ALLLLLRIGHT FOLKS! HERE WE HAVE AS PROMISED THE FANTABULOUS (or so I hope) OCS OF THE KUROSHITSUJI FANS ON G+. FIRST UP IS MAKA ALBARN'S REQUEST:

name: crys... apperance: long brown hair with bangs and light navy blue eyes.
i would be a homeless girl. ciel and sebastian found me and took me in as one of there maids :3
XD Ciel x Me romance! X3 lol

I gave her a last name since you didn't provide.

THE GIRL WHO CAME TO BE

"People who care about each other enjoy doing things for one another. They don't consider it servitude." –Ann Landers

Rain. More Rain. And then further on through the day the girl shivering beside the alley was hardly surprised when after a brief moment of heaven-sent sunshine, came another bout of endless downpour. What little clothes she had left soon became soaked; some of it washing away down the street and getting caught in muck along its path towards a sewage drain. Her skin was wrinkly with the moisture and grainy from being forced to sit in the vile alleyways of London. A carriage rolled past, almost with a purpose to further encroach into her private thoughts of the bitter wasteland.

Things had not always been this way for Crys Landers.

Her father had been a banker, her mother a great lady and hostess to all who decided to impose upon their humble abode, though she was too young back then to realize the true misfortune hidden behind the glamorous galas and hard work at the bank.

Smuggling. Her father had been a smuggler, her mother the accomplice.

It hadn't been that difficult to find out the truth, at least not for Scotland Yard. Crys's mother having been stealing from richer families at the parties she attended and handing over the artifacts to her father so he could deal them secretly within the back of the bank. That got them landed in prison…for who knows how long. She was an orphan by the criminal deeds of her parents; a child of thieves, one that couldn't be trusted for all who recognized the name Landers from the papers.

She sniffed at the memory, her navy blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears, and tried fruitlessly to rake the knots out of her long brown hair with grimy fingers. She could recall the times her fingers seemed to melt within her lovely locks like a knife into butter. Crys could remember the first gala she ever went to at the Phantomhive Estate.

She had come with her mother, and had marveled at the life that the Earl had compared to her and her mother's small mansion off in the east past London. His wife had been a lovely sight, along with her son and his slate colored hair and deep sapphire eyes. Though he was supposedly wed to Lizzy Midfred or something (she couldn't recall the names) she was almost positive that she had fallen in love with him at first sight. Crys wondered what the young Phantomhive looked like now…if he was, as people seemed to say, alive.

Crys, like many other street rats, had heard the rumors. The Phantomhive's fire in the mansion set by some unknown people or things—she was beginning to see the difference between the humans and the humans who were monsters in their souls; like the people who sneered when she looked them in the eye as they passed by her corner.

She wondered if monsters had begun to consume her almost-fantasy prince as well. His name was lost on her lips, she could only remember that haunting name; Phantomhive. That was all she had needed to know, though at some point during that gala and the next few before she was thrown on the streets he had introduced himself—her memory just didn't serve her well.

He had been…an angel. The only way to describe him would be such a heavenly name as such. He was the Angel of Phantomhive, and she hoped that someday before her inevitable young death he would come to her once more—if only in a dream.

They had danced together (briefly, for they had been young and had yet to learn exactly how), and became attached at the hip until her tragedy had separated them forever more.

"My papa says that I am supposed to marry Lizzy, but I'd much rather marry you Crys." He had giggled in that light voice of his, childish innocence, "Let's get married okay?!"

"Okay! Sure! Then we can get our own manor and make our OWN rules!" She had agreed.

If only things were so simple now as they were back then.

"My lord?" a low and flowing voice asked in confusion, causing her to look up from her thoughts.

If the other person hadn't spoken, then Crys surely would've thought herself to be dead.

"Sebastian…make a place in my household staff. We are in need of a new maid." The angel spoke, his face having changed into a frown.

Despite his change, he was still undoubtedly the boy she had promised to her betrothal. But his smile had vanished, and his eyes (or eye) were much colder like some unknowable pain had stolen away the warmth. He had fallen…yet he was still as beautiful.

"My lord, I'm not quite sure I follow."

"This is Crys Landers…my previous fiancée before Elizabeth. It is unsightly for an almost relation of the Phantomhive Family to be seen in such a state. We will take her back with us." The angel ordered.

Tears came to her eyes; so beautiful. He held out his hand and she took it gratefully albeit shaking.

"I don't remember your name." She laughed sadly, her voice a croak from little use.

"It's Ciel…Ciel Phantomhive."

Crys knew as soon as the butler coated in black (she quickly learned that his name was Sebastian and would be her supervisor) carried her back to that magical manor that belonged in a dream, that things were going to change, and once again…

A slate-haired angel had swept her off her feet.