Horologe ⚚ [Maximum Ride/Black Butler]

Chapter VI

The first thing that came to mind the second I laid my unbarfed-chocolate eyes upon this supposed 'young master' character, the head honcho himself, were these three blessed words: snooty little bastard.

Because, in all honesties, he just fit that description perfectly. The 'snooty' bit especially.

There mister-boss-man was, sittin' there all prim on his cushy, too-big chair, eyeing me with his haughty little blues, nostrils practically glued to the ceiling. The minute I saw his board-straight posture and groomed-to-perfection everything, I knew the kid had a stick so far shoved up his ass, it probably stabbed into his blue-blooded brain cells with every step he took. Unless he was carried around everywhere on a gigundous pillow or something, because in this snot's case, that seemed totally possible.

"Sebastian," he started, immediately sending the lengthy butler to his knees. Even better aiding my snootalator assumptions, the boy had a British accent. The uber-ripened cherry on top of a double-scoop of your average everyday, stereotypical snob. "This is the trespasser from the previous nigh, I presume?"

Sebastian dipped his head in a respectful nod. "Indeed, milord." Gracefully, he rose from his crouch-like bow and gestured to me with a swoop of his arm. "I regret to inform that I did not acquire knowledge of this child's name, however."

"And that's perfectly fine," I cut in loudly. "Because, to be honest, you don't really need to know."

'Milord's' eyes snapped over to me, lips forming a tight line. "What are you called, urchin?" he demanded, tone sharp and ever-British.

"A great many things," I began, nonchalant as I waved a hand back and forth. "Some nicer than others." Then, processing what the little shit just referred to me as, one of my brows shot for the sky. "And urchin? Are you effing kidding me? Is that really the best you can come up with? I know that my personality is moderately prickly at best, and I have gills and all, but really? That lame comparison is bringing tears to my eyes."

Sebastian glanced over to me, giving that disgustingly fake, Vogue-worthy smile of his. "Young miss, I suggest you cease the insolent snark-filled comments immediately, because it very well won't help your situation whatsoever. Feigning tears are so much better than having real ones, wouldn't you agree?"

Glaring at the man's lead-on threat, I threw my arms up in the air. "...Ok, you know what, fine. You jerks win." I sighed in defeat. "My name is Eloise-Ann Roseberger HeitzenFuckYoustein Chovinski Smith. You may call me Lulu for short."

"Do I look like an idiot to you?" the Earl seethed. "That is the fakest name I've ever heard."

I pressed a hand to my heart. "You wound me, kind sir. Demanding my full, honest-to-goodness birth name, and then, poking fun at it all. How utterly rude. What nerve."

His navy orbs flashed, and it was kind of obvious that the kid was starting to get pissed off, teeth grinding against each other, "Stop this charade at once. No such surname is recorded, nor exists, for the matter, in all of England. And you better well believe that I have full proof of that."

"Who's to say I'm from England?" I was really going at it with the smart-ass comments, wasn't I?

Noticing that I was now at the end of receiving dark, dangerous looks from both master and butler alike, I slowly cleared my throat. "...It's Max," I said begrudgingly, letting out an irritated sigh. "I'm Max, ok? Impatient bastards."

"There we go," soothed Sebastian almost mockingly, steam-pressed smile showing clear satisfaction. "That wasn't too hard, now was it?"

"So your name is Max, hm?" the young bluenette pondered, eyebrows still somewhat narrowed. His voice was like haughty shards of ice. "Terribly unbefitting name, for a girl. I feel sorry for you."

Oh, so he wanted to turn this into that sort of conversation, huh?

"Really?" I said, faking enthusiasm. "Wow, you aren't a sexist piglet at all!" My toenails practically dug themselves into the ground as I stalked towards him and his stupid comfortable chair, grinning darkly. My tall frame loomed over them both. "Listen here, squirt. I named myself. You got a problem? You can tell it to the fist." I leaned down some, whispering, "Why don't you two get yourselves acquainted?"

Sebastian was between us mere seconds after I said that.

"That wouldn't be a wise decision, young miss," he said, giving a closed-eye smile. "I take it you value your life, yes?"

Immediately, I grabbed Sebastian by the knot of his tie and yanked him down, violently. "You know what, you should really stop with all this fucking 'young miss' BS. I've got a name, and it's Max. Use it."

_________________________________________________________________
More intense!Max woooot