|I ✝ I| @pactumanimusus |I ✝ I| Closed Starter
At long last, the creature was well out of sight. It wasn’t that Undertaker didn’t fancy his presence, no… As a matter of fact, that was putting it mildly, for there was little else in the world he despised more than the deviant. Little else, if anything at all — save, perhaps, for horrible jokes. Incidentally, both the louse && buffoonery had this one peculiar quality of souring the taste in his mouth. A tough choice to be made, picking one over the other, but a decision he wasn’t about to pore over like a pilgrim to a map unless absolutely necessary, which it wasn’t.
❝ Well then, Eaaarl~ ❞ Undertaker drawled in his unnerving falsetto, ever edging on mirth. ❝ I never imagined you had it in yourself to be up for the challenge. What brought this about, I wonder... Does the Earl get competitive when it comes to his butler, mm? ❞
Soon after playfully nudging the boy’s soft cheek a couple of times as if aiming to press a switch that would make the frown go away, his steps abandoned the Earl’s closeness in favor of a dark birch wood desk with chipped lacquer from the years, where he sat right behind && helped himself to yet another bone-shaped biscuit. The one grin that stretched itself from ear to ear flashed a row of inexplicably white teeth beneath -- already, it would have been lies && slander to claim he wasn’t having the time of his life at the mere thought of the Earl’s upcoming attempts to trickle him delighted.
