. He is gentler this time when he tugs Undertaker through the door along with him, but he is just as insistent.}

I can listen too if you have need of it. {He shrugs and smiles faintly.} That does make the place more interesting. Would you say others are from the future or the past more often?

[Vincent can lower himself to the mortician's level if he likes, and he'll treat it like he always has. The man will always be an Earl to him, he and his son both. The tugging won't get any resistance.]

That's very generous. I'll keep it in mind, should I need it. [He won't ask after it.] I've found they're almost all from the future, a very distant future. We hail from the year eighteen ninety-nine. I've yet to meet someone outside of our world who came from a year earlier than somewhere near a hundred years later. Fascinating times, those.

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