Drabble Meme Challenge Thing Responses: Part Two!
Second batch served right up. I'll probably get to the last batch next Saturday, since I've been really busy with schoolwork during the week.
Aaaand... I went way over the word limit with a couple of these. The characters just wouldn't stop talking. >.< I decided to just let it be what it is instead of trying to jam everything into 200 words.
For Radical Edward radical_edward0 (Context: badfic_manor):
Treasure.
“Treasure! Edward has found treasure!”
Sebastian raised his head from the area of the game room he was tidying. “Treasure” was a chess set. Edward rolled forward, then settled on the floor with the game.
“Pardon me,” Sebastian said, “but it seems you have no opponent.”
“That’s okay! Edward will play with herself! Chess is best when played on the chest!”
She flopped over backward and put the chess board on her upper torso. For all her oddness, she placed the pieces expertly. Sebastian watched her play a few moves, spinning the board around each time the turn changed. She was a formidable player.
“You know, my young master is quite a chess player.”
“Huh?” Edward craned her head backward to look at him. “He is?”
“Yes. He is about your age, as well.”
“Young master will play with Edward?”
“If he arrives at the manor, I’m sure he will.”
“YAY! Edward will have a friend! An adversary!”
Sebastian smirked and returned to the dusting. He took delight in imagining how furious Ciel would be, forced on a play date with an idiot savant. Especially since it was likely she would win.
Spirit.
It could easily be said that Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky IV had spirit. That was the correct term for a lively child with a disposition borderlining on impishness. (There were other terms for her as well - feebled-minded, perhaps, if one considered her outward persona, although Sebastian knew inside there was a frightfully intelligent being.)
There was a bit of an irony to it. For while Miss Edward possessed quite a spirit, Sebastian had no interest whatsoever in devouring it.
She was, as children went, completely carefree. Not since the Lady Elizabeth had Sebastian seen a girl so uncomplicated emotionally. Even more so than Elizabeth, because Sebastian knew that girl worried quite a bit for Ciel. (And quite rightly, too.)
“Sebastian! Crustacean! Frustration!”
This was a normal greeting for Edward, and it was usually right when Sebastian was in the middle of a particularly important chore. If the blandness of her soul vaguely annoyed him, the sight of her blocking his way while standing on her head multiplied that tenfold.
No, he preferred much more complicated children. Sebastian took comfort in the knowledge that Ciel would completely abhor her.
He did hope they would meet soon.
For Mello worldsrunnerup (Context: badfic_manor):
Cheeky.
“You’re a cheeky bastard, you know that?”
This had been the last true communication between Mello and Sebastian, and it amused Sebastian quite a bit. Mainly because the term was wholly inaccurate: he had never been anything but respectful to the surly young detective. Perhaps a bit vague, but the irritation he had caused was due to Mello’s impatience, not Sebastian’s overall behaviour.
He knew the boy didn’t trust him, but Sebastian had never given him a reason not to. He found such a thing interesting. It pointed to something in Mello’s past, perhaps experience with others of Sebastian’s kind. A pity, really. Other demons were so barbaric.
Perhaps that was why he wore that rosary. Or perhaps there was much he didn’t know. Mello’s soul was one of the most appetizing ones Sebastian had smelled during their imprisonment, and a reliance on religious faith usually meant it had been challenged quite forcefully in the past.
Perhaps the mystery regarding Mello would reveal its own answers, or perhaps it wouldn’t. Whatever stood to transpire, Sebastian remained stalwart as ever. He would always serve with a smile - a smile that hid some very sharp teeth.
Hero.
Mello leaned against the door to L’s room, irate. “What are you doing?”
Sebastian gave his most professional smile. “Serving dinner.”
“Not to him, you’re not.” Mello caressed the handle of his gun with his thumb, keeping his eyes on Sebastian.
Sebastian held the tray of food steady in one hand. “Mr. Ryuzaki rarely takes supper in the dining room.”
“That’s because he’s not eating anything made by the likes of you.”
Sebastian tilted his head. “You care for him, don’t you?”
“Shut up.”
“I wonder why that is.”
Mello spat, “I said shut up, shinigami!”
The word’s implication silenced Sebastian. Mello’s hand tightened on the gun, glaring so hard his eye twitched, waiting for admittance, a confession.
Sebastian chuckled, quiet; menacing. “Oh, I’m disappointed in you, Detective. You’re not even close.”
Mello growled and raised the gun. “How about I pump you full of lead and then we’ll see how close I am?”
“Then you would have to explain to Mr. Ryuzaki why you murdered a butler who was only trying to bring him dinner.”
It was a bluff, of course. No amount of human bullets would kill Sebastian. But it was the implied disappointment the ploy hinged on, which might keep Mello from pulling the trigger.
And it did. Mello shoved the gun back in its holster. “Show me the damn food.”
Sebastian lifted the cover off the tray. A fine roast chicken, with sides of greens and potatoes.
“Ryuzaki won’t eat that,” Mello snapped. “Take it away.”
“As you wish, sir. You know him better than I.”
“Damn right I do,” Mello mumbled as Sebastian retreated. “And it’s staying that way.”
How interesting humans could be, time and time again.
For Naomi Misora ladyluckless13:
Road Trip.
Misora exited the shop she had ducked into and caught a tall man in extremely formal attire staring at her motorcycle. “Uh. Hello?”
The man straightened and smiled. “Ah, please forgive me. It’s just that your vehicle is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Reminiscent of a bicycle, but with an engine attached. Almost like a personal train, but without tracks.”
Misora stared. There was some part of her that wasn’t surprised; weirdos just seemed to follow her everywhere these days. “Um. Thanks. You’ve never seen a motorcycle?”
“Oh, is that its name?” The man seemed amused. “No, I’m afraid technology has a way of advancing while I’m not looking.”
“Uh huh.” Misora resisted the urge to ask for some identification. “Do you need … help, or anything?” A call to the mental ward didn’t seem like a bad idea. But maybe she was just being paranoid after that whole business with Rue Ryuzaki.
“Not at all,” said the man. “In fact, I’ve detained you from your ride for too long.” He gave her a bow with his hand tucked against his torso. “Do have a good day.”
A polite, chivalrous man made her suspicious. What was the world coming to?
Endings.
Misora stood on the pier, ready to throw her engagement ring into the ocean.
“Are you certain that’s a good idea?”
She whirled around, ready to kick the offending intruder, and her surprise almost sent her stumbling off the pier herself. It was the polite man from earlier, in the long coattails. “U-uh! Who are you? What are you doing here?”
“Ah. My apologies. I’m certain this must look strange to you. I recognized you on the boardwalk and you seemed upset. That is all.” He approached, smiling. “Please, call me Sebastian.”
Misora regarded him warily. But again, there was nothing outwardly threatening about him. “Misora. Naomi Misora.”
“Miss Misora, it is a pleasure.” He looked her over. “Have you been crying?”
“N-no!” She turned away from him, ashamed this stranger had happened upon such a private moment. “I was just… thinking of ending things. With my fiancé.”
“I see. That is quite a lot to throw away.”
“It is.” Misora sighed. “Sometimes I feel like it’s a matter of loyalty, you know? And obligation. Not really love.”
“Oh, I’ve always considered loyalty and obligation to be stronger.”
“You have?” Misora hadn’t been expecting to hear that.
“Yes. You see, I am a butler, and no matter what, I have vowed to be with my master until the very end.”
Misora blinked. “The very end of what?”
“His life.” Sebastian smiled.
There was something chilling about the way he said it, or maybe the way he smiled while he said it. “That is not so different from marriage, is it?” Sebastian asked. “It is my duty.”
“I-I guess…”
“But forgive me, I’ve expressed far too much of my own opinion. The choice, of course, is yours.”
Misora fell silent for several minutes. She watched the sun start to set over the water, lost in her own thoughts. She turned back to thank Sebastian for his input - and found, much to her surprise, that she was alone.
Aaaand... I went way over the word limit with a couple of these. The characters just wouldn't stop talking. >.< I decided to just let it be what it is instead of trying to jam everything into 200 words.
For Radical Edward radical_edward0 (Context: badfic_manor):
Treasure.
“Treasure! Edward has found treasure!”
Sebastian raised his head from the area of the game room he was tidying. “Treasure” was a chess set. Edward rolled forward, then settled on the floor with the game.
“Pardon me,” Sebastian said, “but it seems you have no opponent.”
“That’s okay! Edward will play with herself! Chess is best when played on the chest!”
She flopped over backward and put the chess board on her upper torso. For all her oddness, she placed the pieces expertly. Sebastian watched her play a few moves, spinning the board around each time the turn changed. She was a formidable player.
“You know, my young master is quite a chess player.”
“Huh?” Edward craned her head backward to look at him. “He is?”
“Yes. He is about your age, as well.”
“Young master will play with Edward?”
“If he arrives at the manor, I’m sure he will.”
“YAY! Edward will have a friend! An adversary!”
Sebastian smirked and returned to the dusting. He took delight in imagining how furious Ciel would be, forced on a play date with an idiot savant. Especially since it was likely she would win.
Spirit.
It could easily be said that Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky IV had spirit. That was the correct term for a lively child with a disposition borderlining on impishness. (There were other terms for her as well - feebled-minded, perhaps, if one considered her outward persona, although Sebastian knew inside there was a frightfully intelligent being.)
There was a bit of an irony to it. For while Miss Edward possessed quite a spirit, Sebastian had no interest whatsoever in devouring it.
She was, as children went, completely carefree. Not since the Lady Elizabeth had Sebastian seen a girl so uncomplicated emotionally. Even more so than Elizabeth, because Sebastian knew that girl worried quite a bit for Ciel. (And quite rightly, too.)
“Sebastian! Crustacean! Frustration!”
This was a normal greeting for Edward, and it was usually right when Sebastian was in the middle of a particularly important chore. If the blandness of her soul vaguely annoyed him, the sight of her blocking his way while standing on her head multiplied that tenfold.
No, he preferred much more complicated children. Sebastian took comfort in the knowledge that Ciel would completely abhor her.
He did hope they would meet soon.
For Mello worldsrunnerup (Context: badfic_manor):
Cheeky.
“You’re a cheeky bastard, you know that?”
This had been the last true communication between Mello and Sebastian, and it amused Sebastian quite a bit. Mainly because the term was wholly inaccurate: he had never been anything but respectful to the surly young detective. Perhaps a bit vague, but the irritation he had caused was due to Mello’s impatience, not Sebastian’s overall behaviour.
He knew the boy didn’t trust him, but Sebastian had never given him a reason not to. He found such a thing interesting. It pointed to something in Mello’s past, perhaps experience with others of Sebastian’s kind. A pity, really. Other demons were so barbaric.
Perhaps that was why he wore that rosary. Or perhaps there was much he didn’t know. Mello’s soul was one of the most appetizing ones Sebastian had smelled during their imprisonment, and a reliance on religious faith usually meant it had been challenged quite forcefully in the past.
Perhaps the mystery regarding Mello would reveal its own answers, or perhaps it wouldn’t. Whatever stood to transpire, Sebastian remained stalwart as ever. He would always serve with a smile - a smile that hid some very sharp teeth.
Hero.
Mello leaned against the door to L’s room, irate. “What are you doing?”
Sebastian gave his most professional smile. “Serving dinner.”
“Not to him, you’re not.” Mello caressed the handle of his gun with his thumb, keeping his eyes on Sebastian.
Sebastian held the tray of food steady in one hand. “Mr. Ryuzaki rarely takes supper in the dining room.”
“That’s because he’s not eating anything made by the likes of you.”
Sebastian tilted his head. “You care for him, don’t you?”
“Shut up.”
“I wonder why that is.”
Mello spat, “I said shut up, shinigami!”
The word’s implication silenced Sebastian. Mello’s hand tightened on the gun, glaring so hard his eye twitched, waiting for admittance, a confession.
Sebastian chuckled, quiet; menacing. “Oh, I’m disappointed in you, Detective. You’re not even close.”
Mello growled and raised the gun. “How about I pump you full of lead and then we’ll see how close I am?”
“Then you would have to explain to Mr. Ryuzaki why you murdered a butler who was only trying to bring him dinner.”
It was a bluff, of course. No amount of human bullets would kill Sebastian. But it was the implied disappointment the ploy hinged on, which might keep Mello from pulling the trigger.
And it did. Mello shoved the gun back in its holster. “Show me the damn food.”
Sebastian lifted the cover off the tray. A fine roast chicken, with sides of greens and potatoes.
“Ryuzaki won’t eat that,” Mello snapped. “Take it away.”
“As you wish, sir. You know him better than I.”
“Damn right I do,” Mello mumbled as Sebastian retreated. “And it’s staying that way.”
How interesting humans could be, time and time again.
For Naomi Misora ladyluckless13:
Road Trip.
Misora exited the shop she had ducked into and caught a tall man in extremely formal attire staring at her motorcycle. “Uh. Hello?”
The man straightened and smiled. “Ah, please forgive me. It’s just that your vehicle is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Reminiscent of a bicycle, but with an engine attached. Almost like a personal train, but without tracks.”
Misora stared. There was some part of her that wasn’t surprised; weirdos just seemed to follow her everywhere these days. “Um. Thanks. You’ve never seen a motorcycle?”
“Oh, is that its name?” The man seemed amused. “No, I’m afraid technology has a way of advancing while I’m not looking.”
“Uh huh.” Misora resisted the urge to ask for some identification. “Do you need … help, or anything?” A call to the mental ward didn’t seem like a bad idea. But maybe she was just being paranoid after that whole business with Rue Ryuzaki.
“Not at all,” said the man. “In fact, I’ve detained you from your ride for too long.” He gave her a bow with his hand tucked against his torso. “Do have a good day.”
A polite, chivalrous man made her suspicious. What was the world coming to?
Endings.
Misora stood on the pier, ready to throw her engagement ring into the ocean.
“Are you certain that’s a good idea?”
She whirled around, ready to kick the offending intruder, and her surprise almost sent her stumbling off the pier herself. It was the polite man from earlier, in the long coattails. “U-uh! Who are you? What are you doing here?”
“Ah. My apologies. I’m certain this must look strange to you. I recognized you on the boardwalk and you seemed upset. That is all.” He approached, smiling. “Please, call me Sebastian.”
Misora regarded him warily. But again, there was nothing outwardly threatening about him. “Misora. Naomi Misora.”
“Miss Misora, it is a pleasure.” He looked her over. “Have you been crying?”
“N-no!” She turned away from him, ashamed this stranger had happened upon such a private moment. “I was just… thinking of ending things. With my fiancé.”
“I see. That is quite a lot to throw away.”
“It is.” Misora sighed. “Sometimes I feel like it’s a matter of loyalty, you know? And obligation. Not really love.”
“Oh, I’ve always considered loyalty and obligation to be stronger.”
“You have?” Misora hadn’t been expecting to hear that.
“Yes. You see, I am a butler, and no matter what, I have vowed to be with my master until the very end.”
Misora blinked. “The very end of what?”
“His life.” Sebastian smiled.
There was something chilling about the way he said it, or maybe the way he smiled while he said it. “That is not so different from marriage, is it?” Sebastian asked. “It is my duty.”
“I-I guess…”
“But forgive me, I’ve expressed far too much of my own opinion. The choice, of course, is yours.”
Misora fell silent for several minutes. She watched the sun start to set over the water, lost in her own thoughts. She turned back to thank Sebastian for his input - and found, much to her surprise, that she was alone.