I found tumblr. And Supernatural. Send help immediately.

"Be good, Ciel."

The standard warning slash goodbye from his mothers rung in his ears as the boy made his way up into the rafters above the brothel. Many people would have taken it as "stay put, don't move and stay hidden" but Ciel knew better. After living with the same three women (though one was actually a man) for ten years, the fourteen year old knew what they really meant. It was not a warning to stay out of trouble, it was advice to stay out of too much trouble. It was a warning to not get caught in his daily activities. The warning was rather redundant though, by this point anyway, as he had never been caught by anyone of importance. True, a few of the other whores had caught sight of him, but he had quickly charmed them into silence. All he had to do was bat his eyelashes and send them a wide-eyed innocent gaze and there was no one who could refuse him something, not Madam Red, not Grell, and certainly no child-deprived whore in the brothel.

He perched on his favorite spot above the lobby and unwrapped a lollipop he had bought the other day with the leftovers from Grell's tips. Sticking the candy into his mouth, he watched the men begin to file in to the brothel like a line of worker ants. The boy snickered to himself at the sight, popping the candy from his mouth when Meyrin looked up at him briefly. He sent her a smile and closed the red-colored silk fabrics closer around his hiding spot that he had been building for years now. Putting the sugary treat back into his mouth and moving the stick to the side of his lips, he watched as the brothel slowly rose to greet the day. Meyrin was working the lobby today with other young prostitutes. She was dressed as a maid, but the skirt was cut up and seemed to be caught in her underwear on the right side. This was on purpose, of course, and gave the entering men an eyeful of her legs that were bound in fishnet stockings that were tied to her black undergarment by garters. Some fashions would never change, despite the world outside continuing to move forward.

Grell passed through the room, dressed to the nines in a bright scarlet gown covered with ruffles and laces of varying pinks, blacks and silvers. The top ended in a corset that hugged his odd curves (probably the aftermath of using a corset for so long), elbow long black gloves offset the gown elegantly as the man-posing-as-a-woman made his way to the front door. Ciel chewed on the stick absentmindedly; Grell was working the streets today. It was spring now, so it was warm enough for the workers to work the streets in front or near the brothel. They all had special passes to show the police in case one of the members of the police force decided to question their presence. After all, brothel prostitutes were legal (probably because they could be taxed) and brothel-less street walkers would be arrested on spot. Ciel watched his male mother leave the building with a dramatic sweep before resuming his sightseeing.

He spotted Angelina, known as Madam Red when she was working, writing in a book near the front where one of the guards stood. Ah, right. Ciel thought to himself. She has an appointment today with a nobleman from Germany. He mused, watching the woman write in the book with as much ease as one could expect from a woman who had done this many times. She was dressed more simply, a muted wine color making up her meeting gown this time. The style of the dress was very common for middle class women in France now, and it was pressed and looked a little uncomfortable from where Ciel sat. So this was a new possible client. It was common practice for Black Lace to send a sort of ambassador to new possible clients who had a lot of money and power. Madam Red was the perfect fit for such a task, as she was more educated than most of the other workers. Not to mention she carried herself as a noblewoman still, despite having lost everything during the war.

She finished signing the book and left the brothel, opening a red parasol as she exited and Ciel felt a smile tug at his lips. Everyone in the Red Light knew that parasol and other whores had been known to clear out when they saw the parasol in the distance. Madam Red was a well-known client stealer, with her witty tongue and well-educated conversation. Not to mention, she was beautiful, or so Ciel had been told by the word he heard from the men below when they spoke to her. Ciel really had no concept of a person being beautiful, he only had his comparison of how his mothers looked versus how a single person looked. Perhaps it was wrong, but not many people measured up to his version of beauty laid down by where he lived. The illusion of beauty that choked the area was false at best, but it was all Ciel had to compare to. The world outside was colorless and plain, full of despair and an endless rift between poor and rich that made him nauseous.

But there was only so much he could take of the illusion of the brothel. The pointless rushing about of the whores as they flocked to gain the attention of the greedy and starved men was sickening after a while, and the lollipop in Ciel's mouth quickly turned bitter and rotten as he viewed the desperate men pine after something that would never exist for them. The drug known as lust poured from the prostitutes in waves, and like starving worms, the men and women who flocked to the brothel lapped it up, becoming high with the feeling of pleasure and a false sense of love. They then would blindly follow a whore back into a private place to perform a public art. It was fast, repetitive, like spinning around in circles over and over, and Ciel had to look away before he became dizzy. Biting down on the stick of his candy, Ciel slowly made his way down from his hiding spot with practiced grace. It was second nature now, getting up and down from his spot above the lobby.

Once his feet made contact with the solid floor, Ciel made his way back into the room he shared with his three co-parents. He closed the door tightly behind him and gathered up some spare clothes from the floor he decided would work as a whole outfit. Once he was dressed, albeit a little mismatched, he looked in the mirror Grell always used and decided to brush his hair. Once it was as straight as he liked, he decided he looked presentable enough to do some actual work. He took the key from inside Angelina's jewelry box and unlocked the door that was at the back of the room, the door to the alleyway between the brothel and the bathhouse. He walked out and shut the door, locking it behind him and putting the key safely into his pocket before continuing to the opening of the ally. He looked around the corner, taking into account all the whores at the front of the brothel before he decided it was best to probably work the next street over for his personal work.

Sticking to the shadows and crowds of people, Ciel made his way to the next street over away from the brothel without being spotted or have attention called to him. It was always the hardest part, walking away from the brothel. Returning was the easy part because he always returned in the evening when the brothel was closing and the whores were making their way back in to the structure for the night. Not to mention it was darker and he blended with the shadows easily. The next street over was much more empty from the hustle and bustle of an opening brothel. There was another brothel here, yes, but Black Lace seemed to be the most popular so these brothels had much less traffic. Perfect pickings for a worker like Ciel.

His art was one he found incredibly easy to perform and it did not involve the dangers his mothers' work did. No, he did not work the streets as a prostitute or an "easy buy", he was a seller of quite a different illusion. He made people believe the lie he made for himself, and got what he wanted as payment for his flawless performance. Ciel was a con-artist. And he had a new lie for every person he came across. For the woman with two boys, he was a lost kid who could not find his parents; for the man with money pouring from his pockets and eyes as greedy as a wolf's, he was the innocent begging orphan who would do anything for his next meal. And he was such a flawless actor, he always got his payment before his end of the deal was called into question. He would vanish after being paid, no one on the street even acknowledging his existence because those who lived and worked in the Red rarely turned each other in. He never bothered streetwalkers and he kept his work away from the brothels, so no one felt the need to turn him in for his little independent work.

He smirked to himself as he spotted a young man who was clearly wealthy from the clothing he wore. He was slightly outside the Red Light in the more domestic areas, which meant trouble for Ciel if he got questioned, but the payment was enough to justify the risk. He would easily get enough to buy some sweets for him and his mothers with the money he could take from that man. But his thoughts were halted when the man was joined by several older men. Ciel cursed under his breath and backed off a bit. Older men were harder to convince, they had more experience chasing off unwanteds, and would prove difficult if Ciel had even a crack in his mask. If he was planning on taking on such an advanced group, he would need a flawless performance, complete with a history no one could prove or disprove. Deciding to go with the time-honored success of the beggar boy, he pulled himself into an alleyway nearby and gave his clothes a good dusting of the ally dirt before smudging his face with dirt and mud.

He tore his shirt a bit, exposing what Grell called "the right amount of skin", and cut his knuckles on the bricks, smudging some thin blood across his cheeks. His appearance was now flawless, and he did not have the time nor desire to complete the physical illusion with scent. He smirked to himself and wrapped his hands in the ripped cloth of the shirt. The men were getting closer and Ciel decided he would really have to sell this one. Taking a handful of the fine coal dust from the alleyway, Ciel inhaled the substance, triggering a nasty set of coughs that for a moment had Ciel worried he had triggered an asthma attack. But the coughing got weaker and more manageable in time and Ciel looked up to see the group of men staring at him. Wiping tears from his eyes, Ciel crawled towards the men.

"P-Please-" He coughed again, coal dust coating his hands like paint, "anything you can-" another cough and wheeze "-can spare?" He finished pathetically, reaching out a dirty hand towards the young man he intended to con before. The older men pulled back slightly, trying to pull the young man with them, but he stepped forward.

"You poor thing, how long have you been living like this?" He asked gently.

"A f-few months." Ciel responded. "I escaped from the coal factory near the docks. I thought I co-could get work with one of the tradesmen here, but-" he coughed again, finally getting the last of the substance from his lungs, "but none of them would help me. I can't go back, sir, I can't. They'd whip me sure as they saw me, they would." He explained. "I just need enough coppers to convince a sailor down at the docks to let me on the fishing boats, sir. But this winter was a bad one, sir. Spent all the coppers I had been saving on a coat, but it got stolen, it did." He said, adding a pathetic whimper to his voice.

"Leave 'im, Matthews, there's dime a dozen with a story like 'is." The voice of one of the older men almost made Ciel scowl. But his face remained pleading, though he pulled back his arm a bit, appearing as if he was losing hope in getting the money he desperately needed.

"Come now, Mr. Withers. Surely this boy could use our help." Came the response of the young Mr. Matthews.

"That's what they play off, those little whelps. Pull on yor heart strings to get yor coppers and then vanish quick as a fox." Another one said. "Won't do a wink of good to help 'im. He'll just be back at it tomorrow."

These men were smart, and recognized Ciel was probably lying, but all he had to do was entrap the young one and he would consider this a success. He once again sent a pleading glance at the younger man, shuffling forward and lifting his head, letting his eyes catch the light and the light to catch his skin as well. He heard the gasp of the younger man, and felt the stirring of the older men. Grell had often made the comment that he could get whatever he wanted just by flaunting his looks a little, but Ciel did not entirely understand. He only knew that he often finished a con by letting people look into his eyes rather than away.

"If we ignore the poor further, gentlemen, the world will never get any better." Mr. Matthews responded, resolve in his voice as he fished out his wallet and handed several francs into Ciel's open palm. It was more than the boy expected, but when the younger man sent an expectant glare to his older companions, they refused, just as Ciel expected (though he would have liked to have been able to swindle them too, some people were just too smart). The huffs of the men were clear as they dragged Mr. Matthews away before yet another street urchin stole from their pockets. Ciel smirked to himself before laughing and standing, dusting his clothing off as best as he could and washing his hands and face in a nearby rain barrel.

"Oh yes, Mr. Matthews, thank you for making the world a better place." He snickered as he pocketed the money. Making his way to the sweet shop, Ciel felt himself step lightly as he entered his favorite shop in the domestic district of the slums.

"Good morning, Ciel. I see you found some donors today." Came the comment from the woman across the counter. She was as young as Ciel was, perhaps a year or two older, and had some of the blondest hair Ciel had ever come across. It was long and curly, reaching nearly to her waist even though she kept it up in twin pony tails. Her emerald eyes were as brilliant as Ciel's twin sapphires and though she was clearly from a well-off family of middle-class workers, she worked in a slum shop happily. Ciel appreciated her humility, finding it a refreshing truth in his world of illusion and lies. He strode up to the counter and nodded at her, placing his pay out for the day on the counter.

"What can I get for this, Lizzie?" He asked the girl. Elizabeth looked over the money and counted it before doing some calculations in her head.

"Haven't you learned to count money yet?" She teased gently and giggled when his face turned red.

"Mother has no money left over to teach me. All her tips come in as dresses or perfumes, not coppers or silvers. And when Momma or Mom get tips, she is never around to teach me." He confessed, glaring at the girl who just giggled and got some of the candy sticks she knew Ciel enjoyed.

"I could teach you, Ciel." The girl offered and Ciel shrugged.

"When I actually get a use for counting money, I'll let you teach me." He said and Elizabeth sighed.

"Very well." She conceded and finished bagging the candies. She took the payment from what Ciel had paid on the counter, which was all of it (and she slipped an extra lollipop in there, but she would never tell him that), and handed the bag to Ciel. The boy took it greedily and winked at her before leaving the store.

Putting one of the candy sticks into his mouth, Ciel spotted another prime target. The man was alone and looked nervous and jumpy, as if he had never been to the slums before. Perfect. Ciel smirked to himself before tucking the candy stick back into the bag and putting the bag into the inside of his shirt before walking up to the man.

"Sir?" He called out, making the man jump rather noticeably. Ciel chuckled inwardly, he would be easy prey.

"Yes, boy, what is it?" The man demanded, trying to sound more intimidating than he felt.

"Are you lost?" Ciel asked innocently, rocking back and forth on his feet like a curious five year old. The man was put at ease and shook his head.

"I am looking for a place called 'Black Lace', it's a...business that is supposed to be here in the slums. My friends all said it was the best place to hire a pros-temporary helper for a night or two." He said, covering up the words he probably thought Ciel was too young to hear. Ciel had to stop himself from laughing at the man's prude-ness.

"Oh, I haven't heard of a place like that, but I'm looking for Mama and Papa. Maybe we could walk together and maybe we'll find what we're looking for together?" Ciel offered, already taking the man's arm. "I feel much safer with you." He commented, inwardly laughing.

The man seemed to straighten up as if he was a knight and he walked down the streets with Ciel babbling excitedly on his arm. Ciel poured out lies about his imaginary family, telling the man about his baby sister and mother and father and how they were just so wonderful and next week was little sister's birthday and they were birthday present shopping when Ciel got separated looking in a candy shop and wasn't that stuffed rabbit just the best gift a big brother could give to his little sister? Ciel had yet to even shut up for a moment to let the man respond before he just went on like a wide-eyed little angel of a boy and he could feel the man falling deeper and deeper into the story when Ciel stopped in front of a wood-crafter's store. Deciding to make his move, Ciel just stared into the window at a heart-shaped box that had glass and shell finishing on the top, making it shine beautiful like a treasure box.

"What's that, lad?" The man asked and Ciel pulled up some tears before looking at the man.

"Oh it's nothing, I just really wanted to get this for my sister, but the shopkeeper gave a price to Papa and Mama said we couldn't afford it this year. It's just so upsetting because I really wanted to get this for her so I could put all sorts of memories in it for her when she gets older." Ciel sobbed pathetically, pulling his hand away from the glass and walking back to the man.

The man ate it up and swallowed guiltily. "I...I suppose I could buy it for you." He offered and instantly Ciel's face brightened. But then it fell again.

"But if you buy it, it won't be as special as if I bought it." He said and the man nodded slowly.

"How about this, then, I give you the money for it and you buy it for your sister?" He said, Ciel's face brightening like a light until a big smile covered his face.

"That's a great idea!" He said, bouncing on his feet as if he was five and not fourteen.

The man quickly pulled out his wallet and pulled out a large clump of bills and pushed them into Ciel's hand, almost making Ciel's heart stop.

"Is this enough?" The man asked and Ciel nodded slowly.

"Yes. Thank you so much! I'm gonna go find Mama and Papa and tell them the good news!" He said before running off excitedly, shouting 'mama' and 'papa' as he went, ignoring the man's pleas for him to stay close and not run off.

Once Ciel was far enough away, he ducked into an alleyway and laughed. This was the most he had ever managed to swindle from a person, and he was giddy. Stuffing the bills into his pocket, Ciel leaned his head back against the bricks and laughed until the sound faded. It was a great day, and the sun was only half-way through its trek across the sky. Another stupid man like that and Ciel would be able to buy dinner for his mothers. As his laughter faded and his breathing returned to normal, Ciel felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end. Someone was looking at him. He turned his head to the side and felt his entire body freeze up when he met the eyes of a man across the street. The man's eyes were vermillion, redder than even Angelina's, and his hair was black as pitch tar. He was tall and svelte, and everything about him sent warning bells off in Ciel's head. The man looked at him with a gaze that sent a message clear as a bell. I know what you did.

Ciel panicked. For the first time in his life he panicked. He quickly broke the older man's gaze and he darted down the street further and towards the brothel. Something about that man unnerved him, and he suddenly wanted to just curl up in bed and wait for his parents to get back from work.

Once again, thanks to Niki for being my wonderful editor and putting up with my nonsense despite her graduating soon. Let us throw the confetti and toast the warrior returning home.

Also. I claim no ownership over Black Butler, which is rather redundant to put into a fanfic since fanfiction is actually a perfectly legal form of art. –goes into copyright rant concerning non-canon fiction-

Love,

Petra Jade