His Butler, Able “If you once reject the Faith, you can never pass into the gates of Heaven,” the crow said. “Would someone who believes in God summon you?” the boy asked, staring at the falling feathers around him. The male demon chuckled. “I’ll ask you again: do you wish to make a contract?” he asked, his voice ringing through the open space. The feline stared at the boy in front of them, seeing his eyes were a beautiful royal blue color paired with dark hair that had a navy tint. A red bit of cloth mostly covered him from the lower part of his torso to his knees. The parts of his body that she could see had many scratches and small cuts adorning it. “Don’t be tedious! Just execute the contract and grant my wish!” the child exclaimed. The feathers that had fallen began …show more content…
to float back up, blocking them from the boy’s sight as they took the forms he wished. The feline’s short hair turned from a bright pink to a sultry muted red. Her fuchsia eyes turned storm cloud grey. Her black cat ears shrunk into her head, forming into ears that matched those of a human. The crow didn’t change much; his wings disappeared into his back, and his eyes lost their glow. They were almost the color of blood. He became slightly taller, whereas the feline stayed the same height. The feline appeared from the mess of feathers first, wearing a navy colored maid uniform that went to the ankles with a white apron and matching headpiece. The crow appeared a moment after, dressed as though he were a butler. His suit and tie were completely black with a white undershirt and matching gloves that covered his new contract mark. They nodded to each other before turning to the boy who gave them a nod of approval. The feline turned to the crow, whispering something to him that made the male demon’s eyes widen, before he gave a slightly stoic nod. * * * * After making the young master’s breakfast—poached salmon and mint salad with the choices of toast, scones, or pain de campagne—Corrin had decided to check on the other servants of the Phantomhive household. Sebastian, her partner, had left her to ensure they didn’t break anything while he went to wake the young master. Corrin grabbed the dart in her small hands, stopping it just before it hit her head. She turned to the young Earl Phantomhive, seeing him throw another dart to the gardener Finnian. Finnian, or Finny as they called him, however, didn’t notice until the dart hit him, going through his straw hat. The other servants—the cook, Baldroy, and the only other woman in the household, Mey-Rin—did nothing more than watch as he scrambled to the young master. “Wh-what was that for all of a sudden?” Finny cried, holding the back of his head to keep it from bleeding. “Actually, you should have seen that coming,” the young master said as he set his teacup down on the glass plate beside his breakfast. Sebastian opened the large double doors leading into the room. “Finny!” he exclaimed, “Have you finished weeding the courtyard?” He turned to Mey-Rin, “Mey-Rin, have you washed the sheets?” Mey-Rin twiddled her thumbs nervously. “Um,” she murmured. Sebastian turned to Baldroy. “Baldroy, weren’t you supposed to be preparing for dinner?” “Tanaka,” Sebastian began, looking at the elderly man sitting in the corner with a small cup of tea in hand, “well, you’re all right as you are.” “If you have time to dawdle around here, you have time to do your jobs!” Sebastian exclaimed. Corrin nodded, stretching her arms, making small mewing sounds as she did.
The other servants ran from the room, getting back to their jobs. Sebastian turned to her. “Corrin,” he said, “would you mind cleaning up?” She nodded again, moving to clean the meal the young master had left behind. She sighed tiredly before cleaning the mess in the blink of an eye. She carried the silverware and dishes into the kitchen and began to wash them with demonic speed. She wiped her hands and set out to find Sebastian again. Before she left the kitchen, however, she heard the familiar chime of a bell. She looked at the wall of bells across the room, seeing one labeled ‘Study’ ringing. She changed course, going down the hall, toward the young master’s study. She knocked on the door softly, hearing her master calling a moment later. She entered the room, seeing the young earl is sitting at his desk. “I’m hungry. I want to eat something sweet,” he said. “Nya, Milord, are you certain that is wise? You still have to attend dinner with your guest tonight,” Corrin replied. “Corrin’s right, young master. Your guest will be arriving soon,” Sebastian said, having entered the room a moment
later. “I don’t care,” the young master said. “Make me a parfait or something.” “You really should not,” Sebastian insisted. Corrin nodded along. Between them, she had always more submissive to her master than Sebastian had. He had always been more willing to deny them, whereas she would let them do anything, as long she didn’t deem it too foolhardy. The young master let out an irritated sound at them before slowly standing. “Oh, and about the portrait in the hall,” he began, moving to look out the window behind him. “Yes?” Sebastian and Corrin chorused. “Take it down,” he ordered. Corrin’s eyes widened slightly. The portrait was one of Rachel and Vincent Phantomhive—the young master’s parents who perished a few years ago when the manor caught on fire. “I, Ciel Phantomhive, am the head of the house now,” he said. The demons bowed to him, hands over their hearts. “Very good, my lord,” they say in unison. * * * * It had been several hours since Sebastian saw or heard from the other servants of the Phantomhive household. This was somewhat normal behavior from Corrin, who preferred to stay unseen and unheard, but from the others ... No, it wasn’t usual. He went to check on Finny first, seeing the blond-haired boy standing in front of a dead garden. “So, how exactly did this come about?” he asked, attempting to remain chipper by putting on a smile. Finny looked ready to cry. “I used undiluted weed-killer. I thought it would be effective!” he cried, clearly panicked. Sebastian sighed as he walked back into the manor, finding Mey-Rin standing in front of a fallen china cabinet on top of a cart. He asked her the same. “I was trying to get out the tea set we use for guests, but I fell and took the cart down with me!” she exclaimed in worry. Sebastian couldn’t help but notice that the large, circular lens of her glasses had several cracks in a few places. He didn’t comment, choosing to move on to the kitchen instead. He found Baldroy with the charred remains of what was supposed to be dinner. He asked once more, what had become of the kitchen. “There was some raw meat on the counter, so I figured I’d cook it … uh, with a flamethrower,” Baldroy said. His hair fluffed up like the fleece of a sheep and stuck out in certain places, and other than a couple burns on his uniform, he seemed fine. Corrin, after gathering the servants in a small corridor, was about to help them deal with their messes, when Sebastian stopped her. Upon seeing him, Mey-Rin and Finny cried, “We’re sorry, Sebastian!” Corrin moved to stand next to him. “We can pull this together if we hurry. Don’t worry Crow,” she whispered in his ear so only he could hear. She turned to the other servants. “Our guest is arriving a bit after six o’clock. We have two hours to get things cleaned and make the manor spotless.
“It was a large, beautiful room, rich and picturesque in the soft, dim light which the maid had turned low. She went and stood at an open window and looked out upon the deep tangle of the garden below. All the mystery and witchery of the night seemed to have gathered there amid the perfumes and the dusky and tortuous outlines of flowers and foliage. She was seeking herself and finding herself in just such sweet half-darkness which met her moods. But the voices were not soothing that came to her from the darkness and the sky above and the stars. They jeered and sounded mourning notes without promise, devoid even of hope. She turned back into the room and began to walk to and fro, down its whole length, without stopping, without resting. She carried in her hands a thin handkerchief, which she tore into ribbons, rolled into a ball, and flung from her. Once she stopped, and taking off her wedding ring, flung it upon the carpet. When she saw it lying there she stamped her heel upon it, striving to crush it. But her small boot heel did not make an indenture, not a mark upon the glittering circlet.
“Well-Well, it was the holidays, which I mentioned.” She gulped a shallow breath and her eyes met the floor again. “I was home alone-Well, Jordan was here, but she hadn’t paid a glance of attention to me. She was in a rush to find her clubs, cigarettes, and some trousers for when her tournament would begin. And, I suppose all the servants were here as well, they play a bit of a key to the story…” Her breath turned shallow again when she finally looked me in the eyes. “I saw a… darker servant walk by, and he held a note in his hand. He rushed by me like he was running from a bee, and I stopped him. I asked ‘what is
Are we really humans? What is the definition of a Human being? What makes us Humans? Society is so complicated that anything can be true these days. In Judith Butler’s essay, “Besides Oneself: On the Limits of Sexual Autonomy”, she talks about how humans are vulnerable to life around us socially and physically, and humans are dependable on others. She also uses examples such as grief to define who we are because when humans go through the grief process it reveals who that person really is and it can change that person forever in. Some people go through the grief process differently because it affects everyone. Losing someone close to you can change your prospective about life and how you look at things. We live in a country where everyone is going to be judged and looked at differently no matter what gender a person is.
When he arrived at the home the servant who took his hoarse and directed him to the room that Mr. Usher was in greeted him. Inside the house was also very ornate, but it to had also been left alone for to long. The entire house had a gloomy atmosphere that would put a chill down most people’s spines. When he entered the room his friend was staying in he was warmly welcomed. He could not believe the changes that his dear childhood friend had endured.
The man, the myth, the legend! Jeremiah 8:4 Jesus says, “you know if a man falls down he gets back up again. And if a man goes the wrong way, he turns around and comes back.” Jimmy Butler is a 6’7 shooting guard in the NBA who has endured more than any should go through. Jimmy’s early life was rough, along with his college and his first couple of years in the NBA. Through all that Jimmy has amazing accolades and awards.
What lies in the mind of an author as he or she begins the long task of writing a fiction novel? This question can be answered if the author's life is studied and then compared to the work itself. Octavia E. Butler's life and her novel Kindred have remarkable comparisons. This essay will point out important events of Butler's life and how they link to the mentioned novel.
I woke, I started to run, but I couldn't escape, the walls were closing in. I started to hyperventilate. I jolted up, I grabbed my necklace and pressed the pendent, it glowed in the midnight lit room. Brucie was sitting were the board was. She looked annoyed, she told me not to speak with mother, but the lose drove me mad, I had to speak to her again.
In Victorian times having a house full of servants at the owner's command was quite common for upper and middle class families. Some job titles included footman, cooks, maids, butlers, coachman, and cooks. Among these servants, the highest ranked and paid was the butler. While we all may have a stereotype of a tall, skinny man that opens the door and says, “You rang?” the actual list of duties and responsibilities of a butler express he is a man of high demand.
“I hope you return soon, Lady Sophia.” The man straightened his back and extended his arm parallel to the door.
the wash. She swept the green marble floor she stared at it for a few
He come back Days later and took us along with Solange walking, among vineyards to a sort of convent near the place where we should pass the demarcation line. Tired, I was afraid, until now the contact of Gilbert's Grandparent everything seemed planned to the last detail, Howewer, what with respect to tomorrow? ¿ How could pass the demarcation line the three of us? And what would be for us after?
eyes held the boy unwinkingly as he waited in the fiendish way of cats for the
Past experiences help create personalities, doubts/fears, aspirations and pave the way for the rest of the lives. In a perfect utopian society, no problems persist. No problems translate into no crimes, no murder or stealing, no criminals and ultimately no criminals as well. As of now, there has yet to exist a world like that let alone a society in a novel. Though Samuel Butler hopes to achieve a novel that incorporates utopia, it only ends up more similarly reflected a dystopian society.
“And then? Aren’t you going to tell me what happened after you arrive at there? Don’t leave my curiosity hanging,” He said, gently pestering me to continue my story.