Sweet Apples (Open)

[Lost]

~~~~~A Sweet Little Song~~~~~

--------In A Building High Above The Streets--------

"Because I said so!" The hardy slap of bone on flesh rang through the house as the little boy cuddled into his teddy's worn fur. Tighter, tighter he clutched it as the sounds continued and the echoing of female grunts and weeping seeped under his door frame. On and on the went, loud thuds and harsh crashes resounding from seemingly every corner of the room beyond the door. Suddenly, all went quiet and a soft whisper slipped into his ears, "If you ever talk back to me again, I will actually beat you to death instead of just near to it- you miserable cur."

He cuddled his head deeper into his bear as the stomping of boots came down the hall. Louder, louder, louder they beat the ground mercilessly. Hot tears began to stream down his face as he thought of his mother, and what Daddy was going to do to him next. The poor boy trembled and shook so hard that he would have lost the grip on his little guardian had it not been for the fact that it was pinned between his knees and his chest as he sat in the closet, surrounded by the few coats and spare shoes that were tucked up around him.

His panting breaths were silenced by the soft head of the bear, but his beating heart was so loud that he was certain that Daddy would find him. Mommy said not to come out, no matter what. But what if Daddy found him? No, he would stay in the closet... Louder the foot steps grew. The small boy gasped and tightened the grip around his knees. But slowly, slowly the footfalls softened and the man passed over the closed door... Inside, the boy began to softly weep.

--------In The Bathroom--------

The door slammed shut behind the towering hulk of a man, almost being ripped from it's hinges as it did so. Seething eyes looked at his pale face in the soiled mirror with rage and seething hatred. "That insolent-"He never finished as he reached up for the cabinet and ripped it open. Taking down a bottle, he tore the lid off and, using a thick finger, fished a single pill from the bottle and popped it into his mouth. Recapping the bottle and throwing it back into the cabinet, he didn't seem to care as it bounced back into the sink. He merely took the glass off of the sink and filled it with water from the faucet, angrily swallowing the small tablet. "Damn heart. Beat straight..." He nearly growled as his hand flew to his chest as if that would stop the stabbing pain he felt.

However, the medication soon began to take effect and the pain began to ebb. His anger however, did not. Just as the pain subsided. His fist found it's way to the weak drywall with a deafening crack. But this didn't help at all- his meaty hand was stuck within the wooden beams just behind the thin wall. A loud curse and a roar later his hand was freed. But that was not all.

As his ruckus subsided, he became aware of a light critching and scuttering- barely audible through the still running water, and the natural noise blocking of the wall itself but it was still there. The man, growing a bit curious, leaned in closer to investigate the sound. But still the source did not emerge from the hole. After a few moments, he determined that it was nothing more than a roach. A rather large and noisy roach but a roach nonetheless. And so he turned back to the sink with a huff.

An itch formed in his ear and so he reached up to scratch it. But as he did, something in his ear popped and he could suddenly hear that infernal roach scuttering louder. With a moan, he tugged at his earlobe as the scratching got louder and the itch got worse. Finally it got so bad that with time and continuous scratching, he felt something on the inside of his ear literally pop. Like something snapped. The tremendous pressure caused him to bellow in pain as he held his ear in agony.

With his free hand, he clutched the edge of the sink harder as the itching turned into a burning and oozing... and something else. Suddenly, his heart went cold when he felt a squirming in between his fingers. With a yell of surprise and a jump, he flung his hand from his ear and rid himself of the source of movement. With a light flop, a cockroach was flung into the wall and it dropped to the floor. A throaty roar of rage and panic, and the man's boot cam down repeatedly upon the poor creature.

When it was over he went back to the sink, panting and moaning at his ear. How the hell had... He never got to finish as another wriggling made his heart jump. In a panic he swatted at his ear but it didn't help. He managed to calm down enough to look into the mirror to see what it was... He heart stopped... another roach.

He blanched and his breath caught- but not from panic. The movement of hundreds of slimy creatures filled his eyes and throat as he gasped. His heart nearly pounding out of his chest as he clawed at his face and chest to rid himself of the insects. It was all in vain.

Meanwhile outside the bathroom, the boy had climbed from his hiding place and had curled up with his injured mother. But, upon hearing the screams turned gags coming form the other room, the boy's panic increased again. But then... It all stopped. A few bare moments later, a loud thud resounded. Then silence once more. After a few more moments of hearing nothing, the boy left his mother's side with guarded hesitation and began to cross to the door. His hand lighted the knob, he twisted it, and pushed it open....

--------In One Of The Nearby Markets--------

A bloodcurdling scream filled the air of the marketplace below, catching the attentions of the passersby, who whispered and murmured among themselves. In among them, little Clara stood looking toward the direction of the building the screams had come from as the building itself was out of eyes shot. Hearing nothing more, she pulled her soft black velvet hood over her dark hair and turned her attentions back to the wicker basket draped over her arm. Plucking one of the apples from the basket, she cupped it in one soft and delicate hand to inspect the perfectly red hue.



After a moment, she mused to herself, "Such a lovely color today."

[sebastian]

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The Persian-red singing [voice] slowly
dyes your chest the same [color]
[as if

[/color]] it's an eternally yearning
swiftly dispersing...
[Melody[/color]][/size]

________________________________

[/center]

Panic, hopelessness, despair, horror to the point of paralysis... The sense than someone was experience an event which would scar them for life rippled through his consciousnesses. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling, it was normally a sense he embraced and used to his advantage. It was the mere existence of those emotions on this level which served as a beacon to demons, which attracted them to their prey. What made it into a stronger feeling to him was the similarity to his former master. Ciel Phantomhive had been experiencing the same emotions, emotions on a level which had instantly drawn his attention. Upon his arrival at that sacrificial ceremony meant to summon the great Crow Demon, he had immediately examined the petrified boy's soul further... And that was where he had found that strength, that cold desire for revenge which drowned everything... That was when he had made up his mind to contract with the boy. And now... Here was another youth, a boy, in the midst of pure terror. Had he not already been contracted, he might have very well appeared to the boy at that time and made the offer.

Sebastian looked up from the vegetables he had been examined at a produce booth; the piercing crimson gaze locked upon a building from which he could all to clearly hear the sounds of... Human violence, to put in simple terms. There was a telltale glow of fuschia which flashed across the eyes. A Faustian's eyes, and probably most other demons, could see souls in the living world; much like a form of X-ray vision which siphoned out everything but the colorful lights of souls, with only vague outlines of surroundings. Many might have thought that the souls appeared as a foggy, silvery-grey apparition with traces of blue; but that wasn't it. Souls were colored, dyed many different shades which would be ever shifting throughout the course of a creature's life. Different colors reflected emotions and personalities; so every soul had it's own unique set of coloring. The image of the souls within the building flashed across his line of sight, focusing at the boy huddled in a closet; before everything shifted back to normal. No one would have noticed his eyes' brief change in color, unless they'd been looking directly at his face. But even then, they would blink in confusion and see nothing out of the ordinary.



The butler dropped his gaze from the house, drawing his emotions back to himself. It was a mixture of pity toward the boy, respect toward the mother, and a disappointment toward the father. Such weak creations, human beings... So prone to falling victim to their own rage, and causing each other pain. But then again, demons were very much the same; just on an entirely different level. Certain thoughts flashed through his head, thoughts which brought a twitch at the corners of his lips toward a slight smile. Demons were the physical embodiment of the seven deadly sins... Lust, Pride, Wrath, Gluttony, Sloth, Greed, and Envy... That was the only true thing which separated a demon from a human; excluding the obvious powers which came with being a demon...

Sebastian was drawn out of his thoughts as a scream ripped through the chattering of pedestrians. An eerie silence would spread over the crowds, but it would be short lived. There were a few disgruntled murmurings, but life would resume as usual within a few minutes. The butler hadn't so much as looked up as the scream sounded, he actually felt a rather savage appreciation as he continued to examine the vegetables. He pointed a gloved finger toward the strawberries, smiling pleasantly as he raised his gaze to the shopkeeper. "If you would be so kind, could you bag 4 pounds for me? Those strawberries will prove to be wondrous additions to a few recipes; you've raised them well." The woman managing the booth blushed furiously as she made eye contact, those ruby-red eyes tended to cause such reactions in women; it brought another quiet chuckle to his throat.

Once he had payed and taken the bags to the horse-drawn carriage which served as transport for the Hellsing shopping needs; he made his way back toward the market place. Clara was still hanging around, she had accompanied him this afternoon to pick up groceries. It wouldn't take him long to locate the child, and he swiftly purchased a red rose from a former refugee on his way back to her side. Just as he came up behind her like a shadow without a sound, the soft words of the color red were whispered. Just by watching her, and remembering about her strange unknown species and powers... His suspicions intensified. However, he would speak nothing of the matter. The demon leaned over, reaching around her head and gently pushing some strands of hair behind her ear. While he was leaning over her shoulder, the rose was tucked neatly behind that same ear; and he pinched off the excess stem. His voice was pleasant and soft as usual as he spoke into her ear, his breath tickling the flesh. "Yes, the color suits you well, Miss Clara..." He murmured, then straightened up with a smile and waited for her to turn around to address him.

[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote]________________________________
In the [stillness] of the shining sky
is your [home] of return
Beyond the [darkness[/color]][/size]

Thoughts ► "So these are her powers..."
Feelings ► Intrigued

[/size][/justify]
Where the [moon sinks[/color]][/size]
is a narrow [path[/color]] that leads you[/size]

Muse ► Great!
Tags ► Clara
Notes ► Sorry about the crappy post. -_- So many distractions...
Music ► Kagayaku sora no shijima ni wa
Credits ► Aurion!

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify]
Back to the [beginning[/color]][/size]
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[Lost]

How humorous, he thought she was the suspect. She smile as the arm was brought into her vision and humored him with a very small inhale of surprise that melted into a chiming and almost fragile sounding laugh. It was so gentle that the soft breezes that wafted by seemed to threaten to break the fragile sound. So sweet and delightful. But to Clara, the rose was better, perfect in every respect and way. It's pure hue matched with her hood and hair well. More than that, it was not big enough to cover the side of her head as flowers often did, but it was not so small as to slip out of her ear. It was just the right size for the little girl.

She giggled when his breath tickled the side of her face and the soft petals graced the other side. Such a wonderful day indeed. So cool and mild with not a cloud in the sky. But even so, the sun was not beating down upon the inhabitants of the town with a glaring harshness either. And even with the recent disturbance, the people all held rather pleasant expressions as the milled about the busy market. Poor souls that found delight in the simplest of things. But then again- She turned her bright green eyes to the butler- it was a shame to not relish in the little things every now and then.

Her face was fairly glowing in the rays of the sun as not one shadow was cast from her partial pulled hood, leaving the long wavy locks of her side-tied loose ponytail spilling out from it's darker depths. The cloak itself nearly swept the ground around her Victorian style boots and added to the folds of her skirts. The sleeves of her white blouse ties off at her wrists and the tail of the shirt had been tucked into the waist of the skirt. The front of the blouse itself was rather plain but had accents of white embroidery around the run of buttons. Pinning the front of the cloak closed around her collarbones nestled an ornate swirling circle of gold. With the rather mature ensemble and her makeup only lightly done along with her crimson lips and matching rose, on this particular day she made for a very becoming vision.

She unlooped the basket from her arm and placed the apple back inside, before holding it up to him to inspect, "Will these do, Sebastian?" Such hidden meaning in his words. That was part of what made her smile.

[sebastian]

________________________________
The Persian-red singing [voice] slowly
dyes your chest the same [color]
[as if

[/color]] it's an eternally yearning
swiftly dispersing...
[Melody[/color]][/size]

________________________________

[/center]

Sebastian extended a gloved hand to gingerly take one of the apples from her basket, the beautiful red standing out harshly against the pure white. He turned the apple some, inspecting the shine on the skin; looking for soft spots... There were none... He raised the fruit to his face, eyes half closing as he took a deep breath through his nose; sniffing the sweet aroma. When he finally opened his eyes, Clara would see just how identical the red of the fruit was to his eyes. He returned the apple to the basket, taking a good smell of the other fruits within. "Yes, they'll do just fine. Thank you, Miss; you certainly seem to have a knack for choosing the good fruits." He said as he straightened up, smiling pleasantly down at her.

He tilted his head as he took in her appearance, an unreadable glitter within the intense ruby-red gaze. His eyes lingered for a moment on that ribbon which was clipped neatly around her neck; and he found his thoughts wandering back to the scars he knew existed beneath them. No, he hadn't asked about them, nor did he plan to. As far as he could tell, he was the only one who even knew of the marks; Clara had made an instant move to attempt concealing them from him when he'd taken her old singed ribbon away. He was curious about where they had come from, what had caused them... And why the strange demon-like girl was so set on hiding the evidence from the world. But he wasn't one to pry. "You look lovely today, Miss Clara." He said, his sweet smile widening as he tilted his head again.

It was then that he heard a familiar voice. He turned slightly, looking back toward the tent where the former refugee had been selling the flowers; from which he'd bought the rose for Clara. Obviously, he had seen the butler place the rose behind her ear, and seemed to think it was was some sort of... Relationship? "Yo, Sebastian! Is that your daughter? He asked curiously as he approached them; offering a good-natured smile to Clara. Sebastian stiffened for the slightest of moments, only Clara would notice it before he relaxed and shook his head to the man. "No sir, she's merely a guest from the estate; much as you were not long ago. She moved in a few days ago." Sebastian gestured between them. "Miss Clara, meet Samuel; former refugee. Mister Samuel, this Clara, Hellsing's newest guest." The man chuckled quietly and he bent over to ruffle the girl's hair. "Well aren't you a right pretty little thing?" He chuckled cheerfully. "Nice to meet ya, miss. You'll love it at Hellsing, they're wonderful people."

[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote]________________________________
In the [stillness] of the shining sky
is your [home] of return
Beyond the [darkness[/color]][/size]

Thoughts ► "Fool..."
Feelings ► Irritable

[/size][/justify]
Where the [moon sinks[/color]][/size]
is a narrow [path[/color]] that leads you[/size]

Muse ► Decent
Tags ► Clara
Notes ► Sorry about the wait.
Music ► Kagayaku sora no shijima ni wa
Credits ► Aurion!

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify]
Back to the [beginning[/color]][/size]
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[/center]

[Lost]

The dark-haired little girl's crimson lips curled into a smile as she took in the sight of Sebastian's eyes alongside the apple. Certainly an interesting color combination. Some say the eyes are the windows to the soul. However, while they do lead to portray some of the owner's innermost feelings at the moment- perhaps even a few longset pasts- most could not see what lay beneath. One could not understand a person completely by simply looking into the orbs of another. Such was likely the case with Sebastian. It was unlikely that many had looked into those eyes and seen who he truly was. Not what. But who. What kind of being he was in his deepest center and at the pit of core.

Such was the case with Clara. Sebastian was one of the very rare cases whom which she could not see. Well, at least entirely so.So many doors that remained locked from her sight. But that is what intrigued her about him. She had seen enough to allow her to know certain things about the demon butler. But not as much as she would like persay. Either way however, she was content with what she knew at the moment. She so did enjoy learning things about other people. It was rather amusing to see what drove them and determined their habits. and dreams. People were so unique... and yet all the same.

Clara smiled as Sebastian praised her work and shifted the basket back onto a single arm after he had replaced the apple. But that polite smile shifted a bit as his eyes flickered to her neck. But it was not a shift toward the unhappy. It was a shift that couldn't not be explained by conventional means. Was it a look of knowing. Of uncaring? Perhaps even of allowance for the glance? Either way she turned her head to examine a few of the wares of the stall owner next to them. Was she allowing him to get a better look? Or was she actually studying the stall? She wouldn't tell.

"You look lovely today, Miss Clara."

More praise. My my he seemed to like to do that. But were his comments genuine or just a polite measure? Clara chuckled a bit and gave a small curtsey. She knew the answer. "I have you to thank for that, naturally." Her emerald gaze held a measure of gratitude as she rose from her lady's bow to return her attention to him. However it quickly faded when another voice entered the din and one of the merchants began to approach.

"Yo, Sebastian! Is that your daughter?"

Even before she had heard the man, she knew she would not especially enjoy his company. 'Yo'. What a common and uncivilized... No matter.

She only listened as he and Sebastian exchanged words, not missing the stiffening of the latter's posture. So he was not fond of the man either. Or was it because this 'Samuel' had assumed her to be his daughter? Or perhaps both. Clara underwent her own change as well. but her change was internal. 'Daughter'... Her weight shifted a bit, away from Sebastian and though her face remained polite and still, her eyes gleamed a bit with a strange coolness.

As the butler denied the title from her, she unconsciously retained her former position and continued to watch the interaction. Until the hand came down to her head. Deftly, she reached up and grasped the hand, simultaneously getting herself out from under it. The man would catch a cold glimpse into the green orbs of the young child that would likely send a small shiver down his spine. But the glance would only last a split second as a cordial smile stretched across her crimson lips and wouldn't extend past her eyes. She elegantly shook the hand she held. A much more agreeable position. And it wouldn't destroy her carefully and meticulously done hair. "My pleasure, Sir."

She released his hand and slid hers into the sleeve the other in front of her waist. "I feel fortunate to have been placed in such a wonderful manor." The comment was apparently directed to be a return compliment to Sebastian, but also served to answer Samuel. She had her polite tendencies as well she supposed. It also seemed as if the man's compliments did little to flatter the girl as she made no move to accept them. However, she didn't like to be rude and so she placed a few fingers delicately upon the flower in her ear. "Your roses are lovely, might I add. Not a single defect upon this one. Either that or Sebastian just has a good eye for perfection."