#argentimortem

      ❛  FORGIVE   MY   PRYING,    SIR. ❜        slender   hands   come   together   in   a   show   of   respect   &   agni   bows   briefly.    the   undertaker’s   unwillingness   to   divulge   only   stokes   the   fire   of   fascination   burning   in   his   chest,    but   the   khansama   deigns   to   hold   his   curious   tongue.   ( for   pursuing   it   too   fervently   would   be   improper. )

Silently Serene Starters Nonverbal Edition

[Comb] - Running their fingers through their hair.

         Absentminded, the footman appears to be busy with the usual everyday tasks of the Phantomhive manor, currently having been assigned to polishing the silverware for dinner.

         However, he is quickly snapped back to his senses when he feels a pair of fingers and disturbingly long nails pass through the back of his hair. A shiver travels down his spine, and his hand instantly shoots up to cover the touched area as he jumps away in a panic, the fork previously in his hand now crashing down atop the other utensils.

         It happened so fast that even his little companions were unable to warn him of a presence in time! 

“I suppose it rather depends on what you define as ‘killed’, but there have been a number of occasions where I sustained more harm than anticipated. I made one such miscalculation recently with a reaper. In the right hands, their weaponry is devastating to our kind because of the irritating extra-dimensional element. But I cannot deny, the reaper in possession of that scythe wielded it with impressive grace.”

“Honestly. How long can it take a bloody demon to complete a task and return to its master.” A huff of frustration exited pallid lips as the young Phantomhive exercised his irate mood down a less trafficked street in wait for his servant to return. His carriage was not to arrive for another hour thus having nothing to bide his time with. Pulling his ribboned top hat forward, he stopped near an entrance to an alley to lean against bricks with his arms crossed for a breath. He was the observative type, but most times when dwelling on his own thoughts did he let his guard down.

The Earl had stopped not far from the mortician’s lair he would call only to be met with that familiar voice he knew too well. What a dreadful way to dampen his evening further. His temper was as short as his patience and he wanted no interaction with the funeral director. He had been startled just slightly, but attempted to resume his stoic demeanor. “And what are you to tell me where to be? Undertaker. Why do you happen to be strolling about rather than resting in one of those confinements of yours.”

    ❛  TO   SMILE,    even   when   you   are   surrounded   by   death   ⁠—   i   admire   such   strength.  ❜

Send me ✔ and I will bold my preferences for your muse!

My muse(s): Sneek

Do I know your muse(s): yes | no | a little | tell me about your muse

Setting: our verse | my verse | your verse | modern | alternate universe | other

Pre-established relationships? yes | no | depends on the relationship

Possible relationships: friends | classmate | co-worker | roommate | family, real or adopted | dating or blind date | married | friends with benefits | unrequited love | lending a hand | teacher - student | rivals | allies | partner-in-crime | enemies | protecter - guarded | business partners | spy - infiltrated | manipulator - manipulated | star-crossed | first meeting | other

I’m in the mood for: fluff | angst | horror | romance | humor | crime | hurt / comfort | action | supernatural | slice of life | crack | dark threads | light threads | any genre | multi-para | shorter para | one-line | any length | plotted threads | unplotted threads | other