Hello everyone! Welcome to my new Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler fanfiction. I won't blow this out of proportion, but due to my busy scheduel and fleeting inspiration. updates on this will come whenever they come- there won't be a set scheduel. Sorry in advance for that!
I don't own any of the characters mentioned except for Lawrence. The headcanons and AU, however, I came up with on my own. Don't steal them please!
Enjoy!
It was a much easier life, those days at the circus. True, loyalties were warped then, and terrible things were done, but at least we were close. At least we knew someone cared about us. I think that's what I miss the most, the closeness. I look back to those days fondly, yet I… I can't help but cry. I miss them, more than words can say.
"Edmund!" A yell snaps me out of my sudden remorse, and I turn, blowing long strands of ginger hair from my eyes.
"Aye?" It was Lawrence that spoke. Bless his heart; he's my closest friend at work, and can tell when my mind drifts out of focus.
"You're in charge of the main fly-ins today," he spoke, placing a hand on my shoulder, "Boss said so." Then, in a more gentle tone, he added, "You sure you're up for it?"
"O' 'course!" I replied, placing a hand over his. "Jus' a little off focus, 's all."
His final grin and shoulder squeeze was all he gave to me before he had to run off and scold some new workers who were messing around.
I liked Lawrence. I liked him a lot, actually- he reminded me of myself. We looked different, sure- I was a ginger with dark freckles sprayed across my nose and deep, violet eyes, and he, a young, strapping brunette with no blemishes and the brightest blue eyes I've ever seen. Ladies constantly swooned over him between practices, and while I did laugh at their enthusiasm, I daresay they'd be shocked to learn he was a runaway earl- hence his proper English. To be quite honest, the day he told me so, I could only wonder as to why he would run away from earldom. 'Creative freedom,' he'd responded, and that's when I knew we would get along.
I'd live a life of creative freedom before- circus, remember?- so I could see where he was coming from. Performing is freedom itself; to truly cast aside one's true self and step into the limelight is the whole reason I couldn't leave the industry completely, and why I'm working at an Opera House… now backstage, however.
Even though Lawrence shared his best kept secret with me, his closest friend here- I dare not share with him my own secret. True, he knows I used to be in a circus, but he doesn't know the reason I "left" the circus.
No one probably wouldn't have recognized me at the circus. My hair was longer, I wore makeup, I was certainly more jovial, and more importantly- I only had one prosthetic hand. My right hand.
My name is Edmund John Clemence Taylor. However, I used to be known by another name:
Joker.
I'll never forget the day the circus fell apart. I blame myself, naturally, for being unable to help my family in their time of need. Instead- coward that I was- I ran to Father: our unholy savior, our man behind the curtain. He didn't order those poor, innocent, inexperienced kidnapped children to do the deadly circus acts for Black and Smile- I did. I didn't physically, of course, but in kidnapping the kids because I was too afraid to say no, I might as well have condemned them then and there.
It should've been a red flag that the Baron was not a good father if I was afraid of him, but I was used to such trivialities and punishments, having rarely been shown kindness in my life. But… I needed to protect the circus, and those children at the workhouse.
Both of which, however, were eradicated.
I never found out about the workhouse until after I had found out about the circus. Smile- Ciel- wasn't lying about his staff being skilled.
Shot, beaten, blown to bits. Beast, Dagger, Jumbo, Peter, Wendy. Doll and Snake both missing. The workhouse having been abandoned for years.
Gone, all gone.
And I was left alone.
The first few months, I was back to living on the streets, as I had when I was a child. It was even harder to get by when you're missing both arms instead of one. Thanks to the charity of some kind Doctor (whom I regret not trusting completely at first; the poor bloke was only trying to help), I managed to have two prosthetics, and get some small jobs to make a living for myself. It was hard to adjust my left hand to the life my right hand had been accustomed to, but it worked.
After a year or so, I had done enough jobs to buy myself a house. Not really a house- more of an old, run down shack in Soho abandoned by some gent back in '86. Rumor he was a murderer, though I can't remember his name. I've yet to find a body in the house, so that was a good sign. It wasn't much, but it was home now.
Despite our having left, the circus was still going no strong, thanks to one of my bosses- Grimsby Keane. Mr. Keane was a great supporter of the arts, and the one who hired me at the opera house, despite my two prosthetics. He was a bit stiff and stern, but passionate, and he cared about the condition of those who worked for him. I managed to throw in a small bit of my own salary and support my old family, though anonymously.
I dare not go back for fear of recognition. I can't take that risk of putting the circus in danger again.
I've been working at the opera house for a few months, somehow miraculously jumping to head stage manager. To many, it wouldn't be a big accomplishment, but I thought it was lovely. It's in my natural instinct to look after people- big brotherly emotions, you know- so I was content with my position.
Still, I missed the stage. I missed performing, being out there and making people laugh. That was my true nature. My real calling.
But I had to accept the facts. I would never be out there again. I knew that, deep down inside myself. I didn't deserve it, after what I had done.
Maybe that's why I pitted myself so close to the stage- to see, to hear, but to never be.
"Hold on t' tha' rope there, Ed!" I called, watching the blonde boy yank the rope down over and over. It moved with each tug, sandbags and scenery coming up like Jesus ascending… which made sense in a way, as the scenery was a bunch of painted clouds. "We don' wan' more fog fallin' o'er town t'night!"
With another heave of the rope, Edward laughed, green eyes sparkling. "I 'fink tha's a lil' late there, boss."
"Now now, there's such a thing as too much fog!" I responded, "I've seen it."
"Are y' sure though?"
"Positive!"
With another heave of the rope, the final fly-in was put away, and Edward tied the rope to the rigging. His job was done for the night, and he gave me a mock salute as I dismissed him, watching his mop of blonde hair vanish down the ladder. After making sure everything was tight and secure up there, I followed him down.
The company was vanishing slowly for the night, saying goodbye to friends and lovers, coworkers and affairs, stagehands and singers. A few more waved to me as they left, chipper and smiling, pleased with themselves after rehearsal. I slid some hair behind my ear, checking the riggings and ropes on the main floor before I heard another voice call my name.
"Taylor!"
It wasn't anything done like I had suddenly been spooked, but nonetheless, the turn of my head was done a little more quickly than I had liked it to be. "Oh, Mr. Keane. Whaddya need from me, sir?"
His bizarre haircut flounced as he walked briskly towards me, hands folded behind his back- stoic, stiff, businesslike. It always reminded me of another circus act who had gone missing; a gent we called Suit. He finally stood in front of me, chin up, clicking his heels together.
"I only wanted to pay my respects for your work on the fly-ins today," he commented, eyes closed- all business. I grinned sheepishly, ducking my head.
"'S more than jus' me sir," I replied with a small nod, ""S'all teamwork up there, like it is down here, y'see."
"I am very well aware," A sudden intake of breath, casually, but still stiff- did he ever unwind? I hoped so, lest he accidentally stress himself or something. "I just wanted to talk to you about that circus you keep insisting upon."
I froze.
"Before you worry, they're all right," came the reassurance, and I let out a breath, relieved. I really needed to stop assuming the worst. "I was only curious are to why you insist on supporting them."
…. Strike that, this was worse.
"Uh, well," I cleared my throat awkwardly, trying not to meet his gaze, as I constructed a quick lie- next to juggling, lying was my strength. "I mentioned tha' I myself came from circusfolk, sir. I was…. part o' tha' troupe, y'see, though no' as a main performer." His eyebrow rose. "They called it 'Second String'. All the newbies an' stagehands an' th' like y'see. All trainin' t' be part o' th' show themselves someday."
"And you left before you made it to the top?"
"I was more… forced from it, I guess is one way o' puttin' it. There was some gossip an' things tha' flew around. It wasn't my fault, bu' I thought it best to leave 'fore things go' worse 'round there." Sighing, I added, "... Though, I did enjoy it there. I miss performin', sir."
He was silent for a moment, taking in my explanation. And with that awkward pause, he finally spoke-
"My fiancee, Miss Diaz, had her leading male drop out, as I'm sure you've heard…" I was curious as to why he would mention the latest gossip spreading 'round the theatre, until his next comment made me go numb from shock.
"... Why don't you audition for it yourself?"
Thus concludes chapter one! Thanks for reading this; feel free to comment/fave/you know the drill.
While I'm at the end, a small semi-character cameo makes it in here- Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, specifically Hyde (the gent Joker mentions). Edward is based off of Sabrina Contugo's webcomic The Glass Scientists. Go read it!
Thanks again!
- Ace