Demonic Delights and Holy Cupcakes

Both Ways

Day one out of training and Gavin had been assigned a demon who had been in Baltha's ranks until the Laochra Síocháin had been stood up. The man was old enough that he had seen several actual battles, though only occupied a general patrol position for reasons beyond Gavin's understanding.

Still. As a demon, and one old enough to be walking around in Praetoria, the man could most likely kill Gavin with the snap of his fingers. And the shifter knew it would eventually be brought up, as it usually was within the hierarchy of Kin. Eventually, the demon would make sure Gavin knew he was low on the totem pole, no matter who his friends were.

Mesna, the fire demon who was his partner, had looked less than pleased to find out they had assigned him a rookie the evening before, when Gavin had been introduced to the shift. Even less so when he realized it was Gavin.

Through training, Gavin had done his best to keep his head down and not mention who he knew or what he had already been through. Not that being rescued by the indomitable High Commissioner, or being friends with Lucifer's General and granddaughter was really something he would consider worth bragging about.

And he hoped to whatever benevolent, omnipotent beings that might be out there, that no one would find out he had nearly died fighting vampires and had been saved by Nymphs.

Yup, that was the extend of his life experience when it came down to it. But enough demons had known that he was friends with Baltha that it was soon common knowledge that Gavin was "well connected."

And still more remembered him being hauled across the city by Torix, while bleeding to death. Luckily, most of the instructors were Murchadh's blood elves, people who knew him enough to not to take pleasure in making him pay more than anyone else during the gruelling indoctrination and training they had gone through.

But here, in the office that he would receive his daily assignments from, and several floors down from where Torix worked at running the place, those that had been patrolling the last couple months learned about his connections too. His reputation preceded him the moment he had shown up for work that morning. Most of them weren't hostile. Some of those who recognized him even offered him grins or nods of solidarity, but they had assigned him to a demon who wasn't one of them.

"Just because you're well connected, doesn't mean you'll be able to slack off." Mesna shoved Gavin's helmet at him after picking it up off the bench in the patrol office.

"I won't." Gavin strapped on his helmet, which was thankfully as subdued as the rest of the armour they had to wear.

Gone were the obnoxiously brilliant gold and silver suits of armour that the Guardians had worn, replaced by functional, burnished steel and low-profile headgear.

Mesna glared at him for a moment before shaking his head and starting out the door, leaving Gavin to jog to catch up to him as he strapped on his weapons. "As long as you're with me and my team, we show up three hours early and do drills and sparring."

Gavin winced internally, seeing as how he had shown up only a half hour before the timing he had been given the night before. "Alright."

He didn't bother arguing that he hadn't known, suspecting that the demon wouldn't care either way.

"And depending on how shitty you are at it, and I'm suspecting you're probably awful, even the blood elves can't do much in three months, I'll have to stay late with you after shift for a couple more hours of training." Mesna led him out of the building and down onto the streets, curling his lip in distaste. "Plan is to get you trained up enough that you can move into the Council Protective Unit. But I'm not sending you there green. Now that you wear a uniform, you'll have expectations as to your capabilities."