Children were weird. He didn’t make a sound for a while, trying to process. Wasn’t he supposed to be big bad and evil? Oh wait… That was just what the books said about his job. He in truth was just…
Confused and misunderstood.
Is this how the Heaven’s Council wanted him to die, from a young souls kindness? Maybe the sweets were poisoned or… No that didn’t seem right, his nose wasn’t picking up on anything. “Ah right… I will, not one to be too forgetful after all.”
Says the one who left a certain dragoness in the forest, covered in light magic burns.
“But I have nothing to give to you, young man, which seems awfully unfair.” Though any gift that old Satan could give the boy probably would end up cursed and hurting someone. That was the cursed magic of his after all. He still felt like the boy deserved something though – no one… Well besides a friend or two had shown him kindness ever since his days as a human were long gone. “I’m not exactly a good of a cook as you are –.” I don’t even need eat.
“But if there’s anything you ever wanted to do kid, maybe I could help.” He would be careful though of his magic (maybe asking the two women in his disposal to help), but he still managed to give the other a smile.
Odd how a soul had made the overlord of hell not so grumpy like he was not too long ago. He wanted to see a certain angel spill tea in his presence but he would just have to wait until next time his mood went sour.
“Not exactly ol’ Saint Nick but… I gotta’ few tricks up my sleeves for someone who lives under a rock.”
Emil’s head tipped to the side. The other’s pauses, the looking, as-if he’d done something wrong. He continued his smile, warm and awaiting the comments he would ( undoubtably ) receive. A noncommittal ‘ yes ’ or an ‘ i’ll try ’ and then push him away, waiting for the next time. However, what he got in it’s stead was something … unexpected.
A feeling of melancholy was what he felt. The warmth in reception which had not been had in so-long. His smile turned much more bitter sweet, yet he simply waited. The thought of asking for something … well, to be honest. His smile brightened once more. Turning back the tides to how it had been before. His hand catching the back of his head, a fine blush going to cross pale cheeks.
Oh, how to say such a thing without sounding strange.
“Actually, I can think of one thing I want … “
It wasn’t all that big a something, yet, as he drifted off into his silence, he glanced away. The one thing he would want in return for a gift? Well … it’s quite simple, really. His eyes return, his pause having satisfied whatever necessary need for it he had wanted. His fingers moved, hand sliding from his hair, to right in front of him.
“I’d want your name … if, you w-wouldn’t mind?”
Soft laugh, his head tipped to the side. “You did say that you could help if I wanted something, right? Mine’s Emil – if it m-makes it any easier.”
After all, what else could he wish for? He who outlived humans and half-elves alike, only accompanied by the many years by those who shared his eternal state of existence.
Maybe it was insanity catching up to him – no… That didn’t seem right either as his free hand curled up, the fingers slipping against the raw skin. He gave little to no emotion with the laugh that slipped his lips. It was so menacing to hear himself laugh like that man… What was his name again? The man that the Heavenly Council said to play errands boy with?
Lucifer … A demon under that skin … A monster under all those lies.
Maybe that’s why his feathers were falling, seeming dark compared to the purity that came with angels. Maybe he should’ve just let that eye-patched ass finish him off for his crimes instead of hiding behind that strange Neps girl…
He flinched with the thoughts before hearing the next question, hearing, seeing the boy move to try and comfort him in a way that not many would dare to do. He was covered in the blood of a family that now he was starting to think that they didn’t deserve to die.
Wow… That blond brat was right… I am stupid.
Though he pulled himself up straight, the tears leaving trails as he took a breath to listen to the spirit. Odd how even though he said such things, he didn’t jump for his dagger again. Becoming soft like a putty almost.
“Not really. I work all day and night I can’t stop or else I get yelled at by some people that aren’t the prettiest of folks…”
Actually, they seemed to be nastier than his beloved crush that turned him down every time. He understood why ( an arch had duties and love couldn’t be a part of that ) but he still wanted it.
“They are the ugliest of monsters… I guess that’s why my head is pounding, because they played me like a fiddle…”
Emil kept quiet. Listening to the heartbreaking laugh, one held back with bitterness and tears. A time lost, long-gone from his thoughts. He had felt similar. Reminded him of who he had killed, who he had been, what he had been. The alliances he had crafted, created, centurions under his wing, monsters at his command.
There was a silence to him. Thinking … Thinking … Did he know? How heart-broken he sounded?
“You could … always s-stop.”
It was a meek suggestion, but one that had taken a difficult amount of time to breathe. Blonde hair shifted, ruffling past his cheeks. “I mean … if, if you dislike what they do. Couldn’t you settle th-things on your own terms?” Or had it been like that from the beginning?
Bringing into question what was his choices? Emil wouldn’t know, he couldn’t … but, he could empathize quietly, lean towards and offer sympathy towards. Ponder and offer questions for more thought. Anything which might grow to lengths of depression, screaming, ripping into one’s skull. There’s a soft laugh, eyes closed sweetly, head cocking towards the other.
“Y-you probably don’t know this – but I didn’t know I was a spirit originally. That I … w-was … Ratatosk.”
His thumb moved, gliding over the digits of the fingers he held. “I thought I was human. S-so…when I found out.” When he had learned … when he had heard Tenebrae confirm it, deny his existance( while not full-out) as Emil. That he was simply … ‘Lord Ratatosk’ from then on.
He gave a soft giggle. “It was difficult. It all felt o-orchestrated. And, in-part … it was.” Because, as who he was, he knew it had been. Planned, from the very beginning. His eyes softened, shaking his head. Ratatosk had used the last figment of a memory to craft an individual. His pain, his tortured soul, enduring so much, until he went dormant. Allowing a facade to take it’s place, using a young girl to keep him hidden.
Providing a catalyst. It giving a bittersweet smile.
“But, you know? Everything I d-did … I think I would do it again. If g-given the chance, I mean.”
Because, even if he had to go through that suffering again … he would. “Is there anything y-you would do differently?” He queried, “If there is … m-maybe … the things you’d do differently, are the things you sh-should look to fix first.”
He looked like a child. Yet he’d been alive for over thousands of years. Had been a protector of a tree, stirring light mischief for his own fun. Had stopped the opening of the Guinnungigap, invasion of worse demons just by his mere existence – yet, when it came to Emil. Nobody ever seemed to see past the child.
“If you don’t want to, th-that’s fine too! It’s just … what I’ve noticed.”
Why the Hell was this kid still here? Oh… Right, the reason he attacked the ‘ kid ‘ was because of that itchy feeling – a demon but a spirit. What was he supposed to do in a situation like this? He was down for the count really, that object that was once beating in his chest as a human and was gone seemed to be striking so much pain into him.
“Don’t you understand spirit I don’t want your help – it’s nothing you can even help with so just go away.”
The wings against his back weren’t whole. Feathers seemed to be missing, torn even as skin underneath was scarred. That was his nature though, picking fights with dragons that now knew how to get him to back away. His wings were still recovering from the ONE mistake of breaking that … collar from the damned girl.
The simple name made him twitch. He knew that – angels had to know the names of spirits that they went after so it was no coincidence that he had already had the name on his tongue yet when the question was asked – a much simpler one at that, he gave a huffed breath, ignoring the tears with disheveled hair, blue optics glancing towards the warm hand placed upon his. Odd… But also painful.
Why did he keep having the feeling of little kids trying to do the same, ones that cheered out PapA … His next few words were spat out, in pain and with a breath seeming caught in his throat.
“Kaito Samil – M-my name’s … My name’s Kaito …”
His smile did not hinder upon the refusal of him simply being there. His fingers were gently, carefully moving to cradel the palm of the hand in his own. He knew people like this, and it felt bitter on his tongue to reference such a man as the one who reminded him of this person. But, perhaps, if he could get through here, his uncle( not truly related by blood or anything but name) could be talked to. Could be told of difference between monster and –
“Kaito … that’s a g-good name, you have.”
It was. Even as his eyes glanced to the feathers against his back, then towards him. He did not move the hand anymore than he had previously, only leaned a bit closer. Childish face, green optics full of warmth and age. Death … he wasn’t afraid of death. Because he knew … just a small part of him did, that, even upon his death, a regeneration would occur.
Where his strength would be forced to come together, just so that he may also have a living body, easily hidden among the societies of humans. And if that were to occur …
“What do you d-do, Kaito? I mean … “ there’s a thrown glance, “when you’re not h-hunting demons, like me.”
That is what he had called him, hadn’t he? And a part of him could not deny the fact. It was confusing, even for him, to fully grasp. Power beyond human comprehension, it felt, sometimes, beyond his own. Yet it all was there. The knowledge touching at his tongue, blond hair moving as he steadied his gaze forward.
How else was he to react? “I l-like to cook.” He hummed lightly, “I also take c-care of monsters, making sure nobody ever gets hurt.” The smile was still there, his head tilting back to him, shoulders leaning forward in an almost cheery attitude. “Do you have th-things like that?”
He couldn’t tell what was going on. His mind breaking it seemed as he fell to his knees, letting his hands reach for the ground. Tears seemed to come free, blue strands shifting as his head faced down. The question was simply ignored as tears dripped.
“Why does it matter… A second ago my blade was about to eat your n-neck if you do not remember…”
What was this broken feeling? There was a hole empty and it had only begun to just hit him. He hadn’t felt this pain of the memories gone by in so long so why now…
“Just get the hell away.”
“Uhm…”
Well, this was certainly new. Emil wasn’t used to people breaking down upon raising a sword at him. He had attempted to difuse the situation ( or was going to ) but the mentality of this other seemed to help him. Blue strands of hair fell over the other’s eyes, fingers, long and digging into the dirt.
Shifting a bit closer, knees pressed into the dirt, and Emil sat by. He did not leave, like the other might have wanted.
“Because … “ It was a slow start, “ you look like you’re in p-pain. I don’t like leaving people who appear to b-be in so much agony alone … “
Everyone needed a friend. That was just how life worked. His own hand ( gently, awkwardly ) reached, pressing against the other’s fingers. Warmth in his touch, a slow, timid smile reaching his lips.
Hands raise, lifting to press forward awkwardly. Hues of elmerald squeezed tight before opening again, staring at the blue-haired person and blinked curiously.
What in the living hell? Did this boy not even realize whom he was speaking too. Mister big bad and evil, at least to the angels and anyone with religion, so again — did this boy have any clue whom he was talking to? That satan, fallen angel due to insanity and the other things, was actually standing right in front of a boy who was handing him a present.
For the first time, he actually didn’t know what to do. What to think or even say, even as the kid gave a smile and said those two words. A cat had caught his tongue and he was standing there in completely confusion. If the kid was fooling him— he did a pretty good job since there was nothing that the king of hell could even think.
It took more than just a few minutes for Horus to even break out of his little daze, head tilting, slowly and carefully taking the package. First it seemed like the man was terrified of it, maybe thinking it was maybe some holy water and as soon as he’d open it, he’d be done for but the scent— that made the fear turn into a bit of embarrassment. Surely if any of his underlings saw his reaction to just a simple box of cookies they’d have a laughing fit.
” I guess so, sorry for my rudeness though, I haven’t exactly celebrated Christmas in a long time. “Aka, this is the first time in a long time I’ve celebrated this.“And eh… Merry Christmas to you too, I presume.” The good news was, he didn’t start burning from saying such a phrase. Good. Crisis everted.
" No apologies n-needed!“ Emil was gladdened to see his gift taken. It was such a special time of year, to have someone so stuck on the physical aspects, to not feel the warmth of such things, of family, friends, people who they could call upon in time of need and not worry about being ‘owed’ anything or owing another person. ”Thank-you, mister! I hope y-you have a lot more pleasantries on this day, then. Christmas isn’t just a d-day after all.“
No, it was more than that, and those who knew Emil, knew this was the case to him. Always the case to him. It was, instead, a showing of internal emotion, an excuse to being there, to opening up your door and letting all the goodness wash away the bad for just that one day, even if it was only a momentary thing. Emil loved the day, loved the spirit, loved how people became, so filled with love …
”It’s a mindset, one we sh-should all keep during the year.“
Such sweetness, no care for the gifts, only the action to get another smile, another, even if nervous, acceptance. Something of happiness. ”There’s always t-time to be happy, to give gifts, j-just during this time of year, is it more accepted.“ His hands out lifted, offering for the other to take them…
”So th-thank you, for accepting my tidings, and remember it, yes?“
Not going to lie, this wasn’t what the lord of the under world was expecting. “Ah well, then it seems that ol’ saint nick should be replaced if he’s not doin’ his job right. Wonder if he spills tea though on his days off.” The man was practically mumbling to himself, normal really, as it helped him think.
Emil’s head tipped to the side curiously. Whatever this person was mumbling, they didn’t seem to understand Christmas all too well … A soft hum escaped him as he turned, glancing, looking through his pockets before finding – “Ah!”
“H-here you go, mister.”
Lifting his hand, Emil offered a small, round package. It was nothing more than a few baked cookies and a sandwich, but by the way the package looked, it was very well taken care of and thought highly of by the blonde.
“It’s d-days like this, even if he doesn’t sh-show up, we need to help him out, by g-giving things to each-other in his stead, y-yeah?”
There was no hesitation to give the bag over, not even as it would be taken. Instead, a smile, warm and simple, expecting nothing less or more from the devil he did not even know their name.
