Oblivious, is an apt word for Lancier. He continues to ring the door bell, not knowing what kind of effect that's having on the denizens within the building. He looks around the street thoughtfully, not hearing a sound. 'wow.. it's just like home!' he thinks to himself happily. Indeed it's like everything's stopped to hold it's breath as Lancier's slender finger keeps pressing the old doorbell. He tilts his head thoughtfully and wonders if he's doing it right. Doorbells don't exist in the demon world and demons seldom knock, often preferring to barge into homes without waiting for a reply. Naturally there have being some very embarrassing and awkward moments because of that, but 99% of demons  don't care..<br/><br/>As Lancier waited for the door to be opened, he thought of his twin. Not the man he is, but rather the boy he once was. 'little Glady' was what many of the servants referred to him as, his twin was a light in the lives of many. Happy, cheerful and bubbly. Gladarniel was not the ideal demon child, but he'd always be Lancier's hero. The two shared a loving bond like many siblings, but it was amplified by the fact they were twins. Though they didn't-and still don't- look alike. Gladarniel was a very handsome child, strong and sturdy with the most piecing eyes a demon could have. Gladarniel was the epitome of health and youth, Lancier was the epitome of sickness. He was always much frailer then his older-though only by seconds- twin and found it so hard to keep up. But Gladarniel was always there for him. Whenever Lancier fell, Gladarniel would help him up. Whenever Lancier cried, his twin would wipe away his tears. His twin would stand up to their father, his twin wasn't scared of anything. Yet his twin was also that confident that he was to trusting as well, and everything changed.. once Gladarniel was abducted.<br/><br/>..and it was all Lancier's fault. Lancier was ill, very ill.. and it's not the demon way to treat things with medication, it's a fight or die moment. They were both six years old, they were both so blind. Gladarniel had smiled that smile of his- that carefree radiant smile- and clasped Lancier's hand. 'don't worry, Lanci.. I'll get you the fabled Heartflower, that'll heal you up!' Lancier naturally tried  to talk his twin out of it, but Gladarniel wouldn't listen. He set off early the next day, saying. 'don't worry Lanci, we're twins and I'm always gonna protect you!'.. that was the last time the brother's would speak for a very long time, and that's.. when the rot set in.<br/><br/>when his brother returned, Lancier didn't recognise him mentally or physically. Now they were both men, but it seemed that time had only ravaged one of them. His brother was now 6'6 in hight, slender yet well muscled with handsome and dark features. His long dark gray hair was tied back into a loose pony tale. He never smiled, not once. And the once bright blue eyes had dulled into a steely grey. As Lancier rushed up to hug his twin, Gladarniel swatted him to the side like a fly. As Lancier fell to the ground he realised that the physical change in his twin meant nothing, it was the mental change that was hard.. and still is.<br/><br/>Gladarniel became the ideal demon male, strong.. forceful.. sadistic.. he had many 'admirers' that were both male and female, he took a beautiful fallen Angel for a while and sired many children. Their father became proud of Gladarniel, he became what he was always meant to be. He served as the contrast to Lancier, but now if a different way. Their father would often say. 'look at your brother, Lancier.. now that is a demon! But what have you done, my son? Hmm? What have you done? Nothing.' Gladarniel became everything Lancier wasn't, and he also became what Lancier never wanted or envisioned. His most twisted opponent, his greatest tormentor, his most dreaded fear, his most feared rival.. anything but a brother, and that..is what hurt most.<br/><br/>Lancier snaps out of his thoughts as he hears the door unlock, he puts on his best smile when the women opens the door. “umm..hi!” he says shyly- or rather making sure his human alter ego was shy. “I'm an orphan, a-and I have no other living family members so I was told to come here..” he says softly as he holds his suitcase tightly. “I-I also have the paper work with me if you need to see them, ma'am.” he adds politely, guessing that she must be the one who runs this place. She has the air of someone used to being obeyed, much like his brother. “..ah, how rude of me..” he blushes a little. “I'm Lance, just Lance.. I don't think I have any need for my family's second name any more..” he adds sadly.<br/><br/>He catches a glimpse of Isra and inwardly smirks, knowing that she knows that it's him. How could she not? He made sure she would, after all.. but he might as well have a little spiteful fun, to keep in touch with his demon side. “u-umm.. who was that boy just now? I hope I-I wasn't interrupting anything..” he says softly, hoping that Isra heard that insult to her gender..but not realising that she might not take it that way.