Accepting the Facts
Alright. Time to get a move on.
xxx
Three days. How time flies. A day longer than either Alliahnna, Ciel, or Sebastian intended to stay in Paris. Perhaps a means of escape at the time, Alliahnna and Sebastian were pleased a peaches to set foot upon their French Homestead again. Their return to England a short while ago, coupled with scintillating and rare so delightful excursions, eluded their memories of how intoxicating the city of lights and love can be. The visit made all the more special by Ciel's presence. Alliahnna wished for years that Ciel could be with her to experience the wonders and mysteries the Parisian streets had to offer. Regale him for hours, and show him the locations, of hers and Sebastian most dastardly, mind stumping, and exciting of missions granted to them by Lord Schneizel himself. To tell him of her journeys with Phoebus, Maes, Carmichael, Taylor, and the others - not even demons possess that kind of time.
Possibly a good thing seeing as how Ciel was nearly driven to the brink of falling unconscious with how far and long Alliahnna was dragging him. She's shown him enough for his friend Conan Doyle to write ten novels. He had to admit. He was slightly jealous. The catacombs, the eiffel tower, the bastille - Paris held the key to Alliahnna's ascension, and breathtaking adventures she's been on have helped her to grow so strong. Ciel is able to recall how often he worried for her safety, and feared he'd be receiving a visit from a Constable informing him of her passing. He thinks himself a fool. He should have been more concerned with any who challenged her.
The people are remarkably different from those Ciel's met in England. The are some similarities, but only slight. Then again, he is only able to make these contrast due to his tourist eyes not being familiar with the streets. His time there was drawing to a close soon enough. Better to delude himself of the differences now than be disappointed in the similarities later. After all, he wishes to see the beauty in the city responsible for raising his sister. A means for him to paint her in the light she projects to others. With any luck he'll come across the elements that sharpened her tongue and refined her method of wordplay. She's become quick in her wit. Quicker he should say.
Ciel wishes he could spend just a little more time there. He's confident he hasn't scratched the surface of Paris's offerings. Unfortunately, there is a duty to which he is married to and it demands his attention back home. For now, perhaps well into the night, Paris will host him and his family for one more day.
"How are you liking Paris so far?" Alliahnna inquired, strolling arm in arm with Ciel along the La rive gauche of the River Seine. The Seine has always been one of Alliahnna's most favorite of places to lose herself in her walks. The history, the smells, and the tavern owner who sidelines as a baker and tends to offer a parcel or two to Alliahnna. One of the perks.
"It's breathtaking. Thank you for showing it to me." Ciel twinkled. He was actually having a grand time just walking. Paris was immersing him, cultivating him with her culture. He was becoming overwhelmed with the history and lore that helped build he from the legendary catacombs up. The rue de la huchette he and Alliahnna walked held a fascinating tale of it's own. Since the 17th century, the piece of Paris's most popular destinations for travelers was rife with taverns, and populated by meat cookers. The smell of freshly brewed ale coupled by briskets fresh off the cookers was enough to bring the sane to their knees and delude being in famine. "I still doubt you ever set foot in the catacombs, though. What rationality would lead you to go down there?"
"If rationality were the backbone of our work, Little Brother," Alliahnna hugged to his arm, "We wouldn't be in our line of work at all. In fact, the criminal underworld would be part of a fairy novel."
"Yes! I suppose you are right! EGH!" He shivered at the thought. "Imagine it! Us growing up as the prim and proper Lord and Lady of Phantomhive." Ciel usered a gag from Alliahnna with prim and proper. "Spending a grandeur of our days studying, partaking in dull social meetings," Incidentally, a grandeur of their days are filled with studying and dull social gatherings. Best to not ruin his moment, "Breaking to form mergers with the heads of company we woefully despise." Ciel pinched his fingers with his pinky extended in disgust. "From day to night, nothing more than duty and responsibilities of our stations to occupy us. No distractions to whisk us away."
"Please! Please! Enough!" Alliahnna clamped her ears closed. "I've had nightmares like that!" She shook him by the shoulders, "Do not forsake us by jinxing us with karma's wrath!" Alliahnna's glossy sapphire eyes trembled, her flushed cheeks melting her brother. Ciel blinked nervously, a tiny bead of sweat hanging down the side of his brow. Alliahnna ceased torturing him with her sheepish expression. She started snorting with laughter, unable to hold her seriousness. Ciel grunted, despising being fooled, but was swept up in the glee. The two held their stomachs, leaning to walls to keep themselves standing. There wasn't necessarily a joke. The two tend to laugh at the other's ridiculous face. Which, technically, means they are laughing at their OWN faces and vice versa and such. WHATEVER!
"Oh dear!" Ciel wiped a tear from his eye. "How long has it been since we could laugh like this?"
"Too long if neither of us can remember!"
Why stop the laughter there? There was a bit of a walk before Schneizel's Estate. Ciel and Alliahnna regaled one another in scintillating tales of their separately led adventures, entertaining a few more laughs from each other. Short lived or long lived, Alliahnna and Ciel were going to enjoy the full extent of the other's company. For once, it seemed as if they would be able to enjoy a day to themselves. WITHOUT any unpleasantness arriving to disrupt them. NO SUCH LUCK!
xxx
The walk was cut remarkably short than it was meant to be. Last Ciel and Alliahnna checked, the steps of Notre Dame trailed at their side. The rigorous and arduous bangings of a hammers captured their ears for a brief second. Crews were working tirelessly to rebuild from the fire incident last year. Alliahnna felt it best to not comment too much on what she knows about it. Least of all when walking past one of Paris's grandest landmarks fills her with nauseating unease.
Moving on to their present predicament, Ciel and Alliahnna returned to Schneizel's Estate vastly ahead of their walk's schedule. Lost in their neverending stories of mystery, intrigue, and murder. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle himself would be tickled to publish tales similar to what they live. If he hasn't already. The clock tolled on noon as they entered. It was time for tea. And a little lunch wouldn't hurt. he pair found themselves wanting something light, sweet, and nutritious. Alliahnna learned from Sebastian how to make parfaits.
Now for the unpleasantness. Ciel and Alliahnna come to the kitchen. They are about to open the door when, "My Dearest Lord Schneizel, I wonder what this cream would look like on the rest of you." Thunder and lightning clashed in the twins' minds. Grim, irritated lines ran down their all white eyes. That cacophonous, harpy-banshee, bone chilling, screech of a voice. It can only belong to one person. Alliahnna was praying they were wrong. "Would you let me lick you clean? Or shall I use my fingers?" The lecherous giggling made her skin crawl. Her bangs hiding her irritated expression, she grit her teeth and almost crushed the door handle opening it. Anime veins clenched across her head. Ciel stood on his tiptoes to see past her. He turned green.
Schneizel's thighs were pressed against the table. His upper back was pinned to the wall. He laughed nervously at the figure leaning for the white cream was splotched on his cheek. Gloved fingers spidered to his broad chest. Slender legs straddled his hips. Olive green eyes batted amorously behind rectangular glasses, and razor sharp teeth showed in a hungry grin. Long red hair belonging to the infamous Grell Sutcliff was stained by stray flour. Sebastian was at the stove, vigorously stirring a custard. Eyes closed in aggravation of the disgusting fornication happening behind him. If only his ears would close as well.
"Uh-oh! It's melting." Schneizel glanced to the cream streaming to his chin. "Allow me…" Grell long tongue crept to the cheek. Schneizel resigned himself to the contact. Thankfully Lydia wasn't around to see this. Otherwise she would steal the pleasure of suckerpunching Grell.
"GRELL!" Schneizel and Grell froze. A boot planted to Grell's face and he was sent crashing through the wall to the storage closet. Two members of Schneizel's staff forze with baguettes in their mouths, then ran off. Schneizel and Ciel were lost for breath and words, blinking in absolute shock of Alliahnna's outburst. One would think they'd be used to this sort of behavior from her. Sebastian wasn't bothered. He just kept stirring his brew. And snickering under his breath.
"Perfect timing, as usual!" Schneizel praised. He flinched when her razor sharp glare met him.
"WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING HERE?"
"Working! Or so he claims." Schneizel shrugged her shoulders, feigning to be innocent in Grell's ambitions. Ciel and Alliahnna saw his work. Doubtful Will gave permission for pleasure during business.
"And you!" She snarled to Sebastian. He hummed in acknowledgement, casually glancing to her from the corner of his eyes. "Why are you letting Grell snog on him?! He's about to be a married man!"
"Then he should enjoy the splendors of an unbound man whilst he can." Sebastian crooned menacingly. "Besides, Grell's sights are not on me while he is in the room. So…" Alliahnna growled heatedly, puffing her cheeks. So Schneizel is a lamb for you! Bastard!
Grell groaned dizzily. He pulled himself up by the crumbled well. His eyes swirled with chibi forms of himself massaging the lumps on his head, and putting powder to the footprint on his face. "So unless Schneizel is slated for death," GOD PLEASE FORBID, "There is absolutely no reason for you to be here!" Alliahnna declared.
"GRAH! YOU BOORISH WENCH!" Grell snapped to his feet like a plank of wood, towering over Alliahnna. "What I do on my own time during work is MY-BUSI-NESS!" Fire roared from his mouth. Alliahnna fanned flames on her hairs. "And I'll have you know there is someone within this manor slated for death!"
"What?!" Alliahnna gaped in dismay. Ciel and Schneizel gasped horrified. Sebastian paused, straining an ear to listen. "Th-That can't be right! Are you sure?!" Please let him be wrong! Please! She screamed in her mind. Rationally speaking, regardless of who someone is or where they are, anyone can be summoned to death's door.
"It says so right here!" Grell gruffly shoved his ledger in her face. Alliahnna pried the book off her nose. She skimmed the copious contents top to bottom. Grell acts the fool, but he's a very assiduous employee of The Reapers. A lot of people were slated to die one dates spanning the calendar, but no one she recognized. "Here…" Grell pointed to the name.
"MYERS!" Alliahnna's outburst quaked Schneizel. Ciel and Sebastian recognized the name. He's the young FORMER Lieutenant to Phoebus. He was dismissed from his station after his seven month trial reached its conclusion. A unanimous decision by Phoebus and Alliahnna sent him back to the rank of trainee. He was less than gracious about his demotion. His decorum left much to be desired. He brought it upon himself. But enough to be slated for death? "Francois Myers. Age: 18. Born in Toulouse. Death by...Phoebus?"
"Phoebus is going to execute Myers?!" Ciel gasped.
"He wouldn't! He couldn't!" Schneizel stamped to Alliahnna. She showed him the ledger. Right there in calligraphic ink. Francois Myers death would be issued by Commander Phoebus himself. Schneizel shook his head with disbelief. Phoebus isn't this sort of person. He would never take justice into his own hands. That isn't how he trained him or Alliahnna. "I gave no such permission, nor did I sign execution warrants! He cannot execute someone on a whim!"
"I am afraid that is not how this works." Grell delicately plucked the ledger from Alliahnna, closing it in one hand. "The ledger depicts HOW Mr. Myers will die, the time, and who or what will be responsible. What it doesn't say is for what reason."
"How does that work?" Schneizel furrowed his brow with grave intrigue.
Grell waved the ledger haughtily, "You see, the higher ups of our bureau are the ones who create the list of souls we have to collect. They are put in here." He tapped the death ledger. "Thorough information is collected. Date of birth, name, parents, and the day they die and in what manner. Reapers like us are then sent to study them, and when death calls to them we decide whether or not they live or die." A cold, vague interpretation of his work. But factual nonetheless.
"Their decisions are swayed by the reel of memories known as cinematic records." Sebastian added, returning to his custard. "A kaleidoscope of images depicting a person's life. Humans would recognize it seeing their life flash before their eyes." Not Grell's favorite comparison, but it was the closest without going too into detail. "With them, Grell can prolong or end lives as he pleases."
"Precisely!" Grell flew into a fanwing fit, kissing lips toward Sebastian. "OH, BASSY, YOU KNOW ME THROUGH AND THROUGH! I SHALL RETURN THE-"
"Oh dear…" Sebastian swiftly poured the custard in a pie plate, then smashed it into Grell's face. Sebastian projected his typical crow like smirk, touching a hand to his lips, "It would seem my hand has slipped and our snack for tea has been delayed!" He feigned innocence. Ciel, Schneizel, and Alliahnna weren't able to help the fit of laughter they tried to stifle. The oozing concoction slipped to the floor. Grell hung over in defeat. "Do forgive me, My Lords and Lady!"
"Not at all." Alliahnna mockingly ran a finger up Grell's cheek, slurping the tart custard lovingly. Sebastian felt a twinge of jealousy. "Grell was long ever do for a taste of humble pie."
"I'LL GIVE YOU HUMBLE!" Grell gathered what was on his face and smashed it to hers. Grell laughed heartily, sticking his tongue out. "How's that for a just dessert?!"
"Needs a little more SUGAR!" Alliahnna punched him.
"HOW ABOUT SALT! C'MERE!" Grell retaliated with a tackle. Incidentally, he had a small package of salt in his hand.
The pair wrestled viciously on the floor, knocking flour, eggs, and that sugar Alliahnna wanted all over them and the floor. Profanities and curses were discerned amongst the roarings. Sebastian huffed a mushroom cloud. Then he smiled warmly. Those two express their friendship in the oddest ways to him. He wondered what would transpire if Grell knew Alliahnna and he severed their relationship. Ciel and Schneizel fumbled on how to stop the pair before they destroyed the kitchen. Their one on ones usually ended with a surmountable amount of damage left in their wakes. Schneizel and Ciel have been lucky they never fought inside their homes. Today that luck just might run out.
From amid the dust cloud, Grell's death ledger flew. Schneizel fumbled on the catch. Those two were in a heated fray. It was reduced from hardcore punches to hair pulling and clawing. The words whore, homewrecker, and other Schneizel dare not repeat were used. He gave up trying to stop Alliahnna and Grell. He stopped Ciel before he was sucked in. Instead her re-read Francois's Death sentence. At the hands of Phoebus. He could hardly bring himself to believe it. Francois is rough around the edges, and derisive towards those he deems below them, but there are dozens in court worse than him. He isn't one to question the wisdom or intentions of death. But to have Francois's death be at the hand of Phoebus. Why? What has Francois done? Or...what will he do?
Schneizel hummed aloud, scrolling the contents. "Is something the matter Lord Schneizel?" Ciel overheard the thoughts in his head. Sebastian had to admit, he was curious of what Schneizel was pondering.
"Grell said a time is narrowed to when one is about to die." Schneizel recalled. Name, birth, parents, hometown, death...time. Schneizel went pale as a ghost. "2:15! Alliahnna!" Alliahnna and Grell angrily puffed their cheeks glaring at him. Alliahnna's expression softened at his terror. "It says here Francois will die at 2:15pm!" She raised a confused brow. "Phoebus and Oliver are escorting Prime Minister Richard Vuitton's Daughter to the Palace of Justice! She is to meet him at 2:00!"
xxx
Prime Minister Richard Vuitton was a beloved visitor from Wales. A self made man who rose in rank and stature amongst his peers after a scandal caused his mother to commit suicide. Though the unfavorable gossip involving the scandal follows him like a stench on a skunk, the Prince of Wales held him in the highest regard. A Duchess who was part of his court fell head over heels in love with him, and 20 years later they are blessed with a well rounded daughter with a knack for politics. Isabella. Her niche, however, is in historical monuments. Precisely what brings her and her father to the Palace of Justice.
Paris's Palace of Justice, famous for the imprisonment of Marie Antoinette, was no longer a place of imprisonment and punishment. The old parliament of Paris moved their judiciary branch to a new location, and matters of state ceased being discussed in those halls. It was now a museum well suited for the education in the new generation, and a monument of how far law and order progressed. When the aftermath embers of French Revolution died to no more than a scorched scar, the Palace suffered heavy damages. Two architects - Joseph-Louis Duc and Honoré Daumet - in 1850's and 1860's reconstructed the site into a museum. With the added sculptural marvels by Jean-Marie Bonnassieux, the Palace of Justice cast its allure, and drew thousands to her steps.
Phoebus and Oliver dismounted from the carriage's coach seats. Oliver stood at the foot of the palace's steps, hands folded behind his back and at attention. Phoebus erected himself to attention, opening the carriage door. "We have arrived, Lady Isabella." He offered a hand that was met by a cafe toned hand.
"Thank you." The sun glistened off a peach dress. The white lacy low shoulder collar wafted in the light breeze. Bows at the low hem of the skirt arched another weaving of lace. A string of pearls complemented by a maroon jewel, shimmered. Isabelle, with brimming green eyes, smiled gratefully to Phoebus. Loose strands of her sleek, lustrous raven hair streamed from her tied up hair. "I must pardon myself for troubling you, Commander Phoebus." She curtsied. "My father and Lord Schneizel needn't have sent you both."
"No trouble at all, Lady Isabella." Phoebus closed the carriage, and offered her his arm. "Sergeant Oliver and I are pleased by your visit. You've grown beautifully since your last visit."
"Oh! Thank you, Commander!" She blushed at his charm. Phoebus knew just what to say. She tenderly wrapped her hand to his arm. Oliver followed close at their heels, minding the crowds. The day was proving quiet and peaceful enough. Although, it is not unheard of for the unsavory to identified high class individuals and make attempts on their person.
Unknown to Oliver, one such unsavory person was lurking in the shadows. Their green eyes beaming with envy and hatred as a malicious grin glistened.
"How long will you and your father be in Paris for?" Phoebus slowed his pace as they ascended the steps. Isabella's heels nearly stepped on her dress climbing the steep steps.
"Just for the duration of the week, I'm afraid." She shook her head. "Once we are finished her, we will be visiting our counterparts in the nation of America."
"What for, if I may ask?" Oliver darted past Phoebus and Isabella, opening the doors to the palace.
Isabella curtsied to Oliver, earning a blush from him. "Father says he and other world leaders are discussing occupancy of prospects of land for visiting nations." Oliver closed the doors behind them. "For example: an assembly hall ordained by Britain on American soil would carry the authority and diplomatic power of Britain."
"Ah! I see! They wish to establish an embassy of nations on foreign soil!" Phoebus approved. France had a couple of Embassy's on her soil. "Surely such an idea breeds assumptions of audacity."
"There were temptations to throw balls of paper and tomatoes." She giggled. "One man threatened to bring rain in the middle of June."
"Humans have done crazier, I'm afraid."
"We are a creative bunch, aren't we?" She, Phoebus, and Oliver snorted in laughter, trying to keep a low volume so not to disturb the patrons of the museum. One patron in particular wasn't laughing.
xxx
People idly meandering the streets, lavishing in the company of friends and good food, were baffled by the rampant clapping of hurried feet. Glancing to where the noise was coming from, the crowds scrambled apart like frightened geese. Ciel, Schneizel, Alliahnna, and Sebastian darted down the streets, startling those who didn't see them in time to avoid them. The coachman caught sight of Schneizel and his company departing in haste and offered to transport them. They were too fast for him. Not to mention the traffic would have delayed them worse than walking. Or breaking into a marathon. The Palace of Justice was their goal. Nothing would stand in their way. Grell, with hands hands behind his head, skipped over and pranced past those who had taken a fall. He hummed leisurely, finding their race to be in vain. Humans and their relationships boggled and bored him. But their feeble attempts to cease what cannot be stopped amused him.
"OF ALL THE TIMES FOR THE PRIME MINISTER AND HIS DAUGHTER TO VISIT!" Alliahnna cursed the timing.
"Are we certain Francois will be at the Palace of Justice?!" Ciel voiced his doubts. "What if he's elsewhere when Phoebus kills him?"
"It's the only logical place for them to cross paths!" Schneizel argued. It was a half hour until two when they discovered Francois's fate in the ledger. Phoebus is nothing if not punctual, and diligent in his duties. "Even should the Prime Minister and Isabella meet, Phoebus won't dismiss himself until he is ordered to do so!"
"Not to mention Phoebus has a good relationship with Isabella!" Alliahnna mentioned the hitch in Phoebus's departure. "He always watched over her whenever she visited Paris! She loves him! They'll make the most of the visit while they can!"
"Neither of which aware of what is about to happen!" Ciel snarled.
"Phoebus cannot be allowed to kill Francois!" Schneizel declared. He darted down a shortcut he's been familiar with since childhood. It will cut their distance by a quarter. "We must stop them!"
"HOLD IT!" Grell's chainsaw broke the wall. Schneizel's nose touched the smooth side of the cold steel. Grell's olive green eyes were hued ominously by a blinding glare on his glasses. A bead of sweat trailed Schneizel's head. "Don't go trying to change what has already been decreed by The Reapers!" One eye pierced the glare, turning Schneizel to stone. Alliahnna and Ciel yanked him a safe distance away. Grell grasped Schneizel by the collar, wrenching him so close he can feel his breath on his face. "Reapers are neutral in all aspects of daily human and spirit life. Meaning I will not hesitate to kill you if you interfere!" Schneizel swallowed a massive lump. Grell ignore Alliahnna and Sebastian priming to attack him. While Grim Reapers may be impervious to death in certain aspects, it won't stop them from challenging him. Grell released Schneizel, edging him into the arms of his comrades. "I won't stop you from bearing witness. Oh no! I'm intrigued by this as well." Grell curled fingers near his smirking lips. "Though I advise that we hurry." He pointed a clock posted in a cafe window. It was already 2:00. "Myers is slated to die in 15 minutes."
The rate they were running, they'd arrive too late to do anything. Not that Grell would let them. But still, Alliahnna didn't want Phoebus alone with Myers or when he falls victim to a reaper's predictions. Time to take the fast route.
"Schneizel…" Alliahnna smirked like a mischievous cat, "I don't think you've ever traveled by demon, have you?"
xxx
Isabella was engrossed by the museum's rich history. Her eyes shimmered and shined as she spun in the atrium. The morbidly vivid detail in the art depicting the primal forms of torture captivated her. She could feel the sharp contact of each whip strike. Hear the flesh ripping open, and wailings of the victims. She was immersed several decades back into when these barbaric methods were popular. She fell in love, gushing with hearts floating around her head. She won't deny her masochistic and sadistic sides. She quickly moved on to the life sized effigies of judges, executions, and authorities who would were crucial during the Palace of Justice youth.
"I would remark upon your father being late," Phoebus rested a hand on her shoulder, smirking adoringly at her sparkling features, "But you seem to be enjoying yourself too much."
Isabella cupped her flushed cheeks. "Does it look like it?!" She wiggled, giggling uncontrollably. She's enamoured with the museum. Paris held so many mysteries and enchantments she rarely gets to experience. The Palace of Justice is just the tip of the iceberg for her. A shame she won't be staying too long. "Father is probably meeting with the curator of the museum. They're old friends, you see."
"Ah yes. I recall them chatting over ale when last you visited." Oliver tapped his chin. He inwardly laughed at a hilarious outcome that Schneizel uses to blackmail the Prime Minister whenever he visits. Certain nude propaganda Schneizel had to pull a lot of strings in order to have it erased.
"Do you wish to know something interesting?" Isabella teased them both with her quiz. "It was Monsieur Curator Belahan that inspired my father to propose the idea of embassies in America."
"You don't say?!" Phoebus and Oliver gasped.
"Uh-huh! Father discussed the idea countless times with his court." The passion in which her father spoke the idea always inspired her. Once an idea popped into his head, nothing deterred him. "As you can expect, he was met with berating words himself." She sighed somberly. Phoebus and Oliver would be more surprised if opposition wasn't met. The new can always be frightening. Grown men are said to become absolute children when a new idea arises. Either because it wasn't their idea, or because it threatens what they have.
As Isabella proceeded to venture deeper into the Palace, Isabella felt a discomfort in her lower stomach. Luckily, the restroom was around the corner nearby. "Will you both excuse me for a moment?" She directed their attention to the lou. "I will return."
"We will be here, My Lady." Oliver promised. She curtsied thankfully and rushed off. Oliver chuckled adoringly, putting hands on her hips. "Doesn't she remind you of Lydia in a way?"
"I was thinking of Alliahnna." Phoebus blushed.
"Again, you mean!" Oliver sniggered. Phoebus's blush darkened. "You really love our former Commander, don't you?"
"Is it that obvious?"
"Yeah. Don't be embarrassed. We all love her." Phoebus beamed at his response. No matter how old she grows, she will always be little bright eyed Alliahnna.
xxx
Isabella felt the discomfort growing to the brink of bursting. She darted around the corner. She bounced off a person, falling to her butt. "Oh! Pardon-" She stopped abruptly, unnerved by the drawn sword, "Me…?" The figure snickered, bringing the sword to her neck.
xxx
2:07. Phoebus was baffled by the time. "She's been in there for a while." He muttered. Oliver agreed. Even with a dress, she shouldn't be taking so long. "Perhaps her business is a strenuous one. Lets permit her more time."
Oliver nodded in agreement. Then he saw Isabella emerging from the corner. "Lady Isabella!" He cheered. "We were beginning to think you'd-" Oliver lost color. As Isabella emerged further, the sword wrapped at her throat turned his and Phoebus's blood to ice. The twistedly grinning figure holding it to her neck turned them as white as sheets.
"You should guard this precious woman more efficiently, Commander!"
"Francois?!" Phoebus gasped.
xxx
"AAHH…!" Schneizel shrieked like a child, holding onto Sebastian for dear life. He was squeezing the life out of Sebastian's neck, planting himself so firmly against his back.
The butler launched high in the sky. So high Schneizel would swear he could touch the clouds. The descent was steep and swift. The weightlessness reduced Schneizel to gelatin. Sebastian would gracefully touch to an ever so thin chimney pipe, not a single sound uttered, and launch a vast distance again. Schneizel was tempted to kiss Sebastian when he just ran and jumped between rooftops. His speed was remarkable. Grell laughed crazily as he used the telegraph wires as tightropes. He was sprinting a marathon, showing off his acrobatic skills in the process. He'd drop suddenly to the streets, erupting back to the wire with bagels and pastries in his mouth. Alliahnna was springing from narrow points, using distance in place of speed to match Grell and Sebastian. Even with Ciel on her back, she didn't slow down for an instant. Ciel wasn't bothered by her feats. Schneizel's born witness to demon powers in the minimum before. Being part of their immeasurable speed and agility is something humans should strive to experience.
"Do you require me to decrease my pace, Lord Schneizel?" Sebastian teasingly asked. Schneizel seemed pale with a tint of green.
"N-no! I'll be fine!" He hoarsely objected. Phoebus and Myers are the priority. Written in a reaper's ledger or not, Schneizel refuses to stand idly by whilst two of his officers face certain death. "Expedite your speed! Please!" He squeezed Sebastian's shoulders. "We must be there before the catastrophe starts!"
"HOLD ON!" He nodded affirmingly with Alliahnna. She tapped Ciel's hands, coaxing him to tighten his grip. Alliahnna and Sebastian dug in the balls of their feet and rocketed to newfound heights on their next jump.
Faster! We must go faster! Schneizel pleaded. He must reach Phoebus.
xxx
Phoebus stared in dismay. Francois Myers, cackling liked a crazed patient of the Maison De Lunes, held the trembling Isabella's frail throat at the mercy of his stainless steel sword. A twisted expression on his face, brimming with a rousing madness. Phoebus and Oliver were struggling between drawing their swords to strike and remaining still. The blade's flawless edge was pressed right to her skin. Just her fighting to control her shaky breathing was breaking the skin. She winced as often as Myers twisted her arm further behind her back. Her wrist felt like it was about to break.
A curious crowd was drawing to the fray. Wide eyes were frightened by Myers and the sword he had to Isabella's neck. Frightening most of all was his uniform. It was recognized as Schneizel's Guard uniforms. Oliver pat Phoebus on the back, and rushed to handle the encroaching people. The less hostages the better. The PR issues surely to follow will have to come later. For now, he will spin a tale. "Ladies and Gentlemen, if you would please make your way to the next exhibit." He politely encouraged with a arm folded behind his back. "Currently this area is being used for mock drill exercises. Our officers require the utmost focus at the moment." The lie seemed to assuage current curiosities. While human nature would be to stay and ogle, the people dispersed and went on their way. For now, Oliver and Phoebus had the run of the place. Now for their next problem.
"You must pardon my mishandling of you, My Lady." Myers crooned, his insincerity like venom in her ear. "It will end soon."
"Francois, stop!" Phoebus commanded venomously. This doesn't make sense to Phoebus. Not in the slightest. Myers? What was he doing? Does he realize the repercussions his actions will bring down upon him? Be this a cruel and depraved joke...or something far worse that Phoebus's influence may not be able to undo. "Why are you doing this?" He didn't notice he sounded as if he was pleading for an answer.
"Why? WHY?!" Myers' self control evaporated. He spun Isabella, ramming his sword butt between her ribs. She was consumed in black, falling limp in his arms. He threw aside like a piece of deadweight. She collided with a corner, horrified by the crack in the wall she made. "After dismissing me for that old croon behind you at the behest of that horrid wench," Oliver felt a stab in his chest, "YOU'RE GOING TO ASK ME WHY?!" His roars echoed throughout the Palace.
"Alliahnna's judgement was sound!" Phoebus defended, stomping a foot. "She chose you for your skills in combat and the tact you showed during investigations!" Phoebus shared in her preference of him. He showed a pluck most wasted at his age. He was swift to identify clues, but steady when drawing conclusions. Her swordsmanship was top of the class. "You soiled her faith in you when your true regard for others showed! She only confirmed what I've born witness to!" To Phoebus's eternal shame, he allowed Myers to do as he pleased in hopes it would teach him humility and selflessness. Now he sees those efforts were wasted. He shook his head regretfully. "I would have removed you whether or not she ever came back to Paris!"
Myers' canines sharpened like fangs, biting into his lower lip. Unadulterated rage burned in his green eyes. His sanity slipping further and further away. He lowered his head. His arms and shoulder priming and shaking viciously. "I am a member of Lord Schneizel's personal guard! I worked harder, longer, and trained myself until the brink of unconsciousness more than anyone else!" He frothed at the mouth. The insults hurtled at him in a hellfire. The damage to his pride - will it never cease?! He shot his head up, arching his sword to Phoebus, showing him the knicks and imperfections that sword has suffered. "MY SKILLS SURPASS EVERYONE'S! YOURS, OLIVER'S, ALLIAHNNA'S! MY BIRTHRIGHT GRANTS ME LEAVE TO TREAT WHOEVER I WANT HOWEVER I WISH!" He swung his arm, laughing crazily. "All of Paris should be bowing at our feet when we come within ten feet of them!"
"Precisely why you are a disgrace to the order!" Phoebus howled.
"PHOEBUS!" Myers charged.
"FRANCOIS!" Phoebus
xxx
A handful of people meandered down the Palace of Justice stairs, rambling in excitement of the newest additions of the exhibit they saw. It was always filling the minds of patrons with wonder.
Alliahnna, Sebastian, and Grell dropped from out of nowhere amongst the crowd. A gust of air frightened them, and had the women holding their dresses flat. Ciel and Schneizel dismounted from Sebastian and Alliahnna. Adoring mutters of Schneizel's arrival caught their ears, but they were of little consequence. Schneizel heatedly scoured the courtyard, praying that luck would be kind and reveal Phoebus and Myers. Luck truly despised him. As he feared, Phoebus and Myers were inside the Palace. Where, is the question.
"Pardon me, Mademoiselle!" Schneizel aggressively raced to a woman, making her and her friends blush. "Please excuse my intrusion. But I was wondering if you've seen two gentleman wearing white uniforms."
"Yes! They are in the second atrium! The Hall of Torture items used!" She answered swiftly and with hearts in her eyes. "They're practicing a mocking drill of sorts." Alliahnna, Sebastian, and Schneizel paled.
Schneizel kept to an old tradition and kissed the palm of her palm. "Merci…" He purred. The woman heated up like a thermometer and steam exploded from her head and ears. Her friends caught her, squealing exuberantly.
"A drill?" Ciel remarked confusedly. "An odd thing for Myers to be killed for, don't you think?"
"Except we don't run drills in heavily populated areas!" Alliahnna snarled. "Mock Drill is code for hostage situation! Oliver came up with it when he and others were practicing hostage negotiations!"
"Lady Isabella is with him, is she not?!" Sebastian gasped.
"I know where the atrium is!" Schneizel announced. "Follow me!"
xxx
Phoebus and Myers' swords shrilly clashed, generating sparks in every direction. The swings sliced through their air with an incredible rapid force. Pivoting feet threw weight behind the strikes, adding to the grudging blows. Whilst both were in the midst of mania, a certain rationality controlled the accuracy behind the swings for those deadly - though parried - strikes. Phoebus and Myers deadlocked their swords, pouring their weight in and bringing their glares within inches of one another. Their digging feet nearly dug grooves in the marble flooring. Their swords clattered. The steel grounding against one another. Then they pushed each other apart and began their duel again. The reverberating shrieks of metal shot up Oliver's still body. He watched in utter amazement as Myers stood toe to toe with Phoebus. It was unprecedented and unbelievable. Only two others can match Phoebus. Myers was not one of them.
The swords locked once more. This time Myers met the lock with his sword flipped upside down, palm pressed along the flat of the blade. Phoebus managed to fend Myers' impressive strength with one hand. But he wasn't about to become cocky just yet. Myers is a man of surprises.
"It doesn't have to be this way, Francois!" Phoebus pleaded. A part of Myers was calm enough to concoct this plan. He must be open to reason somewhere. "Stop this madness at once!"
"Now why would I want to do that?!" Myers surprised him with a boot to the stomach. Phoebus lost his breath. "Madness is my method, and method is my MADNESS!" Myers connected two more kicks to his chest and then his face, sending Phoebus crashing into a suit of armor. An axe narrowly missed his manhood. "Both bring me to one ultimate conclusion! In order to get what I want, to achieve my dreams," He aimed his sword threateningly to the shakily rising Phoebus, "I must remove all who threaten them!"
"And then what?!" Phoebus spat up blood, balancing on a pedestal to stand. "Will you kill Lord Schneizel next? Alliahnna?"
"As I said…" Myers strutted to him, "Anyone who threatens my goals," He grinned crazily, "Will be destroyed!" Phoebus grimaced. His arm trembled as he lifted it protectively.
"ENOUGH, TRAITOR!" Oliver tackled Myers, wrestling to pry the sword from his hands.
"STAY OUT OF MY WAY, OLD MAN!" Myers whipped his hands around, grasping Oliver by both wrists. He twisted his body, and threw Oliver near Isabella. "SOMEONE LIKE YOU DOESN'T STAND A CHANCE AGAINST ME! FILTH!" He roared venomously.
"PHOEBUS! OLIVER!" Myers snarled through gritted teeth at the voice. Phoebus gaped with relief. Schneizel, Alliahnna, and their idiotic entourage arrived. They knew how to intrude on his fun. Schneizel raced to Phoebus, lending him a shoulder so he could stand. To put into words how happy he was that they made it in time would be a challenge. "MYERS!" Alliahnna howled. She motioned a hand to Sebastian. He nodded and ran for Oliver and Isabella. "Have you lost your mind?!" A dumb question seeing the damage he's caused.
"HELLO, MY LADY!" Myers twirled his sword. He licked the blade ravenously. "SO GLAD YOU CAME TO DIE!" Myers charged for her. Alliahnna knit her brow. She folded her hands.
Phoebus darted in Myers' path. He gaped in shock. Phoebus thrust his sword. Myers reacted and swatted it. The sword flew out of Phoebus's hand, becoming stuck in the skull of a bust. He grimaced at the shock in his wrist. Myers thrust for Phoebus's chest. Phoebus bent all the way back. The blade shaved hairs from his chin. He kicked a foot up, launching Myer's sword in the air. Myers stumbled, holding his hand. Phoebus caught the falling sword, and slashed Myers across the chest. A gash opened in his chest, blood soaking into his uniform.
"Nice timing." Alliahnan grimly praised.
"Thank you for not stepping in." Pheobus returned the compliment.
"Of course." Myers held the wound, staggering toward the pierced bust. He pried Phoebus's sword free, holding it at the ready. In spite of his vision blurring. The battle was going nowhere. Phoebus was clearly the better. Myers was waist energy and causing problem that needn't be. "That's enough, Myers!" Alliahnna stomped her foot. "Cease this folly at once!"
"I don't take orders from you!"
"No! You take them from me!" Phoebus stepped forward, raising his sword, declaring battle on Myers. Alliahnna hissed through gritted teeth. She caught sight of a clock. Two minutes until Myers was foreshadowed to die. This could be it. Phoebus saw Alliahnna was going to charge. He forbid her with a head shake. He understands why she wishes to stop him. But...this is HIS duty as Schneizel's Commander. Alliahnna admired and respected Phoebus more than anyone. She does not doubt he cannot handle Myers. She just...she can't bear the thought of him ending someone because of a grand design.
Ending a life via another's design. Why does that sound so familiar? Because Alois Trancy and Ciel are trying to end one another by a design set in place by starved demons. The difference here, those death lead to a grand scheme. A design Alois and Ciel initiated when they agreed to their contracts. And when those contracts are fulfilled…both boys will vanish...forever.
Alliahnna paused momentarily. Is that why? Her doubts will have to wait. Phoebus was waiting for her response, and he was determined to end this. She wordlessly nodded. Phoebus returned the nod and furrowed his brow.
"Francois Pineaux Myers, in the name of Count Schneizel El Britannia, governor of Paris and Sovereign of Britain, I do hereby charge you with treason of the highest degree!" Myers bit so hard on his lip he punctured the skin, drawing a thin trickle of blood. Alliahnna and Schneizel gazed upon their comrade, moved by the omnipotence of his decree. The weight of his words bore the full force cannon fire. The consequences, should Myers continue his fight, would end with the prophesied death. Phoebus understood what lies ahead for Myers. He is willing to take responsibility for what happens next. "Lay down your sword and surrender quietly!"
"I have a better idea, PHOEBUS!" Myers spat blood to the floor, adding to what was spilling from him. "Lay down your sword...AND DIE!"
"AS YOU WISH!" Phoebus stomped one foot forward.
Myers ran at him at full speed, raising his sword high above his head. Phoebus twisted his body, drawing his sword back. He locked hard eyes with Myers, ushering him closer. Come at me, foolish boy! Myers leapt into the air. The madness in his eyes symbolized he was no longer within reason. The sword came down. Phoebus hardened his gaze. He pivoted on his feet, feeling the breeze as Myers' sword narrowly missed. Alliahnna watched disinterested at the miss, locking eyes with Myers. It infuriated him. When she seemed to glance past him, Myers turned too late. Phoebus plunged his sword into Myers from stomach to back. Ciel and Schneizel gaped in horror of the blood spattering. Sebastian, Alliahnna, and Phoebus closed their eyes with remorse. Grell, however, licked his lips hungrily.
Myers' dying eyes widened. The green irises shrank to the size of dots. Phoebus squeezed his shoulder, pressing the blade further. His blood spilled along the blade to the hilt, soaking to his gloves. The slowing beats of his heart thumped the sword. "Why...Phoebus...why?" He gargled, blood spilling from his mouth.
"Because, Francois," Phoebus closed his eyes with remorse, then opened them to grant Francois's departing soul closure, "I swore to protect France from people like you!" Myers' gaped in utter shock, shattering in the face of those words. The shock took the light from his eyes, and drew the final breath from his lungs. In Phoebus's arms, Francois Myers passed on. Sebastian cradled Oliver to the site, bringing the man from his delirium with state of his dying comrade. Oliver, Alliahnna, and Schneizel bowed their heads, placing a hand over their hearts in remembrance of the man he was. Not who he died as.
"BING!" Grell chimed, fanning his arms like clock hands. The time fell on 2:15. "And Francois Myers is dead! May I get to work now?" Schneizel and Ciel were appalled by his deprave question. Sebastian and Alliahnna weren't surprised by Grell's tactless outburst, but least he could do was offer Phoebus a moment. "What? I told you I had work to do."
"Work?" Oliver glanced between Grell and the others. "What work?" Phoebus would like to know what work he was talking about as well. As he is aware Grell is a Grim Reaper, he can only assume he will bear witness to a gruesome scene like he did with Roland a year ago.
"We'll tell you later." Alliahnna reassured him. It's too long a story. "For now…" She motioned her head to an unconscious Isabella in the corner, "I believe the Prime Minister is expecting her. We shouldn't keep him waiting."
"Oh. Right." Phoebus moped. He feared what Isabella's reaction to what transpired would be. She is a spirited woman, but not one accustomed to this sort of turmoil. By all accounts, this would be her first hostage situation. Phoebus and Oliver ran to wake her. The idea will be to assure her she passed out when the chaos started. From there, there will need to be an improve.
Grell began his work on Myers, watching in dull fascination of Myers' cinematic record. He already decided not to revive Myers by how pitiful his life was. Saves him a mass amount of paperwork in the end. Alliahnna watched as Myers life flashed before her. A boy of a prominent family, given everything he wanted, inattentive parents, and showed promise with a sword. A dull life, but one that made her feel sorry for him.
Ciel stood beside Alliahnna, folding his arms. "You never twitched." He mumbled.
"Hm?" She lifted a brow to him.
"When Myers came for you, you could have easily repelled him." It happened in slow motion for Ciel. Myers was inches away from her. Her hand was in prime position to strike. Instead she did nothing. "As if you knew Phoebus would intercept him."
"Because I did." She reassured him with a smile. The look in Phoebus's eyes when she entered the room are what restricted her attack, "But this was Phoebus's fight. I wouldn't interfere even if I was struck."
"It was still amazing. When Phoebus and Myers fought," Phoebus's agility was amazing. Ciel would swear he was a demon too by how effortlessly he repelled Myers, "You watched them in idle fascination, and in equal serenity. You never wavered when he lost his sword, or rushed to his aid when he seemed in danger." Phoebus is a powerful man, but he is still a human. Regardless if it was his fight, Alliahnna could have ended it right then and there. "Why not?"
"Because Phoebus would never lose to a swordsman like Myers."
"What do you mean?"
"Someone who allows their emotions to lead their strikes is doomed for losses." Not to mention, Grell would kill her - literally - if she killed Myers in Phoebus's place. "Be too gleeful and you become cocky. Swing your sword in rage, your accuracy diminishes and the sword becomes a club." She touched her seal nostalgically. "As officers of Paris, we engage the enemy at the height of our decorum, and display proper etiquette in our bouts. Through that we project one of France's oldest creeds."
"Liberté, égalité, fraternité…" Phoebus meandered beside her, placing a hand to her head. Oliver was seeing to the awakened Isabella, escorting her to the restrooms so she may fix herself up. She looks as though she will be fine. The jury is still out on that. "Even though she was a rank above me," He ruffled her hair, "I etched those into the heads of Alliahnna and my subordinates, and the weight they carry." He stared Ciel in the eye, wanting him to comprehend the depths of their loyalty. "To abandon them would be to abandon France, and themselves."
Ciel touched his chin pensively. That made perfect sense to him. He nodded approvingly, thankful someone like Phoebus was Alliahnna's teacher. "You kept good company, Alliahnna." He praised. "Commander Phoebus, you have my thanks again."
"Of course." Phoebus bowed.
"Well there you have it!" Grell obnoxiously announced. He put his death scythe away, sauntering from the corpse. To be honest, it could have been a prettier boy. He pressed a finger to Phoebus's forehead. "Your man led a pretty pathetic life for a human! A cliche personified! Therefore I will not be reviving him." Phoebus growled scathingly. Just as curt as always. Even when he killed Roland. Grell snickered at Phoebus's wrinkled brow. "Careful now. I just might fall in love with you next." He trailed a finger to his nose, then to chin chin, "Those furrowed brows are so becoming."
Phoebus swatted his hand away. He had work to get done. "Oliver and I will meet you all back home." He promised Schneizel and Alliahnna. "We must finish our work here."
"Alright." Schneizel permitted. "We'll make preparations for Francois's funeral." He gazed somberly to Myers corpse. The body would only grow cold and stiff the longer it lingers. "For now, I will see to a coroner retrieves him."
"Thank you…" Phoebus sighed. He gazed sadly upon Myers once more, thinking of the potential that was wasted because of his death, then went to see Oliver and Isabella.
Ciel took note of Alliahnna and Sebastian's distant stares of Myers. As a visitor, he can only surmise what the young man meant to them. If anything at all when regarding Sebastian. Clearly, however, this was a personal matter for them. As he found it inappropriate to linger without offering words, he decided to distract himself. Besides, he was tired of the silent treatment between those two. This would be the perfect chance for them to break the ice.
"I think I will admire the Palace." Ciel decided. He smiled to Alliahnna, "You two appear to have some talking to do." Alliahnna and Sebastian arched a brow. "Other than that, I have always wanted to visit here. I shall return." Ciel excused himself, venturing to the opposite side of the atrium.
"That's right…" Alliahnna crossed her arms, tilting her head toward the ceiling, "Ciel's always wanted to visit the Palace of Justice. Something about wanting to see the exhibit of Judge Claude Frollo." She doesn't really remember. "I'm glad he finally got his wish."
"Perhaps an occupation as a Fairy Godmother would have suited you best." Sebastian teased.
"Do you know any Fairies?" She nsiggered back.
"I did. But she stopped returning my letters." Sebastian sighed with a false disappointment. "She was with another and broke my heart." He put a hand to his chest.
"Huh!" Alliahnna poked and prodded his chest. Sebastian amusedly allowed her to poke him. Her delightful poking sent chills down his skin. "You mean there isn't a bottomless black hole in there?"
"How amusing. My Master wondered the same thing not too long ago." Sebastian purred, lavishing in her conitnuous touches. "The term Twin never ceases to amaze me with the two of you."
Alliahnna snorted at his makeshift compliment. She rested to the wall beside him, folding her hands behind her back. Ciel lost himself in the artwork on the wall. It was so descriptive and vivid. As if he could touch the flames engulfing the falsely accused prisoners. The light in his eyes warmed her heart. It reminded her of when they were kids. Whenever Ciel saw something that utterly amazed him, he lit up like the stars. And when he was happy, Alliahnna was happy. To think, their time together was stunted greatly. All because a desire for revenge outweighed everything else.
"You know…" Sebastian raised a curious brow to her. She gaze dreadfully to Ciel, unable to recognize the boy relishing in the artwork, and in the answers a guide provided, "I'm scared." Sebastian was baffled by the admission. She shrank shamefully in her shoulders, blushing at the memory of her behavior at Trancy Manor. "Maybe that's the other reason I stopped him."
"My Lady?" Sebastian wasn't quite sure what she was talking about. But it seemed to be at the forefront of her troubles. Alliahnna faced Sebastian fully, hiding her somberness from the gleeful atmosphere. Her cheeks were flushed pink. She folded her hands behind her back, then nervously twisted as she fought to look Sebastian in the eyes and stare at the ground. "Is everything alright?"
"This...isn't too out of the blue…" She started, shyly meeting his gaze and his tie, "I mean...it might be for you…I've been pondering this for a while." She bit her tongue as she tripped over it. "It sort of came to me when Ciel and I were walking this morning."
"What did?" Sebastian pouted his lower lip, folding his arms confusedly. "You are not making sense."
Alliahnna sighed dismally, dropping her head defeatedly. She does sound like a stammering idiot. The one trait she definitely shares with Ciel is admitting when she was grievously wrong. Especially in regards to someone she values greatly. "My honor drove me to stop Ciel from killing Alois. I could not abide allowing someone else to pay for another's crime." The much is true, but not the whole truth. "But, deep down, I didn't want this to be over yet." She glanced to Ciel, lavishing in his childish exuberance of the exhibit. She wanted to prolong it for as long as she could. She then puffed her cheeks angrily towards Sebastian. "And knowing you're waiting to devour his soul infuriated me more." Sebastian chuckled at that. He can see where her sisterly instinct would kick in and cause her to be furious with him. "So...I said things...did things...and...I…" I was wrong to say them! That's what she should be saying. Be the adult for five more seconds and admit she made a wrong step. Instead she drooped miserably. "I must be the most perplexing person in your life."
"Oh indeed you are." Sebastian will not deny that. Between her and Ciel, the migraines grow worse whenever Alliahnna's moods skyrocket. However, he found her so adorable when she's angry. The way her cheeks swell like balloons. "You are the most perplexing and aggravating person I've ever been involved with." Sebastian tilted her chin with two fingers, bringing her glossy eyes to meet his warm smile. He caressed her cheek, lavishing in the soft feel of her skin and hair, "That enigmatic and vivacious persona is what I fell for." He brought on a blush to Alliahnna's cheeks. "My Lady...Alliahnna…" Her heart skipped a beat, "I am not so insensitive that I do not understand your reasonings behind your actions as of late. But at the same time, you are the one who urged me to expedite my collection of My Master's soul."
"That's right…" It was around the time they first encountered the house Trancy. Alliahnna just wanted to recover Ciel's soul and end this madness before she became too attached. Obviously that half of the mission failed. She sank, smiling derisively at herself, "I did say that...didn't I?" She touched where the flower petals once resided. The petals she had woven into her hair when agreeing to Claude and Sebastian's deal. The winner of the climactic duel would get Ciel. "Ugh...I really hate you right now…" Sebastian has an enraging talent for reminding Alliahnna of her duty to where she feels foolish for an inkling of abandonment.
"Perplexing to the last, aren't you?" Sebastian taunted.
"Isn't that...why you like me?" She playfully pouted.
"No." Sebastian wrapped one arm around her waist, drawing her in close, and cupping a hand to her cheek, "That is why I love you." Alliahnna went red as a cherry. Her eyes sparkling like diamonds. Sebastian leaned in cautiously, softly touching his lips to hers. She melted into the warmth of his kiss, letting her hands rest against his chest.
Ciel peeked at them from the corner of his eyes. He was pleased to see them make up. However...they could have done so when there wasn't a dead body in the middle of the floor.
"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE, MISSY!" Grell yanked Alliahnna off Sebastian by the hair, crashing his nose to hers. "HOW DARE YOU KISS BASSY IN FRONT OF ME! HAVE YOU NO SHAME?"
"Oh! You're still here?" Alliahnna blinked baffled.
"DON'T PLAY COY WITH ME!" Grell roared with lightning in his eyes and fire in his mouth. "I'VE BEEN HERE THE WHOLE TIME!" He raised vengeful fists, growling animally. "You knew so you stole yet another kiss from my Bassy!"
A vein popped in Alliahnna's head. A demonic aura flowed around her. "How many times must I say it, GRELL?!" She stomped on his foot, and yanked him to her height by his tie. "SEBASTIAN BELONGS TO ME!"
"I HEARD YOU TWO CALLED IT QUITS!"
"WELL YOU HEARD WRONG!"
"I DON'T THINK SO! SCHNEIZEL TOLD ME SO!"
"OH, HE DID?"
"YES, HE DID!" Sebastian and Ciel sighed dismally. Never a dull moment with these two.
"THEN HE LIED!"
"YOU'RE THE LIAR!"
"AND YOU'RE A WHORE!"
"TAKE THAT BACK!"
"NEVER!"
Well, at the very least, it'll be the museum to suffer if they break into a fight. The coroner needed to put a rush on it though. There might not be a body left when he gets there.
Not one of my best. Oh well. Serves me right for being gone so long. Next one will be better.
To be continued.