CHAPTER VI
I PUT A SPELL ON YOU
There are no beautiful surfaces without a terrible depth.
- Friedrich Nietzsche
You will not be punished for your anger; you will be punished by your anger.
-Buddha
The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.
-William Butler Yeats
MEANWHILE, IN GREENWICH, NEW YORK
"We're agreed then," the sorcerer said. "The Death Note is the most evil weapon in all of creation."
Three figures stood in the innermost confines of what was known as the Sanctum Sanctorum. This particular chamber of the magical three story house was one of the most used and best decorated parts of the house. All around the resident and his visitors were incense sticks, tribal masks, religious talismans, several Buddhist shrines, and enough Tibetan relics to make a museum curator drool.
The magical house belonged to one Stephen Strange, known to his friends and foes as Doctor Strange, Sorcerer Supreme of the known universe and one of the most powerful of beings in all the galaxies. Days ago he and two other of his occult colleagues received a Death Note from Batman with the request to have it studied and analyzed. That had also marked the first time since Batman had spoken fully about who Kira was and why he was locked up the way he was. The book was magic, Batman had said. He needed magicians who could unlock the mysteries of the book, and he needed them ASAP. Given Strange's past experiences of astral projection, demon invocations, and magical surgery upon the universe itself, he didn't think the note book explanation to be too farfetched.
Strange was used to wearing his cape and magus outfit when formally conversing with his peers, but today he was speaking with two mages that he knew especially well, so he decided to make an exception to the rule. On this day, he chose to go casual and donned a gray NYU sweater, blue jeans, and red sneakers. The white in his dark hair gave him a mature type of handsomeness; dressed in his usual sorcerer garbs, it would have given him a further air of mystery. However, the Death Note presented enough mysteries even for one such as Strange, and he knew it wouldn't kill him to get a bit of reprieve from the supernatural, even in such a minute way as clothing.
"And it's not just because of Yagami either," said the woman in the group. She was Zatanna Zatara, a member of the homi magi race, a magician with magic in her blood dating back for centuries. As a magician, she, like Strange, was one of the most powerful forces in the known universe. However, unlike Strange, Zatanna was a young woman in her twenties while the good doctor was a mature man somewhere in his fifties. What that meant was that, even if Zatanna were as strong as God itself, she was still plenty green behind her ears.
Like Strange, she too decided to go for an informal look: instead of donning her usual illusionist costume, she wore jeans, tennis shoes, and a black shirt with the words NERV with a fig leaf next to it in red. Strange and the other man in the room failed to perceive the cultural significance of the t-shirt. Though aware of her inexperience, magic was her bread and butter, so she was inclined to give her two cents.
"Personally, I don't think that this is a case of Yagami becoming evil due to his use of a morally neutral book," she continued. "If anything, Kira's use of the Death Note reveals its true nature. But the book is far older than Kira, and in some ways its even stronger than he is. This book has an energy all of its own. Yagami definitely became evil because of the choices he made with this book, but it was undoubtedly impure even before he got his hands on it. Who knows what psychopaths have already tried this thing out? Either way, our findings match Will Magnus': whatever this thing is, it isn't from Earth. Could the Death Note be both cosmic and supernatural?"
"You know as well as us that the line between magic and science is as thin as the razor's edge, Zatanna," the third man said. "Science is the off-shoot of magic, like. But this Death Note is old- eldritch old like- and its bleedin chi! It smells like a piece of fried dog crap, that it does!"
This man, a foxy and sly veteran with the nicotine caked voice, was John Constantine. For this occasion, he was dressed as he usually was: a brown trench coat, white shirt, brown slacks, and a red tie. In one hand, he held a cigarette, which he smoked in and out of conversation. In the other hand, he held a pint of Newcastle and did not seem to be bothered by the fact that he was the only one in the room drinking. He was blonde, his hair short and slicked back, with blue-green eyes, somewhere in his forties. Zatanna thought him to be handsome in a Sting sort of way.
"According to the instructions, there should be a Death God to go along with this thing," John continued. "You said that the Bat caught Kira, right, Zatanna? If this bloke really is the Devil himself, then it stands to reason that Kira has the reaper wrapped around his finger, like. May be that Kira is still plotting then. Believe me, I've seen the Bat once, and that is someone you can't stop plotting against."
"That could very well be true, John," Strange remarked. "And if that is the case, then we need to consider Yagami a very active foe, even if he is locked up. Have our independent investigations uncovered anything useful?"
"Not on my end," Zatanna sighed. "I've asked Daimon Hellstrom, Johnny Blaze and, Brother Voodoo, but they've never seen or heard of the thing before. The only thing useful I could get from Jericho is that he may have heard some cryptic hints about a ''book of death" written here and there in his magic books. Like that doesn't tell us what we already know. What about you, John? Have you got anything?"
"Bollocks is what I've got," John replied. "If the demon plane knows anything, they're not saying jack. Doesn't matter how much I threaten or intimidate: most of the ghosts and spirits are afraid of us, but I think that they're even more scared of Kira. Besides, we can tell that they're all quite interested in whatever hell Yagami is cooking up back in Arkham."
"I've had about as much luck as you have, John," Strange said. "I've travelled in the worlds between worlds, and I've summoned as many demons as I'm able to restrain. The only one who's been of any serious help has been my old friend and colleague, Jason Blood. Though Blood wanted his demon half to reveal more, Etrigan the demon was willing to only recite this rhyme:
The true Devil is a Man
And One that likes to pull strings
Too much isn't enough
For the Beast that devours everything
A Man challenges this monster?
One who is demon and god?
Then blood shall rain from the sky
Until he finishes his job.
The future is clear
And many will suffer until its culmination
The Bat will never stop bleeding
Until He reaches His Illumination
Strange paused. "Unfortunately, I have no idea what that means," he said. "That's Etrigan for you: as cryptic as ever when it suits his needs. Still, it would appear that Batman is central to the conflict. That's not too surprising: just saying Yagami's name while he handed me the Death Note was enough to make his entire posture rigid. I don't pretend to know what goes on in Bruce's mind, but it would appear that he hates Kira more than anybody he's hated in quite some time."
"John, I'm sorry I have to ask, but should you really be smoking?" Doctor Strange suddenly asked. "The Eye of Agamotto will dispel any acrid fumes away from me and to the Realm of the Ogdru Jahad, and Zatanna can always transport any nicotine damage into the lair of Dormammu. But from what I've heard, the last time you smoked too much you were stricken with cancer and nearly sent to Hell. I don't mean to pry, but..."
"You needn't worry yourself about that, mate," John said. "Smartened up rightly is what I did. Tibetan spell I dug up, like. Gives me Hell insurance, to give it a name. If I croak but go all peaceful like without any anger or fear, I'll finally be able to leave this dump of a realm. Technically, we're shooting for the formless realms, but we also fancy anything without pus spewing abominations."
"Sounds like you've been reading the Tibetan Book of the Dead," Zatanna stated.
John shrugged casually. "In our trade, it helps to know the exit doors," he said.
"In any event, there's still the Death Note to deal with," Strange said, getting the discussion back on track. "The most logical course of action then is to burn up this accursed book before-"
"No," Zatanna interupted with an apologetic look. "I've already spoke to Bruce about this, and I've thought about it myself. For all we know, the fact that Bruce has a Death Note may be why Kira hasn't used the other one against him: Batman is extremely healthy, so he could probably write down Yagami's name in the span of a heart attack. Then again, Kira could kill Bruce in other ways with the same book, but the fact that he hasn't yet may mean that he wants Bruce alive for God only knows what."
"That's assuming that Kira knows Batman is Bruce Wayne," Strange said.
"Bruce Wayne is Batman?!" Constantine exclaimed, looking shocked. "I thought the guy just funded the Bat! Like Batman Inc and all that corporate stuff!"
"Welcome to the world of masks and spandex, John", Zatanna said.
"But do you know that Kira knows who Batman really is?" Strange continued.
"No, but the Kira case has been almost Bruce's pet project for over a year now," Zatana said. "He means to keep that book, just like he means to keep kryptonite locked up in his cave. And, as a metahuman, I can't blame him for that. Batman may be Batman, but he's still only a mortal. And if Kira really does know who Batman is-"
"Again, you mention the possibility that Yagami might know the secret identity of Batman," Strange interjected. "Why is this?"
"Call it a woman's intuition," Zatanna said. "If that's not good enough, call it a magical woman's intuition. Look, Bruce has fought plenty of criminals over the years, right? He still hates Joker, Hush, Bane, and all of his other enemies, but he's also become used to their existence. The hatred isn't so sharp like when he first encountered them; you can tell by watching him operate that he's tamed whatever fury they arise in him. But Yagami is new. Yagami is different. Yagami is unprecedented. And if you observe Bruce while Kira is the topic of discussion, you can see that this new hatred is more raw and more vitriolic compared to all the rest. So if Batman really hates Kira that much, we should assume that there's something significant between the two of them. It might be that Yagami knows Batman's true identity. It might just be that Bruce knows Kira's true identity. It may even be both."
"Well, I'm not going to be the arse that goes and tells the bleedin' Bat that he can't have the Death Note," Constantine said. "So if you want to take the book away from him, you'll have to do it on your own, Stephen. I've already got neo nazi werewolves on me plate as it is; we're not so peachy keen about confronting the son of Dracula and Bruce Lee."
"I agree with you, John" Strange said. "If Batman wants to be the one responsible for guarding this Death Note, then that is fine with me. Personally, I don't even like the thing being in my home. Moreover, despite what cryptic hints Bruce has sparingly given us, it does appear as if it's best to let one detective hunt down another. With the Death Note in Batman's hands, the scales could even out. And though it may be a given, Bruce is one of the few people we can trust to keep the Death Note secret and hidden."
Doctor Strange paused. "What concerns me the most," he said, "Is that we haven't heard about the Death Note earlier. Zatanna, you're young, so that's understandable, but John and I have been magicians for decades now. How is it that none of us have known that the death gods are using these note books? And how long have Mictlantecuhtli, Hel, Izanami, and the like been using them?"
From somewhere upstairs came the sound of a ruckus, interrupting Strange; even between all those feet of wood, plaster, and granite, the sounds could clearly be distinguished as alarmed, upset, and turbulent.
"What in the name of-" Doctor Strange began.
The Sorcerer Supreme was interrupted when something crashed through the ceiling, a shower of wood chips and fine dust accompanying the fall.
Constantine, Zatanna, and Strange all quickly made their way to the fallen. The victim of the fall was a quietly handsome man, a Tibetan monk with a shaved head and a traditional green Chinese shirt and green pants. However, these clothes were considerably tattered and more than one bruise marred the man's otherwise boyish features.
"Wong?! Who did this to you?!" Strange exclaimed, holding his best friend and servant's head up. "Who has trespassed into the Sanctorum?!"
Wong's exhausted, drooping eyes shot open at once, as if controlled by the power of the questions posed to him. Wong was a martial arts adept who feared little, including death. However, all present were aware that there were fates worse than death, and the terror in Wong's eyes made Strange realize that whatever had arrived was worse than shuffling off one's mortal coil.
"It's Doom!" Wong shouted.
Something massive jumped into the hole, seemingly intent on crushing all those below him upon impact. Strange, placing Wong over a shoulder, teleported himself out of the way as something large, green, and silver descended from the hole. Zatanna teleported herself several feet away; taking a more pragmatic approach, John leaped over a desk and took cover.
Where Wong once lied was now a new figure, landing on one foot and one knee. This staggeringly large visitor was encased in steel armor from head to toe, and a green hood and cape clasped to his neck fell upon the floor. The only thing human that could be seen of this man were two ferocious jade eyes burning like a green fire behind the metal, a midnight funeral pyre.
"I hope that you will act wisely, Strange," said Victor Von Doom, standing up to over six feet. "I have come here for one and only one thing. Give me the Death Note, and I will spare the lives of you and-"
"Pots, Mo-" Zatanna broke in. The situation was heading south rapidly, and she wanted to end this yesterday. With Doom on the scene, the once placid discussion had now turned into a full-blown emergency.
"POTS, ARATTZA!" Doom roared over Zatanna.
Zatanna froze, as commanded. In terms of raw power, Zatanna was one of the strongest beings on the planet. However, even with that being the case, she was still a young woman in her twenties, still impressionable and still tender-footed. Thus, it was understandable that she was more than unnerved by this iron giant, which enabled him to supersede her volume. And, like the ruthless goliath that he was, Doom intended to take advantage of Zatanna's weaknesses as much as he possibly could.
Doom shot a beam of eldritch energy at the paralyzed Zatanna, but Strange fairly leaped in front of her, activating a force field and repelling the energy in the process. Priceless magic tomes, tools, and bric-a-brac rained on all four of the magicians as the magical house struggled to contain the mounting energy. Moving quickly for a man his age, Strange then leapt at Doom, magick energy swirling around his hands and his feet.
Not wanting anymore of his sanctum and its invaluable contents to be endangered yet wanting to end this fight as quickly as possible, Dr. Strange began to throw a flurry of martial arts kicks and punches at Doom. Though the sorcerer's scarred hands would never allow him to resume his career as a medical doctor, they were surprisingly adept at the combative arts. This was due largely to Wong: as Dr. Strange the magician was master to Wong the servant, so too was Wong the martial arts master of Strange the student. Only recently had Strange learned to combine his kung fu with his magick, and Doom was as deserving as any other opponent to try to his newfound repertoire on.
Strange came at Doom admiringly, delivering punches and kicks far faster than most men his age (let alone any age) could. Doom, however, came back at Strange with just as much vigor and vitality. Strange was more than unnerved that someone as massive as Doom could move so swiftly and accurately, but he shut this thought down and emptied his mind to think clearly. One mistake, and the Latverian tyrant could and would destroy everything around him.
Fist was blocked by fist and foot was repelled by foot as the two magicians engaged in combat. "Your pitiful resistance bores me, Strange," Doom said, blocking a crescent kick. "You are old, far older than I, and you cannot keep up this defiance for long. It is the Death Note that I want, sorcerer. Again, deliver it to me, and I shall spare all of your lives. Refuse, and I will grind you into the dust."
How the hell did Doom find out about that blasted book? Strange wondered, anxiety assailing him alongside the thought. Picturing Doom with the Death Note was like picturing Luthor with the Green Lantern ring: utterly fubar.
"Doom, listen to me!" Doctor Strange shouted, dodging a punch. "The Death Note is a weapon that exceeds all known evil! In anyone's hands, it will bring only destruction and despair! In your hands, you will only ruin what life you have left! The book may be evil, but I know from helping you save your mother that there's still good in you! Give this fight up before we both kill each other!"
"Your contrived concern for my well-being is most amusing, Strange," Doom said, throwing an elbow that Strange repelled. "But while Victor Von Doom may bow to no man, Kira has been able to bring about a global order I have once been able to only dream of. In your hands, the Death Note would only rot. In the hands of Kira, Latveria will finally become the world's one and only superpower. This Kira has promised me. And with the ineffectual actions of both you and your peers, I am more inclined to declare my support for the new god."
Damn, even with Yagami behind bars, Kira still possesses the ability to manipulate monsters like Doom? Strange thought as the dark magus blocked a mid-level kick. Just how far does Yagami's fingers reach?!
Strange saw Doom prepare for a close encounter eldritch blast, so he leaped back before the blast could touch him. The leap was around fifteen meters to the right, enabling the beam to pass him by. Strange then zoomed in on Doom, light magenta power swirling around his hands, now in a karana mudra position. Strange didn't intend to kill Doom with his magic attack, but he did intend to bring him as close to it as he could. Doctor Strange knew that it was a morally dubious prospect, but then Doom was a ruthless titan who wouldn't stop if he had at least one drop of energy left in him.
Suddenly, something struck Strange in his back violently, forcing him forward into a stumbling motion. Strange would have thought more about the inflammatory pain now coursing its way though his back, but the sudden placing of Doom's hand on his throat precluded further thought on the manner. Strange was too dazed to feel Doom place his left hand on his back, lift him u with the right and then slam him back down onto his back. Strange possessed enough virility not to pass out, but the red hot pain that flared in his midsection choked whatever cries of suffering he could have and would have uttered.
"What has just occurred, shaman," Doom said, standing over Strange and appearing to be several feet higher than he actually was "Is that that beam was heat seeking and not even you, Strange, have eyes in the back of you head.
Doom kicked Strange's prone body, causing the latter to sail and crash right into Zatanna. The two fell over a table, thus breaking it in the process, and were subsequently showered by a pile of magic knick-knacks.
"Because you have helped me free my mother from the clutches of Mephisto, I shall allow you to live, Strange," Doom said. "Ah, truly, that magic spell was an impeccable gift from Kira. But I am getting ahead of myself. Where is the Englishman? Where is he who is known as the "Constant One"?"
"I'm right over here, mate," John said, emerging from behind a twenty foot high Buddha statue. In one hand, he held the Death Note. The other hand he kept in a pocket of his coat. "Don't shoot, alright? I'm willing to parlay with you, if that's what you want. But if you try to pull over some bollocks on me, and I'll burn this bloody thing with me lighter. How much do you want to bet that I didn't douse this thing in lighter fluid while you were fighting Strange and Zatanna?"
"Ah, yes, the proletariat magician," Doom said crossing his arms, seemingly not perturbed by Constantine's threats. "I've heard many a tale about you and your cleverness, Constantine. Do you truly desire to match your little tricks against the brute force that is Von Doom?"
"Can't say that I do, mate," Constantine answered, hiding his bleeding fingers in his pocket. "With a little more time, I might have been able to summon an ifrit to stall you, but in a straight to straight fight? You've got me nicked, I'll admit it."
"It is refreshing to meet one with enough sense to recognize the uselessness of defying me," Doom said. "For that, I will generously spare your life. And all that I command in return is that you hand over the Death Note. This is as magnanimous as you will find me today, magus."
"See, now, I would," John said, buying time, "But, see, the thing here is-"
John cut himself short and, with a bark of intimidated courage, flung his bleeding hand at Doom.
Droplets of crimson hit Doom's eyes and some of the skin around them. Doom replied by falling to one knee, screaming in agony. Despite the fire burning all around Doom's head, he retaliated by flashing a mano cornuta hand signal at force sent the Liverpool native crashing horizontally into one of Dr. Strange's book-cases, cracking it in the process. Constantine uttered a sharp cry of pain as his spine met the wood, but it was undone by Dr. Doom's own cries of apoplectic agony.
"CONSTANTNE, YOU BASTARD!" Doom roared. "I WILL MAKE YOU DIE A THOUSAND DEATHS BEFORE I AM THROUGH WITH YOU!"
Doom's gauntlets clawed at his eyes, trying to smear away the blood. His attempts proving futile, Doom fell on his last resort: he removed his mask and flung it away.
What John saw underneath that mask chilled his blood and churned his stomach, leaving an awed sense of horror in its wake. True, the English magician was no stranger to the uglier bits of magic and the more sordid parts of life. In a career spanning more than twenty years, he had encountered hellspawn, vampires, and serial killers. When you lived that kind of a lifestyle, a little bit of the ultra-violence became second-hand. However, what John saw behind Doom's mask was ugliness beyond description, that rare type of facial repulsiveness that matched the darkness of the owner's heart. Constantine could fell the pastrami sandwich he had eaten earlier begin to rise in his throat, but he swallowed as much saliva as he could to keep the vomit down.
Well aware that time was of the essence, John shouted, "Aeternam quae exstincta non est posita, ET ALIENUM MORTE MORIATUR SAECULA!"
Whether or not Doom was aware of it, a red light began to glow in a circle around him. Lines within that circle then began to light up. The lines formed an intricate symbol; Doom, despite being caught in the throes of agony, momentarily recognized his new predicament.
"No-" Doom began.
But it was too late. The red light had now completely engulfed the Latverian tyrant, and he roared like a proud lion caught in a trap. The light contracted, sealing in Doom, becoming smaller and smaller until the red light eventually became a small red dot, and then faded away into nothingness.
Constantine got back up to his feet, groaning in pain. Cracking his neck, he eyed the location where Strange and Zatanna had been thrown: underneath a pile of books, charms, and broken table fragments.
"Unless you two are doin' the dirt, you can get up now," John said to the pile of debris.
The broken table shifted, and Strange and Zatanna emerged from within, scratched and scathed but otherwise intact.
"What just happened?" Zatanna asked. "Where's Doom?"
"And where is Wong?" Strange asked, a bit of panic hiding in his otherwise steady voice.
Constantine lit a new cig with his clean hand, then moved a pile of books around with his bloody hand, crouching down on his knees. Underneath about forty or so esoteric tomes was Wong, still battered and bruised but nothing that a little yoga and pot wouldn't fix.
"So Doom didn't slaughter us all after all," Wong said, sounding drained. "Thanks to be to Buddha."
"Thanks be to Buddha?" John asked, arching an eyebrow. "What about thanks be to John?"
"May you shine with bliss eternally," Wong replied.
"I'll take that as a thank you," John said. He helped Wong to his feet, cringing. "Don't think that's supposed to snap. Sorted, then: I'm getting smashed tonight. Bloody well earned it."
"And our thanks, among other things," Strange said. "But how did you do it, John? How did you get rid of Doom?"
John pointed his clean finger to seemingly random blood patterns on the floor. "While you and Zatanna were off doing your tango with the Tin Man, I had to go and hide myself," he explained. "Not that I was trying to escape or anything like that: we just needed to come up with a plan. Then I remembered something: I've got demon blood running through me. Long story short, I once accepted a blood transfusion from Nergal in order to speed up my healing and to finish a fight. Admittedly, it's… a bit bloody spooky that I've got this stuff in me, but it's come in handy before. I've been able to poison vampires and to control djinn, among other things, with it. Then I remembered something that Stephen once told me: that Doom had built his armor in order to ward off attacks by demons. So I figured that since Doom never took the hint from Darth Vader to cover up his entire face, a wee bit of my blood in his eyes might be enough to buy me some time to pull off a spell. Risky, I know, but my theory was verified when Doom hit me with the mano cornuta which only works against demons. Anyway, hiding gave me enough time to make the sigils, sending him straight to R'lyeh, the city of chaos. " He inhaled his cigarette once more. "Knowing him, he'll be able to escape and gain access back to this realm even without his mask protecting him."
There was a beat.
"I would say that that has to be one of the most stunningly shrewd maneuvers I've ever heard anyone pull off," Strange eventually said. "But then, I know you quite well, John."
Constantine shrugged. "We aim to please," he said.
"At the very least, you've bought us all some time," Zatanna said. "With the element of surprise no longer on Doom's side, he's going to find it a lot harder to sneak into the santorum. Which brings up an interesting question: How was Doom even able to get into the house? Don't you have talismans protecting every inch of your home, Stephen?"
"Indeed I do, Zatanna," Strange said, placing a hand on his chin in thought. "Someone with Doom's utterly impure karma shouldn't have been able to attack us. In theory, an intruder would need something to negate the protection spells of this house."
"But what could Doom have used to get in here?" Zatanna asked. "What could possibly be powerful enough to counterattack several of your spells?"
"I think Skeletor might have left us a clue," John said, walking over to where Doom had been magically transported. He crouched down onto his haunches, picking up something with his back towards his fellow mages. When he stood back up to face them, he held two things in his hands. In one, the Death Note he had dropped during his collision. In the other, a torn page from the book of death. "Doom was most likely to get in with this. And if one page was powerful enough to bypass all of Stephen's security, then this thing has to be even more powerful than we had originally thought. I think our problems have just been exacerbated, mates: not only is this a portable WMD, but now we know that Kira was able to contact Doom and to convince him to capture it. You need to get this thing back to the Bat ASAP, Zatanna. That book is one of the worst things I've ever had the displeasure of getting near, and if that Doom tosser is any indication, Kira might keep sending one mask after another until he gets the bleedin' thing.
Zatanna picked up Doom's mask. Though it didn't exactly hurt her to touch it, she still shuddered at the insidious energy running within and without it. "So then what do we do with this?" she asked.
Strange thought, then began to rummage through the pile of books that had once buried Wong. Selecting one, he opened it and began to quickly browse through a few pages. After a few moments, he closed it. John and Zatanna were not all that surprised to see that the book was dusty, worn, and written with intricate sigils.
"I may no longer practice medicine," he said at last, "but in my own way I'm still a doctor. And a true doctor never lets a good part go to waste. "
"What are you planning, boss?" Wong asked.
Strange paused, studying the mask in Zatanna's hand. "Hopefully, something that will turn the tide of this war," he said.
I hear voices in my head. Often, they're of the irritating as hell variety, such as Dragoon, mow the lawn, or Dragoon, take out the trash, or even Dragoon, don't dig up the pipeline. (Thankfully, I've learned to mostly ignore them). But then I also hear the voices of this fanfic's characters, both as I write and as I go back over the prose. Part of the joy behind writing, I think, is hearing your players come alive, something that can make an otherwise ordinary day seem a hell of a lot more interesting. So ust for the sake of fun, here's a listing of who I imagine to voice these amazing characters.
CASTING CALL:
BATMAN: Kevin Conroy
LIGHT: Stephen Dorff (English)/Mamoru Miyano (Japanese)
NIGHTWING: Brandon Lee
MIKAMI: Kirk Thornton (English)/Masaya Matsukaze (Japanese)
JOKER: Mark Hamill
TWO-FACE: Denzel Washington (He's almost always playing the cool, suave dude. Let's see that combined with the ravaged rage of Face.)
GORDON: Gary Oldman (I can't help it. Oldman owned the Batman movies so much that he actually made people cheer for a cop)
Wow. Super original, I know. But it'd make for one hell of a movie.
Lastly, here's an awesome Batman cartoon I found and thought was too glorious not to share with my fine readers. Enter The Batman!
BATMAN OF SHANGHAI: watch?v=-Gbs67ApxL4