"We are all visitors to this time, this place. We are just passing through. Our purpose here is to observe, to learn, to grow, to love... and then we return home."
- Australian Aborigine Proverb
"If I thought my answer were to one
who would ever return to the world,
this flame should stay without another movement; but since none
ever returned alive from this depth, if what I hear is true,
I answer thee without fear of infamy."
- Dante Aligheri: Inferno; Canto XXVIII, Lines 61-66
The next few days? ... Quiet. Strange. Recuperating, really. It was difficult getting over an excursion into Hell. None of the Titans had been left untouched. Kresk had all but disappeared into his room. Every one felt like they needed their own space for their own reasons. Raven, however, felt the need not to get lost in isolation, but in the mindless throng of society. Surrounded by people, nameless, faceless, utterly alien to her, but still somehow comforting, was unnerving, infuriating, but somehow rejuvenating, somewhat like lying on the grass even though gnats insist on biting the skin. Her roost of choice was the bookstore/cafe, Carpe Libram.
Raven, though, was not her true self. She had manipulated her skin tone into a healthier degree, past the ash gray. Her hair was now black and disheveled, with a slight greasy undertone to hide its natural sheen. She could do nothing about her eyes; they remained lavender. Her loose, cotton shirt was a dull shade of grey that could best be called 'purgatory', with the message 'Normal Service Will Be Resumed Shortly' written across it. Her dress was a long and baggy affair, complementing her Birkenstock. This was a good human form in her opinion; not very noticeable, unkempt enough to be unappealing to some, with a certain wispy aura of un-ease that kept others at edge.
She had no drink for herself, only a copy of the 'Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner' that the store employees would be annoyed to see get put back on the shelf (again). An arcane disturbance rippled across her skin, jagged and wild, preceding an angry voice, "How can you charge that much?!"
"Miss, please keep your voice down-"
"It's theft! It's extortion! It's a crime!"
"I don't make the rules on the coffee, miss, I just work-"
"Well you better change the rules!"
"It's not my decision-"
"Where's your manager?!"
"I -am- the manager."
"... How did you get to be the manager?! You idiot! What do you mean it's not your call?! You're the manager! No one's got a gun to your head! You're too stupid to be the manager of anything! How did you even get a job?!"
"Because I didn't become a bitchy little thief who screwed up her life! There?! Is that the answer you wanted?! Is that what you wanted to hear?! God! You couldn't even be a criminal the right way! You even screwed THAT up!"
"..."
"Now get out of the line before I call the cops and tell them you were trying to blow shit up! And I really doubt anyone but you is going to say otherwise..."
Huffing loudly, Jinx stormed off. Towards the girl otherwise called Raven. Annoyance and panic ran across Raven. Personally, she felt that Jinx got what she deserved. And absolutely nothing in the world could move her to put up with spell-thief right now. Jinx kept moving forward. Raven could only think, 'Please don't come over here, please don't come over here, please don't come over here.'
Still, Jinx moved forward.
'Look, there's a lovely spot over there. It's called 'not near me'. It's great. You should try it. It's got all sorts of stuff that I'm sure an annoying... whatever you are would be interested in. Go over there. Now. Right now. This second. 'Not near me' will disappear if you don't go over there in a few seconds.'
The other witch was practically at the table now.
'I am thinking at you very loudly. How can you not be picking up on my thoughts? Listen to the sound of my thoughts. Do you not hear them? They're telling you to -leave me alone or I will make your head explode.-"
Jinx sat in the adjoining seat with a huff. Her hair was down, not that it made much difference. And all Raven could think was, 'They find me, God... How do they find me? It's you, isn't it? You're doing this... I'm not laughing, by the way.' Jinx snarled (to Raven, unfortunately), "Can you believe this bullshit? I mean, how can they do this?" Raven only let out a quiet, hopefully disinterested sounding "Hrm."
"This is just wrong. They can't just blackmail me like this!"
"Mm-hrm..."
"And I wouldn't have to throw a fit if the crap they made was worth even -half- the price!"
"Mm..."
"They shouldn't just have the right to boss me around because of things I used to do."
"Mm-hrm..."
"I mean, judging me because of what I do is wrong, right?"
"Hrm..."
"... You can drop the act now, Raven. I can see there's no baiting you out here."
'Damn.' was all the cambion could think to herself. Letting out a sigh, Raven asked, "How did you know?" Smiling with that infuriating cheshire cat grin, Jinx said, "I could hear your thoughts from across the room. I didn't even have to listen."
"Oh. I must've forgotten to turn off the telepathy."
"I'll say. Why didn't you help me?"
"Why should I?"
"Because we're both Titans?"
"Yeah, that doesn't really fly for me. Kid Flash may have vouched for you, but I've got a thing about randomly trusting girls with superpowers and amoral ethical compasses. Go ahead and call it prejudice, if you like."
"I should. I'd expect you out of all people to vouch for equal rights."
"See, the problem there is that I didn't -choose- to be half-demon. I just got dealt that."
"Well I didn't choose to be a meta-human either..."
"I think it's the super-criminal thing that puts most people off."
"I'm not even a thief anymore, though..."
"Really?"
"...Well I might swipe some jewelry from time to time. It's not like anybody's using it. But still, that doesn't mean I can't be trusted here."
"Oh, no! You mean -all- shopkeepers and business owners don't trust known thieves? That's just... whoa. My world-view has changed. It just left. There go all my hopes for flamboyantly and directly stealing from a national bank. In broad daylight. Surrounded by superheroes. With often imbecilic team mates. And powers that literally make things go wrong. All those years I spent planning... but now, alas, my dreams. They have gone up in flames."
"... You done?"
"I suppose."
"Yeah, well, there's no need to rub it in. I thought that at least-"
"Look, don't you have something better to do? Like, learn real magic or yell at another public servant or something?"
"Hey! What do you mean 'learn real magic'? I know magic!"
"... Sure whatever makes you feel special. Why don't you go freshen up on it then."
"I know just as much magic as you."
"No. Absolutely not. You can call those parlor tricks you throw around 'magic' all you want, but you can't even -begin- to claim you know more than I. I have personally browsed through the libraries of Azerath, an arch-demon, and the Illumian. I have been tutored by dragons, gods, demons, and nothing but raw fear. You? You throw energy around. Shooting energy around a mage does not make. If I called everyone with lasers a mage, half the people in this city, if not on this planet, would be mages. Victor's sonic cannon? Magic. Starfire's bolts? Magic. Laser eye surgery? By your definition, magic. And before you even start with that 'technology can be called magic to a certain degree' stuff, no, it can't. You might use magic, you might fling it around, you may even dress up like a little witch and act like you know some big secret that common mortals don't, but you aren't a mage. You're just a thief who happens to use magic."
".... Fine! I guess I'll just go then! If nobody wants me around, then I guess I'm out! Thanks a lot, bitch!" Before Jinx could move entirely out of her seat, Raven gripped her arm and pulled her back down. Jinx tried to move away, but found the half-demon to be surprisingly strong. Raven apologetically cooed, "I'm sorry, gods, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you like that. It's just been a rough time for me. I came here to unwind and I wasn't expecting to have to talk to anybody, much less you."
"What's that supposed to mean? What, talking to me is a chore?"
"Sometimes." Disgusted, Jinx tried harder to escape the cambion's iron grip. She finally gave up and spat, "Yeah, well that's no reason to fly off the handle at me! You could have just left!"
"You would have followed."
"... Only to annoy you."
"You're not making this apology any easier."
"... Fine."
With a sigh of relief, Raven breathed out, "Good." She threw back her head and popped her neck before rubbing her eyes. Jinx couldn't help but sense the stress flowing off the cambion and asked, "So what's got you all wound-up?"
"Nothing... just got back from a trip... a long trip."
"How come I didn't notice? If you and the other Titans had been out of the city, crime would have skyrocketed. Not that I know of such things... anymore."
"It was just a day trip. But trust me, it was longer than it should have been."
"That bad, huh?"
"It was Hell."
"Well, now you see why nothing good can come from dealing with normal people."
"I'm going execute this poorly executed joke by wishing death on whatever malevolent being contrived it, and gently explaining it to you. I was in Hell. As in the dimension, Hell. The Hellish kind of Hell. Hell, as in where the Devil is. Hell, as in where the souls of the damned are tortured. Hell, as in that place that actively works against that other place called Heaven. I was not in a dimension so terrible that it might be referred to as Hell. I was not on another planet or wavelength or in some state of spiritual fugue. I, as in my physical body and ethereal soul, were in Hell, the darkest pit of punishment in the multiverse. As mortals think of and fear Hell, this place grew stronger. It was a bad place. There were bad things there. And something tells me I'm going to spending the remainder of my life having to deal with it on a casual basis."
"...Oh."
"Exactly. We've all been recuperating the last few days. You don't go to Baator and then just get over it. Not without years of plane-walking, Kresk says. But even he got knocked out cold while we were there. "
"Kresk? That big red -thing- that blew up half the city a few months ago? How can something like him be scared of Hell?"
"There's always a bigger fish. We had to deal with some of... the bureaucracy."
"What does that even mean?"
"It would take too long to explain. But it's put us all on edge. Even Cyborg has had trouble."
38 degrees to the left.
Exactly three inches inward.
Do not compact.
Warning: Wiring being compressed.
Danger: Compression may lead to damage of central circuits.
Alert: Compression alleviated.
Routing to mainframe...
Routing...
Routing...
Adapting to rejuvenation programming...
Adapting...
Connecting to generator...
Changes complete.
Area restarting to accommodate changes. Yes or No?
Without hesitation, Victor agreed to 'Yes'. His internal computer blanked out for a moment. He could feel the remaining human parts of him working by themselves, but it was difficult to move or breathe without pain. Within another moment, the Machine flashed back on. The cradling presence of technology melded with him again, accounting for every action and heartbeat. The re-installed security system was already at work, scanning every file, inspecting every outlet, reviewing every monitor recording. Cyborg smiled, pleased with himself. Shifting his good human eye, as if the contraptions around him might judge him, he inspected his other improvement. The sheet of metal where he recharged every night was now between two extraordinary modems, a mere a two and a half inches away from the wall. Popping open his light, he looked over the wires, tubes, and batteries before walking away. As he left the room, Victor ignored the derisive laughter of the Machine in his head.
"So it's really gotten them shook up, huh?" Jinx went on. Raven raised an eyebrow, mocking "You wouldn't be?"
"Well, no. But why did they even go?"
"I'm ashamed to admit I baited them into it."
"Really now? But why?"
"I was hoping that Kresk and them might get to know each other a little better. It was a stupid idea, I shouldn't have pushed it on either of them."
"Seriously. I mean, what were you hoping for there? No, seriously, what could possibly come out of that that would ever be remotely described as 'good'? I''m honestly curious here."
"I was just hoping to find common ground. I've been trying since they met each other. This latest debacle... I'm calling it quits. They can all bond on their own time from now on."
"Or they might tear each other to shreds."
"Don't make me feel any worse about this."
"Too late."
Raven groaned again. Jinx, in a rare moment of sympathy, comforted, "Hey... look, I'm sure there's a silver lining here."
Still pessimistic, but a little calm, Raven explained, "Oh, I know. Not all the changes I've noticed have been for the worse."
Dick Grayson looked at the card Kresk had given him. At the moment, he was Richard Grayson, not Robin or any other vigilante, but simply himself, as he had been born. He had no idea how to use this thing; it was, after all, just a gold-leaf piece of paper with a symbol on it. Flipping it around, he turned the card on its side so that it was little more than a sliver in his vision. Turning it back, he was surprised to find a series of numbers printed on one side. It appeared to be a... telephone number? Richard had been wondering how the card worked and now, here was an answer. Cautiously, he dialed the number on his communicator. There was a faint ringing before a loud, monotonous voice rang out, "01001000 01100101 01101100 01101100 01101111 00101100 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01101000 01100001 01110110 01100101 00100000 01110010 01100101 01100001 01100011 01101000 01100101 01100100 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01100001 01111000 01101001 01101111 01101101 00100000 01100011 01101111 01101101 01101101 01110101 01101110 01101001 01100011 01100001 01110100 01101001 01101111 01101110 00100000 01110011 01100101 01110010 01110110 01101001 01100011 01100101 01110011 00101110 00100000 01010000 01101100 01100101 01100001 01110011 01100101 00100000 01100010 01100101 00100000 01110000 01100001 01110100 01101001 01100101 01101110 01110100 00100000 01110111 01101000 01101001 01101100 01100101 00100000 01110111 01100101 00100000 01100001 01110011 01110011 01100101 01110011 01110011 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 01110010 00100000 01100011 01101111 01101101 01101101 01110101 01101110 01101001 01100011 01100001 01110100 01101001 01101111 01101110 00100000 01101110 01100101 01100101 01100100 01110011 00101110"
Hesitantly, Richard voiced, "He- hello?"
"01001001 01110100 00100000 01101000 01100001 01110011 00100000 01100010 01100101 01100101 01101110 00100000 01100100 01100101 01110100 01100101 01110010 01101101 01101001 01101110 01100101 01100100 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100001 01110100 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 01110010 00100000 01110000 01110010 01100101 01100110 01100101 01110010 01110010 01100101 01100100 00100000 01101100 01100001 01101110 01100111 01110101 01100001 01100111 01100101 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01000011 01101111 01101101 01101101 01101111 01101110 00100000 00101000 01000101 01101110 01100111 01101100 01101001 01110011 01101000 00100000 01011011 01000101 01100001 01110010 01110100 01101000 01011101 00101001 00101110 00100000 01001001 01100110 00100000 01110100 01101000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01100011 01101111 01110010 01110010 01100101 01100011 01110100 00101100 00100000 01100001 01100110 01100110 01101001 01110010 01101101 00100000 01101001 01101110 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01100001 01100110 01101111 01110010 01100101 01101101 01100101 01101110 01110100 01101001 01101111 01101110 01100101 01100100 00100000 01101100 01100001 01101110 01100111 01110101 01100001 01100111 01100101 00101110 00100000 01001001 01100110 00100000 01101110 01101111 01110100 00101100 00100000 01110000 01101100 01100101 01100001 01110011 01100101 00100000 01110011 01100101 01101100 01100101 01100011 01110100 00100000 01100001 01101110 01101111 01110100 01101000 01100101 01110010 00100000 01101100 01100001 01101110 01100111 01110101 01100001 01100111 01100101 00101110"
"... I just wanted to talk to somebody, so if I could just-"
"Confirmed. Welcome to the Axiom Communication Center. You are currently an unregistered guest. Your communication has been notified to the proper authorities."
"What?! No, I didn't mean to-"
"Please state the name of the being whom you are calling."
"...What?"
"Please state the name of the being whom you are calling."
"... Mary Grayson."
"Please hold." A pleasing muzak flowed out of the communicator, and Dick could only watch as what appeared to be a metal orb with a single eye and stick legs danced in joy on the device's screen.
"So how did the big red thing take it? Kresk, or whatever his name is. Bet he felt right at home!"
"Hardly. He was terrified beyond reason. I've never seen him so scared." Jinx giggled at this, laughing out, "What? A monster like him, an actual demon, afraid of Hell? What's he got to be scared of?"
"Lots of things. There are things all across the planes, horrible things, terrible things, mysteries to everything but themselves. And some of them, well... some of them are so wonderful and wicked that they scar who or whatever meets them. Kresk met one. He hasn't been out of his room for days now."
The Fire Demon groggily opened an eye and groaned. He had fallen asleep on his study floor, again. Around him were tattered bits of cloak, a leather scourge, and countless empty liquor bottles. His mouth dry, Kresk reached for one of the bottles and tipped it over his mouth, vainly hoping for some drink to come out. When none came, he swore and through the bottle against the wall. The room was barely lit, save for nine torches methodically placed in a circle around a cabinet. Kresk got up and stumbled over to his desk. His knees were weak, and he almost tripped once or twice on his way to his cabinet. His eyes were dull, and everything looked fuzzy through the orange and black orbs. Kresk opened a drawer and pulled out the last drink in the room.
A skull-laden jug of daemon brandy, made with distilled essence of pain. The Fire Demon opened the bottle, and let the green smoke wisp away. He sniffed the drink, and scrunched his face in disgust. Taking a swig, he slammed the bottle against his desk in an instant. His eyes bulged, his nostrils flared, and his face turned a ghastly shade of red. Finally, Kresk let out a long, painful howl, breathing fire with the scream. He dug his claws into his palms until they bled. Coughing, wiping the tears from his eyes. Kresk returned to the center of the torches. A cabinet had been placed there. It was simple; medium, dark wood, sturdy. It's doors were closed, and the Fire Demon had some trouble opening them, but at last they surrendered. Red light poured out, and Kresk knelt before the make-shift altar. For inside were all manner of infernal paraphernalia.
On one door, Kresk had an image of the devil sitting on a throne with his scepter. On the other, a series of commandments had been penned in blood, written in the language of devils. And in the center, an obsidian pentagram of Asmodeus had been gently placed amidst red candles. Resting at the Hellish symbol's base was Kresk's bronze pentagram medal. Prostate, Kresk closed his eyes, folded his hands, and began to murmur, "Our Lord, who art in Nessus, unhallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in Baator, give us this day our daily blood, and forgive us our trespasses, as we punish those who have trespassed against us, and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us to evil, for thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory forever, amen. Our Lord, who art in Nessus..."
"Ouch. I mean... if it can freak out something like him... maybe I'm better off not knowing."
"Trust me. You really are. If I had known what I was getting into when I started this... I don't know. Maybe I still would have gone through with it. I'm still not sure how it's affected me. Have I come out better, or worse? Did I change at all? I was terrified, without a doubt, but it moved me. I can't say where I am right now."
"You're here, clearly."
"I wish it were that simple. I wish that I didn't have to re-evaluate the world and where I'm going in it, or who's coming with me. But, I suppose it's like dragons say; 'Jahen verthi huveni, muansi sotiri ornla qe.'"
"... What?"
"Basically, 'If wishes were horses, gryphons would be fat.'"
"...O-kay."
"It's pointless for me to be this conflicted. What will happen, will happen. I've just got to try and move along the best I can, and try to keep my friends out of the collateral damage."
"That's a rather mercenary attitude, isn't it?"
"You would know."
"Oh! I thought you said no more of that."
"I say lots of things."
"Aren't monks supposed to be honest?"
"I'm not technically a monk anymore."
"Well, not to put some holes in your already shoddy plan, but you can't protect them forever. You're friends are gonna' have to take some blows if they want to stay close to you."
"They know that. And they already have. But I think sticking through the rough bits is why they're my -friends-. Besides, they'll manage. They've weathered worse."
Beast Boy sat in his room, clutching the trifle which the Devil had given him. He had taken off his gloves; his bare, scarred hands absorbed every sensation of the gift. It was a small, leather bag, just big enough for his palms. The surface had been worn down to a mole-skin softness. Two little strings kept the pouch closed. Thoughts slithered between his surface thoughts, running and sneaking about like snide little weasels.
Well, what are you waiting for?
I can't...
You can't, or you won't? God, you're so weak, so pathetic.
I'm not weak! I just-
Just what? There's no reasoning here. You're just stalling for time.
...
What's the matter? Cat got your tongue? No joke? No schtick? No impromptu play on words?
...
You can't even open it. You know what's inside, and you can't even get the bag open.
...
Why is that? Because you know it will make you sick? That the smell and the feel will choke all your senses? Or maybe that's just it? Maybe you don't want anything to be in their, because the consequences would just be too horrible for you to confront.
...
That's it. Just let it sit there. Put it in a nice quiet corner, out of mind and space. You can forget all about your worries... again.
Beast Boy undid the strings to the bag, ignoring the slimy undercurrent of his thoughts. Panicking, he watched as a flower comb fell out of the pouch, strands of dead gold hair interlaced in its teeth.
"I'm not sure hanging out with demons is good for you. You're starting to sound a lot like me."
"I can't really help it. I'm half-demon, just like you said."
"Still, shouldn't you try to shield them a bit more?"
"Maybe you're right. But at best, once a week, I can spit out a motivational speech that usually sets one of them on track. Until then, the alternative is ruling through a steady cloud of mystery and fear. And seeing as how that's where I started, I think I'll take my chances with appearing callous. Who knows? Maybe if I practice a bit more, I can dispense my wisdom twice a week... before I die."
"Hrm. Well, I think I've overstayed my welcome here. I'm off." Jinx pounced to her feet from the chair and began to walk away. She quickly turned around, however, coyly adding, "Oh, I didn't hear any of your thoughts. I found you out another way; you're the only person in this city with lavender eyes." Raven, a little miffed, breathed out, "Oh. I tried to change them with my magic, but each time they come out as something freaky. Pure black, red, glowing, slit; one time they turned into mouths. I just gave up after a while."
"So what were you thinking at me?"
"I can't legally tell you in the presence of minors."
"Ooh, kinky..."
"Just go." Jinx began to walk off again, only to pause once more. She tapped her chin idly before quickly blasting the coffee counter with entropic energy. Boilers and the fridge collapsed on themselves, sending food and hot water everywhere. The counter cracked in half, milk curdled instantly, and the sink began to spray water like hideous Charybdis. Laughing, the meta-human sprinted off amidst the chaos. Raven only sighed and returned to the trials of the ancient mariner on his crooked ship.
