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patience is NOT my virtue
[ How… bizarre.
It feels like an underwhelming insight, but it’s truly all Sebastian can think about all of this. He prides himself on being extremely adaptable, ready to adjust all of his plans at a moment’s notice, but there is a practical limit to that. And as it turns out, that practical limit is suddenly finding himself summoned (of a sort, at least) to a far-flung future. How does one adjust their plans when they’re based nearly four centuries in the past?
He quickly settles on the practical solution. Odd as it may be, this is still another job. Finish it to perfection, and then he can return to his meal’s side and finish up his business. Perhaps he might even have new tools and insights to make it go a bit more interestingly, if not smoothly.
So, his strategy is simple. It’s no different than the routines he’s learned in Ciel’s service, in fact, for it’s proven quite effective. A demon is cause for concern. But a competent, servile butler is worthy of admiration and trust. There’s no currency more valuable than that.
As such, in his first few days after arriving, Sebastian naturally makes himself quite the busybody. There’s much to learn, since he feels like he’s catching up! He can be found—
It feels like an underwhelming insight, but it’s truly all Sebastian can think about all of this. He prides himself on being extremely adaptable, ready to adjust all of his plans at a moment’s notice, but there is a practical limit to that. And as it turns out, that practical limit is suddenly finding himself summoned (of a sort, at least) to a far-flung future. How does one adjust their plans when they’re based nearly four centuries in the past?
He quickly settles on the practical solution. Odd as it may be, this is still another job. Finish it to perfection, and then he can return to his meal’s side and finish up his business. Perhaps he might even have new tools and insights to make it go a bit more interestingly, if not smoothly.
So, his strategy is simple. It’s no different than the routines he’s learned in Ciel’s service, in fact, for it’s proven quite effective. A demon is cause for concern. But a competent, servile butler is worthy of admiration and trust. There’s no currency more valuable than that.
As such, in his first few days after arriving, Sebastian naturally makes himself quite the busybody. There’s much to learn, since he feels like he’s catching up! He can be found—
- In the kitchens, taking stock of ingredients and very meticulously sampling each new offering with just a small bite.
- At the library, slowly stepping through the aisles and reading seemingly every book’s title. A pair of reading glasses is perched on top of his head, and perhaps a title even catches his attention enough to take it and flip it open.
- Without his suit jacket, but with his sleeves neatly rolled up as he mops the floor of a hallway with a pleasantly calm expression. His gloves are still present, of course.
- At the base laundromat that I assume has to exist, wearing a much more content expression as he crisply folds linens and other practical things that fill the large laundry cart next to the table.
go get him boys ]
ROARS
He doesn't seem to meet Silco's eyes but he knows better. After Tezca and Set, there's such a high chance it's him -- the demon that tried to pull his soul from him with a single press to his lips --.
He still dreamed about that. The feeling of it tearing and ripping. The way it felt like a bad meal on its way out the wrong direction, more sickening than any drug and with it had been the knowledge that he was failing the one goal he'd sacrificed every shred of his soul and mind for -- and now he knew it was for nothing. Nothing.
He'd been doing well with the fact until the reminder of all the little ways he'd somehow compromised and fallen deeper and deeper into his own little world of insanity was right here. Sampling nutrient paste. Innocent as if he had not Sucked his soul out of him. Or tried to.
He left the kitchen as quickly as he arrived, before Sebastian has the opportunity to sink his claws back in. Or greet him, or whatever.
The second was passing through the library, mostly our of boredom. He is trying to still get a handle on this world itself; on the people and what they weren't telling him. That plan was also dashed the moment he saw the glasses and the demon.
The third, he'd had enough. He expected they innocent servile act, because that's what Sebastian did, but the fact that he has not even met his eyes with recognition, knowing, or threat. Which is a threat in of itself, isn't it?
It's the hallways, which are looking especially squeaky clean. It's almost satisfying that he's walking down the hallway with shoes that flake off the detritus of Neo Tokyo in his wake. Slime, mud, bits of garbage and of course -- blood. That one flicks his hand to dispense an amount off and onto the sparkling floor. ]
Oh. [ He scoffed, as if he didn't realize Sebastian was here. ] I would apologize, but... You and I both know you have all the time in the world for this, don't we?
lmao
The second time, it wasn’t nearly as direct. He was engrossed in selecting his book, since there’s so much that he scarcely knows the best place to start. It’s more the motion as someone comes and quickly goes that caught his attention. He peeked from behind the bookshelf to look towards the door, and he’d seen Silco’s back. He could still recognize the man, though, so he’d added an additional impression. What an odd fellow.
By the third—
Well, by the third, he does meet Silco’s gaze completely with recognition, but it’s the mildest form. He’s a familiar stranger that’s made quite the impression without even exchanging words. Normally, he’d use it as an opportunity to engage with him and finally meet this flighty man, but. His attention settles more on the trail that Silco leaves behind him.
On the floors… That he had just cleaned…
It’s not like this is a new feeling for him. Is this not every day in the Phantomhive manor? He goes through all of the effort to make something perfect, and then one of the servants manages to ruin it almost immediately. But at least that was because they were all idiots of the highest caliber. This feels much more intentional, and that’s all but confirmed when he finally speaks to him.
It does fit neatly into a categorization to him, though it’s one that Silco would find supremely insulting if he were aware. The genteel accent, the smartly tailored clothes, the blatant disrespect to his work… Why, that just means he’s of noble birth, clearly. All of the impressions he has so far even make him wonder (with no small amount of cutting sarcasm) if this is the sort of man that his young master would become, were he to live to adulthood.
He smiles coolly and bows lightly. His mask is as perfect as ever despite the deep irritation he actually feels in the moment. ]
Indeed I do, sir. Please, do pardon me. I thought I had set up a marker for the wet floors around the corner, but perhaps someone removed it in error…
[ …He may be in full servant mode here, but that does not mean he will skip out on being passive-aggressive. ]
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As it is, Silco only looks at him for a long, long moment. The man is clearly wearing makeup, covering the scar over that black eye — along with covering the bites and bruising on his neck, because Silco was nothing if not meticulous to cover anything that suggested he was anything more than completely control. You know, until he doesn't. Sebastian, however, would easily notice the signs of makeup, given his eye to detail.
Silco pulls out a kerchief stained brown with leftover blood, and starts to wipe off his hands. ]
I kicked it over.
[ He says, his tone dour. All of that time refusing Sebastian's service outright, and now he wants nothing more than an acknowledgement that the demon that lives in his nightmares is just playing yet another manipulative little game. He knows he is, and it feels important to get it out of him, before he disappears into his room and away from seeing him.
He wonders how long he can go without sleep as a Vampire? Would it be long enough that he can outrun reliving that again? ]
Don't sir me, you know I hate that.
[ Snappy, irritated. ] The act is getting old quick, Sebastian.
[ He's about to pull out a cigar and smoke up the whole hallway, if he has his way. ]
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It’s at least made much easier as Silco continues. He doesn’t hide his confusion, and his expression seems to ask ”Do I?”. Surely, this is a case of mistaken identity, but it’s a guess that’s quickly proven incorrect. ]
I beg your pardon?
[ He’s quite sure he’s never met this man before. He’s not subject to the kinds of doubts that humans would have with their imperfect memory. But he has to pretend it is, though he’ll use it as an opportunity to prompt more information about this little mystery. ]
My apologies… But have we met?
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[ It's not quite to the point where his voice has pitched up, but the dour dip of his tone is laced with sarcasm as sharp as the knife he holds in his pocket. LILITH had decided that this knife was the one to give him, and it hold particular significance because of the origin of said knife.
His fingers slip into his pocket, and he catches the handle. His fingers very nearly want to snap it in two. ]
Yes we've met. [ His tone mocking, like he's playing along with a little game. He tipped his head, and leaned forward. His lips twitch with the ghost of a smile that's far too confident. ] Did you think I would forget? [ He held up a hand, as if to silence him.
He's far too confident. You take too many risks these days, Silco. Foolish man. ]
No, no, that's not it. You want me to question myself, don't you? Play this little game, the innocent ignorance, because you know that I know. You think it will drive me insane, don't you?
[ Well. It kinda is. ]
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It just isn’t the case, though. For once, Sebastian is completely honest in his reaction here.
That’s not to say that he’s ignoring these puzzle pieces before him, though. Every tilt of Silco’s tone and every little movement and word are telling a bit of the story that he’s clearly missing. Why he doesn’t remember can come later. For now, it’s clear that he’s wronged this man in a significant way. And he does not miss how his hand slipped into his pocket there.
…Well. If things escalate, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s fought someone with a mop. ]
Ah… That is…
[ He leans the handle of the mop against his shoulder casually, like he’s relaxing his grip to pay more attention to the conversation than his chores. In reality, it lets him keep a hand closer to the center so that it can become a weapon in a moment’s notice. ]
It would seem it is I who have forgotten, in that case. Are you from—how strange it is to say this—England, circa 1889? An associate of the young master’s, perhaps? I fear I have only arrived here recently, so I must apologize, for I am still getting my bearings. [ And he adds, almost gently: ] I have no quarrel with you, sir.
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No. I'm not, and nor would you catch me dead spending time with your Young Master. What was he, a Duke? [ He pulled a face, using the knowledge more like a cudgel, to swing at Sebastian to pull apart the falsehoods here and there as he could. He wouldn't catch him unaware, and in the unique circumstances that Kenos existed in; they had both been willing to share enough of their worlds in general conversation — that it wasn't just giving up secrets, when they were all dead — that he knew probably more than Sebastian would have given away.
Well.
That and the contract. His hand almost burned with a psychosomatic reminder of the pain of it, like a nail drawn across flesh, and he had so many reminders of that contract already. ]
Let's play along, shall we? [ Sighs... He clearly doesn't believe him, but — ] You may have no quarrel with me, but I have quarrel with you.
[ He leaned forward, and he reeks of the city outside these halls. Of stale cigars and dried blood and some acrid scent underlying it; something nasty and vile, like pollution and electricity combined all in one. It's alien — at least to this version of Sebastian. ]
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But he’s not from their world or time. Or, so he claims. If he were associated with the Undertaker’s strange ploy, then…? Why is his ire fixated on him?
Well, it’s easy to draw out of him, he expects. The man was about to boil over from the feeling, clearly. Just a little more prodding, then. He cants his head to the side slightly, keeping his expression polite and sheepish, even in the face of the urge to wrinkle his nose at the unpleasant mixture of smells. ]
…Then, if you would, I would appreciate being enlightened. I have clearly caused you grave offense, but I scarcely know what to say.
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It's a trick; and the moment he starts to believe him is the moment that it all falls apart.
He knows this. ]
You don't remember — [ He feels like the mark of what Sebastian did to him settles on his soul even now, even though it isn't bared on his body, for all to see, or touch. ] — Trying to take my soul?
[ Silco is a foolish man, and escalating, he is. ] I can't imagine that you would forget the one that got away.
1/2 :)
Ahhh, so that was it.
Inwardly, things click together nicely. That hatred, that rage, he almost feels a bit silly to not recognize it now. He’s seen it so many times, because he purposefully cultivates it. It’s partially for the flavor of it, true, since it is a thing that’s incredibly delicious to his palate. But also?
It’s a lovely thing to simply watch.
He absolutely believes that this man was—will be?—his master. So, what did he sell himself for? Clearly, he’d found it lacking, but they always do. That’s what makes it so very fun. They’ll drive themselves to absolute ruin, and for what? He hadn’t gotten away at all, even if he claims otherwise. After all, here he is, staring at the beast that could gobble him up just for the pleasure of it.
…But what’s the fun in that?
This man will always know the visceral fear of belonging to him, won’t he?
What a delectable thing. ]
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He leans back a bit like Silco’s words suddenly make him aware of how he’s invading his personal space. Like Silco is mad, and he’s trying to come up with a way to politely disengage from this very hostile conversation. ]
Your… soul?
[ Ciel’s orders had been clear, and truthfully, Sebastian found it to be a useful one to follow anyways. Unless truly backed into a corner where he must, he reveals nothing of what he is. He may be suspiciously competent, may tread on the edge of believability for the fun of it, but that’s it. Even if this man was his master at some point, that changed nothing of the present. Even though he wasn’t here, Ciel was his master, and his word was Sebastian’s only law. ]
No… I do not remember it. [ It’s very much said in the tone that asks what that even means. ] Perhaps you are mistaking me for someone else?
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His single eye narrows. ]
You answered to your name, didn't you? [ he snaps, a derisive hiss of air through teeth. ] I am making no mistake, demon. You and I both know I am no fool.
[ Well. Only so much a fool as to contract with Sebastian. ]
If you intend to continue with this farce, do not treat me like a simpleton as well.
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[ He trails off, since it’s not like he can explain the gaps either, even if he wanted to reveal what he was. This is all new to him. Going from his realm to humans’ is one thing, but travelling through time? That’s very thoroughly outside of his abilities. He’d thought it impossible, in fact. ]
I do not know what to tell you. It is no farce, for I do not even know your name, I swear to you. [ Completely true, and as fun as it is to see the man impotently squirm, it’s also a bit annoying for him on the practical side too. ] And, a demon… Of all the fanciful things…
[ He makes an discontent noise, and he takes a step back, like Silco is making him feel a bit unnerved. That part is the act. ]
I… fear there is nothing I can do or say to convince you, though. You seem quite determined to hold a certain image of me in your head.
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[ Honestly, as if Sebastian won't be asking around and learn this quickly enough anyway? He doesn't even think about it. He doesn't introduce himself, Silco genuinely doesn't think he has to. Maybe he would be smarter about this — he should be smarter about this, but this man's face haunts his dreams. He remembers that feeling. He won't ever forget that feeling, just like he'll never forget Vander's hands around his throat, or sinking a knife into his back (lol, except...) or the way Jinx leapt into his arms that first night.
Some things stuck with you. Silco was the type to never let something like that go. ]
Who you are is one of many images in my head. After all... [ He reached up, and drug a hand down his lips, a slight pull of the bottom revealed the barest hint of fangs. ] Oh, well.
Need I say more? I have seen all of you.
[ Silco maybe should have worded it a little clearer, but he can play at that fun game of burying meaning in phrasing. ]
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It’s far from his mind for now, though, since Silco keeps throwing him for loops with every new revelation. Or rather, half revelation. Since, honestly, the real meaning of Silco’s words doesn’t even come to mind at all. Why would it? That phrase has a very straightforward interpretation, and it’s very common that he ends up having certain relations with his masters. Humans were curious, after all.
…Though, he does feel a bit of sympathy for— Himself, he supposes? He really prefers to lay with beautiful people, and Silco is very thoroughly not that. Ah, well. ]
Ah, have you, now? That is—
[ He coughs into his hand, a polite ahem, and forces himself to blush. Ugh. He always hates this feeling of moving his blood around. Human bodies were so inconvenient. ]
Do forgive me for being so blunt, but that is a bit inappropriate. Whatever you may have done with—Whoever they are. That is your business with him, not I.
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[ Now it's his turn to back up. What did he — Oh so when Sebastian says something with two meanings, its fine, but when he does it... it's taken the wrong way. His eyes roll in his head, tipped upward in an old motion of annoyance. As if this was an old grievance. ]
That's absolutely not what I meant. Is everything about sex with you?
[ Ace4Ace. Silco's perception may be skewed, given the opium den Sebastian had once run for him, and what he knew happened in it. And Yura. And Matt. And whoever else he'd been involved with. Silco knew there were more.
Silco simply hadn't thought that the obvious answer was the one that he'd err toward. ]
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[ What in the world was he getting up to around this man?? Sex certainly has its place a useful tool, but...?? He'd never really been a demon to partake in it nearly as much as some of his brethren. His baffled expression is once again completely genuine this time. ]
...I really think you must be confusing me with someone else.
[ He's still fairly certain that this fellow must have had a Covenant with him, but... Maybe not completely. What was it that the people had said? Multiple worlds? Maybe there's a version of him out there that's a bit more... carnal. ]
But—ahem—How else would you mean? To see all of me, well. I think it is a very reasonable interpretation, sir.
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If you're a simpleton, certainly.
[ His hands slide back into his pockets, to fight the urge to lash out, fingers shaking with something between fear and rage. He was going to play at this, was he? He was going to continue to play pretend and pull the wool over his eyes? He's not having it. He won't let him trick him. He won't let himself be fooled again. Not by Sebastian Michaelis.
He leaned forward, and says: ]
I don't take kindly to being told I am incorrect, Sebastian, nor do I take kindly to being lied to.
[ Says a liar. He knows Sebastian will say he's not lying, but Silco's looking for them, the words that straddle meaning, implying one thing while saying another. ]
And I know that this is a form you only wear. You are free to play as if you do not know me; but I know your ways, and I know that you will try to worm your way into being well-liked by everyone around you. Oh, but don't worry, you won't have to try with me. I already know your tricks. You won't fool me, no matter how much you try.
1/2
But as he continues. It’s not the fact that Silco points out the fact that this is merely one face he wears. Rather, it’s pointing out how he manipulates others. ]
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I see. What a clever man you are.
[ His shoes click smartly on the floor as he steps forward. He’s clearly no longer playing at being the meek servant, since he’s stepping into Silco’s personal space. But his gaze never leaves Silco’s. ]
You put it so cruelly. “Worming my way into being well-liked”? If you know me so well…
[ He cants his head lightly, and even that polite little gesture feels almost menacing. ]
Then, surely, you know I will be cross indeed if you lacked discretion in this matter.
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I wonder who honed my knack for cruelty, hm?
[ Between the both of them, they both knew who was the master of cruelty here. Silco was no child, playing at small cruelties himself, but he was also lacking in experience in the same way that most humans would, when faced with a demon who has lived longer than his species.
Kind of, but I'm not doing a runeterra history or anything.]
If you want my silence, Sebastian, you should know threats don't work on me.
[ His smile was sharp, and self satisfied. A little half-laugh there. ] After all, I lived through your covenant once.
You may as well make it worth my while.
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…But it would defeat the purpose. He wants to be seen as unassuming and nonthreatening. Silco might know the truth of him, but no one else should.
except set, but,So, he just laughs. Whether he’s impressed or incredulous, it’s hard to say. ]How greedy. As to be expected, I suppose.
[ His masters truly tend to fall into certain patterns, but such is his taste. ]
So? What is it that you want?
[ He can make guesses, but that’s only because of his own cleverness and sharp insights into other people’s hearts. For example, no matter what it is Silco asks, he will pay for it. He doesn’t need violence to punish him for impudence. ]
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[ He waved a hand, as if dismissive. As if it were nothing. Not even a trifle.
They both knew the motion was meant to dismiss and make light of what was clearly a large ask. Silco knew a few things about Sebastian, more than most, but one thing that had stuck in his mind, was how he had made Silco promise that his daughter would keep his true form under wraps. He had used a part of their covenant for that negotiating point. If it had been important enough to call Jinx to mind — despite the fact that she was little more than a crystalized soul — then it was important enough to make a deal about. ]
I will keep my mouth shut, Sebastian. About you, about your nature, your... power.
[ His words emphasize with the last, of course. Silco had always been desperately seeking it. Sebastian had a well of it to go around. ]
In exchange, if I ask a doable, clandestine favor here and there, I would appreciate your cooperation.
For our mutual benefit, of course. [ His hands clasp together, and he smiles. ]
We're just allies, working toward the same goal, after all. According to LILITH.
[ Silco really did think he was being clever i swear to fucking christ ]
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Absolutely not.
[ It’s a surprisingly blunt refusal, especially from Sebastian. Surely, they went over this when forging the Covenant, didn’t they? Yet, no. They really hadn’t. Sebastian had very cleverly avoided telling Silco too much, since exploiting his ignorance was to his advantage. Silco had assumed that it was a deal approached with fair terms. That was never the case. ]
I cannot accept indefinite conditions. Despite your belief otherwise, I do not know you, so I do not even know what your clandestine favors would even entail. I must ask you to be more specific.
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Please, I am not asking for unending work. [ He rolled his eyes. ] You know I do most things myself, whether you liked it or not.
[ Stubbornly, he refuses to accept that this is not the Sebastian he dealt with. To be fair, Silco was stubborn, and relied on his own self-reliance time and time again, didn't he? He didn't want to be dependent. ]
No, I am merely asking for the occasional... paid work, if you will. Cleanup, or elimination, though I know how much you like to... [ His eyes drifted into the hallway. ] Clean. [ He sighed somewhat dramatically, as if it had both just occurred to him, and that he was giving something up.
I hate him]Only until I settle into position in the underworld. That's hardly unfair.
[ It's not like he's asking him to invent shimmer, help him take over a bar, kill a god, keep him from dying to myriad enemies; etc etc etc ]
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…No, he likely doesn’t. ]
And how long would that take? Months? Years? You are asking for unending work, for is it not to your advantage to draw this out as far as possible? You are asking for my skill as you might for a Covenant, but you are not willing to pay the proper price. Not that I am taking on further clients, besides.
[ His loyalty to Ciel is steadfast and unquestioned. It’s what the boy had paid for, after all. ]
You may ask for my services three times. This is a generous offer, and you should take it.
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He scoffed, something a little insulted. ] Years? If I didn't know you, I would almost believe your ignorance for that alone.
[ Silco is a patient man when he must be, but he thinks poorly enough about the people here... he doesn't think he will have to. He is a planner by nature — though nowhere at the caliber of Sebastian — and he has several paths forward. ]
Trust me, I know what your "covenant" provides, this is hardly to that level. [ Well, not entirely.
But, this was dealmaking. He wanted nothing that was the covenant again, he knew what it felt like, to have his soul tugged from him, that searing pain that was like bile rising from somewhere deep inside of him. Nauseating, harrowing, painful, even more than the toxins chewing away at the flesh around his eye, or hands around his neck, gasping for air and fighting for even a shred of it.
No, he didn't want that. He still saw those red eyes hovering over his; and then the way he'd showed up yet again after he'd escaped, as if this was normal.
He had that feeling of his back of his neck, like he was being watched then, and he does not doubt that he will have it again now.
He offers three. Three for his silence. To keep from espousing exactly what the demon is, what his form is. Protect his secrets in exchange for three opportunities.
But three opportunities would be three opportunities. How many times will he get into trouble.? How many times will he have someone's hands around his neck (how many have been threatened in the past month alone?) or a mobster's dangerous weapons? This was a strange world, with unique weapons that he hadn't quite understood.
Three opportunities are better than death, better than even a few months, which who knows, could pass by with only his old tactics and no need to use the demon. It was no development of shimmer — did he still have the knowledge to make that hidden behind that faux ignorance? — he hated him for pretending like this. He knew, though, that no matter how many times he called him out, Sebastian would never drop an act if he didn't have to.
And why would he? The only other person who knew was Set, wild and fae and probably gleeful at the game presented by this farce. ]
For three requests, I'll keep your secret.
[ Not that he thought anyone would have believed him. ]
1/2
Ah, yes. How strange, that I would not know of your plans or your skills, thus I must assume years of work being necessary. Could it perhaps be because I do not know you? No, surely not. It could not possibly be the simplest answer.
[ he is SO over this, can you tell, ]
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We have a deal, then. So long as your requests do not conflict with my master’s orders, then I am thrice yours. And in exchange, so far as anyone else is concerned, I am a butler and nothing more. I shall leave it to your imagination what action I may take if I find that you renege on this agreement.
[ It’s formal and precise, down to the threat that ends it. It feels similar to how they had formed their Covenant so long ago, but there’s no magic, no ritual. This truly is just their word, but Sebastian takes it no less seriously. His expression makes that clear. ]
Now. [ He takes up his mop again, but only to use it to nudge at Silco’s feet lightly. ] If that is all, may I continue? You have made a mess of the floors.
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And yet... he supposes that he expects it. Why wouldn't Sebastian gaslight him until he's completely complacent, and secure? He isn't going to let him, that's for sure. Even still... he deals with the devil. Perhaps some things never change.
He had at least expected magic. Something that pacts and binds them. This is all about word more than pact, for one brief, single moment, Silco wonders if this means he could have done without, or if Sebastian would be the one to break it. But no, he was playing at butler, wasn't he? Still loyal to his master, supposedly. It's a neat little tidy package, that he can play at this innocent act.
Silco only looks at him, a long moment. That pitch eye with a glowing center stares at him for a long, long moment. He scuffed his metal-toed shoe on the ground, leaving another streak on the ground. ]
Don't worry, I do not break my deals. Something you'll learn — [ and then muttered: ] if you didn't know that already.
[ He says, having technically broken his deal with Sebastian but hey, that wasn't his fault ]
A pleasure doing business with you, as always.
[ He starts to leave, a flick of his hands to expel another spatter of blood onto the floors. Just to be petty.
Then he pulls out a cigar and clips it, letting the end fall to the ground. He lit it, and took his sweet time walking down the hall, his steps still leaving scraps of mud and whatever filth he picked up.
As soon as he turned the corner, he started moving faster. He had to find Set, now. ]
no subject
Set does not skulk around.
When it comes to Sebastian Michaelis, he has never given quarter, nor a moment's rest to the meticulous demon. An onslaught of deliberate messes, minor annoyances in the form of the slightest deviation in color, shape, size, location, or order of things — each an ( affectionately ) cast lure to draw the demon into a trap. Certainly nothing to harm him, only to draw him deep into a tantalizing web of sloppiness and imperfection — leading him directly to a simple, relatively undecorated room.
Set waits there, coiled through the room as slender rivers of sand.
And when he appears, simmering bright and beaming, it's to shut the two of them into the enclosed space and absolutely bodyslam Sebastian into his arms, hands scooping at his waist and hips as he lifts him. Up, up as though he will swing him around in romcom fashion. And he does, with a ringing sound of glee — before promptly attempting to swing the demon into the floor. A brutal, sharp powerbomb with an ole! thrown in — his teeth flashing in the dim light. ]
— I knew you would turn up, oh I knew it! You are too necessary a thing for LILITH to overlook, Sebastian!
1/3
…If he didn’t know better, he would say these messes are deliberate. But that would be preposterous. The Outsiders see to be a bit rambunctious, but not purposeful in their mess-making. Who would do such a thing?
So, truly, he has no suspicions as he passes by the nondescript room. He almost passes it by completely, but the little trap works perfectly. He steps back to the door as he sees the discarded candy wrapper, and he steps inside with a beleaguered sigh. At this rate, he’s going to arrange for a lecture for these slobs… ]
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Sebastian’s immediate reaction will make it perfectly clear that something is amiss, because it’s not at all what Set would expect in response. His expression is sharp in his surprise as Set slams into him and begins to lift him. That part is essentially normal. But his eyes stay tea-colored rather than the vivid, vicious red that matches Set’s own. In that brief moment, his sharp, vicious mind is clearly at work as he assesses a potential threat and how to neutralize it—It’s not recognition at all.
Yet, there’s no claws, no shadows. He brings his elegantly gloved hand up and tightens his fingers into a point. He can just hit one soft spot in his trachea, and even someone experienced in hand-to-hand combat would crumble from the sudden, breathtaking blow. Set can probably even recognize that’s his intention. It’s efficient and harsh, but perfectly non-lethal. Perfectly within human ability.
…But the calculation changes with that gleeful sound. His severe expression becomes confused instead, but he barely has time to process that, because up and up he goes with surprising strength. First, he dully and sarcastically thinks “ah, another Finnian, wonderful”, but the momentum changes.
He regrets not acting on the impulse of self-defense immediately.
He braces himself for the impact, but he grabs Set’s arms tightly as he goes down. It winds him painfully, but he doesn’t let up on his grip as he pulls Set down and forward, enough that he can draw his knee up right into Set’s diaphragm to return the favor. For Set, it’s not the first time they’ve been in this position at all… But this is probably more delightful to him that the demon playing at being alluring. ]
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I did not realize— [ He huffs out the first part with a pained tone, but starts to sit up. ] —I was expected.
1/2
Folding Sebastian's limbs in his arms is a familiar thing, and indeed, he can remember claws and shadows and fangs, rich opium breathed into his body and shadow swallowed down his throat, a demon's claws slipping through the dark waters of his divinity. A quest, for pleasure, to uncover s name. Winning something like Sebastian to his cause, through patience and perseverance.
It does not take him long to realize the summation of these little things: the lack of claws and eyes in the dark, the fluidity of violence in response, the lack of recognition. The fact that he was the one who sought Sebastian out — when he knows for certain that such a fastidious and detail-oriented creature has likely gone through any available records kept on the Outsiders.
And had not come to him, to ward off this sort of violent greeting, to discuss the steps to take to allow Sebastian to operate in the shadows. ]
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I expected you to arrive with me, rather than so belatedly — but nonetheless, your being here is better than not. It is my turn to be your senior!
[ Lying to Sebastian would be a boring thing to do, and there are other moves to make to affirm the lessons he'd learned; to test them on the very being who had instructed him. ]
I am one who knows you quite intimately, whereas you... will catch up. You are called Sebastian Michaelis, you are a demon and my best friend.
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Predictably, he starts to collect himself, since he’s seemingly not content to just lay on the floor this time. He does so while Set continues speaking, but there’s quite a lot in those little statements. His brow knits together just a little bit at “intimately”, followed by a genuine seeming deepening of those creases and a frown at “demon”, and finally, the most genuine of the three?
A look of utter bafflement at “best friend”, naturally. ]
I—
[ He starts to speak, then stops as he puts a gloved hand to his head gingerly as if this were all giving him a headache. Perhaps it is, if only metaphorically. That he so casually calls him out as a demon is the most troubling of these revelations, and it’s only Sebastian’s sharply controlled presentation that prevents him from expressing his displeasure. He has to carefully, manipulatively speak when someone stumbles across a truth he doesn’t want to admit to, after all. He has to deny it as a human would without ever actually denying it at all. ]
Sir… [ He starts, opening his eyes again, and his expression is the polite mask of dealing with someone difficult. ] I do apologize, but I am afraid we have never met, at least by my recollection. That may be my name, but this seems to be a case of a mistaken identity? I am simply [ one hell of ] a butler, and just as much a God-fearing man as my lord…
[ It’s surely a very funny thing for Set, but the troubled frown really is quite convincing. At least when you didn’t know the truth and the story there with certainty. ]
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Softly, he touches his palm to the side of his face. A mou of regret filling his mouth, softening his brows. Oh? Is he mistaken? What a shame that he is! ]
Are you certain that is the route you wish to take with this god of war, dear demon?
[ His pupils thin, mouth curling wicked and long; a rush of dark sands encompasses his skull, binding the red tresses below a pale headcloth and long, delicate snout of an ethereal animal. Not quite cat, not quite hound. ]
Because, if you are not a demon — you will die easily! As I will slaughter Ciel Phantomhive's "simple butler" for the crime of wearing the face of someone I am quite partial to!
[ AND HE FUCKING SWINGS ]
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A god…?
[ His immediate impulse is to think of him as a madman, since surely not— But the rush of sand and what it forms stops that thought. He recognizes the headcloth and helmet both, though it’s been a very long time indeed since he’s seen anything like them. It’s really all he needs to at least take him seriously enough to pull away preemptively. He may not have met a god before, but with this iconography? He’d take no chances in trusting Set the usurper to be reasonable.
He's correct, of course. So, though his eyes narrow with more suspicion that he drops his master’s name so readily, he’s ready for that swing. He dips back gracefully, and his steps are quick as he creates more distance between them, but he’s also certain that Set will pursue. He brings his fists up as he steps into a fighting posture, since there’s not exactly room to retreat in the small room, so that means defending himself.
…Or, such is the butler’s justification. The demon is a bit more interested to see what a so-called god can do. ]
I suppose I should have guessed that gods would be so petty.
[ And once Set comes within his range, it’s not actually his hands he uses. He feints to the side, especially if Set swings again, and once he’s just past, he turns partially to add more momentum to a sharp kick at Set’s side. He’s seemingly quite dedicated to keeping his skills within human confines, or such would be the impression that most would get. Set is uniquely positioned to understand the difference if that kick connects—There’s much more strength behind it than even most well-trained humans could manage, and it’s precisely, deftly targeted to break or severely bruise a rib. ]
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[ Set knows this creature is who he thinks he is.
He has knowledge of the demon that others do not, and convincing him to admit to his existence is the goal he harbors. Clearly, Sebastian doesn't know him. The demon speaks truths, preferring to craft his conversation around the clever use of his words than lying. Something about the pleasure in cruel truths, entrapping the paranoid and self-destructive within their own minds. It's not about that anymore.
It's about the crunch of his body, when Sebastian's kick connects. The way his flesh gives way, falling into itself like a pit — he becomes sands, kicked up in a flurry around that lashing limb, swallowing it in a flash into the depths. He entangles Sebastian within himself, to hold him steady as he elongates like a serpent. To try and wrap his hands around those wrists, held like a boxer before him, and laugh with a full mouth and sharp teeth. Anything to restrict him for the moment. ]
— you look so silly, without claw and shadow! Fighting me as if you need to cling to your disguise. I can accept that you do not recognize me in the way I recognize you.
[ That's out of the way, now! ]
I just want all the nonsense out of the way, now.
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…Of course, not having that bond also means that he has no idea that Set would be thrilled by that anyways.
There’s not much he can do to dodge Set’s advance like this, but he does snap one hand down and out of his immediate grasp, but only to swing it back up quickly in an uppercut. It’s not Set’s jaw he’s aiming for, though. He’s trying to catch the snout of his helmet instead to try and send it flying. If Set will just shrug off the blows into sand, then he’ll at least be petty. ]
What a funny thing to say. Surely my best friend would understand the necessity of proper presentation.
[ His sarcasm is more passive-aggressive than scathing, but still. It’s much more the Sebastian that Set knows than his incredibly servile act. ]
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Aiming to damage the creature's pride and sense of control would be suicide, for anything that could grow anew between them. It's why he begins to unfold from around Sebastian, form turning brittle and breaking away from his limb. Caught on the outs, without his helm. Even if he doesn't fully need it, thanks to LILITH's particular form of summoning. ]
This is much more fun, though.
[ Wrestling with a dangerous demon, taunting and toying with him. It's the most delight Set's felt since leaving Kenos ( which was also more stressful ), in a while. ]
I just wanted to play with you again. You'll learn all about my appetites, I promise. I know about yours, after all.
they're so back (derogatory)
It’s as Set starts to unfold that Sebastian indeed drops some of the pretense, for there’s little that human ability could do against such sand. He pulls his leg back sharply and pivots as soon as he has both feet are firmly planted again. It’s no shadow or claws, but the way he pushes forward is decidedly not human. It’s too fast, too strong, and subtly… A bit more than he’d ever displayed in Kenos, simply because of its more egalitarian views on how power was distributed amongst the residents.
Normally, he would grab at someone’s clothes, but in lieu of that, he grabs at Set’s neck as he pushes him back forcefully. Their faces linger close in a familiar way, and the pleasant, rusty brown of his eyes are just as red as Set’s. There’s just enough of a smile to make his thoughts clear—This is more fun, isn’t it?
But he doesn’t speak until he’s pinned Set against the nearest wall or he escapes his grasp. Either way, it comes with a velvety laugh. ]
How impolite to have me at such a disadvantage. Have I not stirred your heart enough to be given a more proper introduction?
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He can feel the wall as it aligns hard with his spine, his chin pushed up to bare the long line of his neck as he's driven. Tension flows through him, ready to bear back against Sebastian. To sink claw and tooth into him, until he flays through false skin and muscle — and maybe organs if he'd deigned to wear them — until he finds the darkness. The true shape of "Sebastian Michaelis". Instead, he rises on his toes and slips his hands toward the other's waist. A finger, two tucked into the front of his pristine shirt, straining against a button as if he might
just
sprout a claw and sheer it off. A tiny, petty little victory in leaving Sebastian disheveled. ]
All part of the pomp, Sebastian! You cannot rush the process!
[ He laughs, like an animal hunting in the distant dark; an eerie, shrill little sound that comes off sharp teeth and radiates from deep within his chest. Red eyes. That agreeable sigh. Set does not, cannot love, a demon. But, there is a deep affinity he has for Sebastian. Forging it anew, in a new shape, is akin to walking back into a situation that could end in his ruination. It's like going back to someone who could hurt you, thinking yourself prepared this time.
It's also a test of his intellect, a competition he plays with himself. ]
I am Set, Egypt's god of war and the desert. Hello, again and for the first time!
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Yet, it seems that his tone was well chosen, he thinks. He laughs obligingly at Set’s hand, because whether the gesture edges towards flirtation or disembowelment, it’s deeply entertaining.
…So, the fact that Set knows him so well to do neither is the most successful ploy. The pop of the button diffuses the vicious tension into the still very genuine annoyance. His brow twitches just slightly when it’s combined with Set’s cheerful, malicious compliance, but even so. He let’s go of his neck as he draws a half-step back. ]
…Surely a fistfight is more of a rush of process than a civil greeting.
[ He glances to the button, but refrains from the urge to collect it, at least for now. He’s already taken note of a certain lack in quality of clothing (by his standards), so he’ll definitely be collecting it to fix his shirt later… He sighs lightly as he looks back up at Set, and there’s a brief sharpness as he clearly takes measure of him again and considers his best course of action. ]
Your headdress does you no favors in anonymity, if that is what you desire. [ Is pointing that out really necessary? No. ] Lord Set, is it? Your appetites must be vast indeed if we have crossed paths before.