riverview | video | un: undertaker

{He finally tracks down some sugar cookies and a small cake. With the aid of a larger plate, he makes a nice grouping of each for them to enjoy.}

Those who work with you the closest no longer have anything to say. {There is a certain beauty to that. He glances at Undertaker, paling.} Ah... Was there anything left of...us? I do not rightly know what became of me or Rachel after.

{He smiles faintly without much humor.} Mother held the financial reins, I assure you. Phantomhive is a far older and richer name. I took her surname for that reason - and for the fact that she was the one who prepared me to serve the Queen.

{Claudia had bent a few rules in her time, which is precisely why Vincent was so well-prepared to have a lot of strong-willed women in his life.}

Is that all? {He carries the plate to the table and purses his lips.} We can't have you lonely.

{Color congregates on his cheeks again and he turns away slightly.}

See to him. I...will adapt. {Surely he is strong enough? He likes to think so, but -} It was a very nice nap.

[With water in their cups, he sets the kettle on an oven mitt and lets it stay there, ready when they want more. Before he says anything else, rolling his thoughts around, he takes a tea bag and sets it in the cup to let it steep. The question throws him off a little, and had he not been so attached to the man, he wouldn't have hesitated to answer at all. His voice quiets for his response.]

There was a fire at the manor started long before anyone knew what had happened. Whoever did it wanted to cover their tracks. By the time word reached me, it had been put out, but... It was far too late. What went into your coffin and your wife's coffin was little more than fragments of bone.

[His back had been turned to Vincent when he set the kettle down and for it, he was more than glad. He continued to stand there, head lowering at the memory. There he was, informant to the Earl, one of his strongest allies, and even he hadn't known what was to happen. Eventually, he shook his head with a sigh and moved back to the table, to stand by his chair instead.]

Of course she did. Your father commanded much in his time, but they were more equals than he would admit. [He lifted his head to Vincent at mention that he shouldn't be lonely, head tilted in his curiosity and more than willing to take to the distraction.] Will you? You know your son said the same thing to me and it wasn't long after that I woke to find him trying to sleep, sitting against my bed.

[He didn't bother to elaborate on that, not yet, but the poor young Earl. Those had been rough times for him.] If you find yourself unable to sleep, I won't question you if you come to us. Keep you close to your son as well.

{A fire. So the bloodshed hadn't been enough. The perpetrators were - are? - scared of repercussions; of being caught. They are entirely right, of course. The Phantomhives have extensive ties - as Ciel would have known.

Vincent rests a hand on the table as an anchor.} I put you through too much. I do not think most Phantomhives live long lives, but... Thirty-four is... My mother lived for two years longer than I did.

{He looks up at Undertaker, lips in a grim line. Part of him wants to admit that the entire situation has upset him greatly. But that is giving his foes too much credit. Vincent has more pride than that and he sits down, leaning back in as casual of a manner as he can manage.}

You are too kind for your own good. How can anyone sleep if we are all piled on top of one another? {He sighs.} I want to be there for both of you, but that requires me getting back on my feet. I have a reason - a purpose - so I believe it can be done.

Edited 2017-12-06 02:35 (UTC)

[He watches Vincent sort his thoughts, wishing he could help, despite having left near everyone else to their own devices in his time, but Vincent is special to him. He always has been. There's no doubt in his mind that if he hadn't been what he is to the man, his dedication to the Phantomhive line would not have been nearly as involved as it was now.]

You've put me through nothing, milord. If anything, I failed you in that I didn't see your tragedy coming. I'd like you not to blame yourself for anything here what befalls me. We both know there isn't anything you could have done to prevent it.

[The look, while not lost on him, isn't acknowledged either. He takes his own seat and reaches for one of the cookies Vincent had set out a few moments before and shrugs.]

You might be surprised. Your boy has managed it time and time again. [One bite of that cookie later.] As I've said, you needn't do this alone. Your persistence is admirable, but I have my concerns that you'll stumble. Nothing against your character, of course, but this isn't anything that you've been prepared for at any point in your educated and sophisticated life. You were murdered, your wife stolen from you. For all we know, the Queen herself arranged it, but still, here we are.

{A father that doesn't wish to be called father. Vincent is blessed and he has two major reasons to not give into his grief and his guilt. Three, actually, if he counts his own nature. He has never been the sort to give in; if he sought a goal, he put all of his ambition into acquiring it. For now, his goal is to be strong again.}

None of my contacts warned me of it. Either they were paid off by those responsible or they did not know.

{He smiles weakly, leaning forward to claim a piece of cake.} He can manage anything he so desires. I just want him to be happy and healthy. Pushing himself to be an Earl and Watch-Dog might weaken him too much.

{And then there is another early demise for the Phantomhives.}

Stumbling is human. {His eyes widen and his throat feels suddenly dry.} What evidence is there against Her Majesty? Why would she wish to - ?

[That will forever tug at his guilt, having been what he was to the Earl and having missed all of it. It wasn't his fault alone, if he thought of it rationally, or even his fault at all, but it still bothered him. It always would. But he finished the cookie off in a second bite and was done with it.]

For their sake, when I return home, they had best pray that they were among those who did not know. It's still a mystery I've yet to unravel myself, but your son hasn't made much headway regarding it either. We've been searching each on our own terms.

[He won't bother to speak on it more. They're in no place here or now to do much about it, so why worry? There are more pressing matters to attend, such as what they're going to do about Ciel.] He has been doing well so far in that aspect, you'll be happy to hear. There is the demon who has been helping him along, unfortunately, but where we are now, he won't accept my help, and I'm in no position to offer him what he needs.

[But the thought of the Queen having been at fault. He grins widely and shrugs once more.] Oh, I don't know. I just don't like her, but I'd like a reason to see her reign end.

{The cake is picked at, but Vincent seems reluctant to eat. His nap has done wonders for him - and he feels much stronger - but with being more aware comes the crushing descent of regret, mostly. He knows there was nothing he could do for his family - being so ill informed - but he has no one else to blame but himself. If only he could execute those involved...those who knew and did not speak...

He wonders if that will even be enough.} You will get to the bottom of it. We simply need to be patient. I think you understand the frustration that the dead might feel, however. If I could become a vengeful spirit, I would!

I am proud of what he has done, but the presence of a demon frightens me. I have never met one and so this beast is entirely unknown to me. {And Sebastian has direct access to his little son - and his little son's soul.} His impudence enrages me.

{Yet, outwardly, Vincent remains calm in appearance.}

She has stretched her influence across the world. If her reign ends, it will be because of her death.

[He sees that picking. At this distance, if he had missed it, he'd be more concerned about himself than past regrets. Rather than calling it out, he watches it happen, fascinated with the way that Vincent prods at his snack.]

Wise words. Patience is much of it, and timing. The rest will reveal itself one way or another. For now, the demon is controlled, even if it isn't here. It's nothing to concern yourself with unless it ever does show its face, but they're little more than wolves starving in the wild.

[Calm as the Earl tries to remain, he knows the man's rage, knows his anger, and knows it's best not to trigger it. His smile changes, flashing a bit more of the anger in his own heart, but his words show anything but.] Easy, my lord. Easy. Your mind worries about one thing, and I can hardly blame you, but come back to the present. Stay with me here and now.

[Says he, as he can't help but take one more unnecessary snipe at Victoria.] Well... [He giggles. He can't help that either.] I am a grim reaper.

{It's a bad habit, but a nice distraction nonetheless. There is art to picking at food. If one does it right, ingredients separate and one can know the truth of their meal. Similar methods worked on people too.

Licking icing from his finger, he listens to Undertaker's voice. The man has a lulling effect on him and he gives a small smile.}

Hounds can hunt wolves. {Starving wolves might be more dangerous, but they are also weaker.} I will rest easy if you are able to kill it. You will be doing the work Rachel and I wish we could do.

{Seeing Undertaker's anger soothes him even more and he eats larger bites of the cake (though he never forgets his manners).}

I do like being here with you now. {His gaze warms at the giggle and he sips on his tea.} If you think it is best for her to be disposed of, I trust your judgement. I have no love for her; I merely did her bidding.

[One more cookie for him and he'll work on his tea, content that it's cooled enough now that he won't fry his taste buds after one sip.] When the time comes, I'll be all too delighted. I only hope you're there to witness it.

[No love lost there, none at all. Not for the demon and not for the Queen. But one would be harder to get rid of than the other, and that wasn't something lost on him either. No one would miss the demon, but the Queen? Half of England would be in arms over her loss, the living and the dead alike, and that was such a shame.]

She'll be harder to do away with, you know. Not that I mind. Her death will be simple. One movement in, one swipe, one movement out, but even that will take planning. As long as she doesn't try anything drastic with your son, I suppose I can permit her to breathe. But it is rather fun to see her outfoxed by a boy of fourteen.

In some way, I will be. {He gives Undertaker a rather mysterious grin, though it is absolutely impish too.} The Afterlife cannot be so exciting that I am distracted from that sight.

{He should be more upset at the idea of Victoria's death. He really must be a terrible British citizen! But it is possible she knows what became of his dearest family. All he needs to do is remember the look of terror on Rachel's face and remember his horror at the thought of his twin sons alone and unprotected to lose his affection for her.}

Keep watch. Openings can be arranged. {The tea cup is set down with a small click.} He is your grandson and my son. Of course he can outfox a monarch.

[Through the reaper's haze, he can make out that grin and it mutes his own, noting the tone in it and the comment made after. He had been the one trying to pull Vincent's mind back to the present and now he finds his own wandering to and fro where it isn't welcome.]

[Rather than offering a response of his own, this time he works on his tea, keeping the cup between both hands just to hold it there. It's not the fine porcelain that the Phantomhives had been used to, but he'd insisted on it not being something so high class. He appreciated it now more than anything.]

In another world, of course. For now, while I'm allowed to be a little selfish, I want only for you to enjoy your son again and for him to know you as he always should have. I would even leave the house for a few days to give you time to yourselves, if I thought it would be needed, but I think one of you might protest.

I would protest. {Just so they are clear. Vincent grabs a cookie and takes a small bite, chewing thoughtfully.} You belong in your home.

{...with your family. He holds off from adding that, a brief flicker of amusement crossing his features. He hid the expression for the most part behind his tea cup as he took another sip.}

We can enjoy one another. As the weather grows colder, we can find ways of keeping one another warm. {A fireplace, blankets and close proximity comes to mind.} He and I are still strangers, but that will not always be so. I love him and I can wait.

[He nods, as if he had expected the response, and he had, at least for the protest. It's still a little strange to him in some way to hear that he has a home, but he'd helped to make the purchase. It could be nothing else.]

If you protest, I know your boy will. I'm outnumbered, I fear. What's left for me but to stay and watch you learn each other again? I'll just sit quietly aside, read a book, yell at Albert, sleep on the couch. [He grinned, knowing good and well that might also spark a protest.]

Two to one, dear fellow, are not good odds. {He pointed a fork teasingly, eyes narrowing.} Albert? Is there someone living here I have yet to meet?

{Please tell him the tragic tale of Albert! His life is not complete without it!}

[He giggles, and that is his only response to his odds. He knows he is well and truly defeated in that department. There was never any hope for him to begin with, resist though he might.]

[But what he does give is a look of shock and an exaggerated gasp.] My lord! How have you not seen him? He has been here since before even you arrived, though not by much longer.

[He scoots his chair back and gets himself up to go retrieve a life sized false skeleton prop from the chair in a corner beside the fireplace, still on display from the Halloween decorations he and Ciel had acquired.] Here we are! Meet Albert. [He sits the skeleton in one of the empty chairs at the table and lifts a wrist to wave its hand.]

Albert, meet Earl Vincent Phantomhive. I'm such a shameful host! I can't believe I forgot to introduce the two of you. And you've been living in the same house this whole time! [Giggling to himself, he sits back in his own chair and takes a sip from his tea like it's nothing.] There now. That's better.

{Amusement and shock mingle when he hears Undertaker's sincere outcry. Well! If he is missing out on a new friend, he must be corrected immediately!}

I may have seen him if he has not hidden himself. {Sure enough, he has seen Albert. Vincent gets up and examines the skeleton, smiling. He takes the bony hand and gives it a proper shake.} Well me, Albert! You are a dapper gentleman, though I fear you need a little more to eat.

{Come on, that surely deserves another laugh!}

Why Albert? {Named for Victoria's consort, perhaps?} He does have a look of royalty about him.

[Oh, it does, and indeed it gets one, both in that Vincent is playing along and in that it's really just humorous all around. He turns a look back on the plastic skeleton and wiggles a finger at him.] See? Even he agrees with me!

[He looks back at Vincent with a sigh and a shake of his head.] I tell him that all the time but will he heed me? No. He tells me he's just fine as he is. [And, as if to quite any argument, he waves a hand at the skeleton.] I know, I know, you are a handsome man, but goodness knows you do need to put on a little weight.

[He grins back at Vincent and shakes his head again.] Oh, no, hardly. People can share the same name, milord. He just looks like an Albert, doesn't he?

How can I not? {He grins and gently lowers the hand to rest beside Albert. Then he pats the skeleton's shoulder.} We have some fine treats here, friend. Try them? You might develop a sweet tooth!

{There is no better way to gain a lot of weight quickly. Why must the world be so cruel?}

I can't quite put my finger on why he looks like an Albert, but you are right! {He walks around the table and kisses the top of Undertaker's head affectionately.} He makes it difficult not to like him.

[He grins and snags a last cookie and pushes the plate closer to the skeleton, as if he thought the prop might just sigh and agree with them finally and stuff his face. It doesn't happen, but he can dream.]

It seems to run in the family, with us at least, but something tells me Albert isn't related to you. He'd probably like to fill himself up on something else, but I've yet to find what.

[The kiss is met with a soft hum, eyes closing briefly to savor it. Seems the Earl might be trying to make that a habit, and he wonders at returning the gesture when he has an opportunity.] I find I like his company well enough. We've had quite a debate a time or two. He's very spirited.

{If only. Vincent would have laughed if Albert had taken on the challenge of eating all the cookies on the plate! Of course one has to wonder where the skeleton would have put the chewed crumbs, but details.}

So I have you to blame! {His comment is half-hearted and mirth dances in his dark eyes. Then he is giving the other man some overdue affection, grinning against the silver hair. Oh he will make a habit of it!}

Debates can be very enjoyable. What does he say that leaves you so heated?

[He would have laughed as well, and not because a plastic skeleton had just taken it upon himself to move unaided. Oh no, he has seen things far stranger in his time.]

[The affection doesn't go unnoticed, and he takes that time to lift a hand, fingers curled to gingerly brush over Vincent's shoulder, offering something back for what is given. If he's an affectionate sort with the reaper, Undertaker has no qualms with it. His other senses pull the weight where his vision is slacking, and touch and little respect for personal space with certain individuals have been a thing for him for quite some time.]

I won't argue that. I've been fond of sweets myself. [With his free hand, he gestures at the skeleton again.] Chocolate or vanilla, one time. Then another he tried to argue with me that socks taste better than a salad. It's always food with us, but he does always seem to catch me while I'm in the kitchen.

{Vincent is fairly sure he has seen stranger in his time too. They just need to give Albert some "skin". Maybe a sleeping bag would help? Or a set of those pajamas that are made from one piece of material?

He glances at the hand on his shoulder and gives it quick nuzzle. Personal space is not something he subscribes to either. If he feels like being affectionate or close to someone, he will be. He especially likes the smaller touches; their bodies are not built to be alone! The pleasure of contact is one he will never tire of feeling.}

Now I know why it took me so long to accept my vegetables. {Regaining his seat, he chuckles.} Chocolate, obviously, and socks are meant for feet, Albert. Unless... Is that how he perished? Socks are not digestible, surely?

[That nuzzle warms a place in his chest from the inside out, reaffirming acceptance in what there is, even if it isn't necessary by now. He continues to watch their guest, but it's Vincent's footsteps that he follows, tracking the man's movements, curious to see where he goes.]

It's a child's fear, vegetables. That much isn't inherited, I'm not sorry to say. The love for chocolate? Perhaps, and there is where he and I disagree. [But about the socks? He tilts his head at the Earl, then back at the skeleton.] And on the socks as well! I hadn't thought to ask how he died. Most don't like to recount such events, but what a way to go if it was! I can only imagine. How hungry were you, that you would eat a sock and yet you reject sweets?

{There is nothing for Undertaker to fear on that score. Vincent is surprised by all that has been revealed, of course, but he is secretly delighted too. No matter what Undertaker says or does, he cherishes the idea of having a father who not only takes an interest in his activities, but also seems to genuinely care about his well-being. He has no desire to ask for more and the other man will swiftly know that the care is returned with interest.}

They do look so strange. {He gathers himself a glass of water and brings it back to the table.} Vanilla can be delicious, but it does not have the draw of chocolate when it stands alone.

{He turns to Albert, expression a little more sedate.} You would need to be starving. Of course it would either catch in your throat or your intestines. If things cannot move and there is no room for air, well, that is a nasty death.

Edited 2017-12-06 07:36 (UTC)

video | un: undertaker

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)