It's quiet, now, and the sky is a plain, smooth dome of blue. Any moment now, he's going to be without his trousers. That would rather ruin the mood.

"And you believe, if he comes back, you'll--"

Charles sighs, almost annoyed at himself.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to treat you with great suspicion without a straight forward yes or no, and the answer is probably. I suppose I'm just trying to understand what I'm agreeing to help with. My instinct is to suggest that you don't need something like that to guide you, but that's not very good advice if it's at the cost of repressing a sentient entity. Or denying something that's a part of you. At the same time, if you hurt people--"

The 'again' is pronounced silently.

"--then I'll be the one who agreed to helping a man become repossessed by a demon, world-specific understandings or no."