Ciel watched his double closely, scrutinizing every motion as Demonio lifted his hand. His hand, still holding this cheap and worthless excuse of a weapon, still had yet to lower, still trained between the demon’s eyes with the threat to fire should Demonio attempt his own attack. With the mask moved away, sure enough, Ciel could see that this stranger wore his face.
How very peculiar. Was Glave the cause behind this, tampering with time and space for his own gimmicks…?
Admittedly, Ciel hadn’t expected the other to answer so willingly. However, with every slow, deliberate sentence, the assassin’s suspicions were confirmed. Demonio’s claims to have been Ciel were true, and he did indeed have a Lu of his own. So they were indeed similar–
Wait a moment.
What did he mean, ‘no longer the Ciel she wanted’…?
His confusion was made evident as he blinked slowly, attempting to understand what could have done this to him–to leave him not only near-silent, but with such a radical physical change, the appearance of a pure demon?
His last statement had brought pause, and before he knew what his actions would suggest, he had lowered his hand. His thumb deftly flicked the safety back on, though the gun remained in his hand, thumb on the safety, still ready to retaliate if he felt a threat.
“A weapon…?”
His Lu wouldn’t have referred to him as such. A butler, yes, but not a weapon. A weapon implied that she would care not for his well-being, that she would discard him should he not be effective in his duties. For three years, though she had served as his master and he obeyed her, never did Ciel believe himself to be considered something less than human.
“…Your Lu. What is she like…?”
For once, the demon would show a flash of emotion at the other’s question. A pained expression in the form of a grimace would vanish as swiftly as it would appear, the male shaking his head as if to clarify his thoughts. First he would shift his weight, taking a step back, his body language quite different than when they’d first encountered each other. Demonio had closed himself off in apprehension, with slumped shoulders and a barely audible exhale that could be a sigh.
“I...don’t have...her permission...to talk about...that.”
He felt something disgusting well within him--a remnant of the Lu he called his master. The urge to destroy, the near uncontrollable desire to create violence, was surging forth. It was as if...his Master was attempting to instigate him. A soft hiss would escape from his lips as he’d attempt to contain himself...which he would after a few minutes.
His claws had dug deep into his palms without realizing it--since when has his hands clenched into fists? No matter--he could control his urges now, so he thought it best that he could continue now rather than leaving the conversation at that. Slowly, the demon’s gaze would drift over to his counterpart once more.
“You....are still...her ally?” A clawed hand could rest over where Demonio’s heart would be, and strange enough...his voice almost had a wistful tone to it, as if recalling a memory that was too distant to see clearly. Before he’d realized it, the demon found himself giving the other a half bow out of respect. It was slight, but visible still. He lingered a moment before standing up straight.
It was only natural for him to recognize a superior, after all.
“I..apologize for pointing...a ridiculous toy at you. To atone...I will obey...one command you...would make of me.”
A pause.
“Even...something...thrown away can still be of...use.”
