[ video ]

[painthellred]

[ The heavy patter of rain overpowers the feed's audio for a few moments, as Angelina stares into the frame with dazed crimson eyes - a color strikingly similar to the rain that streaks over her skin and stains her dress, once pristine and white. Reclined against an outer wall of the Tower Apartments, she doesn't seem to be phased by the fact that

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[Reaction] [1/idk]

[littlest_lord]

[It can't possibly be-]

[Reaction] [2/?]

[littlest_lord]

[It's a day from hell, it seems. Was he going mad? Things would be far easier if he were. Having been emotionally drained from breaking Elizabeth's heart doesn't seem to stop him from bringing up his foot and kicking the small table before him hard, knocking it over. Next goes his teacup, expensive china that had been set out by Claude for tea before bed. It makes a satisfying breaking sound as it hits the floor.

It's not fair. Hadn't he told Elizabeth as much? Hadn't he been told as much? Life wasn't fair, but this was just beyond cruel.

He wants to vomit, but he wont. Instead he throws a pillow, snatching up his NV from the floor before making his way out and into an empty hallway. He doesn't turn it on yet to reply. There's a terrible bitterness that's swelling inside.

Even though she hadn't passed while he'd been alive back home, it still didn't draw away from the fact his Aunt had died. Would she end up just like Mother too, here in this city?]

[3/3] [Video]

[littlest_lord]

[When the feed does come on, it's Ciel in his nightgown, sitting in an alcove in one of the corridors. He seems incredibly worn out, but he manages a slim, fragile smile, even if it doesn't last for very long.]

Madam Red. Claude Faustus, a butler of my household here will be coming to escort you to the manor shortly.

It's been some time, Madam.

[painthellred]

-- Ciel.

[ A breathless whisper before wide eyes. Whatever sort of place Siren's Port really is, she wouldn't have ever hoped to see him here. The boy may have witnessed the darker side of corruption within Queen Victoria's England, but never a place where the dead walked and its sky wept blood.

Regardless... Something about seeing his face. Something about knowing that she's been given a chance to hold him once again, it lifts the weight set upon her heart enough that she can she can afford another curl of the lips - a semblance of a grin. ]

You're far too good to me, you know.

[video]

[hairdecs]

[Finnian just stammers for a good few moments at what has appeared on the screen. He knew those that were dead could show up here. All the same... it was an especially surreal experience to see someone you had actually known when they were alive and breathing in front of you, alive and breathing once more. When he finally manages to respond, his voice is barely above a whisper.]

M... Madam...

[painthellred]

Ah--.

[ Her memory doesn't feel as sharp as it should, but she knows that's a face that she recognizes. One of Ciel's servants, the sprightly gardener. ]

Finnian... isn't it?

[hairdecs]

Y-yes! That's me!

[painthellred]

[ She spares a smile, however faint it is. ]

Well then. Hello, Finnian. You're well, I hope.

[painthellred]

Well, that isn't a question that one is often asked, is it?

[ Her head tilts off to the side just so, as she gives this man - a stranger, she deems - a good look. ]

Though, yes. You would be right.

[painthellred]

[ With a pause, her brow knits curiously. ]

How did you know about that? My connection to Ciel.

My name is Angelina Durless - better known as Madam Red. I'm Ciel's aunt.

[pushesupglasses]

You are here, as well, now?

[ William looks none too pleased with this. Perhaps it is a good thing Grell isn't around at the present time. ]

[painthellred]

You speak as though you know me, sir?

[ To that, a faint furrow of her brow. To her knowledge, they'd never been acquainted, and so his disgruntlement is not met with understanding. ]

[pushesupglasses]

Honestly, I should think so, considering the amount of times I had to input your name on various forms.

[ All that overtime due to Grell Sutcliff and his little games he liked to play. ]

[painthellred]

Forms? Concerning what, if I may ask?

[ A police officer, perhaps? Hm. ]

action, a little later.

[stabilimentum]

[The funeral had been beautiful--hauntingly beautiful--from what Claude could see of it while standing away from the church. He appreciated the statement of crimson rose petals by her nephew, at least, and thought they suited her sanguine history. Alois had wanted to attend the ceremony himself, and so Claude had brought him and lurked around outside, occasionally exchanging hateful looks with another demon.

Despite the bloody rain and its stains, Claude still recognizes Madam Red in her burial dress. Finding her was more difficult in general due to the weather dampening smells, but here he is: steadily approaching her along the wall, him dark and smooth as a shadow, his black umbrella held aloft.]

Good evening, Madam Red.
[Claude resembles Sebastian Michaelis at first glance, but not the second. The dragging velvet of his voice is deeper, too, even though there's something supernaturally similar about it. With his high-collared traveling coat, it isn't easy to see his pale face until he gets close enough--his expression is

[painthellred]

[ Angelina clutches the red gown she's carried closer to her breast, once hearing his voice. She'd hardly noticed the man's arrival, likely covered by heavy rainfall and the onset of night, and the greeting gave her a notable start.

Had he not introduced himself, she may have made the mistake of calling out the name that her nephew's former butler went by - barely missing the gold eyes and apathetic bend of his lips. ]

Ah... Yes, he'd mentioned your name.

[ Standing upright from her place against the wall, she steps forth to meet him. ]

I hope I wasn't too difficult to find, Mister Claude?

[stabilimentum]

[The umbrella is large enough to cover both of them entirely. Claude hasn't had enough time to study the unique properties of the red-tinted water, but he doesn't believe it to be fatal; however, there's no reason to take risks. Above them, the rapid pitter-patter of raindrops on canvas muffles his hmming while Claude looks at her and her over and into her, beyond her flesh. (It's a distinct sensation, like he's undressing her with his eyes but somehow it's more intimate than that.) Like him, Madam Red is supposed to be dead. At least her soul seems to be intact.

Finally, he places one hand on his chest and bows slightly from the waist up, his eyes closed for a moment.] A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady.

I'm admittedly familiar with the area, [he explains, gesturing vaguely. He eyes the nearest siren pole, since it'll be dark soon.] Every Newcomer passes by here at some point.

[Only now does he smile in the faintest, most meaningless way.]But to answer your earlier question: No, this is not Hell. --Shall we be

[painthellred]

[ Ann can't help but entwine her fingers tighter within the fabric of her party dress, held to her person with the desperate attempt to remain modest. The white of her dress is soaked through, the outline of undergarments and skin visible and highly inappropriate - and goodness, she would appreciate it if he's cease with that piercing stare. She send him a disapproving look that says as much, even if it is a tad inciting in the worst way. ]

Likewise. [ Passively said, with an acknowledging nod. Her gaze will follow his, noting the structure as something of importance.

Ah, but then she chuckles, as she can't resist. ]

I suppose a man like you would know best, hm? [ An approving shake of the head. ] Let us go.