Simply One Hell of A Butler

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Simply One Hell of A Butler

Post by King of Spades on Sun Jul 08, 2012 1:36 pm

Alfred Jones closed the door behind him, didn't flinch when it snapped shut with a loud bang caused by the draught. It was a windy autumn evening and the haunting wail of the wind even seeped through the door and window slits, making Alfred shudder involuntarily. He hated this season, almost as much as he hated winter. While he hated winter for the cold, he despised the depressing atmosphere of autumn. Boring.

He slipped out of his shoes, pulled his black leather gloves off of his hands, then hurriedly started to unbutton his double-breasted black coat, eager to get into a room with a blazing fireplace. Blue eyes flickered from behind the blond fringe, eyeing the foyer, and not finding anybody that was expecting him. Alfred shrugged the heavy coat off of his shoulders and carelessly left everything on the steps. His servants had long abandoned trying to meet him in person, as their master would always find a way to make them want to punch his pretty face. So, instead of risking any harm upon their master, they just decided to stay away from him, finding it smarter to do the chores off his sight. And Alfred didn't mind. He couldn't stand them anyway. So he always left his things by the stairs, because later one maid would come to collect them.

Being a son and only heir of old money, he was stuck with a big Victorian mansion. Too big for him to feel at home. He never liked this place as it obviously had too much British influence. And what was this whole thing with servants? He really would have preferred a small apartment in the heart of the town. Moving out was actually his first plan after the death of his parents, but the remaining relatives just had to butt in. This mansion with all its servants was the only way they could uphold some kind of control over him, those greedy old hags. They hired a controlling butler to make sure Alfred wouldn't do anything stupid. But that butler was history. Alfred could be nasty if he wanted to, and he managed to freeze him out.

But he heard that his relatives had already hired another manservant for him. They really were persistent.

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Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

Post by Omega Arthur on Sun Jul 08, 2012 11:46 pm

(Kudos to you for the Kuroshitsuji reference)


It was quite clear, from the state of dress that he wore, that the male swiftly moving through the town markets was no ordinary servant like the rest of the customers. With his suit clean and freshly scented, his fingernails precisely filed and absent of dirt, and velvet upon his collar - he was a rare but rich sight, prim and proper and clearly above the grubby street urchins and the servant ladies that scurried around him, in accordance to the hierarchy of their era. As he accepted fresh loaves of bread from the baker, he outstretched a gloved hand and shook it with the baker. Clearly, he was less afraid to deal with the underprivileged than the majority of people in that day and age. But, of course - his Master would not like it if he touched skin and skin with a commoner and then touched his things, would he?

That said, it was not like he knew what his Master wished for at all in the first place. It was not like he had ever met the man. But today, his first day, that would change.

Arthur Kirkland; he was of middle class descent. His mother had been a chambermaid for a Viscount. His Father ran a relatively small but profitable weaving business. But sadly, Arthur had nothing reasonable to inherit. As the fourth of four sons - a proud turn-out for his Father and Mother, with no awkward daughter to have to marry off to the right male - Arthur was born to acquire nothing of inheritance other than perhaps a few pennies that his older brothers had not greedily gobbled away. They were the business tycoon types. Himself, however, he decided to go a different route. He had been to school, but university was far too expensive for their family to afford for all of the Kirkland sons. So with little but enough education, he turned to something else.

Hence why he was here now.

Arthur Kirkland was not particularly unique in his dress, typically and boringly Victorian, it was his natural features that made him catch eyes. From rough blond locks, perhaps half an inch too long to be left without styling, with a blatant refusal to curl as the fashion today was - to modernly celebrated pallid skin, barely a tone above white, which made his heart-shaped face light up brightly whenever the sun touched it. His physique was mostly slim but he was not narrow, as he had curvature that did not seem to belong on a male's body upon his slightly-too-wide hips and a little bit too much shape to his thighs - but the masculinity of his clothing made sure his body was not mistaken as anything that would embarrass. Although it was his eyes, truthfully, that stood out the most. Unusually dark eyelashes, for a blond man, surrounded poisonously green irises - the sort of colour that a Mother would order her maid not to let her child touch. Of course, Arthur's handsomeness was objective - most women would certainly prefer a man with more muscular substance at the arms and chest at least - but he was nonetheless striking.

He approached the Household that he would be working at with his head held high and confidence under his belt. Yes, Arthur was certainly not anxious about his ability to perform - but he would confess to having the tiniest of butterflies swirling needlessly around in his stomach out of the uncertainty of entering a new place of work. His employers had warned him about the Master's attitude, particularly towards his servants. Now, normally a Butler was of importance enough to be able to slip in through the main entrance - he was dressed suitably enough for Lord and Lady eyes to fall upon, not too much of a dirt patch upon their day - but he would come in through the servant's door for now. He had already received the key.

The male stopped in his tracks, though, as he was interrupted on his path to the alternative entrance by the appearance of a tall, handsome male from inside. He stalled. He did not expect to run into his new Master yet, especially inconvenienced like this and with his hair thoroughly tossed by the wind - this was not the first impression he wanted to present.

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Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

Post by King of Spades on Mon Jul 09, 2012 1:36 pm

Alfred lazily loosened his cravat and the fancy pin securing it while he was walking into his bedroom. Everything he disrobed was carelessly left on the carpeted hallway; he was practically leaving a trail of fine clothing behind. First it was his shawl, then the black suit, followed by the striped charcoal grey waistcoat, and now said cravat. Well, he needed to provide his servants with work after all, there were many to be kept busy. Alfred grinned perkily and rolled his eyes.

Entering his room he inspected his face in the mirror, not liking the gentleman look on himself. Why were all the rich Americans so crazy about giving a pseudo British nobility impression these days? He sighed and chuckled— not like he was rebelling. In the end he succumbed to the pressure of his relatives that were so adamant about controlling his lifestyle. But if they wanted him to look like a rich ass-kisser, so be it. He never said that he was going to be perfectly good and nice about it, though. As if to prove his point to himself, he promptly opened the top button of his flawless shirt and loosened the braces holding his trousers (though the last part was really necessary as it was getting pretty tight around the balls).

As for now, he was hungry. Looking at the coffee table he was disappointed by the poor sight of some meager biscuits and cold coffee, while he really had appettite for something bigger. Lazily, he strolled to the dining room and found it empty of anything edible. He groaned in annoyance. Looked like he had no choice but to talk to the servants after all.

"John, make me dinner," he said, leaning against the doorframe seperating the kitchen and the servants' dining section.

The cook turned his head and shot the master of the house a grumpy look. "M'name 's not John. It's Gregory."

Alfred raised one unimpressed brow. "Oh really? Ya certainly look like a John. Now make me dinner."

The cook huffed, didn't mind showing Alfred his displeasure. Everybody in the house knew that Alfred was an ass, but they also knew that they didn't have to pretend to like him in order to keep their job. The only one seriously threatened was their head servant. Wasn't a new one coming today?

"I'll bring you your dinner up, sir," he said while wiping his hands on the apron.

Alfred however shook his head. "Just make something quick. 'M just going to wait here."
He whipped a cigar out of his breast pocket and approached the servants' house entrance to have a smoke outside. The wind blew right into his face. Ignoring the nasty weather he leant his back against the wall under the roofing and enjoyed a deep pull on his cigar. That was...until he was suddenly distracted by a person nearing the entrance door.

He looked down and spotted a meticulously dressed man with otherwise tousled hair looking up at him with a weird expression. Alfred raised his brows, curiosity picked. Blowing out the smoke, he immediately began to eye the other up. The man was young, probably older by a few years than him, and looked ridiculous with that panicked face.

"Heh, I thought they would send me another gramps type." Alfred grinned with a thoroughly amused expression.



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Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

Post by Omega Arthur on Tue Jul 10, 2012 5:35 am

He was not necessarily the imaginative type - the sort of daydream about future scenarios, plucking out the best scene from inside his head - but meeting his Master for the first time was certainly something that he wanted to get right. He had reoccurring thoughts towards how he would make a good impression, especially knowing that the male he shall serve had dismissed others within hours before. The man named Jones in this large, distinct manor house was notoriously difficult to stand. Arthur assumed that the best way to keep employment was to make a great impression upon him at the start. A sensible desire, let it not be said otherwise.

He had wanted to come in earlier than expected. To make certain the house was spotless. To have the chef ornately prepare the gentleman's favourite meal. To have music played to them - piano or strings, depending upon what his Master had gathered - while he presented Master Jones with a strong, precisely brewed cup of tea and today's morning paper and the mail accumulated in the postbox for him. But no, of course, something would intercept it.

It never does work out the exact way it was planned, does it?

All of his preparations he had in mind were flung out of the window. Now was a time for patience, virtue, and pleasantries. Although as Arthur looked upon the other male and his attire, Arthur found himself becoming intrigued by what he could see wrong with the picture before his eyes. It had to be said that, deep down, Arthur was somewhat of a perfectionist - and state of dress was his largest, most significant pet peeve. From the loose braces, to the opened button - this clearly was a calamity. The panic fell off of his face, and he sighed.

"Which servant dressed you?" Arthur asked immediately as he stopped in front of his new Master, expression hardening out of his annoyance. No 'hello', no 'good morning, sir, I will have the pleasure of working for you'. Straight to business, and alongside that, displeasure. "I'm afraid that I shall have to have them removed right away for their appalling job."

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Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

Post by King of Spades on Thu Jul 12, 2012 1:02 pm

(Sorry, was ill ;w;)

The moment the new guy opened his mouth Alfred could tell that he wasn't from the same region. Heck, he was from a different country as well, what with his accent sounding all English. It was hard to tell these days, what with many upper class people trying to mimic an English accent, but this one actually sounded authentic. However, what struck him the most was how straightforward the new servant was. From the very first impression Alfred hadn't expected him to come up to him, straightening his attire, and go straight to business.

The young master was struck dumb for a moment, for a moment he had lost his ability to speak, and was reduced to just staring down at the other's dark lashes and then those green eyes. Alfred was pissed off. Definitely pissed off. The least he needed was a control freak servant thinking he could take over his life.

"Well," he answered with a smirk, "You'll have to fire me then." He took another deep pull on his cigar and blew the smoke right in front of the new butler. He felt like a petulant child, but decided to ignore that notion.

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Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

Post by Omega Arthur on Thu Jul 12, 2012 2:29 pm

(That's okay sweetie! Take care of yourself ;w; )

Upon that reply, Arthur cocked a finely haired (but thick) brow. He exhaled the smoke that Alfred had blown in his face and presented him with a scowl, before he finished straightening Alfred's clothing and took a step back to regard him - merely to check whether or not everything about Alfred's attire was 'proper' again. Satisfied, he gave a tut and shook his head. "Pardon me if I caused offence," Arthur muttered. "But no, that will not do. Whatever does your staff do with their time? Would be useful if they got off of their arses and did their job... Excuse me, I should put these down."

He shuffled his groceries into both of his arms now, instead of the arm-and-hip grip he had been using, and stepped into the kitchen. He barely regarded the cook, meticulously working away on the Master's snack, and deposited his groceries on the counter. He would have to deal with that later - especially with the issue of why on Earth the chef was cooking a meal, now, at this time. Once that was finished, Arthur came back to the door and stood on the step while gazing out at his Master.

What took him most was how young he was. When he heard of how critical of his servants the male got, he had assumed automatically that he had been - say - in his late thirties. It would have been lovely if his technical employers (they had hired him for the Master's sake, after all) had warned him at all about the age or personality of the man he would have to deal with. No matter. Surely he was good enough to deal with these unexpected circumstances.

"You'll be Master Jones, yes? I take that from your conduct. If you were a servant, it probably would have been more acceptable for you to be dressed so inappropriately for your status," Arthur scoffed, clearly very put off about the way the male presented himself. Heaven forbid it. "My name is Arthur Kirkland. At your service, sir."

He gave a slight bow. Etiquette was the darnedest thing.

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Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

Post by King of Spades on Fri Jul 13, 2012 11:32 am

Alfred's mouth twitched at the way his new servant presented himself— he was fucking nuts! There he was looking all unintimidating, but the moment those monster brows furrowed and that mouth opened, a whole new person stood in front of him. Alfred rose his hand to massage his forehead, feeling a headache coming up. His relatives chose a special kind of pest. "Could you just, I don't know, keep your mouth shut for a moment? I liked you better as a mute pretty doll," he groaned.

He had followed the other inside, barely noticing the groceries, and had the instant urge to escape. Also, it was almost comical how Arthur, so that was his name, could spew a nasty word vomit and at the same time also following etiquette. "Okay, Arthur. Nice to meet you and let's hope we won't have to deal with each other for very long. And now, you have two options. One, we could both live in this huge mansion without torturing each other. We'll just ignore each other's existence and all is fine and dandy!" His grin was huge, liking the prospect of being left alone. "Your second option is to be a butler just how my relatives told you to be. But...I'll make sure to treat you like shit, and don't expect me to see you as any other than a personal slave. I'd do the first option if I were you."

The cook pointedly ignored any eye contact between the master or the newly hired butler, the last thing he wanted was to find himself on the line of fire.

"Anyway," said Alfred with a shrug, "I'll be upstairs in my study doing nothing. And I'll give you some time to ponder over which decision to make. Bring me my dinner and we'll talk." And with those words he snapped those fixed braces, causing them to loosen again and shot Arthur a cocky grin. He turned with a mocking wave and left with cheerful steps.

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Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

Post by Omega Arthur on Sun Jul 22, 2012 10:35 am

It was a little bit funny, actually, watching Alfred. The man acted like a self-important child; as if his own indulgences were the most important and that everyone around him was to faciliate that. As a nobleman, perhaps that was almost true - of his servants, at least - but what about other people? As well as presenting themselves to perfection themselves, Butlers were meant to make sure that their Master's held proper conduct at all times. Alfred, however, seemed to be more occupied with doing whatever he wanted instead.

Well, he'll make a man out of him yet.

The young man's words were like a dare. Either ignore each other's existence, or they would have a very unpleasant time indeed. My, how tempting both options sounded. But he would have to decline the former. A Kirkland does his job, and a Butler does it well. So, he wanted to regard him as a personal slave and therefore meaningless? Hah, two could play at that game. It was quite obvious that Alfred intended to ignore his advice at practically every turn.

Therefore, he would do everything he could to make sure that Alfred certainly could not avoid it. Oh, he did get excited over battles of sheer wit.

As Alfred walked off, Arthur released him for now. Preparations for his food must be made, and Arthur would be the one to indulge him. Time to give the cook new directions - a reversal of instructions. Never mind what the blasted Master of the House calls for. The Butler was uniquely qualified to change the rules and do what is best. And by gum, he would. Arthur gathered the groceries he had obtained from the market earlier, and explained to the chef was he would like him to prepare.

He cast his eyes back to where Alfred had just been, and smiled lightly. If he was not mistaken, he would very much enjoy it here...

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Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

Post by King of Spades on Mon Jul 23, 2012 9:51 pm

Alfred landed face first on the sofa in his study with a groan. Only when breathing had become difficult did he turn his head to peer into the darkness of his spacious study. The truth was that even though Alfred had a large study, completely stuffed with books and office equipments, he never did any work. The thought of his lazy life made him smile— it was a life of pleasure, girls and making other people grimace at his insufferable character.

Personally, Alfred thought he was a hero. Nothing better than making the phony people clad in dead animals' furs suffer. And the butlers sent to him were living symbols of greedy people trying to control him. And there was nothing he hated more than manipulation of his freedom.

Finally, he turned to lay on his back with a sigh. Staring at the ceiling he felt himself growing tired as his eyes fluttered close. He hoped Arthur wouldn't appear just yet as he was in no mood to deal with him now. Firstly, he needed some sleep.

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Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

Post by Omega Arthur on Mon Aug 13, 2012 9:28 am

There was a small bell, chiming as if to announce something grander than the arrival of the Master's meal, but that was what the bell was for. None of the other servants ever used it, and the bells throughout the house shook dust off of their metallic sides as they reverberated. Then there was a creaking to the stairs just before Alfred's study, and then a tell-tale knock. In stalked Arthur, looking just as prim and proper as before - only this time, his windswept straw-coloured hair was combed back neatly out of his pallid face. He stood with perfect posture, white napkin hung over his arm as he held it to his waist.

This was his decision. Risk it. Let Alfred treat him like he was nothing. He was just going to retaliate if Alfred so much as did a thing. His family would likely side with him - after all, he was acting with Alfred's best interests in mind. He smirked a little too politely as he gestured towards the doorway he had just come from.

"If you would like to follow me, Sir," Arthur said, looking rather pleased with himself. The smell of cooking wafted inside, freshly made and ready for Alfred's attention. "Your meal is in the dining room." Oh yes, no more ridiculous snacking. Alfred would do as he was told, to sit in a dignified place.

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Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

Post by King of Spades on Sat Aug 18, 2012 11:00 am

Alfred was pretty unceremoniously startled awake, and judging by the ticking clock on his worktable, he hadn't even been asleep for more than ten lousy minutes. The new butler was standing by the door with a shit-eating grin, making Alfred want to groan and plant his face against the cushion of his couch. Those eyes and that grin were akin to an answer towards Alfred's earlier given options. They were not going to ignore each other.

Alfred almost chuckled. Well, Mr. Kirkland just had to face the nasty consequences then. Oh how he was going to have big fun making the butler's life hell. He was an adult man, but he had this special talent wherein he could become one problematic brat. That Arthur really brought it upon himself.

His silent snickers were shortlived however, since he thought he didn't really catch what Arthur had said. "Erm, hello? In the dining room? I told you to bring my meal up here in my study. Do I look like I'm in the mood of walking?" Everything he needed was a snack while he was halfway curled up on his couch, reading the newest scientific magazine. He never asked for a smartass butler, who didn't bring him his food as desired. Well, he had mentioned his outstanding brat acting ability before, but this time he wasn't even acting. When it came to food, he was really a whiny brat. Even though he was reluctant about admitting it to himself.

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Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

Post by Omega Arthur on Sat Aug 18, 2012 12:23 pm

Arthur pretended that Alfred's objections were news to him. Oh, what was that sir? You think that you should be allowed to laze about and eat whence you stand like some sort of commoner? Have a handful of bread and butter and hold it in your hands, ripping it with your teeth, like some sort of savage? Have you no decency! He allowed the mocking shock appear on his face, and he cunningly widened his eyes. "Pardon me, Sir?!" Arthur said in disdain, pressing a hand to his upper chest and giving a gasp that teetered on the real. After all, it was a true offence to etiquette. "You wished to eat here? In a stuffy office? No, no! That shan't do. Not at all, you shall dine in the dining room like an adult or the Cook will have to feed the scraps to the dogs."

His mocking ceased, and he put his hands on his hips. A near superior smile appeared on that foxly and sly face of his, creasing those cheeks till slight dimples appeared. He was not a weighty man by all means, barely a pound was on him, but it seemed that his darker smiles had a twinge of sweetness to them as well. A taste of saccharine. His hip cocked to the side and it looked like he barely noticed his quirked pose as he enjoyed his little moment.

Finally he tossed the first few layers of hair back out of his eyes, and he stepped into the room - giving yet another curt bow and positioning his arms to point his way towards the only feasible exit. "I wouldn't want you to starve, Master Jones," he hinted. Of course, if Alfred continued to refuse coming along then that may be precisely what he would do.

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Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

Post by King of Spades on Sun Aug 19, 2012 1:08 pm

He couldn't believe this nutter. It was an open war declaration, and it didn't look like Alfred was the only one in possession of the weapons. And he didn't like that.

While Alfred despised anything to do with him being associated with any of those phony upper class bullshit, he couldn't hide the rage of a broken pride. Also, did Arthur have to be so cocky about it? Pulling off that smirk and showing off those...hips. Like, that was totally unnecessary and inappropriate. It wasn't like Alfred particularly noticed, the pose was simply too striking to ignore. Any other person would have reacted to that as well, obviously.

Would he look too much like a loser if he stood up without a word and leave for the dining room? Well, it was probably the only way to save the little bit of dignity that was still left on him. He passed the butler and sent a vicious glare his way.

"You will suffer for this," he hissed through gritted teeth.

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Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

Post by Omega Arthur on Sun Aug 19, 2012 2:10 pm

"Will I?" Arthur asked softly. It was quite clear that he was mocking him, by maintaining a soothing tone with no hint of sincerity at all. He was unafraid by Alfred's threat. After all, he was only a Butler - and he was doing, technically, his job. To the greatest degree, mind. So if Alfred tried to get someone from the outside to help him, what was he supposed to say? My Butler won't let me eat whenever I want like an indecent pig? Oh no. He did not think so, Master Jones.

He was actually quite handsome when he looked annoyed like that. Like he wanted to lash out, but even he was too proper for it. Who would lay a vicious hand on their Butler? Maid, yes. Servant, yes. But Butler? No.

"You see, Master..." Arthur said, stepping in front of him to 'lead' the way towards Alfred's own dining room - a room that Arthur had only recently discovered in his house - walking with a sway in his hips. The Butler's tailcoat stopped Alfred having a good view of his lower-half, though the clear curvature of his effeminate hip structure showed through nonetheless. Even if he was an unbearably proud man when it came to beating someone at their own game, changing the underdog to 'over-dog', there was no denying that he was nice to look at. If he could have been turned into porcelain and miniaturised, he would look dashing on the mantelpiece.

"This may be your house, and previously your servants were made to answer to you. But as long as I am here, they answer to me, and I will in turn utilise them to serve you. Therefore, whatever decisions I make are irrefutable in this household. They are told to obey me. Meanwhile, I also have the power to override instructions that you have given them. To put it entirely simple, Master Jones, you are in my hands..." Arthur explained, before his eyelids lowered and he gave a snarky look over his shoulder. "Which won't change unless your family decide to get rid of me. But why ever would they do that, when I'm going to do you so much good?"

After all, his family wanted this for him as much as he did. Oh, sweet joys. What a brilliant first day.

As the Briton's eyes raked over Alfred's form for a second, allowing himself the momentary distraction from his hard-working duties, he led Alfred to the dining room - which was brimming full of tender smells of beef and vegetables and gravy. A combination that Arthur was fond of. The smell came from the decoratively finished bowl of stew set out for Alfred in his typical seat - he asked the servants about that one - accompanied with slices of bread, topped with butter and parsley, freshly tugged from the sprig. Simple, but it would do. Numerous sets of cutlery was laid out for Alfred's needs, spoons and knifes and forks spilling out from the table-top centre-point via each available direction.

Arthur gave a bow and pulled his chair back for him. "Is there anything I could get for you, sir? I have the morning paper and your mail already prepared."

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Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

Post by King of Spades on Mon Aug 27, 2012 3:02 pm

Alfred had managed to detach himself from the things the other was saying as he followed him to the dining room. It was easier to ignore those honey coated words that were at the same time digging into his flesh like sharp blades. That was the reason why he chose to blend everything out and why he kept looking at everything except for the British butler. The wallpaper of the hallway was faded, maybe he needed to replace it— he'd never liked the Burgundy colour anyway. And the carpet was hideous as well. It was too soft beneath his feet and too dark for the already gloomy surrounding. Yes, he only needed to distract himself from the annoying things Arthur was saying and he would be fine without snapping and giving the other the satisfaction.

But then Arthur was swaying his hips in that sinful manner again, and the way he walked was almost soundless. Alfred's eyes were drawn back from the ugly carpet to the other's walking form. Did he even know what he was doing? The young master licked his lips, suddenly sensing that they had gone dry.

He was about to yank his mind back to the old wallpaper and carpet when Arthur began talking about rules. He was talking about his power within the household— and did he mention something about Alfred being in his hands?

The arrogant blond sent him a perverse look, making Alfred's anger boil even more. Such insolence in his very own house!

He was led to the dining table, which was a long one for formal society dinners, and his meal was placed on the lone end. It looked mouth-watering, but Alfred had long lost his appetite. The patience in him was already wearing thin, and what had been meant to be a fun war became a serious issue to the young master.

"One more thing," he said in a calm tone. Alfred turned to face the butler, not even bothering to take the offered seat, and revealed his angry expression. His eyes were ablaze and looked about ready to stare everything to death.

He closed the gap between them, and with one swift motion he had grabbed the other man's wrist, then without missing a beat, Arthur's back was already pressed down against table top.

The meal next to him was miraculously untouched.

Alfred growled and bent his body over the offending butler. He kept his grip tightly around Arthur's wrist. The surprised man's harsh breathing reached and tickled his skin. "You can play the game all you want. You can be my family's dog for all I care. But there's one thing that you can never have, and that is power over me."

Alfred's other hand slammed on the wooden surface, effectively caging the butler without a chance to escape.

"My family may still have a say, but they are by no means lords over my life! And even though I'm young, I'm still the master of this Name! I despise those who try to set rules over me like I was some wild beast to be tamed so that it could be thoroughly exploited."

He never wanted to stoop so low as to become borderline physically violent. But this man had triggered his rage.

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Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

Post by Omega Arthur on Tue Aug 28, 2012 9:04 am

He knew that he had been pissing his new master off. He knew that Alfred was likely very annoyed with him. He knew that his Master would be harsh and difficult to him for the next few days at least. He expected it - nay, strived for it. However, when he was grabbed and slammed into the table, Arthur realised that he never would have predicted that. He had never heard anything of a Butler being physically threatened before - either because their Masters were too wary to dare, or did not care enough to before violent over it. Maybe other Butlers were never as pushy as he was.

Needless to say, as Alfred squeezed his hand around his wrist and kept him jolly-well boxed in, Arthur could not take his eyes off of him - gasping lightly as his veins pumped with adrenaline and his Master's irritated eyes glared over him in return. There was something odd about this that Arthur could not put his finger on. A thrill that he did not think he had experienced before. An, if he were honest, attraction. Something about Alfred leaning over him like this, pushing him down like this... it... excited him. He convinced himself that it was merely a reaction to his teasing being challenged so forcefully. The game, as it were, was on.

He wished he could say something daring. 'I hope you never dismiss me, Jones, because as soon as you do your reputation could be tarnished from that move alone', or 'I expect you to unhand me, Sir, else I'll make sure your dinners for the next month are served cold'. But he couldn't. All that escaped his lips were a small, wordless crackle.

Had he gotten under your skin, Alfred? Because there was more where that came from. Don't think that this threat would be the end of this.

When he found his voice, Arthur swallowed the thick lump in his throat and gave Alfred a forced smile - one that stretched his lips in a way that didn't really suit him. "Yes, yes. Do not do yourself harm, Sir. I was merely trying to facilitate for your... needs. However your needs clearly still need to be met with discipline," he gestured to their situation. What self-respecting man would lay a hand on a Butler, really?! Only Jones. Only Alfred. "I'd offer to teach you, but I think you should unhand me, Master - before I write quite a stern letter to your relatives."

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Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

Post by King of Spades on Tue Aug 28, 2012 12:02 pm

Alfred immediately bolted away, releasing his tight grip, and stared at his hands in horror. What had he done? Not once in his life had he ever become violent, not even towards the common servants. Something in him just snapped and an unnamed pent up frustration had broken free, so he lost control over his actions. Guilt welled up in him, manifested itself as small beads of sweat on his temple and neck that trickled down his skin, leaving sensations of both hot and cold.

For the very first time he couldn't find the words to say. The expression of rage was replaced by one of confusion, blue eyes were uncomprehending. It took him quite some time to come off of the initial shock, but he did manage to regain his composure, eventually. The young master ran his fingers through his blond locks and cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry...forgive me for that." His gaze wandered off to fixate the food on the table. "I was taken over by rage and it shouldn't have happened."

He turned to straighten his shirt, just so he didn't have to look Arthur in the eye. Those eyes that hadn't shown fear, only a fascinated glimmer in a meadow of green. It made Alfred feel sick and yet excited- when was the point where those eyes would show fear?

"But you shouldn't just stare at someone, doing nothing, when you're threatened. Generally, I mean."

Alfred finally took a seat, finally ready for some food to fill his empty and upset stomach.

"Also, I think writing an angry letter about me doesn't fit your sophisticated way," he added with a cheeky smirk.

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Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

Post by Omega Arthur on Tue Aug 28, 2012 12:25 pm

What was this? Arthur watched him in fascination as his Master pulled away from his form and stared at his hands as if they had just recited a whole Shakespearian play in French. He flitted his jumbled locks out of his face and he carefully pulled himself off of the table - thank goodness there was no tablecloth and it was only Alfred's meal that was present, Heaven forbid such an occurrence happen if the table was buxom with goods. His hands fussily and frantically tried to straighten out his suit and its lapels, making sure that he was entirely presentable.

"Perhaps you're right. But then again - by your reaction, I don't believe that slamming your senior staff member into a table suits your 'way' very much either," Arthur sighed, looking back at Alfred with a notch of uncertainty. He had only just met the man, but the way that he looked at his hands as if in horror for his actions, and better yet, apologised indicated that he was right about that being out of character for the young Master.

He checked himself for any more damage - he had to strive to be presentable in front of his Master - but did that rule continue if it was the Master that got him in the dishevelled state to begin with? Arthur sighed, and ran his hand through his hair almost nervously. They never tell you about people like Alfred when you are trained. Truth be told, he was getting a little bit bothered by this. Ah, the impenetrable wall of the Butler was cracking. Emotions were not meant to be exposed. He was a facilitator of Alfred's, nothing more...

"Erm, right... The paper, sir, and the mail," he wandered over to the serving table and pulled out the day's paper, and he took out a small stack of unopened mail as well. He placed it on the table in front of Alfred and his many pieces of unneeded cutlery for a simple stew. He then conjured a tiny bell from the serving table and placed it there too.

"In case you require me, Sir. If I do not hear, I'll be in the servant's eatery. I have my own dinner to deal with, after all," he assured Alfred, bending over the table to give it a little ring before he offered Alfred a smile and went to leave.

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Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

Post by King of Spades on Tue Aug 28, 2012 6:58 pm

Alfred chuckled. True, getting violent wasn't his way, no matter how much he didn't give a shit about his butler. He'd been eating his stew with idle slurps and bites, his mind too distracted to concentrate on the food only. Everything Arthur said was responded with a nod, he was not yet in the mood for another fight for dominance. Heh, a fight of dominance, was it?

He decided against calling for Arthur for the remainding of the night. Normally, he would have demanded to be assisted in even the simplest task just for the hell of it and to piss his butlers off. But not tonight. Everything could wait until tomorrow. Which was why he was preparing his bath on his own, watching the water fill the tub and steam spread all over the bathroom and clouding his vision. He climbed into the bathtub and savoured the relaxing effect. At the same time he was also reading the paper and even the mails he didn't care about.

Later on he had problems to actually fall asleep as he was still plagued by the ghost of his earlier actions. He'd always been annoyed by the numbers of butlers sent to him, but not one was able to actually get to him.

Arthur was an invasion in his house. And he didn't like that. Not one bit.

"So, please tie my shoelaces," said Alfred the next morning when Arthur had come to wake him up; he sat there cross-legged with untied shoes and looked at the other expectantly.

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Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

Post by Omega Arthur on Tue Aug 28, 2012 11:48 pm

It had been a tense night for Arthur. After his meal - quite lousy rations of bread and a little bit of spare meat from the Master's chopped steak - he had been following Alfred, albeit remaining out of the way in the next room along. Just in case he rang. Considering he had dismissed himself earlier, it would have been bad manners to intrude without invitation to, again, today. By the late hours, and even as he heard Alfred run a bath for himself, Arthur started to wonder if Alfred had even taken his bell with him. Perhaps he was needed but Alfred had no way of contacting him? But no - after a quick examination of the dining hall, it seemed that Alfred had taken it after all. Though not the mail, mind. His Master was refusing his services for now. Something that would have made any Butler's heart ache.

Knowing that he was not needed, he took an early sleep in the sleeping quarters - but not before allocating jobs for all of the staff members to do the next morning. That was a weight off his mind. Now all he needed was to worm his way back into the Master's good books. Somehow, Alfred would need to depend on him. Oh, why did he have to be so bloody stubborn yesterday?

The next day, Arthur was up bright and early to make sure the staff remembered their duties, clad in another black tail-coat suit. He fussed over his unruly hair for possibly the fifth time this minute in one of the looking-glasses in the hall, before ascending to the Master's bedroom to - albeit nervously - awake his scornful owner. Things did not really go to plan, in Arthur's eyes.

As Alfred asked him to tie his shoelaces, who was Arthur to not oblige? He sighed softly and descended to the floor, fitting the shoe to his Master's foot. "You really should not wear this colour with that suit, Sir," he numbly told him, and scrutinised the shoe for scuffs and marks that a servant's polishing could fix. He carefully started to tie the lace, making entirely sure that the lace was taut. "It'll be a bit tight for the first few steps, but I assure you it will be a comfortable fit during the day."

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Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

Post by King of Spades on Mon Sep 03, 2012 2:34 pm

Alfred watched Arthur do the work with great interest. His eyes were focused on the other man only, the newspaper in his hand not nearly as entertaining as the sight below him. As he was leaning back with his head lazily titled and supported by the back of his hand, he absorbed the details of his new butler.

Arthur was once again meticulously dressed. He even managed to maintain his sharp posture, disregarding the kneeling position of a less gratifying task. And even though he was in full dress, covered from around the neck and downwards, Alfred was able to trace the man's body shape with his eyes and a bit of fantasy. Why, he never anticipated that the devil was such a pleasure to behold.

And even though the sight of Arthur was making him feel an almost uncontrollable rage, it was also the source of a new-found desire. Alfred could laugh at himself. On one hand he wanted to slam Arthur against the wall and break his arrogance, but on the other hand...

There was a decorative cane resting against the wall next to the chair he was seated. Alfred reached for it, the expensive silver handle was cool as his fingers curled around it; the black metal shaft was long enough to reach the kneeling butler. Alfred used the walking stick to tip Arthur's chin— one slight press was enough to raise Arthur's head, granting the master a look at the servant's bewitching eyes.

Alfred smirked.

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Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

Post by Omega Arthur on Tue Sep 04, 2012 1:10 am

As the tip of Alfred's cane touched his chin, Arthur helped the movement along by looking up questioningly at his Master. Seeing his Master hold the cane to his face and smirk in that alluring but maleficent way piqued Arthur's curiosity. What was Alfred trying to do? The emerald green eyes narrowed thoughtfully, trying to identify a cause or a motive. Looking down at Alfred's shoes without moving his jaw, it looked like he had done a good job - they were tight and symmetrically done. What possible thing would Alfred have to argue about?

He opened his mouth to speak, but only air came out as he watched his Master even more intently. His hips swayed as he positioned himself, kneeling on his legs. From this angle, Arthur could see the whole of Alfred's body before it came to that, frankly, attractive visage. His body was no disappointment, unaligned from his face, either. Now that he thought of it, Alfred was a very handsome individual. He would make a wife proud one day, Arthur was certain. Without realising, Arthur licked his lips. A slight sheen of saliva made them shine in the oil-lamp light.

Arthur tore his eyes away and coughed once into his hand, as if the simple action would change the mood. It was very quiet between them now, motionless silence barricading them apart. Finally Arthur spoke first, not moving from his knelt position more or less between Alfred's legs. "Is there something you require of me, Sir?" The British Butler asked, appearing eager for instruction. Something to break this tension, sir, Arthur internally begged.

In the midst of the silence, Arthur's heartbeat slowly begun to race.

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Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

Post by King of Spades on Tue Sep 04, 2012 6:33 am

Alfred only released a deep purr, barely audible even though the room of tension was dead silent. Swiftly, with an expert motion, the cane was twirled in his hand and the silver handle, round and smooth, was now pressing against Arthur's cheek. The small silver globe with its carving of the world rotated on the smooth surface of Arthur's skin and glided down towards his neck. Alfred played with the other's collar, expressing his curiousity about what was underneath.

He felt sick the moment he noticed that, well yes, his trousers had gotten a little bit tight around his leg. Because having Arthur in such a subordinate position was giving him a sense of power over the other, and it filled his heart with immense satisfaction, especially after the stunt of last night. He wanted to show Arthur that he wasn't made to be ruled by others. It was just a small lesson, nothing to satiate his own desires. Not at all.

Oh well, maybe a little bit. Arthur was making his head go crazy with every move he made.

The orb was now rubbing over the butler's chest and moved down, slowly and tauntingly, as if Alfred was teasing himself out of a masochistic whim, albeit clearly, the only thing he longed to do was rip those layers of fabric in half.

He wondered when Arthur was going to move away in disgust.

Alfred stared at those moist lips, and almost in a hypnotic trance he was already moving the cane down towards the other man's groin.

"Indeed...I require something," he purred.

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Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

Post by Omega Arthur on Tue Sep 04, 2012 7:09 am

"Erm," Arthur's mouth begun to go dry as he was searched by the ball of the cane, stroking over his many features - from his cheekbones to his collar, to the tie and dipping into the waistcoat that he wore. By the time that the cane had moved down towards his crotch, Arthur knew for certain that Alfred was trying to pull something. He did not move, however, cursing at his Master's absurdity. Perhaps this was... some sort of test? To see how loyal he was?

"What is it that you, er..." Gosh, he could barely swallow. His eyelids lowered from Alfred's face and started to lazily explore the man's physique in front of him. It was now that his mind finally started to fill in gaps, imagining what Alfred's figure would be like without those breeches or lapels. The thought made Arthur flustered. He glanced down at the floor and took in a deep breath - one that shook his core, trembling in the exhale. "...Require?"

He was not a religious man. He had never had been. But needless to say, an attraction to a man was not seen as lawful. It was punishable by death in many places. England was just as intolerant in these modern times. Not to mention, an attraction to a servant was just as vulgar, just as being attracted to one's Master was a punishable taboo. Yet, he found himself indulging in a picture fuelled by his quite vivid imagination of Alfred asking him to... respond inappropriately to some advances.

He knew he had attraction to men the day that he started to become aroused by men of power. His teachers, mainly. But then it extended to the students as well. It felt like a epidemic, where one by one, men contracted this disease that made him see them in a new way. He had been trying to beat it out of himself for months, years.

He was stupid. Why had he given his service to a bachelor in the first place? It was bound to happen. He couldn't be trusted.

It did not explain why...

"Sir, pardon me. This might be absolutely out of place, but..." Arthur sighed and he pushed the cane away from him. "Are you--Are you... per chance..." He could not find a round-about way to put it. "Coming onto me?"

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Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

Post by King of Spades on Tue Sep 04, 2012 2:47 pm

Alfred liked the smell of something forbidden and unspeakable in the air. It made him feel so powerful as he liked to prove his sovereignity by breaking little taboos of the world; he'd started doing that since he was just a kid. Call it his rebellious trait or simply childish sadism, he didn't care as long as he felt he was the one holding the rein.

When he was a child he skipped music lessons and refused to sleep on time. His adult self bought women for his pleasure, and since prostitutes turned out to be quite normal in the circle of gentlemen, he turned to buy himself men for his needs. And he was intrigued by the fact that he preferred screwing men over women. Sharing moments of passion in the most forbidden way made him the king on top of the world.

And he was currently feeling this thrill once again.

Then Arthur was asking him that question and his smirk could only widen. "Do you have a problem with that? I appreciate a beautiful man more than a beautiful woman," he explained. As if to prove his point he added more pressure with a single push on his cane.

"I want to make mess up your flawless appearance...is that a bad thing to wish for?"


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Re: Simply One Hell of A Butler

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