a/n: Set before the current events of the manga, where the servants of the Phantomhive family have only recently been recruited.
a/n#2: For arguments sake, Mey Rin's name shall remain as "Maylene"; apologies for any upset or confusion caused by this 'change'.
Kuroshitsuji—Black Butler—Fanfic
Lost Titbits
Summary: In which Maylene misplaces her glasses, Sebastian is at his wits end, and all hell breaks loose.
Soft rays of white light seeped into the grand bedchamber, the chipper chirps of birds tickling his senses as he drifted between slumber and consciousness—all was seemingly well this fine English morning.
Until…
"What in the bloomin' daylights? What 'appened in 'ere? Maylene! MAYLENE!"
The young boy of no more than eleven woke with a start, eyes wide as they snapped to a complete open; what in God's name had they done this time?
"Young Master, it seems you are awake. Shall I serve your breakfast now?"
Said 'Master' raised his bleary gaze to the eloquent, postured man standing prostate alongside his bed, handsome features ablaze with a look of emboldened amusement adorning his otherwise blank expression—some things never changed, it seemed.
"Sebastian, what on earth is causing such rowdiness at this ungodly hour of the morn? Why is Bard carrying on in his typical swinish drawl when it is obvious he has matters more pressing to concern himself with? And why is it that he finds it suitable to all but bloody holler out Maylene's name like she lives on another planet?"
It seemed that Ciel Phantomhive, the newly established Head of Funtom Company, had a rather broad assortment of questions to ask, so it seemed; Sebastian chuckled, scarlet eyes alight with mirth as he cocked his head to the side, raising his right hand to the open space upon his heart, before he gave a slight, mocking bow in Ciel's direction, only serving to piss him off all the more—whoever said he was a morning person should be arrested for treasonous misjudgement of character and be hung on the gallows for extra measure.
"I am but a butler, Young Master. It cannot be expected of me to comprehend the utter foolishness of such reckless acts of disruption."
Ciel snorted derisively, rolling his mismatched eyes before settling a frosty glare in his personal 'Butler's' direction; he truly was the master of "Pissing the Master off", wasn't he?
"It is uncalled for for you to be stating such utter folly in my presence, Butler, and it is degradingly depreciative of you to think that I would settle for anything less than outstanding. I find it profoundly insulting that you undermine not only your capabilities," At this, Sebastian's secretive smile grew to near sinister, "But my judgement of character as well. Honestly, are all of my servants truly bumbling incompetents inept at even the simplest of tasks?"
With one final jerk of his head to the side, Ciel raised a small, fragile hand to his head, ruffling the hair at the back before running the appendage over the right half of his face, raising the bangs at the front until they lay in a messy pile atop his head. Leaving his lilac-violet eye exposed for viewing.
Sebastian idly mused, rubbing the back of his left hand whilst staring intently at the sealed pentagram that was surrounded by a secondary one in the Young Master's normally hidden eye; the typical Faustian contract found when a human being sold their soul to a demon in exchange for their eternal services whilst the mortal still remained among the living variety.
My, it had been just over a year since he had first come into Ciel's life; since they'd all come into his life.
Yet it felt like only a whisper of breath had been expelled, and already the dark haired boy was to be twelve.
What an interesting realm the mortal world was proving to be, as blatantly dull and unappealing as his stay had been thus far.
With that same coy smile in place, Sebastian stepped forward, and began his daily ritual of dressing the Phantomhive's Head in his typical garb, all but ripping the sheets away from his frail form in the process; honestly!
No manners at all!
Letting a wearied sigh pass through his thin lips, Ciel rolled his contract eye into the back of his skull, the lid closing over the sensitive retina just as his demon servant crossed his patch atop it, tying it behind his head so that it was successfully held in place; what followed was his dress shirt and pants, a navy overcoat to compliment his chosen attire, and of course, his long black socks and heavy heeled boots—somehow Ciel was given the vague impression that his feet were in for a long, tiring expedition in which would render them immobile from the imminent pain that was soon to be inflicted upon them.
Oh joy.
Suddenly the impending fatigue didn't seem so terrible when held in comparison to the prospects of the day's activities—no, chores that the Queen herself had handed down to him to complete.
And not even a breath of complaint was allowed to be made.
Hah, it was almost like a mockery of his lack of familial ties; seeing as he had no parents to enslave him to the tediousness that was manual labour, he was made a laughingstock by becoming their country's Matriarch's lapdog, in their stead.
Go figures that God loathed his presence on earth, since he had pretty much sold over his soul to the Devil Himself—why else would He have handed the pre-pubescent boy over to the Royal scum that had made England into the corrupt nation it was now?
Ciel would never know, that was for sure.
Shaking his head—as if the notion would help in clearing his mind—almost abhorrently, Lord Phantomhive slipped his lithe frame from the edge of the large mattress he occupied, revelling in the sudden quiet that had lulled over the mansion—
CRASH, BANG, "Oh FU—", "OiWHYM SO SORE-EE BARD! OiWHY DI'N' SEE YOU!"
Translation—"I'm so sorry Bard! I didn't see you!"
So much for peace and tranquillity…
"Sebastian… Do see to it that they make no further damage to my home, and find out why exactly Maylene seems to be causing such chaos in the process."
When the customary 'Yes my Lord' left Sebastian's lips, Ciel stalked towards his doorway, intent on setting to work in his office in what could be called relative comfort, only to pause in the threshold of the door.
"And bring me something sweet when all of that mess is sorted."
He added as an afterthought; seemingly satisfied, Ciel sauntered casually down the hall, Sebastian calling out a "But of course, Master", before setting off to his usual business—carrying out his orders without fail.
Because, after all, he was simply one hell of a Butler.
*.*.*.*.*
"OW, DAMMIT! MAYLENE, WATCH WHERE YOU'RE—OWWW!"
At the sound of a particularly loud thud, Sebastian flinched, wondering what poor piece of furniture had been subjected to Maylene's unforgiving wrath—or in human terminology, what she had knocked about with her general klutziness.
Inwardly cringing at the mental image that had unwittingly sprung into his mind (of wine barrels and racks smashed across the cellar floor, their contents undoubtedly smashed and spilt and oh so depressing to clean up after, as he had far more pressing matters to deal with than yet another spillage caused by guess who), Sebastian straightened his poise, nerve stiff as he made his entrance into the lower faction of the building.
The sight he was met with forced his eye to twitch, both scarlet orbs narrowing into vice-like slits as he settled his harrowing gaze upon the broken vintage bottles, and the shattered shelf that was currently settled over Bard's feet.
The blonde imbecile looked as if he were in a fairly substantial amount of pain, as his face was a mixture of obvious agony, and flushed red from the strain of trying to remove said impediment from his trapped appendages—well that was virtually impossible, seeing as it weighed a vast tonne or two, something only he or Finnian could possibly hope to lift singlehandedly.
The demon cast a brief glance at their surroundings, noting that Maylene was nowhere in sight, her scent lingering, but no longer as overpowering as it normally would be when he was in her presence (females and their blind attraction to the opposite sex!)—this could not possibly bode well.
If she had left—and this was the extent of damage she was leaving in her wake—then God only knows how worse this situation could get. Fantastic—more work for him to complete before the day's end.
But he could manage.
After all, he was simply one hell of a Butler.
He just had to persevere, and deal with the predicament at hand.
Sighing almost morosely (or as close as an inhuman being could get to it), Sebastian strode over to where the rustic, heavyset wooden shelf lay, splintered but not completely ruined, gloved hands gripping the smooth surface almost tenderly before he upheaved it from the cold marble floor, easily putting it back in its traditional place against the moss-covered walls.
Hm.
He would have to make a note of scrubbing this room down thoroughly at a later date.
Dusting his hands off in a morbidly human way (he winced at the implications of that action), Sebastian turned his focus to the surprised man now sprawled across the floor, panting for breath but stunned never the less at both Sebastian's presence (one that he had not taken note of whilst desperately trying to heave the bloody wretched shelf from his now searing feet), and the extraordinary amount of strength (that indefinitely rivalled that of Finny's, if not more so, which seemed almost inconceivable to Bard, because no one human could have possibly done what Sebastian had just pulled off without a hitch) he had displayed in that instant.
Almost as if instinct were ruling over him (in which it probably was), Sebastian found his arms folding expectantly over his chest, chin tilting upward until it had been made more than clear that he was pissed—and oh was his displeasure received.
Bard stiffened almost in preparation to be punched—HARD—across the back of his head (and if he was unfortunate enough, his face as well), eyes clenched shut as he awaited the fated blow.
It never came.
Confused, the blonde reopened his formerly clamped eyes, orbs rising to meet Sebastian's more than complacent face; which meant only one thing.
He wanted to know how this had all happened, before he decided to smack him around the room and then some.
Taking this as his saving grace, Bard opened his mouth, rambling in his typical drawl everything that the demon butler desired to know.
"I came down to the cell'a, thinkin' tha' the Master would want some'a his usual vin'age for dinn'a this eve'nin. But it seems 'at Maylene 'ad the same idea, 'nd was alre'ey clamberin' up the back of'a shelf when I made ma way in. I wen' ov'a to that very shelf— it was a lih'ul odd though, that the shelf was in the mih'ul of the room, bu' I assumed that the walls were gonna be cleaned, so I di'int question i'—I did, 'nd reached for the same bo'uhl as 'er. 'Course I di'int realise this a' the time, and moved to take it, bu' i' wouh'nt budge, so I reinforced a lih'ul strength, 'nd that was when I no'iced 'er 'and 'oldin the bo'uhl too. Because she was tuggin' so flippin' 'ard to ge' i' back, 'nd 'coz I refused tah le'er 'ave it… Well, I pull'd 'er my way, she dropped the bo'uhl on ma feet, 'nd 'coz 'er feet were plan'ed on the shel'ves sides, i' kinda toppled ov'a. I slipped away, bu' no' in time to avoid the shelf from landin' on ma… well, you ge' the picture."
Bard finished sullenly, drifting off into silence as he awaited Sebastian's verdict.
So Maylene had been down here to do exactly what Bard had intended to before this incident occurred?
It made sense, Sebastian supposed, although it was a little strange that the shelf had been moved so unexpectedly into the middle of the room—he would have known, after all, if anyone had been down here (this was the prime example of exactly why no one got away with anything in this mansion; there was no subtlety in any of the workers, after all, so nothing could be done without his knowledge [or so he had first thought]).
Shaking it off as something he would investigate in the later hours of the evening, Sebastian returned to the present moment, intent on gauging the exact reason for Maylene's sudden defection; that much was easily worked out when an anguished yelp echoed throughout the manor, raising the demon's hide more than expected—that sounded an awful lot like…
"Finnian."
It was uttered simultaneously, Sebastian's an exasperated complaint (as he should have known Maylene would seek out the only worker amongst them that had the strength to free Bard of his pain, little realising that she was going to inflict injury upon him as well) whilst Bard's sympathetic, as if already predicting this outcome to occur.
Promising to return to the cellar to clean up the spilt wine, glass shards and fragmented wood after he saw to it that Maylene caused no further trouble, Sebastian booked it, striding quickly and efficiently to the blockaded door at the back of the room (in which he assumed Maylene had used in her panic to get help), flicking his wrist only to have the heavy steel (yes, steel) grind to an unwilling open, his panther-esque physique easily propelling him through the grounds as he tapped into his inhuman speed, making what would normally be a ten minute trip to the gardens something that equated to less than point five of a millisecond.
Landing eloquently on the gravel that lined the spectacular greenery surrounding him, Sebastian allowed his eyes to quickly scan the area, observing what could have possibly have caused such an ungainly scream to be pried from Finnian's lips.
What met his line of sight almost had him in a bout of uncontrollable twitching.
All of the grand coniferous trees were set alight (Pluto most likely the cause of such undisputed destruction, the vile creature), burning right down until they were nothing but mere skeletons, frailly clinging to their leaves in the pathetic attempt to remain covered—the orange flames kissed the air, and with a burst of wind, they grew insurmountably, thick black smoke painting the once pristine blue sky an ominous shade of grey.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK.
And if that wasn't enough?
Well then try Finny, whom was currently being strangled by the very hose he was trying to put the fire out with. It was wrapped around his entire person—which wasn't much considering he was so young—like a massive basilisk, tightening particularly around his neck as he futilely squirmed to escape.
And the tighter it got around his throat, the more water ended up confined in the tube of corded rope; at the moment very little spurted from the nozzle, AS IT SHOULD, but instead gathered to the point where not only could Finny not breathe (if his gasping breaths for oxygen said anything, or the discolouration his face began to gain), but it was made to look as if it would explode at any given moment, meaning that before Finny would be able to take one breath of air into his lungs, his throat would inevitably be slit from the sheer force of the rope coming undone against his flesh; rendering him a corpse.
Joy.
Sebastian made haste, sprinting to Finnian's side in an instant, the boy's wide eyes pleading the Butler to SAVE ME NOW.
And that he did.
Sebastian stopped the flow of water with his foot at the base of the hose, allowing it room to build up away from Finny whilst he gently pried the rough rope away from the young boy's flesh, spinning him around and out of the cord just as he released the pressure upwards and into the trees, the force of it nearly bowling even him over had he not darted forward, careening himself skyward as the water spurted uncontrollably from the nozzle, gliding through the air and attacking the bursting flames with an aerial assault that any trapeze artist would be jealous of, until they were no more, the dark haired demon landing on the ground before Finny could process it.
Thankfully he had been gasping for air and looking away from the disaster zone, so he saw nothing of Sebastian's brief stint in the sky above.
Rolling his shoulders along with the now sagging rope (thanks to the young lad whom had finally regained his senses enough to realise that the situation was now under control, and did what he could to help the ticked off Butler in his quest to end the damage done unto the wildlife), Sebastian made his way back to Finnian, aura practically seething with malice as he collected the bundled rope into his arms, placing it delicately onto the shelf provided, before turning back to face the blonde haired boy with an expression that bordered threatening as he awaited his much deserved explanation.
And it took very little to persuade Finnian into divulging the full details of what had happened.
"M-Maylene c-came runnin' toward me, screaming hysterically—something about B-Bard being h-hurt, and that she needed me to lift somethin'—with a wild look in her eyes. S-She w-was runnin' so fast, that she didn't notice P-Pluto until it was too late; she trampled his tail, and i-in reaction, h-he howled in p-pain, a-and those flames came spewing from his mouth."
I knew I should have disposed of that mutt when I had the chance…
Sebastian internally berated himself, a scowl touching his lips as Finnian continued on with his recount; and by noticing Sebastian's sudden mood change, his stuttering only worsened, hands making wild gestures as he frantically tried to gesticulate his point, with as little articulation as possible, it seemed.
"M-Maylene, s-sh-sh-she s-s-s-scream-eam-eamed a-a-again, r-r-ran f-for t-th-the h-h-h-hose…! A-A-An' I 'a-a-a-ave n-no i-i-idea h-h-how, b-b-but s-sh-she th-threw the h-h-hose at m-m-me, a-a-an' I got tangled u-u-u-u-up i-i-in i-i-i-it, a-a-a-a-an' b-b-b-before I-I c-could g-g-g-g-get o-o-ou-out of i-it, sh-she t-turned i-it on! T-T-Then it s-star'ed t-to strangle me! Sh-Sh-She f-flipped out, a-an-an' ran o-off to find 'e-e-e-elp!"
Finnian finished meekly, gulping in terror as he trembled away from Sebastian's vicinity; he looked outright murderous.
So it was, essentially, Maylene's fault, again, that something potentially life threatening had occurred on the Master's land?
Ohoh, she was in for it now.
All he had to do was find the stupid, incompetent fool, and put her in her place—!
Turning on his heel without another word, swearing to himself that he would have the garden in pristine condition by the end of the day, Sebastian hightailed it back into the mansion, intent on snuffing the ditsy, ineffectual, inept, absolutely bloody useless maid out until she had no life left in her.
She was what made him rekindle the desire to curb bloodlust upon another's body, after all, and she was most certainly the prime target of his rage right now.
He may be one hell of a Butler, but right now, no matter how many times he chanted it as a mantra in his mind, nothing could stop him on his rampage to paddle the living shit out of the unapt woman he was so angrily searching for.
Bypassing Tanaka—although politely nodding and smiling at the tea-sipping elder (in reference to human years, not demon)—Sebastian briskly walked down each hall, blindly searching for the object of his extreme distaste.
The redhead seemed to be everywhere and nowhere, evidence of her clumsiness left in the form of smashed dishes (she had actually stumbled into the cabinet containing the fine chinaware—he was going to kill her for sure), broken chairs standing crooked on three legs, or not standing at all, spilt and smashed vases alike, portraits all but hanging by a thread on a one-eighty degree angle…
SHE WAS BEYOND SALVATION NOW.
Picking up momentum, so that his gait was stiff, yet poised and elegant as he all but sprinted throughout the entire manor, Sebastian allowed his mahogany slits flicker to every unperturbed inch of space (a comforting notion, to know that Maylene hadn't entirely destroyed his efforts to have the mansion remain pristine and immaculate), trying to discern her pattern of movement—she was nowhere to be found, in either the east or west wings of the spacious estate, so that left…
"She wouldn't—!"
Ciel.
The demon all but about-faced into the nearest door, leaving permanent burn marks from the pace he had been moving at in the carpet as he darted forward, only to materialise at the end of his Master's office hallway; and from what he could see, she had already made her arrival known, as he could hear the young Phantomhive's discomfited voice flitting about in the atmosphere as the first signs of disaster were made known.
CRASH, THUD, SMASH, "OOF!", "EEK! OiWHYM SO SORE-EE, MASTER PHANTOMH-IGH-VE! I DI'INT MEEN TO—", "I-It's quite alright, Maylene. Now could you PLEASE calm yourself, and explain to me why you have been causing such disruptions today?", "OH WHY CERTAINLY, MASTER! OiWHY WAS JUST—"
And it was at that very moment that Sebastian decided to intervene.
His aura was blackened indeed, worsening still when he caught a glimpse of the raging bombshell that had caused all of the earlier accidents—that, and the mess she had made of Ciel's personal workspace.
He wasn't even going to bother hiding his distaste and utter rage at the soaked business files, crumpled invitations and letters, broken vases, legless chairs, shredded books (in which she had somehow managed to knock from one of the two bookshelves lining the walls horizontally, the chaos ever present there too [with shelves loosely supported by one side whilst the other tilted toward the ground, causing a mess of books to rain down even now to the carpeted flooring at their feet]), a dishevelled young Master…
The butler had to clench his fists, along with his mouth, which was prone to expelling the harshest reprimands (in the form of expletives so vulgar that it would make a sailor blush like a little girl would over the cute boy next door) heard by man and supernatural being alike.
Instead he chose to voice his anger in the form of a rather chilling question, one that had Maylene stiffen in exponential terror, and Ciel smirk with hidden mirth.
"Pray tell why all of my hard efforts have been but abolished in a single hour, Maylene, or would you rather I divulge the information by my own means, in which there will be much pain and little enjoyment on your part?"
And the stuttering fest began, in which it took yet another hour away from the day (Sebastian was, at this point, barely restraining the very physical urge to clamp his hand around her throat and squeeze her life's essence right out of her eye sockets) that could have been spent more productively, by, oh, FIXING THE DISARRAY THAT SHE HAD SO FOOLISHLY CAUSED.
By this stage, it was only safe to say that, no, Sebastian was not "one hell of a butler".
Why, you ask?
Well, let's see—firstly, he was behind schedule by about three hours, secondly, he was finding it excruciatingly difficult to NOT kill the infuriating woman across from him, and lastly, he still had an order that had yet to be performed.
All of this, and on top of that, dinner preparations were needed to be made at, oh, how about NOW.
Tch.
This day was proving to be one of the most frustrating he had ever dealt with in his entire existence.
And that said a lot.
Who would have thought that it would be a klutzy, flabbergasted "maid" that, in all of the years that Sebastian had roamed the earth, would push him so far over the edge that he practically seethed red, and in such a short expanse of time?
The universe sure was one fucked up place to reside in, that was a given.
*.*.*.*.*
"So let me ascertain your reasoning… You had misplaced your glasses, the one's that the Master had personally purchased for you, and you could not see without them?"
Bravo; in what took Maylene over an hour to explain (courtesy of the furious blushing and stagnant stuttering), Sebastian easily paraphrased it into a single, not-so-wordy sentence.
But that was no surprise, seeing as he was—NOT GOING THERE.
"W-W-Well n-not q-q-quite—"
"Then please do clarify your scripted narrative, as it seems that nothing was received in the way that you had intended, Maylene."
But before the redhead could get another word in, Ciel filled in the blanks, again cutting down her tedious tale into a succinct, very concise reply to the butler's former inquiry.
"That is easily answered, Sebastian. As you are most certainly aware, Maylene has been gifted with being far-sighted. But because she didn't have her glasses to shorten the lengthened scope of her gaze, she was seeing close-up objects at an almost telescopic range. That is why, when she reached for anything to assist the others, she nearly bloody well killed them instead."
Ah, so that was the mystery behind her heightened clumsiness. But that still did not excuse her from trouble; not in the slightest.
"I had been meaning to surprise you with this later, Maylene, but after these recent discrepancies," Said woman simply cringed at the implication, whilst Sebastian voiced a derisive snort, so out of character that Ciel could find no words to comment, so instead continued on, "I think it best to give them to you now."
Fishing around in the upper compartment of his desk, the young Earl presented her with his outstretched hand, an ivory case, simple but beautiful, held within his palm.
Graciously she accepted the box, curious as she fixed her inquisitive gaze with the inanimate object, then to Ciel, then a rather meek sidelong glance at Sebastian before she summoned her wits (in which the demon butler had none left of) and pried the lid open.
At her utterly delighted squeal, Sebastian chanced a glimpse in her direction, surprised to see a newly restored pair of glasses sitting upon the cushioned velvet lining. He raised a thin raven brow at the gesture, eyes flickering to lock with his Master's before he made his questioning gaze clear—how on earth did you manage this without her noticing?
And Ciel simply smiled, one so devious that a sinister one of his own tugged at Sebastian's full lips, understanding flashing through his hooded eyes as he returned his speculative stare back to the redhead, whom was tickled pink with her Lord's kindness.
"I had them repaired, seeing as they were damaged; that box is for you to keep them safe, and I expect that you will look after them well this time around."
When he was met with her avid nods and 'Yes Master, thank you Master'/s, Ciel dismissed her, leaving it to Sebastian to decide her punishment.
"Sebastian, do see to it that the grounds are whipped back into shape before this evening; Elizabeth and her parents have decided to drop in unannounced once again this evening, and I would hate for her mother to find any more flaws with my home than she already has—this will just be her excuse to have it knocked down, and then have me move to her estate."
They both supressed a shudder at that rather unpleasant thought, before the ebony haired butler bowed respectfully, hand once again placed mockingly over his heart before he turned to make his leave—and deal with Maylene once and for all.
Ciel's authoritative voice halted him briefly in his tracks, however, just as he had made it to the entryway to his office.
"And Sebastian… Do bring me that sweet I asked for three hours ago."
A smirk tugged on said demon's lips, scarlet eyes flashing scathingly in the dim light as he uttered his trademark response.
"Yes, my Lord."
*.*.*.*.*
Everything had been sorted within moments of Elizabeth's family's arrival, from the dire clean-up of the Earl of Phantomhive's entire mansion, to dinner preparations; Maylene had been punished thoroughly for her mishaps (and would ultimately be scarred for life because of it), and once again everything was in order.
It turned out that Maylene had been the culprit behind the moving of the shelf in the cellar (as she had wanted to lighten the load for Sebastian, so to speak, and took initiative several nights earlier), and after she had scrubbed the walls clean with nothing but a meagre toothbrush—hers to be exact—she had been sent to her quarters without her evening meal to await further instruction from the smug butler (whom was enjoying EVERY MINUTE of her torture, which had yet to be completed, of course).
And all of this was done because he was simply—WAIT FOR IT.
One HELL of a Butler.
…
And Ciel got his long-awaited sweet.
…
~Owarimashita
NOTE: I suppose this is set at a point where Sebastian is completely unused to bumbling incompetence, and became increasingly frustrated in a shorter amount of time than what he normally would have in the normal time frame; I suppose his tolerance of them would have HAD to have risen, so that he could become immune to their foolishness to such an extent (that nothing they did surprised him; suffice to say that doesn't necessarily entail that he DIDN'T get pissed over their unmatched idiocy). ^.^
I figured that before anything else, I would clear the air about that matter.
a/n: Well that sucked ass, for sure. But everything's pretty whacked with me lately, so I guess that is to be expected! :P
I just thought in light of the recent development/s in both the manga and the English dub of Kuroshitsuji (in which have been PREEEETTY dark, if you ask me [and we LOVE IT THAT WAY]) that some pure crack-ish comedy was called for (or something of the sort anyways).
And I hope that you could all understand what was being said when all of the characters were speaking (namely Maylene [duh], Bard and Finny—coz Tanaka barely speaks as it is, the adorkable random Asian man who sips green tea and does very little with himself in the story [not that I care; COMIC RELIEF PEOPLE! x3), as I was going with their funny coughretardedcough accents (seriously, some MAJOR PLOT ISSUES OVERLOOKED—Bard is AMERICAN, is he not? And yet that bloody English [no offense peepz; just generalising here!] accent! And I'm not even going to START on Finny and Maylene [whose name is WRONGWRONGW.R.O.N.G.G.G.G btw]).
Not that the voice acting was BAD or anything, just a little… off? o.O
Or maybe that's just my screwy mind messing with me again. :/ Go figure.
ANYWAYS. Please review, minna. :3
I look forward to hearing from you, even if it is little things like 'It was weird' or whatever. XD
Ja ne (for the time being, to the readers that have stuck with me from the beginning; I am making slow but eventual progress on updating on the popular fics, PROMISE. :D)!
Peace be with you all! (:
*-Sasukeluva 4eva out-*