Shadows had hierarchies.

There were shadows that were darkness, the absent of light. With or without a metaphorical presence, those shadows ruled, because they felt more real. You could see shadows slink always and close in after the receding light, you could feel the shadows under you eyes.

Then there are the shadows as in incomplete. When you look at a shadow, there's a outline of what was, or the absence of what is. A shadow of a person who is an echo, with each bounce of sound the original gets distorted, fainter. They fade until you can't see what they once were through the darkness and you can't hear what they say after what they had to say lost its meaning a long time ago.

There was the darkest part of the shadow, the umbra. Then the lighter part, the penumbra. That was the same with shadows in everything, whether talking about the shadow staring at you from the sidewalk, or the depths of your mind that feels darker and colder than an alley.

With all those shadows, lurking around the corner or even inside you, they paled in comparison to him. They bowed down to their king and surrounded him, enveloped him like he was their kin, their master.

With all the shadows lurking around the warehouse, they paled in comparison to Nico di Angelo, the all famed master of the dead.

He still looked so young, he was only three years younger than herself, but it felt like he was still that ten year old boy alone and too full of grief to be living, for so long he had felt like nothing more than a ghost . He looked more alive now than she remembered, his skin was less paler than it was when they were still teens trying to save the world. What a reversal of roles that was, she looked more dead then the master of them all.

She rolled her shoulders, still adjusting to the weight upon them, the costume, or suit. She really didn't care for titles, it served it's purpose. But wearing it, she felt empowered, hidden in the shadows at the edge of the warehouse. She would be surprised if the two didn't know she was there but much more proud of herself.

Batman stood stoic in the middle of the warehouse, cape resting behind him unmoving on his shoulders. His arms were to his sides, his face unmoving. Nothing about his being gave away any of his emotions, his thoughts. He stood like a dark force, static. He was like staring into a forest in the darkness, wonderful, mysterious, dangerous, eerie.

Nico, the long lost to the world son of Hades that stood with his back pressed against the wall with his arms crossed, was irate. When he was younger, after he had lost Bianca, he was so angry at the world, violent. Then he mellowed out as all of the fire and churning anger seemed to transform into bleak listless woe. Then he was happy the last time she had saw him, a few months before Percy died. He still looked angry, like a flashback to when she was fourteen, but it wall mellowed out and filled to the brim with tribulation.

It was like a splash of cold water to the face to see him again, to see him standing there as something like a criminal, like he was back as an outcast blinded by his own darkness. It made sense of why he had come to Gotham, this city was one of crime a death, never a dull moment. This city could be made home but a bad choice for a peaceful life, always fighting something, for most it was their selves. The monsters here were human. You don't come to this city, you win up here.

Nico's hair had grown out from when she last saw him, it curled around his neck and fell freely to his eyes. He needed a hair cut, if he would give her ten minuets with a pair of clippers- she cut that thought off, she shouldn't be thinking about his hair right now, that was hardly important.

She sat there observing them for a few more moment before they decided to end there staring match, she controlled her heartrate to listen.

"You wanted to talk," Batman spoke in a gruff rumble, stepping forward into the light that shone through the window. "Talk."

"Talking to someone is so much easier without actually seeing them." Nico gave a low chuckle and squeezed his balls into fists. "But they aren't watching now."

She found herself stiffening. She had a sneaking suspicion of who they were.

"I was curious about the same thing that you are," Nico continued. "So, me being me, I dug. Me also being who I am, I dug to far."

"What did you find?" The Bat questioned, seemingly more intrigued.

"The court knows a lot less than I do, but they can do a lot more with that information than I can. They don't know who you are, but somehow, you got them to hate both of your identities." Nico sniffed in the cold air. "I killed the talon watching me earlier, the inhuman mindless drones, but I know the court knows who I am and that's very bad."

"How bad?" He asked, shifting.

"They'll be after me, I have to disappear. So this is why I wanted to meet." He pulled a manila envelope out of his jacket. "Reports of all the sightings of the court and accounts of who they are, what they are. Possible affiliations. People who spill tend to be dead the next morning, I would move quickly."

Batman stared at him for a moment, deciphering him. "Why did you do this?"

Nico grinned. "Someone's got to bring these bastards down. I value my life span and you seem hell-bent on killing yourself." He tilted his head. "And your sister is someone I would rather not have in a grave."

Batman stocked toward and grabbed the folder out of his hands, glaring up his form.

"How do you know her?" It came out as a harsh demand.

She felt that she should intervene, giddy to make some noise and surprise them. So, she did.

"He's a friend." She jumped down from the warehouses ledge and to the middle of the two, crouched in a landing.

Nico, for all his expirence, looked confused. He stared at her for a moment before his eyes lit up and rushed forward. She opened her arms and he clutched his limbs around her waist.

"Annie I haven't seen you in so long." She scowled as he said that all the while wrapping her arms around his torso.

"Yeah, and that's why you didn't request to see me before you disappeared. Deathtrap." She spoke the name into the top of his head. When had he gotten so tall?

"I didn't know if you knew." He admitted, pulling away. She rolled her eyes behind the goggles.

"I'm me of course I knew." She retorted. His eyes cleared out and his smile lessened.

"How have you been?" He asked, worried almost. She frowned, she should have never gone away from them.

"I've been better, could be worse." Was what she settled on. He seemed ok with that response, but had lingering glances at her eyes.

"Nice costume." He complemented.

"Nice name, Ghost King." He rolled his eyes and stepped back from her, glancing at Batman hesitantly.

"I've got to go, they'll be coming after me. I've got the perfect place to hide to." The underworld.

"Be careful Neeks." He blinked slowly, concentrating, his eyes went back to me.

"I should be saying that to you."

It started slowly, the gathering of darkness. He closed his eyes and fell back, letting the darkness envelope him into nothingness. Always like him to hide in the shadows.

She stared at the place he had disappeared into the ground, feeling oddly empty. She hadn't talked to him in months, and she had the feeling that the next time wouldn't be soon. He didn't get squeamish at nothing, if he was running then she had the feeling that whatever was coming was not going to be fun.

She tilted her head back to Batman, he had the unreadable expression like always, the ever going analytical persona of emotionless darkness.

"Explain." Wow, two whole syllables. She felt like rolling her eyes.

"He's your cousin, big-shot." He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She helped him out.

"You've been gone for a long time." She turned around to face him, hands placed on her hips. "Alot of things happened."

"Son of Hades?" He drawed, his lips thinning.

"Lots of thing happened." She repeated.

"I feel you will need to go futhur into the events, I was given a very brief summary." He glared at her, earning less than a shrug in return.

"I suppose so." She walked past him, beginning to climb the layer that led to the window before looking back briefly. "Lets make that go both ways, yeah?"

She knew she would eventually get his recollection of events from his life out of him, but it would be difficult. Neither of them were actually good with using their words correctly unless they were quoting obscure philosophical ideas. It made a good ploy for a life alone and a dark disposition, but a hard deal for helping people out with their emotional inquiries.

She would deal with all of that thought of scary talks about feelings later. Right now, she had an awesome suit on her back, a suit that had claws. No right now, she was going to fly.

She shot her grappling hook at the nearest tallest structure and decided for the smallest of moments, despite all past experiences, being a daughter of Zues wouldn't be that bad after all. Then reality seized her and she though better.

The prospect of being airborne for many, for and extended amount of time, is thought of as flight. Wether flying via airplane, with wings or the sorta second cousin Jason, people find it freeing. Being surrounded by air was supposed to be exhilarating, feelings the air pass by you, the sense of weightlessness that made you focus on your heart pounding in your chest. All these things she knew she was supposed to feel as she swung from that building.

All she felt was dread.

She was never meant to fly. She wasn't a bird, a bat. She was supposed to be like an owl, predatory, ruthless and wise. Owls fly.

She sighed inwardly, she was never going to find a name that fit her. It wasn't going to happen. Villains were going to ask the name of there peruser and she was going to have to respond with 'fuck you that's who I am' which wasn't exactly a bad thing, but also she would be missing her chance to have her dramatic reveal moment. That would be disappointing more than anything.

She didn't need a name to fight of evil scum, she really didn't, she didn't even have to come out of the shadows. No one would see her and the Bat would take credit for all of her advances. That's what will happen anyways, so she didn't need a name. No media taking any pictures, no need for one. But on the other hand, she really needed a name.

It wasn't a necessity to need, but one that you could go up to you self in the mirror and say that you were a named superhero, not just another broken person behind a mask of their own deceit and solitude.

But, it was a lot harder than it looked, she had run out of Latin root for owl or wisdom two nights ago. She was about to resort to looking on Google for cool superhero names. It seemed like the only path to be taken. Go on one of those superhero name generators and look until she found something cool.

She closed her eyes and shook her head, looking down over the city before jumping of the roof top. That dread wasn't going to go away and she knew it. Her time was coming up soon, and she had stuff to do before she died, A Court Of Owls be damned.

Her muscles burned as she pulled herself up again, curling her abdomen in at the end of the one handed pull up. She breathed out and let herself backdown, straight into her arm. She breathed in and did it again before dropping to the floor. Not good enough, she had only gotten twenty seven in before her body quit on her.

She breathed out in something that was more like a sigh before using the back of her hand to wipe the sweat off of her forehead. She pulled the athletic tape from the gym table and begin to wrap her hand meticulously, the warnings of someone she couldn't remember telling her that improper wrappings could result in breaking her knuckles. Then stretched her hand to test the tightness, it was satisfactory.

It was a process that didn't need to be described, hitting a bag with her fists, but oddly relaxing. She blew a stray hair out of her face, partly in annoyance.

"Your impressive." Dick deduced behind her. She punched the bag again, shamelessly imagining it to be his face instead.

"So I've been told." She responded, trying very hard not to growl. Despite all efforts, her face contorted in loathing.

Dick, not taking any hints to get the heck out of dodge, replied with. "And now your a Superhero."

She spit out a 'yes' through gritted teeth, punching the bag again. The metal holding it groaned violently in protest to her actions. The bag flopping as if it were fifty pound lighter.

"And my aunt." She turned around then, face flush and breathing hard. Glaring.

She expected him to look like a shit eating asshole. He was an asshole alright, but not at the moment, his eyes were soft as he worried his bottom lip. Working her angles as if he were a mistreated puppy.

Her anger drained a miniscule fraction, at least he was trying.

She brushed past him, headed towards the salmon latter. He watched her as she diligently and carfully pulled the athletic tape from her sore knuckles, then as she gripped the bottom rung of the latter. She tilted her head at him.

"Do you have a point, or?" Her voice traveled up at the end.

He opened his mouth and she stared at him expectantly but nothing came out. Rolling her eyes she looked up at her hanging hands and launched herself up the latter at an impressive speed, even for him.

He watched her for a moment before he probably became self conscious and looked away. Sticking his hands in his pockets like a dejected teen. Was he a teen? She couldn't remember likey because she didn't really want to do the math while all the blood was rushing to her arms.

She focused on the workout for a few more moments before taking pity on him and dropping from the contraption. He was beginning to look like he was going to take his losses and make a run for it. Her chest heaved as she stared at him for a moment, then shaking her head.

"So, you want to discuss my intentions or justify my actions? I'm guessing? I'm usually right." She spoke, sounding a bit to condescending and egotistical in her own ears. She internally cringed.

He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, still gnawing on his lip. She took his nervousness with annoyance, leaning against the metal table still breathing heavily.

He took a breath and stares at the floor.

"Bruce, for the entirety of the time that I knew him, had living connection in his work. He saves lives and counts it as his love and dishing out justice to those who deserve it." His voice never left an upbeat, but melancholy tone. She stared at him impertanatly.

"When he took me in as his ward, he was stoic, not able to provide me with what I wanted, which was an emotional connection. But I gave him what he needed, a light. Humor, I was brighter and contrasting to his darkness."

"But he messed me up, I got fed up with being his sidekick and not his equal so I left. Than Jason died, the second robin, and he cracked because he needed someone to be there, be his light you know? I wasn't it. He was losing himself, but then you came along."

He stared at her for a moment, a long one, contemplating.

"I came to visit Alfred, more like he demanded I came but, when I got here, he told me that Bruce made you a superhero. For some reason, I got angry. I was going to come down and question your intentions, but I came down and I don't know between you punching that bag and doing the impossible on that latter thingy..." He trailed off.

"Dick..." her voice was soft now, but then she realised she didn't have anything to say.

"Look," he cut her never ending trail with a stern consonant. "Be his light, Ok? Bruce is going to help you till he dies, just don't let him fall into himself ok?"

She nodded, smiling at him. She pursued her lips then stuck out her hand.

"Lets start over shall we? I believe our first introductions were very poorly managed and unrepresentative to our personalities. I'm Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena." He took it in his own.

"Richard Grayson, but most people call me Dick. Unless, you know, you want to kill me." She laughed and pulled him into a proper hug, which he visibly had no problems with.

"In our line of work, that's very often." He smiled, unlike in pictures taken by paparazzi, a real smile.

"Also I'm really sorry about that first metting, I was having a bad day."

"I can't believe you called me a whore."

"I said I was sorry!"

"Your father would be ashamed, going around and objectifying woman."

"It was a perfectly reasonable assumption I'll have you know. He used to-"

"DON'T want to know about my brothers sex life, thank you very much."

"Sure you don't, dont you want all of my blackmail power?"

It only took a moment of contemplation before she grinned.