So here we are! I started getting into the series Soul Eater and it was only a matter of time before it came to this! I care, not a bit! If you know me and who I am and how I act you know that my cares go riiiiight over my head, out the window, and into the street where they get run over.
Now then! Before we begin I want to thank my buddy Cecilio for being a bud! Also, he came up with the name of the title so that's a plus. He's also (Most likely) going to be giving tips and stuff on what I should work on/fix. So ya! Here we go!
He walked down the streets of the dark city, his posture straight, formal and with a purpose. Though that was the outside showing. Inside he was without purpose and hope. He had been wandering through multiple towns in hope to sate his Djinn blood. He wanted a Master, someone to give him purpose in life. It has been taught to him young that a Djinn must find their master and serve them forever.
When a Djinn finally found that person they would bond souls with them. They would become immortal until their master passed away. But, the only way to get a master was to either be saved by someone, or to be bested in honorable combat. So far no one he had met filled those needs. So he walked on, without purpose.
He walked on as he had done for years, his dress shoes making dull claps as they struck the ground beneath his feet. He looked to his right, noticing his reflection in a store window. He always made sure he was in pristine condition, wanting to have his master, whenever he found him or her, to have a butler who looked nice and did as he was told.
His silver hair ran down his back to just below his shoulder blades in a pony tail, a red ribbon holding it together. The excess strands slowly waving in the breeze. From the front of his hair he had two dark blue stripes that ran through his hair until they reached his pony tail, sliding down until his hair ended. Right in between the two stripes, two wolf ears sat, presses against his hair. They were only visible because they broke the double line his blue stripes made.
The ears were the same silver as his hair, but the tips were a dark blue. His skin was white, almost glistening in the light of the moon. His shirt was a white button up dress shirt with ruffles at the end of the sleeves. His gloves white, plain and simple. He wore a black vest over the top of his shirt, blue lining the top of the collar while red lined the bottom where the vest ended. An amulet that was a white steel hung haphazardly around his neck, tucked under his vest. The small circular metal that hung at the bottom was words of the ancient Djinn written around it, a stone that was purple in the middle.
His black slacks were pressed, in good condition and without any signs of wear. His black shoes shone from the polish he made sure to apply to them every morning. He looked the part od a perfect butler, but one without a master's will to guide him.
He licked his lips, his tongue also brushing over his sharp fangs. While he had been raised by his Djinn father, his mother had been a Blue Hell Hound. An unlikely combination of parents, but they had mostly known each other in their human forms. He had been raised by his father, taught in the ways of the Djinn and how to control the urges of his Hellish blood.
As he walked he could hear a presence nearing him. His right ear twitched slightly, then rested back where it seemed to disappear into his hair. He kept walking, knowing full well he was being followed. Though he could do nothing to defend himself if they chose to attack. He was definitely armed, but without a master's order to fight he could not engage. Unless they were to challenge him to an honorable duel. But he did not see that happening.
He decided the best course of action would be to find a safe place of sorts, then lie low. His plan was cut short when a figure appeared in front of him. He stopped, turning on his heels to head another direction when another figure appeared. He sighed, looking around and noticing he was surrounded. He placed his hands behind his back, using his right hand to hold his left.
"Good evening, gentlemen. Are you here to duel me?" He closed his eyes, lowering his head. He heard them laughing. He opened his eyes and looked at them.
"Not in the slightest." He sighed.
"I figured as much, unfortunately. Then what is it you would want from me, gents?" They started to close in, drawing various blades.
"Your soul would be a good start." He adjusted his wrist, feeling his two blades. He stopped his lust, raising them back up his sleeve. He would not submit to his Hell blood. Instead he placed his hands to his side, widening his stance so his right foot was forward.
"Then you'll have to take it from me, which does not happen easily." They rushed him. He took in their scents, seeing where all four of them were. He closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath. When the one in front stabbed, he moved to the side, grabbing the man's wrist, throwing him into the man to his left.
He stopped both blades from the one behind him and to his right. He then spun them around and kicked the first one away, shoving the second into a wall. He would not return their blows. He resettled, waiting patiently. They looked enraged that they had failed to harm him. He got a better look at them all. Metal masks adorned their faces, suits of black on their bodies.
"Your move, gents." They came back at him, all stabbing at the same time. He jumped up, stepping off the front man's head and front flipping away. He turned back to see them all slam into each other and flounder to the ground.
"Well played." They stood, changing their weapons to guns. He faltered in his taunts, realizing his advantage had just been lost.
"Shoot the bastard!" When they opened fire he jumped to the side, zig zagging in between the bullets, gracefully ducking and bending so to avoid the metal projectiles. He knew they would run out soon when a bullet slammed into his shoulder. He grunted, then another struck him. This on in his leg. Eventually he had been hit to where he fell to the floor. He grunted, looking up.
He saw the men standing over him, guns held up and laughing. The lead one lowered his gun to point at the injured butler's face.
"This is my move, Alfred." Before he could fire there was a hiss, then bright lights that sent them careening into a wall. The butler looked up to see a women in black or dark purple walking forward, a horde of pumpkins behind her.
"Pump-Pumpkin. Pumpkin Smash!" Two pumpkins flew forward, crushing two of the men, their bodies being eviscerated and their souls launched into the open. The two remaining aimed their guns at her and began firing. She didn't move, one of her pumpkins flying in front of her and taking the barrage of bullets. She frowned, holding up her hand.
"Pump-Pumpkin, Halloween Canon!" A large orange beam came from her hand and flew into the man, incinerating them. All that was left was their souls. When she was done she went to the injured man. She stood over him, eyeing him with curious eyes that reminded the man of a cat's.
"Are you alright?" He smiled.
"You saved me." She nodded.
"Soooo... Are you alright?" He nodded slowly, groaning in pain.
"Yes. You saved me." She was confused.
"So I can see. But don't you need medical attention?" He shook his head.
"If you become my master I will not. You saved me. If you accept me as your servant then I will not die." She blinked a few times before waving her hands around happily.
"You mean I can have you as a butler!?" He nodded.
"Yes, if it is your wish." She nodded quickly.
"Yes, please! Be my butler!" There was a silver light that crept from the man, then slowly drifted into the women. She flinched slightly but ignored it. When it finished she noticed his wounds had started to seal. Even his clothes were repairing themselves, the blood stains fading away. When he finished he stood, standing in front of her with his right hand on front of his chest and his left behind his back.
"What is my Mistresses name?" She winked at him.
"Blair! So, wait a minute. You'll do anything I tell you to?" He nodded to her.
"Yes, Mistress." She had her already large smiled grow larger.
"Jump."
"As you wish, Mistress." He then gave a short jump, still holding his butler pose. She squealed in joy.
"This is amazing, Butler guy!" He gave a short bow to her.
"Quite, Mistress." She tapped her chin.
"I'll name you Butly!" He gave a slight scowl at the name, but it quickly faded.
"Mistress, if it pleases you I already have a name."
"What?" He gave a slight bow as he said his name.
"I am Daemon. Butler to Mistress Blair." She jumped in joy, landing and readjusting her witch hat.
"I have a butler! I can't wait to show the others! Yay!" As she walked away Daemon looked into the sky. He shrugged.
"They can't all be perfect, father." He placed his hands behind his back as he followed her. She stopped after a few feet, turning suddenly.
"Wait! They're probably not there. We'll just go to my house and wait for them tomorrow!" She took off. Daemon trying to keep up with the witch, but she was much more agile than the Hell Hound.
"Please be careful, Mistress. The night if fraught with dangers. Besides, you don't want to trip and hurt yourself." She turned around, still running.
"It'll be fine! Come on!" Daemon assumed a less regal stance and sprinted after her. She still stayed facing him, until she bumped into something. She turned, seeing a large Kishin facing her.
"Oops." Daemon was quick, sprinting forward, lowering the daggers in his sleeves. The monster pulled back a clawed hand, bringing it down towards Blair. Daemon shoved her aside, taking the hit. Blair was in shock as the claws sunk into his chest, splitting his heart in two. Daemon coughed up blood, going limp.
After a few seconds he stood quickly, pushing himself off the claws. He then flicked his wrists, a red, formal dagger sliding into his left hand. He held it normally, the blade waiting. In his right hand a jagged blue blade settled into his hand in a reversed grip. The dagger had a small amount of blue smoke slowly rising from it.
"I'll protect you, Mistress." He held the daggers in front of him, the red held horizontally and the blue vertically, creating a cross in front of him. He waited for the beast to make a move. When the Kishin rushed him he jumped up towards the head, slicing his daggers against each other, creating sparks that flew from the blades and into the eyes of the Kishin.
It back pedaled, letting out a pained roar while wiping its eyes. Daemon spun to the right slightly, then rushed forward, slicing into the leg of the Kishin. When he was behind it he ran up its back. He stabbed the blue blade into the forehead, pulling back so the neck was vulnerable. He then whipped the red dagger around, slitting the throat.
He did a back flip off the Kishin, letting his daggers go mid back flip. When he landed he brushed off his shoulders and his slacks, then caught the falling daggers. He flicked them, then returned them up his sleeves.
"That takes care of that." He then rushed to Blair's side.
"Mistress, are you unharmed? Are you feeling light headed, do you need medical attention?" She flicked his forehead, confusing him.
"You worry too much. I have eight souls, losing one isn't that bad." Daemon recoiled slightly at the revelation.
"You're a... Cat?" She suddenly disappeared in a puff of smoke. In her place was a black cat with a witch hat on her head.
"Yup! Why, are you allergic?" He shook his head.
"Just... Surprised. And slightly ironic." She changed back, jumping up and placing her hat back on her head.
"How so?" He raised up his ears, pointing at them. She jumped, not in the air, but on him. She immediately began pawing at his ears.
"They're like mine! But not cat ears. Puppy dog!" Daemon let out a sigh, immediately correcting himself.
"Yes, Mistress. If that is how you see me then I will be your... Puppy dog." She laughed loudly.
"Yay! Come on puppy! We're going home! I need a bath!" Daemon nodded, following his Mistress. He made sure to keep his eyes peeled to the darkness. Even if she had eight souls he would make sure she would not lose a single one while he drew breath. Seeing as he wasn't going to be dying anytime soon he wasn't worried about her losing any souls.
They came to the edge of town, walking along a path that led to a large pumpkin that was a house.
"Is this Mistresses' house?" She nodded. Daemon walked forward, opening the door for her and standing patiently to the side. She giggled, walking past him. When he entered he closed the door, making sure it was locked, not wanting to chance any Kishin getting in and harming him Mistress. When he turned he recoiled back.
"M-Mistress. You seem to have lost your... clothing articles." She turned to him and nodded.
"How else am I going to take a bath?" Daemon merely summoned a towel. He held it forward, looking straight ahead and not at Blair.
"However Mistress wishes." She took the towel, walking to the room where her tub was. She snapped her fingers and it filled with hot water. She practically dived in and Daemon was slightly amused.
And Cats are supposed to hate water." He closed the door, waiting outside patiently. He had to admit, she was definitely not what he was expecting her to be. While he was grateful for a master after all those years, he just realized it was going to be very interesting with her as his Mistress. After what felt like a long time she emerged, still without clothing. Daemon held the towel forward, not just for her sake but for his as well.
"Here you are, Mistress." She took it, drying her hair quickly before handing it back.
"Thanks!" Daemon didn't know how to respond.
"Would Mistress like me to leave whist she changes?" She turned to him confused.
"Into what?" Daemon gulped.
"Your... Pajamas." She shook her head.
"Don't have those."
"Of course she doesn't. Was it always this difficult with your Mistress, Father?" He said a silent prayer to his father that his training would keep him from doing anything that would embarrass both himself and his father's legacy. So he just looked out the window, not to the cat who was currently reclining on the top of the couch, still without clothes.
"Is Mistress ready for bed?" Blair stood. She scratched her head.
"I suppose I am. She stood, stretching while Daemon continued to look out the window and not at his Mistress. She walked past him, the Hell Hound twitching in worry. She went to her room, jumping on her bed while Daemon waited outside. He went to close the door when she called his name. He looked in, quickly turning his eyes to the ceiling.
"Yes, Mistress?"
"Can you tuck me in?"
"Sweet Christ!" He could feel his mother turning in her grave as he said that.
"As you wish, My Mistress." He walked in, eyes on the floor now. He grabbed the blankets, bringing them over her body, delicately. He tucked in the edges to keep them from falling off her in the night. He stood, looking her in the face now that her modesty was covered.
"Anything else, Mistress?" She thought about it before motioning to the couch.
"Sorry I don't have a nice place for you. I didn't expect to get a butler tonight." Daemon bowed to her, smiling.
"It's quiet alright, Mistress. I did not expect to get a Mistress tonight." She cocked her head.
"Why not?"
"I have been searching for many years, without any luck I'm afraid. Until tonight." She suddenly leapt from the covers, causing the Hell Hound to panic, especially when she pressed her assets to his face in a bone crushing hug.
"Well now you have one."
"One who has no idea about personal space and clothing. But yes, I do." He cleared his throat.
"Mistress, you are placing your... never mind. Are you ready for bed now?" She went back to the bed and Daemon once more tucked her in. He started to leave, turning and bowing to his Mistress before closing the door.
"Goodnight, Mistress." Right before he closed the door he heard her call for him again.
"Yes, Mistress?"
"Can I get a glass of water?" Daemon smiled.
"As you wish, my Mistress." He then went to fetch her water for her.
"This shall be very interesting indeed. I hope my father isn't pulling the strings from his grave and causing all of this. He probably is. Stuck up Djinn." He returned, giving his Mistress her water. He once more bowed at the door.
"If you require anything then please tell me, Mistress. Goodnight." She smiled.
"We're going to get you a proper room and bed tomorrow. Got it?" He bowed to her.
"Thank you, Mistress." She waved goodbye. Daemon closed the door. He held his posture until he sat on the couch. He held it for a few seconds, not hearing Blair call for him. Then he collapsed.
"Ouch." He curled up on the bed, not bothering to remove his shoes or change into anything more comfortable. He then fell asleep, feeling the burdens of the day finally catching up to him.
"I finally found... A Mistress... Just like you... Father. I'll make... You... Proud."
Well, he survived a half an hour of Blair. Many more of those to go. He will get more used to her though. Hopefully, for his sake. Anywho, keep calm and may the Aura be with you all! Stay tuned for more! I'll find a better Picture for this eventually. I want to try drawing one, but my drawing is either really good! Or really bad. So we'll see. Peace!