"Jimmy, you can't bug a foreign official's hotel room. That is very, very, illegal and very, very, bad if you get caught." The bluenette looked at his spouse skeptically, despite knowing that his beau was joking. At least, he hoped he was.
"I guess… But how are we supposed to figure out what Munier's so twitchy about? Send a few goons to shadow her?"
"Actually, yes. That's exactly what HELLSING is doing."
"So stalking is fine? What a strange place to draw the line, mister murder..."
"You jest, but that's sort of the way it is..." With a sigh, Ciel leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap and crossing one leg over his knee. "Things are more difficult when dealing with foreign parties… At the moment, we have no choice but to wait on Intel to tell us what they find out. Until then, it's business as usual. I can't say that I'm particularly thrilled about the prospect of you going over there to look at their progress."
"Scared the French are gonna kick my ass?"
"We don't have the same freedom there as we do here. If something happens, then you can't guarantee that you can get out of it with brute force."
With a chuckle, Jim stood up from his seat on the sofa and walked around to his beau's desk before playfully rubbing the underside of Ciel's chin with his finger. "You know, I love it when you worry about me."
"You would do the same." the bluenette retorted, not shying away from the gesture in the slightest. "I've asked Integra to allow me to go with you, but she said she needed some time to consider it, as it's a bit of a risk to have both of us out of the country at the same time. Transitional periods like this tend to be very precarious, so I don't blame her, but quite frankly, I'm debating on just getting on the ferry anyway." Pausing, Ciel looked up at his beau. "You don't mind, do you?"
"No. I think it's a good idea." Jim replied, sitting on the edge of the other man's desk. "I don't really feel comfortable going with just a human assistant. Sure, they can shoot, but what good is that when the French government says 'no shooting people?'"
"Who is going with you?"
"Just Roger, so far. From the SR department? You might not know him."
"Is he the one that's… y'know..."
"That's…?" the menace trailed off, trying to think of what his beau was referring to. After a moment, he figured it out, prompting him to nod after a look of realization crossed his face. "Oh, yeah. Probably. Just be nice, okay? Don't let your Tory-ness show."
"I'm not a Tory anymore and haven't been for several decades." protested the Watchdog. "I just didn't know the right word."
"'Transgender?'"
"Is that what the word is, now?" the Watchdog asked, taking a moment to pause and turn his attention away from his computer monitor. He reached into a drawer in his desk and pulled out a notebook before proceeding to flip through its pages. After finding the one he was looking for, he picked up a pen and made a note. "I wanted to say 'transvestite,' but I knew that was definitely wrong. I couldn't think of the right one."
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that word's offensive, now."
"It is?" Ciel looked up at his beau for a moment with a confused look on his face. Then, he made another note. "I thought it just meant 'crossdresser...' Wait, don't tell me that's no good, either..."
"No, no, that one's fine, I think." the blonde replied as his beau read through his notes again. "Just don't call him that. That's something totally different."
"I'm aware. I'm not that out of touch. I swear, keeping track of this stuff is the hardest thing about immortality… You think you have it down and then younger people start saying things like 'yeet' and 'on fleek' like those are actual words that make sense. I really don't want to offend anyone or make a fool of myself in front of your coworkers. There's no need in that. Do tell me if I make a mistake."
"You're on your way to being a regular bleeding-heart liberal. Good show, darling!"
"Hm." Ciel grunted in response, turning his head back toward his desktop. Once more, his fingers danced on the keyboard as he carried on with his own, non-HELLSING-related work. In the middle of all of this, he still had a company to run, and he had already taken a lot of time off. Then again, as the owner, he really didn't have to do much. All he had to do was maintain control and make profit. As long as he could do that, he could take as much time off as he wanted.
"More interested in making money, huh?" inquired the menace.
"The mission hasn't officially started and I've done all of the prep work I can do for now. I just need to do a few things, first, and then I can play with you."
"What makes you think I want to play? I have work too, don't you know?"
"Does it involve planting your behind on my desk?"
"Wouldn't you like to know, billionaire-boy?" The menace let out a squeak as the bluenette wordlessly removed a hand from his keyboard and used it to lightly pinch the blonde's stomach.
"You know, the frequency with which you refer to my money makes me believe that you may actually like the fact that I have a lot of it." suggested the Earl.
"I mean, most people would, wouldn't they?"
"...Tory."
"I'll bludgeon you bloody, you bourgeois bastard."
"This bourgeois bastard is planning your trip to France, so be nice to me or I'll make you eat beef tartare."
With a scrunch of his face, the blonde shuddered. "I'd rather eat toasted lizard."
"Then you better be nice to me." the Watchdog playfully stated. "I've accumulated enough capital for us to live comfortably for a few more lifetimes, but I also have potential inflation and unforeseen expenses to worry about. We have Revy and then Luka's first homes to worry about, which won't even scratch the surface of that, and if we're going to add another child into the mix, we will also need to worry about them. While I don't necessarily intend to die and leave them an inheritance, I am a bit worried for the future."
"Worried that having a baby will cost you one of your billions?"
"No, I'd honestly prefer it if they went and made something of themselves on their own, but I do intend to support them throughout their life, which could get expensive, considering-"
"The immortality?" Jim concluded for his spouse, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes." Ciel nodded with a small sigh. "If I couldn't do that, I would consider myself a failure of a father. I've been finding myself worried about it after our talks at the cabin."
"Oh, darling..." The menace leaned down, grabbing the other man's chin with one hand and the back of his head with the other. He kissed the top of Ciel's head. "You'd be a great dad. It's cute that you're worried about it, but we haven't even agreed to start the whole… whatever-it-is-we're-gonna-do to get a baby, yet! You've got time."
"Precisely why I need to utilise it as much as possible."
"Isn't that a bit overkill?"
"I suppose that's just the sort of person I am. You know how I get when I have a goal in mind. I fully intend to create as nurturing of a home environment as I can when the time comes and there is nothing you or anyone else can do to stop me."
With a snort, Jim kissed the bluenette's head again. "You are absolutely ridiculous, but very cute, so it's fine, I guess. Maybe you should focus on one kid at a time for now, though. Have you found Revy a place?"
"A while ago. It's a property I own on some of the land I'd typically rent out." Ciel informed. "It's a pretty nice plot of land. The house needs some work, though. The last tenant trashed the place years ago, and after throwing him in jail for vandalism, I never got around to having it fixed up. I need to call a contractor and have them take a look at it."
"I'll leave it in your capable hands, then. I, on the other hand, have a trip to inspect some very suspicious French folk's place to plan."
"I'll be sure to arrange some frog legs for you."
"Joke's on you, I've eaten roasted frog before, cyclops. It'd probably be better fried. Fry almost anything, and it should be pretty good."
"Did you punch them like you did that fish?"
"No, but I could always find a good-sized rock."
The demons went back and forth, engaging in banter and occasionally touching on relevant work-related topics. Unfortunately, until they received further information or orders from Headquarters, there wasn't much that they could do about the situation. Things were different, since they were dealing with foreign parties, so they couldn't go and do whatever they pleased to get intel faster. Everything seemed calm for the time being, but the Phantomhvies knew better than to trust that. For now, however, they were completely helpless as they hoped for the very best.
Others, however, were not so lucky as to live in ignorance. Minister Munier had been in contact with an agent at ORSAP, both to receive information one Johnathan and to give away orders. The only things that Mister Chaput was able to confirm however, was that the false Phantomhive was indeed a demon and that he really did bear a strong resemblance to Ciel. The only difference was that Johnathan was not scary to be around simply because he wore a frown and an eyepatch, but because there was something about him that was intrinsically malicious. That was the only way to describe it. There was something in the way that he existed in the world that others found unsettling.
Perhaps it was the fact that his smile never seemed genuine. It was as though there was nothing behind his eyes. They stared through the person he was looking in the direction of rather than looking at them and there was no emotion in them whenever he went through the motions of emoting. He was simply appearing human, rather than being human. While there were obvious efforts to conceal his inhumanity and there were even times where he was convincing, there was just something "off" about him that no one could quite place. Then, when he worked, he occasionally did things that the others found "immoral" or "excessive" without batting an eye. Poor Hugo still didn't want to talk to him after he killed the orc's acquaintance in the catacombs. Hugo could clearly feel. His eyes were sad and scared, at times, as his large frame tried to shrink itself whenever Johnathan was nearby.
"Hugo?" called out their mutual associate, a woman in her mid to late twenties by the name of Annie Perrott. She knocked on the orc's door while Chaput stood by. "Are you doing alright in there?"
There was a moment of silence as the two waited for Hugo to reply. They looked at one another, prompting Damien to offer a shrug. Then, the doorhandle began to turn. Hugo stood in the doorframe and sniffled once before sighing. "I'm okay." he said. "I'm sorry, I'm being silly. I'll try harder to stop..."
"You're not being silly." Annie replied, placing her hands on her hips. "You've lost someone who you were friendly with. It takes time to get over it, especially with the way that Emil went about it… That was uncalled for."
"I mean, he was right about him possibly warning our actual targets..." Damien chimed in, only to get a nasty look from the woman.
"It was immoral." she said. "You can't handle every situation like that. Where's the diplomacy?"
"What's 'diplomacy'?" questioned Hugo.
"It means taking everyone into consideration and coming to an agreement as to do next."
"Oh! You're really smart!" The orc seemed genuinely pleased with that, as his spirits seemed to lift just a little.
"Thank you! If you ever need to talk about what's bothering you, you can talk to us, okay? It'll help you feel better."
"Okay..." Hugo seemed less pleased with that. He didn't like talking about sad things because he didn't like feeling sad. He wasn't even sure if "sad" was the right word, but it was the word that came to mind. It was frightening, just how easy the demon threw one of Hugo's friend's lives away. It happened so fast. In one moment, Artus was there, and in the next, he was gone. His body stayed behind, but Artus wasn't there anymore. "Emil says I'm being stupid, though… I am being stupid, I think… I don't seem to understand anything at all."
"Emil's a bastard, so don't listen to him when it comes to that stuff. Just because he doesn't understand how you feel, doesn't make you stupid." Miss Perrott stated.
"I'd like to believe you, but I don't really know. I don't even know what happened to Artus!"
"He died, Hugo." Damien replied. "He's not here anymore. You saw it."
"Yes, but I don't know what happened to him afterwards." Placing his hands together and gesturing to the spot he was standing, Hugo did his best to explain. "He was 'here,' and now he's not. He's dead, but where did he go?"
"Well… I think the cleanup crew took him away, Hugo." Annie's eyebrows tilted upwards with concern as she patiently tried to understand her compatriot.
"No, no, not his body. Where did he go? One minute, he was there, and then the next, Emil killed him and he wasn't anymore. I've seen a lot of bodies and a lot of things happen to them, but mostly, they just lay around. What happens to them when they die, though? Did Artus just… disappear? Is he not anywhere anymore? I don't like that idea."
This time, Annie and Damien did not have such a clear-cut answer. Damien looked to Annie, hoping that she would be able to figure out something. He wasn't very good at this sort of thing, and she seemed to have an alright trackrecord. The vampiress thought for a moment before simply saying: "No one really knows."
Damien and Hugo didn't seem very satisfied with that, with Damien looking over at her as if he was asking if she was nuts, and Hugo looking down sadly. Yet, she continued. "A lot of people think that they go to heaven if they were good and hell if they were bad people. Heaven is supposed to be a nice place where everyone is free from pain or suffering, and hell is the opposite. Of course, nobody has ever seen those places and come back, so no one really knows if they exist."
"Then why do they believe that?" Hugo questioned.
"Faith, I guess." Annie shrugged. "There's a church around the corner. You can go there and find out a lot about this stuff, if you're interested. I'm sure Damien will be fine with making you a glamour so you can go, if you think it'll help."
"Maybe… I don't know… I'll think about it… I just… I need some time to think. I don't really like Catholics, either..."
"That's fine! You don't have to do anything that you don't want to! I don't really go to church, myself, but… yeah." The woman flailed a bit at that, remembering that the Catholic church had not been kind to them. She made the mistake of thinking like a human instead of a supernatural, but that was in her nature as a vampire, to some extent. Immediately, she felt a pang of guilt at the possibility of having brought up more painful memories. "I'm sorry..." she said. "Uh… anyway, if you need us, you can talk to us, alright? You don't have to handle all of this by yourself."
The orc smiled a bit at that. His expression was soft—far softer than most people would wrongly assume an orc could make, with his lips working to move aroud his tusks. "Thank you." he said. "Sometimes, the surface world is scary, but you're not scary. I like this about this world." With that, he began to shut his door. "Bye-bye."
With that, Annie and Damien were left on their own, hoping that they did the right thing. The quiet was ruined, however, when Damien decided to open his mouth. "Nice work, 'maman.'"
"Don't call me that. It's gross." Miss Perrott replied before they both started to make their way back down the hall. "Do you think I got too preachy?" she asked. "I mean, I didn't mean to bring up religion, or anything, but I couldn't think of any other answer to that."
"Not big on the church either, huh?" the sorcerer asked.
"Hardly. I know there's demons, but I don't know if there's a God. Even if there was one, it's just 'what the fuck, man? Not cool.'"
"You handled that really well, though. I couldn't think of anything to say at all. You're really good at stuff like this."
"Well, I wanted to be an elementary school teacher, so that could be part of it."
"Really? You would've been good at it."
"Mm-hm." The conversation clearly died there, as the Damien observed that she really didn't want to talk about it. Being a recent college graduate himself, he felt that he could understand if things didn't pan out like she hoped. The woman rummaged around in the many pockets affixed to her person until she pulled out a package of cigarettes. "I need a smoke."
"You're not supposed to smoke in the building."
"Yeah, yeah… I'm headed outside." the woman said. "I just need to make sure I've got a lighter." Then, despite her hasty rummaging, all at once, she stopped and let out a sigh. "I need to give these things up..."
"Does smoking affect vampires?"
"Don't know. Don't really care. I'm just tired of it, is all. I don't need them. I know I don't need them. I've quit harder stuff, but it's like, 'this one's not so bad, so it's okay if it stays.' I just want to be done with it." Silence followed, as Damien didn't really know what to say to that. "Sorry for getting so heavy on you all of a sudden. I'm just… mad."
"Mad at what? Emil?"
"Emil, fucking Rigaud, the cigarettes, the vampirism, the whole… situation I'm in right now. My problems have lessened a little bit, but it still feels like some things are the same. I'm grateful that I'm here. I really am. I like that I can do at least somewhat vaguely honest work and can feed myself and my family. There's a lot of freedom in that. There's so much compared to before. I can even go outside in the sun because I know you! It's just that things shouldn't have ever have turned out the way they have in the first place."
That was hard to respond to, but Damien felt like he ought to. "I'm sorry if I brought something up..."
"No, no, you haven't. Not really, anyway. Everything's still a bit fresh, y'know?"
"Yeah… I think I might, but also… not really." Chaput replied. "I'm here a little bit by choice, so I find it hard to say I really understand. For me, I'm just glad that I don't have to be lied to anymore about what I am. I'm a sorcerer and I'm allowed to be a sorcerer. It's something I can be proud of and not something I have to hide in order to keep my family safe. Honestly, I'm kind of hoping we can get some more sorcerers to sign up so that I can learn more magic."
"Your parents won't teach you?"
"They only taught me how not to blow things up on accident. Right now, they're still afraid that they'll be killed, so we're not talking at the moment." Damien said, turning to the woman as they walked side by side. "They even took me out of school when I was little because they were scared someone would find out. The first few weeks of college were hell because of that."
"Sheltering parents are the worst. Mine threatened to take me out of school because I talked to a girl who had a nose piercing. She was nice, but I wasn't allowed to be friends with her."
"Right?! I had my computer taken away because I talked to people online about magic! They were humans who were interested in the fake kind, but still!"
"I take it they're not big fans of Harry Potter, either?"
"Yep. I still don't know anything about it."
"If you want to watch it, I could let you borrow it. I have the full set at my place." Annie replied, before looking up as a thought clicked into place in her brain. "Hugo's probably never seen it, either… I could invite him over and we could make a thing of seeing it."
"Really?" the man questioned, raising his brows. "That wouldn't be a problem, would it? What about Anais?"
"If it's during the day, she'll be at school, so it'll be alright. Just te-" Annie cut herself off as she looked directly in front of her and stopped dead in her tracks. She furrowed her thick eyebrows as she gave Rigaud an icy glare.
The older vampire didn't say anything to her, but just his smile was enough to make her agitated. In a way, it was similar to Johnathan's—hitting most of the points to make it a "kind" expression, but with something about it that she couldn't quite place that made it seem fake. Because it seemed fake, she knew she couldn't trust it, and because she could not trust it, she felt lied to, and because she felt lied to, she felt pissed off. Still, she needed to finish her thought.
"Text me when you're free, later." she said, facing Damien again. "See you later."
Her eyes met with Rigaud's briefly in a rather nasty glare. The fact that the other vampire only smiled sweetly back at her made her even more irritated. Thus, she left in a huff, leaving Damien alone to face Doctor Rigaud on his own.
"Hello, Doctor." the warlock greeted, capturing Pierre's attention away from the woman.
"Ah, hello, Damien! How are you this evening?" the professor questioned. "I heard that Hugo is not feeling too terribly well, still. I take it that you and Miss Perrott had a word with him, already?"
"Yeah, he seems to be getting better. He just needs some time to process everything, I think."
"Well, overcoming a death of friend is always rough. I was wondering if he needed to talk to anyone about it. Like the meaning of life, death is another one of my areas of expertise when it comes to philosophical thought. I thought it might bring him comfort."
"He says he wants to be left alone for now." Damien replied, hoping that it would deter the older man from persisting. He knew that Hugo didn't have the patience to hear Rigaud's ramblings on an ordinary day, so there was no reason to test his patience or make him feel worse by making him listen to the professor's pointless pontificating. "I think that might be too much for him at the moment."
"That's true, I suppose. He's a bit simple, so he might not understand, anyway." the doctor supposed, much to the warlock's chargin. While Hugo wasn't the most "educated" of individuals, nor was he particularly what Damien would consider a "friend," that was still uncalled for.
"Is there anything else you need?"
"No, I just wanted to talk, I suppose. There isn't a lot of opportunity for intelligent conversation around here, it seems. Annie hates me for some reason, Hugo is… Hugo, and the rest of the mercenaries are too focused on earning their next paycheck to think about much else. Then again… aren't we all a slave to life's necessities?"
"You're trying to bait me into talking about philosophy, aren't you? It's not going to work. I'm not a slave to anything. I chose to be here so I can learn magic."
"Ah, but you are a slave to the pursuit of knowledge!" Doctor Rigaud declared, prompting the younger man to roll his eyes at him. "You started out not knowing anything about who and what you are. You found your false humanity to be a burden, so you cast it aside, but what are you, now? You aren't human, yes, but you aren't quite a sorcerer, are you?"
"I am a sorcerer. Don't be stupid. I was born a sorcerer, so I'm a sorcerer. It's that simple."
"Ah, but is that the only thing? You lack the culture and the know-how, so now, you've signed away your name to the government of all things in order to seek those pieces of yourself that you clearly lack. You're obsessed and that is a weakness." As Pierre spoke, Damien glared at him. The feeling of having the upperhand made the vampire's chest swell and a smirk to appear on his face. "But then again, none of us are any better than the other. Annie was a slave to drugs, but she has since traded it for money. Hugo was a prisoner of the monster hunters, having to live hidden in the catacombs, but now he has signed himself away to the very same sort that did that to him. Even I am a constant slave to my own pleasures."
"It's rude to gossip about your coworkers and you're annoying me, so I'm going to go, now." the warlock huffed, pushing past the vampire as he made his way down the hall, but Rigaud pulled him back again as he thought aloud, trapping Damien once again in his half-baked, intellectual pursuits.
"Maybe so, but there also may be fault in my theory, though..." the Doctor continued. "I haven't been able to put our valiant leader, Mister Stark, into any kind of category, yet. His goal, as of currently, has proven elusive, or perhaps even nonexistent. He doesn't seem interested in money and he runs things like an ordinary bureaucracy—dry and stale, so 'power' doesn't seem quite right. Don't you find that interesting?"
"Not really." Damien replied, remembering his mission. His stomach did a flip at the mentioning of the demon, prompting him to wonder if perhaps Rigaud had found out what Miss Munier asked of him. If so, he realised that he may in fact be the worst spy ever. Still, it was a good opportunity for him to hear about other people's observations. "I don't really care, as long as the job gets done. I'm just glad that I don't have to do it."
"Ah, but what about the other night in the catacombs?" Rigaud questioned, putting his arm around the younger man as they walked, causing Damien to shrink a little bit. "You saw how he killed that ogre, didn't you? He killed him without any sort of remorse, even though he was already walking away! I wonder if perhaps his mask slipped a bit in that moment. What other secrets do you think he holds, hm?"
"I don't know. I really don't know. Get off me." The warlock tried to shove the other man away, finding it difficult, with the vampire's superior strength stopping him. Rigaud chose to release him after a moment, however, chuckling as he did so. "Why don't you focus on your work instead of spouting pseudo-intellectual, masturbatory, bullshit?"
"I have no mission, so I'm on standby for now. I need a way to pass the time. There's no one to have a drink with and the women here are all dobermans, so I'm finding myself incredibly bored at the moment. If you can't meet me in intellectual conversation, so be it, I suppose. Not everyone is interested in having interest in philosophy."
"That's because it's good for nothing but thinking for the sake of thinking. Who cares about thoughts you can't even use? Worse, if you keep pondering about your colleagues to other colleagues, you'll never find any friends at all. Nobody likes a gossip, Doctor."
"Clearly. What did Annie tell you about me? Does it not count when your friends do it?"
"We aren't friends, and she avoids the subject."
"I've never met her before coming here. I don't know what I did to upset her."
"Who knows?" Damien fibbed, wanting to end the conversation as quickly and painlessly as possible. "Best not to dwell on it, I suppose. Just try to be nice. I'll see you around."
The warlock practically ran away from the vampire in that moment, no longer wanting to hear about his "wise" ramblings or to jeopardise his mission. If he asked too many questions, others might get suspicious, which would be particularly troubling if Rigaud caught on. The vampire was nosy and couldn't keep his mouth shut to save his life if he thought he could impress someone with his intelligence.
Damien made his escape, turning down the winding halls, his shoes tapping violently against the linoleum tile. He passed benches and potted plants that lined the hallways, honeybee motifs and soldiers lazing about, too. Then, he rounded a corner perhaps too quickly and too little thought, as he narrowly avoided careening into another person. The only reason he did so was because they had the reflexes and strength to place a hand on his chest and push him backward. The poor warlock landed right on his bottom, startled by the sudden violence.
He supposed that he shouldn't find the sight of the perpetrator all that surprising, but he still did. It was a girl who looked to be about sixteen or seventeen, with a British flag patch sewn onto her uniform. Honeycutt members typically did wear flags to indicate that they didn't speak French, but she wasn't American, like the typical soldier, nor did she appear to be an actual member of the Honeycutt Mercenary Company, as she didn't have the honeybee sewn onto her shirt, either. Her age was unusual, but not unheard of. Damien couldn't tell if she was human or not, but if she wasn't, she could be hundreds of years old, for all he knew. With the unusual markings or lack thereof on her uniform, the warlock concluded that she was one of Johnathan's associates. They weren't of Honeycutt, yet they were brought to ORSAP by him. They were "unusual," to say the least, but perhaps that was simply because they kept to themselves.
Her eyes were very tired with dark bags underneath them, but her brown hair was still pulled back into a tight, tidy, bun. There seemed to be some distance between her gaze and the situation at hand, yet she snapped out of it, seeming to regain conscious as she saw Damien on the floor. Stepping out of her defensive stance, she leaned down a bit, holding out a hand to the man.
"Sorry." she said in English. "Uh… 'pardon?'" Her attempt at an accent was bad, but she had the spirit.
"It's okay." Then again, Damien's English accent was questionable as well. Taking her hand, he almost fell over as the woman lifted him up without any need for help on his part. "I wasn't paying attention."
"Neither was I. I didn't mean to push you over, but you scared me, I guess." Letting go of the man's hand, she introduced herself. "I'm Brittany, by the way."
A/N: I'm really sorry about how late this is! Last week, I had 536726452 assignments all given to me at the same time and I had to prioritise that. It really sucked because this chapter was almost done!
I could've made it longer, but it's three in the morning and death is upon me.
I totally forgot Brittany's last name... Did she even have one? I have no idea...
I totally had stuff to talk about at the end, here... it's been so long that I forgot?
I think mostly that I wanted to talk about Johnathan and his weird signs of inhumanity. I've hammered it in pretty heavily, but watch out for that, because as you know, I'm very interested in things that make people "human." Compare him to Ciel, in particular.
Ah... I wish I could phrase that more intelligently... My brain isn't working quite right, I'm so tired.
Night night
Until the next chapter, my duckies~!
