Issue 2: Discourse/Discord
Diana sipped at the korma in her tankard, a hand pressing against her pounding skull, as she watched the proceedings in front of her.
"What nonsense is this, Cerf Ancienes?!" The masked being with elven ears pounded the feast-table with his fist, knocking over several flagons and tankards; ignorant of the low grumbling coming from both sides, he pointed a finger at Cernunnos, who leaned on his staff, eyes downcast.
"Our king Elatha lies dead by this murderer's-" -he pulled a young man towards him- "hand, and yet, you come to us with fool tales of your vassal's bond-breaking and this waif being the Damoisele the Mere spoke of. No." He shook his head, violently. "This will not stand. We demand vengeance. We demand supplication from all who dwell in Tír na nÓg-"
He spread his hands. "Lest war without end befalls this land."
"Insolent consanguin," spat a golden-haired man. "You forget, Captain Furf, that I, and my Fiann, drove your ancestors back to whence they came, to rot with their king. Do not think that I cannot do so again."
Furf scoffed. "For one who woke not a fortnight ago, you are bold, mac Cumhaill. Or has your ailit cast some glamour on you from her time with her rapist?"
Mac Cumhaill surged to his feet, face reddened with rage as he leapt over the feast-table at Furf. "I'll have you flayed for that, murúch fir!"
Heaving a sigh, Cernunnos gave a glance to Diana.
Taking one last sip, Diana set her tankard down, then, moving so fast so as to be a blur, seized both the Fomorian and macc Dé Danann, hoisting them by the scruffs of their clothes as she hovered above the table.
"Your guardian," she began in a firm voice, "summoned me and my colleague to this place to resolve your ridiculous squabbles. Yet, in the past hours since I alone have arrived, you two have yammered on about a "return" to the world of Man, and have hurled idiotic spit-daggers at one another over who murdered your king, and your guest." She looked at both of them in turn. "Stop this mad circling, and let someone with at least an ounce of a mind between their ears figure this out."
"Our king-" -Furf coughed, the breastplate of his armor digging into his chest- "- is dead! Have you no understanding of what this means?!"
Better than you know, Diana thought to herself.
"I will release you both if-" -at this, she shook the two of them lightly- "you both cease your wasteful rivalry. I was summoned to help your peoples come to peace with one another, but they cannot start that peace without one to emulate."
The pair looked at each other angrily, but as Diana watched, mac Cumhaill's expression shifted to one of sheepish embarrassment. He stuck out a hand. "A truce?"
Furf clenched his fists, then nodded, grasping the proffered hand and giving a quick, single shake.
Diana lowered, dropping them in their respective seats, then floated to the head of the table.
"Now: my companion has been lost to me for nearly three hours, or what should be hours to me. We both entered Lord Cernunnos' portal, but when the two of us arrived, I was the only one left. Therefore, I ask: where is Batman?"
The grappling prong embedded into the tree branch, but when he activated the miniaturized motor in the grapple gun, he only got a half-dozen feet in the air before the branch snapped off.
Batman pressed the release button on the side of the grapple gun, hands going to the edges of his cape and attaching with a short crackle of electricity. He dipped below the falling branch, chest a foot off the ground, before pulling up, swooping over a number of fallen branches and trees and perching on a relatively-thick branch.
He pressed two fingers to his temple, blinking as the world lit up with data and infrared scans.
It's not sonar, Bruce; it's-
"Detective-sense," he murmured, body low to the branches as he ran through the trees.
The cowl's audial sensors spiked with a low, normally-undetectable growl, and he felt the air beside him shift. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the maroon-colored sky darken, and a pair of glowing yellow eyes snaked into his field of view.
"Irrer," Batman stated, pulling up short.
A dark red tongue flicked outward, the floating eyes never wavering, as Bruce heard, as if all around him, No, sssson of Ióssua; I am Kúuul, of the Aag-Gáire. Thissss 'Iiirrer' you sspeaaak of is not known to usss.
Batman rubbed at his face, letting out a sigh.
I am taaakiiiing yoouuu toooo my Misstressss, lessst sssheeee ssskin meee for gauntletssss.
"Like hell you are," Batman ground out, pulling a batarang from his belt.
The eyes vanished as Batman felt his arms press against his chest. He had scarcely begun to touch the concealed high-decibel emitter in his belt before he felt fangs plunge into his neck.
Diana crouched at the edge of the loch, swirling the silvered waters with a light touch.
The white-maned face of Nodens appeared in the eddies. "Milady."
Diana dipped her head. "Lord Nodens. I request passage to Tír fo Thuinn." Noting the sea god's wrinkling nose, she forged on, "It is of utmost importance that I arrive post-haste; I fear for my… colleague's fate."
"Tis a stone-headed request you make of me, Lady Diana. The passage between Balaramás' branches has grown treacherous in recent times, and many dark fae stalk its' ways."
Her lips turned downward. "I know of these things, my Lord; they are why I am here before you in the first place."
The apparition waved its' hand, making the water curve upward. "Och, woman. Your ears are stuffed. I cannae-"
Cernunnos' visage crept over the border of the water. "Nephew, do as she requests."
The sea god's expression shifted ever so slightly, but enough. "At once, milord."
Diana began to draw her hand back, but webbed fingers broke out of the water's still surface and yanked, hard.
She tried to pull back again, but the hand wrapped around her wrist was insistent - up until it was cut from the arm by a flash of silver. A horrendous shriek burbled out of the loch, echoing about the forest, as "Nodens" fell from sight.
Tearing the offending appendage from her skin, Diana hurled it into the woods, then, strapping her sword to her waist, pulled her hair into a messy ponytail and tensed her muscles. She looked over at Cernunnos. "I will find him."
The horned god dipped his hand in the waters, eyes darkening with the pool's color. "Go," he whispered, "and good fortune to you, milady."
Turning back to the loch, Diana drew in a breath, and dove in.
Bruce woke with a start, upper body heaving into the air as he shouted, "Stop!"
His voice echoed around him.
He sniffed the air. Dust, salt, mold- a cave, most likely littoral.
Swinging his legs, he felt for the floor, an involuntary shiver passing through him as he felt the sheer cold coming up through the soles of his feet.
Eyes squinted, he looked around the cave. Books were strewn about the dark stone floor, along with torn articles of clothing and several wineskins. He noted the presence of quite a few binding wraps.
"Ah, good. You're awake."
Bruce watched as a form of sea-green flickered into being before him, before settling into the shape of an ashen-haired woman. He averted his eyes.
"Come now, silly. It's not like you haven't seen all this before."
Fingernails dug into his chin as she wrenched his head to face her.
"You can look, you know." Releasing him, she straightened back up, making no move to cover herself, and perched a hand on her hip. "My husband holds no qualms towards a sudden twist in the sheets, no matter the-"
She looked him up and down, tongue darting out to wet reddening lips. "Man."
Bruce felt the old beast shift inside of him, but the feeling of his nails digging into his palms stopped its rise.
"I am en-"
"Engaged." She tossed her head, scoffing, "As if that didn't implode hours ago."
He stilled.
"Oh, yes, Bruce. I know of your little 'kit for bat' with the former 'future Mrs. Wayne'. I must say- it's quite a shame she doesn't approve of the methods I myself employ. Ostara only knows why she didn't enjoy being collared for sport-"
A sound of near-animalistic rage rang through the cave as he launched himself at the offending stranger. She crossed her arms, then vanished in a flash. His hands scraped against the rough floor, but he was back up in moments, prepared to subdue her.
In the space of a blink, an arm was around his neck, and the skin at his waist prickled at the feeling of a point of a knife.
Her sultry gasp whispered past his ear. "Naughty, naughty, Brucie. Mistress Branwen will have to punish you for that."
The point of the knife slid up and in.
Translations
korma - type of ancient Celtic beer, made from barley
Cerf Ancienes - Old French for "Stag of the Ancients"
Damoisele - Old French for "Maiden"
Mere - Old French for "Mother"
consanguin - French for "inbred"
ailit - Irish for "doe" or "tall poorly-dressed woman".
murúch fir - Irish for "mermaid man"
macc Dé Danann - Irish for "son/descendant of Danu"
Irrer - German for "madman"
Kúl - mutated Irish for "tail"
Ag-Gáire - Irish for "Ones who Laugh (Laughing Ones)"
Tír fo Thuinn - Irish for "land under the wave"
Balaramás - Irish for "Balor's/Balar's Mace" (equivalent to Yggrdasil)
Author's Note: So, I'm publishing this at an ungodly hour, and I want to crash, but I've got a shitload of work today and tomorrow, so... Yeah.
Anyways: a bit more story development for you guys.
As you can see, this is going to be one for the darker category of Wonderbat stories. I can only hope to be able to address exactly what I'm attempting to say about the current in-comic characters of Bruce and Diana near the end of the story, which will probably cap around Chapters 7-9.
Also: I don't enjoy putting "Read & Review" on my stories, but if you have something to say about the direction I'm going in, please, feel free to post something; PM me, even.
-Nate