Demons (Damirae)

Chapter Fifty-Seven

The plan was simple.

Jason would go in to deep cover. He would get in to the Council. Investigate. Report his findings. Discover how the weapons were reaching humans. All under Jackson's direction.

Simple, not easy.

And as Jason (clothed in pearly white robes that made him feel like a cross between a ghost and a priest) sized up the man staring at him, he realised that maybe he hadn't considered the repercussions of agreeing to go undercover in a nest of magical creatures- but it was too alluringly illegal an offer to refuse! The man, if you could even call him that, radiated old: he was about four foot; more wrinkled than a prune (looked like one too); and was drowning in his white robes.

There was a difference in the garments he wore and the ones Jason did: a single triangle of light blue fabric sewn in to the right shoulder. On Jason's, the triangle was dark blue- almost black. Every person he'd seen in this place had some sort of blue shaded triangle on their clothes (a status symbol most likely, and since they were 'Light' Jason deduced that the darkest triangles were the lowest in the hierarchy).

Around him, identically garbed individuals pranced, almost gliding above the pale marble floor (some of them floating, several flying with light coloured wings that would turn Hawkgirl to envy). The entire front lobby was bathed in an ethereal light issuing from three large, elaborate chandeliers, holding more candles that Jason had seen in his life, which hung at roughly the distance of Wayne Manor's ballroom chandeliers.

At either end of the lobby (which was about the size of a football pitch) two entrances were accessorised with whitened wood doors. One end was wide open, the other, firmly shut. The shut one led to the world outside where humans dwelled; the open one led deeper in to the maze of the Council's Gotham sector base. On the other two sides were what could only be described as looking like two rows of bank tellers- like the Goblins at Gringots, but looking like regular people. Jason thought Tim would be prions of that Harry Potter reference.

As his mind lingered on the thought of goblins, Jason considered that the little wrinkly man in front of him could be a goblin. He almost laughed, sadly, the old priest thing began speaking.

He croaked, "Aaaaare you new here booooy?"

"Yep! First day!", Jason grinned, satisfied to be towering over the squirt abs wishing for nothing more than to be able to squash him.

"Aaah. You'll want to sign in over theeere boy.", he pointed a spindly, quivering finger to the rows of people sitting at deals, behind glass panes, behind Jason.

"Will do."

Before the man-who-looked-like-a-hundred-year-old-turtle could get in another patronising groan, Jason dashed in front of an empty booth, avoiding two women hovering their way up the door and a man with dragonfly wings buzzing away.

"Can I be of assistance?", the individual behind the screen- her triangle was baby blue- asked.

As the lady's chirpy voice hit his ears and beaming smile blinded his eyes, Jason considered the fact that he was probably going to hate it here. Oh well, at least he'd have some fun stories to tell- shit, he meant, lots of information to tell, this certainly wasn't an opportunity to stretch the limits of pisstakery as far as they could be stretched, no no!

Jason glanced over the woman sitting at the desk, a smirk coming to his face, before (naturally) they slipped a little lower. He could really cause some subtle mischief in this place- these people looked far too high stung: he could start with this one here, she seemed interesting enough.

What is the point of entering a secret community of pure souls if you don't corrupt a few?

***

The bed was awfully soft, and Damian was awfully warm, and Raven was awfully comfortable. But life is an absolute arsehole, so naturally, Dick would be shouting the house down for the Titans to 'suit up' because 'there's a problem downtown'.