[After the crash, it didn't take long for things to get dull for Sebastian. The facility's crash landing had absorbed most of his energy by the time it had made impact with the surface. Crawling out of the wreckage and protecting the ones that were required, in whatever deals he had in place, practically erased the fresh soul he had received just a month or so before. Hungry again, he did what he could to compensate in order to keep Ciel's Last Order in effect.

The area around the now sizable crater had been completely decimated. It forced survivors away from their comfort zone into the wilderness and while predators weren't that numerous there was the occasional wild beast and prey to be found. For a demon like Sebastian, hunting came easy. It's just he had no reason to do so without a purpose. Occasionally he would leave food for those left that had a deal but over time even that repetition had become pointless.

The clone sickness, without a cure, had begun to take effect slowly. One by one, survivors began to die. He would watch souls fade from around him like soft fading lights that had withered a long time ago once hope became lost. Medics started to die and without the means to produce a proper cure, the inevitable began to set in. Death was coming and even Sebastian knew that. Even the minor deal he had with Shikamaru was not enough. Without a will, the man was utterly useless to him and while he had tried for conversation or encouragement on occasion, Shikamaru had stopped talking all together. Sebastian began to stray from him, choosing to seek out others to pass the time but like everyone else, many did not last long.

With very few people left, he hadn't been surprised that he was one of the few remaining. Still, he felt weak, lost, somewhat confused, and mostly angry. The realization that he may never return to Victorian England was a heavy weight to bare. Even if he did, he would never get to feast on Ciel's soul. He wouldn't have the strength or Ciel's will to take down his true self in order to replace him. The final straw was when Madame had died. She had been a clone of his true feline at home and when the clone sickness took her, Sebastian had stopped moving all together. Often as a cat or a bird he would linger in the dead trees near the crash site, watching... but mostly waiting.

Oh, good afternoon Adstringendum. You've reached the private line of Sebastian Michaelis, the butler of the Phantomhive Esate. My apologizes for not addressing you personally. I'll be sure to get back to you when I have a moment. I ask that you be patient as you are put on hold. Thank you. Do have a good day.

Hello, Adstringendum. I trust you are well.

It's come to my attention that several of you have far too much free time on your hands and while most of you turn to destruction instead of something more productive, I think I might have something that'll take up at least an hour or two. That is, if you wish to indulge.

[Oh, it's sinister alright, or at least to Sebastian. He moves down, arms tucking underneath the arms of a mixed mutt of a puppy - a bit of german and holland shepard, plus some husky- that is far from purebreed and thus very distasteful to Sebastian. He lifts it so the PCD can see. ] This is Bane -

the Fluffy! [Sebastian twitched faintly at Undertaker popping up suddenly then disappearing behind him.] Ahem, as I was saying. This is a puppy, rather new to the household and while very full of energy and quite rude of me to ask I think I will either way.

Does anyone wish to play with him?

[The feed flicks on with a bit of a crunch as the PCD hits the ground and flicks on. With all these traps, things were certainly more exciting for the demon. His lips curl up into a smirk down at the PCD once he notices it is on.] Hello, Adstringendum.

[Out of the handstand to compensate for the sudden pitfall, he pushes up and onto his feet, crouching just in time to avoid the whipping tree branch coming his way.] I trust you are well. All too easy, don't you think? I wouldn't suggest coming near my house or leaving it unless you can handle a degree of traps in rapid succession.

Mister Ron Weasley, I must apologize for the degree of time it took for me to prepare the prototype, but the broom is ready. And to Mister Crane, I must apologize for the amount of time it took to find the proper metal and supples for the grill, but I have them now.

[He pauses at something else catching his attention] Count D, I think I'll stop over for tea. [Or to pet that sudden sabretooth tiger in the distance just in the front yard.] Oh my~ aren't you beautiful. I don't think I've seen your kind around here. Such paws, so big and r-[He's close enough to it when suddenly decides to pounce, knocking Sebastian over, muffling him successfully. The PCD goes flying out of his hand at the sudden attack.

And yes, Adstringendum, this big cat mauling does look familiar to the demon as that is the trap he just couldn't avoid]

Good afternoon Adstringendum. I trust you are well.

It seems last week that I picked up quite a bit of gentleman and ladies that were not mine. If you are missing your beloved feline, I may be the culprit. [Hear all those meows and soft cries of attention from behind him? Why yes, those are cats around his feet, wanting the food he’s setting down around him.] There’s nothing better than cats and I simply couldn’t help myself.

Most of them were Yodares but I took care that none of them mixed nor harmed each other. Feel free to come pick them up.

[His gloved hands hold a very unusual item for Sebastian once he stands, stepping away from them to sit down on a chair placed outside at Ciel’s an old outside lounging table. It’s an American cookbook] Onto the second matter of business. I have finally gotten around to reading some things I purchased at the mall when it was open for business so many months ago. Tell me, won’t you? What kind of American food interests you? There are so many receipes but most of them seem to be of other culture appetites except slightly changed in product. Hams and Roasts are quite common. It’s the other things that amuse me such as a hamburger...

[He flips a few pages] Battered fish and chips... Hamburgers.. deep dish pizzas? Mm, strange indeed. Must all the oil be necessary? [Lady, his blackish bluish fur mutt mixed of a cat leaps onto his chest, pawing at him] Ah, am I giving our audience to much attention? Very well then.

[ooc: >w> If you want Sebby to have kidnappedededed your cat, just feel free to play along]

[The PCD drops against the ground, craddling sideways before teetering. By the scene that flickers on, it's obvious the device is not in the city, but in the Wastes. By the flat heeled shoes worn by a certain Victorian butler it's clear the PCD has not been brought there by an animal or abandoned. Those feet leave the ground with a slight flutter of clothing and coat tails before disappearing again.

A falling hat replaces the current view, one several may recognize as belonging to the local victorian mortician. It spins a little from the way it is dropped until it settles, the long tail from the top drifting down around it. A familiar cackle echos from the direction the butler was heading.

Sebastian comes into view the moment he is far enough away from his PCD to view his entire profile. The butler's hands flex, bringing those nearly harmless knives to his hands. They are dislodged the minute he shoots his arms out, hands releasing the knives towards Undertaker. He's had enough of his poking fun having endured the teasing for more than a week now. If anything, he just wants the laughter to stop.

That laughter doesn't stop, cackles becoming more like giggles, as Undertaker moves better into view. The spade of his shovel grazes the ground before being brought up to deflect those thrown knives-- one slipping past him and embedding into the tail of his hat-- as he stands his ground before the demon butler.] Tem~per, Tem~per, Mister Butler.

[Sebastian's eyes narrow slightly at his mocking. He raises his fingers once more with a fresh set of knives and throws them at him. Again, the shovel deflects the thrown knives, one of them pinging off the metal and towards the PCD, hitting it. The image begins to flicker just as the butler leaps into the air, bringing his leg down to splinter the problematic shovel.

Just as the view starts to flicker more rapidly, it catches one final glimpse of the pair of fighters and Sebastian's leg being blocked by something long, white and etched with markings nestled firmly in the Undertaker's hands.]

[ooc: Replies will be one hour after this post to allow them to fight]

[The PCD crackles to life as he flicks it on, thumb resting against the edge. The thunder cracks above and the cat in his arms already skittish from all the weather leaps out the open window he was checking. Panic actually flashes across his face as he makes a grab at her and when she goes into the water, so does he, leaping in after her without a moment's hesitation. He's cold but it's hardly a concern when such a life is on the line. He pushes through the water, shoving floating things to the side.]

Lady! Lady!

[He keep calling her name even when she doesn't answer at first, the PCD crackling at the water from how he jammed it into his breast pocket. The meow he's been waiting for attracts his attention and there his beloved feline is on top of the chicken coop, cold and wet, frantically clinging to a wet surface. With a burst of speed, he's upon her, snatching her into his arms. Taking her into the water is unacceptable so he climbs up. The coop does not hold his weight for long as it crumbles underneath and with tight arms, he leaps onto the roof of the Phantomhive Manor. The claws in his neck aren't even an issue when he lowers back to the window]

Oh, my apologizes my Lady. I wasn't aware you were that afraid of the thunder. Let's get you cleaned and warmed, hmm?

Where is Solve?

[Is the first thing anyone will hear. The squelching, ripping sound of some one's chest cavity bring torn open by his hand is the next thing seen. Sebastian's tired of playing around and he's bored out of his mind. He wants the tasty souls of the festering living within that household. Revenge is a sweet dish and he's more than happy to eat it. Fingers flex outwards, pulling on the spinal column. The NPC in question leaks blood from his nose and eyes, ears and mouth, and the more he pulls the more the other chokes and sobs on the pain. He's keeping him alive, if only for this. When he knows no more, and only when his pain begins to bore the demon, the man jerks and snaps it completely, causing the body to go limp.

Aesthtics still in place, his tongue sweeps over the blood covering his bare hand, flicking it slowly into the red mess. The soul wasn't worth eating. Neither was the body. He's still picky and won't feed on just anyone. But without certain rules in place, he's as free as he can be without limitations. Those same bloodied hands lower to pick up the fallen PCD, thumb smearing blood over it.

His face is nothing but a wicked gleeful smile, cracked wide to display all those serrated teeth and the long nails. Hair long, clothes no longer depicting a butler, without a name is the demon before it]

Negi. You'll tell me, won't you? Anyone that tells me where Solve is, I'll spare their life.

Ciel, I'll be walking around Adstringendum today to check on a few things as it seems as good as day as any.

[No wait. That's not right. Why should he have to inform his son where he is going? He just smiles lightly and adds on] Incase you need me to come home or you need to find me for something.

[The noble and master of house pushes his glasses up further onto his face, pulling the black gloves taunt in his hands. Coat securely fixed around his shoulders, he'll take the cane in hand and head out the door]

It's just a routine check of a few of my usual places such as the lake and the park nearby. As Phantomhives we must preserve the hospitality to our neighbors. With the cloth materials I found in the basement near new years, I think it is best to find somewhere quiet to work for now. I should be able to reproduce one of our Peter "Bitter" Rabbits.

On further note, if anyone needs me for anything or perhaps a social visit, I have time today.

[The video flicks onto the usual butler's charming and false smiling face. Fingers raise to touch at his yellow scarf to smooth over the soft material. Usually he wouldn't partake in such simple pleasantries as a snowball fight, but things are different this time around] Yellow isn't my usual color nor is this absurd past time, but if this is a competition, I intend to win.

Team mates, it would be delightful if you could inform me who you are and be honest. Should I find you lying, I assure you I won't be easy on you in punishment. Then again, I won't be easy on any of you.

I see some of you on my team may think yourself higher than others in not competing. I assure you a few well placed snowballs are worth it. [He smirks just as a few Yodare rush past his feet out of the house and into the snow where they nose about and shred what carcass he's laid out for them]

But tell me this, what other chance will you have to pummel someone with as many projectiles of snow as you can and potentially bruise and beat while getting away with it? I have a particular person in mind I wish to do so myself. Several actually.