xxxxxTime seemed to pass as it usually did for him: slower than pond scum. To others, it likely passed as quickly as a sneeze, but he always felt like he was waiting for an eternity to be given a task to complete. At being given the steak with its lovely side dishes, he could feel his inner self yet again sticking its tongue out in disgust. He did, however, eat it with dignity and grace as he’d been taught. When finished, and likely to the staffs surprise, he softly excused himself before taking his dishes to the kitchen in order to wash them himself.
xxxxxUpon running back into the chef, he raised a hand to shoulder level as if asking permission to speak. When she finally seemed to find the words that would allow him freedom to speak, his body had naturally shifted into the militarized parade rest before he did speak up. “If you are concerned about dietary restrictions with me, Madame, you should not be so. I am capable of eating as everyone else. As for the blood concern, as kind of a gesture as you put into that meal may be, it is one I can tend to myself. Being new here gets enough attention as is. Add on the statutes and limitations of my training, personality, and my species, it only drags up more and it will hinder the ability of the working staff. As a side note, whilst I may come off as intimidating, you should feel free to come to me and speak openly. I won’t bite if you require my assistance, answers to any of your questions, or advice should you require it. My advice, however, is that of a tactical precision so if it requires some form of emotional or opinionated response, you’d be better off seeking it from another. As for your sous chef, I offer him the most sincerest of apologies for my inability to be as he calls friendly. I’m afraid that is one of those things not quite in my repertoire of skills. The concept is simple, but the design is flawed and unnecessary so long as the main objective is completed. I appreciate the time you’ve allotted me to speak openly, and I wish you a pleasant day,” he responded cordially. With a shift to what would be the militarized stance of being at attention, he made a slight bow before heading back off to his room in that same eerie calm that always seemed to hover around him.
xxxxxAs Benson attempted to maintain the house, his attempts with Vallyne simply ending in failure as he had to deal with other things, the vampire merely went along for the ride. At being given directions to dust the gallery, he merely tipped his head to the side slightly once Benson had left him to deal with the foals. Dusting. Was he just testing his ability to be concise and able to handle tasks or was it just that he was distracted? Whatever. He was told to do it, so it would be done.
xxxxxBy the time Benson returned, Vallyne would have been done for a while and stashing a book of poetry back into its hiding place on the interior of his coat as he settled into his usual position of parade rest. The apology made him inwardly cringe. That was going to be hard to adjust to. Then there was talk about Phoebe’s sleeping in. My bad. I must’ve pushed him too hard. He obviously needed the rest though, was the only thought he had about that topic. Then there was praise, another cringeworthy action via words, and more tasks! Thank God for there being tasks instead of just making him stand in one spot for an eternity.
xxxxxFollowing the man when it was required, Vallyne did just that with his feet still following their original militarized marching motion. Whilst he had looked over the artwork before, he still looked at them as a change of scenery from the floor to the wall. At the mention of a friend Phoebe had a falling out with, his gaze shifted back to the elderly elf in front of him. So there was another person that Phoebe must’ve been speaking of before he fell asleep. And these were doctors for Phoebe that were supposed to be staying the night apparently. Well, so long as they didn’t make comments about him seeming ill or just tired, they could do whatever they wanted.
xxxxxVaguely glancing back at Benson as he continued on about the doctors, he merely gave a silent nod of acknowledgement. When handed a key ring, he gave the man a slight bowing as his thanks. He added another nod about the instructions with the keys, and another yet about where the linens and decor were located. He too set off into one room after finally giving the man a soft yet audible, “yes, sir.”
xxxxxThis task didn’t seem too difficult either. He even let the rooms air out a bit instead of just leaving them all stale as they’d felt when he’d set foot into them. Once Benson had finished his two rooms, Vallyne would have just stepped out of the third room on the right after having just shut the window. This concluded with the vampire returning to his go-to stance of parade rest.
Take a photograph, It'll be the last, Not a dollar or a crowd could ever keep me here
Benson stood inside the first guest bedroom, taking a deep breath as the door shut behind him. This was nothing to Lurtz, but the elf remembered fondly his time spent in this bedroom. The young master's lover had needed a project when Phoebe returned to work and Benson himself had offered up the renovation project for these guest rooms. Although it didn't look so now, Dragon had entered a house that had fallen to disarray and decay from disuse and lack of concern. Phoebe had begun to fix it after spending some time brooding, but it really flourished under Dragon's hand. Benson walked deeper into the room and ran his hands over the dusty comforter, smiling softly. He had helped Dragon pick this set. In a way, Dragon had been like another son to Benson who had long since lost contact with his first. The loss of both was almost too much to bear, but at least he still had the young master to care for.
He struggled to hold back the painful memories and squared his shoulders, then pulled out the necessary implements and started on fixing up the room. He took about as long as Lurtz did for three rooms. The youthful did have their benefits. It had been far too long since Benson's own youth, he thought with a small smile. He dusted his hands off on a rag, peering into Lurtz's rooms with a critical and then approving eye. He nodded, then turned to Lurtz.
"Good job, young man. I am very pleased with your work." Benson then gestured down the hall with his hands and began to walk. "Let's take a short break. We have to bring the doctors up here soon so we may as well take advantage of our spare time." He whistled and a young girl appeared. She held in her hands a tray of glasses, all with yellow lemonade in them. He took two glasses and waved her away, handing one to Lurtz.
Benson walked leisurely down the hall and glanced over the paintings, pausing in front of a simple nature landscape. He sipped his lemonade slowly, eyes hard as they stared at the painting. "I suppose it's a good thing that you don't ask questions or voice concerns or opinions. There are so very many here who do those things and never stop speaking as a result. I suppose I'm no better."
He paused, sipping once more. "He was rather like that, too. The master's friend. However, I always suspected it was shyness instead of simple obedience." He chuckled, lowering his gaze to the little plaque with the name of the artist and the piece on it. "What a sweet child. It's too bad that they couldn't work things out." He closed his eyes and laughed, then opened them again and sighed. "None of this interests you, of course, but it is rather nice to talk to someone about all of this. When your heart breaks and there's no one to hear it, did you really break it?" Nonsense, of course, but it was nice to talk to someone who didn't know the full story.
Rain, rain go away, Come again another day, All the world is waiting for the sun.
Dantes_river
Oof, thank God I was in NJROTC for a semester. That's one stance that never leaves the mind when standing in line at the grocery store.
Sorry about the short post again, I'm hecka fighting this block with everything I have.
xxxxxIt was a given that Benson would check over his rooms in order to see how well he’d done his task. He was new, and it would only be prudent and commonplace to be sure he was thorough. It’d also leave room for advice in any flaws. Apparently there were none, and he was praised once again making his eye twitch. He was pretty sure that if life were some kind of cartoon or anime and he actually felt things openly, he’d be that character that moved over to a wall and threw up rainbows and glitter. It was just too creepy for all of this kindness to be directed towards him.
xxxxx“Thank you, sir,” he managed before stiffening a bit when it was suggested they take a break. Seriously? Was this man just yanking his chain or- He could feel his eye twitch a second time as the girl popped up with lemonade, and the butler retrieved two glasses just to offer one up to him. He had died and gone straight to Hell already, hadn’t he? This just wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. His hand, of course, had accepted the glass and his feet had followed, but he couldn’t help thinking he was failing to perform the duties he needed to do for the estate.
xxxxxGlancing up at the painting and taking a cautious sip of the refreshment, he could feel something gnawing at his insides though he knew not what it was. At being complimented, or something of the sort, about not voicing anything, his gaze shifted to the opposite direction of the man.
xxxxx“Unless it impedes upon my duties, all excess information is quite unnecessary. I’ll still absorb the information around me, mind you, it just won’t make itself present until it becomes necessary to retrieve said details and implement them in my work,” he stated coolly before his gaze shifted back to the painting. What was this feeling that this image was bringing to him? Where was Koail when you needed something explained? He was always so intrusive up until he was withdrawn from that school. Even as the butler spoke of this other boy, his gaze studied every detail of the painting and the details inscribed below it. “If I might say, and if this is supposed to be a reference to a tree falling in a forest with no one around, it would be subjective to answer. There is no direct information being given as the statutes of limitations thus leaving it up to those giving the answer. For example, a tree has fallen several kilometers South of us where there are no residents due to being struck by lightning during a thunderstorm that has yet to actually start raining heading East-Southeast at a speed of two-point-seven-six kilometers per second. Within thirteen-point-eight seconds, the fire that broke out from it will be quelled by the rainfall leaving no potential risk of a wildfire breaking out.”
xxxxxHaving stated this, he took another sip of his lemonade without a second thought. Whether or not it was true was impossible to tell, but it was apparent that he was positive that such details were indeed fact. After several more sips of lemonade and attempting to figure out his internal workings, he made an about-face and settled into a stance of being at rest. He enjoyed art, true, and especially enjoyed trying to find hidden meanings behind it. The problem with this one, however, was how it was making him feel on the inside. Something about it just didn’t feel right even if it wasn’t some kind of horrible wasteland with death itself standing there and the longer he looked at it, the more pain seemed to be radiating from the scars of the past. Barely hearing the slightest of cracks, he glanced back at the glass in his hand only to inwardly sigh at it still being in pristine condition. Then where did it come from? Glancing up to look at the nearest windows, he felt his eye twitch again at seeing a crack in it.
Take a photograph, It'll be the last, Not a dollar or a crowd could ever keep me here
Benson felt his eye twitch from the mathematical response. To be fair, he'd gone to school long before math was this complicated and had never found the desire to learn it afterward, so he didn't understand it one iota. Fortunately for him, Lurtz didn't dwell on it and he moved on. Benson took the moment to look over his current companion and latest employee. What a strange young man. He had a stoicism to him that nearly reminded Benson of his much younger self, but there was something else to it. Not an expression, oh no, but a vibe. There was something off. Obviously, given that the boy relied entirely on orders and obedience, but an underlying sadness to it. To be fair, that might have been his own sadness in seeing a man depriving himself of the beauty of opinion.
He sipped his lemonade and returned his gaze to the painting. It was one of the master's creations, a beautiful landscape of land nearby the lake. This was from Phoebe's more complex days, after the curse and young Master Dragon and all the misery that followed them both. Phoebe had come to the house after his curse, not before, and painted the scenes from his childhood home largely from memory even after his return. There were several elements not quite perfect, such as the placement of the trees and the color of the lake, but it was otherwise a very true likeness and otherwise one of Benson's favorites. The simplicity of the piece always reminded him of a kinder time. He sighed softly, then finished off his lemonade and lowered the glass.
"Alright. We have much to do and little time to do it in." He turned to Lurtz, pausing and following the young man's gaze to a window. His old eyes did not see the crack, but he knew there was probably something wrong that the well-trained vampire could see. He looked away, then raised his hand to his chin. Well, he could let Lurtz use this time to work on whatever he'd apparently heard or he could urge Lurtz to assist him and ignore it. Was there even a middle ground?
Benson ran a hand over his thinning hair, then gestured towards the end of the hallway. "I'm going to check on the master. You're welcome to accompany me if you like to shorten the time between tasks, but I may need to ask you to wait outside, depending on whether or not he's awake." He started walking towards the end of the hallway, the back stairs leading up to the third floor and towards Phoebe's private rooms.
Rain, rain go away, Come again another day, All the world is waiting for the sun.
Dantes_river
I was never allowed to be on the teams. It was a sophomore and up kind of thing at my high school and since I got politely asked to leave after one semester, I never got to try out for the armed or unarmed teams.
xxxxxLurtz took the poor older man off of his guard with his distant weather report in a brief comparison of trees falling in a forest with no one around making a sound to that of his philosophical question of having a broken heart with no one to discuss it with simply to heal emotionally. Not really a surprise there. He’d taken many by surprise when giving reports of tasks being completed or still in the process of being completed when asked. This whole break thing, however, had taken him entirely off guard so he felt the playing field had been leveled.
xxxxxFeeling the lingering gaze had shifted elsewhere, he was much more pleased. Being stared at meant you’d done something, most likely nothing good, that had made you stand out. Given the very same shift in attention towards the window as the soldier had, Lurtz was actually expecting some kind of response about the crack. When it never came, he didn’t know how to take it. Where were the questions? What about the blame? The unnecessary insults and pain for being such a horrible creature?
xxxxxNope. Nothing of the sort came his way. The only thing that did come his way were words of a suggestive-decisive nature. You’re welcome to accompany me. Waiting for the man to get a ways away from him, he turned back towards the wall and stepped slightly to the side only to smack his forehead against the wall. What part of not leaving options for him was so hard to understand? His father really needed to teach these people on how to avoid leaving something to be decided upon by him. The only saving grace to the sentence structure was the additional information of cutting down the timing needed to follow through on tasks being given: a must concept for any helping staff to be highly aware of.
xxxxxPopping up next to the window, he set a fingertip against the crack on the glass simply for the whole windowpane to freeze over. Shortly after removing his finger, the ice vanished along with the crack, and he was back to being at least three paces behind Benson. Ah! Crap. He’d left that tea set in the room for Phoebe with a note instructing him to drink the tea then ring the bell twice, and he hadn’t heard the bell so much as slide a little from it’s original position. Should he teleport in to be rid of it before the man found it? It was sure to raise alarm bells that a mysterious tea set with a simplistic note appeared in an off limits section after all.
xxxxxOh well. Maybe Benson would think he’d done it at some point, or another member of the staff had, or maybe he’d just be irked at Lurtz taking on the initiative of working before he was actually labeled as a member of the staff. It didn’t matter either way. He was simply doing his job one way or another. The worst thing these people seemed capable of was giving him a paid vacation to laze around and make decisions of inconsequential importance. The very idea of having a break to tend to his own well-being was like stepping into the Land of Oz: a nightmare. Give him Underland or Neverland in all of its horror-filled glory, and he’d fit right in. The Land of Oz, however, was too gentle in nature and thus gave him the creeps. People would most likely argue with him on such a topic, but they’d probably never even encountered the real versions of what lay written on the pages of those books.
That’s pretty stupid of your high school then. It would’ve been better to have left the teams open to all grades ‘cause the more you practice something, especially something you enjoy, the better you’ll get at it. mademotion_donotwant That just really grates my grits.
And just as a reminder in case it didn’t tag you: TAG!
Take a photograph, It'll be the last, Not a dollar or a crowd could ever keep me here
If Benson noticed Lurtz's short disappearance, he didn't show it. Instead, he continued the climb up the stairs to Phoebe's private rooms. He always felt a little uncomfortable coming up this way. Ever since young Master Dragon had left, the master had been so out of sorts. It felt repetitive to even think about it after all this time, but they all did it. They couldn't help it. However amicable the split had been, even he had to admit that a certain light had left the current owner of the house. He paused on the steps for a brief moment, feigning catching his breath, and sighed softly. What an absolute waste of time, he thought to himself. Phoebe had insisted that he didn't want their pity and here he was, just giving it out to the universe for probably the millionth time that day. He was ashamed of himself. It wasn't his place to question the choices of his master, the man who had done so much not only for Benson, but for nearly every member of the staff. He straightened his posture and continued to walk up, stopping once more when they reached the hall.
"I'm fairly certain that Master Dierdre is still asleep, but I do still request that you remain outside of the bedroom to keep his privacy intact until he has the time to introduce himself to you," said Benson as they walked down the hall. They passed by several paintings, however not as numerous as those in the guest hall they'd just been in. These were not as personal and had not been painted by Phoebe. They were older, one or two of them even portraying some of the more memorable members of the Dierdre family. It was odd, considering how much thought Phoebe put into the placement of the artwork throughout the rest of the house, that he would make his personal floor a showcase for his family.
Benson opened the door to Phoebe's bedroom slowly, blinking a bit at the strong light that shone as he did. A young woman stood over Phoebe's sleeping body, her hands glowing, and her face firm in concentration. Her companion, an older man with frown lines and salt and pepper hair came over to speak to Benson. He didn't close the door but kept his voice low in order to not disturb the woman.
He reached for Benson's wrist. "You haven't consulted with any other healers, have you?" he asked.
Benson didn't pull his hand away, but shook his head and frowned. "Why? What's happened?" His voice was littered with worry and fear for his master, whom he had loved as a son ever since the man was a giggling redheaded toddler.
The healer shook his head in disbelief and raised his free hand to his head, letting go of Benson in the process. "I don't know how to explain it. Someone's accelerated the curse and put him to sleep to numb him from the pain. We think that the spell interacted with his body's natural response to magic that's leftover from the first curse. Basically, his body learned how to deal with magic because he was magical. When the curse was broken, it took with it his abilities. The second wave, however, hasn't brought the magic back, so his body is reacting to outside forces as though it has the firepower and is going into overdrive. The sleeping spell will help, but there's no telling how long he'll be under. It might last until the full transformation is complete, or continue after." He glanced back to the sleeping monster, eyes soft and sympathetic. "Dusty is doing her best to rouse him, but there's not much we can do without the original caster here." He moved aside so Benson could step inside.
The elf entered the room, eyes on his master, and attention completely on him. He couldn't stand this. It actually hurt to see the person he'd raised be like this. The first curse had been difficult, but this was unbearable. He moved to stand beside the bed on the other side of Dusty. He knew the woman well but wasn't about to speak to her when he was feeling this emotional. He gave no attention to Lurtz, who was finally noticed by the male healer.
"Hey, you're a butler, right?" He asked, immediately feeling stupid because of the uniform. "We're gonna be done for the day soon, so do you mind cleaning up in here after we head to our rooms? We tried not to make too much of a mess but magic can be a little difficult to control." He gestured to the room that was, honestly, fairly messy. The tea that Lurtz had left had been left to cool where he'd put it, the note and the bell knocked away somewhere. Phoebe hadn't woken yet, so he hadn't been able to drink it.
Rain, rain go away, Come again another day, All the world is waiting for the sun.
Dantes_river
Yeeeeeah, my high school was also pretty sexist so they had way more problems than the grade thing. Girls were allowed to try out for armed but were always tossed to unarmed. I think our rifle team only let a girl in a year after I changed schools.
Oh, so I'm thinking that we can have Lurtz wake him at night to push the transformation through and that can be how they get those first sparks in. It's a long transformation, so that's a couple of nights at least.
xxxxxThe trip upstairs was relatively droll, but Lurtz merely continued on the path being given to follow by the head butler. When Benson stopped for a moment, so too did the vampire. Something must’ve been on the man’s mind though it was of no real concern of his. The biggest problem was that he had stopped this halting their progress and eating away at time best spent elsewhere. Eventually the man carried on, but Lurtz still felt that the time they’d simply stood there waiting for the head butler to clear up his thought were seconds of wasted time.
xxxxxFeet carrying him onwards, he gave a low response in acknowledgement of having been instructed to stay outside of the room. It was curious how the paintings were placed throughout the house, but he figured that normal people might consider placing photos and paintings of family nearer to them as a way of creating a closer feeling should said other family members be distant. To him, however, he had no real opinion on it aside from it being a sign of remembering them through some sort of record even after death. There were no bonds, just ink and paint. Then again, he didn’t really share a bond with his own family so it was harder for him to understand the closeness families were supposed to have with one another. His mother was nicer than the rest of his family, true, but she’d also made it clear that it was really just so he could keep angering his father to keep her entertained.
xxxxxHaving settled into his go-to stance when he’d come to be ignored with no tasks to accomplish outside of the room, he sighed inwardly in wait of being called upon again. The bright glow from the room was much too noticeably laced with magic, but it wasn’t exactly the concerning type. In fact, he’d probably call it novice if not simply amateur magic. Maybe it was just him though.
xxxxxThe conversation taking place in the room, however, captured his attention when the other man had brought attention to Benson about the current change in Phoebe’s condition. Shifting his gaze briefly away from the room, there were few thoughts that’d passed through his head. The first was questioning whom was of the higher ruling in this house: the head butler or the medical staff. The second was along the lines of how well-versed these people even were with magic. The third was more along the lines of him asking himself if he’d used too strong of magic for these people to so much as work with. The fourth, however, was simply an oops comment followed by the mention of them sucking it up ‘cause he was going to do it again.
xxxxxHis gaze snapped back at the floor in front of him when someone finally spoke to him making him nod slightly in answer. The question was indeed a redundant one considering his attire, but perhaps the man was mistaking him as a bodyguard. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been a formally dressed bodyguard. He’d swear these people just knew how to make him question their full potential. The man stating magic was a little hard to control merely answered his questions about their magical abilities: novices. He required a brick wall to smack his head against now.
xxxxx“Yes, sir. Your assumption in my current occupation would be correct. Tidying up the room would be no trouble either,” he answered honestly though he’d made a brief glance into the room from the corner of his eye. Jesus Christ. No wonder he hadn’t heard much of anything from the room aside from Phoebe still being asleep. There must’ve been a tornado that passed through the room and a far too loud ringing sound like that of white noise coming from that girl’s light magic. It seemed that it was only him that could pick up on it though. Screw the brick wall. He needed an underground bunker wall or a thick metallic wall to smack his head into. This household had the most subpar staff he’d ever met, and he was absolutely positive that none of them would still be alive had they been in his father’s house. Maybe he should start raising his hand and offer them suggestions to improve the running of the household. Nah. He’d just do it himself. Teaching them what was acceptable by his father’s standards would take too long for most would likely get so offended or so worn down that they’d end up crying where he’d then be scolded for being cruel.
xxxxxAh. Right. Briefly raising a hand to shoulder level as if a child wishing to be called on in school, he gave pause for a few seconds before speaking once more as he lowered his hand back down to rest at the base of his spine.
xxxxx“Mr. Benson will not take that as an act of disobedience should I follow your instruction, will he? I do not wish to overstep my boundaries as a new member of the staff.”
Take a photograph, It'll be the last, Not a dollar or a crowd could ever keep me here
The man looked over his shoulder at the woman attempting to wrangle her orbs of light, letting out an impatient sigh as he looked back to Lurtz and heard what was, to him, a completely ridiculous question. His irritation did not stray from his tone. "Whatever. He's not in charge in this room. I am. Now please, come inside and clean up." Finished with the exchange, the man walked away from Lurtz and returned to Phoebe's side. He raised his hands in the air above the young master, tilting his head a little to pop it before closing his eyes to try to concentrate. He grunted every now and then, the light flaring whenever he did so. It was hard for him to control even after all his time studying, but at least his companion seemed to have a better grip on things.
She leaned back as a tendril of light shot out from Phoebe's form towards her. The spell was strong, far too strong for her and her partner's magic. She knew it was probably better to stop trying to end the curse and simply make Phoebe more comfortable through the transformation, but she wasn't about to quit just yet. She pulled her hands back and then pushed them forward, repeating this motion several times in an attempt to calm down the magic seeking to harm her. It wasn't working, not really.
Between the two of them, Phoebe lay almost completely still. He occasionally moved when they did, his body seeking to regain the magic that it seemed to think they were taking away from him. This whole thing was an awful mess and he didn't look any better than he did the first time that this all happened. His fingers twitched as his claws momentarily retracted, then returned. This was nothing, a mere biological response, but Dusty took it as a positive and continued in what was essentially the torturing of an unconcious person.
Soon enough, though, Benson had had enough. "Please, that's enough for one night," he begged, unwilling to step between them just yet while they had the light, but his posture left little to be argued. He waited patiently until the woman lowered her hands, then rushed closer to Phoebe and took one of his hands. He hissed quietly as Phoebe gripped him back, a razor sharp claw piercing through his flesh just enough to draw blood, but he still didn't take his hand back. Instead, he stoll completely still until both the doctors stood back and started to collect their things. It was then that he finally noticed Lurtz, choosing not to say anything and instead helping them pack their bags back up. It didn't take very long and he lead them back to the door. "Allow me to show you to your rooms," he said quietly, pausing by Lurtz with a strange look on his face. "I'll be right back. Let me know if anything happens." It was a long shot, but he wasn't about to let it go just yet.
Benson lead the two out, leaving the still master and Lurtz alone in the room. The mess wasn't as bad as previously thought, although the books that had fallen from the bookcase weren't going to be very fun to fix. On the bed, Phoebe grunted quietly as he shifted just a little, his horns caught on the pillowcase that no one had bothered to fix in their hurry to leave. He tensed in his sleep, the expression on his face moving from nothing to discomfort. Dusty had done quite a number on him and Phoebe, even asleep, was feeling the effects.
Rain, rain go away, Come again another day, All the world is waiting for the sun.
Dantes_river
It'll be great. So we'll have Lurtz sneak in after the two healers mess things up, wake up Phoebe in an attempt to make the healing go faster, they have sparks because Lurtz is awesome and powerful and Phoebe is sweet and sincere and UGH they're gonna be so freaking cute alright I'm back in.
I really hope that he and Benson connect and learn from each other because Benson straight up will take Lurtz under his wing and is totes willing to adopt him.
I'm sorry this is so short, I am completely lacking in inspiration for this until Phoebe wakes up.
Well that was definitely abrupt. Whilst his exterior didn’t show it, Lurtz had been taken off guard by the relatively swift way the man dismissed the head butler’s authority in the household. Another member of the staff, whether he was a medic or not, would definitely be in trouble with his father had this been his family estate. Instead of a verbal response of the loud sort that most servants seemed to use nowadays, however, he merely gave a slight nod with an audible yet low word of obedience followed by a slight bow. Rejects of the rejects indeed.
Standing by took way too much time, but he was getting a good idea at just what level of amateur magic these people were based at. Ugh. It was starting to make him feel ill that these people were even allowed to leave a school of magic specialists with this low class of magic, and that white noise was only getting louder when that man joined in. At least the blood in the air, minute as it was, drew his focus in on something else instead of them.
At finally being addressed, he made yet another swift and elegant slight bowing motion in compliance. “I shall do all that is necessary.” And then they were gone. Thank all of the gods and goddesses claimed to exist for that much. With a brief glance down each side of the hallway, merely a precaution of course, several magic circles flashed just as briefly in various locations. One couldn’t be too careful after all, and he’d rather not deal with any interruptions from those that opted to come back here. Fortunately, they weren’t in the hostile department so it’d be easy to dismiss by others, but Lurtz would be alerted by them.
Stepping into the room, the same swift chill as before swept across the room only for him to close the door behind him. After giving the numbing effect of the icy magic a few moments to settle in, his hands and feet carrying him around the room in order to tidy up, he paused by the bedside and looked at the boy in his misshapen form with an eerie chill that just matched him to a tee. No wonder his sisters had their mother implant that charm to keep his hair blue on him with the seal containing his freedom.
“Amateurs. They really should go back to the basics of the basics if they’re struggling so hard with the small stuff,” he sighed heavily before leaning over the bed to untangle the pillow from Phoebe’s horn only to pick up the small bell no longer in hiding once he’d stepped back slightly. He took a second to ponder whether or not the head butler would even hear it if he were to ring it, but he doubted he would seeing as that medical man sort of gave him the same impression as one of his own more talkative sisters. That said, he gave it two soft chimes with a second wave of magic slightly warmer than the initial icy chill rippling throughout the room. “Scent of the sea before the waking afterwards brings me to thee, into blue memories.”
With the low thrum of his words came that sense of drawing forth the conscious world for the slumbering man. Incantations weren’t truly required, but as his mother would say, even the smallest of sounds and/or movements from the caster could alter how the magic played out. He found that using them merely kept him from leveling cities, or putting the entire household to sleep in this case, and it tended to keep it under the radar so others wouldn’t know he was using it.
He once again started to move around in order to clean the room as well as recast the spell from earlier on the somehow untouched kettle of tea. After setting the card he’d left with the tea previously on fire to be rid of the evidence, he poured some into the teacup and shifted slightly to face the bed once more. Geez. Even this curse was subpar. That sleep spell shouldn’t be taking so long in waking that up to allow the functionality to catch up on what his dark magic had drawn out so as to pick back up on where it’d been left off.
“If you require something besides some numbing to the pain currently being experienced due to the failure in basic magic from members of the staff even I cannot comprehend, I’d first suggest drinking your tea in which I will assist you as needed,” he added curtly as he moved from a more attentive stance back into one with a mild sense of rest, the back of his hands set casually at the base of his spine. Of course a part of him was still cursing formal attire for all of the stiff motions it forced you to use. Even though he practically was a robot with a mechanical way of going about things, the elegance and grace of the fey made it seem as free-flowing as the wind or a river rushing to the sea: a pro of having been born an elf. “Honestly. I’ve seen small children wield magic better than them. Light magic really shouldn’t give off that much white noise let alone that high in pitch. They’re going to damage someone’s eardrums sooner or later.”
Okay. He’d take that as a good job on his part since he didn’t just bluntly state that the staff was far too lax, inept at their jobs, subpar and/or lazy. He simply informed the other, probably to no avail due to just waking, of how unwieldy those that used magic were in the kindest way possible without just saying that they’d be better off having their magic stripped from them than to continue on with it.
Lol. Benson adopting Lurtz. I just find that amusing somehow. I needed a good chuckle after the Phantom Of the Opera post. But yeah...
It’s a given that Lurtz will start off kinda stiff and cold on the exterior, but he’ll be less so as things pick up. He may even be able to give a genuine half-smile! Full smiles will be a real challenge for him though. He couldn’t even muster a real full smile with Dragon after all. If instructed to or it was absolutely necessary, he could act the part, but the genuine article doesn’t come easy for him which is odd. Such is the life of a Lurtz though. Of course, he’s probably going to continue finding taking breaks a needless waste of time for some time, but he’s been neglected of me-time practically his whole life. His dad’s a d-bag. A Duke D-bag! emotion_dowant
I’ve been on a Nightwish kick lately, and I was listening to The Poet & The Pendulum and it kinda made me sad seeing as I was writing to Lurtz after all. It fits him in a dark way with a twang of his wishes in it.
Take a photograph, It'll be the last, Not a dollar or a crowd could ever keep me here
Drawn forth from the darkness that seemed to carry with it an unspeakable pain, Phoebe opened his eyes and took in the sight of the room. It was the first moment in days that his mind felt uncluttered enough that he could think for himself. It took a few seconds before he realized just why his mind was uncluttered: the pain was gone. Well, not gone. He could still feel the aches like a marathon runner would the day after a big race. However, the worst of the pain was somehow numbed to him and he was unable to put into words just how grateful he was at this. He tried to sit up, managing to somewhat lean himself against the headboard of the bed. His horns knocked into the wood, causing a sharp increase of pain that quickly subsided. He raised a hand to his head, then turned to speak to the presence in the room that he'd expected to be Benson.
Met instead with a stranger, Phoebe did a very good job of not freaking out. He took the tea with one clawed hand, his hand lingering in the air for a couple of seconds before his hand slowly fell to his lap. He managed to keep the tea upright but was otherwise a little too weak to actually raise it to his lips and drink. Considering he had no idea who his present company was, that was probably fairly smart.
Phoebe's eyes, dark blue and inquisitive, watched the strange man as he walked around the room and insulted the staff. Based on who he was talking about, he had to assume it was the magical healers that he and Benson had called on for the last curse. The new guy was probably right, seeing as the last transformation was the closest Phoebe had been to death in a very long time. He glanced down at the tea, wondering if trying to drink it would actually help. It couldn't really be much worse than he was already feeling.
He struggled for a moment but nevertheless managed to lift the cup to his lip and took a sip. He winced. Well, it wasn't great. Still, he gritted his teeth and swallowed back about half before he had to put it down. It started to help a little pretty quickly, but he'd wait a while before finishing the rest of it just in case.
"So, who exactly are you?" he finally asked, leaning his head back and looking directly at the elf before him. He probably shouldn't have been so abrupt, but considering his guest had spent the entirety of their first conversation trash-talking about fellow magic-wielders, he figured there wasn't much need for subtlety. "An elf, I can see, and magical to boot, but I don't think I actually know you. You don't work for me, do you?" The getup should've been a dead giveaway. "If so, Benson must've hired you while I was out."
He stopped talking, his jaw hurting. Oh, he'd forgotten how much that sucked. Growing his teeth as a kid was uncomfortable, but growing fangs was an absolute nightmare. He raised his free hand to his jaw, rubbing gently before wincing and letting his hand fall. He looked back to Lurtz, then decided against his better judgment and down the rest of the tea. "Man, I really hope that wasn't poisoned. That would suck." He didn't want to be offensive, but it was hard to decipher what was and wasn't when dealing with a stranger, regardless of whether or they worked for you. It felt good to be up and talking again, though. He'd mostly been asleep in darkness, but talking to someone other than his own thoughts was nice.
Rain, rain go away, Come again another day, All the world is waiting for the sun.
Dantes_river
Oof, the Phantom of the Opera posts... They keep messing me up, man. My heart's not strong enough. Just imagine Benson taking Lurtz to the park to teach him to fly a kite. That might help.
That's fine. Phoebe can smile enough for the both of them! Really though, he's a ray of sunshine and as long as Lurtz has feelings for him, he'll be able to see what Lurtz means even if he's not smiling. At any rate, Phoebe will start taking him as a buddy on his self-care trips. Like uh... Like he'll be all "dude I'm going to the spa and I double booked on accident and everyone is so busy and I have no friends other than you and Benson so... come with me please", stuff like that.
I don't think I've listened to Nightwish in a good many years. I'll sit down and listen to The Poet and The Pendulum next time I post. Right now, I'm on a huge opera kick. Nothing quite like one of opera's many tragedies to bring you down while starting off a love story.
There it was. The master of the household was finally bringing to life the waking world in the consciousness of his mind. There was low-key energy, a given based on what all was happening to him, but seeing as he hadn’t been given any demands in the form of a question, Lurtz merely watched on in silence. It wasn’t really a surprise that the first question was straight to the point in asking who he was, but he did have some inner portion of himself that he’d somewhat wished the man had some semblance of an inkling as to who he was in general: a butler!
“I’m often called you or that one, but the name in which you may use to refer to me is Lurtz. The respective additives of sir or mister are entirely unnecessary, and just strange, so I will have to inform you that it would not behoove you to use it with me,” the elfin vampire responded to the question given albeit he was still standing in the same spot beside the bed. Introductions would always be long-winded it seemed. How droll it was going through these steps every single time. Wasn’t almost everything he’d been taught to do relatively droll though? It didn’t take much thought, but that left room for extra thoughts that could be detrimental to his duties. Eh. He’d just have to focus on possible threats nearing the property.
“I did say that I’d assist you should you require it, sir,” he reminded the misshapen man only to slightly shift his gaze away from him when he was labeled an elf. That was probably as annoying as the whole vampire treatment that only drew more attention to one’s self. “I was an elf, sir, as in past tense. My father was certain to turn me from an elf to a vampire early in life to correct a biological error from my mother’s lineage. That was a long time ago. Considering the state of the household and the staff inside of it, I’m going to have to say that magic is relatively neglected around here. Mr. Benson was taken off of his guard when I removed the glamour hiding the angular features of the fey in my bloodline earlier on after all.”
He then shifted his hand just slightly in front of him as a gesture to his attire. “You would be correct on that, sir, though I was lead to believe that the head of the household was hiring and the head butler was merely mitigating the initial entrance of a new member into the household in order to see if they were able to perform efficiently before being formally introduced as a productive addition to the staff. I am your new butler as of yesterday. Short-lived, yes, but I’m afraid to inform you that it has been enough time to assess your working staff and the upkeep of the household being somewhat... lacking. The head of staff has also introduced a new... skillset that I am unused to having in any estate I have worked at prior to yours. It is a peculiar and foreign concept, but I shall do my best at readjusting to these... breaks.” Good grief. He’d paused a little too often in that for lack of better words and sheer discomfort at what lay behind them. It was just this house with all of it’s sincerity throwing him off was all.
Taking a moment to allow the man to rub his jaw, he took up the time to retrieve the now emptied cup and pour a second cup. “It would be highly inconvenient for you to die on me so I’m doing what I must to keep you alive. Besides, if I wanted you dead, I’d let the stress from your second shift into this form and your supposed healers kill you. Less effort. Whilst it might not taste the greatest, it’s a medicinal remedy passed down my mother’s side of the family from the First Fey of the Undying Lands. Due to your low class curse with it’s flawed and clichéd counter, however, it’s unable to work at full capacity. If I had the original caster of such a shoddy job of curse magic, I’d be able to completely counter yours and toss it back on them with a heavy dose of backlash attached to it.” He took a second to snap his fingers making a light blue puff of smoke to come from the cup before holding it up to Phoebe.
“You will, of course, still have the lack of energy and a minor touch of aches for a few days after I’ve finished accelerating the process, but it’s better to hurt for a few more days than the next two-to-three months. Your struggle is much too real so do not force yourself into hurting yourself more than necessary, and instruct me as you will in order to achieve better results until you are in better shape health-wise. Drink please.” As if an afterthought, he made a fairly unnoticeable half-shrug just to add, “And don’t worry about offending me if you’re concerned about that sort of thing. I have strict instructions to follow given instructions, and only take action of my own under certain circumstances. Your ailment is considered part of those certain circumstances due to the staff being incapable of handling it themselves. Mr. Benson is sure to realize that such direction is part of my resume simply so I may get the household up to par on working standards - to lessen the strain of the staff having fallen behind via a trade-off in the lord or lady of the house as an example. Your home, however, appears to be far too lax and would be entirely unacceptable in the standards I was trained for thus my commentary on your staff being subpar. I do apologize if it comes off as rude, but I am uncertain if they’ve just been this way because of your condition or if it’s all you expect of them. Either way, it was something I’d think should be remedied in order to run a proper household with a waiting staff. This wouldn’t be the first estate I’ve been sent to in order to correct ill behaved staff and/or lords and ladies of the estate. Do inform me if I do happen to offend you though. Your homestead is very off-putting so I have some readjusting to do for the environment I’ll be working in. Should it be required, I will take it upon myself to retrain the staff into being able to maintain the estate properly and efficiently. Your medical staff, however, I must insist be retrained in their use of medicinal magic as they only seem to be floundering about like a fish without water. I also apologize if this conversation has been relatively long-winded on my part. It is my duty to follow through on answering questions efficiently, and inform my current lords and/or ladies in whom I’m caring for of what is happening, what is in need of inspection and offer up suggestions that will be of the best outcome.”
Whew. Long-winded indeed. Perhaps the additional apologies for speaking so bluntly and so ill of the staff being inept would help clear up that this was an entirely new, uncharted territory for him. In all of his experience, he’d never once set foot into a home where there was time to waste on miscellaneous and frivolous activities of his own choosing. Here, they were able to take breaks from their duties in order to ponder over inconsequential things such as haircuts and clothing, music and literature...
Okay. He’d have to admit that literature actually required people to read something, and most of the current population he’d come across either listened to someone else reading it out to them or not bothering with reading nor listening to it. It still irritated him knowing that there were people in the world that used a lowercase letter when referring to themselves in the third person. It was a capital “I”, damnit, not a lowercase! Autocorrect was the addition to the world that would lead to illiterate future generations. Screw the advances of technology, and get your kids a hard copy of a fricking dictionary! At least you wouldn’t have to worry about charging it.
I knew it’d be a sad and temporary thing, but it just kicked me right in the feels when it came down to this part. I probably shouldn’t have given the advice like I did since it’d become one of those where someone will be like, “They said not to do this so let’s do it anyways!” That does, however, lead me to ask this: do you want me to do the time-skip after I sweep the mob through the lair?
Lol. Lurtz with a kite that isn’t being used as a weapon. But yeah, it’s good that Phoebe can be the smiler ‘cause that’s definitely a weak point for Lurtz. It’d also be hilarious to ask him things like that in the slowly-becoming-free-willed version of himself much less the toy soldier version.
Well, there’s an operatic touch in Nightwish’s music.
Take a photograph, It'll be the last, Not a dollar or a crowd could ever keep me here
Wow. That was... a lot. So much to unpack in such a short amount of time. Phoebe hardly knew where to begin. He listened as carefully as he could, his mind still fuzzy from the extended nap he'd ended up taking. It was always nice to meet new people, he reminded himself, even when those people are unintentionally tactless. Actually, it might've been intentional. Lurtz, as he said he was called, did not seem to care very much about how what he said came across to the beast before him. He wasn't really sure where exactly to begin, considering Lurtz had unleashed a veritable soliloquy unto him. He raised a hand to rub his palm to his temple, then let it fall and took a long drink of the refilled tea. Ugh, it tasted horrible. He bit back the gag and cleared his throat.
"First off, not calling you, er, "you". There are too many people in this damn house, it'll just end up confusing people." He leaned back, gesturing towards Lurtz with his pinky. "At any rate, I was raised with a household so I know how to address butlers. Benson is just a special case because he's been there my entire life." Phoebe didn't consider himself overconfident by any measure, but he knew that he wasn't a fool. Being treated like one was a very easy way to irritate him and he was already in pain enough.
He wasn't about to comment on the vampire bit. There were a couple of vampires on the grounds, he believed, as well as a werewolf or two. Vampires weren't even the bloodiest creatures here, considering Lydia was a rougarou. It didn't bother him in the slightest. As with every species, there was a protocol in case the worst happened and he wasn't one to hold a grudge if they slipped. He trusted his people, which was probably why it was such a big deal that Benson had hired Lurtz while Phoebe was sleeping. He sipped a little more of the tea. The more he drank, the less awful it tasted. He knew it was probably because he was getting used to it, but the romantic in him was always looking for magical elements in things that didn't need it. He was shaken from his thoughts as Lurtz criticized the house once again.
Alright, maybe it was time for him to clear a few things up. "Benson was asked to interview a few possible hires while I was out, but I took to bed for much longer than expected. It's likely that he rushed the process to make things a little easier on me. Usually, I'm much more of an active presence all the way up until the end of the first week. We did suffer a sort of exodus around the time my curse started back up so we've been short-handed." He gestured to the room. "The house is not mine and has been struggling with me since it was handed to me. It technically belongs to the family, more specifically my mother. It does make maintaining a consistent staff a little difficult. As for the healers, they aren't my staff. They're typically hired by my father whenever someone in the family comes down with something. Not who I would have picked, exactly, but being unconscious makes it a little difficult to insist on anything, much less who's treating me." He hadn't spoken this much in a long while, pausing the catch his breath and drink more of the tea. He was tired, somehow, and his entire body ached, but Lurtz said it would help and he wasn't about to go against him. Not while he was still this weak, of course.
"As for the lax staff, as long as the house is clean and I get fed, I don't really mind what they do. I can't keep this place cared for on my own and I'll take whatever help I can get. Lax or no." He didn't hold back the little smile that appeared on his monstrous face. momentarily forgetting that he wasn't a cute redheaded attorney any longer. He was a beast once again. Nevertheless, he raised a hand in Lurtz's direction. "Don't apologize for speaking your mind. I encourage conversation in this house. Just try to work on your tact a little when you're around the others. They won't hear anything but your criticisms if you state them as matter-of-fact as you have been." It was sound advice, especially coming from a lawyer. He swallowed back more of the tea, then glanced down at it. "So what is this again? Numbing tea?" He wasn't a potions master by any means, but he'd learned his way around a kitchen pretty well when he was invisible. Potions were tricky for him, but a source of curiosity. It was probably why he'd agreed to drink it so readily. "I apologize if I'm struggling to pay attention. Transforming into a hideous beast and also sleeping for several days really takes its toll."
Rain, rain go away, Come again another day, All the world is waiting for the sun.
Dantes_river
It ain't pretty, but it's there. I'm sorry, I promise the next one will be much better.
Lurtz merely graced the response of what he wouldn’t be called with a slight nod of acknowledgement and approval. The reason for it was correct in how it’d confuse others, but he’d have to disagree on there being too many people here. To him, it was the adequate amount of staff for the size of the estate if anything. At having been told that Phoebe had grown up in a home with a waiting staff, however, his gaze shifted along the floor to the window. This was soon followed up by the raising of a hand in a ceasing motion that direction with a brief flick downwards alongside a, “Sit.” To what he spoke to was uncertain, but he had returned to his original position after he’d said it.
“Then it’s a good thing he did accelerate the hiring process seeing as you are so short-handed. I shall do my best to cover for the remainder of the staff for the time being then as well as alter my manner of speech in order to be less curt with the other members of the estate. The sous-chef already seems to dislike the three main tenets in which I must abide by, save for the one requiring me to take actions of my own volition,” he responded in regards to the house and the staff within its walls. He was pretty positive that there was a smile inserted into the conversation on the other’s part, but ever the toy soldier, he was basing it on how the other was speaking and following it up with a casual blink. Oh dear. This was going to be like that school with the sharing of feelings that left him utterly confused. He just needed to avoid letting it try to get to him this time.
"That would be a negatory. In the human tongue it would be referred to as the Baba Yaga’s Brew. Different touches of magic causes mild alterations in what specific job it takes on. Muscular strain, metamorphosis of extensive bone restructuring, minor cold, pneumonia, bronchitis, pleurisy, and so on and so forth. It is an acquired taste mind you, but it does help,” he answered honestly after his body had made a slight involuntary twitch. Nope. He didn’t need to traverse down that emotional rollercoaster and get his father pissed at him again. He’d rather endure what Phoebe was going through than a complete reset training session again.
It was after the apology for the lackluster attention from the transformation taking a toll that Lurtz made a second slight twitch with a small crease between his brow followed shortly by a click of his jaw before holding his hand up in a ceasing motion at chest level. “That there, your apology to be more specific, would be one of those things I mentioned taking place in your household that is strange if not just bizarre or unheard of, sir. Then you encourage conversation when the waiting staff should be seen, not heard. It is that which confuses me. The hierarchy here is placing us on the same level when we’re of two separate standings.”
Ah. Bad Lurtz. He wasn’t supposed to be readjusting his tie, especially not with one hand. He must’ve done it because he was somewhat overly conscious about his lifetime of scars showing from underneath the collar of his shirt even if it weren’t actually possible. Well, if he had to say one good thing about a formal suit, it was that it did a superb job in hiding what didn’t need to be seen much like his usual bland, robotic mannerisms. He wouldn’t be able to do his job if he were anything but an empty void. It was then he recalled that he’d removed the glamour that made him look human, but not the one he normally used to conceal those scars for the simple fact that he didn’t want new people asking about them nor to stand out excessively aside from how well he did his job. That having crossed the back of his mind merely made him smooth out the front of his suit with aforementioned hand before settling back down as it should be.
Rough patches come and go. I have them often enough and it doesn’t help when you write out rough drafts of how you’re going to respond then change it like twenty times before finally settling on one in the hopes of maybe smoothing it out with the next one.
