???.

          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.”