#phantomhiveraven

SHANE  &  RYAN  STARTERS||   accepting  ||  @phantomhiveraven    

god, he was annoying. what was that even supposed to mean ? – she genuinely wondered if he was just trying to make her snap right in the middle of a training session. right in front of everyone. his words had no sense: sure enough, Beast did not possess a squeaky little voice, and thank goodness that was it. so much for the gentleman-ish impression, the one he was trying to give to everyone else in the troupe. it could never work with her, that was for sure. as if she had not understood by first glance, the moment he had approached the tiger in the middle of the ring, what kind of person Black was. 

‘  Idiot. I do not sound like that.  ’   she whispered, hissing like a snake actually for how low her voice did sound. the whip clicked, beating angrily the circus floor - and hitting nothing but sand, away from him, anyone else and even the tiger she was taming that very afternoon, before the usual evening show. and then, the girl flashed him with poisonous eyes, to then turn around, not a single care for politeness or respect towards men now.

Of course.

Shooting the demon a dirty look, Nick sighed and properly surveyed the damage (now that his poor nose was over the initial assault... Cinnamon smelled good but this much was enough to make HIM want to hurl!). Somehow the maid had managed to get the brown powder EVERYWHERE, little puffs of it lifting off the floor with every step. He was pretty sure some had somehow gotten stuck on the ceiling. While fortunately the fine powder could be easily swept up rather than scrubbed, he knew Sebastian wouldn’t be satisfied until every nook and cranny was cinnamon-free, and even the slightest movement could cause it all to scatter again. This would take HOURS and it wasn’t even his fault!

The priest sighed, kicking at the dust on the floor and watching it scatter. Even the slightest breeze would likely ruin any progress made unless each handful was immediately bagged- ...Wait...

“Alright, fine... But first, out out out!” With that, he shooed Meyrin out of the room, shoving the butler out as well and closing the door after demanding no one come in until he was done. If Sebastian chose to remain inside to make sure he didn’t break anything, fine, but one way or another those doors would remain CLOSED!

After testing the windows to make sure they were tightly tightly shut (and thanking God it was cold outside), Nick quickly began taking anything loosely laying around the kitchen (which, thanks to the cook’s tendency of blowing the place up, wasn’t that many to save on cleanup), shaking the cinnamon off of them- uncaring where it landed- and placing them in any nearby cabinets. Next, he made sure to seal the pantry as best he could (fortunately the doors had been closed so no cinnamon got in there) and took anything that could spoil outside the room before slamming the doors shut again. Just in case.

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     Dantalion stood dead center in the hall, his power shifting noticeably but controlled around him. He glared at the other who was invading his territory, getting his gross aura all over and taking up time with his contractor.  He didn’t care that Will had a pillar contract with this feathered rat, he was one of the few other powerful pillars that got Dantalion’s hackles up. He bared his teeth in what could pass for a smile and let one hand drift to his hip.

Lydia Martin knew she was dreaming. Conscious and aware she focused on the shadow before her. It was a man; tall and ominous. Eyes glowed magenta through the menacing darkness ahead. There was a stench of death that washed over her senses, causing Lydia to gasp for a breath. She wanted to step closer; wanted to see what this creature before her was. After all, Lydia knew this to be a Banshee dream. A premonition. A warning. 

“Wh-who’s there?” 

A beam of light swept over the scene from an unknown source, illuminating the stranger’s face. Lydia gasped. His canines shone in the light. And then Lydia noticed where he was standing, the noise of the raven’s wings hit her ears as they suddenly erupted in one singular motion to flee the scene. 

“Who are you?” 

There was a coldness on her toes. Lydia looked down to see her bare feet soaked in a river of crimson blood, leaking from countless bodies before her. 

“What? No, I ain’t touchin’ anything out there!” He didn’t know the first thing about taking care of plants, so he wasn’t risking somehow hurting them.

“Right, right, sorry. Ain’t used to that.” At least not outside of the Eye of Michael, but that was a different situation entirely. He wasn’t used to calling someone a ‘master’ that he DIDN’T want to kill.

@phantomhiveraven

At first, Mei-Rin did not answer. Of course, Sebastian had been generous, even though sometimes harsh. And she had seen him when he had been cruel. Right now, she was certain of one particular thing: that she definitely did not want him to get furious at her.

“Forgive me, Mister Sebastian,” she answered, her voice trembling, no matter how much she tried to pretend she was not that scared. But who did she want to lie to? He, most probably, could even hear her heartbeat; he would know when she was terrified. “I... I shall do my best... not to disappoint you.”