KIROKAZE
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@givemealaugh
Tombstone tourist (otherwise known as a "taphophile", “cemetery enthusiast”, cemetery tourists or “grave hunter” or “graver”) describes an individual who has a passion for and enjoyment of cemeteries. This involves epitaphs, gravestone rubbing, photography, art, and history of (famous) deaths. The term has been most notably used by author and biographer Scott Stanton. Cemetery tourists can be interested in the historical aspects of cemeteries or the historical relevance of its inhabitants.
It comes from the Greek word τάφος (taphos) meaning grave and also the Greek word φίλος (philos / philia) meaning friend or admirer.
"Happy Halloween, everyone!"
"Guess who I am?? Eheheheee!~"
Back in London, this time on an impromptu trip with her auntie. She’d promised the girl that this trip would be only for Sunako’s enjoyment— no tormenting or nagging about being a proper lady. A breath of relief, really.
This afternoon her aunt had let her meander about the city, spook a few people, and venture off into the little pawn shops that dotted the sidelines of downtown London. Her gaze fell upon a shop that immediately caught her interest: Undertaker. A loud squeal followed by a sprint, Sunako entered the shop with a wicked grin plastered on her face.
"THIS— THIS IS PARADISE FOR THE CREATURE OF DARKNESS," Sunako rasped, rushing over to one of the many coffins that lay open on their stands.
The Undertaker tilted his head in macabre amusement as the tiny creature skittered about his shop, eliciting oohs and aahs from her tiny throat. A grin curled the long, dry spread of his lips as he ghosted to stand beside her whilst she leaned over an open casket in apparent fascination and awe.
"...aah.. so you have a soft spot for my particular brand of 'guests' as well..." He ventured a guess by the context clues; the twinkle in her eyes, the adoration illuminating her expression as she gazed down into the freshly made face of his most recent and beautiful visitor; Eponine. It had been quite some time since the mortician had found a kindred spirit.
"W-Well, you seemed to have disappeared, Sir, and I know that the young master would not appreciate having guests wander the manor," she explained, bowing her head while her cheeks reached a healthy scarlet shade. "So please forgive me for sounding rude, but I was worried."
Clearing her throat, Mey Rin smoothed out some of the wrinkles in her clothes and looked at the Undertaker curiously. “You still wished to have the sugar, yes? I have that prepared for you.”
"Ahh, yes yes!" He assured vehemently, curling his hands to wring one another in anticipation beneath his hunched shoulders.
"It's a matter of true urgency!" Which would explain why he was wasting time meandering about the mansion in exploration, sans permission.
"Correct," there is a moment’s pause, waxen lips curling upward in its wake, "as always.” The demon’s tone is drawn out, an almost mocking purr residing in each syllable, much to the contrast of his footfalls, which were nothing more than a staccato firm and curt. Simultaneously and in uniform, the steward stops. He ceases speaking and movement at once, heels together, toes apart, expression now blank, and with his hands folded neatly behind his back. It is only then that he begins again.
"The young master sends his sincerest apologies for not being present himself." And that is that. Sebastian fails to provide reason, or even a hint to it. "Now, perhaps you can tell me about one Elise Tadlocke." He cants his head to the left, expression failing to so much as shift. "A recent death, rather young girl, died of multiple lacerations to the torso and neck."
And the Earl's absence was much to the Undertaker's chagrin. Not only was his favorite little noble not present, but in his place was the mortician's least favored servants; the demon. His smile fell off and was replaced by a grimacing frown. Well, that curt and boring tone wasn't very fun at all. However, his words certainly were. The retired reaper's smile was quick to return, splitting his face in morbid amusement.
"Ah ah ah~" He tutted through a fit of giggles. "..now now, Butler, you know my price! You'll have to give me... that.."
At least the demon was an apt comic.
Joker’s eyes fell from one deathly face to the other, wondering what could have possibly lead them to such an outcome. Faces that looked so young and youthful, the world must really be falling into pieces if the lively were passing in place of the decaying. It was only pitiful.
“ Trust me, I lost my love long before I entered this shop,” a chuckle that rang hollow; memories of a past he didn’t desire to particularly remember. Not now, anyways. "Actually, I came in lookin’ for my sis. ‘Ave ya seen her? Mane of black curls, ruby red lips? Feisty, to say the least?"
Sister, hm? Well, he'd pegged that one wrong... from one end, at least. Perhaps unrequited love was the solution to the puzzle with which he'd been presented. Oh well; it was regardless. In the end, the flamboyant boy had still put forth a question... and the Undertaker never relinquished the information he had for free.
"Alas," He sighed in false woe, "...I'm not at liberty to disclose any information on my visitors."
"...for free...~"
Undertaker • アンダーテイカー
“How sad it would be, should laughter disappear.”
Reblog if you roleplay in paragraphs
Books float on the street after a library on Rue Jacob, Paris is flooded during the Great 1910 Parisian Flood . (via historicaltimes)
"Welcome to my shop.." He hummed as the dreary looking girl entered his makeshift mortuary.
"What do you want, undertaker?" ,said Ciel exasperatedly.
"The real question, dear Earl, is what you desire.." He giggled in that low, disturbing chortle. "..after all, you certainly wouldn't visit my shop without reason to benefit your own aspirations.. Not even just for a little tea!" He simultaneously reasoned and complained.
{❀} “Oh.. no I suppose that it’t not.” Finny shifted nervously, rubbing the back of his neck and tugging at his collar. It was almost too east to forget his place as a servant when curiosity got the better of him.
"That's quite alright, dear boy.." He hummed, tossing the tiny bottle quite carelessly in the curious blonde's vicinity.
"..after all, how do we know our boundaries unless we push them?"
CLOSED RP with givemealaugh
Thomas smiled as the man offered him the tea, a bit perplexed by the method of how it was being held. “Thank you, sir,” he said, sitting in the chair. “This is all very nice of you!”
"Not at all~" He insisted with a flippant wave of his pallid, bony hand. "..it's so rare that I have such a talkative guest!" He grinned. And it was true. ..as...most of his guests didn't speak in the most commonplace of manners. Though it was no matter to him, of course!
“Mr. Undertaker!" she cried out, her face wrinkled into an angry pout as she spotted him inside of the game room. She was trying hard to catch her breath, heaving as a hand grasped the board of the doorway. "There you are!"
She wanted very much to be angry with him for disappearing like that and making her panic over getting into some serious trouble with the young lord. But it was improper of her to voice such an opinion, so she remained quiet after her initial outburst.
"Hmmm?~" He preened as the waylaid maid made her entrance. Not even the shaggy length of his bangs could mask the leering grin that curling his cheeks, sharpening them substantially.
"So very loud for a house maid..~" He teased, taking dignified note of her change in disposition when she'd realized the level of her own volume. His teeth peered through his thin, stretched set of lips. "..of course, here I am. Where else would I be but where I am?"
{♛} —; The Earl’s absolute lack of amusement was clear within the dulled ire of his visible azure optic, halfway prepared to lean his sharpened chin forward into the pallid palm of his brittle hand in impatience—
…And then, as he so often and easily appeared to, the Mortician shattered the young Noble’s concepts of acceptable reasoning. To…retain it…? The mere notion was…impossible! Wasn’t it…?
Perhaps he should have discerned after so many years that nothing was impossible, beneath the blankets of supernaturality and demonic possessions. If Grim Reapers roamed the earth…perhaps eternal youth was no such feat to overcome. All the same, it seemed that the man had no intention of humoring the boy any further—
—Though, that had never stopped Ciel before, under any premise. At the very least, he would press further once more for an answer, even in vain; He simply wasn’t the sort of person who released his determination so easily. A stubborn child… “…?! Wait! What do you mean by that, Undertaker? Retain their youth…? Are you insinuating that this may be the results of cult activity?” And oh, that storm would bring so much more down upon the child than a simple case of gendercide…
Such a persistent boy! Just like his father. The mortician chuckled to himself, threading his fingers through one another as he chided the young Earl.
"..Now now, Earl! A puzzle's hardly any fun if you're given all the pieces right at the start! You'll have to come back when you have a different question for me.. And your next joke had better be even funnier! Phoenix!! Honeslty! AHAHAHAHA!!!"