[ Ironically, this past week and a half has been no less chaotic for the proprietor, given there had been the panic, the large unrest through Ryad shortly after the... incident. Silco had taken to calling it the Incident, because describing it otherwise forced him to relive the memories of all of it. Of killing Quetzalcoatl (good), of having his soul nearly ripped out of his mouth (bad), of getting saved by the being in charge of Zenith (good, but Silco knew something the rest did not through it) and of course, the aftermath. A Whole Other Thing.
Which was resolved by this point, the last of Silco's flesh mostly knit back together after his discord had ripped so much of it apart. He'd sloughed off enough to avoid losing himself completely, but only just. Draumahol had settled back into normalcy, and Sebastian's assessment was correct, he hadn't even noticed.
Which just makes the evening that Sebastian walks into his office like nothing had changed all the more frightening.
Especially given he'd had a stack of newspapers on his desk, the Springstar periodical in his hands, scouring for news of any new actions by the powers-that-be. Which meant that Sebastian's polite knock, entrance, and words all had a wonderful effect for the Demon. Likely one he would predict, too. Fear.
Had he come back for revenge? Was he going to try again? He wondered if Sebastian would be so relentless as to keep trying, and trying, and trying until he was fully destroyed and consumed. His fingers did not shake, but his hands (mismatched like his eyes, one grayed with stalled decay) dropped the paper after a long, long moment of consideration.
He managed to keep his expression politely neutral. ]
Is it? [ Did he.
Did he work today? ]
I had assumed top dollar services were... not going to continue.
[ Unlike most of his assumptions about Sebastian, this one was pretty reasonable, he thought. More the fool him. ]
no subject
Which was resolved by this point, the last of Silco's flesh mostly knit back together after his discord had ripped so much of it apart. He'd sloughed off enough to avoid losing himself completely, but only just. Draumahol had settled back into normalcy, and Sebastian's assessment was correct, he hadn't even noticed.
Which just makes the evening that Sebastian walks into his office like nothing had changed all the more frightening.
Especially given he'd had a stack of newspapers on his desk, the Springstar periodical in his hands, scouring for news of any new actions by the powers-that-be. Which meant that Sebastian's polite knock, entrance, and words all had a wonderful effect for the Demon. Likely one he would predict, too. Fear.
Had he come back for revenge? Was he going to try again? He wondered if Sebastian would be so relentless as to keep trying, and trying, and trying until he was fully destroyed and consumed. His fingers did not shake, but his hands (mismatched like his eyes, one grayed with stalled decay) dropped the paper after a long, long moment of consideration.
He managed to keep his expression politely neutral. ]
Is it? [ Did he.
Did he work today? ]
I had assumed top dollar services were... not going to continue.
[ Unlike most of his assumptions about Sebastian, this one was pretty reasonable, he thought. More the fool him. ]