Karl Gercens
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@somethingoncelost-blog
Karl Gercens
"You and your kind do not deserve the earth which you stand upon, you're destructive, manipulative vermin that need to be vanquished."
”These sound like the bitter words of a reaper.
Try as you might, there will never be a species that thrives without bloodshed.
It’s the aesthetic of this world—human or not.”
Do you prefer sleeping in late or getting up early? Staying up late or going to be early?
"Due to the nature of my work, waking up early and staying up late is relatively normal.
I suppose if it were to change, I'd rather retire earlier. It seems my days tend to be quite long otherwise."
Even though we just started rping: ツ
Send me a ツ if you like how I portray my character.
Thank you so much! ;u ;
dlcvita replied to your post:ツツツツツツツツツツツ ~(‾⌣‾~)
You’re my bias.
Naturally.
ツツツツツツツツツツツ ~(‾⌣‾~)
Send me a ツ if you like how I portray my character.
I will accept this compliment, even though it is biased as hell. B|
❀—- ;; Nanami froze. This kid was a brat. She frowned, her everlasting smile fading away. “Listen here,” she started, voice trembling with mixed fear and anger. “I’m trying to make you laugh. The least you can do is pretend.”
Pretend?
The notion itself brought up delicate thoughts, and he lost the words on his tongue that sounded the thought that, in theory, pretending for any reason held no true purpose for him. Pretending to laugh at a joke that wasn't funny for a woman he hadn't even got the name of--well, it certainly didn't strike him as an act he should waste his time with performing.
"You won't. I suggest you learn to pick your battles, Miss.
You're merely wasting my time."
❀—- ;; ”A-Ah! But don’t you want to hear another joke?!” Nanami frantically began to think of something. ”W-Why did the tomato blush?” “Because it saw the salad dressing!”
"Since you're so generous with your 'jokes', may I offer you some advice?"
He paused, tapping his finger impatiently atop his desk.
"Should anyone offer you a job as a jest--- Say no."
❀—- ;; “…Yes…” Nanami had thought that was a good joke.
"If that was all,"
He waved his hand, dismissing the girl in hopes she didn't have any other 'jokes' in such bad taste.
"A servant will show you out."
get out
Send me “Get out.” for my characters reaction to yours telling them a terrible joke.
"Was I supposed to enjoy that?"
"Oh please~ I’m as discreet as I need be, besides I’m simply asking to satiate my little curiosities~. Surely you’re as aware as I that to see you out on your own is a rare occurrence?” She purred with a raised brow, her head giving an almost innocent looking tilt to the side.
"My butler is a servant, not a crutch. I can do just fine on my own.
My outings do not require an explanation-- no matter how curious."
somethingoncelost
The Phantomhive brat again, it seemed like she had a habit of running into him whenever he was alone. Oh well, his appearance usually signaled a bit of excitement for her. “So the little brat’s come out on his own again? I wonder~ what’s so intriguing that it would your call your personal~ attention to it?” She called with a mocking grin.
This game again. Truly, he wasn't all that interested in playing this time.
"You again, Sutcliff--?
If I were you, I'd be more discreet, seeing as these habitual 'visits' are becoming quite suspicious."
Oh no no no; this wouldn’t do. This simply would not do at all!
Bursting through the doors of the Phantomhive Earl’s office, the lady does not wait to called upon, but rather, goes right to his desk and slams a piece of paper down upon it.
"Ciel, what is the meaning of this?!"
And within moments, the silence that comfortably settled itself within the walls of his manor were shattered by the "awaited visit" from his fiancée.
Surprise was etched instantly into the young Earl's features. With the paper slamming onto his desk, the quill he was loosely gripping onto dropped gracelessly between his fingers, messily staining a page of homework one of his private tutors assigned to him.
"Lizzie? . . . W--What happened?"
{ ♫ };; Flinches and turns around rather swiftly. Maka sighed shakily and glared at the other. ❝What the hell do you want?❞
Of course, he bumped the girl in a bad, bad mood. His visible eye narrowed toward her, meeting her glare with an equally unpleasant, but almost bored glance.
"Pardon me," he offered, his voice dull, "But standing idly in the middle of a walkway grants no purpose unless you're a guard. So if you could--
Move."
⋨℘⋩~;
“I'm afraid it ᶦˢ absolutely imperative. I have such mandatory words from Her Majesty.”
His stubborn gaze did not falter with her words. Ciel read the assignment given to the both of them, and was confident that her services were lost on him. After all, no one knew what happened when one crossed a Phantomhive--
After all, all that did... ... were not seen again to tell such a tale.
He sighed, bringing his hands together as his elbows rested on his desk. Surely, there had to be a way around this. The Queen requested their collected information to be shared, so they could come to a decision unanimously. Unless.. this was a test of sorts?
Her Majesty had a strange sense of humor.
"Then what have you collected thus far, that could be of use to this investigation?"
The rage bubbling up inside of Alois was too great to fully allow him to perceive just what it was he was doing. He couldn’t see, couldn’t hear. All he could do was repeat his movements over and over, raising the fire poker over his head and slamming it back down on the boy lying crumpled at his feet. Hit, hit, hit, until some unknown force physically stopped his arm from moving.
At first he struggled, not quite registering that something— or someone— was holding him back, but moments later he was snapped back to reality by the velvety sound of a man’s voice, somehow vaguely familiar, and he froze. Blue eyes widened as anger subsided, making way for an icy terror that settled somewhere in his gut. He knew that voice, and the fact that he was hearing it now meant only one thing: his servants had failed.
Everything from that moment on happened in a blur. He didn’t even have a chance to try and escape before Sebastian ripped the weapon from his grip like the blond’s hands were made of putty. Alois was nothing more than a weak and pitiful human. A child. There was no hope of getting out of the way when his attacker was a monster who moved like lightening. All he could do was scream when the sharpened metal pierced his flesh, dug into him as if that were its intended purpose. And then he was coughing, the taste of iron on his tongue, as Sebastian kicked him aside like he weighed nothing at all.
I’m going to die.
He’d never been so sure of anything in his entire life. This was it. He was going to die there, lying in a pile of crumbled marble and plaster, screaming and crying and choking on his own blood. This wasn’t how things were supposed to end. Where was Claude? Why wasn’t he there? Wasn’t it his job to protect Alois? How could he abandon the boy at a time like this? Perhaps his beloved servant never truly cared at all. That thought in itself was almost as painful as the wound in his abdomen, but his fear upon catching sight of Sebastian slowly moving toward him was far more intense.
"W-wait—!" Let the pleading begin. He’d say anything to keep that demon away from him because regardless of his suffering, Alois didn’t want to die. Who knew what would become of him? "P-please don’t! I d-didn’t.. d-didn’t mean t-to do that—!"
The blond made a feeble attempt to push himself up from the floor, but it hurt. Dear God did it hurt. Getting out of there on his own would be completely impossible, and all the while Ciel and his butler showed no sign of mercy. Apparently, the younger boy’s orders were final, though really Alois shouldn’t be surprised. He should have expected this from the second he heard Sebastian’s voice— and perhaps he did, somewhere in his mind— but still he continued to plead, to beg, until suddenly something landed gracefully in front of him, blocking out the fuzzy image of Ciel and Sebastian. Something dark and familiar that towered over him and blocked him from their line of sight like a shield.
"I do apologize," the figure— Claude Faustus— announced in a silky baritone. "But I cannot allow any further harm to befall my master. Surely you understand?"
Ciel also thought this was over. The final frontier, the final battle between master and slave duo – and that he won. The pain from the wounds Alois managed to inflict on him only seemed to sting as the adrenaline pumped through him like hardening steel. He felt invincible with his butler there, tossing the blonde around like a rag doll: an overbearing revenge for the previous events in this haunted place. He won.
Alois’ blood was stained on his hands. He would kill the Trancy Earl tonight. This was the end.
Then, as if slamming a book shut just before the final chapter, Claude Faustus returned to his master, blocking his pathetic body from view. Ciel’s eyes narrowed harshly, glaring at the butler as if that would give him any motive to move. Of course Sebastian couldn’t rid of him while dangling his master’s life on his fingers as well.
“Finish them off!” Ciel barked, swiping his hand demandingly toward Sebastian with the same eager, bloodthirsty look in his eyes. He wanted this finished tonight. He wanted to win—so badly, in fact, that his previous plan to escape was lost on him. The diversion, the breaking apart of the manor, stalling in wait for the right moment; it was a blurred fantasy that only his butler could have kept track of.
Sebastian, with Ciel tightly gripped to him, stood tall against Claude. The manor was continuing to self-destruct on itself, the walls dropping paintings and candles hard against the marble floor. Ciel couldn’t stand the wait, and was about to wail out another order, until Sebastian spoke up, just as sickeningly elegant, in response to the appearance of the other butler.
“While I don’t admire cutting visits short, I do believe it’s time for the Young Master to return home.”
No! Ciel’s eyes widened, his teeth gritting. Listen to me, damn you!
“What the bloody hell happened here?!” a man’s voice exclaimed outside, along with other concerned and sheepish chatter. This caused Ciel to break out of his angered glare, his head snapping toward the sound as the memory of his plan returned to him. As if relieved of that fact, his tense form relaxed, as his mind returned from the shallow depths it entered. Alois triggered something—and that did not settle well with him.
It bothered him. Immensely.
Sebastian took a step forward, then pushed off on his feet and launched into the air, gracefully moving to any windowed exit to remove them both from the scene of a “crime”. The townspeople were there—and what could Alois say? That the Phantomhive Earl blasted his manor to bits? It would sound ridiculous, like utter foolery that would ultimately backfire unto him.
Alois was alive, but terrified—surely, Phantomhive placed his pieces coordinately.
Check.
somethingoncelost liked this
⋨℘⋩~;
“I ᵃˢˢᵘʳᵉ you, I am no more mirthful of the idea of it. But it must be done. ᵂᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᶰᵒ ᶜʰᵒᶦᶜᵉ⋅”
"Even if that is the case, I work alone. You can do this whichever way you please--just leave me out of your agenda unless it's absolutely imperative.
Understood?"