A violet glow encased the door handle, turning it to open the door, allowing Raven entrance. Hands full -holding bags that she hadn't wanted to waste magical energy on levitating- she entered her room, kicking the door shut with her heel.
Sighing, the demoness chucked the bags in to her bed, assured that the priceless contents within wouldn't be too damaged. Those priceless contents, of course, being her outfit for the Christmas Eve 'party' (all too formal to be called a party, nonetheless, that was its title) including a dress, shoes, clutch, jewellery, beauty products and underwear: half of which she wouldn't have bought, had Stephanie and Kori not forced her too.
Shivering at the memory of the agonising hour they'd spent in the lingerie shop, Raven's fingers turned the lock to her door, a solid click sounding in the quiet. Sunlight streaming in through the thankfully closed window, despite the biting temperature outside, Raven's feet pattered against the floor as she walked from the door to the cupboard then the bathroom, clutching an awfully soft towel.
Opening the door, Raven slipped out of her clothes, suppressing a shiver at the wave of cold that made her hair stand on end, laying them in a neat pile and placing her towel atop, folded as immaculately as the state of her room- very. Ignoring her reflection in the far-too-large mirror, Raven's feet left the tiles, meeting the shower's floor.
Fingers finding the screen she pressed a single button, snorting at the technology. Of course Wayne manor would be fitted with custom showers, enabling you to set the temperature and velocity of the water- as well as being able to play music and set a timer.
How convenient. She snorted, ice-like water cascading from the shower head.
*
Exhaling, Raven pulled one of a plethora of jumpers -all recently purchased- over her head: the declining temperatures had called for such measures, as well as an increase in thick, fluffy socks. Winter was proving to be a lot more 'wintery' in Gotham than in Jump City.
In all likelihood, the clouds would give in and join once more to unleash a blizzard upon the city.
Relief filled Raven at the thought of the numerous protective runes on her 'hero uniform', it would mean no colds caught whilst on patrol or any other 'titans business'.
Casting an eye to the bags besides her in the bed, all sporting designer labels much to her chagrin, Raven winced, remembering the pricing for each item. Far, far too high for her to be comfortable with.
Still, the dress was truly beautiful, so perhaps she could live with herself.
***
"You're going to do what?", Superman folded his arms, curious, not angry.
"Protection runes.", Raven answered. "John and Zatanna should be here any moment."
In the Hall of Justice's entrance, the three demonic residents of Wayne Manor and many core Justice League members stood: Damian, Raven and Adyn having proposed an idea to them.
"Constantine and Zatanna? That's what you needed to contact them about?", Batman's arms were folded too, however, his demeanour was entirely separate to Superman's- who stood to his left.
Raven nodded, lifting her hood back from her face, "We had to weigh up options."
Wonder Woman too crossed her arms (what was it with the Justice League and folding their arms?), "We?"
Damian stepped in, dressed in his Robin uniform, as usual, bright white lights shining on his eyes giving them an even more otherworldly glow than usual, "Raven and I.", Cyborg raised his lone eyebrow, growing exceedingly intrigued.
Damian expanded, "After the incident with the Titans tower, placing magical wards upon other bases appeared a reasonable suggestion. After all, the attack was heavily aided by magic to allow the projectiles through the Tower barriers without detection before they struck."
"Even with the protective measures we have in place?"
Adyn nodded in answer to Vic's question, "Yes. There is no way your defences could hope to withstand the force of an Earth weapon infused with magical energy, or any preternatural weaponry for that matter.", he shook his head. "No, no. This building wouldn't survive any attack of that kind."
In a semi-circle by the entrance with the other Leaguers, Batman listened as his son, Raven and the demon laid out the situation, briefly covering the effects of these 'wards' and the process in creating them.
By the time Adyn, with his pinkish curls bouncing, had concluded his part, the Justice League found no issue with the case. All members present (Batman, Wonderwoman, Cyborg, The Flash, Superman and Green Lantern) gave unanimous consent for the three -plus Zatanna and Constantine, when they decided to show up- to do as they pleaded regarding wards.
***
Through a vortex of amber rimmed with age-old runes, Constantine sauntered, closely followed by Zatanna- who clutched rather odd looking sticks in her hand. They contained the same working patterns of wood, and appeared to be made of the stuff, however, were ramrod straight, like staffs, and a few inches taller than the female magician. Strangely enough, the bottom quarter was entirely white, as though someone had stuck a wad of chalk there- which wouldn't be incorrect.
"Finally, you're here.", Raven sighed, pushing a strand of hair in to her hood, "You have the rods?",
Squinting against the near-sunset light, John grinned, "That we do, love, that we do."
Huffing, Zatanna shoved the rods in to his arms, nearly catching the blonde Liverpudlian off balance.
Under her breath, the black-haired magician muttered, "You mean 'I' do. Ass."
"Oi, oi! I had to-"
Damian interjected, "Tt. We'll be proceeding now."
In the 'courtyard' of the Hall of Justice, the five of them spaced themselves accordingly, each clutching a white-tipped staff. The declining sun casting their shadows upon the slate-grey ground, the three demons and two magicians assumed a pentagonal formation, each one roughly three meters away from the two closest.
Pulling off his light, lengthy coat, Constantine called, "Not one line can be out of place, remember.", he shifted the wooden rod to his right hand, the height of it reaching past his head. "Timing is irrelevant, so go at your own speed, but be precise."
As an afterthought, he commented, "But don't take all day, right, cause I want an early night."
Zatanna scoffed, "You? An early night?"
The blonde gave her a look as though to say, 'Really. Are you taking the piss?"
Rolling his eyes at the magicians, Damian shared an exasperated glance with his kind-of-friend, Raven.
"If you two are quite finished...", Raven redirected.
Once more in task, John gave them leave to begin, himself and Zatanna immediately beginning to draw the first rune of the pattern on the ground: a circle, roughly a meter in diameter. However, both looked up as Robin, Raven and Adyn hadn't moved a muscle.
A crease finding its way to her brow, Zatanna tipped her hat up, "Why aren't you guys starting?"
The three stared at one another before Adyn answered for them.
"The manner in which we were taught to draw large protective runes of this kind is...", he searched for right phrasing, " not the same."
"How so?", Constantine said, folding up a shirtsleeve with the rod tucked in to his side and held in place by his elbow.
"Just watch."
And with Damian's vague answer, the three of them stepped forwards, actions startlingly done as a unit. Holding the staff as if it were a line of symmetry splitting them in half, Damian, Raven and Adyn lunged forwards.
***
Raven's feet met the floor for the barest hint of a moment, before she used the rod as leverage, striking out with a jumping-side kick as one hand remained grasping the rod. Ignoring the hair obscuring her vision, Raven allowed her muscles to move as they should, trusting that the process was fully imprinted in to her mind.
Pulling the staff over her head, Raven landed in a crouch, grasping it with her right arm. In jarring synchronisation, herself and the other two, shot the top of the rod to the side, dragging the chalk-like ending along the floor to form a thick, white curve.
Continuing the sequence, the demoness shut her eyes, counting to one...two...three before she let the wooden stick twirl through the air like a baton, flipping backwards to catch it in the centre. With all the force she could muster, Raven drove the pale end in to the ground, as if she were trying to drive it down to the Earth's core- but it didn't break.
Instead, it left a white mark on the floor, one which she expanded, spinning the staff across the floor accordingly, adding to the pattern.
After many kicks and turns of the rod, the basic first rune was completed: a cone bordered by two lines reaching out like vines, almost appearing to move if one looked too closely.
Not sparing a moment to see if Damian and Adyn were at the same stage -she knew they were- Raven begun the second rune of the protective ward: which, when activated, would stand as an invulnerable force field against preternatural beings with the intent of harming the building or its occupants, or any weaponry with preternatural links.
Gliding the wood against the floor, Raven made the first soft stroke, exhaling with the same lightness.
***
Superman's P.O.V:
They were mesmerising to watch, all three of them moving in unison, twirling across the courtyard, drawing lines as they went. Some thick, some light, each stroke seemed to hold so much weight, so much gravity.
Besides me, Bruce, Diana, Vic, Hal and Barry lingered, staring out of the conference room's wall-size window, observing the three of them dance across the concrete. All of us truly impressed by the display- even Diana appeared equal parts pleased and intrigued by their...sequence?
What was that?
Probably, remembering their backgrounds, this was a method of drawing...uh...runes...and practising physical combat. That did seem likely.
Ears registering the magician -Zatanna- down with them sighing, I turned my attention to her and John Constantine. They hadn't moved since Damian, Raven and the demon- Adyn- had begun, equally as interested. Which made sense, considering they were more 'magical' than 'physical' when fighting.
Still, they seemed a lot less puzzled by it: John Constantine and Zatanna had most likely heard of this 'technique' before (if it even was a technique).
Then again, I was just speculating: a journalist's instinct, to find a plausible answer for any given situation. Ma always said I was too inquisitive for a child, no wonder I worked at the Daily Planet.
A trait Jon seemed to have inherited- perhaps from his mother though, Lois was just as bad as I was when it came to curiosity- if Kori and Dick's updates were anything to go by, and from what I'd seen from our weekend back down south.
By God, my boy was growing too fast for me too keep up with. Just like Damian. Both of them were so tall now, they'd no doubt grow to rival both Bruce and myself in height.
Smiling lightly I regarded Bruce's boy as he struck the air, spinning about that odd staff-thing.
That one was something special alright, I wondered if Bruce realised that.
***End P.O.V***
***
Damian held the last stance for a total count of five seconds, as was drilled in to his head countless times throughout his ten years in the League of Assassins. Almost in a lunge, the chalk-ended rod resting against the floor, held secure by both of his hands.
Panting, the Boy Wonder finally stood straight, casting the staff to one hand, eyes glinting a startling green, with both pride and exertion.
Before him, lay a collection of chalk instruments, each one joining to the other in the creation of a glorious orchestra- a protection rune. Of course, this was no mere, basic pattern with the standard shielding effects, oh no, this was one of the highest calibrate, perfected only after intense study and through raw talent.
No rune-caster could simply 'draw the lines' and be done with the matter; an unfathomable amount of concentration was required to infuse each line with the correct force of magic: too much energy channeled through from the rune-caster, and the entire rune would be at an imbalance, an insufficient amount of energy, and an imbalance also would occur.
Naturally, Damian had perfected magical balances by the age of five- the gods knew his instructors would have suffered him if that wasn't the case- amongst the demonic society within the League, magical training (if one possessed it, which many did) was regarded as a source of pride, and a necessity for Damian, as the direct descendant of the last Al Ghul King of Hell.
In satisfaction, Damian sneered as he looked upon his work.
Oh, if those rune-masters could see my work now...tt. They can't though, can they?
The sneer faded to a light smirk.
After suffering under the rule of his rune-masters, Damian, six at the time, had taken it upon himself to ensure the prompt decapitation of the two men who sought to instruct as much as torture him. A ridiculous notion, considering there was an entirely separate instruction for tortu- ehem - "endurance training" (as they chose to name it).
Nonetheless, Damian's pride was not in the slightest ebbed, perhaps due to the very sin herself standing nearby.
Perhaps.
A.N:
Hello my darlingssssss!
Another chapter up and another reason for me to feel a little happier about life.
Now, I don't find that there's much else to say...besides that WE'VE PASSED 20K VIEWS!!!
*INHUMAN SCREECHING*
Thank you so so so much! When I checked Wattpad on the morning that we hit 20k, I full on choked on my tea with happiness- despite having seen the 19.9k views displayed before.
This story has gotten so much support (even though the main plot has barely begun) and I can't express my gratitude enough.
Thank you again :3
-Bats