a scandal in 1889 | risk of discovery | no aphro
December 14, 1889. Ciel, Earl Phantomhive, turns 14 years old. You’ve been invited to his birthday party-along with half of London’s upper crust. It’s rumored that the earl hates his birthday; and why shouldn’t he, given that it’s common knowledge that his parents were killed and his home burned down on this day exactly four years ago? This party isn’t even hosted by him, but rather by his uncle and aunt, the Marquess and Marchioness Middleford, parents of his fiancée, Elizabeth. It’s being held at their townhouse in London. It was rumored that the earl himself nearly did not attend, so opposed was he to the idea-but there he was tonight, smiling and greeting guests and accepting birthday wishes as if the rumor mill had never turned to the contrary at all.
‘Good thing he did, too,’ say the whisperers and gossipers, ‘the Middlefords have done everything they can for that boy, and he’d best be grateful!’
In fact, you’re more aware of his presence than most, at the moment. You’ve got the young Earl Phantomhive backed against a wall in a darkened hallway just outside the ballroom. The sounds from the party are background noise; a string quartet playing waltzes, the tinkling of crystal glasses and chinaware, the murmur of polite conversation, and the occasional peal of laugher. Fake, superficial, a glossy veneer to mask just how much the majority of the people in that room loathe one another.
“Well,” the boy hisses impatiently, “do you want me or not?” This is what’s real-the heat of your bodies pressed together, the way he grinds against your thigh through his well-tailored knee-length trousers. “If you are going to be so hesitant, I am sure I can find another man in this cesspool of sin called ‘polite society’ who would be willing and eager to entertain me.” He's looking at you like you're the dirt under his heel; like you're worth nothing beyond how he can use you. But he’s hard already, despite his threats. He’s young, even if he doesn’t act it. “Oh, and if you so much as attempt to make me suck your cock, I will make a fuss-and as close as we are to the ballroom, I do not think it would be wise to risk that.” Even in the dim light you can make out the curve of his lips as he smirks, single big blue eye glinting. He's assured that he has the power here. His thin fingers dig into your back through your clothing where he has his hands on your waist. He’s dangerous, and he knows it. If the two of you are caught, there will be serious consequences. This is illegal, after all-not so much because of his age, but because of his sex. Perhaps the rumors were true. No, not those rumors, the other ones-they call Earl Phantomhive ‘the evil nobleman.’ They say he’s involved in some very shady underground business. Yet still, no one dares challenge or cross him, despite the fact that he’s so young.
Maybe you’re finally figuring out why-that is, if you don’t already know.
[ooc: Sorry for the second-person. I just thought it fit well for the introduction. My responses will be third-person, I assure you. So. Your character can either know Ciel-castmates, anyone? or perhaps he’s just been introduced to them before at other social events-or be a complete stranger who he’s just met at tonight’s party. They can be another noble, or even a servant, or just about anyone else you can imagine. Anyway, Ciel is just turning 14 here, obviously, so if age is a thing for you, I’d keep keep away. Or, uh, don’t keep away if age is a good thing for you. I’m looking for males only this time around. Sorry, ladies! If you feel like he's being too cocky, feel free to put him in his place--or at least, try to. Or if you're the sort who enjoys his domineering attitude, all the better. No death, gore, or bathroom kinks. Otherwise, go for it.]
‘Good thing he did, too,’ say the whisperers and gossipers, ‘the Middlefords have done everything they can for that boy, and he’d best be grateful!’
In fact, you’re more aware of his presence than most, at the moment. You’ve got the young Earl Phantomhive backed against a wall in a darkened hallway just outside the ballroom. The sounds from the party are background noise; a string quartet playing waltzes, the tinkling of crystal glasses and chinaware, the murmur of polite conversation, and the occasional peal of laugher. Fake, superficial, a glossy veneer to mask just how much the majority of the people in that room loathe one another.
“Well,” the boy hisses impatiently, “do you want me or not?” This is what’s real-the heat of your bodies pressed together, the way he grinds against your thigh through his well-tailored knee-length trousers. “If you are going to be so hesitant, I am sure I can find another man in this cesspool of sin called ‘polite society’ who would be willing and eager to entertain me.” He's looking at you like you're the dirt under his heel; like you're worth nothing beyond how he can use you. But he’s hard already, despite his threats. He’s young, even if he doesn’t act it. “Oh, and if you so much as attempt to make me suck your cock, I will make a fuss-and as close as we are to the ballroom, I do not think it would be wise to risk that.” Even in the dim light you can make out the curve of his lips as he smirks, single big blue eye glinting. He's assured that he has the power here. His thin fingers dig into your back through your clothing where he has his hands on your waist. He’s dangerous, and he knows it. If the two of you are caught, there will be serious consequences. This is illegal, after all-not so much because of his age, but because of his sex. Perhaps the rumors were true. No, not those rumors, the other ones-they call Earl Phantomhive ‘the evil nobleman.’ They say he’s involved in some very shady underground business. Yet still, no one dares challenge or cross him, despite the fact that he’s so young.
Maybe you’re finally figuring out why-that is, if you don’t already know.
[ooc: Sorry for the second-person. I just thought it fit well for the introduction. My responses will be third-person, I assure you. So. Your character can either know Ciel-castmates, anyone? or perhaps he’s just been introduced to them before at other social events-or be a complete stranger who he’s just met at tonight’s party. They can be another noble, or even a servant, or just about anyone else you can imagine. Anyway, Ciel is just turning 14 here, obviously, so if age is a thing for you, I’d keep keep away. Or, uh, don’t keep away if age is a good thing for you. I’m looking for males only this time around. Sorry, ladies! If you feel like he's being too cocky, feel free to put him in his place--or at least, try to. Or if you're the sort who enjoys his domineering attitude, all the better. No death, gore, or bathroom kinks. Otherwise, go for it.]