Belief In The Occult

Twenty Six

Now that his training had restarted, Kodiak spent most of the weekdays out of the house. When he got back in the afternoons, he would be tired or irritated, which put off Alto, Zophie, and Fable, but didn't seem to phase Maci in the least, who was always somehow able to make her way past the thorny attitude with cheery ease.

And he must be exercising his powers, because that's what training implied, but everyone else didn't know much about them, aside from what the general knowledge of poltergeists implied and Kodiak's ability to make the atmosphere of a room uneasy or anxiety-inducing at will.

Alto still didn't know much about Kodiak. He was friends with Maci, and seemed more attached to Faust, but outside of that he was like an unsociable housecat. An agonizingly pretty thing that wanted nothing to do with anybody.

He was also decently sure Kodiak had started discorporating to avoid him, which he pretended didn't hurt his feelings a little. Alto thought they were good after he apologized, since they really hadn't had any other major bumps, and Kodiak seemed to really like the music player, but nothing at all had come of it.

Maybe he was still just introverted. Hopefully. He never seemed to vanish when Zophie or Fable were in the room, but the moment Alto came in Kodiak was suddenly out of sight.

He really tried not to let that hurt his feelings.

"Kodiak, what is the matter? You're much more tired as of late." Varick chastised from the top of the stairs, standing with his cane in the crook of his arm as Kodiak stood in the middle of the living room below, hands on his knees and wheezing slightly. From the random shiny objects placed around the room, it could be guessed they were practicing Kodiak's ability to enter non-mirror reflective surfaces.

Varick's brow creased, "How much time do you spend incorporeal? You know the less time you spend on the material plane the weaker you get."

"Only... to travel." Kodiak assured. It wasn't often he lied, but this was one of those times. When he figured out how to articulate 'I keep turning into a puff of smoke at random times and I don't exactly know why' without sounding ridiculous, he would tell Varick. Until then...

"Alright." Varick conceded, though he was frowning doubtfully, "Try the wine glass again, then we're done for the day."

There was something different about being friends with Maci. She wasn't pushy, didn't want to know why he did or didn't do things, she just wanted proximity and to talk his ear off about everything and nothing at all, and his participation was optional. She wouldn't have cared if he was totally inanimate, he just needed to be Kodiak.

Maybe that was why he liked being friends with her so much. He didn't have to strive to reflect, like normal. Developing personality was difficult when you were meant to be a mimic. And because of her tendency to talk and talk and talk, he learned a lot about her.

For instance, she got crushes constantly.

"She was so pretty Kodiak, the prettiest demon I have ever seen in my entire life." Maci gushed. She had recently gotten back from a trip to the Capitol with Ramsey. Kodiak had never been to the Capitol, and really hoped Varick never made him.

From his position of laying on his stomach and buried in her comforters, Kodiak asked with recognizable snark instead of the usual monotone, "Even prettier than the last one?"

Maci frowned, but didn't seem to pick up on the sarcasm, instead staring at the various cute animal posters on the opposite wall, deep in thought, "Well he was handsome, yeah, but even he pales in comparison to her! She's so beautiful Kodiak, she was six feet tall, with the shiniest grey-brown dragon plate mail you've ever seen, and her eyes were just a breathtaking orange-yellow, my favorite color!"