(Do you know how hard it is to write humor centered around Pride, though?! It's ridiculous, I tell you, but I think I've succeeded!)
XIX. Profanity
-— Pride says something he shouldn't.
Suffice it to say, Pride has had a terrible day.
Fourth grade would wear on anyone's patience, but today was worse than usual; he was roped into the class' play for the year, some asinine production called "A Christmas Carol." Though he put his foot down about playing Tiny Tim, the teacher still insisted on casting him as such, claiming he is just perfect for the part.
Mother will be proud, he's sure. Wrath will laugh himself into insanity.
He stalks into the house after school is over for the day, exuding as much irritation as he can without breaking his charade. He discreetly checks around every corner to ensure Wrath's wife will not assault him, because he's not sure how much more humanity he can take for the day; he needs to either lock himself in his room or escape to the tunnels beneath Central for a few hours, allow himself to drop the facade and cool down before he accidentally kills someone. After all, that would do nothing but hinder Father's plans.
To his great chagrin, though, human women seem to have a sixth sense for their younger counterparts, and his mother comes up behind him just before he enters his room. "Selim!" she calls cheerfully, several feet behind him but hurrying closer. "How was your day, dear?"
Pride barely contains himself from dropping his act entirely, swearing fluently under his breath before turning to Wrath's wife, doing his best to plaster happiness onto his face. However, instead of the smile he's come to expect from the woman, her mouth has dropped open slightly, and her brows are shooting down in indignation as she stares at him.
He stares right back, the smile falling off his face as he looks at her in mild confusion. Not five seconds ago, she seemed perfectly happy to annoy him into near-destruction; now, she seems...angry? What for? Humans are so strange.
"Selim!" she nearly shrieks, and Pride winces at the volume and proximity of her voice. "Where on Earth did you learn such language?"
Oh. That's right, small children aren't supposed to say such things. He's never really understood why—after all, words are words, and the best options should always be used to properly portray his opinions—but for some reason, to humans, some are inappropriate for common use.
How could he have forgotten something so important? He wants to kick himself for being so humanly idiotic.
"I'm sorry, Mother," he says, injecting as much contriteness into his tone as he possibly can. "I've just—not had a very good day, and was hoping I could take a nap before supper."
His attempted diversion does not faze her; she's still glaring harshly down at him, crossing her arms over her chest, and he knows he will not be getting out of this so easily. He has to forcefully swallow down the urge to kill something as she replies, "I want to know where you heard those terrible words, young man—because I know it wasn't from me! Do I need to have a talk with your father? Or perhaps your teachers? This is completely unacceptable—"
"No, it wasn't any of them," he assures her quickly, because he definitely doesn't want to have this conversation with Wrath today. "I don't remember—it might have been some of the soldiers when I visited Central Command..."
He hopes this is an acceptable excuse, that she will drop it with only a stern warning not to speak in such a way again. She continues glaring down at him for several more moments, and he has to school his features carefully to ensure his facade doesn't slip. She's intelligent—for a human—and probably won't miss something like that.
"We will discuss this with your father when he comes home," she says finally, though the angry crease in her brow shows she's not happy with his explanation. "Make sure you don't say such things again, young man, or I'll wash your mouth out with soap."
"Yes, Mother," Pride says, acting contrite, but watches her from the shadows as she disappears around the corner, down the stairs, and into the living room.
If she ever dares to try such a thing, he won't hesitate to rip her apart.
.
.
Wrath, when he comes home that evening, is in an exceptionally good mood.
Pride cannot fathom why, but when his brother sweeps into the kitchen, pulling his wife into a quick hug (which is rare in and of itself), Pride can barely contain his temper. And when Wrath turns to him, cheery mask still in place, and asks how his day went, Pride nearly snaps then and there.
(Why has this put him in such a terrible mood? Such petty things as a human's irritation with his language should not bother him so. In fact, it shouldn't bother him at all. He is above humans—they are weak—they do not at all matter—)
"We actually need to discuss that, dear," Wrath's wife says, her lips pulling down into a frown as she turns to look at both of them. "Selim—well, Selim said some things earlier that a child his age should never say."
"Oh?" Wrath says, sounding interested, raising his eyebrows as he looks to Pride in question. "And what might that be?"
His mother doesn't seem about to inform him, so Pride heaves a sigh, barely stops himself from rolling his eyes, and says in a falsely-contrite voice, "I had a terrible day at school, and I used some—some words that I think I must have heard from some of the soldiers. I realize it was inappropriate."
No apologies, of course, as he's done nothing wrong. But his tone seems to satisfy Wrath's wife, for she nods her approval before turning back to the stove. Wrath's eyebrows have risen even higher on his head, something that might almost be a smirk pulling on the sides of his mouth. Pride's scowl only darkens, daring his brother to say anything. They have to play house here, yes, and he can't give retribution yet, but...
"Well, I'm astonished that any of my soldiers were so impolite as to use such language around such a small child," Wrath says after a moment, ruffling Pride's hair (their shadows twitch threateningly, and Wrath quickly retracts his hand) before turning to his wife, "I'm sure he's learned his lesson. He'll have to hear such words someday, after all—he's a growing boy, and teenagers speak like that all the time!" He chuckles, walking away from Pride (giving him an escape) before continuing, "Why, I've told you of the Fullmetal Alchemist boy, haven't I? He..."
Pride doesn't wait to hear the rest of the conversation; satisfied that Wrath has successfully diverted any sort of inane human punishment, he slips away, back up the stairs, and does not return until his mother calls him for supper.
He doesn't know whether he's more irritated about Wrath's wife being upset with him, or the fact that he still has to act in that damn play, but either way, he's in a foul mood for the rest of the night.
.
.
And when Wrath and his wife find out exactly what happened at school today, their reactions are just as expected; her face lights up, all ire forgotten, and promises to help him with the script; his face shows a mask of pleasant surprise, carefully hiding the hysteria buried just beneath...
And when Envy comes up to him the next day, asking slyly whether Tiny Pride would mind his siblings attending the show, he does not hesitate in literally tearing him apart.
