@enwomb
It was disquieting.
Every time Dettlaff looked at the woman, he found himself growing angrier. This world wasn’t right. He wasn’t right. Nothing was right, and it was almost enough to set his inner rage out of control. The Avenger fought himself tooth and nail not to go on a rampage.
Of course, this reaction was only caused by the fact that she was his Master.
  “...Allow me to speak.” He’d refused to talk until then, making that statement rather ironic. Even so, the vampire had learned the intricacies of acting the gentleman. 700 years, maybe more, had forced him to learn that much.
  “I do not care for you.” He spoke plainly. Such was his wont. Dettlaff despised trickery and the cowardice humans so often fell back on. He much preferred honesty and directness. It allowed easy of communication. “As your Servant, however, that is of no importance. Answer me plain now; do you intend to fight against the others?”
