Demons (Damirae)

Chapter Sixty-Eight

"Did you extract any useful information from the man, Ms Roth?", Alfred greeted as the demoness entered the Batcave (having stepped out of one of its side-rooms).

Pouring a cup of tea- balanced masterfully on a sliver tray- the butler kept his eyebrow raised, inviting the girl to answer. And answer she did. Alfred had heard of her uncanny success in interrogation rooms, this time appeared no different: the subject had wielded within no more than a few moments, spilling 'all the secrets of the Council's dealings than could have been hoped for' to put it in her terms. Satisfied that the man (a 'face-shifter' if Alfred heard her correctly) would be securely stowed away in the side-room, Raven sat on the stairs that the butler stood besides, accepting the cup and saucer with a gracious smile and courteous 'thank you'.

This was a peculiar young lady to say in the least.

Alfred had heard a great many rambling rants from Mr Wayne in recent days about the Joker evading capture, Master Jason still unfound, Master Damian's perplexing behaviour, and the confusion surrounding this here demoness. Being truly honest to himself, the butler also found himself curious about the young girl. For one so young, she held about her an air of wisdom, and on more than a few occasions, he'd witnessed her calm down riled residents of the manor (predominantly Master Damian) end conflicts and give validated opinions on consequential matters. Moreover, the manner in which she conducted herself was one of regality and composure, not that typically worn by sixteen year old girls.

That didn't even touch on her heritage or abilities; Alfred ought not to dwell in that, her secrets were hers to keep and there was no reason for him to pry.

Though there was something he was interested in knowing.

"Ms Roth- begging your pardon- Raven", he corrected, having just been told once more that 'please sir, call me Raven. I mean no disrespect to your manners, but the only other instances where I was called Ms Roth was alongside 'your majesty' and the likes. That was back in Hell, Trigon's realm. And I'd much rather forget that' to which Alfred could only thank her honesty and promise to do just that, "I wonder if I might inquire as to how you find Master Damian."

A crease appeared between her eyebrows (though it was quick to disappear, like she didn't wish to tell her emotions so bluntly) as she echoed, "How I find Damian....?"

"Indeed. What do you think of him?", Alfred set down the tea tray by the Batcomputer, turning his attention to the girl sitting on the stairs. "As I understand it, you have many abilities, one of which is empathy. As such, your understanding an perception of people must be more insightful."

Raven tilted her head, "Well, I suppose so. But perceiving people differently is different from perceiving Damian differently."

Alfred chuckled, "Quite so, quite so."

The demoness took a sip of tea, the warmth trickling down her chest as she released a soft sigh of thoughtfulness, "Damian is certainly anomaly. Then again, no one raised under his circumstances would not be.", with barely a chink she set the cup and saucer besides her. "But he isn't a bad person- he could be, but he isn't. A little rough around the edges but not bad. His trust issues are understandable, as are his issues in anger management (though he has been improving a lot, I'd say). Ultimately, Damian is....", the crease returned, "...I don't know if there's a word for what he is but....his soul is one of the most damaged and bloodstained yet still shockingly kind and gentle at its core.", she looked up at the elderly gentleman. "I have a lot of respect for him and would hope the feeling's mutual."

Alfred considered her response, withholding the urge to lift a sly brow at the wandering tone of her voice.

"Why do you ask?"