ᴇᴀʀʟ ᴄɪᴇʟ ᴘʜᴀɴᴛᴏᴍʜɪᴠᴇ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cieled) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2017-04-24 07:40 pm
cieled) wrote in entrancelogs2017-04-24 07:40 pm
(Open)
Who: Earl Ciel Phantomhive & Open!
Where: Around the mansion.
When: Early evening, on the last day of the event.
Rating: TBD (might be some zombie gore).
Summary: A disturbing arrival that is fitting for the little Earl.
The Story:
He was not a stranger to mansions, but this one was unlike any he had visited before. The rather diminutive Earl had retraced his steps - multiple times - and found himself in different rooms each time. Nothing made sense and to make matters worse, he was dead certain he was being watched - and followed. Pulling his pistol from his belt, Ciel tried to catch sight of his pursuer.
It was a shame for his general well-being that they were invisible. Their scent assaulted his nostrils first and he identified it without any trouble. Rotting meat. Gritting his teeth, he pressed his back to a wall, listening intently for footsteps; for the inhuman guttural growls he associated with the living dead.
I must destroy the heads. But how did he do that when he couldn't even see them? His free hand rose to touch his eyepatch, the seal on his iris radiating a sudden light behind the covering.
"Sebastian? Can you hear me?"
It was worth a try. He dodged just in time to avoid a ghastly bite, pointing his pistol at the thin air - or so it seemed - and firing once. Then he was running down the corridor, huffing as he sought cover. Any cover.
Where: Around the mansion.
When: Early evening, on the last day of the event.
Rating: TBD (might be some zombie gore).
Summary: A disturbing arrival that is fitting for the little Earl.
The Story:
He was not a stranger to mansions, but this one was unlike any he had visited before. The rather diminutive Earl had retraced his steps - multiple times - and found himself in different rooms each time. Nothing made sense and to make matters worse, he was dead certain he was being watched - and followed. Pulling his pistol from his belt, Ciel tried to catch sight of his pursuer.
It was a shame for his general well-being that they were invisible. Their scent assaulted his nostrils first and he identified it without any trouble. Rotting meat. Gritting his teeth, he pressed his back to a wall, listening intently for footsteps; for the inhuman guttural growls he associated with the living dead.
I must destroy the heads. But how did he do that when he couldn't even see them? His free hand rose to touch his eyepatch, the seal on his iris radiating a sudden light behind the covering.
"Sebastian? Can you hear me?"
It was worth a try. He dodged just in time to avoid a ghastly bite, pointing his pistol at the thin air - or so it seemed - and firing once. Then he was running down the corridor, huffing as he sought cover. Any cover.
no subject
[Dorian looked a bit tired from running from the zombies, but he did register this tear as something similar to his home...]
[Oh, he ought to explain.]
Ah... Sir? This might sound insane, but you were summoned to Wonderland at a most inconvenient time. Those... Unseen things stumbling about and attacking people should vanish completely soon.
As with these tears...
no subject
(Already he is trying to hail a carriage.)
Tears?
no subject
[He glances around for the first signs of something different than he's used to.]
Gateways to parallel universes, I'm told. Nobody found a tear that led them straight to their home, as wishful as that is, so I suppose we could expect something you're not so familiar with?
Not that I mind visiting, of course. I think this looks a lot like the London I'm from.
[He's another Victorian aristocrat who'd like to come with you if you're going to hail a cab.]
no subject
I don't see any of the living dead, so that is reason enough for me to think this...tear...might be safer. (For the moment. He nods shortly and motions at the carriage that stops before them.)
It can't hurt to see if my manor is present.
no subject
I take it, you're an aristocrat yourself? It's a pleasure to be in the company of my peers once more.
no subject
I am an Earl who is descended from many Earls before me. (He raises a brow.) Are you a Lord, perhaps?
The funny thing is, the only clue to Dorian's exact class rank is his family's titles.
[Ciel looks rather young to be an Earl. An Earl's son, perhaps, but not an Earl himself. Wonder how that came to be...]
As a matter of fact, I am, but I've found that titles aren't too important in a setting where people from all sorts of classes and societies are gathered and housed in the same sprawling mansion. It gets confusing at times.
[Not that Dorian really minded.]
Now, then. Whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to?
I think that was done purposefully.
Generally speaking, he would agree with Dorian to a certain degree. Titles are important at times - especially during cases - but he has found some magnificent talent in those who were born poor.)
To add one more word to someone's name hardly seems a bother. Only family and close acquaintances use my first name.
(He reaches up to touch his eyepatch, ensuring it stays in place.)
I am Earl Ciel Phantomhive and I serve Her Majesty Queen Victoria directly.
Thank goodness we have headcannon
[Then again, Ciel tends to wear fashions that are a bit fanciful for someone from the Victorian era. Not that Dorian would complain.]
I highly agree. Especially in the environment I've found myself in for the last few months.
[Dorian's eye is drawn to the eyepatch as the boy reaches up to it. Ciel seems so young, and obviously well bred. How on Earth would he lose an eye?]
[The shocking occupation might explain how.]
Wha- Her Majesty herself?!
no subject
Tell me of it. (His hand drops from the eyepatch and his expression cools.) Indeed. We Phantomhives have served the monarchy for generations.
no subject
[Now he's taking in the fine details. It's hard to pay attention to those when you're escaping the unseen undead.]
That... That's rather remarkable. I would have never expected a noble such as yourself to play the role of a servant.
[At such a young age as well!]
Huh... Forgive me if I'm being too curious for my own good, but how, exactly, have you served the monarchy?