The shop had been eerily quiet, even for a Sunday morning. Being a florist has its perks - the store always smells pretty, the bright colors contrast each other in a rainbow of displays, and flowers are versatile to be used for anything. From apologies, to anniversaries, to funerals, to threats - Oh! How Millicent loved them. Loved the way they are a fleeting gesture in such a larger scheme of the world.
A bell chimes as the door opens, and her attention is drawn to the front of the shop. "Hello, dear florist!" The words were drawn out into a laugh of their own as her favorite business partner graces the doorstep.
"Undertaker! How kind of you to visit me. I was beginning to believe that you were cursed to never leave your shop." Shaking a perfectly pruned rose at him, Millicent moves to tuck it into the arrangement she had been tasked with creating by a nobleman who was caught cheating on his wife.
A wild cackle leaves the silver haired man as he brings his sleeve up to hide his grin. "One would believe so - but alas, here I am." Entering the shop, the towering man brushes his long black nails over the petals as he walks.
"What brings you by? Not that I could ever be complaining." Millicent abandons her project to approach Undertaker. She tilts his chin with her finger, moving in jagged ways to try and see his eyes. Anything to guess what's hiding behind his expression.
"You have a new client, don't you?"
The only answer she receives is a large grin, followed by a wild cackle.
"What kind of wild arrangement did they ask for this time?" The black haired woman cocks a brow in his direction, her arms coming to cross loosely over her abdomen.
"New client, no - an old friend is in need of some help. I fear you may have the answer." Producing a newspaper from the inside of his cloak, Undertaker presents Millicent with a story of a noble coming to an untimely death.
"Last time was on me. The usual payment, if you would, please." Tilting her head back, Millicent stares down her nose at the man before accepting the newspaper to read it over.
Without hesitation, Undertaker clears his throat. What follows next could only be described as a beautiful ballad sung of an unearthly beauty. A smile crosses the woman's lips as she hugs the newspaper to her chest, her eyes falling shut as she sways to his song.
Once finished, a sigh of satisfaction leaves slightly parted lips before she hands the paper back to her friend. "He came into my shop yesterday requesting that bouquet you see on my counter. Cheated on his wife with a new mistress, and I suppose one of them found out. Which one, I cannot say, but I presume you will be residing over the body?"
"He is currently resting in my shop. Thank you, Millie. One of these days, you and my friend should meet."
Millicent turns her cheek to the Undertaker, tapping the pale skin expectantly. The man steps forward and places a languid kiss on her cheek, giggling as he does so.
"Send him by. I am sure that someone in his life could use some flowers." Millicent smiles as Undertaker takes his leave from the shop, leaving her to finish a bouquet for a dead man and prep for a funeral for the same.
Papers strewn about an otherwise tidy desk. A fire lit in the hearth to fend off the impending night chill. A cup of tea being left to go cold. Ciel Phantomhive rests in his high back leather chair with a fist propping up his chin, a tired expression gracing his aging features as brows furrow in frustration. "What ties them all together?"
His butler stands beside the door, calmly awaiting his masters orders and listening to his confused ramblings. "It may be time to revisit an old friend, young master."
Eyes dart up as blue meets crimson, but Ciel is only met with a common smirk. "Yes. We will leave for London first thing tomorrow mornings."
"Yes, my lord." Sebastian bows ever so slightly to his master, before turning to leave the room and prep for Ciel's turning in for the night.
The English countryside passes without a care for the young earl as he stares out the window of the carriage. Many of his fellow nobles had been suddenly appearing dead, with no connections beneath the surface other than the usual societal expectation. It has been tormenting the dear Queen for weeks, and since Scotland Yard has proven to be useless, it has fallen to the duty of the Queens Guard Dog to follow up on the case.
Visiting the Undertaker is never high on the list of things that Ciel prefers to do. Visiting London in itself is an annoyance, but to have to resort to extracting information from that man… it sends a shudder down his spine at the thought of just what they may need to do to get their info.
Sebastian opens the door to the carriage for the earl once they arrive before the shop. A small bell announces their arrival and prompts the Undertaker to produce from a back room.
"Ah! My dear Earl, and Mr. Butler, too! What a wonderful surprise." The silver haired man sings out, swaying as he approaches the pair. With a wicked grin, he eyes Ciel, so grown from the days he once cherished so. Soon Ciel will be marrying Lizzy and producing a successor to his title, truly coming into his own.
"Undertaker. I am to assume you know why we are here." Ciel holds his usual cool demeanor as the elder brushes his cheek with long nails. Despite the lack of a threat, Sebastian steps forward, his eyes never leaving the pair.
"But do I? For knowledge so bountiful, there is a hefty price." The Undertaker taps his lip, staring between the two to see just who will step forward. "However… This is not my knowledge to share, for it has been partially supplied by another."
"Another?" Ciel states in shock, taking a half step forward. "Who could you possibly be sharing secrets with?"
"Am I not allowed to have other friends?" Undertaker laughs at their shocked expressions, rearing his head back in his fit. "Despite not requiring payment, you have given me enough. What is it you wish to know?"
"We are sure you are aware of the missing nobles as of late. What is it that you have found?" Sebastian steps forward, his hand resting lightly over his chest, a calm smile gracing his lips. He decide it best to address their case before deciding to find out more about this friend.
"Those silly nobles. According to my friend, the most recent was having an affair that may have lead to his untimely demise. From my findings, it was poison, specifically formulated into a cream that was applied to our dear noble's lips." The Undertaker takes a seat on one of the coffins, carefully running his hand over the details of it as he speaks.
"Cream applied to the lips…" Ciel repeats as he places a finger on his chin, allowing himself to fall deeper into thought. "Almost like a lipstick or a balm?"
The Undertaker simply giggles in return, raising an oversized sleeve to cover the bottom half of his face.
"This friend of yours. What other information could they possibly provide?"
"Ah, she could tell you much - but I must warn you, her price is much more hefty than my own."
"I fail to see how that could be possible." Ciel's eye twitches at the elder, only to be laughed at once more. "Where can we find this friend of yours?"
"The florist on the corner of King's street. Tell her I sent you."
