Fourteen. [It's how the feed starts, with the simple statement of the number, the view being of Ciel with a cup of tea and a scone that hasn't been touched yet.] While it may not seem old at all to some, fourteen is incredibly old to me personally. To think I've been in this city long enough to now see two birthdays pass is, if anything, almost
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[ giving someone room to angst? what's that? ]
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A day of peace? I would hope so. Peace and quiet is a precious commodity these days, I find.
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Ah, you speak French! I was not aware. They are indeed, especially in this place. Monsters every night and whatnot. But, still, I wish for your birthday, you will receive both. They are much needed, yes?
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[Whoa, someone around Serrure's age. This one, though, seemed older than his years, perhaps in the phrasing of his words or the cadence with which he spoke. Or the way he held his teacup]
How do you pay back time?
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I don't know. I suppose it'd depend on where the time is borrowed from. [If it's a demon, the price is your soul, after all.]
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[Those vague dreams, he doesn't borrow, never borrows. He deals, he twists, he binds, he breaks and in waking hours those dreams, those memories scatter and are banished to the darkest parts of Serrure's mind. Maybe a demon price is no different in the end.]
Demons don't always win at the end of those. At least in legends, and there has to be some bite of truth to that.
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Cheers, for when you're old enough.
I can only hope I won't pass two years here. So, I do understand.
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[A reaper understanding? Yeah right. But he might as well be polite.]
Regardless of whether you think I'm too young, I'm certainly partaking in a glass of wine tonight.
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