UNKNOWN READER POV
Noun: eternitarian: One who believes in the eternity of the soul.
I have realized that in every timeline, there is always one similarity. Though there's thousands of millions of billions of timelines, something always ends up the same. Some people are always bound to meet, like an invisible string pulling them together. Even if they meet for a second, or if they're bound together for the rest of their lives, it still happens.
I don't know when I first met them, the lines have become blurry over the millennia. All I know is that I should've stayed in bed that day.
My soul was bound by chains to theirs, without escape. We are tethered to one another in this infinite abyss, but I am the only one being dragged.
I don't know if I'm dead or alive or somewhere in between, or even if this is one of those dreams that goes on forever.
I don't know whether I'll find them dead or alive next time I wake up.
I don't know if I will have to die a thousand deaths until I complete what I have to do.
Why am I still alive? I have no idea why, I assume I haven't completed His final objective. But I've grown to care for the same people each time, only to watch them die. This is a pain worse than Death, and I am not granted the gift of that, yet.
If there is a God out there, he has never gazed upon me. Is this to repay for all the deaths I have caused?
Is this to repent for the death of the one I love most?
I'm drowning in an ocean of regrets and fears, abandoned time upon time again, all to suffer once more.
What is the point? Will I ever reach His objective? I don't even know what it is, I have forgotten.
All I need is a sign, a sign to continue on, because I can't do this anymore on my own. I've struggled for too long to live like this, I just want it to go back to the way it was before this.
Death is no longer an eternal option, I've tried. Just let me die, being alive hurts too much. I have to see them in pain, and when I try to intervene fate will eventually snatch them up again.
What is this objective, you may ask?
Well, only time will tell. Maybe this time around, this 'objective' will be completed, and I can finally die.
Reader of this letter, I hope you and I will never have to meet. If anyone was to share my fate, it would be a dreadful curse. I don't know what year, timeline or universe this will find you in, but hopefully it is as far from me as possible. No one deserves to be dragged into this mess but me, and only I can stop it.
I leave you with this question: If Death gave you the choice to live again, would you?
Regardless of your answer, He swears there are no strings attached, but I have been tangled in a web of lies.
Please learn or think of what has become of me before you make your choice.
Forever,
Taylor I. Taylor
XX/XX/XXXX
Ivy's POV, 2017
"Sayonara!" Grell calls out, before the world fades into white, and I feel weightless, like I'm in space, before I feel my feet touch down.
I had just...died? I suppose that's a good way to phrase it. I had been killed off in a robbery at a in-the-middle-of-nowhere gas station, and apparently across the America in Chicago a man had been meant to be killed in a robbery. Of course, since we shared the same name 'Taylor Taylor,' I had been killed instead.
Which sounds ridiculous, that I, a trainee of an assassination school (and a secret witch) had been killed. They caught me by surprise, after all. I hadn't expected two robbers. So, these two reapers named Grell and William gave me another chance by placing the ultimate reaper's move 'Death's Kiss' on me, so I won't die or age until I reach the point where I died, then I will go on living. However, the only way that it works is if I replace a person the last time this happened, which I suppose would be here.
1925
Looking around, I find myself on the hustling and bustling streets of Chicago at night, no one noticing my strange clothing in the dim lighting. Flushing slightly, I turn into the alleyway, and with the snap of my fingers and the quickest burst of blue in my eyes, my clothes readjust to the styles of this century. A plaid, V-neck dress with a tan trenchcoat, complimented with a rounded hat and tan flats. My hair was squashed under the hat, but I didn't care.
Yes, this was the power I had from my family: wordless magic. Few could do it, and only a couple of lineages have the power to have an equal magic power with wordless magic compared to worded.
The shuffling of feet catches my attention, as I turn to see a fuming woman dressed in a old-timey flapper dress step out.
Well, I guess it's not old-timey during this period...
"Damn men, always making me sing my lungs out," she fumes with a semi-gravelly voice, pulling out a cigarette holder. She continued to pull a lighter out of her pocket, and flicked it.
No light.
Her eyebrow twitched as she flicked it again, but to no avail. "Damn it," she cursed, before looking up to me.
"Hey, ya' gotta lighter?" She gruffly asks, and I nod, reaching into my pocket and summoning one. I toss it to her, and she gives me a nod. Quickly lighting her cigarette, she takes a drag with a relaxed sigh, puffing out circles. The smoke soon dissipates, but the smell lingers.
"Damn, that's good," she breathes out lightly, looking at me. She had soft blonde hair parted down the middle that waved to her chin, paired with garage cut bangs that hung above her brown eyes. These brown eyes were surrounded with black eyeshadow and black drawn eyebrows, with cupid-bow red lips. She kinda resembles my sister...
"I'm Natalie," she greets, "but in there, they call me Goldie." She nods at a barely noticeable handle in the brick wall, and I arch a brow.
No, she's exactly like my sister, it seems. Maybe it's a coincidence, maybe she's my great grandmother or something. Either way, she seems like a good ally to have in a town like this.
"Is that a speakeasy in there?" I ask, and she nods a confirmation. "Yeah, it is a thrill. But damn, the boys there think they all high and mighty just 'cuz they in the maf!"
She was spewing information easily, something must be making her stressed. She's probably a bit buzzed, too, seeming how easily she phrases it.
"That sucks," I reply, leaning against the wall. "I'd give them a piece of my mind if I were you."
"But the thing is, they have their big guns, and their baby guns, and their boss." Natalie takes another drag, "Besides, a woman named 'Goldie' ain't that scary."
"I'm Ivy Adams, and that name can be particularly fear invoking, if you know what I mean. I'm new in these parts, so I can make myself seem scarier," I commented, taking the last name of my past boyfriend 'Michael Adams' in case using my real last name here could cause a time paradox. "So, I assume you're a singer?" I ask, and Natalie shrugs. "I guess, I mean I'm a hoofer because the new singer 'quit' because Iz hated her voice. Thank the Lord that Iz isn't here t'night, or else I'd have a bullet in my head!"
"And it's not like you can advertise for a singer position at a Speakeasy," I comment, and Natalie bobs her head, some stray hairs bouncing as she did.
"Exactly! Will you be a witness when I sign my will?" Natalie asks, and I laugh a reply.
"Wait! Since you're new in town, do you have a place to stay?" Natalie asks suddenly, and I shake my head. "Nah, all I have are the clothes on my back."
"Great! If you replace the singer, you get a free place to stay. With me!" Natalie states, and I smile.
Yes, a place to stay! I'd also love to see underground American work up close too...
"It's a deal!" I reply, sticking out a hand as we both shake on it.
"Come with me, I am done here for the night. If someone complains, I'll just complain about 'lady problems,' it's only dumb bimbos in there," Natalie rants, as we walk away from the hole in the wall Speakeasy. I laugh, feeling at ease in her presence.
"So, I was thinking we should have new songs, y'know?" I ask, leaning against the wall on the twin bed that previously belonged to the singer of the Speakeasy, who was presumably dead. Now I had all her things because Natalie couldn't find her family, which included dresses that fit me perfectly.
"Why?" Natalie asked, taking a drag from her cigarette, puffing out an 'O'.
"Because, I don't know what songs the old singer did, and it might be fun learning new things." She puffed out a new 'O,' this one making me cough. "And, uh, fun fact, your teeth will fall out if you smoke-"
"I'm done!" Natalie says, tapping the cigarette on the ash tray, proceeding to snap the cigarette in half. "My boyfriend broke up with his last honey 'cuz she lacked teeth and it was dentures the whole time! I love ciggies, but this has got to"
Well, that went better than I expected.
"Alright, so this is the plan..."
"It's 4:30, it takes a few blocks to get there, we arrive at 5:15, eat at 5:30, finish at 6:00, perform from 6:30-7:30, and take an hour break. From 6:00-8:00 is when the business-boys are there, the ones who just want a quickie," Natalie says, applying a glossy dark red to her lips. "They don't have any business with the big boys."
"The big boys are the maf, right?" I reply, adjusting the headpiece on my hair.
"Attagirl! Finally, we perform from 9:00-10:00 for them. We want to get out of there real quick, at least before 11:00 when they start getting jazzed. Let's get a wiggle on now!"
I barely understood what she was talking about. Oh well, I'll just do as I'm told.
"Alright," I say, brushing off my dress, running my fingers over the silver patterns. The dress was a black skoop neck with an attached choker around my neck, the dress ending at my mid-thigh while fringes came off the entire dress.
Natalie's dress was the same as mine but hers was gold instead. We both had black bands around our forehead, mine with a purple feather sticking out while hers a blue. My makeup was a dark red lipstick with black eyeshadow and a thin layer of eyeliner and mascara. Though I'd prefer to go makeupless, it would be odd for me not to have any makeup on. Tying the black lace mask around my face, Natalie copies my moves by adjusting her gold one. Adjusting the pearl necklace around my neck, I put on my overcoat and tied it tight.
"Ready?" I ask, and she nods as we walk out of the apartment and to the hole in the wall alley.
"Obviously, we only have to do this Tuesday an' Friday night. I must warn you, Friday nights are usually when Iz is here," Natalie says, and I arch a brow.
"Iz?"
"You don't know who Iz is?!" Natalie asks, eyes wide with shock, thin brows raised in a questioning manner.
"I don't know current events very well, sorry. I came from a small part of California and Michigan," I say truthfully, scratching the back of my neck awkwardly.
"Iz Capone! The sheik Italian gangster who's only in his early 20s, yet he's the boss of the Chicago Outfit!" Natalie says, and my eyes widen.
I remember reading about Izzet Capone in history books. He was friends with the mayor, so he could escape most convictions, and the public adored him for 10 years.
Until he was shot 45 times by firing squad at age 40. Poor man...
"Duh! I heard about a guy called Izzet Capone in my town, but I never associated Iz with Izzet," I lie, as Natalie laughs.
"Don't worry, but don't call him Izzet. He's pretty hard-boiled, so don't get on his bad side," Natalie informs, "Do you have a stage name?"
"Uh, no?" My answer caused Natalie to face palm. "You never give out your real name here, in case someone sells you out. Mine is Goldie, because of my blonde hair. You can be Violet because of yours or somethin'," she says, opening the hole in the wall as we step inside to see a set of staircases leading downward.
Alright, I guess I'm Violet...?
"This is one of the most private Speakeasy's around, only rich men with connections get in or the Chicago Outfit. You hardly see any women here, maybe one or two a week," Natalie says lowly to me, as we step down the metal staircases one by one in our heels.
Clack, clack, clack.
"Knock on the door twice," Natalie says to me, as I look at the wood door, knocking on it twice. A small circular panel moves swiftly to the side, allowing a single brown eye to look down at us.
"Password?" He asks in a gruff voice, as Natalie clears her throat. "Rag-a-Muffin."
"Enter," he says, flipping the panel closed as the door swings open, allowing us inside.
It was a dimly lit room, with red brick walls and a yellow-black tile pattern coating the floors. Wooden chairs with plush, red seats surrounded wooden tables, white napkins shaped like triangles plopped in front of each chair. In the center of each table was a small cup of water with a dark red rose in it. A few circular booths were in the corner, each with a dark red curtain hung open around it. A bartender behind the wooden bar cleaned out the glasses with a white cloth as a man in a suit smoked a cigar, glass of liquor in front of him. A black painted stage was in front of this, jazz instruments placed on it with a tap board and a singer's microphone.
"Welcome to the Rose Room, the best gin mill in the Chicago Area," Natalie says, "soak it all in."
"Welcome back, Natalie," the bartender calls, and I turn to look at him. Light brown hair waved back paired with twinkling light blue eyes and a small mole under his pink lips upturned in a smile, he was pretty damn cute.
"Hello Rob, how are you?" Natalie coos, walking over to the bar and leaning over, planting a kiss on 'Rob's' cheek. Turning back to me, Natalie beams a bright smile.
"This is my daddy, Rob," Natalie says, and I nod in understanding. He looked pretty young to be a father, but oh well!
"Oh! I didn't know your father works here. I'm Violet," I greet, as Rob and Natalie start laughing.
"Sorry Rob, I forgot to explain that Ivy isn't the best with slang," Natalie says to Rob, and he chuckles slightly, turning to me.
What does that mean?! Back in my day, I was considered a 'meme queen,' meaning I was with the slang!
Gah, I feel so weird and old now by saying 'with the slang!'
"My Doll calls me Daddy because I'm her boyfriend, not her father," he explains, wrapping an arm around her waist and I nearly choke.
DADDY?! Alright, I get the 'gin mill' slang, but really? Daddy is so dirty and kinky from where I come from, and I just thought here it would mean father...
"Oops..." I say, feeling a rush of heat come to my face. This was so embarrassing!
"Anyway, Violet is the new singer here, replacing the ol' one," Natalie says to Rob, and he smiles towards me.
"Welcome to the Rose Room family then! You'll meet the band later when they arrive, and Natalie always likes coming early to talk with me." Natalie jumps onto the counter, swinging her legs over so she stands next to Rob.
"Rob and I are going to, er, talk in the backroom since it's slow right now. Can you man the bar for a bit in case somebody tries to snag the hooch?" Natalie asks, and I sigh.
They're definitely not going to the backroom to talk.
"Alright, sure. I can make a mean margarita in case anyone comes over!" I boast, and the couple look at me confused.
"What's a margarita?" Natalie asks, and I nearly face palm. I don't know when margaritas were invented!
"A drink, now I bet you both have very important things to talk about!" I wave them off as they walk into the backroom excitedly, and I go behind the bar.
The guy at the bar smoking a cigar looks at me from under his tipped fedora, flaps of his trench coat flipped up so I can't see his face. All I can see are his blue eyes from under his fedora.
"What's a margarita?" He asks, voice slightly different from what I expected (in a good way), and I look at him.
"You want one?" I ask, and he shrugs. "Depends, what's in it?"
"Mainly tequila," I say, looking at the rack of liquors. "I can't make one for you if I don't have any, so if I have any I'll make one for you..."
There was none on the rack, and I sigh. I want something to do, so if I don't do anything it's going to be really awkward if I don't do anything...
"There may be some under the counter, wait a moment," I squat down, and open a cabinet. Sticking my hand on an empty glass bottle, my eyes glow blue momentarily as the empty glass fills up with tequila.
Smirking to myself, I stand back up, shaking the bottle of tequila. "What do you know, I just so happen to have some."
Reaching back under the counter, I grab a a bottle of triple sec, some sea salt and a lime. Pulling out a knife from the cutlery, I begin slicing the lime into quarters."What are you doing?" The man asks, eyes curious as he watches me. Grabbing a martini glass, I wet the rim with the lime.
"A margarita experience," I reply, getting out a small dish. Pouring some salt onto the dish, I rim the martini glass with salt.
"Salt on a drink?" He asks, and I nod. Grabbing the cocktail mixer by the icebox, I fill the mixer 2/3 with ice.
"1 or 2 shots of tequila?" I ask, and he looks confused. "Excuse me?"
"How many shots of tequila you want?" I ask, and he shrugs. "I'll do 2."
"Alright," I say, pouring an estimation of 2 shots into the mixer. Adding the estimation of 1 shot of triple sec into the drink, I take out a shot glass and I begin squeezing the lime juice into it. Once the shot glass is full, I dump that into the mixer.
I switch the lid close of the mixer, and I shake it vigorously for a bit, before pouring the shaker into the cocktail glass. Taking the lime and squashing it on the rim, I place it in front of the man.
"Drink up," I say, as the man hesitantly moves his trench coat flap aside, revealing a red mustache as he takes a sip, eyes widening.
"This is pretty strong, but really good. And...sour," he says, eyes crinkling from the sour taste. Chuckling slightly, I put away the ingredients.
"D'ya like it, at least?" I ask, and he nods. "Definitely not what I was expecting. Do you drink often?"
"Actually, I don't drink at all," I truthfully admit, "one of my friends was a bartender-"
...on a mission in California when she went undercover as a bartender.
"-and sometimes I helped her out-"
I would be at the bar when she worked, observing for suspicious behavior.
"-and I picked up some tricks from her."
I watched her make over 100 types of drinks over the course of a month, and I memorized the exact pattern of how to make them. I learn from watching someone do something, and watching someone do the exact same things for over a month really sears it into your brain.
"That's interesting, was this at another gin mill?" The man asks, and I hesitantly nod. "Yeah, but it's not in Chicago."
It's in Canada.
"Oh, so you're from outta town?" He asks, and I nod. "Yeah, I'm from Michigan."
"That's swell," he says, finishing his drink. "I gotta get out, back to work."
"What do you do?" I ask, and he hesitantly opens his trench coat slightly, revealing a police badge, 'Inspector' labelled on it.
"I'm an inspector," he whispers, and I arch a brow as he closes his coat. "This an odd sight, what are you doing here if it's illegal?"
He chuckles slightly, "Doll, Chicago is the number one city alongside New York for gin mills. Almost the entire police force is at some speakeasy, including the captain."
"Alright, but are you gonna bust this place?" I ask, and he laughs, shaking his head.
"The police couldn't crack this place, even if it was like dropping an egg down the stairs. Chicago Outfit has connections, and everyone associated with bustin' this place would be fired or have a bullet in their head. Besides, the entire" He says, and I chuckle.
"That's good, I'm Violet." I say, sticking my hand out to shake.
"Fred Abberline, pleasure." He shakes my hand, as my eyes
Fred Abberline? Isn't that from...Kuroshitsuji?
"Alright, have a nice day," I say, as he pays, then leaves the bar and I'm left alone, save for the guerilla guarding the door. Looking at the clock, I notice it's 5:45, and I was supposed to eat 15 minutes ago. I guess I'll just have to eat before I arrive...
My stomach growls, and I sigh. I can't leave the counter! A light bulb strikes me, as a smirk grows on my face. Squatting down and reaching under the counter, I summon a bowl of goldfish and stand back up, setting the bowl on the counter as I pour myself a glass of water. Snacking on the goldfish and water, I set them aside as another person came up to the counter.
"Martini," the man says, and I make him a martini. He sits down as I pass it to him, and I look at him from the corner of my eye. He has pentagonal black glasses framing his chartreuse phosphorescent eyes, blonde hair dyed black at the bottom, he flashed me a smirk. His black suit ruffled slightly, as he leaned against the bar slightly.
Ronald Knox.
"So Doll, what's your name?" He asks, "It's not everyday I see a pretty thing such as yourself working at a gin mill."
Don't call him out as a reaper, Ivy. Let this play out a bit more, besides, reapers can't see witch auras since they're the same as human auras...
"We don't give out names to strangers here," I say, even though I literally just gave my name out to a policeman. How ironic.
"We won't be strangers no more if you tell me your name." Ronald smirks, and I roll my eyes. I knew that the British Division and American Division for shinigamis had merged, but I really don't feel like getting hit on by Ronald Knox all the time. I'd rather meet under better circumstances. Besides, if he's here right now, it means someone is going to die nearby.
I'm silent as I clean the counter, looking at the clock. 6:00, only 30 more minutes.
"I apologize, I was advised not to trust anyone with greeny-yellow eyes, that's what my grandmother told me. I'm sure you're a swell person," I lie, and he arches a brow.
"What do you mean?" He asks, and I smirk. Time to call him out!
"Well, she said death is always nearby a person with 'em," I say, looking him in the eyes. "Almost like they're grim reapers." Giving a flirtatious wink, he snorts a laugh.
"Girls usually find my eyes charming," Ronald complains, crossing his arms, "that really hurts my feelings."
"Suck it up, I'm not a sappy person," I giggle, "you have the it factor for most girls, but not me."
"I'll have to keep coming back then," he says, smirking slightly, "I don't have business here tonight, I only wanted a drink."
"That's good, I hope your business goes well," I say as he pulls out money, sliding it towards me.
"See ya, Doll. I'll get your name eventually," he says with a smirk. "My stage name is Violet, but my real name is a bit harder to get," I smirk a reply, and he chuckles. With a wave, he walks out of the room, leaving me alone again.
Natalie comes back out with Rob, and I leave the behind-the counter area to face Natalie. "It's 6:30, and the band is done settin' up. Are you ready?" She asks, leading me to the staircase to the stage.
"Yeah, I am," I say, inhaling through my nose as Natalie and I step onto the stage. The lights dim, and the room is quiet.
I whistle a tune as the man on the piano flows his fingers over the keys, his eyes following the sheet music.
(A/N: Play '
Bad Romance - Postmodern Jukebox: Reboxed ft. Sara Niemietz & The Sole Sisters)
I finish as the rest of the instruments kick in, Natalie begins tap dancing to the beat.
"I want your ugly
I want your disease," I sing, flaring my hands out to the side.
"I want your everything
As long as it's free
I want your love
Love-love-love I want your love," Natalie steps steps to the beat as I flare my hands towards a different position. Oh, this is so dramatic and I love it!
"I want your drama
The touch of your hand
I want your leather-studded kiss in the sand
I want your love
Love-love-love
I want your love
Love-love-love I want your love," I sing, as the bass behind me seems to get slightly louder.
"You know that I want you
And you know that I need you
I want it bad, your bad romance," I say, the instruments and Natalie's dancing growing louder.
"I want your love and
I want your revenge
You and me could write a bad romance," the music peaks as the beat pops. Natalie does a dance solo, as I look at how her feet flutter before I turn back to the mic.
"I want your love and
All your lover's revenge
You and me could write a bad romance!"
"Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!
Caught in a bad romance
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!
Caught in a bad romance," I pretend to wipe away a tear as if I was in a bad romance, but I haven't had many romances in the past...
Just one bad romance...
"Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah-ah!" The music quiets slightly as Natalie and I strike similar poses.
"Roma-roma-mamaa!
Ga-ga-ooh-la-la!
Want your bad romance!"
"I want your horror
I want your design," I sing, pointing in the general crowd direction.
"'Cause you're a criminal
As long as you're mine," pulling my finger back to my chest, I place my hand over my heart AMERICAN STYLE!
"I want your love," I sing slightly quieter, drawing them all in. Natalie starts dancing slightly heavier and faster-
"Love-love-love I want your love!" I sing louder.
"I want your psycho
Your vertigo shtick
Want you in my rear window
Baby you're sick," I shake my head, waving my hand in a free manner.
"I want your love
Love-love-love
I want your love," I take both of my hands, and starting at my waist I rise them up above my hands, forcing my voice to growl slightly at the end.
"I want your love and
I want your revenge
You and me could write a bad romance!" I sing louder with more passion, throwing my hands down. Natalie's dancing peaks as she does more eccentric moves.
"I want your love and
All your lover's revenge
You and me could write a bad romance!" I hold out the word 'romance' before cutting off with the piano stop. Natalie begins dancing, and I flare my hips with every new piano note. The beat begins to pick up, before slowing slightly.
"I want your love and
I want your revenge," I sing, looking into the crowd.
"I want your love
I don't wanna be friends!"
"Je veux ton amour
Et je veux ta revenge
Je veux ton amour," Ah, the only French I can speak: the Lady Gaga part and saying the words 'Je suis croissant' to all my friends in French to annoy them. Natalie's feet seems to trill across the floor, the piano beginning to pick up.
"I don't wanna be friends...
I don't wanna be friends
I don't wanna be friends," My voice grows louder, as I throw my hands out.
"Want your bad romance!"
The trumpet flares as I step back from the mic, Natalie dancing so hard I'm surprised the board didn't break.
"Want your bad romance!" Stepping back to the mic, I drawl my voice dramatically.
"Let's write a bad romance."
"I want your love and
I want your revenge
You and me could write a bad romance
I want your love and
All your lover's revenge
You and me could write a bad romance!" Natalie's dance reminds me of a moon flower blooming. It starts to grow after sunset, and once it hits its peak it must disappear to return the next time as it did before. She seemed to be beginning to close on the song.
"Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!
Caught in a bad romance
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!
Caught in a bad romance," I finish with the whistle of the tune, holding the last note as Natalie does a little twirl. I step back from the mic, breathing hard as Natalie does a little curtsy. No one applauds, until someone wolf whistles and we get a lot of applause. Smiling to Natalie, I walk behind the stage curtains where a chair was and sat down. Natalie begins her dancing act, as I take a sip of water.
I really don't do much as a singer, Natalie does the main show. I usually only sing a few songs, which works well with me. Crossing my legs, I submerge myself into thought. If Ronald Knox was in America, it means that the Reaper Organization in Britain has merged with the American one, so I'll certainly be seeing more British reapers. But I don't get why I saw Inspector Abberline, in the manga Kuroshitsuji was set during the 1880s, and the cases during then would be completely different from when they are now. It could mean that Ciel would be a demon, but that would mean Inspector Abberline would be an old man, which he is not...
So, was the manga a lie and it was during the 1920s when Ciel existed? Or it means tha-
Something's touching my nose... looking down, I notice that the long pearl necklace was slowly floating upwards, and I do a small growl of frustration as it plops back down to my chest.
My magic could be affected by my emotions at times, usually if I'm deep in thought random things start to float, including me at times.
Natalie continued dancing, and soon she and I switched places. I sang a quick song, before trading places with Natalie once again. Finally, I went back on at the end of our set, we did another duet-thing, before walking to where I was sitting earlier.
"Is this normal?" I ask, and she shrugs. "Friday nights are iffy, if there's a baseball game earlier in the day it'll be crowded here, but if its later in the day it won't be crowded and we'll do half the set. On Tuesday there's half the amount of people, but big boys are usually here earlier. Come on, let's go to our booth."
"Our booth?" I ask, as she nods, leading me to a brick wall. Pushing on it, she reveals a small hallway, and we walk down it. Closing the brick behind us, I follow Natalie.
"This is an escape route available to only performers and workers, it's accessible from the bar too. The Chicago Outfit know about it, but have their own routes," Natalie says, "it leads far away from here, so we store running flats in here because heels aren't very swell to run in. Last summer we added a small pathway that comes from our booth in case we're not performing."
"Really? That's pretty cool, I didn't even notice the brick wall door," I say, as she nods, pushing on a brick wall to my right. It half-opens, revealing a small booth with dark red curtains covering it from the outside view. Sitting down in a plush seat, Natalie closes the brick wall, and I look at the table.
"Spaghetti and meatballs?" I ask, looking at the plate in front of me as Natalie nods. "We get free meals between performances, but that's because Rob persuaded Iz to let us, and Rob makes the food for us, too," Natalie admits as I begin eating.
Oh, I'm so hungry!
"Rob makes a great spaghetti," I admit, as Natalie nods, cheeks equally full. "So," Natalie says, swallowing her spaghetti, "how old are you Violet? You look young because of your height, but you're probably in your early 20s to get a job here."
"Actually, I'm only 15, I turn 16 April 1st." Natalie's eyes bug out as she looks me up and down. "You have the figure of a 20 year old though, but height of a 10 year old!"
Gee, that sure made me happy. "Well, how old are you?" I ask, as Natalie smirks.
"I'm 23," she says, and my eyes go wide. "I thought you were, like, 18!" I say, and she laughs.
"Thank you," she coos, "Rob's 26, but he looks like he's in his early 20s."
"Woah!" I reply, and she laughs. "Yeah, I think he's lookin' to settle down soon, though. I've been with my daddy for 2 years now, so I hope he pops the question soon..."
"I cannot wait for your wedding, then." I smile brightly, and she laughs.
"You can pass as the flower girl with your height!"
"Hey! That's mean!" I laugh as I attempt to make an angry face.
"Is my favorite little lady in here?" A deeper, male voice with a heavy Chicago-gangster sounding voice says outside the curtain, and Natalie looks at me in the eyes, giving me a short nod.
That must mean-
"Yes, Iz, I'm in here!" She calls back, as the curtain pulls open to reveal a handsome Italian man. He had a tan complexion with dark hair under a bowler hat and bushy eyebrows, dark brown eyes completing the look. He had bit of a baby face, which complemented his rounder nose and lips.
"Hello Goldie, how's it swingin'?" The man called 'Iz' asks, and she smiles. "Good, this is my friend Violet who's the new singer here."
Iz turns to me, and I smile slightly. "I'm Violet, nice to meet you."
"Likewise," Iz says, sitting down next to me as we shake hands. "Yous better do a good job up there, or else," he says darkly, and I nod quickly. "I understand, Mr. Iz!"
"Ahhh, I'm joking with ya!" He laughs, and Violet and I uneasily laugh, knowing the past fate of the last singer.
"Now Violet, you can't tell nobody about the Rose Room, or else it's big trouble, a'ight?" Iz asks, and I nod.
"Good, I'm heavily awaiting your performance. Good luck," he says, leaving the booth as he swishes the curtains behind him.
Finishing my spaghetti, Natalie and I use the secret entrance back to the stage as we walk onto it again. It was 9:00 now, and there was a heavier smell of cigars in the room. I saw some guns placed on the table at ease, as shadier characters entered the bar. Looking toward Natalie, I inhale and begin whistling...
10:00.
"Thank you." I give a short bow to the audience as they applaud loudly and roughly, "And have a good night!"
Natalie and I quickly leave the stage through the secret tunnel, standing by the bar's entrance into the cave.
"At this time, all the workers usually go home, and a guerilla replaces the bartender. They do their business at this time, and they don't wanna risk anyone over hearin'." Natalie explains, and I nod as Rob comes out of the entrance, enveloping Natalie in a kiss. He tosses us our duffel coats, as we put them on.
"Yeah, and Rob holds onto our coats for us too," Natalie says, breaking away from the kiss as we put on our coats. We walk to the booth entrance, enter it was we swish open the curtains and step out.
"Violet!" A gruff voice says, and I turn to Iz. Now that we were both standing up, I notice he was almost a good foot taller than me.
Damn tall people!
"Hi Iz," I say, looking up at him, "how are you?"
"Great, you swing swell, betta' than the last one," Iz says with a smile revealing slightly yellowing test and the breath of a cigar, "welcome to the Rose Room. Since you're a worker here now, you gotta do the initiation."
"Initiation?" I echo, as Natalie places a hand on my shoulder. "Iz, Violet is only 15, she ain't a majority yet."
"Any person who works here can handle a drink or two," Iz says with a shrug, and Natalie sighs.
"Iz, but you're gonna give a minor a drink or two, get her drunk, then have her do...that?!" She asks, and I raise a brow.
"What's 'that'?!" I ask
"I can't reveal, against the code," Natalie hesitantly reveals with a sigh, as Iz rolls his eyes.
"We won't let her die, don't worry." Iz chuckles, as Natalie makes an annoyed sound.
"Rob nearly cut his whole hand off, and he's the most skilled with his hands here! I burnt off a chunk of my hair!"
"Yeah, that was hilarious! But it grew back, so don't worry." Iz laughs, and Natalie sighs. "Can I at least stay and make sure she gets home safe?"
"Rules are rules, Goldie. We'll have someone walk her home like we did with ya," Iz says, and I look between the both of them.
What's going on?!
"Alright," Natalie sighs, turning to me and giving me a big hug. "Stay safe, Violet. I expect you to return home in one piece."
Natalie turns to leave, giving me one last glance before walking out with a seemingly remorseful Rob. Iz places a hand on my shoulder, pulling me to the bar and sitting me down in a chair.
"Welcome to initiation, Violet. If you complete it, you're a worker here. If you can't, you get booted," Iz says as the guerilla behind the bar slides me a shot of a clear liquid that smells strongly. I nearly snort a laugh.
Moonshine. It seemed pretty concentrated and smelt better than some I've had in the past.
"Moonshine, right?" I ask, as Iz nods. The other maf members laugh, and I look at them all.
"Iz, ya makin' a lil' girl drink ya' strongest stuff?" A gruff voice asks, and Iz nods. "She seems like she can handle it."
"Well, I ain't gonna beat around the bush," I shrug, taking the shot glassand knocking it all back. It left a strong taste in my mouth and burnt fire down my throat, but I've done worse.
I remember once my friends and I were on a mission, and a guy on this mission could knock back 6 full glasses of moonshine. He was a legend, but he got so drunk he started making out with a tree.
Ew.
Looking at the bartender, I slid him my glass. "I'll take another."
I can knock back 4 max without feeling too drunk and wobbily, but a second glass will be enough to scare them. He hesitantly pours me another glass, which I knock back easily.
"Alright, I drank your moonshine," I say, turning to Iz. "Whatcha want now."
"We wait 30 minutes for you to get drunk," Iz chuckles, leering down at me. "You made an unwise decision taking two glasses."
30 minutes later.
Honestly, I wasn't that drunk. I wouldn't drive a car or walk a tightrope like this in case I got pulled over, and my feet felt cold, but other than that it was fine.
"Now, Violet, take these 10 knives and throw them at the dart boards," Iz says, placing 10 steak knives in a row on the table. "If you get 3 on the dart board, we will proceed."
Easy. Looking at the dartboards on each wall, I notice there was 5. So, if I do two per board it will be fine.
"Alright," I say, as I stand up and grab a knife. The boys start laughing, and I glare at them.
"I'll bet you boys that I can hit each board standing from here," I say, and they laugh even louder.
"DRY UP!" Iz shouts, as the room goes quiet. Iz looks at me, arching a brow. "What's da bet?"
"Everyone here gives me 5 dollars if I win, and if they win I'll wear a bunny costume when I perform next Friday night." I watch as some of the guys' faces turn red, while others laugh.
"It's a deal, which is an automatic win for all of us. Get ready to wear a Bunny costume, lil' Bun," Iz coos mockingly, and I roll my eyes and pick up a knife. Flicking my wrist back and releasing it forward, the knife sails through the air and lands on the 19 inside green.
"Oh, look at that," I say, grabbing another knife.
"Dumb luck," Iz says, as I release another knife into the red circle in the center.
I continue throwing them with ease, landing them all on the board as I turn to look at everyone's shocked faces.
"You're right Iz, it's dumb luck that I made all of those so easily. Pay up boys!" I coo, as everyone groans, pulling out 5 dollar wads from their pockets, sticking them on the counter in front of me.
"Uh, Violet, got change for a twenty?" Iz asks, holding the twenty between two fingers as I start shoving the 5 dollars in my pocket.
"Nope, I'll take the twenty though," I say, plucking it from his fingers and shoving it in my pocket, causing his jaw to drop.
"Just give me 3 fives!"
"I apologize, but your currency has to be exact," I state, and he sweat drops.
"Whatever, onto the second part of initiation. Prick your finger onto this needle," Iz says, revealing a needle. I prick my finger, passing the needle back to Iz as blood begins welling up on my finger.
"Now, place your finger on this card," Iz instructs, holding up what appears to be a tarot card. I arch a brow, looking at the inscription of the card.
"Archangel Samael?" I ask, remembering that's the name of my old school. "Yes, the Archangel of Death. We swear to it," Iz says, as I swipe my bloodied finger onto the card.
A guerilla flicks open a pocket lighter, setting the card's corner on fire. "Pass it 'round!" Iz orders, as everyone passes the card around until it was completely on fire, which ended in the sink and watered down. A small patch of smoke came from the sink as Iz gave me a smile.
"Welcome to the Rose Room, Moll. We gave you half of our maf-initiation since you're a worker, meaning if you're in a tight position we'll help you out. It also means you can't betray the Rose Room and give away info, which is pretty easy on your part." Iz says, and I smile.
"Great, wait, doesn't Moll mean a gangster's girl?!" I ask, and everyone laughs.
"Any girl who walks into here is automatically a Moll, Bun. Violet may be your stage name, but you're like a lil' bunny!" Iz cackles, pinching my cheeks. I give him a glare, slapping his hand away. Everyone looks at me with wide eyes, but I ignore them. I've hit away more powerful men than Iz.
"Don't be a meanie," I grumble, retying my coat. "I'm heading home, g'night." I march out of there before anyone can offer to take me back home.
3 Months Later, September 1st, 1925.
"We're moving out today?" I ask, looking at Natalie with arched brows. Today was my first day at school, I'd be attending as a Junior. A normal school at that, which was even stranger. The uniform was a white collared shirt underneath a dark red blazer with a black tie, knee-high socks and loafers. I wore a black skirt that ended at my knees to complete this ensemble. My hair wasn't purple at the end, which had attracted some attention from the crowd at Rose Room, but it was my signature thing. I had entrusted the knowledge of me being a witch to Natalie and Rob as they had sworn to keep it secret for as long as they lived, so when I went to school it was going to be a normal brown. When I went to the Rose Room, I could allow it to be purple.
And how did they react, you may ask?
Turns out that Rob's grandmother is a woman named 'Conall Taylor,' and she was an alleged witch. And when I tried remembering stuff, I remember I had a great-grandfather named Rob Taylor and a great grandmother named 'Natalie Taylor', which explains the similarities between Natalie here and Natalie in the future...because Natalie is actually my great grandmother, which is eerily creepy, but makes a lot of sense. I share the same eyes as Rob, and Natalie in the future shares the same qualities as Natalie in the past dancing-wise. But the Natalie in the future is more timid, which is probably to do with my mother's timid personality.
And after 2 months of me living in this era, Rob finally popped the question and proposed to Natalie. She said yes, obviously, so she'd become Natalie Taylor. So, today while I'm at school Rob is bringing our stuff to his larger apartment, which is 3 rooms and 2 bathrooms, which is pretty large for Chicago. I'd be staying with them since Natalie doesn't 'want to abandon me', so I'll be walking to school from there.
And what school am I going to, you may ask? Well, I'm going to a mixed private school called De La Malle, where rich children, people with connections or mafia kids go.
How did I get in? Because Natalie nagged Iz to get me in for at least a week until he finally budged and allowed me in on one condition:
I'd have to pay off my dues as a bartender 3-10 on Monday, Wednesday, Thursday and Saturday. Yay. Shouldn't have showed off my skills against Rob...
I've seen Inspector Abberline at the bar often and we've chit-chatted, but I haven't seen Ronald back again, which is oddly comforting. But, I have a creeping feeling he'll be back again soon.
"Yes, Ivy. Oh my goodness, I can't believe my little baby is going to school for the first time in Chicago! Rob, take a photo of Ivy and I!" Natalie demands, passing the large camera over to Rob. Rob takes it as Natalie and I wrap our arms around eachother, beaming brightly. Rob snaps a photo, and I pull from Natalie.
"I've got to start walking, I'll see you guys later at the new apartment!" I say, waving to them as I leave the apartment and begin walking to school.
I haven't been to school since Archangels of Samael, and we had different classes compared to regular classes in 2016 and 1925. I was advised to take 'women' classes such as Home-Ec and basic English classes, but I wasn't going to have any of that.
Iz and I may have yelled at the principal. So, I'm in all the advanced courses I want, though I'm sad there's only 'Latin' for language classes, which is pretty dumb, and it's AP Latin. Like, if you don't even take Latin 1, how are you going to do an AP Latin class?! So instead of Latin, I can leave early at the end of the day, or stay for a study hall.
Which, frankly, works great for me.
Walking to the gates of the school, I walk inside the gates, looking at the hustle and bustle of students. Most had been together already for 2 years, so they've already known each other for a bit. This makes me kind of sad, I miss all my old friends at St. Samael's...
Walking to my first classroom, I hear the pattering of feet. Looking down at a brown blur that runs past me, my eyebrows crease.
What the?!
"What the-" I start, when I feel a body knock into mine from the back. Falling forward, I brace myself as I hit the ground.
"Ugh," I say, looking up to see a girl looking nervous. She was pretty cute, with dark brown hair in a bob and dark brown eyes which complemented her cappuccino-colored skin. She had a plaid-dress uniform in white and red...
What?
Looking around, I noticed that all the girls had a black-and-red dress...god damn it! Now I look like a special-snowflake!
"Oh! I'm so sorry!" She apologizes, and I smile. "Don't worry...can you please get off me now?"
"Of course!" She says, standing up and pulling me up. She was an inch or two taller than me, meaning she was short too!
Haha!
"Um, is this your rabbit?" A guy asks from behind me, and I turn to see a boy with curly black hair parted down the middle, curling at the tip. He had dark brown eyes complimented by pale skin, a pair of large, circular glasses framing his face.
"Yes! Thank you!" The girl says, and I look down to see a rabbit in the boy's arms, coated in light brown fur.
"Uh, why do you have a rabbit?" I ask, and she sheepishly takes the rabbit from the boy.
"My mom's a teacher, and she wanted me to bring the class pet 'Lola' to her class. That's the rabbit's name, my name's Dora." Dora says, rushing her words. She seems kind of timid, but sweet.
"I'm Russell Woodruff, pleasure." Russell pushes up his glasses with his middle finger.
"I'm Ivy Adams, and today's my first day here. I'm glad to meet you all!" I cheerfully say, and Dora gives me a small smile as Russell nods at me.
"Dora, what class do you have first? I'm in room..." I start, looking at my papers, "N23."
"Oh, all my classes are in the South Wing," Dora says, and I turn to Russell, who's sporting a slightly shocked look.
"What about you, Rusty?" I ask.
"Rusty?" He asks, and I shrug. "That can be a nickname for Russell, right?"
"I suppose. I'm in room N23 second period, so I don't have that currently. But, I'll be in room N25, so I can walk you there," he says, and I smile. "Thanks!"
Turning to Dora, I notice how she's looking at the pet 'Lola' awkwardly. "I, uh, I'll get going," she says quietly, before running off.
"Huh, Dora seems pretty nice," I say as Rusty and I start walking inside.
"I've seen her around, she's pretty timid and quiet. So, how many North campus classes are you taking? They have an N before them," Rusty asks, as I look at my schedule.
"It seems like all my classes are over here, but instead of my last period being class 7 I get to go home since I'm not taking AP Latin," I say, rolling my eyes. "Is Latin 1 available to all students to take first year or something?"
"Well, most of us have learned Latin bases as a child, or read pieces of literature in Latin. Do you speak any foreign languages?" He asks, and I think.
"I know Spanish pretty well, can speak some verbal Mandarin, Russian and Hindi phrases. You?" I ask, and he sighs.
"Just Latin."
"That's pretty cool!" I say, and he nods.
"Going back to the topic of you having all N classes, that must be why you have a jacket," Rusty says, and I arch a brow.
"Really?" I ask, looking at the jacket.
"Well, they might've tried to send you to the South campus. No girls really come here," Rusty says, and I sigh, drooping my shoulders.
"That sucks, I won't have any girl friends here with me in class...oh well," I say, looking around the wooden hallways. "N23 is here, I'll see you later Rusty!"
"Farewell, Ivy." He walks to the room next to mine as I enter the classroom. It was pretty small, wooden, and had 15 chairs and desks in rows of 5.
Taking a chair in the back by the window, I could see the entirety of Chicago from this window. Everything's so different, yet the same in some way in the future. I could see the Tribune Tower from here...
"What's a dame doin' in here?" A voice asks, as I look to see the room had completely filled up with boys. Was I the only girl here?
"Maybe she's lost? She looks like a freshman, maybe she stole her brother's clothes..." another voice replies as the teacher enters the classroom, and class begins.
Awkwardly looking at the books, I ignored the stares as I listened to the teacher drone on.
LUNCH
"Dora! Hey!" I wave to her in the cafeteria, bounding over to her with my paper bagged lunch. Dora looks down at me, and she waves slightly.
"Dora, can I eat with you today at lunch since I'm new?" I ask, "I really don't know anyone yet."
"Sure," Dora says, "I usually eat in the courtyard, so..."
"Alright!" I say, as we walk outside to the courtyard and sit on a picnic table under a tree's shade.
"Wow, this is pretty nice-"
"Ivy, Dora, may I sit with you? This seems like a quiet spot great for studying," Rusty asks, approaching us. "Sure Rusty!"
Turning to Dora, I sigh, "I'm so frustrated! In all of my classes the guys think it's weird a girl is in there."
"It is kinda weird, most girls are at the South campus, where we learn things most guys don't need," she admits quietly, and I throw my hands up in frustration.
"But that's sexist! Women have the right to vote, yet society believes all we do is sit around and do work at home!" I exclaim, "You could be smarter than any man here, yet no one would take you seriously as a woman."
"I agree, but we can only prove our worth..." Dora sighs, "How did you even get into North classes?"
"I asked and bartered," I reply, "and got what I wanted."
"And how rich are you?" Rusty asks, peeking over his book.
"I'm not rich at all, actually. I got into this school through hard work, and I'm not going to do something I dislike if I worked so hard to be here," I say, taking a bite of my peanut butter jelly sandwich. "That's my motto, y'know?"
"What is it?" Dora asks, leaning forward in interest.
"If you want it, work for it." I sip my water, clearing my throat. "That's a good motto," Dora replies, voice slightly stronger than before.
"I agree," Rusty says.
And our trio's friendship began.
November 5th, 1925
"A transfer student?" I ask, looking around the classroom. Recently, a boy named Brandon Jefferson had gone missing on October 31st, and he was the only person consistently in all my classes. We never talked because he seemed like a sexist jackass. I didn't particularly care about him.
"Yes," my religious studies teacher, Mr. Burdner, says. He was a priest for the Roman Catholic church who wanted to preach to us about different languages, and how being a Roman Catholic was the best.
This was my napping class.
"I am also going on a mission trip to Mexico, so you'll be having a substitute until I come back."
Maybe this will actually become an un-biased religious studies class with the new teacher...YAY!
"I'm home!" I call when I enter the apartment, looking at a Natalie at a desk of wedding planning information. Natalie was busy preparing for the wedding, and got a second job as a librarian when she wasn't dancing as a flapper. Natalie wanted her wedding to be a Christmas one, so she's heaving it at a local church on December 24th, Christmas Eve. It will also be my first Christmas with my new 'family', and though I'm not going reindeer hopping this year, I'm quite excited to spend it with them.
"Hello Ivy, how was school?" Natalie asks as I put my hands on my hips.
"Good, you know Natalie I can always help you plan for the wedding." I sit across from her at the table, looking at all the papers. "I can magic up some food, hell, I'll magic up your cake so you don't have to pay so much for it. I can ask Dora to do photography since she's the best at it, and-"
Yes, Natalie and Rob knew about
"But I don't want to stress you out! I pulled you into my world, with the Rose Room and all-" Natalie starts, but I reach out and hold her hands.
"And I haven't been happier. I get to experience so much because you helped me get a job and a place to stay, and I want to repay you," I boldly inform. Natalie reluctantly nods, looking at some papers.
"My cousin can be a photographer, but you can do cake and decorations..."
"Thank you," I cheer, standing up and beginning to walk to my room. "I gotta get to the Rose Room for tonight's shift, I'll see you."
"Adios!" Natalie says, using the only Spanish word she actually remembers.
Laughing to myself, I smush my hair inside the bowler cap, allowing a small curl to hang over my eyes. My chest shrinks as I put on a pair of black slacks and a white blouse, pairing it with black suspenders. Putting on a duffel coat and black loafer shoes, I look like a young boy going to hang out with friends.
You ask "Ivy, why are you dressing in drag if you're going somewhere that you're always working at?" Basically, there one time while working I spilt moonshine on my leg, making my thigh smell like moonshine for a few days no matter how hard I scrubbed at it. I was so scared that people at school would get suspicious, so I wore this noxious perfume that smelt like 'my grandmother's ashes' according to Rusty.
Also, I always get hit on at the bar, which is very annoying. So, I wiped their memories that I worked at the bar as a woman, and I started working under my fake name "Ivan Taylor."
Teleporting to the Rose Room's entrance, I knock on the hidden door. "Password?"
The password changes monthly, meaning you always have to be updated. This time, Iz chose the password just to spite me...
With a sigh, I grunt the words "Honey Bunny."
"Enter."
Entering the Rose Room, I take off my coat and place it on the coat rack as I walk behind the bar.
"Hello Mr. Abberline," I say, recognizing the signature trenchcoat and fedora of the inspector. "Would you like another margarita today?" The only person I didn't completely wipe the memories of 'Violet' working at the bar was Mr. Abberline, and I just replaced the memories of me with Ivan Taylor.
"You know me too well," he replies, as I smirk and start making it for him. "How's everything going with the Jefferson case?" I ask, and he sighs.
"Horrible, he just vanished," Abberline says, "there's no evidence the CPD can get."
The thing about working at a bar is that drunk people like to talk, especially about things they don't normally talk about. I've been talking with Abberline for months, and he is absolutely horrible at keeping secrets.
"That sucks." I slide him the margarita.
"Yeah, it does. Now the other thing-" Abberline starts talking about stuff while I fill out more orders for other people until Abberline leaves. At 7:00 the band starts playing, and a new man approaches the counter.
"How may I help you-?" I ask, turning to them and nearly falling over.
Who else could it be but Sebastian-fucking-Michae;lis. He hasn't changed much from the manga, his hair is still the spiky mess, and he's wearing a new black suit. It was all black, for one thing, but it was open (as the style was of this time) and had a dark grey under vest with a white colored shirt flipped up and downwards slightly over a black bow tie. His pants were black, and he had the Phantomhive crest pin pinned to his pocket with a pristine white hanky squared neatly into it.
The Phantomhive crest on it confirmed that he was here under Ciel's orders, meaning something nasty was about to go down. This may be relating to the Jefferson case, but who knows?
"Excuse me, Sir, but can I speak to someone called Iz?" he asks, and I roll my eyes. So many have tried to get in with Iz by talking to me since I work at the bar, but I won't bend to anyone's will.
ESPECIALLY Sebastian's. Ciel must be around here, and I'd honestly rather not deal with him.
"What?"
"The owner of this fine establishment, Sir." He gives me a shit-eating smile, and I nearly slap it off his face.
Restrain yourself, Ivy.
"I'm sorry Sir, but if you're not going to order anything please move, as you are taking up bar space." I inform, and he sighs.
"Can I have a water, please."
"That'll be twenty dollars," I state matter-of-factly, pouring him a glass of water. He sweat drops, and I restrain a smirk.
"Sir, I've been here before and water was free," Sebastian lies smoothly, and I nod slowly. He must be here during the day because I've never seen Sebastian here...
"I know, but that's what I'm charging for information," I reply slowly and in a whisper, and his eyes widen in realization. "Ah, I see."
Pulling a crisp twenty dollar bill out of his pocket; meanwhile I get a paper napkin and write directions to an underground sewer, setting the water on top of it and sliding it over to him. "There you go, have a nice day," I say, sliding the twenty dollar bill into my pocket.
With a nod, he takes the napkin and slides it into his pocket, walking out of the bar without the water. And after all that work I did to pour that water!
Now I have enough money to buy myself a new coat! Take that, Sebastian!
November 6th, 1925
"Good morning class," a smooth voice says in my Religious Studies class, but I'm not paying attention as I'm looking out the window. With a smooth voice like that, I'm going to be lulled to sleep every lesson. "I am your new professor, Mr. Michaelis, and this is the transfer student Ciel Phantomhive."
Snapping my head toward the front of the class, I look at a neutral faced-Ciel and a smirking Sebastian. Ciel wore the boys' school uniform of a dark red coat with a black tie and a white undershirt and black dress pants; while Sebastian wore priest-clothing, a rosary thrown over his neck while librarian glasses perched on his nose, his hair parted to the side.
Looking out the window with a bored-expression, I breathe in slowly to combat my accelerating heart rate. Sebastian can probably hear my heartbeat even if I was on the moon, and a accelerating heart-rate is pretty suspicious.
"Sir by the window, in the back row, please raise your hand so Ciel can see you and find the seat next to you," Sebastian calls out, and my brow twitches as I whip my head around.
"Excuse me, Mr. Michaelis, but I am a girl," I say, as he pales considerably as the students in the classroom laugh slightly. Sebastian gives a shifty-eye glare around the room as everyone quickly quiets down, before he turns to me.
"I apologize, I only saw your jacket and assumed, since most females seem to be wearing a plaid dress. Now, since I'm a new teacher, I'd like everyone to introduce themselves, and give one fun fact." Sebastian, er, 'Mr. Michaelis' says, and I roll my eyes.
"I'm Jim, and I like trains and want to become a train engineer!"
"I'm Sam, and I can speak 10 languages!"
"I'm Ivy, and Sam spoke before I did." I matter-of-factly grumble, as everyone sweat drops.
"How about a fact about yourself?" Sebastian asks, and I think.
"I'm Ivy, and I'm a girl." I give a cheeky smile as Sebastian sweat drops.
"...moving on..." Sebastian says, and I nearly smirk. That's right, the snarkier I seem, the less interest there will be.
40 minutes later
Ring! Ring!
"Class is over, please read pages 40-58 for homework," Sebastian says, "Miss Ivy, please stay after."
DIDDLY DARN!
As everyone else leave, I look at Sebastian with an arched brow. "Mr. Michaelis, may I help you?"
"I was wondering why you are in these, well, predominantly male classes. Are you a natural born genius?" He asks with a smirk, and I cross my arms.
"I have a strong will to achieve knowledge, Mr. Michaelis. I am no natural-born genius, but I hope to become smarter through hard work and perseverance." I look him directly in the eyes, though it was somewhat of a struggle to crane my neck up to look at him.
"Well, Miss Ivy, I would recommend you would stop being as snarky as you are in class currently to help you learn," Sebastian replies coolly with a smile on his face, and I give an equally fake smile back.
"Of course, Mr. Michaelis, see you in class tomorrow," I say, walking out of the room.
Sebastian no doubt found me suspicious, and he would no doubt tell Ciel these suspicions. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if either one of them shows up to the bar tonight, but if Sebastian arrives anytime between 7:35-8:25 I'm safe, as I won't be performing in that time. Though, he may show up later because that's when the big boys come...
Nah! They wouldn't let him in if he didn't have connections, and he clearly didn't as he had to come to me to ask where Iz was.
"Hello Ivy!" Dora greets with a bright smile, sitting next to me at our lunch table, and I wave back to her. Over the past couple months, Dora had opened up more around us, and that made me really happy.
"Excuse me, but can I sit here with you guys?" A voice says, and I look up to see Ciel. Giving him a close-lipped smile, I nod. Ciel sits down across from me next to Rusty, and diagonal from Dora.
Our table is oddly awkward, and I clear my throat. "I'm Ivy, this is Dora and Rusty," I say, pointing to each in turn. They nod at Ciel, and he clears his throat.
"I'm Ciel, pleasure."
"So...why'd'ya transfer here?" I ask, sniffing out the reason why he came to this school.
"My parents transferred jobs so I came along with them," he informs, and I nearly throttle him. His parents are dead!
...that sounds kind of harsh. I apologize.
"What do your parents do?" Rusty asks, and Ciel shrugs. "They do government work I guess, I really don't pay attention to it."
I can tell Ciel is trying to pull off a 'regular-joe' accent, but he does sound kind of posh still...
"Well, welcome to Chicago," I say, doing jazz hands.
The lunch bell rings, and we bid Ciel farewell as we scurry from the table like that one scene in Ratatouille. Y'know? When the human comes and the rats all scatter in random directions? Ciel was the human, and it was an extremely delayed reaction.
Whatever Ciel was here for, it was suspicious and no good.
"Friday night, Natalie!" I say, bundling my coat up as my hair tints purple at the end. "Are you ready for this?"
"Obviously, being a librarian is such a boring day job. Iz offered me a position as an accountant, since I'm good with numbers and all that jazz, but that sounds even more boring!" Natalie groans, finishing her brows. Standing up satisfied, she gives me a wink.
"How do I look?" She asks, striking a pose and I roll my eyes. "Same as Tuesday."
"Oh gee, Ivy! We ain't eggs, so we can't buy new dresses. You and Iz are chums, so you can always ask him for a higher pay-"
"We're 'chums', Natalie. He helped me get into the school, so I shall do nothing else. I want to get through life by doing the hard work myself, as it brings the utmost satisfaction," I state, and she sighs. "And aren't you both friends too?" I ask, and she shrugs. "I guess..."
"I think the dresses we have now are lovely," I say, "but if you insist..."
Taking off my duffel coat, I snap my fingers as my eyes blaze blue. Natalie's dress glowed blue as it turned a salmon color with a striped pattern, between each silver stripe was a shade darker than the previous. Her dress line scooped as small silver threads wove patterns on her dress, creating triangle shapes. Silver fringes attached themselves to the bottom of her dress, hanging down to her knees. Meanwhile, my dress turned a dark purple, the feather on my head turning to a pin with a string of pearls coming off it. Pressing my legs together slightly, I feel the cold metal of the gun concealed on my inner thigh. Good, it didn't transform alongside the dress.
"Satisfied?" I ask, putting the duffel coat back on as Natalie shakes her body to test out the dress. "Ab-so-lutely! My gams look fabulous in this dress!"
"Of course they do, come on, let's get a wiggle on," I say, "it's cold enough as is outside."
"Can't you, I don't know, teleport us there? You've teleported me to California so we could go to the beach and get a small tan, remember?" She asks, and I cross my arms.
"I know, but no one would've noticed if we suddenly popped up at California since it is so vast. The Rose Room is a lot smaller, and we'd have to get passed the door guerilla..." I say, and Natalie puffs out her cheeks.
"How about to the alleyway?" She asks, and I sigh.
"Fine," I say, and she squeals excitedly. Hooking her arm on mine, we apparate out of the apartment and to the alleyway, proceeding to enter the Rose Room.
8:55
Sebastian won't be let in due to the guerilla not letting in many Chicago-Outfit-outsiders after 8:30. Unless they had connections, which Sebastian clearly did not as he asked me the other day at the bar. Maybe Sebastian is in disguise?
Nah...
Walking through the passageway, I adjust my dress strap.
"Hey Ivy, is somethin' botherin' you? You seem kinda nervous and on edge right now, did something happen at school?" Natalie asks, and I look at her. Truth be told, I was very stressed out. I love my life how it was right now, I was attending a normal school and had friends. I got to do some non-normal work, which kept me busy but happy. If Sebastian and Ciel enter my life, something bad is going to happen. Especially since I work at a place like this, they'll figure out that I have connections to Iz.
And when I see another reaper, it means something grim is on the horizon (badumtsh).
Forcing a smile onto my face, I shake my head. "Definitely not, I tell you everything. Now, let's greet this bull session."
"Agreed, I just want to go home and sleep...maybe have some quality time with Rob-"
"AH! My poor, virgin ears!" I jokingly exclaim, putting my hands over my ears as Natalie gasps inward, lightly slapping my back.
"How rude!" She giggles, and I laugh slightly, the smile on my face real as I step onto stage, Natalie waiting in the wings for her song to start eventually. Looking into the crowd as they dim the lights, I notice the door by the guerilla open, allowing a black shadow to enter the room. But it is too late to tell who it is, as we start Set C.
Turning towards the Jess, the piano man, starts playing. The drum ticks its beat as the trombone starts blowing. This was by far the most complicated song I had to do.
(Fancy, Postmodern Jukebox)
"First thing's first, I'm the realest
Drop this and let the whole world feel it
And I'm still in the murder business
I could hold you down, like I'm givin' lessons in physics right?" I sing, popping my waist out. I wish I was still in the murder business...
That sounds horrible, I just wish sometimes I didn't die so I could still be in 2016.
"You should want a bad chic like this huh?
Drop it low and pick it up just like this
Cup of Ace, cup of Goose, cup of Cris
High heels, somethin' worth a half a ticket on my wrist," Flaring my wrist outward, I gesture to myself.
"Takin' all the liquor straight, never chase that
Rooftop like we bringin' '88 back
Bring the hooks in, where the bass at?
Champagne spillin', you should taste that..." The beat shifts, piano chiming a little melody.
"I'm so fancy
You already know," the trombone's note dips as the beat of the drum picks up.
"I'm in the fast lane
From L.A. to Tokyo," waving my hands to and fro, I gesture in different directions.
"I'm so fancy
Can't you taste this gold?
Remember my name
'Bout to blow!" Here's the part I really hate doing...jumping off the stage and onto the front table, I squat down to be eye-level with a man sitting there.
"I said, "Baby, I do this, I thought that you knew this."
Can't stand no haters and honest, the truth is," I sing to him, patting him lightly on the cheek as he rolls his eyes. Standing back up, I hop off the table.
"And my flow retarded, they speak it depart it
Swagger on super, I can't shop at no department," I walk towards the bar, snatching the fedora from Iz and placing it on my head.
"Better get my money on time, if they not money, decline
And swear I meant that there so much that they give that line a rewind," I watch as Iz pouts slightly, and I place a kiss on the white fedora leaving a bright red lipstick mark on the front of the fedora.
"So get my money on time, if they not money, decline
I just can't worry 'bout no haters, gotta stay on my grind," Iz's eyes widen as the music momentarily stops, as I give him a finger-wave as I walk away to the inside of the bar, music coming back.
"Now tell me, who that, who that? That do that, do that?
Put that paper over all, I thought you knew that, knew that," Rob gives me a hand, twirling me slightly
I be the I-G-G-Y, put my name in bold
I been working, I'm up in here with some change to throw!" Rob lifts me onto the bar top, and I stand above all the boys there.
"I'm so fancy
You already know," I sing, taking the black fedora that Rob had offered me, placing it on my head.
"I'm in the fast lane
From L.A. to Tokyo
I'm so fancy
Can't you taste this gold?" I ask, swaying my body as I look at the black shadow in the room seeming to come closer. Damn, that must be Sebastian!
"Remember my name
'Bout to blow!" I sing, black shadow's body coming into view. He was wearing a grey suit, he must be trying to disguise himself.
"Trash the hotel
Let's get drunk on the mini bar," I sing, doing a couple spins. The boys cheer as I smile cheekily.
"Make the phone call
Feels so good getting what I want,
Yeah, keep on turning it up
Chandelier swinging, we don't give a what!" I sing, walking to the end of the bar where Iz grumpily sat. I reach my hand out, giving him an apologetic smile as he looked up at me, sticking out his hand...
"Film star, yeah I'm deluxe
Classic, expensive, you don't get to touch!" I cheekily pull my hand away, and he scoffed at me as the other boys laughed.
"Ohh!"
Here comes my least favorite part: dancing. Clacking my feet in the tap dance that Natalie taught me, the boys cheer as the music interludes. Shaking Rob's fedora in my hand, I begin to wrap up the song as the piano trills its own melody.
"I'm so fancy
You already kn-"
BANG!
The music stops immediately as the sound of shattering glass replaces it. Looking up from where the sound came from, I see the man step out of the shadows, and he is NOT Sebastian. Looking at where he shot, I notice he narrowly missed Iz, shooting a hole in the hat I held that went straight through to a rum bottle.
Looking at the man, I notice he looked like he belonged to a gang. He just had that 'gangster' vibe, y'know? Scruffy beard, unusual scar-face.
"We don' wan' anyone to get hurt," the man bellows, holding up the gun threateningly. "I have more men waiting outside. Unless you want this whole place shot up, we want 2 of your best and Iz outside."
"Who are you?" Iz asks angrily, "And what business do you have with us?!"
"A private organization," the man replies, and I look into his eyes. They're glazed over, like he's drink or in some kind of trance. "You got 5 minutes. We'll be waiting outside."
The man steps out, and I sigh. Well, there goes that performance.
"We can take one man!" A gang member shouts, as everyone else cheers. "No. We want everyone doing nothing tonight," Iz says, crossing his arms. "A Private Organization could take us down in a heartbeat because they in da government. Though we have allies in the police force, this could be bigger."
"So, what'dya suppose we do?" Rob asks as I place the fedora back on his head.
"I'm sending Jess and Jacob with me-" Iz says, and I stomp my foot.
"No," I start, "In case this is a debate, Jess can't say anything."
That's because the tip of Jess' tongue was cut off. Iz made him a piano player because Jess can play like an angel, and no one goes to kill the piano man in case there's trouble. "And though he's a strong fighter, he might get hurt unless asked a question."
"So, who are you saying should go instead o' Jess?" Iz asks, and I arch a brow. "Why, me of course."
That's right, I was looking for some action.
It was silent in the bar for a moment, then everyone started laughing, especially Iz. Crossing my arms and tapping my foot, I look at them patiently.
"Is everyone done laughing?" I ask, and Iz looks at me seriously. "You might not return alive," he says, and I shrug.
"Every mornin' when I go to school, who knows if I'll return alive?"
A/N: I wrote this because I was bored, so please enjoy this alternate version starring new OCs! What you need to know:
-Instead of Ciel's timeline being in the 1887-1888 period, it is now in 1925.
-Ciel's work is in America instead of Britain
-Ciel works under the current President of this time period(Calvin Coolidge)
-Ivy already knows she's a witch
-Ivy therefore knows of the existences of Supernatural beings
-Ivy still went to an assassin school.
-Ivy can't rap or play a musical instrument, but can instead sing.