Watching from above the most entertaining scene of would-be massacre at Druitt's opera, under the guise of a woman dressed all in black with a delicate lacy black veil hanging down over an already surprisingly effeminate face, which was scarred by battle but not by the deceptively long years of life so far endured, a smile most taunting touched the thin lips of the immortal. It was so amusing to see the bumbling habits of humanity, the weeping; the brave; the cowardly; the screamers; the lovers and the haters, not quite worthy of full blown laughter but they were easy to mock to the extent of a coy smirk.
But then there were those higher beings more worthy of his concentration, the ones causing the real drama that evening, stalking among the guests, the Demon butler; the rouge Reaper; the cursed Reaper and the highly attractive red Reaper. He had understood, of course, straight away that it was a Reaper killing the young ladies around London, and knowing as he did about the condition of young Alan Humphries he had deduced that the killer was none other than Eric Slingby. He sympathised with the desperate male, he had seen a friend claimed by the Thorns before and it was not a pleasant experience for either party, and yet by the same breath it amused him no end to see the lengths to which he was going to try and save his friend.
Regardless he had kept the full truth from the young Earl, whom he also saw was in disguise across the banister from him, knowing the game would not be as much fun if he did not work the answers out by himself.
Shaking his head, Undertaker looked back towards the centre of the room where a battle of certain sorts had broken out, Slingby's presence unveiled and an overall cataclysm of violence splaying across the stage. His gaze was drawn to the vibrancy of red which was flashing back and forth, drawing his attention and making a smile tug at his lips. Ah, Grell Sutcliff, that amazing specimen of Reaper-hood, every inch the woman he desired to be in this ex-Reaper's eyes, and beautiful with it. Currently wearing such a stunning dress which showed off his curvaceous and feminine body.
He was suddenly very grateful for the veil he wore over his face which thankfully hid the impressive blush which had just spread over his face. Oh how inappropriate this crush was, the redhead barely even noticed his existence and when he did he was terrified, though it had to be said that scared expression of his sent chills up and down his spine.
Undertaker giggle softly, melding with the shadows as Slingby went about his business stealing the souls he needed, the last thing he needed was to be spotted or attacked, he really didn't feel like getting into a fight, especially when the danger of more Reaper's showing up was currently so great. He had been experiencing a perfectly peaceful life for the last fifty years, and he really didn't feel like having that interrupted by him being discovered.
A soft curse escaped his lips as his least desired occurrence occurred, in the form of the appearance of William T Spears and Ronald Knox, and he instantly paid a little more attention to concealing himself from being sensed or discovered. Though luckily for him it appeared the pair were far to engrossed in exacting punishment upon Slingby to take notice of his own presence.
He watched the fight unravel into minor scraps as several of the main perpetrators escaped or gave chase. His eyes narrowed as he saw the red reaper heading straight for his hiding place and before he could stop himself his arms snatched out and snagged the red head around the waist and mouth, silencing him and making sure he didn't scream out in surprise.
With a slow and steady snap of his fingers the quick but risky use of his slightly rusty Reaper powers, he stepped backwards through a dimensional portal, arriving back at his parlour before he closed the portal again and sank down onto the lid of a coffin, using his powers after so long was exhausting, he felt drained as he released the flailing red head from his grasp. He never even saw it coming because of his temporary delirium, but the hard slap around the face soon snapped him back to attention and he ended up falling backwards off the coffin he had been perched on and was completely engulfed by the skirts under his elegant dress. He flapped around, spluttering to find some way of exiting this cloth prison.
"WHAT WAS THAT?!" Grell's voice shrieked from nowhere, "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"
"Ohhh please don't scream so loud... I have a terrible headache from using that ability." he grumbled, still faffing about with his skirts as his long lithe legs kicking about restlessly in the dainty high heels he had adorned.
There was a moment's pause, in which he assumed Grell was considering his words, and then suddenly he felt a pair of thin arms wind around his torso and helped him sit up before gentle hands prised away the offending layers of material from in front of his face. Finally able to breath again, he spluttered slightly and removed his veil and hat, looking up at the redhead with a pout.
"I..." Grell's mouth was hanging open and words seemed to fail him as his beautiful green eyes simply gawped with wonder and confusion.
"What? What, what? Where did that anger go?" he asked, before he went even paler than normal and reached up, realising his hair was still pinned back and his face in full view, "Oh fudge~" he chuckled, "I guess the secret is out then!"
"And you thought I wouldn't recognised a dimensional portal when I'm dragged through one, Darling~?" the other Reaper asked, tilting his head to the side slightly, "You're a Reaper? A Grim Reaper?"
He looked away and let out a huff, "Hehe... Ah well there is no use hiding it is there?" he giggled softly, looking back at him, "Yes, I was a Grim Reaper." Undertaker pulled away slowly and stood up, brushing the dust from his black ball gown before he sorted his hair so it covered his face once more, he disliked showing more of his scars than was necessary, it made him uncomfortable and naked.
"But where are your glasses, Darling? I can't imagine the Dispatch are- Oh... Oh my goodness you mean to say... You're a deserter?" the redhead breathed, straightening as well and resting a small hand over his mouth.
"I refer optionally retired~" he shrugged, holding his hands out to show he was in no danger.
"But all this time you've been right here... I've been in and out of this parlour! I never even noticed... What about Sebby~? I wonder has he noticed, he notices everything and he knew about me~"
The ex-Reaper grinned slightly, scratching his head, "Ah but the key difference in our disguises is this: I do not show my eyes." his smile widened, "Whether you changed their shape, changed your glasses even, your eyes remained that piercing Reaper green, any half intelligent non-human would have seen you for your true self."
Grell pouted and flicked his hair over his shoulder, "My what a rude man you are, picking holes in a lady's disguise!"
"Ah, I apologise, I'm so used to talking to people who don't talk back I quite forget my manners." he giggled gently and walked forwards, lifting the redhead's chin with his finger, "Forgive an old man?"
The Reaper tried to look anywhere but at Undertaker, but failed and ended up pouting right at him, batting his red tinted eyelashes, "What were you even doing at the opera? And why did you bring me here, Darling? Are you going to molest me?"
The white haired male blinked under his long fringe and wondered how best to answer, "I wanted to see how things would unravel at the opera, I of course knew of Slingby's plan, but wanted to see the lengths of which he was willing to go. I... Am uncertain why I brought you here. It was instinctual... A fleeting desire I couldn't ignore."
"Anndddd... Do you plan to molest me?" Grell purred, moving a little closer and playing with a strand of snowy hair, "Un-der-ta-ker~"
"N-No of course not, I couldn't possibly take advantage of a lady like that." he spluttered, going red with embarrassment as he looked away. Damnations why did this redhead have such an effect on him. It was ridiculous.
"A... A... Lady?" He looked back at Grell and was shocked to see tears pricking his eyes behind his red rimmed glasses.
"Did I say something to offend you?"
"No... Quite the opposite Darling! No one has ever called me a lady before!" he sniffled, his hands slowly pressing together and his fingers locking as if in tight prayer, "T-Thank you!"
"You... Are welcome?" he said uncertainly, unnerved by the others reaction.
Grell took a few moments to regain his composure before dabbing his eyes and smiling toothily at the other, "Where did you get this dress anyway, Unny Darling, its most flattering, I never knew you had such a feminine figure! I'm envious~"
'Unny? Did he just... Give me a nickname?' Undertaker cleared his throat and offered one of his creepiest grins, "Ah I believe in an outfit for every occasion! As such, I made this little piece in case I ever needed to sneak into an all girl's party, like this evening. What of yourself? That dress certainly shows off your femininity."
"Oh Darling~! Aren't you just so adorable! I bought this a few months ago on the off chance of being able to wear it!" he giggled flirtatiously, leaning into the other male.
"Ah well... You look wonderful in it my dear, would you mind if I went and got changed, as freeing as it is to wear this... It is somewhat tight around the waist." he chuckled, trying to find an excuse to leave his presence for a while.
"Oh don't mind me, I'll wait here for you!"
The ex-Reaper rushed to one of his vertical standing coffins, opening it to reveal a hidden door, he rushed through, closing the entrance behind him as he stepped into the lavish lounge beyond; he took a breath, swallowing as he tried to control his thumping heart beat, never in his eternal life had anyone ignited such a flood of emotions in his heart. It scared him.
He hastened to the metal spiral staircase in the corner and wrestled his way up their among the layers of his garment. Finally reaching the next floor he hurried with light footsteps into his bedroom, closing the door and letting out a breath as he leaned against the pine wood.
"Stupid man." he muttered to himself, "Emotions do you no good, no good at all, better to leave well alone. Stupid body snatching him from the opera, what were you thinking? Are you so senile now you act of your own accord? Tch, foolish body. Foolish man." he mumbled away as he would do while working over a corpse, all the while struggling to unfasten the silken ties at the back of the dress.
Even that made no sense, he was good with his hands, he could take a corpse apart in under five minutes flat. He was excellent with his hands, he was a master of hands!
"What are you even on about?" he asked himself as he got the ties undone and with a groan of relief allowed the dress to fall from his feminine frame, pooling around his feet and leaving him naked to the cool air of his room.
His eyes slipped closed behind his hair as he took a moment to compose himself, finally getting control over his heart rate again he strode over to the wardrobe and opened it, grimacing as the mirror on the inside of the door revealed the ugly scars littering his arm, thigh, hip, chest and neck. He hated them. Ugly, messy and horrific as they were. He was only pleased his hair mostly hid the one on his face.
"Laughter, concentrate on the laughter, humour makes sense even when nothing else does. Live, laugh and laugh loudly." he murmured under his breath like a private mantra as he pulled on a pair of tight black pants, followed by his thigh length priestly robe; he buttoned the material close and straightened the cuffs before finally returning downstairs to tell the redhead to get out of his parlour.
Company didn't suit him.
He pushed open the coffin door and walked out into the parlour, he stopped dead as his bear feet hit the cold concrete floor and he saw to his mix off horror and endearment Grell Sutcliff had curled up on top of one of the coffins and had fallen fast asleep. He stared for a good five minutes before he dropped his head into his hands and swore under his breath, "Bollocks."