Cold and Wrathful are I
The sirens allure the sailors to their impending doom whereas the fiend comes in the middle of the night. . .seeking for the delicious nectar of his life. What a sweet scent to possess and yet so far to reach. Come to relax your worries and enjoy your stay in the Phantomhive mansion.

Kuroshitsuji Indie Role Playing Blog for Sebastian Michaelis

Warning: Possible Gore, NSFW, Horrific themes will play out with character

Tracked Tags: faustianshitsuji
The Butler’s Duties ✖6/27/2013✖

                It appears I owe a couple of responses to these wonderful guests of the Phantomhive mansion. I do apologize for the delay but…as you can fairly note, this butler is quite busy with other tasks to focus directly. Now then…let us commence the performance and have this Danse Macabre…shall we?

                      The order of these little dances shall not be as determined from the list. Be aware of the butler’s obligations to be noticeable in another presence.

The Butler’s Duties ✖6/20/2013✖

                It appears I owe a couple of responses to these wonderful guests of the Phantomhive mansion. I do apologize for the delay but…as you can fairly note, this butler is quite busy with other tasks to focus directly. Now then…let us commence the performance and have this Danse Macabre…shall we?

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                      The order of these little dances shall not be as determined from the list. Be aware of the butler’s obligations to be noticeable in another presence.

what-kindofbutlerwouldibe:

 Kuroshitsuji - 82 

mo-mao:

Only a few words could be understood, it still wasn’t enough to understand. Her words were either of service, or common children’s words. 

“I don’t know.”

                The butler placed a hand over his forehead and nearly forgotten a key detail; the language of English has yet to be understood from her knowledge. It can’t be helped if her origins were from China so this is an opportunity to display the language to his best of capabilities from common affairs residing in centuries ago. With a smile, the butler gave a bow to the lady before speaking in her tongue.

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                “我没有意识到你的舌头越早道歉,但我需要你的东西。似乎有一个问题,一个包从中国到并且考虑。你可以跟我一起去的位置和说明包的重要性,所以我可以检索它?”

『Translation: I apologize for not realizing your tongue sooner, but there is something I need from you. There seems to be an issue with a package from China to take consideration into. Can you come with me to the location and explain the importance of the package so I may retrieve it? 』

                Hopefully this clarification was enough to help the poor girl to understand. He never thought of condoning to this language ever since he assisted one of the emperors from long ago. With a smile, the butler awaited graciously for her response.

desenchantee:

       —- { } Like a predator hunting it’s prey — eyes of bright amethyst fell onto what appeared to be but a mere butler the very second he stepped forth. Yet his stare wasn’t hostile or crazed. No, he was in complete control during the miniature massacre he brought forth. Fingers tightened their hold on the cross only to have the item chucked in the man’s very direction. It missed as he deliberately intended, letting it get stuck within the wall behind the unexpected guest. The words which flowed forth caused a thin brow to raise but the beauty listened rather intently — taking in every word which was provided.
“C’est un plaisir, Monsieur Michaelis.” He spoke, voice soft once eyes narrowed under thick lashes; falling over the man’s frame and then rising back up to those eyes of his favorite color. This person was handsome and held an alluring air to him but alas he was no vampire like the one nicknamed the Devil. He was no angel either, their scent far too soft and sweet. So it would seem he were within the company of one a Devil by his very nature.

“Had they been more durable than this would have lasted much longer — and perhaps been much more delightful. This was a bore if not a chore. Fruitful if not for the organs they possess.” Spoken to prove that he knew the language he had refrained from speaking earlier; the very accent of native French spilling over each vowel and curling his tongue. “I am Judit Marriane. I do believe this is the first time a being of your magnitude has approached me quite so cheerfully. Should I feel honored?” And here he thought that demons were unable to enter God’s domain and property. It would seem He was either slacking or that the one before him was strong enough to resist the very notion of whatever barriers would be placed to keep him out.

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       “But do pardon me or a moment, Monsieur. I have to stop this tedious burning at my throat.” With a small hum, the Frenchman adjusted the cloak about his slender frame before moving to one of the fallen corpses. The one of the hunters if he wasn’t mistaken — ah, yes, the one with the strongly bitter blood now fallen still in his veins. Bending down to let a hand curl about a throat to bring the man up ever so slightly; the other merely brought him closer until lips could ghost over the exposed neck — the corpse’s head thrown back lifelessly. Eyes had flickered from the flesh to the one-man audience. Surely a sight such a this wouldn’t be at all too grotesque to someone whom probably ripped the spines from the highest of mortals in his free time. So no more time was spared before lips pulled back to expose matured fangs. The sight of them was brief before they hid away in the flesh of another — greedily burying themselves in. Marriane preferred the struggle and feeling of a racing heart against his chest but this will have to do before the blood becomes soiled and tasteless. Once he deemed that he had the quantity he wanted — he pulled away and wet his lips to let a tongue catch whatever drops may have been missed. With a sound of satisfaction, the some tongue ran over the wound of the deceased to let the wound heal — habit to ensure the people living here wouldn’t have a sort of uprising.

       Dropping the corpse carelessly, he looked turned back to the demonic being. Pale skin seemed to regain color and warmth them; nature color adding onto rosy cheeks and lips which had curled up into a ghost of a smile. “Now — you were saying~?”

                Nothing could be made from this point but it seems the being here meant no harm. It was the nature of those fiends to possess of either killing to find a purpose or for absolute pleasure. This one didn’t appear to have killed for pleasure…was he truly seeking something or even someone in his life? A terrible notion to possess—humanity itself is not a sugar coat which should remain for long. Perhaps a true form should be best for this encounter; no…this was a butler of his word to keep a suitable form. The ‘other’ was far grotesque, even this man could succumb on his knees to his presence. Succumb…of fear and a mere beg to be sparred; no…this fiend has lived for far too long and only the Black Plague was his last performance. Death itself was nothing but a gruesome topic to even be presented by, with little to no concern. Crimson hues gazed upon each of the corpses while thinking of his thoughts until the male replied in a soft voice. Ah—what a beautiful French accent he possessed; perhaps a proper combination of tongue could be offered. It had been quite some time to roll his tongue into the accent of all the Kings who ruled England.

                “Oui, cher Monsieur Marriane. Un doux nom que vous portez et ont été baptisés. Au contraire…c’est un honneur d’être honoré par votre présence. Please do not see me as something grand—for I am nothing but a humble butler who is currently retired of his duties. I merely roam around this place as a way of venturing out until the end greets me with its cold breath. Though killing alone isn’t a current activity to do; lest a proper dance should be graced. Grounds as this are holy though I never seem to have a problem with stepping foot. Nonetheless, shall I grace you with a proper scenery than what is offered here? I believe this is but the chore you truly wish to befall those assuring eyes of loneliness and despair. Come have this dance with me when you are finished with the business.”

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                Adjusting a finger over his chin, the fiend kindly allowed the other to take care of the poor torment he was experiencing. My…what a magnificent sight; for a little crow as himself, this was nothing but a grotesque but beautiful moment being witnessed. He couldn’t help but put a small smile and yet lingers onto a somewhat despaired look to his eyes. Sympathy for humans or sympathy for the poor being who could perhaps be obligated to kill…who knows which came first. Both sides were the enemy and victim: all rolled into one package. The deed has been done yet again though something was taken notice of the other; ah a noticeable flush to his cheeks onto a pale complexion? My my…how very intriguing though it could have been an unnecessary reaction. Could it be that the fiend has earned the attractable attention he possibly deserved? That smile could have been misleading but a nice gesture to form after the mere blush. Extending out a gloved hand towards the man, he carefully placed it over the rosy cheeks to give a small stroke to them. He always enjoyed to give a little teases now and then, perhaps giving them a romanticism affect.

                “Monsieur Marriane, how suitable your face is without the blood petals to taint these perfect cheeks. Would you care to offer this mere servant a little dance? Surely you have no other plans with another or…am I given permission to steal you away? I am assure you I have no plans to harm this perfect figure of yours, so long as I live this realm of a cruel reality.”