sirenspull_logs | take a breath -

Entry tags:

take a breath -

Who: Oswald Birdville (

iudex) & Ciel Piehive (

littlest_lord).
When: Toniiight - sometime during the evening when people are mostly sleeping.
Where: Phancyhive.
Summary: Oswald stumbles upon the music room. Meanwhile, Ciel is sneaking treats again.
Warnings: N... one...?

[It's easy this time, at least, to sneak away from the room he landed himself in and can't seem to get himself permanently out of. (It's like Jack has a device that goes off when Oswald tries to leave the property for any period of time, yeesh.) This time, he can explore - people are sleeping so his avoidance is fulfilled - and slip past where he knows (on some level) that there are slumbering strangers.

Oswald isn't as tired anymore, but that doesn't mean that he wants to see anyone. They give him terrible, terrible headaches.

His sneaking is aimless and it's only coincidence that he wanders into the room with the piano. This would be a good time as any to leave - get out and run away and make sure he can't be tracked - but what he's found dashes that away. Would it be wrong to lift the cover and play? For a little while, he thinks. Oswald would go crazy without the ability to play something, whether it be the piano, the violin, or something other than those.

There's this, at least; he's slid over before he realized it, fingers pressing down on the keys that start Lacie.

A question appears high in his mind: can he play without waking anyone up?

...

Challenge accepted.

Oswald doesn't bother to sit - he just begins to play softly, wringing the notes out from his clear memory of the song he composed for his younger sister.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You're Glen Baskerville, are you not? Jack's friend. You were here before once, but not for long.

_{[Perhaps he's speaking too much. Even now, Ciel is painfully aware of his state of appearance. Sure, he was an Earl, but Glen Baskerville was a Duke - hadn't that been the case? Embarrassing.]}

Either way, I doubt you remember me in any case. I suppose this isn't the best means of an introduction, but I am Earl Ciel Phantomhive, the master of this house. I hope you will feel welcome here.

So I've been told.

[He could have sworn he wouldn't be bothered, but - that doesn't matter. Ciel isn't hostile. On the contrary, he's in his nightie and has snuck some snacks (Oswald could probably take that apart to crack down on the reason if he weren't too busy judg... ing...), so he isn't very bothered.

...he's not sure if he feels welcome or if he even wants to feel welcome, but the second he says that he's the master of the house something in Oswald's mind clicks.]

["my son wouldn't object to you taking rooms"

"my son wouldn't object"

"my son"]

[Oh

boy

The weight of his judging should be palpable as he stares oh so hard at Ciel before he inclines his head and nods.]

Your doubts would be correct. However, do refrain from calling me by that - my name is Oswald. [And it's in that slight way he says name that should show that there's a bit more to it than just 'Glen' or 'Oswald'. But, it remains that he would prefer it for the time being.

He's not completely Glen yet, after all.]

It's a pleasure to meet you again, Earl Phantomhive. I apologize if my presence is a bother. [In any case, anyway. Jack's son. Son.

......... this is too weird...]

_{[It's been awhile since Ciel's found himself being stared at so hard. Even longer since he's felt the scrutiny under another's gaze. He swallows hard and grips the plate just a little bit tighter.]}

Understood, Lord Baskerville. I will call you as such.

_{[Because really, what else was he to say in that regard?]}

And your presence isn't a bother. Not at all. Any friend of Jack's is welcome in this house. Your playing was rather lovely.

[And now with the Lord Baskerville... something in him recoils, but he won't correct what Ciel wants to call him. It just- grates on his nerves a little bit and irritates him.

As if he's far more used to being called just 'Glen' or 'Oswald' - as if he's dropped all titles when talking to people as well. It seems that Oswald will never be able to shake the odd feelings off. As is, the irritation is split second and easy to miss before he turns his mood back into neutral.

Or, well. Neutral Judging, at least, until he hears praise towards his playing. Towards 'Lacie'. That's enough to wash most of the judging away and soften his look.]

Are you going to stand there all night? [...] Come here.

[If Ciel liked it, then he really has no reason to shoo him away.]

_{[The irritation isn't missed and Ciel's honestly not sure what he said wrong. Was it the title? Was it his appearance? Why did he even care in the first place? (Old habits die hard, it seems.)

When he's ordered to come over all he can do is comply, little bare feet pitter pattering over the floor to where Oswald sat on the piano bench, the plate stacked with pumpkin tarts still in hand and untouched. The last time he had met this man it had been over tea with Alois at his side. It had been a proper meeting of sorts and Ciel had enjoyed himself. This was just incredibly awkward and if he didn't feel small already, he certainly did now.]}

Would you...care for a tart?

_{[Might as well offer and be polite.]}

Edited 2012-10-08 07:34 (UTC)

[...it figures that he wouldn't sit down. Oswald immediately scoots over on the bench to make very obvious space for Ciel, looking at him imploringly.

And then staring.. at the tarts... uh.

Slowly, he reaches over and takes one. Just one. He can resist after this; curiosity tells him to taste it before he knocks it - and he has nothing to knock, munching while he waits for Ciel to settle. Oswald's bad mood is mostly gone now anyway, one hand holding a tart that gradually disappears and the other starting to push down on piano keys.]

_{[That look...It's a look he hasn't had directed at him for quite some time. Usually it was a look his Auntie would give him if he wasn't complying...and he even remembers brief flashes of it when his father, oh so very long ago, would catch him eating sweets before dinner. Mother too had given him that look before, as had Sebastian...

It's enough to get him to sit down on the bench, plate set down in his lap carefully. Things surely couldn't get any more awkward than this...]}

[Oh, dear. Oswald knows discomfort when he sees it and the only way he knows how to assuage it is - well, he doesn't know how to assuage it, really. He just knows how to comfort. Settle down, Ciel, settle down.

Unfortunately that doesn't seem to be needed here. Not in the way he knows how, and certainly not with a stranger. He doesn't know if they were friends before Oswald originally disappeared, but Oswald won't take any chances.

The tart is finished off and Oswald ghost his fingers over the keys again. Now is as best a time as any, he guesses - he's never been good at not being.. blunt....]

Were you unable to sleep? [Without the comfort of food, he assumes, but this is mostly concern more than curiosity. Children are children, after all.]

...Yes. _{[He admits after a moment, finally deciding to pluck a tart from his place and press it against his lips.]} I always have trouble sleeping.

_{[Silence then, as he tended to the tart, small shoulders slumping as a bite was taken. A few moments later and it was finished off.]}

I take it you weren't able to sleep either?

['always' is a long time; 'always' continues on forever with no where to go, and oswald understands.

he understands moreso thanks to the last two months of hell.

his fingers press down.]

I wasn't. [what little sleep he does catch is plagued by blood and screams and mass murder before he's become the one who commits it.] Nightmares are terrible things.

[oswald says that, but then 'lacie' continues and flows and he has no plans on stopping until it finishes. it could, at least, be used to banish what's left of the awkward in the air.]

_{[All he does is nod in agreement, relaxing visibly when the melody begins to play again, comforting himself with another tart. Ciel sits very still as he lets the now familiar melody wash over him, legs dangling over the edge of the piano bench, toes barely brushing against the floor.

He knows the title of the melody by now - 'Lacie' as it were - a girl's name. One he'd seen mentioned but without much context. Whoever Lacie had been, however, she must've been important. Her melody, her memory, had not only been kept alive by Jack, but even by Elliot Nightray when he had been here before. A hundred years. What would it be like to be that important? To be remembered for so long? Surely after he and Alois bit the dust they'd be forgotten. Who would be left to remember them?

Then again, that's precisely the reason Jack had made them both pocket watches like the one he had, wasn't it?

Ciel lets the thoughts slip away, simply to enjoy the melody. He only has one tart left on the plate when Oswald plays the final chord, letting it fade off into silence.]}

...She must've been important, to have such a beautiful melody to keep her memory alive.

[one tart left, huh? - ciel really is small, but everyone is small compared to oswald. even jack is cut short a few inches (maybe three or four), but ciel is tiny beside him and oswald knows he can't dislike him.

he can't trust him either. that's a given for everyone here, though ciel's words when he finishes have impact.

sweetly, slowly, he looks at ciel and smiles. it's a far cry from what he could conjure up once before thanks to - to someone, someones, people he can't remember, but it's genuine and oswald could glow. he had dug his own hole by not knowing which path to follow and he's done the same thing here, but oswald is aware of what he'll choose in the end.

in the end, that might just okay. ciel's words ease the pain in his head caused by trying to remember enough for him to speak.]

- Lacie is my younger sister.

[just in case jack hadn't mentioned it. but, lacie isn't gone yet. he hasn't wiped her existence away in his time or cast her into the abyss; she's still under his palm with that smile on her face that he'll never wipe from his memory.]

_{[Jack hadn't mentioned it, and Ciel looks up at the now softly smiling man with a slightly one-eye wide gaze. A younger sister...Well, if Alois' dedication to Luca hadn't been enough of an indication as to how older brothers acted toward their younger siblings, it comes of little surprise that Lacie, Oswald's younger sister, had been important. Or was important. Who knew really what her true story was - Ciel surely didn't.

It's not as if he knows what it's like to have siblings either. Ciel was a lonely child for most of his childhood. Sure, he was loved more than anything else by both his parents and close relatives, but he'd only ever one playmate and that was Elizabeth. He didn't know what it was like to be a brother, but it must've been a tiring job. Even Edward, Elizabeth's older brother was unbearably over protective of her and thought of her as God's gift to Earth. Maybe both Edward and Alois were extremes when it came to examples of sibling affection, but that still didn't take away the fact Ciel would never know what it felt like.

All he has to compare is the fondness he had for his late parents.]}

I've always wondered what it would be like to have a sibling, younger or older. It must be nice.

_{[To have someone to depend on and someone to keep you company - to grow up with. Would things have been different, if he had a sibling? It was a curious thought to ponder upon.]}

[the smile falls away quickly (he's not used to it even forming, especially with what's happened), and oswald - shakes his head.]

I don't believe that I would be the best person to say.

[because he's going to erase his sibling's existence. ... still. he can give him that, can't he.] The experience depends on the person, but I suppose that it is nice. Lacie is someone who cannot be replaced. [much like jack.] Often times I used to find myself chasing after her because she would become upset and run away, but I do not regret it.

[the only thing he regrets it existing.

by just existing, he's hurt her irrevocably and made her hated by humans who fear and despise the children of misfortune. (it would have been better if he just hadn't been born -)]

Edited 2012-10-10 04:00 (UTC)

It is a good thing to have...something you can cherish and not regret.

_{[A rare thing to possess in life. There were simply so many things to regret, so many things to look back on and wish they had gone differently. Ciel not only hated but regretted his very existence from time to time and although he had sworn to himself to never look back, to take the hatred he had gained from past transgressions toward him and use it to move forward without regretting a single thing...it was easier said than done. Back home it had been easy. Back home, he hadn't to care about anyone aside from himself. Here however, his existence was without reason, his goal stripped away.

It was hard not to regret sometimes.

The last tart of his was gone, the plate clean as little fingers reached out toward the keys, brushing over them lightly, but never pressing down.]}

Especially when there are so many things one can come to regret in life.

Yes.

[he regrets a great many things, but lacie isn't one of them. (jack isn't either, as much as oswald might wish that he were.) lacie said that she didn't regret being born and that he shouldn't regret it either.

but, she doesn't know how it feels to be responsible for the reason why her sibling is loathed and rejected by society. she doesn't know how it feels to twist the things around her without any intention of doing so until they become things that are hated, too, corrupted beyond words and feeling. as a baskerville, she's certainly capable of knowing; but, oswald knows lacie better than anyone else, just as she knows him better than anyone else. he'd never belittle her fate aloud.

this is a cycle. to avoid it becoming worse, oswald must not let anyone close enough for them to get hurt - that was a rule back there too, wasn't it? there was only one exception, but he remembers that that exception was already...

...

violet eyes watch ciel carefully, look passive before he takes his hands off the keys.] It's best to focus on the things that you cherish rather than the things that you regret.

[children should never have regrets, especially not those brought on by the past.

distraction time:] Play something for me.

[it almost sounds like a hesitant question, but oswald's never been one to skirt around choppily.]

Edited 2012-10-10 07:32 (UTC)

_{[It was best to focus on the here and now and those things that could be cherished and loved without question.

Any more dwelling on inner thoughts of the past was cut short by the request, one that Ciel found himself looking up at Oswald immediately, in surprise.]}

Play something?

_{[Well...if this wouldn't be nerve wracking...but could he really turn down such a request?]}

Anything?

[into which he just gets up and scoots the piano bench out with him, slipping away to stand off to the side.

enough, at least, so that he can watch ciel play.]

Anything.

[if ciel can, of course. he won't fault him no matter what; oswald is making an abrupt request, and if ciel would rather wait - that's fine too.

(part of him hopes it'll quell their inner demons.)]

Edited 2012-10-10 08:25 (UTC)

_{[It's been some time since Ciel's had to perform on piano under the scrutiny of a watchful eye. It isn't as if he's bad at it either - he's been taking lessons along with violin for years now. Even so, the violin had always suited him better, what with his tiny fingers and all. The violin won't help him here, however, he's being asked to play the piano and nothing more.

It feels as if it's been ages since he's touched the keys, even though it hasn't been that long ago.

Slipping into the middle of the seat and scooting forward so his feet can reach the pedals, Ciel raised his little fingers to play an ever so hauntingly beautiful minuet by Handel. It's slow and fits the mood, complimenting the atmosphere left in 'Lacie''s wake. For Ciel, it's a favourite, a melody he used to listen to his mother play some afternoons when the weather was crisp and the leaves had all but fallen.

Hopefully, it will suit Oswald's demand.]}

[no, it's hardly that he's bad. oswald doesn't watch for missed keys or notes that weren't hit on time - he's looking for emotion (always has, always will), and.. other intriguing things that he's always been odd about, and certainly what he gets is suiting enough that he shuts his eyes and lets himself listen.

it makes him kind of sleepy, but that's good. he likes falling asleep on cool leaves and waking up with them in his hair and on his clothes - but then thinking about that makes him sleepy too oops best to keep his head clear and open his eyes. he could fall asleep leaning against the wall, he knows.

oswald waits until ciel has finished to return to the side of the piano bench, not sitting down but reaching out to brush his fingers over the piano itself.

...] I apologize for making such an abrupt request. [still, soft and peaceful now - just a little bit as a small smile returns.] It was beautiful - thank you.

_{[Well if that didn't feel good to get over with. Shoulders relax as Ciel casts his gaze upward toward the now slightly smiling man, daring to return the expression with one of his own.]}

You're welcome. Playing piano isn't my forte - I'm far more comfortable with a violin in hand than anything else, if I'm to be honest. I'm glad it suited your taste.

Even so, you did well.

[especially for something as abrupt as that. most squabble and stare at oswald like he's grown a second head. (perhaps a second or third soul, but never an actual head, sorry...)]

Would you play the violin for me one day as well?

[ALL THE MUSIC...]

Thank you.

_{[It feels good to be praised...]}

If you would like me to, I would not be averse to it.

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