Drabble Meme Challenge Thing Responses: Part One!
I'm finally getting around to the first batch of these. ^_^ I always find these kind of things a challenge because I have a hard time staying below 200 words. (Or below any word limit, really...)
Anyway, I hope they're enjoyable. There's more to come, so stay tuned!
For Dr. House house_onthehill:
Humility.
This was not the first time Sebastian had checked up on House and found him lounging, unperturbed by the butler’s presence, in the bath. When Sebastian attempted to excuse himself, House insisted there was nothing odd about sustaining their conversation.
“Shall I help you with your washing as well?” Sebastian asked, not bothering to conceal his derision. There was no point in pretenses when House already knew what he was.
“No thanks,” House said. He threaded his fingers together behind his head and looked the butler over. “So. Sucked out any souls lately?”
So horribly uncouth. Sebastian suppressed a sigh.
“No.” He was bored and annoyed and sounded it. And of course, House heard it.
“That’s the problem with you, Sebastian. You’re a sore loser. But you’re also one of the most pitiful creatures in the known universe. Maybe you need to learn a little humility, eh? Hold on, I’m coming out.”
Sebastian had already spread the towel and demurely averted his eyes. He did not think he was the one who needed the lesson in humility.
Shell.
What good was a human that couldn’t die? No good at all. Sebastian’s dislike of House was closely related to his dislike of vampires: humans weren’t meant to sustain for centuries. They became too broody, or too boring, depending on the psyche.
“More Earl Grey, Sebastian.”
But at least there was no temptation with vampires. Soulless shells did not appeal to him in the slightest, and they smelled like decay. House still possessed a soul, although it was locked tight within him. Even peeling open his body with the utmost case wouldn’t get it out.
“And make me a sandwich while you’re at it.”
If Sebastian followed his own aesthetics as a butler, the guests should be expected to do the same, as humans. He would accommodate very guest to the high standard of Phantomhive hospitality, and they would at least be available for devouring, even if he would never do it.
“You seen my pills?”
With House, the aesthetics were all wrong.
It was cheating. And what was the fun of playing with cheaters?
“Hand me my cane, will you?”
A curt nod, a polite smile, and, ultimately, compliance. No one said service was an easy industry.
For Agent Cho agent_k_cho:
Superstition.
Sebastian stood outside the doorway, which Cho blocked with his body. Arms crossed, he gave Sebastian a stoic glare.
“Have I done something to offend you, sir?” He was only there to serve coffee.
Cho did not move. “Vampires can’t enter a residence unless someone invites them in.”
Sebastian was amused. “I am not a vampire, Agent Cho.”
“How come you aren’t coming in?”
“Because you are in my way.”
Cho’s expression remained icy. He stepped aside.
Sebastian entered. His professional smile turned smug as he bypassed Cho and set down the tray. “Milk or sugar in your coffee, sir?”
Cho ignored his question. “One debunked myth means nothing. I’ve got garlic.”
“I cook with garlic almost daily, Agent Cho,” Sebastian said. He prepared Cho’s coffee from memory and offered it to him. “I also have a reflection, if you were inclined to ask.”
Cho accepted the proffered cup, although he sipped from it with suspicion. “There’s something off about you. I was sure it was vampirism. Met a witch once. Know anything about witches?”
“Only that their weak human magic is barely a step above parlour tricks.”
Cho stared. Sebastian smiled and offered him a scone.
Poison.
The bottle of champagne had been sent to CBI headquarters as a thank you from a victim’s family. Sebastian found it while tidying up and put it on Cho’s desk. At this late hour, Cho was the only agent still in the office; the others had gone home for the night.
Puzzled, Cho asked, “Why give this to me?”
“You are the only one here to enjoy it,” Sebastian said. “I could put it on ice and serve it tomorrow.”
“Nah. I’ll have it now. Pour yourself one too.”
Sebastian was growing used to guests who expected him to dine with them. He popped the bottle and poured two glasses. He sampled first; the tangy taste of poison reached his tongue. Oh dear, this wouldn’t do at all.
The glass was an inch from Cho’s lips. Sebastian leapt over and snatched away it with inhuman speed.
“Hey! What’s wrong with you?”
Sebastian smiled apologetically. “I couldn’t possibly allow you to drink this champagne, sir. It has gone flat.”
His odd behaviour did nothing to improve his relations with Cho, but it couldn’t be helped. Guests were not to die on his watch unless he was specifically ordered to let them.
For Soubi pinnd_buttrfly:
Diligence.
Soubi knelt on the floor, pouring over his painting. Sebastian had appeared beside him minutes earlier with a tea tray, but Soubi had not acknowledged his presence. So Sebastian stood and waited, watching the young man work.
At last, Soubi spoke. “You can leave.”
“But I have not offered you afternoon tea,” Sebastian countered lightly.
“I’m busy. I don’t want it. Leave.”
“The work is lovely, but surely you could use a break.” It was, too. The butterflies seemed moments from taking flight off the canvas.
“Why do you care?” Soubi asked. He still hadn’t looked up.
“I don’t. It’s simply my job to tend to the needs of my guests. You have been working uninterrupted for hours. You should, logically, require a rest.” Sebastian smiled. “You are only human.”
Soubi raised his head, his jaw set with irritation. “You don’t know anything about me or what I need. Now go away.”
“As you wish, sir.” By the door, Sebastian stopped and glanced back at Soubi over his shoulder. “On the contrary, I know much more about you than you think. You are quite transparent in everything you do.”
Before Soubi could react, he was gone.
Sight.
Soubi took a drag on his cigarette. “Why do you have red eyes?”
Sebastian had a simple answer. “I do not know. They have always been this way. Why do you wear glasses?”
He could tell the answer was not as easy in Soubi’s case. The willowy young man hesitated, attempted to mask it with contempt, and exhaled smoke into the slight breeze that tugged at the ends of their hair. “I need them.”
“Yet you wear them so low on your nose,” Sebastian pointed out. He offered an ashtray.
That earned him a fierce glare. “What are you trying to say?” Soubi refused the ashtray, flicking ash onto the ground instead.
“Nothing,” Sebastian replied. The truth was clear enough to him. “Does your master wear glasses as well?” he inquired, his tone light.
Ah, there was the flash of rage, of indignation. Soubi tossed the cigarette on the ground and stormed back into the art building. What a peculiar young man. They were quite similar and yet so different. Sebastian was bound to another because he enjoyed it. Soubi simply didn’t know another way to live.
Anyway, I hope they're enjoyable. There's more to come, so stay tuned!
For Dr. House house_onthehill:
Humility.
This was not the first time Sebastian had checked up on House and found him lounging, unperturbed by the butler’s presence, in the bath. When Sebastian attempted to excuse himself, House insisted there was nothing odd about sustaining their conversation.
“Shall I help you with your washing as well?” Sebastian asked, not bothering to conceal his derision. There was no point in pretenses when House already knew what he was.
“No thanks,” House said. He threaded his fingers together behind his head and looked the butler over. “So. Sucked out any souls lately?”
So horribly uncouth. Sebastian suppressed a sigh.
“No.” He was bored and annoyed and sounded it. And of course, House heard it.
“That’s the problem with you, Sebastian. You’re a sore loser. But you’re also one of the most pitiful creatures in the known universe. Maybe you need to learn a little humility, eh? Hold on, I’m coming out.”
Sebastian had already spread the towel and demurely averted his eyes. He did not think he was the one who needed the lesson in humility.
Shell.
What good was a human that couldn’t die? No good at all. Sebastian’s dislike of House was closely related to his dislike of vampires: humans weren’t meant to sustain for centuries. They became too broody, or too boring, depending on the psyche.
“More Earl Grey, Sebastian.”
But at least there was no temptation with vampires. Soulless shells did not appeal to him in the slightest, and they smelled like decay. House still possessed a soul, although it was locked tight within him. Even peeling open his body with the utmost case wouldn’t get it out.
“And make me a sandwich while you’re at it.”
If Sebastian followed his own aesthetics as a butler, the guests should be expected to do the same, as humans. He would accommodate very guest to the high standard of Phantomhive hospitality, and they would at least be available for devouring, even if he would never do it.
“You seen my pills?”
With House, the aesthetics were all wrong.
It was cheating. And what was the fun of playing with cheaters?
“Hand me my cane, will you?”
A curt nod, a polite smile, and, ultimately, compliance. No one said service was an easy industry.
For Agent Cho agent_k_cho:
Superstition.
Sebastian stood outside the doorway, which Cho blocked with his body. Arms crossed, he gave Sebastian a stoic glare.
“Have I done something to offend you, sir?” He was only there to serve coffee.
Cho did not move. “Vampires can’t enter a residence unless someone invites them in.”
Sebastian was amused. “I am not a vampire, Agent Cho.”
“How come you aren’t coming in?”
“Because you are in my way.”
Cho’s expression remained icy. He stepped aside.
Sebastian entered. His professional smile turned smug as he bypassed Cho and set down the tray. “Milk or sugar in your coffee, sir?”
Cho ignored his question. “One debunked myth means nothing. I’ve got garlic.”
“I cook with garlic almost daily, Agent Cho,” Sebastian said. He prepared Cho’s coffee from memory and offered it to him. “I also have a reflection, if you were inclined to ask.”
Cho accepted the proffered cup, although he sipped from it with suspicion. “There’s something off about you. I was sure it was vampirism. Met a witch once. Know anything about witches?”
“Only that their weak human magic is barely a step above parlour tricks.”
Cho stared. Sebastian smiled and offered him a scone.
Poison.
The bottle of champagne had been sent to CBI headquarters as a thank you from a victim’s family. Sebastian found it while tidying up and put it on Cho’s desk. At this late hour, Cho was the only agent still in the office; the others had gone home for the night.
Puzzled, Cho asked, “Why give this to me?”
“You are the only one here to enjoy it,” Sebastian said. “I could put it on ice and serve it tomorrow.”
“Nah. I’ll have it now. Pour yourself one too.”
Sebastian was growing used to guests who expected him to dine with them. He popped the bottle and poured two glasses. He sampled first; the tangy taste of poison reached his tongue. Oh dear, this wouldn’t do at all.
The glass was an inch from Cho’s lips. Sebastian leapt over and snatched away it with inhuman speed.
“Hey! What’s wrong with you?”
Sebastian smiled apologetically. “I couldn’t possibly allow you to drink this champagne, sir. It has gone flat.”
His odd behaviour did nothing to improve his relations with Cho, but it couldn’t be helped. Guests were not to die on his watch unless he was specifically ordered to let them.
For Soubi pinnd_buttrfly:
Diligence.
Soubi knelt on the floor, pouring over his painting. Sebastian had appeared beside him minutes earlier with a tea tray, but Soubi had not acknowledged his presence. So Sebastian stood and waited, watching the young man work.
At last, Soubi spoke. “You can leave.”
“But I have not offered you afternoon tea,” Sebastian countered lightly.
“I’m busy. I don’t want it. Leave.”
“The work is lovely, but surely you could use a break.” It was, too. The butterflies seemed moments from taking flight off the canvas.
“Why do you care?” Soubi asked. He still hadn’t looked up.
“I don’t. It’s simply my job to tend to the needs of my guests. You have been working uninterrupted for hours. You should, logically, require a rest.” Sebastian smiled. “You are only human.”
Soubi raised his head, his jaw set with irritation. “You don’t know anything about me or what I need. Now go away.”
“As you wish, sir.” By the door, Sebastian stopped and glanced back at Soubi over his shoulder. “On the contrary, I know much more about you than you think. You are quite transparent in everything you do.”
Before Soubi could react, he was gone.
Sight.
Soubi took a drag on his cigarette. “Why do you have red eyes?”
Sebastian had a simple answer. “I do not know. They have always been this way. Why do you wear glasses?”
He could tell the answer was not as easy in Soubi’s case. The willowy young man hesitated, attempted to mask it with contempt, and exhaled smoke into the slight breeze that tugged at the ends of their hair. “I need them.”
“Yet you wear them so low on your nose,” Sebastian pointed out. He offered an ashtray.
That earned him a fierce glare. “What are you trying to say?” Soubi refused the ashtray, flicking ash onto the ground instead.
“Nothing,” Sebastian replied. The truth was clear enough to him. “Does your master wear glasses as well?” he inquired, his tone light.
Ah, there was the flash of rage, of indignation. Soubi tossed the cigarette on the ground and stormed back into the art building. What a peculiar young man. They were quite similar and yet so different. Sebastian was bound to another because he enjoyed it. Soubi simply didn’t know another way to live.