Lancier wonders why it's so quiet, not that it bothers him. In fact Lancier's pretty flattered, after all the best actors preform when everyone else is utterly silent. Though his demonic senses pick up the sound of a mouse in the underground- or basement as the humans call it- Lancier makes a mental note to hunt down and torture the mouse. 'how dare it make sound when I am doing my finest performance! It must suffer!' he thinks to himself sullenly, his face however is still composed in an expression of innocent sadness.<br/><br/>Lancier notices the gradual change in the Warden's expression and makes a note of it, though it's a look that he recognises. It's a look his twin would often have when he gazed at his own son, and it's a look his father often had when some poor unfortunate was brought before him to be judged. Nothing good ever came of those looks, and Lancier's pretty sure that nothing good will come from this look ether. But Lancier is not scared, not at all. As long as he remembers that he is a demon-the supirior race- and she is just a human, he will be perfectly fine. As long as he never loses sight of what he is, he will be a God among mortals.<br/><br/>Lancier puts on his most shyest smile when the warden speaks and welcomes him, Lancier walks inside when she steps aside to let him in. “t-thank you very much..” he says softly as he hands the paper over, if he were human he'd be handing his life away.. though this is lost on him.<br/><br/><br/>Lancier nods his head. “Ms. Grishaw.” he echoes, committing into to his near infinite memory. Being a demon has it's blesses and curses, one that's argubly both is a demon's memory. Like a sponge they retain everything and everything, even their births. Lancier's still scarred by that memory, some things are simply not meant to be remembered or even talked about. This women would have made a pretty good demon, he can sense that. 'some people are cruely denied their birthrights.' he thinks to himself. Lancier listens to the warden carefully and smiles to himself at her words. “t-thank you.. I will most defiantly take your words to heart, ms. Grishaw.” he says with a small nod, his face a mask of serenity and innocence. Inside however, Lancier's laughing like hell. Lancier suppresses a smug grin and wave at Isra. He must keep his cool and his disguise, though his smugness quickly evaporates when he realises that his new minion took his words as a compliment. 'next time I'll say how pretty she looks..' he thinks seething.<br/><br/>Lancier gives Isra a grin when she looks at him coldly. “hi!” he beams boyishly, tilting his head slightly to the left and causing his hair to fall over his eyes. Lancier thinks that humans are endeared by this act, and he's always wanted to try it. He stops himself from snorting a laugh at her flat reply and puts on a look of nervousness at her reaction. “I hope I-I haven'r angered you i-in some way..” he says quietly as he scuffs his feet a little, every movement as steryotipcal as it may be is perfectly timed and judged. Lancier would never admit it, but he likes plaything the role of a human, he's having a lot of fun. He tilts his head as Isra's bopped on the head. 'hmm.. humans do share some things with demons..' he thinks to himself, watching the Warden walking away and hearing the click of locking doors.<br/><br/>Lancier laughs quietly as she shoves his case back to him. “so, my new home..” he looks around. “it  does remind me of my own home in so many ways..” he notices the other children and smiles a little at them, he walks by Isra's side and watches her for a few moments. “it's good to see you again, cutie pie!” he adds with a slightly more demonic smile.