The would-be battlefield, that was the street in front of the Hall of Justice, was frozen. Crickets almost chirped and that wind of dramatic silence ruffled through the locks of Light Elves, magicians, aliens and the likes. For five seconds the weighty pause held only the sound of helicopters whirring and tanks grinding to a halt.
Then the Elvish Lord, the Ringmaster, Aaroniv Aleifath, raised a withered, weary hand. A warm, golden glow encased it before he returned his arm humbly to his side. Recognising the signal, the hundreds behind him obeyed the order, summoning portals and utilising magical transportation devices, deserting the not-battle. The other two Ringmasters, the Elf and the Mage, made no opposition as groups disappeared through luminous vortexes and in single, blinding beams.
There would be no conflict between the two forces today- for that, Raven was thankful: she'd felt the Dark ones stirring in the alleyways and around corners. Such a mass of Light creatures was an enormous threat, of herself and Damian hadn't passed on the message to their contacts regarding the Light, there would surely have been a bloodbath: that message being, 'Pride, Wrath and the Al-Ghul are dealing with the Council, don't interfere or they'll deal with you', to paraphrase; it certainly struck dread in the hearts of those drowning those lust in Elvish wine at the Blue Dragon.
Speaking of which, whilst the Justice League (and handful of Titans...and Adyn) and three Council Ringmasters dealt with the ego of one Amanda Waller, their were others immersed in their own circumstances.
Cassandra, for one, was working her way through the notes collected by Batman about Alexander Fletcher Sumpter (the face-shifter and suspect in her own case) and figuring out where he stood. She'd been approached a few weeks back about a case of a stolen object. Damian and Cassandra had uncovered its true origin- a magical artefact- and had traced all leads to this face-shifter. It just so happened that Bruce had gotten to him first on a different case, one also to do with magic- the Orphan hadn't even known that he possessed any magical abilities until she read through Bruce's notes. A perplexity indeed.
All else was relatively quiet in the Manor (not that Cass made much noise at all): Jaime was video calling his family in his room; Donna was texting a new friend of hers from school- apparently there was a house party later that week-; Koriand'r was eating ice cream with pickles and jam; and Selina and Harleen were sharing stories with Belladonna about her mother's adventures.
"Ooh- ooh! And there was this one time when ya mutha was so mad she tried to kill ya fatha, but then one thing led to anotha and BAM you happened!", Harley enthused, falling back on to the bed with a sigh. "Ah, how romantic!"
The little girl giggled, playing with Selina's hair, "You're funny Aunty H!"
Harleen propped herself up on her bed with on elbow, winking, "Ain't that the truth pumpkin!"
Selina, perched on the bed with Bella in her lap, gasped, "And I'm not funny too?", she turned the girl around to face her. "I'm so sad now, you like Aunty H more than me.", Selina pretended to cry, holding back laughter when Bella pulled her hands away from her face and gave Selina a hug.
"There, there,", Bella imitated the grown-ups she'd seen on TV, "it's okay, I love you both, don't be sad.", her grass-green eyes sparkled, "I can draw you a pretty picture, Raven says my drawing are good- do you want to see?!", the little girl hopped up, flicking her heels as she ran out of her 'Aunty H's' room to retrieve her drawings, her dark curls flying in the process.
Meanwhile, miles away, beyond the greedy streets of Gotham's commercial areas, lay the darkest recesses of the city- crawling with the Dark and dangerous. Between neon nightclubs, burlesque bars and crimson casinos lay many buildings ranging from ramshackle to filthy rich. Within one such building, two people lay on a modest sofa together.
The apartment's furnishings were by no means extravagant, and the adjoining rooms as a whole lacked homeliness and warmth- not that the owner wanted any of it. Her true home was out of this realm, beneath the iridescent waves of her realm's waters in a house of the ocean-Mother's making. Yet she'd found something of a home in the community of Dark that existed here and took her in when she'd fled the binding- a ceremony which bound together two souls for eternity- and found herself alone in this cold realm, ostracised and alone. The Blue Dragon had given her work, and here she was, years later, relaxing in the arms of a dangerous man and falling from lust.
His fingers subconsciously rubbed the bluish flesh of her arm and a shudder ran shown her spine. One arm wrapped around her, he felt the shiver and held back a smirk, continuing to rub her upper arm. She shot him a mildly irritated look out of the corner of her eye and he chuckled.
"Seriously Jason?", she said in an airy voice, still not pulling away.
"What? I'm not doing anything!"
The liar. He knew exactly what he was doing. What more could be expected of either of them? This strange, symbiotic, sexual relationship began with a moment of pure lust in the Blue Dragon's toilets. The ocean-Mother knew what they were now.
Sighing, Zeela looked at Jason, her wide eyes curious as she asked, "What did you want to see me for? Usually it's because you're feeling a little horny", he snorted, "but not now, so what is it?"
Jason sat up straighter, his arm still around the woman and drawing her closer. He lifted her chin with his other hand, "Is it not enough that I just want to see you Zeezee?", he murmured, using the name that warmed her heart immeasurably. Jason was being odd. Their past times together had been frantic clothes-tearing, sweaty moments of unbridled lust followed by mellow talk, never had Jason entered her flat and sat so serenely with her. Concern raised in Zeela's mind.
"There is something the matter and you are in a queer mood- talk to me. I'm all ears.", she wiggled her pointed eyes for emphasis, snuggling deeper in to his warm embrace. As she did so, the pyjama dress that she wore hiked up above mid-thigh, giving Jason's eyes another place to travel to. Spotting his drifting attention, Zeela chided, "There's plenary of time for that later, we're doing something else right now."
Admitting defeat, Jason succumbed to the questioning, entrancing ocean eyes of the Dark creature, releasing pent up emotion. It was an abstract process for him- strange and confusing- and nothing like the ways he usually let his feelings fly free: sex, alcohol, cigarettes and splattering criminal brains and blood on to walls. He didn't know where to begin or where to finish- perhaps 'I popped out cover in blood and crying the building down' to 'and then I died. KABOOM!' to 'and then I was sadly alive again- but not bloody and crying'. If Dick or Bruce could hear half of the things he was blurting out, they'd certainly be overwhelmed with emotion. Then Tim would say something classically dumb like 'stay whelmed dude' and Stephanie would roll her eyes at him. The little shit would give a smartass remark, Cass would chuckle in that quite, powerful way of hers. Alfred would most likely consider retirement.
What a family, eh?
At that moment, droning on about the times he wanted to kill Bruce, recognition dawned upon Jason so hard he might have been hit with a sledgehammer. He missed them. Gosh, he was homesick. Where were Alfred's cookies when he needed them?! That fucked up, too-large, shitty family of his, what was he doing with his life? Heck, where had Duke and Helena gone?- probably on some mission thing or on the brink of death or something, knowing them.
Jason looked down, eyebrows drawn forwards as he noticed the pale green glow emanating from Zeela's hand- which grasped his. A sad smile rested on her face as she lay the other hand on his chest, staring deep in to his eyes as if they were the ocean depths of her homeland. "You had so much troubling your heart, I could feel it.", he hand against his chest warmed his soul. "That builds up over time and becomes something ugly, Jason. Don't let it build up,", she frowned, "please."
Jason had never been one for great affection (his version of affection was punching Damian in the face so that he 'learns not to be a bitch because life is bitchier than you ever could be') and yet, here he found himself, pressing his lips tenderly to her forehead and letting them linger for a moment. "You care far too much for your own good.", he smiled. "Watch yourself, I might just keep you forever."
She looked up at him though her lashes, "Somehow, I don't believe that would be a terrible thing."
***
Four shrunken digits drummed the table worst the fifth remained in place, tapping a beat of expectancy. The term 'shrunken' is used here, for the size of Ms Waller's fingers had decreased significantly since the last time Batman had seen here (see the DCAMU movie Suicide Squad:Hell to pay if you're confused, it might come in useful with something story lines and later references). Her presence was no less authoritative, however, given the exceedingly powerful presences in the room with her, the only things remotely of consequence on her part were her weapons.
It would be a waste of effort to draw more chairs to the Justice League's meeting table- some of the spaces were left vacant of sheer respect and the awkwardness of it all. The Martian Manhunter had joined the assembled party (Hawkman and Aquaman were tied up in other affairs below the water and off-world) as well as the Titans: they'd received the League's call to fight, but the battle had never begun. Nevertheless, the matter about to be discussed was a grave one- one between the defenders of Earth, preternaturals, and a representative of Earth's most destructive forces.
"What is it that you seek of us?", one of the two Elvish ringmasters- the female- said, her sonorous voice holding the same texture as her hair: it hung, framing her face and pooling in her fallen hood like molten silver, a celestial contrast to the blood red of her robes. The addressee of this question sat firmly in her seat, glaring daggers at the three red-robed ones standing at the front of the meeting table.
Behind Amanda's chair, flanking her on both sides, were men decked in the severely pressed uniform of military commanders, their expressions were as severe as hers though half as formidable. Amanda replied to the Elf's question by projecting to the entire room, "I've been given the go-ahead by this government to take any action necessary to ensure that there is not threat made to humans in this United States and the globe. I want your cooperation or complete surrender,", her keen eyes dared to meet those of the Ringmasters, "that'll be your choice."
Aleifath knitted his fingers, holding the patience of a true saint as he replied on the Council's behalf, "What position are you in to make such demands? The Council has done no wrong by you."
"And since when has the government put such faith in you, Amanda?", Batman all but growled.
The woman smiled a wicked smile.
"Since they found out that magic is real and a threat that needs to be exterminated."
A.N:
Hope you enjoyed that my darlings! There's a bit of a question mark around Jason and what's going to happen next, so stay tuned!
-thanks
-Bats :)