Post by ciel on Sept 17, 2011 19:59:22 GMT -8
Monday, September 26th, 11:00am
Ciel Dorrit stood, hands on his hips, a frown of distaste on his face, before a decidedly disreputable shop. The outside appeared to be an out-of-business pawnshop, complete with a sign advertising such an enterprise, but Ciel knew better: this was a store that sold a completely different sort of thing. Instead of people's worn-out items, this store sold people's worn-out souls. In short, a slave market.
Still, Ciel had his reasons for being here rather than somewhere else: slave labor was cheap and easy to come by under this current regime. Not that he lacked the money to pay a servant, he merely wished to give a person that would otherwise have a difficult life something worth doing, a proper master who would treat them... decently. They would have something worthwhile to do, for once in their "careers." The very thought of that made Ciel smile and look down at his feet, where his little sister clung to his pant-leg, staring with innocent eyes at the proverbial shop of horrors before them.
"Come, Angela," Ciel murmured, scooping her up and holding her close, starting for the store with his long-legged stride, "Let's find you a nursemaid..." He pushed the door open, hearing a bell jingle somewhere... only to nearly stagger back at the smell within. Angela didn't seem bothered, but she was only a tiny child: she wouldn't recognize the stench of death and despair the way a young man who had held both parents as they'd died in their respective times would.
"Hello there!" he called out, his tone imperious to hide his growing revulsion, "Where is the owner of this rotten place? I require service!"
Ciel Dorrit stood, hands on his hips, a frown of distaste on his face, before a decidedly disreputable shop. The outside appeared to be an out-of-business pawnshop, complete with a sign advertising such an enterprise, but Ciel knew better: this was a store that sold a completely different sort of thing. Instead of people's worn-out items, this store sold people's worn-out souls. In short, a slave market.
Still, Ciel had his reasons for being here rather than somewhere else: slave labor was cheap and easy to come by under this current regime. Not that he lacked the money to pay a servant, he merely wished to give a person that would otherwise have a difficult life something worth doing, a proper master who would treat them... decently. They would have something worthwhile to do, for once in their "careers." The very thought of that made Ciel smile and look down at his feet, where his little sister clung to his pant-leg, staring with innocent eyes at the proverbial shop of horrors before them.
"Come, Angela," Ciel murmured, scooping her up and holding her close, starting for the store with his long-legged stride, "Let's find you a nursemaid..." He pushed the door open, hearing a bell jingle somewhere... only to nearly stagger back at the smell within. Angela didn't seem bothered, but she was only a tiny child: she wouldn't recognize the stench of death and despair the way a young man who had held both parents as they'd died in their respective times would.
"Hello there!" he called out, his tone imperious to hide his growing revulsion, "Where is the owner of this rotten place? I require service!"