The City is a Ghost

Blaire stood frozen in awe at the scene in front of her. She blinked several times, before taking her sunglasses off and taking a step forward in a bid to get closer to the display happening before her wide eyes. The cold drink she held in her hand clattered to the ground, its contents freezing on the ice upon which she stood almost instantly.

What the...?

She wrapped her arms around herself at the sudden onslaught of frozen air which was being carried by the wind in a winter's kiss. Goosebumps coated her bronzed limbs as her wide coffee-coloured eyes continued to take in the familiar pair of characters in front of her, as well as the icy landscape which surrounded them. Her mind raced. This can't have been real. A dream, perhaps?

It wasn't winter before! It was the middle of July! How much did I drink? Maybe I had an accident on the beach and this is the effect of the morphine? Oh shit... Am I in a coma?

She never noticed the scandalized looks directed her way, nor did she notice the utterances under the breaths of those dressed much more conservatively than she. None of them mattered, because stood several feet away, was Ciel Phantomhive and Sebastian Michaelis. Or at least, very good cosplayers.

Even from the distance at which they were stood, she could tell that they had the likeness down perfectly. Though, rather than having the blue/grey hair that Ciel had in the animation, from what Blaire was able to see, it seemed as though this cosplayer had used their own dark brown, almost black hair. It was difficult to tell, as his head was mostly covered by an expensive-looking black fur cloak. However, she could see that "Ciel's" hair wasn't as dark as Sebastian's, whose rich black locks framed his porcelain, angular face perfectly. Compared to the usual cosplay she'd seen, where the clothing was evidently a costume and the person clearly wearing a wig, they were utterly immaculate.

She stood still and completely stunned. Everything around her seemed so incredibly real. She felt the solid, icy ground beneath her trainers and the biting crisp air which was thick with soot. The sudden change in air quality made her cough lightly. Clouds of thick black smog could be seen in the distance over a dreary grey sky and the stench of herbs and body odour offended her sense of smell. She frowned at that observation.

Does nobody know deodorant's a thing?

Her slender nose wrinkled. Her tank top and shorts were severely impractical given the frigid temperature she presently found herself subject to. The sunglasses perched on her forehead looked truly out of place and the leather bag pack on her person weighed down on her shoulders heavily. Her ponytail brushed against her upper back as her head swivelled around. She finally understood why people did drugs. All of this came out of her imagination? Even the bystanders were dressed in Victorian clothing, dainty women in their fur cloaks hung on the arms of dapper gentlemen. Children dressed for the era littered the flock of people which seemed to be making up an audience, all of whom were now ostracizing her critically. Some were more subtle, sending her a side glance, before turning away embarrassed and pointedly coughing into their hand. Some would blatantly stare, before turning to whoever they were with and pointing her out. She only heard the vaguest utterances of "Most improper!" and "Harlot!" Mothers and fathers would grab a hold of their children, leaning down to murmur something inaudible to them. No doubt, a warning not to go near the "provocatively" dressed young woman. Some would even glare at her whilst covering their children's eyes.

She tried not to let herself feel embarrassed. They were merely figments of her imagination, after all.

Her attention was directed towards the Noah's Arc ice sculpture which was being presented. However, the audience paid the impressive model no mind. Blaire frowned. Something wasn't right.

Isn't Ciel supposed to be a child in the show? Like twelve or something?

The cosplayer looked older! She shook her head. This wasn't an animation.

She took notice of the judges, who too, seemed to pause to give her a once-over. The blonde dressed as The Lord Viscount Druitt seemed to look her up and down, eyes raking over her bare legs and arms. Try as she might, Blaire couldn't stop herself from beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable. The presentation was paused. The audience, having lost interest in the ice sculpture stopped to peer over at the brunette who was stood shivering in amongst the crowd. A circle seemed to form around her as people backed away to stare at her incredulously.

Blaire suddenly felt her face heat in embarrassment, contrasting with the cold which ate away at the rest of her body. Her heart beat began the ascent into palpitations, butterflies in her stomach became giant moths. She glanced sparingly around at the judgmental gazes of those that surrounded her. She wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow her whole. Now was normally the point at which she should be waking up, had she been dreaming.

Definitely a coma. I'm lying in a hospital bed somewhere, in a vegetable state, being pumped full of morphine.

She heard someone pointedly clear their throat. Peering up, she was startled to see that the Ciel and Sebastian cosplayers had gotten closer.

The adolescent boy who resembled Ciel wore a disgusted expression. As he stood just taller than Blaire, he was peering down his nose at her revealing attire. His one visible eye was narrowed at the not-too-subtle makeup she wore and the swell of her breasts as accentuated by the thin material of her top. Even the prostitutes had more dignity than that! And now she had caused the entire presentation to come to a halt, possibly jeopardizing the entire case. He'd never win the Hope Diamond back at this rate!

Blaire swallowed thickly. She decided she absolutely did not like how real this felt.

Could this possibly be real...? Surely, not.

A glance at the tall dark-haired male who was stood behind "Ciel" revealed he wore an uninterested, though vaguely disapproving expression. This close up, Blaire could see he even wore red contacts too. Through her humiliation, she had to marvel at the Sebastian lookalike's eyes. As she herself found the concept of contact lenses horrifying, she felt the need to compliment his efforts. Even if he was, possibly, a figment of her imagination.

"Who let the whore in here?" The Ciel lookalike spoke in a voice uncannily similar to the real article, though slightly deeper. Commanding and stiff with contempt. His shoulders were squared and his chin was raised. His gloved hand gripped the handle of his cane, the rings adorning his fingers had a healthy shine, even with what little daylight strained through the blanket of grey clouds.

The young noble noted how the strange woman's eyes seemed to scan over him. She was clearly deeply impoverished, given the rags upon her shivering body. She was likely a common thief, examining what she could steal from his person.

Blaire stood gobsmacked.

What the fuck?

She pursed her lips, brows coming together and forming corrugations on her forehead. "I'm not a whore." She placed a hand on her hip, quirking a thin eyebrow at the blunt tone in which the boy addressed her.

Who does the little cunt think he is?!

The boy raised an eyebrow indignantly, continuing to stare. His arm extended to brandish his cane towards her. "How did you get in here?" He ignored her statement.

"I...I dunno, I was just on the beach and then..." She frowned. What did happen? She couldn't even remember. She blew out a breath, trying not to panic. "Maybe I hit my head..." She muttered.

Or maybe those brownies were dodgy after all…

She gasped, eyes widening in mook realization. "Oh my god, Katie's finally got me back..."

Ciel's brows knitted. What on earth was she on about? He tutted in true British fashion. He'd had enough, and they had to be getting on with winning the presentation. "Sebastian," He began his order. "Remove this lunatic from my sight." He spat the words through gritted teeth.

The demon look-alike, who had remained silently analysing the strange woman, placed a hand over his heart. "Yes, my Lord."

Blaire's eyes widened and a beaming grin spread across her face.

Oh, are they staying in character?

"That's so cool! You sound just like him!" She had to admire their voices and accents, even if they came across as a little snobbish.

Sebastian cocked an eyebrow as he advanced towards her. This young woman was clearly in the midst of a fit of hysteria. She desperately needed help.

Blaire staggered back from "Sebastian's" descending form, her trainers gently thudding against the icy ground. "Wait! Can I get a photo? That's some great cosplay, seriously." She reached into her pocket to pull out her phone, the screen coming to life immediately. With a few flicks of her thumb, the camera application was opened and she raised the device into the air. She turned so that she could get the two cosplayers in the frame.

"What is that thing?!" The Ciel lookalike exclaimed. He frowned as he examined his mirror image staring back at him.

Blaire turned and looked at him strangely, eyebrows raised. "What do you think it is?" She smirked. "Obviously, it's a bomb."

Missing Blaire's sarcasm, Ciel's eyes widened as he took several steps backwards.

It's as if they've never seen a phone before, Jesus Christ.

She grinned into the camera as her finger pressed against the volume button. The shutter sound effect immediately resounded from the device.

Swiftly, a white-gloved hand seized her wrist in a painful vice, causing her to drop the phone. Blaire cursed loudly as she heard the device slam into the ground. A black polished boot then proceeded to stomp on the innocent object, crushing it into tiny pieces.

"What the fuck was that for?!" She exclaimed, whipping her head around to glare at Sebastian. She had a good mind to slap him right across the face.

He's so lucky I've got insurance for another year, I swear to fuck.

Sebastian only sent her a cold glare of his own. He addressed her through gritted teeth. "It is most improper for a lady to use such coarse language. Although..." His eyes roamed over her shivering, exposed limbs. "You are hardly one of noble breeding. Quite the opposite, so I'm afraid I am going to have to remove you from the premises." He began to drag her through the group of staring onlookers, who briskly moved out of the way, lest they are seen too close to the lowly harlot. After all, protecting their reputation in upper-class society was of utmost importance.

"You motherfucker! That was my phone!" She yelled, attempting to pull her wrist free but it was in vain. His grip was too tight.

In his rage, his eyes flashed bright crimson, causing Blaire to falter and the air to leave her in a quick gasp. That was no trick of the light. Contact lenses certainly weren't responsible for that apparition. Her brown eyes were wild as she found herself unable to breathe. "Demon..." She whispered.

He heard her as he continued to tug her arm uncomfortably. His somewhat shocked gaze turned to her, sharp eyes narrowing in warning.

"But it's not real..." She mumbled to herself. "They're just fiction..."

They quickly approached the outside of the crowd.

Wait, if this is the ice episode...

She turned to the butler frantically. "There's going to be an attack!" She screeched. She recalled the episode, 'His Butler on Ice', she remembered that men with guns opened fire amidst the crowd. Whatever the hell was going on, this felt real and if somehow it was, people were going to die.

Sebastian bent to hiss in her face. "I would advise you to return to whichever asylum or brothel you came from."

She gazed at him moon-eyed. "But it's about the Hope Diamond, isn't it? The thieves you're looking for, they're here! People will be hurt."

Sebastian's eyes narrowed. "Ah, so you're a lowly thief then? I don't imagine your comrades will be too fond of you for ratting them out-"

"I'm not one of them, but they're here. You have to believe me!" She shouted over him, frantic. Her limbs, one of which was still secured by Sebastian, had taken on an alarming shade of mauve.

The butler gazed at her questioningly. "Then how could you-"

"-There a problem over 'ere?"

The pair turned to see a police officer advancing towards them. He was a perfect stereotype of the time, dressed all in black with a handlebar moustache and tall hat to boot.

Sebastian spoke for her. "Yes, I'm afraid this young woman appears to have escaped from Bethlem Royal Hospital. May I suggest she be escorted back?"

Oh, fuck no.

She tried to yank her wrist free, becoming increasingly frantic as she found that she was unable to budge. She tried to stand on Sebastians feet in a bid to get away, however this only served to alarm the policeman further.

"As you can see," He smirked down at her. "She is clearly very unwell. I trust you can take care of her?" His voice held a charming edge to it.

The unnamed policeman scratched the back of his head, hesitantly coming towards her. "Right, y-yes, of course."

Immediately, she began to struggle against the policeman's hold. As she was being dragged away, she yelled at the top of her lungs: "Hey! Let me go! I'm not crazy!"

However, her cries fell on deaf ears. She was vaguely aware of the policeman calling for backup as she shouted at the smug butler. "I know what you are! I know what's going to happen! Who killed Ciel's-!" She was cut off by something blunt and heavy being slammed into the back of her head. Her vision tunnelled as she dropped to the icy ground, missing how the smirk fell from Sebastian's face and the sounds of guns firing and people screaming began to fill the air. He immediately ran to keep his Master safe, though his thoughts lingered on what the insane woman had said.

The officer put his baton back on his belt, moving to pick her up with the help of two other identically dressed men. "Don't worry about her." He said to the others, who appeared to be quite shaken.

"They'll beat it out of her in Bedlam."

When all has turned to dust

Our city is a ghost