Disclaimer: I don't own any of the members of the Coven, nor do I own the Coven's allies, or the various members of the Gathering
Feedback: I'd appreciate that, trust me
The Gathering of Supernatural Psychopaths
Leo could only be grateful that inter-dimensional travel wasn't as difficult as it normally was up in the pocket dimension that served as the Coven's 'base'; travel to Constantine's home reality was still difficult, true, but at least it wasn't impossible.
Arriving on a street outside a dingy-looking building, Constantine smiled up at the structure in front of him, and then glanced over at Leo.
"Right on target, buddy," he said, nodding in approval.
"Thanks…" Leo said dismissively, as he glanced back at Constantine. "Once and for all, you're sure this guy can help us? I mean, we are a little out of his usual range…"
Constantine shook his head.
"Nah; he'll have what we need," he assured his friends. "We've been aware of alternate dimensions for years in magic circles; hell, I've even visited a few myself once or twice. We keep up-to-date with anything big that may affect our own world, and nobody's better at being accurate with information than Midnite."
Illyria and Leo couldn't argue with that. After all, if this team of Clown's was successful, it would most likely start to spread; from what they'd heard of Clown and his superiors, the guy didn't sound like he'd be prepared to settle for just one reality going down…
As the three of them walked down the stairs that led towards the club where Constantine's informant lived and worked, Constantine was explaining the rules of entry to his companions.
"Basic test of psychic abilities," he explained, as they rounded another corner. "The bouncer holds a card up in front of you, facing away, and you have to guess what it is; you don't get it right, you can't get in. Oh, and you can't be sure he's got the same card that he had before even if you haven't seen him change it; he's tricky."
"Seems fair enough," Leo said, nodding in understanding at Constantine. "And you're sure Illyria and I can get in?"
Constantine nodded. "Yeah; you're like most of the others here," he explained as they reached the bouncer. "You can pull off a few basic mind-reading tricks, but it's never enough to count as a major power. Two frogs on a bench," he said to the man in front of them, who nodded, removed the velvet rope, and waved Constantine past him as Illyria took front stage.
"An elephant doing ballet?" Illyria asked, briefly sounding to Leo like a timid teenage girl rather than the former ruler of a demonic kingdom. When the bouncer nodded at her in approval, Illyria smiled slightly in relief as she entered the club, leaving only Leo to get through the card trick. Swallowing nervously, he tried to clear his mind and stared in front of him, looking at the card with a slight degree of apprehension, trying to stop seeing through his eyes and start to see through the eyes of the bouncer…
"Um… wait a minute… three ducks standing on a cloud?" Leo asked uncertainly. Flicking the card over, the bouncer revealed that image to Leo before waving him in.
Inside the club, Leo was briefly overawed at the sheer size of the club, filled with far more people at a first glance than the mortal nightclub above it, and yet somehow seeming to be both the same size and larger than the building in question. Each individual was different from the last… a gorgon was drinking with an angel, a man with a long forked tail was sipping wine with what looked like a female Ano-Movic demon, generally a peaceful race to his recollection (Baring their habit of eating the ex's brains when marrying someone who'd been divorced)…
"What is this place?" Leo hissed at Constantine, as the three of them walked boldly through the club.
"Neutral ground," Constantine replied, as Illyria glared at an advancing man who looked slightly like a succubus to Leo, prompting him to back off. "Midnite- the owner- set this place up as a means of helping to preserve the balance that exists at the moment for my bunch of demons and angels. Nobody can hurt anybody else here; it's against the rules."
"Impressive…" Illyria muttered to herself, as a tall man who appeared relatively human walked past their little group, his arms around two women whose appearances seemed to be changing slightly even as Illyria watched them. Evidently succubi, she decided; they had that inconsistent appearance that she recognised from a couple of previous meetings.
Jerking his head towards a nearby door, Constantine led Leo and Illyria through the door into an elaborate office, the main feature in it being an elegant wooden desk with various elaborate instruments on it. Behind this desk sat a man in a dark brown coat, a hat in a lighter shade of brown, and a black shirt with some kind of elaborate white-and-red pattern on it that somehow went rather well with the rest of the outfit, even though every law of fashion and sense seemed to insist that it shouldn't. Looking up as the three Coven members entered, the man- who Illyria could only assume was the Papa Midnite that they were there to see- merely raised a critical eyebrow as Constantine walked towards the table, Leo and Illyria standing on either side of him like the old childhood images of angels and demons advising the character.
"John Constantine," Midnite said simply, as he looked at the detective/exorcist standing in front of him, looking at the bar owner with an elaborately casual expression on his face. "And these would be two of the other members of the 'Coven of Reformed Supernaturals' I have heard so much about?"
"Yep; Leo Wyatt, Whitelighter and ex-WW2 medic, and Illyria, former God-King and ruler of the L.A. area," Constantine explained, indicating the relevant people as he looked back at Midnite. "Anyway, since you know about them you can guess why we're here, huh?"
Midnite nodded ruefully as he looked back at his friend. "I can guess," he said simply, as he stared at the exorcist. "You did inform them that I am neutral in these matters?"
"It's just information… uh, Mr Midnite," Leo said, uncertain how he should address this man. "Is giving us that really violating your neutral stance? I mean, I could understand you not letting John use some of the stuff in your… collection, but surely just giving us information can't be violating your law of neutrality? After all, the items in your collection are, from what we gather… unique, to say the least… but information? We could have found that anywhere."
"C'mon, Midnite; just a few bits of info about these guys?" Constantine asked, raising an eyebrow. "Besides, if you think about it, giving us data on these guys would be keeping the balance."
"The detective has a point," Illyria added, nodding slightly at Constantine before turning to face Midnite. "After all, the Gathering of Supernatural Psychopaths are all aware of who we are, after our defeat of the would-be ruler of the Underworld in our universe, but we do not know who they are. Would it not help to keep this 'balance' you seek to maintain if we knew just as much about who we are fighting?"
Midnite nodded thoughtfully as he looked at the former demon lord, and then sighed, reached into his desk, and pulled out a file that was in the drawer.
"You're just lucky I collect information on anyone who may have an impact on the Balance," he said, as he passed the folder to Constantine, who took it with a brief smile at his old friend before tucking the file under his coat.
"You're sure nobody'll know it's yours?" he asked, looking at the barman inquiringly.
Midnite shook his head. "The information is generic; anyone could have put it together. I keep spares in my desk, so there is no reason for anyone to suspect that I have given anything away to you and your associates, and I do not doubt that only your fellow Coven members know you are here?"
Constantine nodded.
"Good," Midnite replied, as he indicated the door. "Now, you should go; I do not wish to give anyone the idea that I have given you additional information."
"What information?" Leo asked, smiling brightly as he and the others walked out of Midnite's office, the file hidden under Constantine's jacket as they headed for the stairs.
A few minutes later, the three members of the Coven were back in their pocket dimension with their friends, the file on a table in front of them as Constantine took a position at the head of the table.
"It ain't a pretty group," he said grimly, as he threw the first sheet of papers, held together by a paperclip and with a photograph of Clown on the front cover. "This Clown guy, we already know the basics about him, and the extras aren't that interesting; he's been a servant of this 'Malebolgia' guy in Spawn's dimension for several hundred years, but after mucking up their attempts to recruit Spawn, the Malebolgia's given Clowny a last chance to redeem himself by leading this 'Gathering' against us."
"Any particular reason why they want us dead?" Angel asked, looking at Constantine inquiringly.
The supernatural private eye, however, could only shrug noncommittedly. "Just because we're their opposites, I guess; probably want to take us out before they have to deal with us later on in their mass murder sprees."
Getting back to the matter at hand, Constantine pulled out Drusilla's collection of papers, glanced at it for a few moments, and then shrugged and tossed it onto the pile as well. "Drusilla, Angel and Spike have probably told you about already; she had visions of the future, was driven mad by Angel's vampire self before she was turned, hung around with Spike for a hundred and fifty years before chucking him for a Chaos demon, and now she's back because she apparently wants revenge on Spike and Angel for leaving her."
"Eh?" Hellboy said, looking at Constantine in surprise. "I thought she left Spike?"
Constantine shrugged. "She's nuts; what did you expect?" he asked dismissively, as he pulled out the papers on Chucky, glanced it over, and shrugged casually as it joined its fellows on the table. "Again, we already know about this guy; serial killer who got his soul stuck in a doll by accident, tried to get it out for a while after that, but just gave up after he got cut to pieces for something like the third time and decided to just kill people as he was. After all, who'd suspect the doll, right?"
"What about that 'Creeper' thing?" Spawn asked, looking anxiously at Constantine. "What have we got on it?"
"Not much," Constantine shrugged as he pulled out the papers in question and placed it on the table as well. "Its origins are unknown; all that we've got is that it spends about twenty-three years asleep at a time, and then wakes up at the end of that cycle for exactly twenty-three days, during which time it finds people and tears out their organs to sustain itself. Seems like the Gathering had to break its cycle to get this thing as a member, but I can't find anything about how they woke the bastard up, so we've got no way of sending it back other than finding some way of killing the bloody thing."
"And that isn't easy, huh?" Blade asked, raising an eyebrow.
Shaking his head, Constantine pulled out another sheet of papers and, after staring at the photograph on the cover for a few moments, put it down on the table with the rest. The photograph showed a tall man dressed in dirty brown clothes and a dirty, battered hockey mask, carrying a long, bloodstained machete in one hand.
"Jason Voorhees, the Crystal Lake Slasher," Constantine explained, as the Coven looked at the photograph as Constantine spoke. "Born with severe facial disfigurement and a mental disability, he was constantly teased as a kid until he nearly drowned while staying at Camp Crystal Lake when he was ten. His mother- the only person who ever treated him as a person- went mad and killed a whole bunch of people for revenge before she was decapitated, but Jason- who'd apparently been hiding in the woods since he dragged himself out of the lake- saw it happen. Jason returned to the world, stole those clothes and the mask in the picture, and began murdering people right, left and centre. Some guys have stopped him in the past by drowning him or stabbing him or something like that, but he always seems to come back; his ability to recover from injuries is incredible, even if nobody can identify how it happens."
"Yikes," Hellboy muttered to himself, as he stared at the photo. "This fight won't be pretty…"
"You think he's ugly?" Constantine asked, as he pulled out another bunch of papers. "Try this guy; Freddy Krueger, the Springwood Slasher."
Looking at the photo on top of the papers, the majority of the Coven- Spawn in particular- winced at the sight of the man's burned skin. The fact that his clothes- a red-and-green striped pullover, brown trousers, a wide-brimmed brown hat, and a strange brown leather glove with massive 'claws'- were totally unharmed only added to the disturbing nature of his appearance.
"What happened to him?" Spike asked, as he glanced up at Constantine.
"Got thrown into a massive fire after he was revealed to be a child-killer who'd been tormenting the town of Springwood for the past few years," Constantine explained. "He was caught, but got out of it on a technicality at his trial, and the parents of his victims had him burned alive. However, after death, Freddy was contacted by three 'Dream Demons', who gave him the power to hunt and kill children in their dreams. People have always been able to figure out some way to stop his latest murder sprees, but he keeps on coming back anyway. According to Midnite's info, it sounds like this time round Freddy's been given a physical form in the real world to fight us, but he can still influence dreams; they just seemed to figure we wouldn't be sleeping that much for this crisis."
"With him on their team, that's certainly true," Leo said, indicating Freddy's file before turning back to Constantine. "Who else is there?"
"Well, there's this guy, but he's basically just a henchman; can't think for himself, but he's bloody hard to stop," the exorcist explained, as he tossed another collection of papers onto the table; this one showed a guy in clothing from around the eighteenth century, riding a horse, carrying a sword, and lacking a head. "The Hessian Horseman of Sleepy Hollow; favoured decapitating his opponents even before it happened to him, but a curse put on him by a witch allows anyone to control him for their own purposes if they hold his head. Normally, his controllers just have him decapitate people, but the Gathering might try something else; we'll have to wait and see."
"Ah," Angel said, sighing slightly as he looked at the picture. "Well, we'll have to bear that in mind when considering our battle strategy." He looked up at Constantine. "Anyone else?"
"Just one," Constantine replied, as he pulled out a last group of papers from the file and put them in the middle of the table. The Coven instantly noticed that the photograph in this case was a rather unusual one; while the dominating figure in the photograph appeared to be a large spider, there were also several orange deadlight-like things behind it, and the figure of a clown was also visible in the picture.
"Eh?" Spike asked, looking at Constantine in confusion. "What's with the photo?"
"The subject's a shapeshifter; those things in the photo are is three most constant forms," Constantine explained, as he looked around at the others. "It apparently came from somewhere outside the universe millions of years ago, settled down in the part of the world that would become the town of Derry in Maine, and waited there for ages until people came. It spent the next few centuries after people arrived hunting them in twenty-eight year cycles, each time starting and ending with a mass outbreak of violence, and normally targeted kids by transforming into something that provoked fear. It was tackled twice by a group of kids- well, they were kids the first time; the second time they were adults- in 1958 and 1985, but they only managed to severely wound it; the thing's eggs were destroyed, but it seems to have somehow come back to fight with the Gathering."
"Ah," Blade said, nodding ruefully as he studied the picture. "That's not good."
"So, what's our next move?" Leo asked, glancing over curiously at Angel.
"Basic stuff, really," Angel said, leaning forward to look at the others. "We need to go out there and try and attract the attention of the Gathering; if we split up, try and seem separate, they may become overconfident and attack us while we're 'off-guard'. Spawn, do your powers include teleportation?"
"To a basic degree," Spawn replied, shrugging as he looked back at Angel. "Haven't used it much- only even learned I had it recently-, so I'm not exactly perfect, but I should be able to take a couple of people around with me. Why do you ask?"
"Part of the idea," Angel explained, as he looked between Spawn and Leo. "If either of us are in trouble, I know we can call Leo to orb us out, but I'd like to know we have someone else available if needed."
Spawn shrugged. "I'll see what I can do," he said casually. "Just don't expect it to be a perfect rescue; I'm still working on how to sense people."
"An attempt is all we ask," Angel replied reassuringly, as he looked around at Leo. "You-" he began, then stopped as Leo cocked his head as though he'd just heard something. "What?"
"One of my charges," Leo said, looking at Angel with dawning fear. "They're under attack, and whatever it is, it's got a human soul but is only two feet high."
Spike smiled as he heard that, and, standing up, he looked at Leo inquiringly.
"Well, shall we be off?" he asked casually. "I'd rather like to meet this doll bugger."
"I'll come with you," Constantine said, stepping forward to look at Leo and Spike. "If this is Chucky, you'll need me to ensure he's put down for good; if I don't banish his soul, the Gathering could just piece him back together and we'd have the same problem all over again."
Angel nodded in approval.
"Agreed," he said, as he looked around at the rest of the Coven. "We'll put our plan to just go out and attract attention on hold; there's no point doing it if we're not all there. Take Chucky out as fast as possible and then get back here, OK?"
Spike chuckled slightly as Leo grabbed one of his arms, while simultaneously grabbing one of Constantine's.
"No offence, Peaches, but it's only a doll," he said, as Leo began to orb the three of them away. "How hard…"
AN: Well, there you have it; the eight members of the Gathering of Supernatural Psychopaths. If you have any other suggestions for membership, they would be appreciated, but I should state in advance that I'm looking for two key details in potential members; the ability to take a stupid amount of damage before they even begin to think about falling down, and a desire to kill people without any real reason for doing so