Observations
Slash
K it was very quiet when he walked up with X, and it puzzled me. It’s been that way for several days and I haven’t been able to reconcile why he’s withdrawn. The atmosphere doesn’t feel adversarial, though I will admit the animalistic auras of my brothers is very high. We’re all on pins and needles waiting for the newest member to tap us for ‘inspection,’ so the air is tighter as we keep hold of our inner beasts.
That is, except for Oriel and Salem.
Those lucky assholes are perfectly normal and perhaps that’s irking me a bit. I know it’s got Jasper wrapped in knots, not that he’d admit it. He’s been fairly true to his word that he won’t be purposefully mean, but he’s also quite sharp when Kit isn’t around. The little demon would wince to hear his random tantrums about things like that locked door. It’s irritating, but I’m far less concerned about his temper when it’s only aimed at us. The caliphate is used to outbursts and odd half-apologies from the Prince.
“KK, they’ve got a good spread today. Come up and pick it out,” Oriel says. The dark-haired guy nods at my crow brother, taking his arm as they walk away from the large table to the buffet.
My eyes narrow as I track their progress carefully. That is my job and I was pleased with completing it; I do not appreciate the bird taking away that honor. Grunting, I shift in my seat as I wait for them to return. I’ll get my own meal once Kit is settled safely. Perhaps if I see a treat, I will bring that. It might erase the tiny furrow that has been living between his brows since the first revelation of animal sides.
“Something wrong, Slash?” Jasper smirks as he arches a brow at me and I grit my teeth. I will not rise to his bait because he is hoping to hook me into his bullshit.
Shrugging, I lean back in my chair as if everything is perfect. “Not at all, Prince. My morning has been most productive. I can’t help but wonder when they will give us more information and rules for the Games, though. This feels very slow moving, and that is not how my kind prefers to operate.”
Jasper nods, looking thoughtful for a moment. “I find that odd as well. I don’t know if it is a sign of something worse than expected or better. They have given me various required assignments for classes I teach, and occasional irksome demands, but we’re still sitting on the edge of our seats in regards to the full spectrum of events and training.”
“I’m waiting to see what they’ll make us wear,” Xerxes says as they wave a fried veggie slice. “You know it won’t be the uniforms and I’ll have to make a huge stink about what I can and cannot adorn myself with.”
I snort. “It must be nice to worry only about your couture.”
They give me a dark look as Kit and Oriel return with their trays. “Don’t be a sour puss, Slash. My identity is very important to me. You know I had to tangle with Old Raggedy Cape to make concessions for the day-to-day uniform.”
“Lucian fought with you about the uniform?” I’m surprised to hear the little demon speak up, but his face is screwed up in irritation. “That jackass can’t do anything without punishing someone.”
X gives him a brilliant smile, looking overjoyed that Kit spoke to him. “I can handle him, KK. Don’t worry about little old me. I’m just irritated that I don’t know what the problem will be so I can start strategizing.”
Kit ducks his head, shrugging a little as he mumbles, “I think it’s bullshit that anyone has to fight him about something as basic as clothing. But I didn’t attend schools with uniforms before this, so I don’t know how they deal with shit. I’m not very helpful in that regard.”
“What did the humans wear, if not uniforms? We’ve seen movies, of course, but it feels more realistic coming from someone who lived it, shrimp. Go ahead… regale us with your human customs.”
Jasper’s tone is mocking and the poor guy’s face flushes, though I don’t know if it’s anger or embarrassment. The sparks of fiery indignance he usually has are dimmed lately, even when our grumpy leader is challenging him directly. I’m not sure what the issue is, but I don’t like it. I actually enjoy his disobedience and temper; it’s fun to watch him go nose-to-nose with everyone, even me.
“Don’t be dense. They wore normal fucking clothes: jeans, tees, sweats, whatever. The rules were only about stupid shit like cuts or length or holes… The rules up there are all rooted in bullshit puritanism,” Kit fires back as he stabs a piece of meat with his fork. “Well, that and like, logos or words that people deemed not appropriate for school.”
Human coddle their young far too much; it’s weird as fuck.
“What a subjective set of criteria,” Jasper muses. “It doesn’t matter what the style is or how professional you look—only that you follow randomly selected rules about hiding your flesh.”
“I didn’t say they weren’t stupid. The rules are always disproportionately skewed towards making girls feel as though they’re bad for existing in their bodies. But that’s the whole religion-based garbage, right? It’s an epidemic of idiots up there.” Kit wipes his mouth, shrugging again. “At least the bad guys down here are pretty identifiable by sight.”
“So you’d assume…” Jasper smirks a bit, tilting his head. “But we can’t always tell by sight, even in Hell.”
That earns him a snort from the little demon, who goes back to his plate. Rolling my eyes, I look over at X. “Come with me to fetch the plates, Xerxes. We’re wasting precious fuel up time debating whether or not demons look evil.”
I probably earned the dirty look the Prince gave me, but I’m okay with it.
The rest of lunch is uneventful, which I’m grateful for. Kit has a free period, which he and Oriel said they were going to the library during. I have History of Warfare with Octavian, and since he’s been exiled to the school to teach in his old age, I know I can skip it. He’s one of my father’s acolytes and his presence here is specifically to ferret out those who might be nudged into applying to be in the officer ranks of Hell’s legions. It takes a certain kind of persuasiveness to convince a demon from an elite family to slough off a life of excess at court to serve in the legion, but the old trickster is good at it. His exile is mostly a cover created to make his presence palatable to the academics who work here.
They get shirty about military recruiting in their hallowed halls of education and I don’t blame them.
However, my father is crafty as fuck and has the King’s ear at all times. He knows how to play the game right within the rules—mostly—without overstepping, so the King looks the other way. There’s a method to this madness, of course. It’s much easier to convince the court that their precious children don’t have to march for every uprising, than if the military was only filled with conscripted low-level demons. That means he can laze about like an indolent old fool more often than he actually has to do anything.
Skipping won’t hurt my average a bit—I’ve been learning the shit these kids are being taught in that class since I could walk. My graduation here is about appearances, not necessary learning. So missing this class to do a little recon on the listless demon we’re all orbiting isn’t really a big deal. I let him and O walk towards the library building, giving them enough space to keep myself from being noticed, then charted my path behind them.
Oriel’s skill at subterfuge makes this much harder, but I’m trained in this as well.
“There’s something off and I want to know what it is,” I justify to myself. “It is not an invasion because I am the second-in-command verifying the well being of my caliphate.”
I’m not stupid; I know that I’m going about this in a ridiculous way, but I also don’t want to confront the little demon and have him shrink further into himself. In truth, I’m not even sure if Oriel and Salem see the entirety of the change in Kit. They’re happy he’s including them and their beasts are happy to have been introduced. That’s a hell of a drug, so it might be coloring their ability to read him.
“I see it, though. He’s struggling with something and doesn’t want people to know.”
Shaking my head as I realize how ridiculous it is for me to talk to myself as I cross the quad, I keep a close eye on my avian brother as he and Kit move through the lunch time crowds. I’m not built for stealth, but I know how to keep myself from sticking out too badly. When they pause for a moment, I find a group to get close to, hoping to distract from my bulk. They look at me oddly and I give them a fierce expression that shuts up the one loudmouth who squawks.
Idiots. Only a bunch of absolute fools would not recognize someone from the royal caliphate.
Kit finishes tying his boot, then they move on, climbing the stairs to the library annex quickly. I keep my distance until they’ve been inside for at least five minutes, then peel off from my gaggle of demons. Striding toward my target, I check the surrounding area before I ascend the stairs and go inside. I’m fairly certain O wouldn’t leave Kit on his own, but he does enjoy being an ass by showing up in crow form in places he shouldn’t be.
“Now where would they go?” I murmur to myself as I look at the diagram of the various levels on the wall.
The main hall is busy, buzzing with students as they gather materials and settle in at tables and computers. It wouldn’t be here; Kit would hate this mess. Frowning, I look again and disregard the lower floors. After his incident, he’d only go down there if he had a specific thing to find in the ancient stacks. I think they went up, but I have to Sherlock Holmes my way to their location.
“Not the magical archives—Kit wouldn’t be looking that up just yet. The floors with fiction are also unlikely; they will be busy and filled with demons looking for something to occupy their free time.” My eyes scan the rest of the list and I grin triumphantly. “The floor under construction that has historical and religious texts. That will be quiet and mostly deserted, plus it seems to have an area by the construction that used to be a reading alcove.”
Pleased with my detective work, I head for the stairs. It’s not a long climb and I can’t control who is on the other side of the doors if I take the elevator. When I exit the stairwell, I should be able to see through a window to verify my targets aren’t within visual range. I take them two at a time, noting I’m getting cardio in as well, which is convenient. I like efficiency, especially when it’s beneficial to me.
At the doorway to the top level, I peek through the window and note that I don’t see either of my targets nearby. I slip in, making sure the door shuts quietly as I recall the layout of the floor from the map. Remembering the terrain is also something I’m very good at—I’ve been sent on many missions in the Wastelands to test my survival skills by my Father. My navigational prowess is superb, so I didn’t end up getting lost while I fetched whatever bullshit he pretended to want. It is helpful right now and I hate thinking I should be grateful to the grouchy asshole.
Slinking over to the tall shelving, I make my way towards the alcove I believe they are in carefully. The stacks provide a lot of cover, even for someone of my size. I’m able to get close enough to see them huddled against overturned furniture, sitting on the ground as they chat. Kit looks less stressed as he leans against the chair, and O is facing him as he leans back on his hands.
“They all feel so… cold and distant,” Kit says as he picks at the weave on his pants. “Every once in a while, like with the clothes thing at lunch, I see glimpses of how it was before. But it’s short and then they’re all closed off again. I didn’t mean to upset everyone by letting you and Salem go first. You’re both just… you know. You were nice from the beginning and didn’t let Jasper push you to be a jerk. It made it easier somehow.”
Well, fuck. That explains everything. But what do I do about it?