Nico di Angelo had been in the process of shadow traveling to the Underworld to meet his father, Hades, the Rich One, when he had felt a tug pulling him backwards. He fought it but the tugging only became much more persistent but he simply shrugged it off, used to deranged spirits trying to grab hold of him and use him as a way to get out.
This occurred and continued for about thirty seconds, and –
He choked silently as a much more powerful source grabbed hold of him and pulled.
The son of Hades eyes had widen, 'Father!'
Normally, Klarion would have been disinterested in these no name wannabe's attempt of summoning a deity of the dead – of death – had it not been at the fact there was an insane amount of magic just oozing out of the triangle-circle thing they had going on there though he wasn't sure why there was Greek writing surrounding and within the symbol. Why Greek, out of all things? Those pantheons either faded or went into hiding eons ago.
However, it soon became apparent that whatever they had actually managed to connect with is fighting their pathetic tugging of bringing them into this plane and winning; with ease even. Not that Klarion can really doubt that, seeing as they really are just amateurs with the magic their playing with – what's that noise? It almost sounds like–
Klarion's eyes widen then shrunk into little red beads and dark scowl overtook his bored expression. "Impossible; there are no such things in this Dimension, I checked!" the Witch Boy snarls at the idiotic fools at each point of the triangle, trying to found out who could possible be the one for the being their summoning. Unfortunately for him, he didn't count the one person that's nowhere near the idiots with magic that barely leveled with Zatara's brat, Baby Magic (and that's bad.)
The Lord of Chaos felt something within begin to resonate with the sounds that are eerily like a heartbeat.
Realization struck him as he swore.
The heartbeats slowed, and everything that made Klarion who he is reacted – MINEMINEMINEMINE – and pulled.
Chaos erupted amongst the infants when a lithe body flew backwards out of a black wisp of smoke that appeared the second the Witch Boy took reign of the magic those buffoons were using. A large, deathly pale hand emerged from the black wisps and reached for the body that was still in the air, and once more without his permission, he felt himself respond.
"ՅՐՌɿԳ Եɧȝ ՅԾՎ ԵԾ ʍȝ!"
The chaotic magic of Klarion replied by whipping the hand away and placing the boy within the Lord of Chaos's arms. The hand had disappeared once Klarion's magic smacked it in a show of ash and smoke. The Witch Boy swore once more when he realized what he had done. This is exactly why he didn't want any damned Ones around – they ALWAYS mess with things, ESPECIALLY chaos! Always, always, always!
Huffing, Klarion glances around before snorting, "Better leave before those damn goodie two-shoes show up," he muttered and summoned the way home and jumped into it without a second thought or glance.
The boy within his arms whimpered, causing the personified of Chaos itself to look down and take a better look at the one that now, and forever will be, belongs to him.
Oh.
Well, then.
