- - Ciel Phantomhive -£- 008
Who: Ciel Phantomhive
Where: In his home in Espoir
Style: Third to start
Status: Open only to those who could conceivably be in his house.
It was as though he'd been held under water, or smothered in blankets, but now, the world and all his senses were returning. First an foremost, Ciel noticed that the inside of his mouth tasted foul, as though he hadn't brushed his teeth in weeks. Then, as he attempted to turn over in his bed, the aching through his whole body made him feel as though he'd been run over by a carriage and a good dozen horses, though not necessarily in that order. Sliding under crinkling sheets, Ciel groaned softly, pushing his face into his pillow. He didn't know what a hangover was, but he suspected this may have been what one felt like, even though he had no idea how he might have ended up in such a scenario. Clenching his eyes even more tightly shut, the young earl mustered the will to open them.
The room wasn't bright, but it felt as though his eyes had been practically assaulted, and he shut them again in reflex. But then, he paused. Slowly, he peeled one eye open again. He had seen something...
And then, he jumped. Completely awake down, Ciel backpedaled through the sheets, and nearly tumbled off the side of his bed. There, laying on the pillow beside where his head had just been, was a pumpkin. Not just a pumpkin, but a pumpkin with an absurd face carved into it. Breathing heavily, clutching the edge of the mattress, Ciel dared to look around the room.
They were everywhere. Pumpkins on the floor, pumpkins on the dresser, pumpkins on the sill. Pumpkins serving in place of things such as candle-holders, foot-stools, tables...
Ciel rubbed his eyes, blinked, and then looked again.
"....What in the--"
Where: In his home in Espoir
Style: Third to start
Status: Open only to those who could conceivably be in his house.
It was as though he'd been held under water, or smothered in blankets, but now, the world and all his senses were returning. First an foremost, Ciel noticed that the inside of his mouth tasted foul, as though he hadn't brushed his teeth in weeks. Then, as he attempted to turn over in his bed, the aching through his whole body made him feel as though he'd been run over by a carriage and a good dozen horses, though not necessarily in that order. Sliding under crinkling sheets, Ciel groaned softly, pushing his face into his pillow. He didn't know what a hangover was, but he suspected this may have been what one felt like, even though he had no idea how he might have ended up in such a scenario. Clenching his eyes even more tightly shut, the young earl mustered the will to open them.
The room wasn't bright, but it felt as though his eyes had been practically assaulted, and he shut them again in reflex. But then, he paused. Slowly, he peeled one eye open again. He had seen something...
And then, he jumped. Completely awake down, Ciel backpedaled through the sheets, and nearly tumbled off the side of his bed. There, laying on the pillow beside where his head had just been, was a pumpkin. Not just a pumpkin, but a pumpkin with an absurd face carved into it. Breathing heavily, clutching the edge of the mattress, Ciel dared to look around the room.
They were everywhere. Pumpkins on the floor, pumpkins on the dresser, pumpkins on the sill. Pumpkins serving in place of things such as candle-holders, foot-stools, tables...
Ciel rubbed his eyes, blinked, and then looked again.
"....What in the--"