Dance With Deceit

Learning New Things About The Plot

Summary: Because that's literally all this chapter is. I'm not sorry.

Warnings: Some rather inappropriate talk which may cause one to have unpleasant thoughts. But what would you expect from the trash man? Also talks of murdering others. Again, what would you expect?

(I also apologize for the long wait, life has not been kind to me lately, but I am going to finish this fic gosh dang it) 

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"You know De-De, I'm starting to suspect the only time you ever come see me is when you need something."

"What would give you that idea?" Deceit inspected his gloves, leaning back casually in a rickety chair that creaked under him. The rest of the room was dark, save for a single light that illuminated the middle of a wooden table, rotten and covered in mold patches that Deceit took care to avoid touching.

Across the table, a pair of boots rested on top of the table, the figure reclined in his own chair, but shrouded in darkness.

"Gee, I don't know... Maybe it's because you always ask me to do your dirty work."

"Only because you seem to enjoy it so much," Deceit glanced up, "you haven't lost your touch, have you?"

A morning star slammed into the middle of the table, it was a miracle the old wood didn't shatter. The light swung back and forth, illuminating a pale face, wild eyes surrounded by dark circles, and a manic grin that screamed danger.

"You know I haven't~"

Remus ripped the morning star out of the table and rested it over his shoulder, still staring down at Deceit with unblinking eyes. "So, who do I have to murder?"

"Unfortunately, this Side cannot be murdered. Though it would make things so much easier for me if that were the case..."

"Ya gonna tell me who it is or do I have to guess and hope I get the wrong target?" Remus sat down on the table, setting his weapon on his lap.

"Wouldn't you want the correct target?" Deceit raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"No, because if I get the wrong target, that means I get to viciously attack more Sides." Remus leaned forward. "So who is it? You said this Side can't be killed. Is it Virgil? Oh please tell me it's Virgil, it'd be so much fun toying with him before I bashed his head in~"

"No, it isn't Virgil." Deceit gripped his forehead. He was already getting a headache...

"Then who is it? Goody Two Shoes Patton? He wouldn't even try fighting back, no fun there." Remus' eyes lit up. "Is it Roman? Oh please tell me it's Roman."

"I won't because it isn't him. Or Patton. It isn't any of the core Sides."

"Ah," Remus nodded his head slowly, "I see. You want me to go after one of them. I should've known. So, who got in the way of your plans this time?"

"No one of importance," he waved his hand dismissively, "simply a pawn in a game of chess between two adversaries."

"Ohhh... This is about your personal vendetta, ain't it Triple D?" Remus chuckled. "I should've known, you just can't let the past die, can you?"

"I don't know what you mean." Deceit turned away, staring off into the darkness that shrouded Remus' bedroom. His eyes briefly catching movement from the small creatures that inhabited the space, creations of the Duke he did not wish to encounter.

"I think you do." Remus moved closer towards the edge of the table. "And I know you do because I'm the one you told." He smirked. "The one you forgot when you did your little trick~"