[Hannah almost doesn't call. She almost locks herself in her room to wallow and be miserable; but she has never done very well with being alone. So when she calls, she sounds meek, quiet and a little sad.
It's a few hours after this conversation and she's still so very uncertain.]
Claude, [and she pauses to sigh.] Do you have a moment?
[Claude doesn't need to ask what this call is about. Like any other conversation in the manor, he overheard it when it happened. Since then, he has spent the last few hours perusing legal documentation, studying and then discarding every option he finds. Really, when it comes right down to endgame...]
Hannah.
[In the past, Claude having this tone of authority, of I know what I'm doing, could have been a grating thing to hear. He always did manage his household very well, no matter the crisis outside or within.]
Would you care to join me on the roof? I've arranged for a small sitting area where there is no chance of being overheard. ["Small sitting area" is actually a cathedral-skirted open tent in sandy colors that camouflages with the rooftop. Inside are a couple plush lounge chairs and a larger couch, which Claude is sitting on with one of his laptops and idly clicking his way through some .PDF file or another. Every so often, various spiders crawl up his arm to inform him of any new movements. On top of the glass table
( ... )
[There's an audible sigh of relief from her. Hannah has been holding that air in for a while; she's lost track of the minutes, really. But it screams of relief and discarded tension. There's a short pause; the sound of rustling as Hannah smooths down her dress.
When she speaks, her voice is still subdued and withdrawn.]
Ah, yes. That's fine. I'll be there shortly.
[And Hannah finds a kind of irony in running crying to Claude. She doesn't have it in her to find it funny.
She's a little slower than usual. Her body is listless and tired from being angry and miserable and it takes her fifteen minutes to get there. She isn't sure how she should be feeling. That gets to her because she had thought she had figured this out by now. How emotions work and what is appropriate to feel and what is not. It's frustrating to be feel so overwhelmed by them
( ... )
[As soon as Hannah sits down, Claude looks up and finally acknowledges her presence with a nod. His expression is plain, if somewhat resigned, like he's getting ready to console her that there's nothing they can do about it. Alois and Luca have a great deal of happier history with Jack Vessalius, don't they, so what can they do to prevent him from legally taking away their charges?
Then, Claude smiles. It's not a nice smile, but she'll know its malice isn't meant for her. A smile like this is more or less conspiratorial in its promise of pain.]
Hannah, it's going to be all right. [The authority in his voice--he is sure of this.] I have a plan.
[He lifts his hand and pats the couch cushion beside him, gently indicating she should come closer. If she needs someone to lean on, then he's perfectly all right with it being him.]
[voice] → [action]stabilimentumJune 27 2011, 03:56:07 UTC
[There's the distinctive click of a laptop closing.]
Certainly. If you'll please give me a moment...
[Within five minutes, Claude appears at the doorway of the music room. He is impeccably dressed in his butler uniform, like always, and carrying a silver serving tray. The flowery smell of Earl Grey tea is almost immediate--maybe it's too heavy, but Claude always makes tea that is very flavorful for Alois' sake. After entering the room, he shrugs a folding table off of his other arm, sets it down and opens it up, and sets down the tray atop it. The tea set is porcelain with gilt scrollwork, glinting in the sunlight, and he's already pouring a cup.]
This is decaffeinated Earl Grey, [he says, his serving skills plain and simple,] with a light base tea from the Nilgiri mountains of South India. I couldn't help but notice how thirsty you sounded, sir.
[Thirsty for meddling with Claude's family, that is.]
[It's late enough to have crawled into bed, but not really so much that Alois was ready to have gone to sleep. Ciel is beside him, too lethargic underneath the covers, and Alois is content to lay awake and watch him rest, until it suddenly feels like he's been chewing on ants. His tongue burns; his throat feels dry.
...What the hell is suddenly so wrong?
It feels a little like a hurricane in his head and chest and mouth, and he creeps out of bed and to the bedroom door, but he nearly runs downstairs and to the front of the house. When he finds Claude in the vestibule - why is he fetching a coat from the coat room - Alois clings to the edge of the wall, wide-eyed for reasons he can't figure out.]
[Right now, Claude really fucking hates how their connection is a two-way street. It's not often that he feels enough to be felt across it, however. Might be why it's frightening for Alois. Not even Claude getting a bullet to the head felt this torrential, and he seems to be clean of blood besides.
Turning around, heavy raincoat in hand, he stares at Alois and then remembers to bow, belatedly.]
Your Highness, you ought to be in bed.
[Without missing a beat, he pulls on the coat and begins doing up the buttons on the front. The fabric is solid black and flat, perfect for slipping away into the shadows.]
[Fear leads to anger, et cetera, et cetera. This is too atypical. His knuckles go white before he lets go of the wall, stepping forward, feet bare and brows furrowed.]
Where are you going? [he repeats, a demand this time, and those buttons are completely out of the question- his feet slap against the floor until he's forward and can cling onto the coat, instead.] Claude, stop it-!
[His own urgency startles him.]
You're staying home. When did I say you could go anywhere at all?
[They're on two different wavelengths again. --That's the sense Alois should get, based on the way Claude is looking at him.
Cold disgust.
A human couldn't possibly understand what just happened...]
Unique-looking red roses have bloomed in the front yard, [he says blandly,] perhaps heralded by the red-tinted rain. [For once, he isn't lying--there are many bizarre roses dotting the nighttime landscape. (Of course, those are Darkness monsters that belong to the recently deceased Grell Sutcliff. Claude can smell his death even from here, and he has the most uncontrollable urge to find it.)]
I thought you might like one, master.
[No, that is definitely not what Claude is thinking right now.]
Comments 97
It's a few hours after this conversation and she's still so very uncertain.]
Claude, [and she pauses to sigh.] Do you have a moment?
Reply
Hannah.
[In the past, Claude having this tone of authority, of I know what I'm doing, could have been a grating thing to hear. He always did manage his household very well, no matter the crisis outside or within.]
Would you care to join me on the roof? I've arranged for a small sitting area where there is no chance of being overheard.
["Small sitting area" is actually a cathedral-skirted open tent in sandy colors that camouflages with the rooftop. Inside are a couple plush lounge chairs and a larger couch, which Claude is sitting on with one of his laptops and idly clicking his way through some .PDF file or another. Every so often, various spiders crawl up his arm to inform him of any new movements. On top of the glass table ( ... )
Reply
When she speaks, her voice is still subdued and withdrawn.]
Ah, yes. That's fine. I'll be there shortly.
[And Hannah finds a kind of irony in running crying to Claude. She doesn't have it in her to find it funny.
She's a little slower than usual. Her body is listless and tired from being angry and miserable and it takes her fifteen minutes to get there. She isn't sure how she should be feeling. That gets to her because she had thought she had figured this out by now. How emotions work and what is appropriate to feel and what is not. It's frustrating to be feel so overwhelmed by them ( ... )
Reply
Then, Claude smiles. It's not a nice smile, but she'll know its malice isn't meant for her. A smile like this is more or less conspiratorial in its promise of pain.]
Hannah, it's going to be all right. [The authority in his voice--he is sure of this.] I have a plan.
[He lifts his hand and pats the couch cushion beside him, gently indicating she should come closer. If she needs someone to lean on, then he's perfectly all right with it being him.]
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Certainly. If you'll please give me a moment...
[Within five minutes, Claude appears at the doorway of the music room. He is impeccably dressed in his butler uniform, like always, and carrying a silver serving tray. The flowery smell of Earl Grey tea is almost immediate--maybe it's too heavy, but Claude always makes tea that is very flavorful for Alois' sake. After entering the room, he shrugs a folding table off of his other arm, sets it down and opens it up, and sets down the tray atop it. The tea set is porcelain with gilt scrollwork, glinting in the sunlight, and he's already pouring a cup.]
This is decaffeinated Earl Grey, [he says, his serving skills plain and simple,] with a light base tea from the Nilgiri mountains of South India. I couldn't help but notice how thirsty you sounded, sir.
[Thirsty for meddling with Claude's family, that is.]
Reply
...What the hell is suddenly so wrong?
It feels a little like a hurricane in his head and chest and mouth, and he creeps out of bed and to the bedroom door, but he nearly runs downstairs and to the front of the house. When he finds Claude in the vestibule - why is he fetching a coat from the coat room - Alois clings to the edge of the wall, wide-eyed for reasons he can't figure out.]
Claude?
[He's not sure why it's frightening.]
Where are you going?
Reply
Turning around, heavy raincoat in hand, he stares at Alois and then remembers to bow, belatedly.]
Your Highness, you ought to be in bed.
[Without missing a beat, he pulls on the coat and begins doing up the buttons on the front. The fabric is solid black and flat, perfect for slipping away into the shadows.]
Reply
Where are you going? [he repeats, a demand this time, and those buttons are completely out of the question- his feet slap against the floor until he's forward and can cling onto the coat, instead.] Claude, stop it-!
[His own urgency startles him.]
You're staying home. When did I say you could go anywhere at all?
Reply
Cold disgust.
A human couldn't possibly understand what just happened...]
Unique-looking red roses have bloomed in the front yard, [he says blandly,] perhaps heralded by the red-tinted rain. [For once, he isn't lying--there are many bizarre roses dotting the nighttime landscape. (Of course, those are Darkness monsters that belong to the recently deceased Grell Sutcliff. Claude can smell his death even from here, and he has the most uncontrollable urge to find it.)]
I thought you might like one, master.
[No, that is definitely not what Claude is thinking right now.]
Reply
Thank you.
Reply
One of them might demand an explanation for your silence.
[A beat.]
I have no qualms about lying for you if you'd like, Mr. Vessalius.
Reply
I don't care, I just want to be left alone.
Reply
Then I suggest you lock your doors.
[... even though he'd love to see Jack rot in self-imposed solitude...]
They will be made upset by this, sir. You are responsible for more than your own self now.
[Where has the responsible father gone? Or was he ever there to begin with?]
Reply
( ... )
Reply
Leave a comment