[There is perhaps nothing more delicious than the smell of Ciel Phantomhive's blood. Looming, leaning over the small boy, Claude is struggling to focus all of his attention on the papers on the desk. He's meant to be tutoring Ciel in Latin grammar, because that's what they have scheduled for today, because that's what he's meant to provide to his master. Transforming into Ciel's butler arose from a combination of good luck, good timing, and a good dose of infernal venom. He creepy-crawled into that summoner's sanctum expecting to be entertained--most humans cannot grasp the art of summoning--and emerged with a new pet project instead. The best part is which demon he triumphed over in claiming this contract. He stole it right out from under that demon's detestable high heels...
That's neither here nor there, he thinks, what with a contract to fulfill. He seems to have more in common with Ciel than he usually prefers in his contractors. They're both studious, intelligent, cunning, unwilling to suffer fools, and have a gluttonous streak a mile wide. The gluttony urges Claude to linger nearby, settling both of his hands on Ciel's shoulders, giving them an encouraging squeeze. He's often more demonstrative than should be appropriate for a Phantomhive butler. He only cares for the rules of the game when they happen to suit him, though.]
Excellent work, young master. Your progress is most impressive.
[And that's why he enjoys spoiling Ciel rotten at every opportunity. Praise, cake, affection, clothes, more cake, rare books, even more cake... whatever Ciel could possibly want, Claude is always eager to provide it. This is the easiest method of bending but not breaking the rules that bind them together. Nothing says he can't make his contractors be dependent on him for everything.]
You could take the time for tea and still remain ahead of schedule.
[Ciel is intelligent, and not just for his age. He's seen more than many adults, and he played a game far too dangerous for anyone to think like a child. It had hardened him, had made him more intelligent.
But it also made him reliant on his demon servant. His opponents were usually older, stronger, sometimes magically so. As much as he liked having his own hands involved, it was Claude's that had to be the killing blow, Claude who had to be both his sword and shield.
That was fine, he was convinced. A worthless swordsman would still lose the fight, no matter how good the weaponry. Claude's abilities would go to waste if not directed in the proper direction.
So he tells himself.
The young Phantomhive endured the touch. 'A butler shouldn't be so familiar with his master' had turned into 'a butler shouldn't be so familiar with his master in public' over time. It wasn't as if his butler didn't have to touch him in his duties, as it were. Claude's was the first face he saw when waking, the last before going to sleep.]
These lessons are why so many nobles are such idiots. [He wasn't always so mature for his age.] At least dancing is a social skill that will actually be used. I'll likely use this in our cases more often than I'll use it to impress the right family.
[These lessons were his least favorite part of the day.
One blue eye slid to the side, upward; the eye patch made it hard to tell if the other followed.]
Tea and one of your snacks, then. [While he wouldn't say as much out loud, Claude's snacks were his favorite.]
i'm so bad at this, i'm putting short explanations
Claude winning against Sebastian.
If neither of those work, let me know!]
let me know if you want anything changed, yikes.
That's neither here nor there, he thinks, what with a contract to fulfill. He seems to have more in common with Ciel than he usually prefers in his contractors. They're both studious, intelligent, cunning, unwilling to suffer fools, and have a gluttonous streak a mile wide. The gluttony urges Claude to linger nearby, settling both of his hands on Ciel's shoulders, giving them an encouraging squeeze. He's often more demonstrative than should be appropriate for a Phantomhive butler. He only cares for the rules of the game when they happen to suit him, though.]
Excellent work, young master. Your progress is most impressive.
[And that's why he enjoys spoiling Ciel rotten at every opportunity. Praise, cake, affection, clothes, more cake, rare books, even more cake... whatever Ciel could possibly want, Claude is always eager to provide it. This is the easiest method of bending but not breaking the rules that bind them together. Nothing says he can't make his contractors be dependent on him for everything.]
You could take the time for tea and still remain ahead of schedule.
It's all good! And, uh, sorry for length
But it also made him reliant on his demon servant. His opponents were usually older, stronger, sometimes magically so. As much as he liked having his own hands involved, it was Claude's that had to be the killing blow, Claude who had to be both his sword and shield.
That was fine, he was convinced. A worthless swordsman would still lose the fight, no matter how good the weaponry. Claude's abilities would go to waste if not directed in the proper direction.
So he tells himself.
The young Phantomhive endured the touch. 'A butler shouldn't be so familiar with his master' had turned into 'a butler shouldn't be so familiar with his master in public' over time. It wasn't as if his butler didn't have to touch him in his duties, as it were. Claude's was the first face he saw when waking, the last before going to sleep.]
These lessons are why so many nobles are such idiots. [He wasn't always so mature for his age.] At least dancing is a social skill that will actually be used. I'll likely use this in our cases more often than I'll use it to impress the right family.
[These lessons were his least favorite part of the day.
One blue eye slid to the side, upward; the eye patch made it hard to tell if the other followed.]
Tea and one of your snacks, then. [While he wouldn't say as much out loud, Claude's snacks were his favorite.]