The year is 1887, and Sebastian roams within the underbelly of London in search for new personnel. While, yes, there’s Baldroy, Finny, Mey-Rin and Tanaka, who all have done their tasks as diligently as humans can, Sebastian finds himself desiring one more capable servant and defender for both the manor and young lord.

It doesn’t quite matter how he finds you, where he finds you nor what condition he finds you in. He inspects you closely, perhaps a little too closely, his crimson eyes gleaming with a subdued intrigue, before a satisfied grin gradually curls up on his lips.

“Yes, you’ll do quite nicely,” his voice not unlike a silken serpent, slowly swathing you in it’s grip. While he’s merely speaking to himself here, the sound of him is akin to a siren’s call. Though, he does not intend to lead you to your demise, the opposite, in fact. Instead, a new life at the manor is what he wishes for you.

He sees your puzzled expression and promptly elaborates, his gloved hand slipping into his tailcoat before he plucks out a photo of a very well kept mansion, the Phantomhive family crest displayed upon the gate at the entrance.

“My name is Sebastian,” his hand delicately pressed to his chest as he introduces himself, “and this,” he states proudly, tapping the photo, “is the Phantomhive Estate.”

“You need no prior experience to work here; we don't discriminate by age, race or history, mind you. We guarantee payment, days off and even provide luxury supplies such as sugar and tea. Ah, and your uniform would also be designed by a first rate tailor.” He rattles off swiftly and efficiently, it’s as if he has his explanation rehearsed.

“You’d be living within the manor, as well. You could even get a raise depending on your performance.” It’s a lot of information for you to digest, especially so suddenly and without warning. Though, he seems entertained by the confusion you exude, a hint of amusement hidden in his unassuming smile.

“Well, what do you think? I’d say you’d fit in well, no?”