Lancier smirks as he continues to admire himself in the mirror, priming himself like a peacock. He does a small spin and grins softly with a nod. “I look great, I look human!” He declares as he adjusts his hair lightly and purses his lips for a few moment. “I knew I'd still look HOT!” he laughs and folds his arms. “I just need to memorise this combination of genetics and attire for future use, but more importantly..” he clicks his fingers and reverts himself back to his normal and only slightly different form. “I need to remember who I am.” he says softly. “it would be foolish, utterly foolish of me to forget that I am a demon. Not when I'm so close to earning redemption, not when I'm so close to getting the respect I deserve!”<br/><br/>He walks over to his large plush chair and sits down, clasping his hands in thought. “tomorrow can't come quick enough.” he says softly as he gazes out the window that overlooks the world outside, the world he is stuck in. “how can I ever relate to anyone now? How can anyone ever hope to understand me, when I cannot even understand myself?” he asks himself softly, tilting his head as he can hear the sounds of human life in the distance “humans are not that different from demons, not really. They are just physically weaker and have a much lesser life span. I guess the old saying that humans are gone in a Demon's sigh is true.” he folds his arms slowly and narrows his eyes. “my Brothers would have loved it here, they would have killed so many humans as soon as they entered this realm..” his fingers clench into fists as he hisses the words. “why am I so different?! Why did I have to be the black sheep of the family?!”<br/><br/>He slowly stands up and stalks into his bathroom, his good mood has totally faded away. Like a caged tiger he stalks across the broken tiles of the bathroom floor, his shoes making a sharp and aggressive click with every step he takes. He pauses before the mirror that hangs above the bathroom sink. The mirror is covered with a red sheet, it is the only thing he had from home.. well, no..that wasn't quite correct, he also had The Book. He shivers subconsciously as he thinks about it, he always gets that reaction. It's as though a thousand tiny demonic spiders have started crawling up and down his back, dancing like fingers upon his spine. He pushes the thought out of his mind quickly, The Mirror is not like that. The Mirror is benevolent- as far as demonic things go- and shows him the things he wants and needs to see at no cost, unlike The book. He removes the sheet and starts to chant softly and quickly in his own language, as beads of sweat start to break out on his body an image appears of his new slave. Lancier smiles and stops chanting, content to watch.<br/><br/>He tilts his head as she moves through the graveyards and acts kindly to the dead, he watches more intently when she finds the defiled and robbed grave. He has never saw the appeal of burying the dead or mourning for them, Demons always eat the bodies of their dead family and grind the bones into powder and drink the powder with their own blood that was saved in special bottles for such an occasion. It may be seen as grotesque and barbaric by Angels and humans, but it's a point of pride and honour for a demon to eat his own. When that happens all those who partook in the feast acquire memories of the one that has passed away, and it also frees the shackles from the soul of the demon and their soul can go to evil heaven. At least that's what happens to the 'good' demons. The 'bad demons however are tossed in an unmarked grave and buried. Though Lancier understands that humans feel differently about such things, he still finds it utterly gross.<br/><br/>~<br/><br/><br/>He waves his hand and the image fades, he narrows his eyes and walks out. “humans are so strange..” he mutters and heads into his bedroom, he sits on his bed and sighs softly before flopping down. “I hope I don't dream..” he mutters as he shuts his eyes... and falls into slumber..