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"Peh, demons. Could tell the smell of hell from here--did you know sulphur is a major component of both demonic physiology and farts?"

Ciel seemed visibly disgusted, as if there was something deep under his forced stoic look, something dark, so so describably dark and horrible.

"A cat who plays with the concept of rituals.." He fought back a sneeze, being allergic to cats. "You retched being. You retched, retched being."

This was not elaborated on, and would not be, As he forced the emotional tone back down his throat.

"So, do you want to be the pot or the kettle? As I seem to recall, you do have a demon tailing you about, which means you've played with rituals too." Kal'tsit raised a brow, although this sort of deal wasn't exactly her problem to begin with.

Perhaps a hardly acknowledging, side-eyed glance at who looks like a child in some sort of outdated rogue fashion is the best insult the Revenant could come up with. Taking another unassuming glance at her papers, his eyes almost pop right out of his skull for a split second there, before his expression returns to his eternal, resting witch face.

"I think your dad added three extra zeros to your docs, kiddo.", he scoffs, internally belittling himself for having believe that number for that fraction of a second. "How much of a medic you're supposed to be at 10? What, you patch bruised knees and boo-boos in PE class? And what's with the clothes? Ten grand must be what mommy must've wasted to get you on that overpriced, punk trash."

"You look scary with that mask." Kazehiki said, his voice raspy and sick.
Not quite an insult, but not quite a compliment either?

"Where'd you get your clothes? From the toilet.......store? I'm sorry. I've always wanted to use that line.."

Evadne snorts and jabs a thumb at the stranger on the TV. "What is this guy, a tin can? Get him out of his armor and I'll show 'im a real fight. He's got twinkle toes as thick as trucks, can you even believe a real guy is inside?"

It appears that middle age has hit you like a truck. For you own sake, you may want to change your lifestyle

"And it seems all you'll ever be is a umile schiavo (lowly slave). Perhaps ditch the slave attire for actual clothes, and you could be so much more than you already are."

The whole 'white wolf' thing with 'oh-so-many scars' and 'countless combat experience' has been done to death. I think I hear Geralt of Rivia calling... or maybe it's just the sound of your 'tragic loss of sanity' slipping away.

"Listen carefully, you low-rent edgelord fantasty piece of trash, you're the last one to accuse anyone or anything of being a copy, you Dollar Tree Dracula dumpster fire. Don't come for my friend again. Now shut your mouth. You're letting the flies out"

"Well Hello there, Family Dollar Spock! Done playing with the butter knives and acting like you are a swordsman? Maybe you can take the kitchen utensils and teach your creator to make a burger before someone gets salmonella."

"Well! I thought I smelled a dumpster, and here is my favorite guttersnipe that thinks she's some sort of mythical dragon or whatever. No wonder the guy's flies wanted out: it was to get to the trash. Inform your creator that it's extremely petulant and asinine to be pissed off at mine over something she has absolutely nothing to do with. Grow up. Thanks, lil sis"

"Sheesh, bud. Talk about someone needing to grow up......"

For a guy claiming to be an advisor, you’re getting awful personal, son. Does baby perhaps need a bottle to go along with that temper tantrum?

"Are ye dafty? Ye cannae saw the one below? Ye oot o' ye meind"

The old scientist turned to look over his shpulder with a half-raised eyebrow. "Ah, _typical-" he r3torted, his tone cold as ice. Straightening, he turned to regard Roadbuster with an expression that did npthing to belittle his distaste. "See, this is exactpy the problem I have with unpatented technologies. They are volatile, unreliable, and - according to this one's rather appallling jargon - inarticulate. In this partocular case, there's not even the silver lining of being arguably the worst unpatented technology can get either... no, just a mere bask in the muddy lake of mediocrity." And he waved his hand dismissively, a old habit from his teaching days.

[Get back in the DeLorian and just undo that whole observation, Doc Brown,] the mute signed.