[ Waking up here had been a shock, to put it lightly. It had drawn a deep panic out of Ciel, because so much about his life and how he navigated through it came down to control. The more control he had over his situation, the more comfortable he felt, so being suddenly dragged to this place that might as well be alien to his sensibilities… He wasn’t proud of his reaction, in short. He was grateful that there’d only been one worker to see him so low when the deep, visceral fear overtook him. This place may be foreign, but the way it made him feel vulnerable and violated, that was familiar.
He loathed that part of himself. He loathed even more that he’d called out to Sebastian first.
But, a full day later, he’s composed himself, at least so much as he can. Like always, he’d collected himself and felt the bitter understanding of pushing forward. So. When in a new situation, the first step is to gather information.
Not through people, of course. Absolutely not. He pointedly avoided all of them with a downcast glance, because this (inappropriate!) loungewear didn’t include something he felt was crucial. He was missing an eyepatch to cover the mismatched, cursed eye. So, rather than interrogate his new teammates, he’d made his way to the library. Most of the offerings were ignored, but anything about this world, this time, technology— Those were what he needed.
Unfortunately for him, Set is the same kind of ruthless intellectual. As Ciel navigates the shelves and heads to the section he needs, he finds that someone else is already here. He gives Set a glance that shows the purple eye for just a moment, then looks away and continues pointedly along to the next aisle with no more than a: ]
[ An environment's history, cultural practices, societal freedoms and pressures, philosophy and every other little thing that's made it tick throughout time is forever of great interest to him. To understand a region is to understand its people, and Set's voracious ethnographic appetite has always been reflected in the way he not only devours available literature on the subject, but interrogates the people of the world ( natives and outsiders alike, for both provide important perspectives ). He'd enjoyed it before he'd become god of war, and once he'd been assigned such responsibility, his passionate hobby had become a requirement of work and the beauty, the pleasure of it, had been tempered into duty.
That being said, to see a child among the stacks is of great interest to him. He's a thin-wristed, dour-faced little thing, and something about him piques at the god's immediate interest. Something oddly familiar about him, despite that they have never truly met. He's not kind to children simply because they are children; after all, children wage war alongside adults, and bear burdens just as heavy in his era. He's killed them and coddled them and found no hypocrisy in the act ( not in the way there was hypocrisy in sparing his own son, only to slaughter countless other boys, in the eyes of some ). ]
— wait, one moment.
[ He calls out immediately to the child with mismatched eyes.
He recognizes the mark upon the iris. More than that, though: ] I know you. You are the little rabbit!
[ Okay, the contract on Ciel's eye is DEFINITELY one that he's seen before, but lbh, it's way more fun ( and stupid ) to recognize the kid off of a plush toy given to him. After all, he WAS going to turn it into a bomb or something in his last world.... ]
[ With a grumble of discontent, Ciel’s step away does stop when Set calls out to him, because much like his counterpart that Set has already met, he’s beholden to manners. However, unlike him, he’s much freer with expressing himself, and therefore his reluctance to do so. He doesn’t actually believe it, but there’s etiquette in respecting one’s elders, and while he’s getting his bearings, that’s… useful, he hates to admit.
It doesn’t last long, though.
Though his gaze settles on the books rather than Set, since he might as well see if there’s anything of interest while he pauses, his expression twists into confusion at how he follows up. It doesn’t immediately make sense to him, because his thoughts are so far away from home at the moment. Calling him a rabbit feels like nonsense, but.
A possibility dawns on him, and immediately he regrets using the damned idol group to promote the Bitter Rabbit brand and make himself more visible. The rabbits sold well, and it was better that no one knew what the owner of the company looked like. Damn Sebastian for saying the manager needed to make appearances too!!
The reaction from that point is immediate as his face flushes, and, nope, politeness be damned. Now he’s embarrassed for even the thought of being recognized for the Bitter Rabbits, even if his guess is wrong. It doesn’t stop him blushing nearly to his ears, and he now very pointedly turns to continue on to the next aisle. No wonder Sebastian was so fixated on this boy, since he’s so easy to bully… ]
I haven’t the slightest what you’re talking about, sir.
[ And now that he’s said more, there’s plenty more clues that this is indeed the same boy that Sebastian had been contracted to. His accent and tone is incredibly posh and polite in the same way that Sebastian’s was, but unlike the demon whose tone tended towards servile, Ciel’s is proud and haughty. A little nobleman indeed. ]
You must, though! It is a little plush toy — about yea big, with an adorable bow around the throat and an eyepatch.
[ How terrible for Ciel, that Set immediately begins to remember every little scrap of detail that he had learned of him. While not much, the demon that had ( was still? the mark in his eye suggested as much ) been contracted to him had provided enough to comprehend that this boy was young, but not graced with the naiveté of youth. He knows there ought to be an eyepatch to cover the eye that so nakedly displays the proof of a bond; a bond that had been given to another for a time, until it shattering. Oh, the shattering. The obliteration of this boy's soul —
You know what, Set doesn't want to think about what this could mean. Time is a soup. To meet the boy now could mean that the life he remembered in Kenos was one he had yet to live. ( Quetzalcoatl could be alive, some traitorous part of him delights. )
Instead, he gives the true first meeting between the two of them his all. Sweeping off the windowseat he's inhabited, he pursues the red-faced boy back against one of the shelves. A bright and sharp-toothed smile spreading rapidly across his face, right up to the thin, dark pupils of his red eyes, curious eyes; he looks just as devilish as any other, though draped in a flowing, open shirt and high-waisted pants gives him the modern appeal that his position requires him to have. ]
You are missing the key elements it wears, but I would recognize you anywhere!
[ That… is definitely the Bitter Rabbit. There’s no mistaking the description, but that just makes Ciel walk faster down the aisle. Damn the library, actually, he’ll come back when this cretin isn’t here, he thinks. Of all the ways to be recognized, this is surely the most mortifying. He stayed away from public appearances for a reason.
—But, no. It’s such a constant part of himself that the oddity didn’t stand out at first. Surely, it was most recognizable because of the eyepatch. The eyepatch that he is annoyingly still without. That’s what gets Ciel to actually look back towards his pursuer again for more than just a glance, and immediately, his attention is drawn to his eyes. It sends an invisible shiver down his spine, first.
…But then it’s followed by deep irritation. His suspicion now tilts differently, but after three years of Sebastian hungrily looming over his shoulder, he doesn’t feel the sort of fear he one had when facing down a creature with that sort of curious, sharp grin. But annoyingly, it now means he has to extract information out of him. ]
A plush toy I’ve seen none of here. [ He’ll at least confirm that by implication. Fine. ] How did you?
[ ...Despite his need to question Set, he is also not stopping in walking away from him, it's worth noting. ]
[ One of Set's favorite things is to joust with his words. Laying traps using particular phrases, toying with words that have multiple meanings, parrying philosophy and reason with another — and he doesn't hesitate to engage in such behavior with a child. Definitely not. There's little mercy in him to show anyone, even if he does have a soft spot for kids. It's a weird soft spot, wherein he'd still put one to death, but it's why he follows after Ciel without hesitation. Follows, for a while. He won't forever. Unlike a particular demon, he has no interest in being subservient to someone else.
Chasing them around is only fun when they're laughing or terrified, after all! ]
Someone relinquished one to me, in another life.
[ And where there is a break in the rows of books, he steps to the side and away from the retreating boy. Immediately, he's out of line of sight, his voice carrying on from what seems to be the next row over. ]
And I did let him know that if ever I was to meet you, I would taunt you a little bit with its existence!
[ Ciel repeats it through grit teeth, because even without his suspicion and Set’s elaboration to follow, he has no doubt of who it must be. He didn’t think of it as a blessing to be free of Sebastian here, but he’d yet to unpack all of what that meant. However, it clearly didn’t even matter. Even when that damn demon couldn’t heed his call, he’d still find a way to get under his skin. Of course.
The grit turns to a grind as Set all but confirms it, at least in Ciel’s mind. But though he doesn’t have this lewdly dressed stranger chasing after him anymore, to not have his eyes on him feels worse, actually. He pauses in the aisle as he considers his options. Go to the next aisle, or simply flee?
…His pride doesn’t allow the latter, though it does occur to him. ]
Very well. I’m the owner of the Bitter Rabbit company, yes.
[ He admits that much, since taking away some of the fuel for whatever game Set is playing is a familiar tactic. He steps to the end of the aisle he’s in, then around it to see if Set is even in the aisle next to him. For some reason, he suspects not. ]
But you’re speaking nonsense, talking of other lives. [ says the boy that got isekai’d but look. denial. ] Tell me where you found the thing.
"Another life, another world, another time". It is not a riddle, it is a real thing.
[ Ballsy kid.
( Yeah, Set sees why Sebastian had the incredible urge to bully him. Why he'd want to rip this little soul to scraps after it had been poisoned beyond belief, devouring it when at its lowest. He's defiant, Ciel is. Scrappy for a tiny thing. )
Set's not a demon, though. The tactics of one have been taught to him, they're lessons he's taken to heart and immersed himself in — and perhaps, they lead him a little now, but he's also a god that loved to toy with people once. To tease them ruthlessly in an environment known for its murderous heat, until dropping them into a safe location to reconnect with their own kind. It's why, when Ciel comes around the corner, he's actually standing in the row. In his hands is one of the new library books, recently shelved and selected by him. It's one that he walks over to the young boy, but does not offer to him yet.
Instead, his expression seems to have lightened — arching into something a little less unsavory, and more... unfortunately? Playful. ]
You will find that books will speak of your culture, your fashion, the technology, the medicine, even the people you knew, as historical record instead of real, living souls. This is not nonsense, but the experience you will have. What you do with that information is what is most of interest to me.
[ He tips his head a little, and red hair falls around his jaw in soft layers.
The boy before him is someone he never, ever learned the name of. But, he knows him by sight, by the scent of him, by the evidence of his enslavement to an ugly fate. ]
This is the truth: Sebastian Michaelis let me take ownership of it. And he told me of you, from time to time.
[ He’s surprised to see Set still there, though logically, he’s not sure what he expected. Partially, he thinks (worries) that he’s not dealing with logic at all. Ciel is no stranger to the supernatural, so it’s perfectly possible that, who knows, this man could unfurl himself just as his demon could.
Still, as Set approaches, Ciel straightens, not stiffly, but more resolute. His gaze is sharp and piercing to match his scowl, but he still listens. He’s taking in Set’s words neutrally, but his mind is whirring quickly through them to pluck out every piece of information and interpretation he can. He’s intelligent, clearly. And none of these things suit his youth. Least of all that sigil in his mismatched eye that glitters with a curse. ]
Hmph. I expect better of my butler than to have a wagging tongue.
[ To his credit, his expression stays serious and stony rather than show any inkling of how his stomach unpleasantly turns to hear Sebastian brought up. He doesn’t like the idea that Sebastian was operating on his own in any capacity, especially if he felt brazen enough to talk about him. Sebastian knows all of his secrets, and Ciel therefore feels deeply wary of just what he might have shared. Also of that playful expression, if he’s honest. He’d almost prefer something unsavory… ]
Then I need not introduce myself. [ Since, naturally, he assumes that Sebastian had said his name, so it’s hilarious that he didn’t. ] But I’m quite sure that I do not know you.
He was not your butler anymore, not there. He gave his contract to another, and you were... imprisoned as a gift, to him.
[ Stuck in a little rock, until that rock was blown up!
It is unfortunate that Set does know a few things about this boy. The horror of that scene, with the children and the fire, still plagues him; it sparked at the miasmatic curse upon his wrist, demanding he empathize with the dying souls. Torn and murdered and burning, all at the command of the child before him. Perhaps that first, true look at Ciel, is why he does not prolong the teasing or torment. There's time to do that later, after they establish a few things. ]
Actually, he never gave me your name. Just his experiences with, and memories of you. I will say — he was very easy to bully into compliance, the silly thing. One would think a demon like him would not be so easy to stress out.
[ He'll come right out and admit that! As he pointedly avoids giving his identity for the moment. ]
I wonder if our association might make me fit to take over some of his duties to you.
[ There’s a lot in what Set says here. It’s one revelation after another, and each one feels like it should be an entire conversation of its own. They’re all united in being nauseating, making that unseen pit of anxiety grow larger.
The first part shouldn’t be possible. Ciel had very specifically laid out the term that Sebastian couldn’t betray him, his “aesthetics” be damned, and yet… He had, at least if this man is to be believed. He’s not sure if he does, because the concept of timelines and all their intricacies are something he has yet to wrap his head around. It feels like it has to be a lie, because if Sebastian had contracted with another, then why did he still have the mark in his eye?
With the knowledge he has at the moment, he can only guess that it has something to do with his “imprisonment”, but that’s the thought that threatens to upend him most. He shoves that idea down, smothers it with the idea that this must be some kind of strange lie. That’s a terror that makes Set’s words briefly fade into the background, at least until one word snaps his attention back to the forefront. ]
—What?
[ At least he’s no longer considering what Sebastian’s idea of imprisonment would mean, but the serious expression is positively icy at the word. Demon. Of Ciel’s many, many secrets, that one is the one he keeps closest of all, at least now. He thinks first to deny it, to double down and simply reject all of Set’s words, but that last part changes his mind. To him, it sounds like a threat. He fists clench at his sides furiously, but he still keeps his regal composure through his sharper words. ]
I imagine your association means that you are the person I would like least to take over his duties.
[ He might be facing down someone that he now thinks is a demon, and he’s acutely aware that he has no power or ability to face such a creature down, but he also won’t back down. Rather, he boldly takes a step forward. ]
My name is Ciel Phantomhive. [ :) ] And whatever my butler might have told you while unleashed is something he will be punished for. So, who are you that claims to know him so well?
I think you will find you do not have much of a choice, should you wish to find someone who would best support you.
[ Some might think him the worst, to assail a child with difficult information. Additional worlds and times, a demon that was not held to their contract, eternal imprisonment at that demon's leisure, and all on the heels of one's first foray into another life. Iskai'd among individuals who were previously isekai'd would be a NIGHTMARE for a child to cope with, but something about Ciel speaks to Set — it tells him that to treat this child as a helpless creature and hide information from him would be the ultimate disrespect. Anyone treating Ciel with kid gloves on would be — he doesn't know, but there is a steel in the youth that entices him.
Hitting him with shared knowledge is both Set's way of testing him, his spine and his resolve, as well as blasting past the walls he might think he can hide behind. A god whose image was used iconoclastically, whom had battered his hands and heart raw in Kenos to find truths was not a gentle one. Not even to a lost child. Especially when that child was proving himself a bastion of the thing Set resonated with the most: conviction, determined to move forward despite his fears. His powerlessness.
It's why he steps in to meet Ciel, and lifts his own chin. Towering nearly a full foot over him, he does not bow to meet the boy's eye, but instead looks down upon him with a small, telling smile. A toothless smirk of delight, eyes burning a scalding red, hunger deep-seated and unshaped within them. ( Ah, he thinks. I really do see why Sebastian had to have you. ) And then he closes his eyes, and spreads his hands. Quiet, and focused as he greets this boy appropriately. ]
Ciel Phantomhive, I am Set. God of war, god of the desert, the wicked tyrant of Egypt whom slaughtered his own kin for the thrones of men and gods.
[ The words sting, and Ciel feels like Set has seen right through him in a way that once again reminds him of his demon. Just how much did Sebastian say, he has to wonder, but that just makes that icy look burn more. He stubbornly wants to reject it, but he knows that Set is right. It’s the thing Ciel had bitterly struggled with since the day he turned ten, though that was far too young to learn such a lesson. He was weak and powerless. So, he had to grasp power where he could.
Still, he recoils from the idea of taking it from anyone with an expression like this. He’d accepted Sebastian’s deal because he had no choice. It was either take the demon’s hand or die. Though this strange world certainly made him feel pressure to need to claim some kind of power if he were to succeed, it was hardly as dire as that.
He’s already certain that he’ll reject the “offer”, because he knows better than to accept any help from such a gaze unless he truly must. But his steeled expression twists into a suspicious scowl as Set’s becomes more serene, and— ]
…Are you mad?
[ Well. It at least gets that frighteningly cold expression to melt again, but it’s given way to Ciel looking at Set like he’s grown another head. You would think that with having a demon at his beck and call and regularly encountering the Reapers, Ciel would be more open to believing in the supernatural and fantastic, but he absolutely does not. Though, ironically, he’d probably be a bit more open to it were Set anything else, since he’s also a tiny, bitter little atheist. ]
God— [ He starts, very much the capital “G” god in mind, but he is a well-read boy, and though the understanding of his time is still rudimentary at best, he knows enough to correct himself. ] Whatever, gods aren’t real. If you’re a demon [ ugh, he hates even saying it aloud ], then just come out and say it rather than getting on with some nonsense.
[ Poor Ciel. Not only does Set have his number thanks to the little glimpses shown of him by Sebastian, Set's favorite person is Silco. And the two have a bit in common, when it comes to their disrespectful defiance of those who ought to be considered their superiors. Still, Ciel gets a pass for now because he's young and new and the icy disdain in his eyes is a little fun. It's the kind of chill that Set looks forward to converting to awe or terror, in his dastardly little ( demonic ) heart. ]
You are not the first to speak to me with such a small-mindedness, Ciel Phantomhive.
[ In fact, without two years of BLATANT disrespect alongside tireless faith in him and his divinity, he would be far more off-put by this attitude. Instead, he's able to take it with stride — on one hand, he's meant to be forgotten by his wicked followers, and recalled only as an evil ideal. On the other, he really, really wants to prove himself to this little brat and his scowling mouth. ]
I am not a demon. [ Yes, he is. Or, he will be. ] I am the strongest of the Ennead, a god whom precedes humanity in the same way that your butler did. And whether I am a god or a demon, is the more important thing not that I know enough of you to be dangerous if left unattended? And you, a small-bodied human in a world that will demand intense action of you... can you afford to pass on my offer?
[ He cants his head, and finally leans down. In bowing sharply at the waist, he's able to bridge the approximate distance between the tops of their heads and rake his eyes over the young, round face before him; looking to the contract mark embedded in his eye, pointedly. ]
[ Being called small-minded isn’t off-putting in this context, because the existence of gods is honestly just something that’s hard for him to believe. It’s part of that extremely painful, bitter core of himself like so much is, but also. He’s a 19th century Englishman, and understandings of other cultures just really aren’t going to be a strong point for him.
He’s not sure if he exactly believe that claim either, but the technicalities of it are something he can set aside for the moment. Fine, he thinks, this Set fellow is someone inhuman. He hates it, but he can accept that much. It makes him dangerous, and unknowably so. He comes to that conclusion just as Set says it, and that has his expression back to quite serious. He forces the tension out of his hands as he relaxes them, since this is starting to feel like blackmail, almost. It’s ironic that this is something more comfortable to him. ]
Hmph. Since Sebastian has been so chatty, you seem to think that I’m completely helpless.
[ So help him, when he next runs into Sebastian, he’s going to kill him for causing him these problems! And the way that Set looms over him is exactly like the damn demon! No wonder Sebastian didn’t keep his mouth shut as he should have! ]
I may be human, but don’t underestimate me. God or no, I won’t be talked down to as if I’m some pitiful child that needs minding.
[ His words are acerbic, as if there’s a threat behind them, but in truth, that’s an empty one. He doesn’t have any resources here, as Set is making him acutely aware of. He’d already thought up a plan to endear himself to the locals like he had in Weston, annoying as that prospect was, but if this conversation returns nothing else, it’s convinced him that it’s necessary. ]
There’s no offer that comes from selflessness. Especially from a self-proclaimed tyrant, I'll note. Why are you so keen to “support” me?
[ Moments after Ciel says the word "helpless" and has his say, Set quietly bends down and seizes him by the ankle. And then he snaps upwards, turning Ciel over as he drags him upside down and holds him aloft like that. Dangling, helpless. His expression wide-eyed and seemingly guileless, as if to say what do you mean, you are not completely helpless? Children, no matter how bright, are deeply vulnerable to those with greater strengths than them; any adult has the advantage on them, let alone a (demi)god like Set.
He lifts him a little higher, and frowns heavily. The down-turn of his full mouth comical in its pointed silence. ]
— you are in a world where you are tasked with the slaughter of an enemy that threatens us with physical strength. As far as anyone is concerned, you are a hindrance more than a help. No amount of claiming you are not a pitiful child will convince them of it. You need the room to prove yourself, as any warrior would. It is that you have the drive and desire, that I offer my support.
[ Set eventually does flip Ciel back around, righting him with both feet on the floor again. ]
If you want to know why I am so keen, answer me this: after you awoke here, what was it that you deemed the "most important thing to do next"?
[ It’s at least to Ciel’s credit that as Set dips down, he’s suspicious enough to take a step back, but Set’s action is also absurd. It’s enough to make him hesitate just a half second too long, and he doesn’t escape from Set grabbing an ankle. And unfortunately… This treatment isn’t new, though it’s been a long time since he’s had to suffer such indignity.
He squawks as he hits the ground, but his gaze is fierce and furious as Set drags him up. He claws at the ground to hold onto it, but Set’s strength wins as he’s able to dangle him with what’s surely little effort. As his shirt flips down, his face turns scarlet from anger and embarrassment in equal turn, and he kicks at Set and tries to grab onto him, but. Part of the problem with his lack of success is clear from the flip of his shirt. He’s scrawny and skinny, with ribs clearly visible, and Set knows Sebastian enough to know it couldn’t be for lack of trying. This is something else.
But at least he’s got spirit. ]
Wretch! I don’t give a damn who you are, I hand me this instant!!
[ It’s of course not very intimidating, but if looks could kill, it’d be much more impressive. There’s clearly so much incredibly potent anger in this boy that it’s no wonder that Sebastian had taken a patient, vested interest.
Beyond that face of anger, though, Ciel is terrified. It’s the horrible balance he had to strike with Sebastian where he had to present perfect strength at all times, but the truth isn’t quite that. Sebastian had seen that and delighted in it, and Set is sure to at least pick up on it. His pupils are dilated, his heart hammers in his ears, but still, he claws at Set to be put down as if he’s not listening to a word he’d said.
In fact, it looks like he might leap at Set once he lets him go and try to strangle him with his own hands. But his fists end up clenched at his sides.
He should go. He wants to go. But Set has already been firmly categorized as some horrible thing like Sebastian. And, so. You don’t turn your back upon a beast. ]
Do not touch me. [ There’s a waver in his voice that’s concentrated fury, but Set might recognize that too. There’s a deep pain there that implies a far deeper wound. ] Touch me again, and I’ll kill you.
[ Ugh. Ugh. He hates feeling so weak, especially against forces that no human could best. Arrogant, awful creatures, all of them. His jaw sets as he recollects himself and stands firm (and now out of Set’s immediate reach). ]
The most important thing. [ He practically spits it out. ] Gathering information. I’m not a brute like you and Sebastian, clearly. Information is more valuable for me.
I may need to seize your person in the future, if you are in danger.
[ He only seems to grow more interested, as the boy becomes wrathful. Resentful.
The fury that lives in Ciel is intoxicating, his utter revulsion towards that which towers over him and his desire to conquer it is the same exact thing that had led him to a man like Silco. To become close, entwined, trusted by someone who loathed being taken advantage of ( and Set, even in his own power, knows what that is like ). To rattle Ciel so deeply that their baseline going forward is pragmatism and loathing is not all bad, not to a god that thrives on others' convictions and desire.
And, being categorized as someone to hate? Well, that's okay. The masks he wears for others' benefit ( and his own protection ) are numerous and complex; being necessary but unloved is simply what he was made for. Poisoning others with his existence is part of his design, and for now? Ciel is alive, not a decimated little Shard that served as fuel for Sebastian's violent desires. Keeping him alive? That's within Set's desires. Seeing him grow? That is, too.
He's so small, skinny as a starved thing — a sight that Set's seen enough of, because he caused the decimation of Egypt. The hunger and pain and despair running powerful and rampant in a country he used to protect. This time, he does not lean down to Ciel's level as he speaks. ]
That is why.
[ Because Ciel chose information. ]
You may think me a brute and it is fact that my strength is divine, but the thing I value most is intelligence. The desire to out-prepare, out-wit, out-maneuver is the foundation of war, alongside tactics and weaponry and might. I actually do not care that you are small and young. I am here to counter that. But, do not think that I will rely on your mind, either. I am competitive!
[ His fury calms, but only just. It’s largely because Set is also deeply annoying in the exact same way Sebastian is. That at least makes him somewhat understandable, but he doesn’t want that understanding either, damn him! Both of them! ]
And here I thought that Sebastian wasn’t capable of making friends, but no, I see it now. You’re precisely as irritating and impudent as he is, so naturally.
[ Calling a god impudent is probably a pot calling the kettle black, but he doesn’t care. He has no respect for God, or gods of any kind. He’s not sure he believes it, besides, since with his experience (sample size: one), he fully expects a demon to be a liar. He pinches the bridge of his nose like he’s an old man feeling a headache come on. ]
…Your support.
[ He starts, but there’s still a pause, because he can’t believe he’s considering this. But unfortunately, Set is right. He’s a weak thing thrown into a situation where he has no advantages of station or information, at least not yet. He’s still having a hard time wrapping his head around it, but removing all the sheer oddity, the problem is familiar. He needs to succeed and survive, and that means gaining allies. Allies that were steadfast.
…He’s not certain about that qualifier for Set, of course. But if he has the same foul interests as his demon, that’s something to work with. ]
Whims alone don’t answer why you’re so keen. [ Not to him, anyways. ] What do you want? If your interest is the same as Sebastian’s then you should forget it. Foul as he is, I won’t renege on our deal.
When one wants to ensure rivals do not find the cracks in the foundations, we turn ourselves into mazes to behold. He and I were on opposing sides, for some time.
[ Without a doubt, he knows that Ciel will accept. It might take a moment, and it will arrive begrudgingly and with great hostility, but Set is the best option for him — he is trained by the demon, he knows bits and pieces of Ciel, and somewhere inside his head, he still competes to hold as many hearts and minds against Zenith as he can.
There is no Zenith, not here.
No reason to strive to claw up allies, as if to swell rank and file against rivals. There is just a smart, weak human child with more audacity and wrath than his body can contain — and a deep, vested interest. ( He would keep his vow to never steal Sebastian's due from him, but. But! ) ]
I do not want your soul, Ciel Phantomhive. I would not defile the agreement between the two of you; you made it of your own volition.
[ Time is a soup. ]
The man here, called Silco. He was Sebastian's master in the other life. The one who did not so much succeed you, as he inherited your pact. You could say... as I am a god and not a demon, I do not know why humans gravitate to these creatures. Yet, I have to learn. Why not from you?
[ He may be the one that implicitly brought it up, but his face still twists in a visceral displeasure when Set says jt so bluntly. His contract with Sebastian is such a secret that it being referred to feels wrong. He’d gone through great pains to ensure that by essentially training the demon into secrecy. Of course it wouldn’t last until the moment he wasn’t there to yank on his proverbial leash… ]
I did.
[ He agrees to the assessment even though it’s not totally true. Considering the circumstances, it would be a stretch to say it was totally his volition. But it’s how Ciel chose to see it, even if those reasons were complicated and messy. ]
—And thus you would be better off asking this Silco fellow. [ But he notes that he also has to find Silco and… He’s not sure what. He wants to speak to him, but whether it’s out of rivalry or commiseration, he doesn’t know. ] I did not gravitate towards him, I’ll note.
[ …He wants to forget that night more than anything else. So, he’s also sure he doesn’t want to explain it to Set. But if that’s what he wants, he can at least bait him with information that Ciel would never reveal in the first place. ]
Hmph. I imagine that there’s no refusing your support either. You seem annoyingly persistent. [ this isn’t a compliment but set is sure to take it as one… ] But I want a proper agreement. Surely a god’s oath would not be so weak as to be less valuable than a demon’s.
[ He’s definitely baiting with the last statement, but it’s intentional. He doesn’t trust loyalty, but he trusts pride, especially when it comes from arrogance. ]
I watched their relationship develop, to its end. And his survival.
[ Set won't mention that it took an Actual Goddess Intervening for Silco to survive having his soul slurped up by the delicatessen that was Sebastian Michaelis, but the point still stands. He watched, interacted and heavily observed aspects of a master-demon contract throughout the years, if not from origin, then from close to it. He also knows there is a difference between Silco and Ciel, in the form of years lived; Silco is older, an adult that had built an established empire from the dirty depths of a woebegotten city to the apex of his grubby power.
Ciel is a child, and a relative mystery.
What Set knows is that he is angry, ruthless and the rabbit is his. ]
If I am persistent, it is solely because it is you.
[ An intriguing, devastatingly misery-laden little beast of a boy. Sharp as a tack, as angry as a hostile storm.
It's a bit like looking into a mirror. ]
A god's oath is not as simple as a demon's, I will say. You must actually put faith in me, in lieu of offering up your soul. A demon does not require much up front, I have found, but I do. Perhaps a formal trial run between us, to determine the parameters of a proper agreement going forward?
[ Set might be expecting more of a reaction from Ciel in the fact that Silco survived, but… There simply isn’t one. His perpetual scowl stays unchanged, because it’s not as if he feels jealousy over that result. He feared Sebastian and he feared the day that his end would come, but that didn’t mean he wanted any other result. When he’d struck their deal, he’d been satisfied with the idea that he would simply cease to exist when Sebastian claimed his soul. That hadn’t changed.
Instead, what makes his frown deepen is how Set’s interest focuses on him so specifically. That’s familiar, unfortunately. He didn’t want to be so damn interesting to these freaks… ]
Then an oath is impossible. I’ve no faith to offer you, nor anyone else, for that matter.
[ He just sighs out the refusal, but it’s clearly not him simply being stubborn. It’s a deeply held belief, and it had predated Sebastian. ]
When you say a “trial run”, what does that entail, precisely?
You don't have to pledge yourself to the divine. There is no "oh, i pray to you and accept you into mine heart eternal" that modern faith requires of its flock. Simply devote your battles to my name. That will suffice.
[ It's the same sort of request he'd made in the last world, of others who had sought his power. Just wage war in his name.
( Keep him relevant, alive, unforgotten. )
It is then that he twists the book in his hands around, offering it to Ciel with the cover up and spine cradled in his palm. It's a sensible text, detailing the Egyptian pantheon with a modernist lean; an academic eye upon his world that was not saturated with the false superiority of western civilization and its white populace lusting for Rome as the epitome of culture and grace. He's read plenty of that, much of it hailing from what would be Ciel's original era. ]
I propose that, for a trial run, we collaborate to acquire a decided-upon resource. In this world, we have those given identities and occupations — "Hierax", my identity, is a socialite. I perform for the media, in exchange for access to individuals and venus. Depending on what your role is, we work together toward a given target. Someone to have in our corner, perhaps as financial support.
me like "what job can a 13yo have" and then wheezing
[ Ciel still looks rather dubious about this proposal, but since his expression doesn’t twist up further, he’s clearly listening and considering. The kind of faith that Set asks is at least more palatable, but it still feels… strange. After all, despite his firm refusal of religion now, he still had been raised as a good, Christian boy, and his culture strongly held that framing, as Set has seen.
But, worst comes to worst, he’s just saying words to the ether, same as any prayer. There doesn’t seem to be any harm in that, save for how foolish he’d feel.
He takes the book hesitantly at first, but his expression does lighten a little bit once he sees the topic. It’s not what he’d been looking for at all, but considering he now has another FREAK!!! Overly invested in him, know thy enemy and all. That also makes his gaze flicker back at Set suspiciously, since he doesn’t fully trust why he’s being given this, but he tucks it under his arm all the same. He’ll absolutely devour it. Later, anyways. ]
…Hm. I believe that is… similar to what I have been assigned. Not that I have a clue what an “influencer” or a “streamer” is. [ me bullying ciel by putting him into the CONTENT MINES ] But it seems akin to a socialite, which I do.
[ Though. That makes him grumble, since as is surely already obvious, this is an extraordinarily curmudgeonly thirteen year old. He doesn’t do public appearances, which is why the general public thinks that the Earl of Phantomhive is perhaps a distant uncle of the deceased family rather than a surviving son. ]
…I loathe it. But the obligations of class and status I know well. I am the Earl of Phantomhive, so needs must that I participate in their vapid activities from time to time.
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He loathed that part of himself. He loathed even more that he’d called out to Sebastian first.
But, a full day later, he’s composed himself, at least so much as he can. Like always, he’d collected himself and felt the bitter understanding of pushing forward. So. When in a new situation, the first step is to gather information.
Not through people, of course. Absolutely not. He pointedly avoided all of them with a downcast glance, because this (inappropriate!) loungewear didn’t include something he felt was crucial. He was missing an eyepatch to cover the mismatched, cursed eye. So, rather than interrogate his new teammates, he’d made his way to the library. Most of the offerings were ignored, but anything about this world, this time, technology— Those were what he needed.
Unfortunately for him, Set is the same kind of ruthless intellectual. As Ciel navigates the shelves and heads to the section he needs, he finds that someone else is already here. He gives Set a glance that shows the purple eye for just a moment, then looks away and continues pointedly along to the next aisle with no more than a: ]
Pardon me.
finally.
That being said, to see a child among the stacks is of great interest to him. He's a thin-wristed, dour-faced little thing, and something about him piques at the god's immediate interest. Something oddly familiar about him, despite that they have never truly met. He's not kind to children simply because they are children; after all, children wage war alongside adults, and bear burdens just as heavy in his era. He's killed them and coddled them and found no hypocrisy in the act ( not in the way there was hypocrisy in sparing his own son, only to slaughter countless other boys, in the eyes of some ). ]
— wait, one moment.
[ He calls out immediately to the child with mismatched eyes.
He recognizes the mark upon the iris. More than that, though: ] I know you. You are the little rabbit!
[ Okay, the contract on Ciel's eye is DEFINITELY one that he's seen before, but lbh, it's way more fun ( and stupid ) to recognize the kid off of a plush toy given to him. After all, he WAS going to turn it into a bomb or something in his last world.... ]
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It doesn’t last long, though.
Though his gaze settles on the books rather than Set, since he might as well see if there’s anything of interest while he pauses, his expression twists into confusion at how he follows up. It doesn’t immediately make sense to him, because his thoughts are so far away from home at the moment. Calling him a rabbit feels like nonsense, but.
A possibility dawns on him, and immediately he regrets using the damned idol group to promote the Bitter Rabbit brand and make himself more visible. The rabbits sold well, and it was better that no one knew what the owner of the company looked like. Damn Sebastian for saying the manager needed to make appearances too!!
The reaction from that point is immediate as his face flushes, and, nope, politeness be damned. Now he’s embarrassed for even the thought of being recognized for the Bitter Rabbits, even if his guess is wrong. It doesn’t stop him blushing nearly to his ears, and he now very pointedly turns to continue on to the next aisle. No wonder Sebastian was so fixated on this boy, since he’s so easy to bully… ]
I haven’t the slightest what you’re talking about, sir.
[ And now that he’s said more, there’s plenty more clues that this is indeed the same boy that Sebastian had been contracted to. His accent and tone is incredibly posh and polite in the same way that Sebastian’s was, but unlike the demon whose tone tended towards servile, Ciel’s is proud and haughty. A little nobleman indeed. ]
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[ How terrible for Ciel, that Set immediately begins to remember every little scrap of detail that he had learned of him. While not much, the demon that had ( was still? the mark in his eye suggested as much ) been contracted to him had provided enough to comprehend that this boy was young, but not graced with the naiveté of youth. He knows there ought to be an eyepatch to cover the eye that so nakedly displays the proof of a bond; a bond that had been given to another for a time, until it shattering. Oh, the shattering. The obliteration of this boy's soul —
You know what, Set doesn't want to think about what this could mean. Time is a soup. To meet the boy now could mean that the life he remembered in Kenos was one he had yet to live. ( Quetzalcoatl could be alive, some traitorous part of him delights. )
Instead, he gives the true first meeting between the two of them his all. Sweeping off the windowseat he's inhabited, he pursues the red-faced boy back against one of the shelves. A bright and sharp-toothed smile spreading rapidly across his face, right up to the thin, dark pupils of his red eyes, curious eyes; he looks just as devilish as any other, though draped in a flowing, open shirt and high-waisted pants gives him the modern appeal that his position requires him to have. ]
You are missing the key elements it wears, but I would recognize you anywhere!
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—But, no. It’s such a constant part of himself that the oddity didn’t stand out at first. Surely, it was most recognizable because of the eyepatch. The eyepatch that he is annoyingly still without. That’s what gets Ciel to actually look back towards his pursuer again for more than just a glance, and immediately, his attention is drawn to his eyes. It sends an invisible shiver down his spine, first.
…But then it’s followed by deep irritation. His suspicion now tilts differently, but after three years of Sebastian hungrily looming over his shoulder, he doesn’t feel the sort of fear he one had when facing down a creature with that sort of curious, sharp grin. But annoyingly, it now means he has to extract information out of him. ]
A plush toy I’ve seen none of here. [ He’ll at least confirm that by implication. Fine. ] How did you?
[ ...Despite his need to question Set, he is also not stopping in walking away from him, it's worth noting. ]
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Chasing them around is only fun when they're laughing or terrified, after all! ]
Someone relinquished one to me, in another life.
[ And where there is a break in the rows of books, he steps to the side and away from the retreating boy. Immediately, he's out of line of sight, his voice carrying on from what seems to be the next row over. ]
And I did let him know that if ever I was to meet you, I would taunt you a little bit with its existence!
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[ Ciel repeats it through grit teeth, because even without his suspicion and Set’s elaboration to follow, he has no doubt of who it must be. He didn’t think of it as a blessing to be free of Sebastian here, but he’d yet to unpack all of what that meant. However, it clearly didn’t even matter. Even when that damn demon couldn’t heed his call, he’d still find a way to get under his skin. Of course.
The grit turns to a grind as Set all but confirms it, at least in Ciel’s mind. But though he doesn’t have this lewdly dressed stranger chasing after him anymore, to not have his eyes on him feels worse, actually. He pauses in the aisle as he considers his options. Go to the next aisle, or simply flee?
…His pride doesn’t allow the latter, though it does occur to him. ]
Very well. I’m the owner of the Bitter Rabbit company, yes.
[ He admits that much, since taking away some of the fuel for whatever game Set is playing is a familiar tactic. He steps to the end of the aisle he’s in, then around it to see if Set is even in the aisle next to him. For some reason, he suspects not. ]
But you’re speaking nonsense, talking of other lives. [ says the boy that got isekai’d but look. denial. ] Tell me where you found the thing.
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[ Ballsy kid.
( Yeah, Set sees why Sebastian had the incredible urge to bully him. Why he'd want to rip this little soul to scraps after it had been poisoned beyond belief, devouring it when at its lowest. He's defiant, Ciel is. Scrappy for a tiny thing. )
Set's not a demon, though. The tactics of one have been taught to him, they're lessons he's taken to heart and immersed himself in — and perhaps, they lead him a little now, but he's also a god that loved to toy with people once. To tease them ruthlessly in an environment known for its murderous heat, until dropping them into a safe location to reconnect with their own kind. It's why, when Ciel comes around the corner, he's actually standing in the row. In his hands is one of the new library books, recently shelved and selected by him. It's one that he walks over to the young boy, but does not offer to him yet.
Instead, his expression seems to have lightened — arching into something a little less unsavory, and more... unfortunately? Playful. ]
You will find that books will speak of your culture, your fashion, the technology, the medicine, even the people you knew, as historical record instead of real, living souls. This is not nonsense, but the experience you will have. What you do with that information is what is most of interest to me.
[ He tips his head a little, and red hair falls around his jaw in soft layers.
The boy before him is someone he never, ever learned the name of. But, he knows him by sight, by the scent of him, by the evidence of his enslavement to an ugly fate. ]
This is the truth: Sebastian Michaelis let me take ownership of it. And he told me of you, from time to time.
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Still, as Set approaches, Ciel straightens, not stiffly, but more resolute. His gaze is sharp and piercing to match his scowl, but he still listens. He’s taking in Set’s words neutrally, but his mind is whirring quickly through them to pluck out every piece of information and interpretation he can. He’s intelligent, clearly. And none of these things suit his youth. Least of all that sigil in his mismatched eye that glitters with a curse. ]
Hmph. I expect better of my butler than to have a wagging tongue.
[ To his credit, his expression stays serious and stony rather than show any inkling of how his stomach unpleasantly turns to hear Sebastian brought up. He doesn’t like the idea that Sebastian was operating on his own in any capacity, especially if he felt brazen enough to talk about him. Sebastian knows all of his secrets, and Ciel therefore feels deeply wary of just what he might have shared. Also of that playful expression, if he’s honest. He’d almost prefer something unsavory… ]
Then I need not introduce myself. [ Since, naturally, he assumes that Sebastian had said his name, so it’s hilarious that he didn’t. ] But I’m quite sure that I do not know you.
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[ Stuck in a little rock, until that rock was blown up!
It is unfortunate that Set does know a few things about this boy. The horror of that scene, with the children and the fire, still plagues him; it sparked at the miasmatic curse upon his wrist, demanding he empathize with the dying souls. Torn and murdered and burning, all at the command of the child before him. Perhaps that first, true look at Ciel, is why he does not prolong the teasing or torment. There's time to do that later, after they establish a few things. ]
Actually, he never gave me your name. Just his experiences with, and memories of you. I will say — he was very easy to bully into compliance, the silly thing. One would think a demon like him would not be so easy to stress out.
[ He'll come right out and admit that! As he pointedly avoids giving his identity for the moment. ]
I wonder if our association might make me fit to take over some of his duties to you.
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The first part shouldn’t be possible. Ciel had very specifically laid out the term that Sebastian couldn’t betray him, his “aesthetics” be damned, and yet… He had, at least if this man is to be believed. He’s not sure if he does, because the concept of timelines and all their intricacies are something he has yet to wrap his head around. It feels like it has to be a lie, because if Sebastian had contracted with another, then why did he still have the mark in his eye?
With the knowledge he has at the moment, he can only guess that it has something to do with his “imprisonment”, but that’s the thought that threatens to upend him most. He shoves that idea down, smothers it with the idea that this must be some kind of strange lie. That’s a terror that makes Set’s words briefly fade into the background, at least until one word snaps his attention back to the forefront. ]
—What?
[ At least he’s no longer considering what Sebastian’s idea of imprisonment would mean, but the serious expression is positively icy at the word. Demon. Of Ciel’s many, many secrets, that one is the one he keeps closest of all, at least now. He thinks first to deny it, to double down and simply reject all of Set’s words, but that last part changes his mind. To him, it sounds like a threat. He fists clench at his sides furiously, but he still keeps his regal composure through his sharper words. ]
I imagine your association means that you are the person I would like least to take over his duties.
[ He might be facing down someone that he now thinks is a demon, and he’s acutely aware that he has no power or ability to face such a creature down, but he also won’t back down. Rather, he boldly takes a step forward. ]
My name is Ciel Phantomhive. [ :) ] And whatever my butler might have told you while unleashed is something he will be punished for. So, who are you that claims to know him so well?
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[ Some might think him the worst, to assail a child with difficult information. Additional worlds and times, a demon that was not held to their contract, eternal imprisonment at that demon's leisure, and all on the heels of one's first foray into another life. Iskai'd among individuals who were previously isekai'd would be a NIGHTMARE for a child to cope with, but something about Ciel speaks to Set — it tells him that to treat this child as a helpless creature and hide information from him would be the ultimate disrespect. Anyone treating Ciel with kid gloves on would be — he doesn't know, but there is a steel in the youth that entices him.
Hitting him with shared knowledge is both Set's way of testing him, his spine and his resolve, as well as blasting past the walls he might think he can hide behind. A god whose image was used iconoclastically, whom had battered his hands and heart raw in Kenos to find truths was not a gentle one. Not even to a lost child. Especially when that child was proving himself a bastion of the thing Set resonated with the most: conviction, determined to move forward despite his fears. His powerlessness.
It's why he steps in to meet Ciel, and lifts his own chin. Towering nearly a full foot over him, he does not bow to meet the boy's eye, but instead looks down upon him with a small, telling smile. A toothless smirk of delight, eyes burning a scalding red, hunger deep-seated and unshaped within them. ( Ah, he thinks. I really do see why Sebastian had to have you. ) And then he closes his eyes, and spreads his hands. Quiet, and focused as he greets this boy appropriately. ]
Ciel Phantomhive, I am Set. God of war, god of the desert, the wicked tyrant of Egypt whom slaughtered his own kin for the thrones of men and gods.
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Still, he recoils from the idea of taking it from anyone with an expression like this. He’d accepted Sebastian’s deal because he had no choice. It was either take the demon’s hand or die. Though this strange world certainly made him feel pressure to need to claim some kind of power if he were to succeed, it was hardly as dire as that.
He’s already certain that he’ll reject the “offer”, because he knows better than to accept any help from such a gaze unless he truly must. But his steeled expression twists into a suspicious scowl as Set’s becomes more serene, and— ]
…Are you mad?
[ Well. It at least gets that frighteningly cold expression to melt again, but it’s given way to Ciel looking at Set like he’s grown another head. You would think that with having a demon at his beck and call and regularly encountering the Reapers, Ciel would be more open to believing in the supernatural and fantastic, but he absolutely does not. Though, ironically, he’d probably be a bit more open to it were Set anything else, since he’s also a tiny, bitter little atheist. ]
God— [ He starts, very much the capital “G” god in mind, but he is a well-read boy, and though the understanding of his time is still rudimentary at best, he knows enough to correct himself. ] Whatever, gods aren’t real. If you’re a demon [ ugh, he hates even saying it aloud ], then just come out and say it rather than getting on with some nonsense.
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You are not the first to speak to me with such a small-mindedness, Ciel Phantomhive.
[ In fact, without two years of BLATANT disrespect alongside tireless faith in him and his divinity, he would be far more off-put by this attitude. Instead, he's able to take it with stride — on one hand, he's meant to be forgotten by his wicked followers, and recalled only as an evil ideal. On the other, he really, really wants to prove himself to this little brat and his scowling mouth. ]
I am not a demon. [ Yes, he is. Or, he will be. ] I am the strongest of the Ennead, a god whom precedes humanity in the same way that your butler did. And whether I am a god or a demon, is the more important thing not that I know enough of you to be dangerous if left unattended? And you, a small-bodied human in a world that will demand intense action of you... can you afford to pass on my offer?
[ He cants his head, and finally leans down. In bowing sharply at the waist, he's able to bridge the approximate distance between the tops of their heads and rake his eyes over the young, round face before him; looking to the contract mark embedded in his eye, pointedly. ]
— Sebastian is not here, but I am.
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He’s not sure if he exactly believe that claim either, but the technicalities of it are something he can set aside for the moment. Fine, he thinks, this Set fellow is someone inhuman. He hates it, but he can accept that much. It makes him dangerous, and unknowably so. He comes to that conclusion just as Set says it, and that has his expression back to quite serious. He forces the tension out of his hands as he relaxes them, since this is starting to feel like blackmail, almost. It’s ironic that this is something more comfortable to him. ]
Hmph. Since Sebastian has been so chatty, you seem to think that I’m completely helpless.
[ So help him, when he next runs into Sebastian, he’s going to kill him for causing him these problems! And the way that Set looms over him is exactly like the damn demon! No wonder Sebastian didn’t keep his mouth shut as he should have! ]
I may be human, but don’t underestimate me. God or no, I won’t be talked down to as if I’m some pitiful child that needs minding.
[ His words are acerbic, as if there’s a threat behind them, but in truth, that’s an empty one. He doesn’t have any resources here, as Set is making him acutely aware of. He’d already thought up a plan to endear himself to the locals like he had in Weston, annoying as that prospect was, but if this conversation returns nothing else, it’s convinced him that it’s necessary. ]
There’s no offer that comes from selflessness. Especially from a self-proclaimed tyrant, I'll note. Why are you so keen to “support” me?
1/2
he didn't think this through oops ]
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He lifts him a little higher, and frowns heavily. The down-turn of his full mouth comical in its pointed silence. ]
— you are in a world where you are tasked with the slaughter of an enemy that threatens us with physical strength. As far as anyone is concerned, you are a hindrance more than a help. No amount of claiming you are not a pitiful child will convince them of it. You need the room to prove yourself, as any warrior would. It is that you have the drive and desire, that I offer my support.
[ Set eventually does flip Ciel back around, righting him with both feet on the floor again. ]
If you want to know why I am so keen, answer me this: after you awoke here, what was it that you deemed the "most important thing to do next"?
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He squawks as he hits the ground, but his gaze is fierce and furious as Set drags him up. He claws at the ground to hold onto it, but Set’s strength wins as he’s able to dangle him with what’s surely little effort. As his shirt flips down, his face turns scarlet from anger and embarrassment in equal turn, and he kicks at Set and tries to grab onto him, but. Part of the problem with his lack of success is clear from the flip of his shirt. He’s scrawny and skinny, with ribs clearly visible, and Set knows Sebastian enough to know it couldn’t be for lack of trying. This is something else.
But at least he’s got spirit. ]
Wretch! I don’t give a damn who you are, I hand me this instant!!
[ It’s of course not very intimidating, but if looks could kill, it’d be much more impressive. There’s clearly so much incredibly potent anger in this boy that it’s no wonder that Sebastian had taken a patient, vested interest.
Beyond that face of anger, though, Ciel is terrified. It’s the horrible balance he had to strike with Sebastian where he had to present perfect strength at all times, but the truth isn’t quite that. Sebastian had seen that and delighted in it, and Set is sure to at least pick up on it. His pupils are dilated, his heart hammers in his ears, but still, he claws at Set to be put down as if he’s not listening to a word he’d said.
In fact, it looks like he might leap at Set once he lets him go and try to strangle him with his own hands. But his fists end up clenched at his sides.
He should go. He wants to go. But Set has already been firmly categorized as some horrible thing like Sebastian. And, so. You don’t turn your back upon a beast. ]
Do not touch me. [ There’s a waver in his voice that’s concentrated fury, but Set might recognize that too. There’s a deep pain there that implies a far deeper wound. ] Touch me again, and I’ll kill you.
[ Ugh. Ugh. He hates feeling so weak, especially against forces that no human could best. Arrogant, awful creatures, all of them. His jaw sets as he recollects himself and stands firm (and now out of Set’s immediate reach). ]
The most important thing. [ He practically spits it out. ] Gathering information. I’m not a brute like you and Sebastian, clearly. Information is more valuable for me.
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[ He only seems to grow more interested, as the boy becomes wrathful. Resentful.
The fury that lives in Ciel is intoxicating, his utter revulsion towards that which towers over him and his desire to conquer it is the same exact thing that had led him to a man like Silco. To become close, entwined, trusted by someone who loathed being taken advantage of ( and Set, even in his own power, knows what that is like ). To rattle Ciel so deeply that their baseline going forward is pragmatism and loathing is not all bad, not to a god that thrives on others' convictions and desire.
And, being categorized as someone to hate? Well, that's okay. The masks he wears for others' benefit ( and his own protection ) are numerous and complex; being necessary but unloved is simply what he was made for. Poisoning others with his existence is part of his design, and for now? Ciel is alive, not a decimated little Shard that served as fuel for Sebastian's violent desires. Keeping him alive? That's within Set's desires. Seeing him grow? That is, too.
He's so small, skinny as a starved thing — a sight that Set's seen enough of, because he caused the decimation of Egypt. The hunger and pain and despair running powerful and rampant in a country he used to protect. This time, he does not lean down to Ciel's level as he speaks. ]
That is why.
[ Because Ciel chose information. ]
You may think me a brute and it is fact that my strength is divine, but the thing I value most is intelligence. The desire to out-prepare, out-wit, out-maneuver is the foundation of war, alongside tactics and weaponry and might. I actually do not care that you are small and young. I am here to counter that. But, do not think that I will rely on your mind, either. I am competitive!
this icon is reserved for set now
And here I thought that Sebastian wasn’t capable of making friends, but no, I see it now. You’re precisely as irritating and impudent as he is, so naturally.
[ Calling a god impudent is probably a pot calling the kettle black, but he doesn’t care. He has no respect for God, or gods of any kind. He’s not sure he believes it, besides, since with his experience (sample size: one), he fully expects a demon to be a liar. He pinches the bridge of his nose like he’s an old man feeling a headache come on. ]
…Your support.
[ He starts, but there’s still a pause, because he can’t believe he’s considering this. But unfortunately, Set is right. He’s a weak thing thrown into a situation where he has no advantages of station or information, at least not yet. He’s still having a hard time wrapping his head around it, but removing all the sheer oddity, the problem is familiar. He needs to succeed and survive, and that means gaining allies. Allies that were steadfast.
…He’s not certain about that qualifier for Set, of course. But if he has the same foul interests as his demon, that’s something to work with. ]
Whims alone don’t answer why you’re so keen. [ Not to him, anyways. ] What do you want? If your interest is the same as Sebastian’s then you should forget it. Foul as he is, I won’t renege on our deal.
no subject
[ Without a doubt, he knows that Ciel will accept. It might take a moment, and it will arrive begrudgingly and with great hostility, but Set is the best option for him — he is trained by the demon, he knows bits and pieces of Ciel, and somewhere inside his head, he still competes to hold as many hearts and minds against Zenith as he can.
There is no Zenith, not here.
No reason to strive to claw up allies, as if to swell rank and file against rivals. There is just a smart, weak human child with more audacity and wrath than his body can contain — and a deep, vested interest. ( He would keep his vow to never steal Sebastian's due from him, but. But! ) ]
I do not want your soul, Ciel Phantomhive. I would not defile the agreement between the two of you; you made it of your own volition.
[ Time is a soup. ]
The man here, called Silco. He was Sebastian's master in the other life. The one who did not so much succeed you, as he inherited your pact. You could say... as I am a god and not a demon, I do not know why humans gravitate to these creatures. Yet, I have to learn. Why not from you?
no subject
I did.
[ He agrees to the assessment even though it’s not totally true. Considering the circumstances, it would be a stretch to say it was totally his volition. But it’s how Ciel chose to see it, even if those reasons were complicated and messy. ]
—And thus you would be better off asking this Silco fellow. [ But he notes that he also has to find Silco and… He’s not sure what. He wants to speak to him, but whether it’s out of rivalry or commiseration, he doesn’t know. ] I did not gravitate towards him, I’ll note.
[ …He wants to forget that night more than anything else. So, he’s also sure he doesn’t want to explain it to Set. But if that’s what he wants, he can at least bait him with information that Ciel would never reveal in the first place. ]
Hmph. I imagine that there’s no refusing your support either. You seem annoyingly persistent. [ this isn’t a compliment but set is sure to take it as one… ] But I want a proper agreement. Surely a god’s oath would not be so weak as to be less valuable than a demon’s.
[ He’s definitely baiting with the last statement, but it’s intentional. He doesn’t trust loyalty, but he trusts pride, especially when it comes from arrogance. ]
no subject
I watched their relationship develop, to its end. And his survival.
[ Set won't mention that it took an Actual Goddess Intervening for Silco to survive having his soul slurped up by the delicatessen that was Sebastian Michaelis, but the point still stands. He watched, interacted and heavily observed aspects of a master-demon contract throughout the years, if not from origin, then from close to it. He also knows there is a difference between Silco and Ciel, in the form of years lived; Silco is older, an adult that had built an established empire from the dirty depths of a woebegotten city to the apex of his grubby power.
Ciel is a child, and a relative mystery.
What Set knows is that he is angry, ruthless and the rabbit is his. ]
If I am persistent, it is solely because it is you.
[ An intriguing, devastatingly misery-laden little beast of a boy. Sharp as a tack, as angry as a hostile storm.
It's a bit like looking into a mirror. ]
A god's oath is not as simple as a demon's, I will say. You must actually put faith in me, in lieu of offering up your soul. A demon does not require much up front, I have found, but I do. Perhaps a formal trial run between us, to determine the parameters of a proper agreement going forward?
no subject
Instead, what makes his frown deepen is how Set’s interest focuses on him so specifically. That’s familiar, unfortunately. He didn’t want to be so damn interesting to these freaks… ]
Then an oath is impossible. I’ve no faith to offer you, nor anyone else, for that matter.
[ He just sighs out the refusal, but it’s clearly not him simply being stubborn. It’s a deeply held belief, and it had predated Sebastian. ]
When you say a “trial run”, what does that entail, precisely?
no subject
[ It's the same sort of request he'd made in the last world, of others who had sought his power. Just wage war in his name.
( Keep him relevant, alive, unforgotten. )
It is then that he twists the book in his hands around, offering it to Ciel with the cover up and spine cradled in his palm. It's a sensible text, detailing the Egyptian pantheon with a modernist lean; an academic eye upon his world that was not saturated with the false superiority of western civilization and its white populace lusting for Rome as the epitome of culture and grace. He's read plenty of that, much of it hailing from what would be Ciel's original era. ]
I propose that, for a trial run, we collaborate to acquire a decided-upon resource. In this world, we have those given identities and occupations — "Hierax", my identity, is a socialite. I perform for the media, in exchange for access to individuals and venus. Depending on what your role is, we work together toward a given target. Someone to have in our corner, perhaps as financial support.
me like "what job can a 13yo have" and then wheezing
But, worst comes to worst, he’s just saying words to the ether, same as any prayer. There doesn’t seem to be any harm in that, save for how foolish he’d feel.
He takes the book hesitantly at first, but his expression does lighten a little bit once he sees the topic. It’s not what he’d been looking for at all, but considering he now has another FREAK!!! Overly invested in him, know thy enemy and all. That also makes his gaze flicker back at Set suspiciously, since he doesn’t fully trust why he’s being given this, but he tucks it under his arm all the same. He’ll absolutely devour it. Later, anyways. ]
…Hm. I believe that is… similar to what I have been assigned. Not that I have a clue what an “influencer” or a “streamer” is. [ me bullying ciel by putting him into the CONTENT MINES ] But it seems akin to a socialite, which I do.
[ Though. That makes him grumble, since as is surely already obvious, this is an extraordinarily curmudgeonly thirteen year old. He doesn’t do public appearances, which is why the general public thinks that the Earl of Phantomhive is perhaps a distant uncle of the deceased family rather than a surviving son. ]
…I loathe it. But the obligations of class and status I know well. I am the Earl of Phantomhive, so needs must that I participate in their vapid activities from time to time.