an unkindness of ravens

douze

— douze ; twelve —

"WHY DID YOU REALLY come here?"

Henri gripped the table at his back with two hands, needing something to steady him. "Fucks sake," Henri muttered, trying to think straight around the alcohol turning his body to candy floss. "Same reason you did. To play Exy."

Jude looked unconvinced by that answer. "Couldn't wait another two years until you joined us?"

"No."

"That doesn't make any sense," KJ interjected with a scowl. "The press is going to have a field day with you. Why would they break their rules to recruit you at such a young age?"

Henri smirked at him. "Must just be that good."

Whoever had thought that funnelling alcohol into his system before grilling him with questions was a good idea was a fucking idiot. Henri felt like he wasn't even living in his own body, the world a dark smudge filled with bright lights, and he couldn't focus on a single person long enough to see them. See them properly, that is. He knew the person pinning him against the table was Jude and his expression was inexplicably murderous as he leant forward in Henri's face.

"There's something about your family," he said. "Jean was the same. Acting all weird. You're both hiding from something — someone. I want answers."

"That...isn't a question."

"Who are you?" he pressed. "Really?"

"Henri Sebastian Moreau."

Jude snatched up a glass from the table and dumped it over his head. He gasped as the cold liquid and ice cubes spilled over his skin, tasting alcohol as it touched his lips, but it managed to wake him up a little and shake a little of the disorientation away.

"What the hell do you want me to say?" Henri said through gritted teeth. "That's the only answer I can give, you fucking asshole. Leave me the hell alone."

Jude had another glass in hand before Henri could react but Xander caught his wrist before he could throw the contents in Henri's face again. "Hey," Xander frowned. "He answered the question. Lay off, Jude."

"Mind your own fucking business," Jude snarled.

"Xander has a point," Matthias said. "We all know you're just pissed off at the rookie because of Soren. Why don't you just ask him the question you really care about?" Matthias looked at Henri with a curious tilt of his head. "How did you manage to get his attention?"

Henri blinked. "What?"

"I've seen the way he watches you. We all have." Matthias indicated to Jude, whose jaw was working with barely contained fury. "Why do you think Jude is so annoyed at you? Soren follows you with his eyes, not just on the court, in a way he never watched Ju — "

Jude threw himself at Matthias before he could finish that sentence, knocking into him with enough force that they both hit the floor. Henri scrambled back to avoid being caught in the tussle, but he still didn't have complete control over his body, and ended up crashing into one of the nearby tables. He staggered to his feet with a groan to see a crowd converging around Matthias and Jude, but he didn't stick around to see the outcome. Something told him Jude would be coming for him next.

He fought through the crush of people, without any particularly direction but away from the upperclassmen. He felt like he was drowning in bodies until he finally found the bar curving around the edge of the room, grabbing one of the barstools to keep himself upright. He felt a little like he was floating on a cloud and a little like throwing up. It was a bizarre combination, and something told him the upperclassmen weren't finished forcing drinks down his throat to the point he wouldn't remember this night. He needed to sober up a little before that happened.