Some cursing and drug mentions, new character is trippy.

"Levi" isn't pronounced like you've heard it in AOT, btw! It's a nickname in this story, actually, but it's pronounced more like (Leh-vEE), if you wanted to know! Anyways...

Hehehe...


"It's the unknown that draws people."

E.A. Bucchianeri, Brushstrokes of a Gadfly


2016 CE, America, Texas

specifically, january 29, 10:25 pm

The music of this age so far was to his liking. A good use of bass, and a heavy beat. Not bad. Not bad at all.

"Yo... Behe, bro..." He turned warily to see his sister, likely high on whatever concoction she had managed coaxed from some poor chap.

Strobe lights pulsated around the duo, illuminating a taller man and a curly-haired woman of shorter stature. The party moved around them, a spectacle of weary souls.

"Levi, you grace me with your presence."

She didn't seem to catch onto the sarcasm lacing his voice. She likely wouldn't have if she had been sober either, for that matter, he mused.

"Yeah, maaan." She stumbled the remaining steps towards him. "You've gotta try some of this shit, faaam..." He caught her just in time, but it wasn't as if he hadn't had years of practice.

His nose wrinkled at the pungent fumes the woman trailed. "Come along. Let's get you outside."


"The fact that whatever you've taken...and, or smoked...or - whatever - has actually driven one such as yourself to such a mess means that it's most likely a good thing that you've pried it off of someone." He reprimanded in between the woman's retches as he held her jacket for her. "You don't look so great, Levi."

"You aren't-" she took a moment to cough before continuing, "You don't look so lovely either, brother."

"Hmm. Must be the drugs distorting your vision, then. Take a moment to filter that filth from your blood, sister, and I trust you can meet me back inside. After all, we're only here because you insisted on attending this...indie...house...concert...event." He paused. "I'll admit that the music wasn't too terrible."

"Ha, I knew you would cave. Go ahead, I'll head back in after a bit, yeah?" She waved him off as she retrieved her letterman from his grasp with her other hand. Her brother nodded and reentered the house. As soon as the door had closed behind him, she pulled out a cigar of questionable substance from one of the jacket's pockets. Just as she made to light it, however, the door opened again, causing her to nearly drop it from her lips in an attempt to conceal her habit. Not like he hadn't noticed or anything, but some level of dignity had to be kept.

However, the figure who appeared was not her brother at all. She assessed the individual before her. Shorter than she was, with a dark shirt and what could only be described as mom jeans. She leaned slightly on one crutch, left leg braced. Her rusty hair was disheveled and the circles under her eyes were evident, even in the darkness. Levi relaxed, eyeing the girl and taking back out the lighter. Ah... but what harm would a little party trick do? Making eye contact, she tossed the lighter to the girl, who caught it with ease. Before mom jeans could assume to light it, however, Levi snapped her fingers, lighting it with a pop and a flash of flickering blue, and nodded to the wide-eyed kid. "I can roll you one, if that's what you came out for, eh?"

The girl smiled politely and held her hands up slightly. "Ah, I'm fine, thank you for the offer, though." Cute.

"Keep the lighter, then. Not like I need it - damn scrap just takes up pocket space."

The short one paused and then nodded, tentatively turning back to the door. "Ey, kid." Kid froze. "If you see my brother, tell him I've head out, okay? He'll have to run home himself..." the woman chuckled. Her voice was unusually smooth for the amount of smoke surrounding her.

january 30, 2:20 am

The insignia engraved into the metal was hard to discern from the other scratches of wear and tear, but Isabella was certain it had not been purchased with such a marking. It was rather messily etched, after all. She sighed, turning over in her bed. She didn't know what it meant, or what it was about that woman at the concert, but both made her wary. Wary, and something else that she couldn't quite place.

She cleared the intrusive thoughts from her head and smoothed the bandages on her left leg, only to be bombarded by more of her mind's own unwanted questions.

Uncertainties as to what had shoved her out of the way of that semi-truck, or...who, as she recalled the arms that scooped her up, and carried her far from harms way.

She could only vaguely recollect what the figure had told the nurse before she had blacked out. Something about helping her walk here from a parking lot. That couldn't have been true.

Hey hey hey! I...forgot what I was going to say! So welcome to the story that was originally an unpublished web-comic! What you just read was closer to the original form though, because I actually had to leave out the whole Victorian part, which is why it was unpublished. (The Black Butler thing was the entire base of the story tbh...) Thank you for reading this. OK, I'm SORRY you had to read this. If you got this far, it's probably because you survived! ...or you're reading this as you scroll down to leave a review telling me to gtfo haha. Really though, I will love you forever if you leave a review! I need criticism, as you can probably tell.