I own nothing but my OC.
That Butler, Freeloading
[[Narration for specific parts]]
≥speech in Indian language≤
'thoughts'
"speech"
"Demonic speech"
{setting/stage directions?}
SOUND EFFECTS
An entire sentence like this, without quotes, is narration for dreams or stuff like written letters.
=†=†=†=†= scene shift/time shift
Previously:
"It's cold. Agni, what is this?" An Indian boy, who was wearing a scarf wrapped around his head, asked as he held his hand out to catch the snow.
"It is known as 'snow' and falls in Great Britain during the winter... My prince." His older traveling companion said. This man, though still rather young, had white hair.
"Snow..." The boy said, removing his scarf, and revealing wavy, dark-purple hair. "Great Britain, eh...? It is rather beautiful. I want to take it back and show it to mother." He said, smiling confidently.
"Yaaay, snooow~!" Finni sang happily as he ran around the snow covered lawn of Ciel's London townhouse. Mei-Rin was building a snowman, Bard was making snowballs, and Mister Tanaka sipped his tea while sitting inside the shelter of his little igloo.
"I made it too big, I did!" Mei-Rin cried as she struggled with the over-sized head she had made for the snowman.
"Adding stones'll make 'em just that much deadlier!" Bard said, smirking deviously, as he snow around some small stones he found. He was definitely going to get some payback on Sebastian and Chêne for pummeling him during their snowball fight at Ciel's birthday party the other day.
=†=†=†=†=
[[Winter— in Great Britain, it is an ashen season covered by thick, heavy clouds. With the Jack the Ripper case resolved, the hum of daily life returned to London. That peace, however, proved but a brief respite—]]
Londoners murmured amongst themselves as, disturbed by the sight before them, as they crowded around outside a certain coffeehouse, the scene of the latest incident. Several men had been stripped down to their underwear, and then strung up from the storefront with rope so that they were all hanging upside down in a rather humiliating manner. Each of the had a letter from the culprit stuck on them, and it bore a strange symbol at the bottom for a signature... it looked rather like a stylized tongue.
[[There occurred a curious incident in which Anglo-Indians frequenting the Hindustani coffeehouse near Portman Square were attacked, stripped, and hung upside down from the roof.]]
A few police officers arrived on the scene and began to try to control the crowd that was forming as they secured the crime scene and set up a ladder so they could take the poor humiliated and beaten, but still living victims.
[[Afterward, in a rash of similar incidents, aristocrats and military personnel who had returned from India were like wise assaulted all over London. The same notice was affixed to all of the victims—
'Watch this wild, pathetic child of sloth and depravity. England is the motherland of the Devil, who robs and forces it's worthless, rotten, and ignorant culture on you instead! To all the idiots of the bitch-ruled land, you are the ones who deserve the vengeance of heaven!'
—So it said.]]
=†=†=†=†=
A man shook with anger as he clutched the letter in his hand and stared at the strange symbol at the bottom of the page. The man was none other than Lord Randall, Commissioner of Scotland Yard.
"Another incident! This is the twentieth one!!" Randall roared angrily, vein mark throbbing on his forehead, as he crumpled up the note. "Haven't you been able to arrest the perpetrators yet, Abberline!?" He demanded of his subordinate.
"Sorry, Sir!!" Chief Inspector Abberline said earnestly, bowing profusely in apology to his superior police officer. Abberline was a ginger-haired man who had a mustache and a short goatee, and he was wearing a bowler hat.
"We let Jack the Ripper slip through our fingers, and that bloody brat snatched away our glory..." Randall grumbled angrily as a vein mark throbbed on his forehead.
"Ohh, do forgive me for being a brat." Ciel said drolly as he, Sebastian, and Chêne walked up to the coffeehouse. The police had already seen to it that the victims were taken to the hospital, but the ropes that had held them were still hanging from the roof. As far as Chêne could tell, there hadn't been any other sign of vandalism done to the store itself.
"Earl Phantomhive!" Lord Randall said, surprised. Chêne glanced at the crumpled letter in his hand and sweat dropped. Was that really how the Commissioner of Scotland Yard should treat important evidence found at a crime scene?
"You, Boy! How did you get in here!?" Abberline demanded nervously, hoping he wasn't going to get yelled at again because a civilian managed to get into the crime scene. "?" He said, surprised and confused when Lord Randall held out an arm to stop him from moving to escort Ciel and his servants from the crime scene.
"Earl Phantomhive... Why are you here!?" Lord Randall asked.
"Ha! I should think that would be obvious." Ciel said, smirking. "I've come to clean up after the bumbling hounds."
"Wha—!" Lord Randall yelled incredulously, vein mark throbbing on his forehead, as Ciel snatched Abberline's clipboard from him, reading through the inspector's notes. Abberline flinched, startled by Ciel's boldness (more like rudeness). Who was this kid!?
"I see." Ciel said as he scanned the documents. "Only Anglo-Indians have been targeted in this case. And there don't appear to be any casualties as of yet."
"!" Randall said, gritting his teeth. "Who gave you the right to—" He demanded, outraged, but he was cut off before he could continue his rant when Ciel nodded to Chêne, and she suddenly held the envelope that Ciel had received from the queen, showing Lord Randall the Royal Family crest that had been pressed into the wax seal on the letter. They had been very careful not to damage the seal when they opened the letter, just in case they needed it for a situation like this.
"I would not be here if mere bandits were to blame, but... I cannot rightly sit by as the royal family continues to be insulted." Ciel said, smirking cynically, as Lord Randall grit his teeth in frustration. "Hmph!" Ciel said, grinning smugly, as he handed the notes he had finished reading to Sebastian so that he and Chêne could read them as well, and read the letter left by the culprit. "I say, 'child of sloth and depravity' is a wonderfully accurate description on the part of our culprit. I'd have to agree that this country would be marginally better off without the Indian nabobs." Chêne furrowed her brow slightly as she concentrated on reading Abberline's notes and thinking over the information she already new about the circumstances of this time. The British Indian Empire. At the time, masses of Englishmen lived in the British colony of India. The third and fourth sons of well-to-do families, who could not live in luxury in their homeland... were able to live the elegant lives of 'noblemen' in India. Those who returned from India were called 'Anglo-Indians,' and... The many who were unable to shed their lifestyles of extravagance and idleness even after their return were known as 'Indian nabobs.'
"Even if they wallowed in base amusements while in India and are cowards who single mindedly squandered their fortunes, many of them are members of the British gentry. We must protect them!" Randall said.
"Gentry, hm...? Worthless." Ciel said dismissively as he stuck his tongue out, imitating the symbol on the perp's letter, as Chêne and Sebastian silently read through the papers Ciel had handed them. "In any case... What of this mark...?" He asked.
"It looks like a tongue... That actually makes sense, though, if the culprit is an Indian. The image of a protruding tongue like this is actually the symbol for one of their deities, so it fits with the 'vengeance of heaven' part... but this part about the devil feels strange if that really is the case..." Chêne said thoughtfully as she read the letter over Ciel's shoulder.
"How so?" Ciel asked. He was glad he had decided to just let Chêne come along this time. He originally didn't want her along, because it could be dangerous, but now that she was practically immortal, he didn't have to worry about that, and so far, Chêne was proving to be a rather useful source of information on this case.
"Well, this sounds like it's referring to the type of 'devil' found in Christianity, but Indians don't believe in a being like that. They only have a bunch of more minor 'demons.'" Chêne explained.
"And what does a maid know of such things!? I'll tell you why they drew a tongue!! They're making a mockery of we British and Her Majesty, the Queen! How dare they cock about like this...!!" Lord Randall roared angrily, another vein mark throbbing on his head. Chêne sweat dropped. She had a feeling that if Randall didn't calm down soon, he was probably going to have an aneurism. "The victims are all returnees from India. That means the perpetrator must be a vile Indian. Those bloody savages!!" He ranted.
"Commissioner Randall, please calm down..." Abberline pleaded nervously, slightly blue with shock at how his boss had just raised his voice so violently to a lady. He too thought Randall's blood pressure might be reaching critical mass.
"Ohhh? So that's why I was summoned here." Ciel said carelessly as he continued to read through Abberline's notes. "Most of the Indians who've stolen their way into Great Britain are holed up in the East End. The city police seem to have trouble dealing with the underworld there. So learning the exact number of stowaways or by what routes the make it here is rather problematic, hm?" Ciel said, smirking smugly. Randall clenched his fist and grit his teeth in frustration. Abberline sweat dropped. Everything Ciel had just said had been completely on the mark. "Well, if you don't mind, I'll be going about my business. I'd like to return to the manor as soon as possible, you see." Ciel said, before turning to Sebastian and Chêne. "Sebastian, Chêne, you've memorized the papers?" He asked them.
"Yes, Sir." Sebastian said, smirking slightly, as Chêne reorganized the papers and put them back on the clipboard.
"Thank you. Your notes were very helpful." Chêne told Abberline, smiling politely, as she handed the bewildered inspector his clipboard.
"Come along, Chêne." Ciel said as he and Sebastian started walking away.
"Yes, Sir!" Chêne said, smiling as she hurried after them. It was so nice to be able to work with them, instead of just basically stalking them... like she usually had to whenever they tried to leave her behind... Abberline stared after them as they left, slightly stunned. That had been... odd...
"Commissioner Randall. Who in the world is that kid...?" Abberline asked, sweat dropping.
"Since you've seen for yourself, I suppose I have no choice but to fill you in... Abberline..." Randall said resignedly. "In this country, there exists a secret agency under direct control of the Queen. It is known as 'Phantomhive.' The Phantomhive Earldom has headed up this agency through the generations... and the earls themselves have been called 'Watchdogs of the Queen' or the 'Aristocrats of Evil.'" He explained.
"Why 'evil'?" Abberline asked. "If he serves the Royal Family, are they not the same as u—"
"No." Randall said firmly. "That is no such simple thing. In every civilization, there is both a 'Polite Society' and an 'Underworld.' And Great Britain is no exception. The rogue organization known as Phantomhive covers up any number of criminal acts carried out by the royals, and will stop at nothing to eliminate any and all who may seek to harm the Royal Family. By all rights, they function as the royal 'shadow'—A 'phantom' which should never have come into being." He said gravely. "The underbelly of the East End. The criminals and blackguards of other nations who congregate therein. So that these undesirables do not spill out into polite society, they employ their monstrous authority to rule over and police every inch of this country's underworld... That's... the 'Phantomhive Earldom' for you." Abberline glanced at the departing trio as they slipped further away into the crowded streets of London.
"So basically, they're the opposite of the police in that... they use the powers of 'evil' to carry out the Queen's orders...?" Abberline asked, disturbed. "A slip of a child like him?"
"That is no child. That is... the Devil himself." Randall said ominously.
Sebastian smirked as he walked beside his small master and Chêne.
