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Entry tags:
♚ visitation.
who: ciel & muraki.
where: vita 4-2.
when: early evening.
style: first.
status: closed.
[ he had said that he would come and visit. he's had the address for weeks. unfortunately, he hasn't been much for socializing as of late. being betrayed by the only person one dared to rely on tends to rather ruin one's mood.
he's seen the doctor only once, briefly, since then--when he'd come to pick up his aunt for the masquerade, which Ciel had lost any motivation he may have had to attend. he had behaved brusquely, to say the least, hardly even acknowledging the man's presence.
but the manor is driving him mad. it's only himself and his aunt now, but the walls are beginning to feel suffocating. there's unmistakably a presence missing, and being there, knowing that, thinking about that, just makes him angrier.
so here he is, getting out. Ciel looks less like Earl Phantomhive today and more like a half-dressed doll, a lopsided bow about his neck, uneven buttons on his vest (one left entirely undone near the collar of his oxford), and a stocking drooping loose down his calf from an unfastened knee-garter. the strings of his eye patch look as though he tied them in the dark while attempting to stand on his head.
nonetheless, he reaches up for the knocker on the door, and raps firmly three times, mustering his composure. ]
where: vita 4-2.
when: early evening.
style: first.
status: closed.
[ he had said that he would come and visit. he's had the address for weeks. unfortunately, he hasn't been much for socializing as of late. being betrayed by the only person one dared to rely on tends to rather ruin one's mood.
he's seen the doctor only once, briefly, since then--when he'd come to pick up his aunt for the masquerade, which Ciel had lost any motivation he may have had to attend. he had behaved brusquely, to say the least, hardly even acknowledging the man's presence.
but the manor is driving him mad. it's only himself and his aunt now, but the walls are beginning to feel suffocating. there's unmistakably a presence missing, and being there, knowing that, thinking about that, just makes him angrier.
so here he is, getting out. Ciel looks less like Earl Phantomhive today and more like a half-dressed doll, a lopsided bow about his neck, uneven buttons on his vest (one left entirely undone near the collar of his oxford), and a stocking drooping loose down his calf from an unfastened knee-garter. the strings of his eye patch look as though he tied them in the dark while attempting to stand on his head.
nonetheless, he reaches up for the knocker on the door, and raps firmly three times, mustering his composure. ]
[1/2]
Of course. No sane man does anything without a reason. [ now is the time. this is the move he's been anticipating for months; that the time comes while in the midst of a game of chess is mere irony. ] But what do you suppose I've done, doctor? You speak as though you know already.