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Gotham's Dead End Bar Ch.39
🕑 Added 2024-04-04 02:14:35 +0000 UTCI couldn’t help but feel that tonight would be an eventful one. Whether that’s because every night at the Dead End was eventful in its own right or because something new would be happening tonight, I didn’t quite know. Perhaps both could be true at the same time.
Tonight’s cast wasn’t particularly unique. Just the usual Gothamites. Notably, there weren’t any heroes who showed up tonight. Just my villainous regulars. Even Barbara and Kara were busy with something or another. It was a far cry from the night when Savage had visited the Dead End.
Not that it was bad. And certainly never boring. There needed to be these lowkey nights every once and a while. It made the more spectacular nights all the more spectacular.
The only thing of real note in the first half of the night was Catwoman deciding to break into her bottle of Ambrosia — the one I was holding on ice for her. She had something worth celebrating, it seemed. I made her tell the story of her ‘victory’ as a sort of bottle tax but she didn’t seem to mind.
The purring kitty sipped her golden, godly ‘milk’, smirking and telling us about her big score.
“So you all know how Black Mask has essentially taken over the city’s Crime Families?”
There was a general round of agreement with that statement and I nodded. Being mainly based in Gotham, it paid for me to keep up with the goings on outside my bar. Doubly so since Black Mask’s take-over was partially facilitated by the Dead End’s neutrality and the Colosseum of Crime.
After the impromptu grand opening with Savage, the Colosseum had seen a relatively high amount of traffic. The ‘compromise’ that Gotham’s underground had come to agree on in these very walls — seemingly so long ago — went into effect. Most of the big criminal disputes were solved by ‘honorable’ combat in the Colosseum instead of open gang warfare in the city’s streets these days.
The positive impact of the Colosseum and the Crime Families’ compromise had been even greater than expected. It wasn’t like people could walk the streets at night completely without fear — Gotham would never be free of crime. But they could at least walk about without worrying that they would be caught in the crossfire of an all-out shoot-out on their way home from work.
Or even more than one shoot-out… Gotham’s gang problem couldn’t be understated. Especially when it came to the mundane Crime Families and the gangs that fell under their umbrellas. Perhaps surprisingly, they were much more vicious than the villains and their gangs. And much less discerning of collateral damage. It made for a nasty combination.
But it seemed that with his steady take-over of the underground scene, Black Mask was working to change that. Likely to stay off my bad side. I got the impression that pissing off the man who negotiated such a personally beneficial compromise for him was the last thing on Black Mask’s to-do list. And Sofia Falcone at least was sharp enough to work alongside him there and bide her time. Together, they made sure the rest of the gangs and Families stayed in line and stuck to their agreement.
In comparison, the villain gangs weren’t nearly as bad as the mundane ones or Crime Families. Mostly because they had definitive figureheads to rally around. It cut down on in-fighting and power politics. But also because by their very nature, the villain gangs were caught up in the city’s ‘cape game’. It led to them warring less with other gangs and simply focusing on surviving the force of nature that was the Bat Family. Of course, it also helped that the worst offenders didn’t last long beneath the watchful eyes of both their villainous leaders AND the Bats.
“Yes, he has been busy,” Bane rasped in reply to Catwoman’s leading question.
“Busy?” Two-Face snorted. “That’s one way to put it. He’s been on a warpath. Only skipping the ‘war’ part of that thanks to the Colosseum and the Dead End. He has an un-fricking-fair advantage when it comes to the Colosseum’s ‘dispute duels’.”
Penguin chuckled, “But that’s part of the fun, isn’t it? It means we have to be extra selective of our champions if we wish to go against him. And with us holding our top men and women to a higher standard, the talent at our disposal is improving by leaps and bounds. My talent is, at least.”
“Yeah, yeah, ‘win-win’ and all that,” Two-Face grumbled. “Still don’t make it fair that he has a buff-type power to call upon.”
“And you have political and legal connections out the wazoo,” Penguin shrugged. “I have old money and proper class. Bane has support outside the city and his own strength. We’ve all got our advantages.”
“I’d actually say that Black Mask is one of the worst off among us,” Bane added. “All he has going for him is his support power and ruthless cunning.”
“Boys,” Catwoman got their attention again with a laidback and amused smirk. “Do you wish to hear about my latest score or not?”
“I’d love to hear it, Selena,” I said. “Please, go on.”
The others nodded, signaling for her to continue, and Catwoman did, “Well, Black Mask wished to procure my services for a lovely little challenge. He paid quite handsomely and I got to keep most of the loot. All he wanted were the boring papers and files that I would have used as kitty litter anyway.”
“Nice,” Two-Face grunted. “So what was the job?”
Catwoman’s catlike grin spread, “Ohoho~ That’s where it gets fun~… He wanted me to hit the Crime Families’ dons. All of them. Even his public ally in the Falcones~”
“Now, that is interesting…” Penguin let out a low whistle. “A betrayal in the works, do you think? Or merely keeping his ally in check?”
Catwoman gave a lazy shrug, “I could hardly care. I was only interested in the challenge of the job. Black Mask said there was no time limit so long as the job got done. But where would the fun be in that~…?”
I chuckled, interjecting into the slight pause between her sentences, “So you did the whole job in one night.”
“So I did the whole job in one night!” Catwoman declared proudly, only to stop and pout when she realized I’d beaten her to it. “… Dammit, Sean. Yes, I did the whole thing at once. Five mafia dons, back-to-back. It was the most fun I’ve had in quite a while.”
“Very impressive,” Penguin complimented. “Did you ‘Full Ghost’ run it?”
“I-…” Catwoman paused in confusion. “What?”
“You know, a 100% full stealth and full pacifist run? Like you can do in MGS2 and other video games? That’s where the real fun is,” Penguin clarified.
Catwoman just stared at him, bemused, “The more I learn about you, Oswald, the stranger you become.”
“Eh, he’s just a gamer,” I shrugged, coming to Penguin’s defense. “Full stealth runs are usually the most challenging and fun ways to play a game. And often required to 100% them.”
Penguin nodded, “If I wasn’t such a clutz, I’d spend all of my time sneak-walking.”
“It’s not efficient but it’s sure as Hell is fun,” I agreed.
Catwoman’s bemusement shifted to cover both of us, “You two are simply ridiculous.”
She shook her head and went back to her Ambrosia. As she did, I felt something at the core of the Dead End shift. Something OUTSIDE caught my bar’s attention. I let the Genius Loci take whatever action it felt was needed. One of the connecting portal doors moved a few miles but stayed in the same city.
I made myself busy, absently ‘watching’ the Dead End’s Genius Loci. Not long after, the displaced distant door-portal was opened and five young heroes walked into the bar. I hummed to myself in interest but didn’t immediately draw attention to the Teen Titans. Damian strode up to the bar while the stunned others held back a little way.
Damian announced his return and was welcomed warmly by Didi and the regular villains. Then he requested my aid and I felt obliged to hear him out. Damian was NOT the type to ask for help if he didn’t absolutely need it. For him to come to me, the situation must have been pretty dire. The only thing I could think it could possibly be was… I glanced at the rest of the Titans, specifically Raven. Oh.
She did not look like she was having the night of her life. The exact opposite, if I had to guess. She was worn down. Run raw and ragged. Even from this distance, I could see dark circles under her eyes that I doubt would normally have been there. They stood out all the more against her deathly pale skin, making her look almost raccoonish.
Yet, beneath it all, there was steel in her spine. A strength of will that made her hauntingly beautiful to look at still. Despite not being at her most presentable right now, there was no denying that Raven was gorgeous. Or that her multiversally-famous goth vibes managed to hit my strike zone perfectly.
Given my relationship with Didi, you could (accurately) say I had a thing for goth girls. I loved their style. I loved the darkness. I loved the freaky little quirks that came with their stereotype.
And when it came to exemplifying those traits I loved, Raven was second only to Didi. And even then, it was a close battle for first, with only my pre-existing bias winning out.
Raven’s color scheme fit her perfectly. Purple so dark it was essentially black contrasted beautifully with flawless deathly pale skin that could have rivaled Didi’s complexion. But while Didi’s skin was a more ‘bone-white’ deathly pale, Raven’s leaned a bit more toward a pleasant gray. Like overcast clouds just barely blocking the sun.
Her cloak hid most of her body but her hood was down, revealing short purple hair that framed a delicate face. Damn-near dainty lips, plump and pursed in intense consideration. Her nose was sharp and uniquely shaped, less of a ‘button’ and more of a ‘pointed nib’. A single red jewel adorned her forehead.
And though her cloak covered her from the neck down, it didn’t do such a good job of completely concealing her modesty. It moved as she shifted in place, hugging the right places just right to give a hint of the tantalizing figure beneath.
The swell of a hip as she shifted somewhat awkwardly from foot to foot. The surprisingly significant rise of her bust as she turned to look around the bar. And oh-so-brief flashes of inviting cleavage as the front of her cloak opened and closed again just as quickly.
She was — put entirely too simply — goth perfection. But it wasn’t just her looks that drew me to her. It was that worn and weakened steel in her spine. The defiance. The HOPE. And if I was being honest, it was the way she suddenly looked at me with stunned infatuation at first sight, that electric spark of something other than HOPE in her eyes…
Well, now I HAD to hear little Dami out, “Go on, tell me your problems, Damian. I’ll see what I can do to help. It’s kind of my duty as a bartender to at least lend an open ear. And you’re practically family through Babs so I feel like it’s fair to go a bit above and beyond for you.”
“You are a hero in your own right, Mr. Barkeep,” Damian nodded respectfully.
“Call me Sean, Damian. Again, practically family,” I waved off his formality. “Now, how about you call over your friends and we can get to seeing what ails you, yeah?”
Damian blinked, looking back at the rest of his team, “Titans? Is something wrong? Do you not want to meet Mr. Barkeep?”
“Dude,” Cyborg deadpanned. “You just sprayed Catwoman in the face with a spray bottle. Like an actual cat.”
Damian nodded as if he didn’t see anything wrong with that statement, “Of course. You have to take a firm hand with Aunt Selina. She needs to respect my boundaries when in public. The spray bottle is simply the most efficient way to enforce discipline.”
“Only in public~” Catwoman chortled teasingly. “My little Dami is adorably affectionate in private.”
Impressively, Damian barely blushed, “Not in front of my team, Aunt Selina. Now, there is no need to be frightened, team. No one here means us any harm.”
“This place is just… a bit much, that’s all,” Beast Boy said hesitantly.
“Well, I for one am always happy to meet the friends of new~!” Starfire chimed cheerfully.
“Can we at least not do this in front of an entire bar?” Raven asked flatly, in sharp contrast to Starfire’s energy and enthusiasm.
“Ah. Yes, that might be prudent,” Damian turned back to me. “Sean, may I request a private space for this conversation?”
I shrugged, “Sure. Hey, Alice? Watch the bar for a few minutes, will you?”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Alice waved me off and turned to pose at the rest of the bar with proud fists on her hips. “Hear that, peasants?! I’m in charge now! Bow before the Queen of the Dead End, Black Alice the Daughter of Death!”
“Oh dear,” Didi sighed, shaking her head fondly. “We’re going to regret giving her this power, aren’t we?”
“She’ll be fine,” I dismissed. “The Dead End itself will keep an eye on her if worst comes to worst. It’s not like she can burn the place down. Do you want in on this as well, Didi?”
“For little Damian?” Didi raised a rhetorical eyebrow. “Yes, I believe I do. Leaving my favorite offspring of an immortal out in the rain just wouldn’t sit right with me, I don’t think.”
Damian puffed himself up proudly at Didi’s words. The rest of the Titans looked at him oddly as if they barely recognized him. I doubt they were used to seeing Damian like this. Honestly, I doubt they even knew about his lineage on his mother’s side either.
“Alright, everyone,” I called. “Gather round. No, not you, Selina. This is personal business, I believe. We’ll need a bit of privacy.”
“So, uh, where are we going to have this conversation-…?” Beast Boy asked.
I barely let him finish. With the Titans all grouped up and Catwoman pacified for the moment, it was simple to mystically grab us all and throw us into a private instance. I clapped my hands and a pulse of power washed out of me. The bar seemed to empty in an instant. Only me, Didi, and the Titans remained.
Cyborg jumped, “What the Hell, man?! Ever heard of a little something called a ‘warning’?!”
Beast Boy was left blinking at the sudden change. Starfire looked around with wide, fascinated eyes — her curiosity bubbling right beneath the surface. Damian accepted my impossible act as a matter of course, not even twitching as the world outside this new private instance of the Dead End disappeared.
Raven gave a sharp little inhale, her expression otherwise impassive, “Fuck.”
“Like that~?” I teased, wiggling my eyebrows at her in an overexaggerated manner.
Raven slowly nodded, clearly trying to act cool, “Your magic is very powerful and impressive. I don’t believe I could even begin to understand the mechanisms behind this spell, let alone try to recreate it.”
“Well, I’ll give you a hint. Something to think over,” I offered. “The Dead End did most of the heavy lifting here.”
Raven’s expression didn’t change. I don’t think it ever did very much. But she adopted an aura of consideration and careful thought. Nodding to myself, I made sure the rest of the Titans were comfortable, pouring non-alcoholic drinks and letting them all sit down in front of me and Didi at the bar.
“Okay,” I finally said once everything was ready. “Let’s hear this problem of yours, Damian. What’ve you got for me?”
“I require a hefty favor, Sean,” Damian began. “One I do not think I could reasonably repay. But I must ask it regardless. You may be one of the only ones who can save not just our world, but our entire galaxy.”
“Tsk, you know I don’t usually get involved with hero business, Damian,” I tutted.
He nodded, “I do. And yet, I must regretfully ask that you make an exception in this case. Please hear my teammate out and help her solve her situation before it consumes her and the rest of the world.”
I hummed, “Hmm, I suppose I am quite partial to Earth. I do live here after all. And all my stuff is kept here. Well, most of my stuff… My bar. My bar is kept here.”
Didi giggled at me as I kept making allowances for all of the things I had stored in my soul, “It would be quite the hassle to move the Dead End, at least, darling.”
“How can you be so casual about this?” Cyborg asked incredulously.
I simply raised one eyebrow back at him, “Do you think this is my first galaxy-ending event?”
“Yes…?” With how bluntly I’d asked that, he now sounded unsure.
“It’s not,” I shook my head. “Far from it. Hell, I’ve even destroyed a galaxy or two myself. Cultivation is, as always, bullshit. Then again, so is EVERYTHING if you get to that scale…”
The TRUTH in my words had the Titans rocking back in their seats in shock. Damian just nodded confidently at Raven, “See? I told you our problems would be in good hands here.”
“How…?” Raven asked in an almost dead voice.
“Stick around after all of this is handled and you might find out~” I shot her a wink.
She closed her eyes and took a fortifying breath. When she opened them again, a certain spark of light shined from the depths of her soul. A spark almost anyone would be able to recognize as HOPE.
“You’ll help me destroy my father…? You’ll help me finally be FREE?”
I glanced over at Didi. She gave me an encouraging nod, sympathetic softness showing in her eyes. I glanced back and Raven and held her eyes, nodding, “Yeah, I think we can do that.”
Though her face barely twitched, a palpable sense of relief POURED out of Raven. It washed over the empty instance of the bar and all of the other Titans relaxed slightly. Enough for Cyborg to feel comfortable to ask a pressing question.
“Okay, so Bartender-Man here is insane. I think we can all see that now. But what about you, Miss? Who are you?”
Didi blinked, “Oh, we seem to have skipped a very important step of this conversation.”
“Yeah, introductions might not be amiss,” I nodded. “I’m Sean Caine. Most people call me Mr. Barkeep but feel free to call me Sean. I’m… well, I’ve been a lot of things. Comes with being a serial reincarnator. But now, I’ve found my true calling as Death’s Prince Consort. Nice to meet you all.”
“And I’m Death of the Endless. Sean’s partner. And Patron, I suppose…” Didi paused to consider that before shaking her head and smiling kindly at the Titans. “Call me Didi.”
There was only a brief, brief moment of stunned silence before the TRUTH set in once more. The Titans witnessed Didi in all her glory. Not really. She was Endless. If they tried to understand even a portion of her being, well… I’d be stuck cleaning up leaking brain matter.
But they understood enough. They understood that she wasn’t lying, that she was exactly who she said she was, and more. The calming acceptance of Death hummed through the bar. The spark of hope within Raven’s eyes flared, all but exploding into something completely new as she saw a mere hint of my and Didi’s capabilities.
“Huh,” Beast Boy said, his voice slightly strained and forced. “Neat.”
“Yup,” Cyborg nodded, his voice taking on the same tone. “Neat…”
The boys looked torn between wanting to run and being unable to move. The END OF ALL THINGS smiled gently at them. Didi’s kindness coaxed them down from the near-frantic ledge they were teetering on before they could do something regrettable. She meant them no harm. That much was made clear. If anything, DEATH was here to help.
“You are very lively for the Death,” Starfire observed, not quite reaching the frantic heights of her male teammates.
Didi chuckled, “I am an Endlessly complex being, Koriand’r. There can be no Life without Death and no Death without Life.”
“And since you are the Life, you will help friend Raven LIVE free from her father?” At Didi’s answering nod, Starfire clapped. “Wonderful~! The day is saved~!”
“Yes. I think I’d like to see that bastard try to beat Death,” Raven deadpanned, emotion bubbling just beneath her flat expression.
Didi smiled regretfully, “Not quite, little Titans. Things are not often as simple as they seem. Me and my Endless siblings are bound by rules of our own making. While Trigon may be a terrible father and scourge on the cosmos, he has not wronged me or my concept directly. As such, I can not reasonably justify taking action against him. Not myself.”
“Wha-… That’s…” Cyborg started to protest.
Starfire finished for him, “The bullshit!”
The rest of the Titans looked at the alien princess in surprise, “Damn, Star.”
Starfire blushed and looked away, “My apologies… But it is.”
“It’s perfectly understandable, Koriand’r,” Didi tittered behind her hand. “But please note that while I said there was no direct action I could take, I didn’t say that there was nothing we could do. That’s why I have Sean, after all.”
“One of the reasons, at least,” I smirked knowingly at her.
“So…” Raven’s flat voice trailed off leadingly.
I nodded, “So you don’t get Death but you get her Prince Consort. The next best thing, in my oh-so-humble opinion.”
“Perhaps better,” Didi giggled. “Sean’s methods are just as diverse as mine. If not more. He’ll be much more suited for this ‘favor’ and handling a situation like this.”
“That… Yeah, I think we can settle for ‘just’ Death’s Prince Consort,” Beast Boy joked.
“Don’t forget ‘serial reincarnator’,” Cyborg added. “Whatever the Hell that really means…”
“It means exactly what it says it means,” I deadpanned. “I’ve lived dozens of lives over dozens of realities. A little jumped-up demon like Trigon is hardly the worst thing I’ve faced.”
Raven paused, “… Let’s deal with my father before I even begin to process that.”
“You won’t get far there,” Damian said seriously. “Completely understanding Mr. Barkeep is an exercise in futility. As the League has painstakingly found out since his first appearance.”
I rolled my head as if casually stretching and grinned, “I try. Blowing mortal minds is a fun pastime of mine.”
“Still,” Damian shook his head. “I have to thank you for hearing us out, Sean. Without your help, I’m afraid the situation would be quite dire.”
“You heroes would have figured something out. It’s what you do,” I affirmed confidently.
“Perhaps,” Damian allowed. “That does not change the fact that we are in your debt. You shall always have a friend in the Teen Titans.”
“More than just a friend…” Raven mumbled under her breath. She wasn’t as quiet as she thought she was.
I chuckled but didn’t call her out on it, “Well then you can start honoring that debt by visiting the bar after all of this is dealt with. We’ve missed your surly sarcasm around here, Damian. And your friends are more than welcome to come too. Sit for a while. Listen to a few stories. Hell, bring your villains if you want. Debts are great but we care more about positive connections here at the Dead End.”
“Indeed,” Didi nodded her agreement. “Friends of Damian are future friends of ours. And we quite enjoy making new friends.”
“‘Bring your villains’…” Cyborg muttered. “Wild thing to say.”
Smirking at his disbelief, I changed the subject, “So shall we start figuring out how to handle this little mess you’re in, Raven?”
Raven stared dead at me, “‘Little mess’ is so not how I would describe Trigon the Terrible.”
“So you don’t want to call him that to his face?” I asked knowingly.
“… I want to call him that to his face.”
“Heh, that’s what I thought,” I chuckled. “The way I see it, you have a few real options. How much do you want to be involved with this whole thing?”
“I’m involved enough already,” Raven deadpanned. “I don’t care so long as I’m FREE of my father’s influence.”
I nodded, “I thought as much. Well, the quickest and easiest way forward is for me to simply KILL the connection between you and Trigon. He won’t be able to reach or threaten you ever again after that.”
“Hng…” Raven grunted, unconvinced. “Got any more permanent and gratifying solutions?”
“Sure,” I shrugged. “I could always just KILL Trigon himself. But I don’t know if you-…”
“Yes,” She interrupted me. “Just. Yes.”
“You sure?” I asked carefully. “That one comes with some risks. For one, you might ascend into his place in the cosmos. And for another, you’d have a death on your conscience. I know you heroes can get a bit iffy with killing people.”
“Don’t care. Want the bastard dead,” Raven would not be swayed now that she had the option presented to her.
“Alright, we’ll do it that way and just hope that you don’t become Raven the Ravenous or something in his place,” I agreed.
“Oh no~!” Starfire gasped. “Friend Raven would get the cosmic hunger~?!”
“I’m more concerned about her basically putting a hit out on her father. You sure you want to do this, Rae?” Beast Boy asked.
A slight smile spread across Raven’s face. It was small — barely an expression at all — but there was no denying the visceral viciousness there, “Positive.”
The Titans stared at her as if they barely knew her. Raven didn’t even flinch. It seemed she was more than willing to put her heroic tendencies aside when it came to her father. Not that I could really blame her with a shit dad like Trigon…
I clapped to get everyone’s attention, “Right, no use sitting around dallying when there’s a dead-beat demon to kill! Actually… Didi? Do you want me to grab Trigon’s soul for any reason?”
“Maybe?” Didi shook her hand so-so. “He doesn’t have a soul. Not really. Not in the traditional sense of the concept. He’s not even really a Demon. More a collection of HEART that acts as SOUL. That alone might make him interesting enough for me to fiddle around with for a while.”
“Wait, hold up. What?! He doesn’t have a soul?! How’s that even possible?” Cyborg asked.
“Yeah,” Beast Boy added. “I thought you kinda needed a soul. You know, to live? Like even plants have something, right? Some kind of little plant soul?”
Starfire giggled, “How adorable~! Little plant soul for the little plant leaves and the stems and the roots and the fruits~!”
“For the most part, that’s true,” Didi nodded. “As always, there are some exceptions. Trigon is one of them. He doesn’t have a traditional soul due to the nature of his ‘birth’ — not a single cohesive sense of self. He is more akin to several thousand atrocities and evils stuffed into a trenchcoat, pretending to be a soul.”
“He’s so evil he doesn’t need a soul,” Raven deadpanned.
“That…” Didi paused. “Is certainly one way to put it.”
I chuckled, “Then I’ll be sure to grab his weird ‘not-soul’ when I’m done. Now, how to do this…? Go to him or bring him to us?”
“Please do not bring Trigon the Terrible to Earth in any way, shape, or form,” Damian requested flatly. “I do not wish to fill out that paperwork. I will have enough after tonight as it is.”
“Fine, I’ll go to him,” I rolled my eyes goodnaturedly. “And to do that… Raven, stay still for a moment.”
I turned intense piercing eyes onto her as she all but froze in place in an instant. I peered deep, past her physical outer shell. My senses brushed over her soul. And though I didn’t intrude any more than I needed to, I could still feel the entirety of her being shudder and tingle. Her metaphysical senses couldn’t help but be dragged alongside mine, instinctively ‘looking’ where I was ‘looking’.
“W-What-…?” She stuttered slightly as I searched her soul and examined the inherent connection she had with her father.
“That,” I said, pointing out something only the two of us could currently see. “Is your father. His influence. His control over you. And a perfectly good trail for me to follow to find him.”
Pulling back, I nodded, satisfied, “That should do it.”
Raven half-glared at me and half-blushed a subtle pink color on her deathly pale skin, “Was it entirely necessary to be so… i-intimate…?”
“Yes. Now, do you have more to complain about or do you want me to kill your father like I said I would?” I asked, raising a single unflinching eyebrow.
Raven twitched ever-so-slightly, “… Can I watch?”
Her request was quiet. Almost softly spoken. It was flat. Her usual monotone that I’d already gotten used to and somewhat fond of. But despite those qualities, she didn’t bother even attempting to hide how utterly eager she was to see her father ENDED at my hands.
I barked a laugh, somewhat surprised by the request, “Ha! Yeah, I’ll see what I can do. Anyone else want to watch?”
“Shit, I’m going to regret this,” Cyborg grumbled. “But yeah. Yeah, we might as well.”
“I would also like to see the catharsis-healing of friend Raven’s soul!” Starfire chimed.
Barely pausing to think about it, I waved a hand. A spell connected to my vision. Another projected a screen above the bar in the nearly empty Dead End. The Titans found themselves staring at… themselves.
Raven stared intensely at the casual display of magic. I smirked at her. Heh, yeah, little ‘half-demon’. You like that? Something told me she did. I think — either due to her daddy issues or perhaps in spite of them — Raven was the kind of girl to get off on power. Especially magic. It made sense for someone who spent their whole existence powerless and striving for more power in the hope of FREEING herself.
And if I was right, she was going to love watching what came next. Already, I could see ever-so-minute twitches in her expression as something inside her RELISHED my casual displays of power. Yeah, the goth witch-demon girl was down bad for magic and power. Who would have guessed?
As Raven tried not to soak through her costume, I turned a portion of my mental attention farther afield. The connection I’d examined from Raven turned over and over in my mind’s eye. Particularly, the part of it that lay opposite to Raven herself.
With my target in mind, I took the connection and recreated it. A replica, a pseudo-connection, but instead of leaving Raven as the unwilling recipient, I ‘attached’ it to myself. From there, it was as simple as forcefully triggering it in reverse with a generous application of magical energy.
I gave a waving salute as my form in the Dead End wavered and winked out of existence, “Feel free to sit, request a drink or two, and enjoy the show. See you all on the other side.”
Since a ‘plan’ (as sparse as it was) had been decided upon, I’d barely given the Titans a moment to breathe. Hell, maybe that should be said about this whole thing altogether. I’m sure this part of their night was back-to-back revelations and insanity. That kind of thing tended to happen in the Dead End. They’d get used to it.
None of them got a chance to protest as I reverse-summoned myself away from the bar, disappearing right before their eyes. Damian did get to send me a thankful, respectful nod though. Beast Boy, Cyborg, and Starfire were left still trying to catch up with everything that was happening. And Raven… Well, the unflinchingly intense, deadly piercing, promise-in-a-look that she shot me said it all.
But with that and a few stretching moments in transit, I was gone from my place of power. A sliver of the Dead End stayed with me, the Domain intrinsically tied to my soul. And Didi might as well have come with me. She was my better half. Always. Deathly, watchful, and gentle eyes tracked me as I threw my physical form across the cosmos and a few dimensions in between. It would take much more than a bit of ‘distance’ for her constantly comforting presence to ever leave me.
Wrapped in magic — power flowing through my veins — I appeared just in time to witness a spectacle to end all spectacles. The void welcomed me, absence paradoxically hugging everything. A backdrop of unfamiliar stars decorated the scenery. And before me, a giant held a world in the palms of both hands.
“Oh, holy shit…” Cyborg exhaled a terrifically stunned exclamation.
“Wow! He is the bigness, isn’t he~?” Starfire asked.
The same spell that projected my vision inside the Dead End allowed me to hear them and their reactions to the quite literally monumental event I found myself witnessing. They saw exactly what I did, things like detail and distance made irrelevant before magic. As if they were there in the flesh, even the ever-present silence of the void came through my spell.
Magic carried my words to the other side of my spell as if I wasn’t floating freely in space, “Eh, I’ve seen bigger.”
“Dude, what?!” Beast Boy choked on his shock. “He’s holding a freaking planet in his hands!”
“Hng,” Damian grunted. “Being that big makes for the opposite of a fair fight.”
“And my father is the opposite of fair. It works out,” Derision and disgust could be heard in Raven’s usual monotone.
Trigon the Terrible stood in the void. Even from a few hundred thousand miles away, he was larger than life. His blood-red skin glowed like a quietly dying star. A Red Dwarf given humanoid form. Or perhaps that should be demonic, in this case? Even if Didi said he wasn’t a true demon, he certainly looked the part.
A colossus of pure evil and conquering sin. Malice itself twisted into a face, complete with the cruel expression one would expect from such a thing. Trigon cut a powerful figure. There was no denying that. Not when he held an entire world at his fingertips, playing with it as if it were a ball.
“Uh, Barkeep…?” Cyborg asked. “You sure you can beat that thing?”
I smirked, “Watch me.”
Suddenly, I was given a front-row seat as Trigon lifted the planet to his mouth. His mouth opened wider than it had any right to, like some sort of unhinged snake-jawed monstrosity. Rows and rows of demonic teeth glinted like the stars in the background. A hellish glow lit the back of Trigon’s mouth as he took an impossible BITE of a planet.
I could practically feel the stunned silence from inside the Dead End as the Titans witnessed the death of a planet. As they could only watch as a celestial body was CONSUMED. Trigon even went through the effort of CHEWING, the great clenches of his jaw cracking a world to its core.
“My goodness…” Starfire gasped. “That… The…”
“Damn… I don’t even think you can call it genocide at that point,” Cyborg muttered in horror.
“Planet-cide?” Beast Boy tried and failed to lighten the mood with a joke.
“Evil,” Raven flatly corrected. “Pure evil and calamity.”
“I believe I was right to seek help from Sean,” Damian said quietly, his scowl practically audible. “There is nothing we could have done against something like that…”
“Mmmm~…” Trigon ‘said’. “The molten center is always the best part.”
He didn’t say it verbally. For one, his mouth was still chowing down on an entire planet. For another… well, space. No, instead of physically forming the words, he projected them straight from his mind. A psychic and emotional transmission so overwhelming that I’m sure it was felt in neighboring solar systems.
“That… is terrifying,” Cyborg stated slowly.
“Pardon my swearage, friend Raven, but fuck your father. He is the biggest of the bastards!” Starfire swore adorably.
“Welcome to my world,” Raven drawled.
Chuckling, I ignored the Titans speaking in my mind. Instead, I turned my attention to ‘the bastard of biggest’ in front of me. Matching his method of psychic communication, I ‘cleared my throat’.
“Ahem. Did you enjoy your little snack, Trigon?”
Trigon stopped unnaturally still. He slowly swallowed the rest of his planetary meal and turned, searching for me. I must have been less than a speck to him in his current size but he found me eventually. I just waited patiently for his reply.
“Who are you?” Trigon growled, the psychic sound shaking the cosmos themselves.
“Someone who’s doing your daughter a favor,” I said, not flinching an inch.
Trigon barked a laugh, “Ha! Has the detestable girl finally come to her senses? She should have come herself. Her rightful place is beneath my throne.”
Raven twitched vigorously in the back of my mind and I shook my head, “Not quite. And I don’t think she appreciates you saying that.”
“Why should I care about her pitiful mortal feelings?” Trigon asked honestly.
“Death, you’re awful,” I said, shaking my head in something akin to exasperation now. “Not an ounce of empathy for your daughter. Not an ounce of remorse for what you’ve put her through.”
A grin as wide as an ocean spread across Trigon’s face, “No. I eat such concepts as an evening snack.”
“Yeah, this is a long time coming,” I dismissed him as a lost cause, confirming what I already knew.
Magic poured from my soul, coalescing into a visible aura around me. I pulled that aura into me, coiling it tighter and tighter as a cloak of pure power. Building, striving toward some kind of critical mass of magic. A pseudo-AWAKENING — more a RE-AWAKENING than anything else as I brought a very specific form of magic into this universe. Trigon took my actions as the threat they were.
“I tire of this meaningless conversation,” He growled.
Trigon drew himself up, standing proudly in the nothingness of space. An ember of light, plasma, and power sparked above his head. Between sweeping, multi-pointed horns like the rack of a stag, a mini-star was born. It swelled until it reached the size of the planet Trigon had just CONSUMED. I could feel the heat and heavy destructive might even from so far away.
And yet, I said only a few simple words, “As do I. Null.”
Causality choked. Space-time stuttered. Reality REJECTED. The condensed ball of Trigon’s power went out as if a switch had been flipped. Rewritten as if it was never there. My ‘Null’ — pure anti-magic — didn’t so much wash over Trigon. It simply WAS. And then Trigon’s power WASN’T as my will was enforced strictly upon the very fabric of the universe.
Trigon was suddenly strangled by nothingness. And then my fun really started. Harkening back to my Wizard’s War days (which definitely DIDN’T make me twitch with well-repressed trauma), I started slow…
“The Ten Hells.” A classic.
Trigon froze. He burned. He drowned. All at once. His skin turned inside out, exposing raw nerves to the vacuum of space. Ten thousand lightning bolts lit up his bones from the inside out. A million more razors carved scars on his inverted skin. The deep-seated aches of the old and ancient invaded his every joint.
What passed for his bones exploded into shrapnel and pure pain. The magic and power that made up his physical form rebelled, flesh and blood bubbling and boiling. An endless nightmare played out in Trigon’s mind, and since he was who he was, the nightmare was the bane of all evils: wholesome slice-of-life content.
Trigon barely got a chance to process his Ten Hells before I was casting more specific spells — CONCEPTUALLY more intense because of their specificity.
“Power Word: S C R U N C H.”
“Summon.”
“Crippling Depression.”
“Kidney Stones.”
“Testicular Torsion.”
I had long since AWAKENED to a spark of the TRUTH to reality. It now burned like a raging forest fire in my soul. With every spell, my will — my overwhelmingly solid BELIEF in myself and my magic — was enforced. Reality yielded before me like putty and clay. MAGIC beyond mere magic. The universe leaped to do my bidding like an eager puppy. My only desire then and there was to cause Raven’s father as much pain as I possibly could. Which turned out to be quite a lot.
S C R U N C H did exactly what it said it did. It scrunched. There was no need to elaborate on the damage it caused as Trigon’s colossal form was SCRUNCHED down to roughly mortal size. Summon brought his newly resized body before me so my distant audience could still get a good view of what came next.
Clinical Depression for a being like Trigon didn’t make him ‘sad’ as one might expect. No, instead, a wide, tortured smile spread across his colossal face. So wide it looked like it hurt and so unnatural that he looked like a demon in Heaven. It made for a properly spooky scene with the effect of Ten Hells still ongoing.
Kidney Stones and Testicular Torsion made him double over in agony and scream a silent, futile scream into the void. Whatever Trigon’s ‘demonic’ body considered kidneys were shredded to bits and pieces by what was basically shrapnel from the inside out. Even worse than the Kidney Stones was the infamous Testicular Torsion cast. With my MAGIC beyond magic, Trigon’s balls were twisted straight off his body.
The pain from those last two spells wasn’t just excruciating. It was conceptually torturous — heinous ‘spells’ (read: methods of enacting my WILL upon reality) that were designed to do nothing more than cause pain.
It was almost enough for me to feel sorry for the dead-beat bastard. Almost. And not sorry enough to stop or give him another chance. Evil wasn’t just his nature, it was his CHOICE. He would never change. And he would have done exactly this to me without feeling any of the empathy or pity I was currently feeling.
But at least, I could finish putting him out of his agony quickly, “I cast FIST.”
It was more than he deserved. A punch backed by the force of reality itself lashed out at Trigon’s tortured form. No fancy magical effects. Just FIST. The fabric of space screamed as it was obliterated, pushed aside before one of the most basic forms of harm a human body could deal. But basic didn’t mean simple, in this case. Nor did it mean powerless. Something Trigon didn’t even get the chance to find out.
FIST struck flesh. The whole universe concentrated down on one singular point of time and space. The very concept of Trigon resisted the blow, desperately struggling to continue existing… and was immediately punched into submission. Struck so badly that it simply gave up and ceased to be. With a forceful FIST felt across dimensions, Trigon the Terrible died… in one punch.
I exhaled a steady breath into the void of space, letting my AWAKENED MAGIC settle back into the underlying fabric of my soul where it usually lay. It’d been a while since I had to break out THAT type of magic… It was like stepping into a favorite, sturdy, and, well-worn pair of boots. Not for casual everyday use but consistently reliable and always a subtle pleasure to return to.
I’d have to tell the story of that AWAKENING at some point. Especially since the Dead End side of my ‘projection’ spell was now being suspiciously quiet. They’d probably want to know ‘what the fuck!’ that was. Heh, honestly that sounded like a lot of fun. Magic in the World of Darkness was a special sort of beast.
“Ah, shit,” I absently muttered to myself. “Didi wanted to play with his weird, evil, ‘not-soul’ thing. Bit hard to do that after I punched it into oblivion…”
Comments
StarSmith
When I first found this book, it reminded me of one of my old DND characters where after a five-year campaign, my level 20 wizard retired and made a magic pub in the drinks would give weird magical effects
StarSmith
Oh my god those spells
