Chapter Five: The White Earl

Shop had closed but three hours prior... the current time, which Smee checked with his little silver-chained pocket watch read to be 9 sharp. In his elaborate chair, he waited, illuminated by the glow of the tall wax candle he'd once more lit.

Veuliam Roland, his master of Holy descent, was to arrive within the next hour... Smee was tasked with welcoming the Angel to perfect circumstances, as expected from a fine butler... briefly, the image of the Demon Earl and his black butler came to mind at the thought of perfection.

They, against all odds would of course have perfection - after all, they are more inhuman than I.

Smee took up a screwdriver from the leather pad on which the bone hands had lain, fastening a small rod to a pitted joint he'd bore into the bones. the new hands where nearly complete... and the redhead hoped to high heaven that he could finish them in time for tonight - his master would be a key aspect of having them actually work. Unseen strings of the Undead Marrionette would be replaced with the ones of his current hands to those of the new.

Veuliam knew of his project, and hadn't reprimanded him for such troubles, so he had seemingly high hopes... though it was better to doubt, he had learned early on.

A tight squeak from the rod's new joint gave hint that it was finished, and he fastened the other end to the leather cuff he had made up of one of the two straps.

That was the last one for both of his newly crafted hands of skeletal origin...

He bared sharp canine teeth in a smile, and the candlelight playing on his face gave an almost eerie cast to his features.

They're finally finished.

Standing, he straightened out his little work area on his desk, and brushed off the shavings of bone from his pants, but not without consequences. Sharp pinpricks of pain toyed at the joints of his hands and arms, as well as his neck, making the undead toymaker whimper a little.

His glassy eyes flickered in the candle light as he gazed around the shop, pleased with it. He had organized the toys once again, and refurbished those that had become imperfect.

Upstairs, he had cleaned as well, save for a particularly eerie corner, and in the main shop where he stood, the floor had been swept and the windows polished. it was clean... Well presented, but dark. once his master would walk through the door, he would incite a spell to set the candles around the room and the candelabrum above to lit flame.

As long as heat existed, or a single flame or spark, he could set an entire floor to flame. If enough existed, he could set a whole building to devastation in a fiery blaze.

Though tonight, he only needed the candles lit. Master Veuliam was to arrive for a bimonthly visit tonight... as busy as his Master was, he was honored to acquire the company of the Angel at his own shop for once, for usually Smee was called to the Maner for such events.

A small at it around his shop brought him to the forefront window, and he leaned on its frame, peering out at the oil lamp lit streets, watching... waiting for a carriage this late at night.

Mere minutes passed before Smee found himself welcoming the carriage to his part of the walkway. outside it was bitter, and a fog characteristic of London had settled as night had come.

He opened the carriage door, and stepped back to stand beside the door, peering inside with his glass gaze fixed on the single internal figure.

"Earl Roland. I am thinking this was your destination for tonight... a pleasure to have you."

The Angel within seemed to nod, a faint twitch of his silhouette's head. After such, a silvery-white gloved hand was extended, and the Hybrid Doll took it up, unable to deny the odd pulse that calmed his pains for a moment ad he led Veuliam from the carriage, and onto the pathway.

His cape bellowed a bit in a brief gust, as did the tails of his coat, and his hair, but he nonetheless took a step back, placing a heeled foot behind the other, and extending one arm to a slight diagonal beside him, and the other was placed over his nonexistent heart as he bowed, his feathered tail fanning beneath the tails of his coat.

"My Lord...", he breathed the words in respectful tone, and rose to peer at the hermaphrodite Angel.

Though Veuliam hid it well, he kept mainly to a male perspective of appearance, key to his rank in society. After all, he was an Earl.

He dressed and acted as one, and had apparently distinguished himself over the generations - however else, Smee couldn't imagine, for he knew to be such a rank came with time and heritage - as a man nicknamed the White Earl.

It was a suiting name, considering that his Angelic Master lived up to his purity.

Not only in that aspect was Veuliam the White Earl, but also in his very look. He donned a stunning cut of silken white hair that came to his shoulderblades in the back, and caressed his chest in the front. It was well cared for, and had a pleasant sheen. His skin was pale and without complexity as far as one could tell, and he seemed to be an albino through and through, though his eyes where more lavender in shade than pink or blue. but it made sense, and the Angelic Earl made it a point to play on this scheme of colors he naturally posessed.

"Let's head inside... we don't want your wooden frame rotting and your joints rusting in this fog, now do we?"

Veuliam's words where rhetorical, but required the serving toymaker to answer in some fashion. Smee nodded and led his master to the shop's door, and as he welcomed Veuliam within, he used a simple incantation whispered under the sound of the opening door to bring every candle in the room aglow with flames.

"Sir, I have news to tell. Urgent, at that."

Veuliam eyes him skeptically, but motioned for his undead butler to continue with it.

"The demon Earl and Butler have invited me for recruitment."