YJC Ch 8: Emotion Dealing

| Salt Lake City, Utah

| 2019 March 2nd, 6:26 AM

"Find anything?", Raven asked.

Arsenal huffed as he rummaged around the warehouse, the various boxes and metal crates doing little to improve his mood. "No. There is no sign of tampering and even though there is indication of recent foot traffic, there is nothing that points to that foot traffic being illegal or suspicious."

This was the fourth warehouse they checked. If he wasn't using one of these, then odds were Psycho-Pirate was either using areas outside of the city or was operating through a series of delivery runners.

"What did you say he was dealing in again?"

The young man huffed, his fingers still interacting with his metallic arm as he tried to scan the place for anything useful. "I don't know. I assumed it was weapons, drugs or some other form of contraband. I figured his operation was in its infancy so I thought we could nip it in the bud."

Raven absently wiped some lint off her cloak. "Mind if I ask how you came to this conclusion?"

Arsenal's eyebrow ticked in annoyance as he glanced at her. "I'm sure you can take an educated guess."

"Lex Luthor is involved." It was stated more like a fact than a guess.

His face hardened. But he apparently performed enough scans for him to turn toward Raven completely. "Well, yeah. Care to hypothesize even more?"

Raven's expression didn't change. "I can. I am not sure you want me to. But if I can understand your thought process then I may be able to help you out."

There was a taught moment of hesitation, but it ended with Arsenal nodding his head. "Ever since Lex was outed at the U.N for his genetic misconduct, it would only make sense that he would enact some damage control. Try to hide things, get rid of evidence, that sort of thing."

He clenched his fists. "But with my lack of resources I could only do so much. The Tea—Other heroes affiliated with the Justice League came to the same conclusion and are actively monitoring his actions and following every lead they can. But they can't be everywhere at once, and even their designated hackers can only find electronic clues. So, I decided to personally investigate Lex Corps' board of directors and other affiliates."

He brought out his black phone again, the light of screen occasionally changing color as he navigated to the relevant files. "I found out that some of them have been taking out large sums of cash for something. Several thousand dollars. I followed one and discovered Psycho Pirate taking the cash before leaving."

The picture on his phone showed a dark alley, likely taken in the middle of the night. But the car's headlights gave more than enough illumination to show the villain's tell-tale golden mask. He was reaching for a briefcase — no doubt filled with money.

"He didn't give anything to the man. But I distinctly remember the man's smile as he drove away. Man was smiling as if he was a kid in a candy store. I don't know what they are receiving from Psycho Pirate, but it can't be anything good."

The young woman folded her arms. "How do you know he is distributing goods? Why not a service? He could just be hired muscle. Or relaying and stealing information."

The redhead shook his head. "Psycho Pirate is not particularly skilled in anything other than combat and emotional manipulation. If he was doing any of those things, he would have teamed up with someone more capable to help him out. There's a reason he is usually just a henchman. Besides, if these people are trying to hide or steal something, they would not go to Psycho Pirate for that. They would go after Catwoman, Red X, Folded Man or even call up the League of Assassins. Not this guy."

Raven pursed her lips. "So why Salt Lake? And why do you think he may be operating on the city outskirts?"

"Because this is where the villain was last sighted and because there are several swanky cabins and tourist spots near here. If I were him, I would conduct my business out there just because it's away from the city. On the other hand…" He gestured to the warehouse. "If he is indeed dealing in something, then he would need a place to store it all. There are several places that could hold a lot of bulk material, but I can't find any trace of illicit substances."

He gave a small nod of resignation before promptly shooting a grapple gun to get to the roof access. It was opened in a rush as he entered the early morning sun. By the time he exhaled, he saw Raven appearing beside him from the corner of his eye, her black portal almost reminding him of those spots he sometimes saw when his head received major trauma.

"So where to now?", she asked.

"You tell me.", he reluctantly admitted. "Looking at warehouses is clearly a bust. So, unless we want to search at the more high-end parts of town, I think we should go far away and hope your empathic tracking can point us to a woodland hideout or something."

Raven's expression didn't change. "I am not opposed to searching either location. But tell me: What are the odds he is actually doing something out there?"

Arsenal's hand slightly twitched, his face showing a clear sign of agitation. "Honestly? I don't know for sure. But I think it's pretty low."

Raven said nothing as she looked to the west, as clear an indication as any that she intended to head toward the more affluent portion of the city. But she made no move to head towards it, noting with a hint of concern that Arsenal had yet to begin traveling toward his objective. In fact, he seemed put out. Almost as if he was dejected or at least disappointed. "What's wrong?"

He let out a huff, letting a hand run through his mostly nonexistent hair. "It's just that I thought tracking him down would have been easier. I mean, it's Psycho Pirate, for Christ's sake, not some genius. Oh sure, I can track down Lex's various goons all over the place, and even track down illegal caravans far into the desert. But this guy? I've suddenly hit a dead end I don't know how to remedy it."

He clenched his fist. "I know I am not supposed to succeed all the time… but it's frustrating."

Frustrating indeed. Tracking criminals who were physically traversing the wilderness is one thing, but in an urban environment? Both Raven and Arsenal were out of their elements here. With there being no physical evidence to be found, that meant they would most need to find a lead in the world of electronics. Wire transfers, hack attempts, deep web conversations, suspicious amounts of power being taken from local grids — Raven and Arsenal had almost no idea where to find that information. Not unless they went through certain consoles or accessed databases one by one. At least with entities like Lex Corp they could begin by looking into any high-ranking employee or affluent affiliates.

Her stare was nonjudgmental. "So, what if one relatively low-rate criminal happens to continue his trade for a bit longer? Someone is bound to notice if he continues operating or he will move to a different enterprise entirely. Which will in turn likely attract someone's notice anyway. I can't exactly see someone like him avoiding detection indefinitely."

Arsenal took a few steps, not really being affected by Raven's words. "I know that. I just thought that you — we — could track him down before he got his operation off the ground."

"Well, the day isn't over yet.", Raven admitted. "But I am saying that if we find nothing, it's not too big of a deal. Unless he is planning to bomb a hospital, there is little harm in him getting away for another day."

Arsenal crossed his arms. "It may be fine for you, but not for me." As if readying his weapons systems, the holes in his bionic arm glowed an angry red. "Well then. Care to teleport us to the other side of the city? You can do that without much effort, right?"

Raven's cloak gave a slight shake as she straightened herself. "I wouldn't say it is without "much effort"? But I won't keel over again if that's what you mean."

She began walking toward her companion, noting dully how the brightening sky was doing little to warm the chilly surroundings. But then she paused, her eyes immediately looking toward the edge of the building.

From what Arsenal could see of her hooded face, she seemed to be… perplexed? Curious? It was hard to tell. "What's up?"

Raven did not opt to reply, instead floating over a nearby ally to look down upon the garbage strewn strip of concrete and bricks. "There's someone down there."

Arsenal raised an eyebrow as he immediately bolted to the edge, readying his bionic arm in preparation for an attack. But instead of seeing a threat, the only person he saw appeared to be nothing more than a homeless person. He or she was covered in a tattered beige blanket, clearly worn from years of extensive use. The only indication that the person was wearing anything at all underneath it was the fact that this person could clearly be seen wearing a baseball cap of some kind.

Didn't seem like much of a threat. But he reminded himself that appearances could be deceiving. "Doesn't look like much. You think he's trouble?"

Raven was silent for a moment before she started floating downwards. "Not likely. But there is something that is concerning me."

His bionic arm dimmed as he watched Raven descend, surprise coating his features as she cautiously approached the unseemly man (woman?). Due to her empathy, Arsenal thought she would be able to tell immediately if a person was a threat or not, as she had on more than one occasion warned him when a person was filled with a feeling of malicious intent. Keeping an eye on the person in question, the redhead squatted as he continued to keep a keen eye on the scene.

Raven began approaching the figure slowly, cautiously directing her mind to peer deeper into the person's psyche. She was used to being vaguely aware of any person who was within a few blocks from her, their emotions being the ambient white sound that she was forced to wade through every day… but this person somehow didn't register. He was almost like a blind spot, his physical visage emitting nothing but the hollow aura of sentient life. He would be easy to overlook if she wasn't paying attention.

She could tell he was alive and not close to the edge of death. But nothing else. And it didn't seem like the person was intentionally blocking her out. When she extended her mind to probe for mental defenses, she found nothing.

The huddled figure turned its head towards her, as if finally registering her presence, and Raven was finally able to conclude that this person was man. A man with bleak, tired eyes and absolutely no facial reaction whatsoever at her arrival. And it was when peering at his face that Raven felt a creeping unease travel up her spine that she quickly had to stomp down on.

This man had no emotions. Or rather, the man was robbed of emotions. It almost reminded Raven of when she herself ate the emotions of the people she intended to save. But the emotionlessness here was different somehow.

When Raven peered at his eyes, or what various cultures believed was the "window to the soul", Raven sensed the recoiling presence of his spirit. It writhed as if it was injured. This person's emotions had been forcibly ripped from his being, the soul dangerously fraying at the edges as its essence was stretched and extended to the point of exhaustion. Pain, happiness, tiredness, joy. Sadness, contentedness, melancholy. Every emotion had been brutally taken, and now the soul was instinctively recoiling at any self-inflicted emotional stimulus as it tried to repair itself.

It was a much more brutal method than Raven's approach. It was also the result of something that was most likely magical in nature. "Would you please tell me who did this to you?"

The man focused his gaze on her, and with her focus Raven was able to feel the slight stirrings of feeling within him. It ached, straining on the capabilities of a soul that was still trying to recover from what was most likely a harrowing experience — even it if it was a silent one. She wondered if he even had any idea what was happening when his emotions were being robbed from him. Probably not. It was not uncommon for a person to be put into a temporary state of depersonalization when things like this happened.

But his eyes focused on her and he gave her an answer with a dull voice. "The man with a golden mask. He said he needed it."

Raven thought for a moment before her eyes opened in realization. "Do you know where this man is?"

He tiredly nodded his head. "No. But he visits this place often."

Raven nodded her head in acknowledgement before taking a look at his entire figure. "And would you like my assistance in healing you?"

She felt a spark of hope in him when she uttered those words, his inner being practically throbbing at the idea of being rendered whole again. In truth, such minor soul-wounds would likely heal on their own within a couple of days. But like a child who fell down and scrapped his knees for the first time, such injuries could seem beyond awful and even life ending if one had no prior experience.

It's not like she blamed them. The soul was supposed to be sacred and precious beyond all measure.

But seeing as this was clearly caused by some sort of external manipulative factor, she could use her magics for something this comparatively minor. After all: Azarathians were masters when it came to the subject known as the soul.

Placing a gloved finger on his ajna chakra, Raven closed her eyes in concentration. Her sense of time morphed into a slow crawl and she deliberately tried to make her presence as non-threatening as possible. She was here for healing, nothing more.

She felt her magic seeping in, being neither too cold nor too hot, as it flowed to the deepest reaches to caress his inner being. It was slightly frayed. Cracked at the edges. But it didn't reject her spell when it began to sooth and sing with its healing energies. She helped instill a feeling of calm. A feeling of surety. A reassurance of self. It made him feel like he was being put right again.

A shuttering gasp escaped him, feeling like he endured a long sickness that dulled his perception of the world that he was suddenly able to look at with the upmost clarity. And he could feel. He didn't feel muted or like he was living in a waking dream he couldn't connect to.

Determining that she has done enough, Raven retracted her hands, evaluating him for any peculiarities. "Are you ok? Do you feel nauseous? Nervous?"

"I'm… great.", he murmured. "Excellent even. That was... horrible."

Raven held in her impulse to tell him that there were worse experiences. "That's good. Now, about the man with the golden mask: Do you think he will visit this place today?"

At the mention of the Psycho Pirate's description, the man sat up straight. "Yes. He visits any place where people can get overlooked. I've seen him near the homeless shelter too."

Raven's frown deepened, and after seeing he was going to contribute nothing else, she began hovering again. "If that's the case, then I suggest you go elsewhere for the day." Hoisting her foot up, she rummaged inside of one of her boots before taking out a $20 bill. She presented it to the man without further explanation, giving a slight nod when his unwashed hands made contact with it.

He eagerly nodded his head. "I'll be sure to avoid this place for a good while, miss."

With a slight incline of her head in acknowledgement, Raven began ascending toward Arsenal, who was still watching the scene with an increasing amount of curiosity and even the beginnings of impatience. All of which was accentuated by his bouncing leg. "So, what was that about?"

"Psycho Pirate has been visiting this area."

His face brightened when he heard that information, his smile all but broadcasting how grateful he was for this stroke of serendipity. "That's great! — and I want to follow up on that. But that doesn't really answer my question."

Raven had a look of thoughtfulness about her. "Well, I'm not too sure myself, but I have some theories. It seems like he is absorbing emotions from people."

Arsenal looked slightly confused at this. "I can't even begin to understand why he would be doing that. But I do know that if he visits this area often, we can wait around and ambush him whenever he comes by." With that in mind he began walking back toward the warehouse roof access, the action causing Raven to wrinkle her nose. "We're going back in?"

"Yep. If all we have to do is wait, we might as well get out of sight. Plus, it's shady in there."

The hatch groaned when he began opening it, and when he stepped back in, he made sure to glance at her. "Come on Raven. You never were the type to stand out in the sun."

She shrugged before quickly teleporting to her desired destination, the action coming so smoothly to her that within moments she was looking up at Arsenal's descending form as he made his way down the ladder's steps.

It took him several seconds before he registered her presence, and he acknowledged her with a small nod in her direction. It took him little more than few jumps on some railings before he was finally beside her, and his arrival was marked by the distinct clap of his boots hitting concrete.

Raven's expression was still in her typical monotone, but somehow her eyes seemed particularly banal when they looked at him.

"Why is it that you seem irritated?"

Her response was measured. "I'm not." And she wasn't. "I'm just thinking about the man I just treated. Has Psycho Pirate ever done this before?"

"Not that I know of. The guy has performed several crimes, usually by tagging along with someone else. And none of them report something like complete emotional drainage. The closest we got was people feeling disoriented because he used his mask and put them through an emotional rollercoaster."

Raven averted her eyes, and the action made Arsenal give a noncommittal huff as he started evaluating the surrounding crates. He looked at each of them, making sure to identify each label. "Crap. Looks like this is all industrial material."

Raven sighed. "And why does that matter?"

"Because I was hoping I could find some fabrics or something soft like cotton. Make myself a nice little nook where I can wait in comfort."

A silent breath escaped Raven's mouth. This behavior was typical for him.

He gave a sidelong glance in her direction. "I would also make a space for you too, since you are going to be waiting for Psycho Pirate to drain someone."

This had Raven snapping her head in his direction "…I'm sorry. What?"

He turned to her then, his arms casually crossed over his chest. "We know he is going to be visiting the area, right? To look for some poor sap that he could drain? Well, I figure that his "draining" will ping your empathy if you are relatively close by. Especially if you are concentrating. So instead of going out and patrolling every few hours — which will likely get us noticed — we can instead wait for him to drain someone. We can have the element of surprise, save our energy…"

"If by "we" you mean "you", then yes. You will be able to save energy and maintain the element of surprise."

His confident posture momentarily stiffened, and Arsenal suddenly looked contrite. "I'm sorry. Is this going to be exhausting for you? Or is this draining thing not something you can sense? I can change my plans if-"

"No. The plan itself is fine. Mostly. I was just… never mind." She really should be used to Arsenal's tendency to dictate their actions during their little escapades. "I doubt his usage of the mask will escape my notice if he is close by. But I do not intend to simply let him emotionally drain whoever he wants. That being said, I have no idea what will happen if I attempt to disrupt his draining attempt. Assuming I can disrupt it at all, there could be some side effects."

"Like what?"

She brought up her hand, bringing up a single finger with each listed effect. "Like fatigue. Headaches. Internal hemorrhaging. Maybe even a nasty knockback effect depending on how violently my abilities are rejected."

"Damn. So maybe we can do standard patrols instead —"

"All of these effects are unlikely, so I doubt you need to worry. You just need to be aware in the event something goes horribly wrong. Otherwise, your plan is completely sound."

"Why bother attempting to prevent the draining at all? Can't you just heal him like you did with the last guy?"

Her voice took a hard edge. "Besides the fact that affecting anyone in that sort of manner is appalling to me? It is because I want to know how my abilities match up to his. To see and experience how his medusa mask operates. I think it might be useful."

Arsenal still looked concerned but was apparently satisfied with her answer. "Well ok then. Just be sure to tell me if something goes wrong."

He resumed wandering the halls of uninteresting crates, his hand leisurely skimming the worn metal with something akin to melancholy. But she knew he would circle back eventually.

Raven watched his form for a bit before settling herself on the ground. Doing a meditative trance for a lengthy amount of time was not something she would do under normal circumstances. It left her too exposed. Too vulnerable. But it was a different story with Arsenal around. He would wake her if something went wrong.

Sweeping her cloak with a slight flourish, she immediately began hovering above the ground. Clearing her mind of all distraction, she attempted to make her mindscape reminiscent of a tranquil lake. Calm, still and capable of reflecting anything on its surface. She was to acknowledge the emotions of everyone and everything around her, but not take them into herself. To be a mirror upon which the world could invest its spiritual image.

When entering such a state she tended to feel like she was… more. Untethered, but not in a way where she felt like an outsider. It felt like she wasn't just her body that was bound to one section of time and space. Instead, she felt like she was almost everywhere.

A placid dark lake of reflection. An abyss peering into those who looked into her. She was there and around, but she was not with them. Not in the way others were. Their emotions touched and responded to each other. They engaged each other in a series of tangled knots and concaved pathways, ignorant of Raven, who was a mere ghost in comparison. An ethereal and passive observer who was able to survey the entire city from an outside perspective through a spiritual lens.

Sitting in front of a spectacle so enthralling that she could almost taste the emotions of the swathes of people she peered at. She took a breath in the physical realm, and emotions scintillated on her skin, tingling with the resonance of a bustling population. After a while, she became attuned to its viscosity. She knew where it began to cling and where it began to flow away like a river. Where it flared with intense bouts of anger and where it heaved and sagged from exhaustion and resignation.

But what she was here for, what she waited for, was to find that absence. That sudden emptiness that would come from a source she did not know. She had no idea how that instigating presence would feel emotionally, but she did know that before that sudden emptiness came there would likely be a sudden spike of shock or fear. Some instinctive indication that something was going wrong before they became a drained emotional husk. Or perhaps they were magically coerced into a state of tranquility? She really didn't know how Psycho Pirate operated when he did such things.

She didn't know how long she waited. There was the banal calmness that came with long stretches of observation, and she noted Arsenal's occasional bouts of attentiveness, but otherwise all seemed as it should be. There were splashes of animated excitement at the mall, stains of misery in forgotten corners and abandoned alleyways, blossoms of contentedness in most homes and a veritable medley of emotions on the sidewalks as people went on with their lives. People were shopping, eating, laughing, languishing, dying, starving, and so much more. So, so much more.

But eventually she did sense it - that wrenching sense of wrongness. Like a new color entering an otherwise cohesive painting, its sudden presence was very noticeable. It was yanking at someone that was in a latent mire of negative emotion. A place where desperation lingered on walls and tiredness was seeped into the air like a noxious gas.

She tried to reach out, to pry this force away. But she couldn't touch it. Couldn't interact with whatever ethereal force decided to put its hooks inside of this person. She knew it was there. Wanting, thirsting, hungry. She could even begin to see the oily slick aura of wherever it came from, slithering about like golden snakes. But she couldn't touch it. Couldn't wring them away with her will. The most she did was slow it down, the ghostly force of her grasp only marring the otherwise pristine golden visage of what she assumed was the medusa mask's influence.

Sensing something amiss, or perhaps locking onto the emotions she hid deep within herself, the serpentine coils tried to reach out for her in turn. To grasp at a presence it could barely fathom. But it quickly gave up, focusing its attention on a meal that was much more attainable.

It began pulling at the being of its previous target, the cords of his self being siphoned off and strained to the point of almost-snapping. It felt too tight. Too much was going out. The feeling of loneliness was gone, sadness gone, the feeling of my skin gone, the sensation of air gone, the feeling of uncleanliness from the dirt on my skin is gone, gone, gone, gone, gone, gone.

Raven woke herself up. "Arsenal!", she called out.

He landed in front of her with a thud. "Yeah?"

"He's here."

Seeing her gripping her cloak as a precursor to lifting it, Arsenal immediately stepped forward before Raven enveloped him in her distinct darkness.

They came out in an area that smelled like garbage and salt. In a place where cracked bricks served as an ugly backdrop to an otherwise beautiful day. If someone were to look to their right, they would see sparkling a mass of water. But all Raven focused on was the sight of a man in a pirate's trench coat. It was impossible to misidentify that distinct black coat with a red trim.

He was currently hunching over someone, his hands firmly gripping at a man's shoulder. His abject look of horrid blankness confirmed what Raven already knew.

Seeing him at around the same time she did, Arsenal yelled "Hey!"

Psycho Pirate turned around, and Raven made it a point to teleport elsewhere. There was only a soft swish of air when she disappeared, and by the time the villain turned around he was greeted with the sight of Arsenal pointing his arm toward him. "That guy has suffered enough. So how about you back away?"

The mask he wore immediately curled itself into a smile when it saw him. "Ah, a lone hero. I didn't expect to run into you, but I suppose I am done with my harvests for the day."

Raising an eyebrow at his peculiar words, Arsenal shot his arm laser. Psycho Pirate quickly dodged the oncoming laser before he dashed straight towards him, his medusa mask seeming to grow an even wider sneer the closer he approached his target.

The older man threw a few punches, each being dodged and blocked by the young hero who was doing his best to not stare at his face. He didn't know much about the magical relic, but he guessed if he didn't focus on looking at it too much, he might be able to avoid its effects.

It seemed to be working. To an extent, anyway. He still felt something tugging on his mind so that it twisted in on itself with worry. But even though he was not under the mask's thrall, there were other consequences that became all the more apparent the longer he fought.

Arsenal was solidly blocking every punch sent his way, his arms raising and falling in time with each strike he was able to perceive. His form fluidly adjusting itself on the fly as Arsenal took in his opponent. The flex of his arms, the recoil of his hands, the curling of his fists.

But it was all stunted. Borne from a fighter who was having to constantly fight his instinct to look at his opponent's full visage. All he could look at was the villain's torso and feet, attempting to block every throw sent his way while to he attempted to find an opening with his limited view.

Which was difficult to say at the least. If this were a normal fight, Psycho Pirate would already be pummeled into the ground and restrained. But his self-imposed limitation of view shaved entire half-seconds off his usual reaction time.

He felt bruises forming on his arms, and frustration bubbling each time one of his kicks met nothing but air as the trench coat villain stepped to the side. For every punch he gave to the man, Psycho Pirate gave him two. For every hit he gave, Psycho Pirate forced him to block five. As the fight dragged, it became clearer and clearer that he was fighting reactively.

And as anyone who trained under Black Canary would tell you, only reacting to the battlefield is a bad sign. The victor dictates the flow of the battle, not the other way around.

And where the hell was Raven?!

Arsenal felt the impact on his jaw when Psycho Pirate landed a punch, the force strong enough to leave a bruise. The delivered blow even destabilized his balance, sending the young hero to the ground. It was an easy position for an enemy to take advantage of. An advantage that Arsenal refused to leave available for long.

Under instinctive reaction, Arsenal charged his arm canon and pointed it toward the oncoming enemy, the laser primed for a point-blank attack.

It was a bad move. The moment Arsenal turned to take aim was the same moment his body was seized with terror.

"Don't you feel scared?" Arsenal found himself staring at the medusa mask, its golden veneer practically aglow with triumph.

He felt himself freeze, the action causing his charged laser to die down as he felt his own breaths coming out faster and faster. The sudden shock had his eyes focusing on Psycho Pirate's face, his vision tunneling in on the diabolical mask. His knees began to shake, whatever strengths they had leaving them as his muscle began to spasm in a state of panic.

"Oh no, you are not just scared. You're horrified."

His throat began to tighten, his blood racing as he finally collapsed on his knees. He even felt a cold sweat begin to form despite the warm weather.

Psycho Pirate's posture relaxed, appreciating the sight of the downed hero. "It really is amazing how easily I can incapacitate people.", he mused. "So how about I end this little skirmish?"

He raised his hand for the knockout blow, metallic lips curling in victory. But before he could follow through, a massive shade rose before him, its color too pitch-black to be mistaken for a regular shadow. It gave off a slight chill, and Psycho Pirate noted with curiosity that his mask instinctively prepared itself. As if it recognized the presence before him. The magic within pushed through his being with a bit more force, its power leaking out just that much more viciously.

By the time he blinked, all he saw was an oddly dressed girl. Barely tall enough to reach his shoulders. "Defending a friend?", he asked. "How about you collapse in a fit of mania?"

Using an ability that was as easy as breathing to him, he bade her to feel a touch of madness. A bit of hysteria. He passingly thought of the Joker as he expectantly waited for the girl's pale face to morph into a twisted grin as it began to cackle... But nothing happened.

Her face remained impassive. "Yeah, that won't work on me." She might have felt a small nudge on her emotional center. But that's all it was: A nudge. More of an annoyance, really.

Quickly sending a fist in his direction, Raven punched him in his chest, the action pushing back the older man a few inches as he held his arms over his chest. "Want to try again?"

In a bewildered state, Psycho Pirate first looked at the girl in front of him, standing completely unaffected by his abilities. Then he looked at the other hero who assaulted him, his form still shaking. But it was noticeably less than what he was enduring before. He seemed to be calming himself down.

Was she like him? Able to control emotions?

Brushing himself off, he determinedly looked at the shrouded figure. He tried to make her sad. Nothing. He tried to make her frightened. Nothing. He even tried to make her angry. Still nothing. She just stood there, her face set in a stony gaze. He tried to invoke those emotions again, attempting to invest even more power in his abilities. But she still stood there, completely unaffected. If anything, she seemed unimpressed. More curious, however, was the fact that she seemed to be appraising him. Her eyes were intently focusing on him, internally evaluating him as he stood like a frozen statue.

He probably looked like an idiot. Standing in one spot as he stared at her, his hand brought up to his forehead in a motion commonly seen among psychics and other mental fighters. His eyes might have been glowing dangerously with a golden sheen, but the ever-growing frown on his mask showed just how ineffective his attempts were.

At this point he had used his power too much. Tried to use his enhanced abilities too many times. Now his mask was sending out bolts of pain to his psyche. If he continued doing this, he would be spent. Forced to go out and absorb the emotions of any person who was nearby, or else risk complete powerlessness or massive amounts of pain.

He couldn't meet with his clients either. Not when he couldn't give them what they want.

"I've seen enough." With that proclamation Psycho Pirate found himself held by a purple aura as he was unceremoniously lifted off the ground. With a flick of her arm, he was sent into the nearest trash bin, his back uncomfortably being smashed into a layer of cheap metal.

She waved her arm again, this time sending him into the brick wall, and already Psycho Pirate could feel bruises forming on his person. Her psychic grip on his body was very firmly focused on his limbs and head, his appendages being stretched out to their furthest extent as he was forcibly restrained.

Raven hovered over to him then, critically looking him over. Arsenal, now apparently freed from his forced emotional state, followed right behind her. "Good work. Now let's get him all tied up."

He made his way over to the struggling villain, and Raven partially released her psychic grasp on the man as Arsenal made a move to grab his arms. The villain attempted a few blind punches, but they were easily subdued. With Raven forcing his head upward and his legs being rendered immobile, the most he could give was a pitiful resistance.

It didn't take that long to have him handcuffed and disarmed. At the end of it all, Arsenal had confiscated two throwing blades, one Swiss army knife, a drinking flask and what appeared to be novice smoke bombs.

Releasing her grip on the rest of his body, Psycho Pirate's head lolled into its regular position. He glared at her, but if Raven's glowing eyes were any indication, he wouldn't get away by using his mask. Arsenal even made a move to grab it, but Raven stopped him. "Leave the mask alone for now. I want to get a full picture of the situation first."

Her companion gave her a questioning look, but let the matter be for now. It was time for questioning, and Arsenal was all too eager to start. "How did you recover the mask?"

Psycho Pirate turned his gaze towards him. "Surprised? I know law enforcement officials are simply baffled by how this mask vanished from their possession. But the answer is simple: The mask is mine. It will always return to me of its own volition."

"And does it require anything in return?", Raven asked.

If possible, his frown deepened. Originally it required nothing from him. He could use the mask as much as he wished with no consequence. But ever since it returned to him… "If it did, I doubt it's something you could help me with.", he stated.

Her stare bored into him. "If it needs to feed on emotions like I suspect, then yes. I can help."

At this statement, Raven felt a surge of surprise emanate from him, his mask's frown even reflecting his gobsmacked look. Her face still looked placid, but her voice was steeled in certainty. Psycho Pirate gave her a wry look, although he doubted she saw it from behind his mask. "And how, pray tell, would you accomplish that?"

Reaching inside one of her pockets, she brought out a vial. Filled to the brim with misery, it shined as the product of Raven's own brand of emotional drainage. Taken from the very souls of those she found suffering.

In some ways, it was far more potent than whatever that mask could grasp. That artifact pulled at anything and everything when allowed, eating emotions from every part of the psyche. If what it ate had any form of taste to it, Raven had no doubt it would be disgusting. A messy, incohesive slurry that was soiled by its savage technique. Like a cook grabbing everything on a table only to throw it into a pot to make soup, heeding nothing of technique or finesse in its making.

But then, she doubted the mask, as an object, had the same tastes as demons. Assuming it even had 'tastes' at all. More than likely the need to devour emotions was just the price that needed to be paid* in order to unlock the artifact's full potential. "I call this essence. It should be able to satisfy your mask for a time. For how long I do not know."

Raven felt his interest pique, the hard lines of his mask magically beginning to smooth themselves as he contemplated her words. "I see. Would you mind if I ask what it was made from? And where you got it?"

She actually considered telling him. To say that she collected it from those she found suffering. But she had no idea what this man would do with that information. "It doesn't really matter. Do you want it?"

Psycho Pirate was silent for a moment, contemplating. As if he couldn't believe she would offer her assistance so freely. "What do you want in return?"

"Answers to our questions.", she replied. She opened her mouth to continue, but Arsenal beat her to it. "So it's a deal. Question one: What the hell are doing with Lex's associates?"

Psycho Pirate raised his chin in slight defiance. "I was conducting a few deals, naturally. Even a pirate needs to do business from time to time."

"And what exactly does your 'business' entail? What are you selling?"

He gave a slight laugh. "It's not drugs, plutonium, or anything like that. In fact, some would say that what I am selling is completely legal."

Arsenal snorted. "Bullshit."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Believe what you wish. But there are no laws prohibiting me from selling emotions."

Arsenal was bewildered, his mouth opening and closing as he carefully phrased his response. "Selling emotions? Like, you are using your abilities to give them happiness, sadness, anger?"

The wide grins from the people they were previously following flashed in Raven's mind. She thought they felt weird.

"I sell the more positive emotions. Bouts of excitement, mirth… orgasmic bliss, even. People are willing to pay up the nose for their hit of choice. When it's coming from me, money can indeed buy happiness. Where's the crime in that?"

Raven was actually pretty sure he was violating some sort of stipulation. She couldn't name the law off the top of her head though. "Selling emotions may not be a crime.", she said. "But what you are doing to these civilians definitely counts as intentional harm."

His expression did not change as he met her eyes, their true color hidden behind the magical energy provided by the mask. "And? I know very well what the courts would think of me if I ever got caught. Such is the way of villains such as myself. So how about we get this over with, hm? Give me the essence so I can satisfy the demands of the mask, arrest me, and take me to the nearest precinct. I'll be out soon enough."

Arsenal curled his lip. "I'll be happy to escort you to the nearest cell." When Raven gave no indication of protest, he made a move to remove the mask, his fingers curling around the warm metal. Kid Flash had done this during his first encounter with the man, and apparently it cancelled any lingering effects on anyone affected by the artifact.

He gave a slight tug only to find that it would not move. Almost as if it were seared on his face, the metal stubbornly remained attached no matter how many times Arsenal tried to remove it. He grabbed the mask from several different angles, even placing a hand on the villain's shoulders in an attempt to wrench it free.

He finally stopped trying with an exasperated grunt. "Seriously?! Did you have this thing melt onto your face or something?!"

"No. My treasure simply doesn't want to part from me.", was his irritable reply.

Raven frowned. It was clear to her now that this mask had increased in power and was apparently determined to stay with its current wielder until it had its due. She had to give him some credit though, despite the mask undoubtedly spearing his mind with its magical grasp, the man was hiding the pain well. Or he was desensitized to such hostility. Neither circumstance bode well. "Stop trying, Arsenal. It can't be removed conventionally."

He clicked his tongue. "Can't you do something about that?"

Raven removed the vial's lid, taking care to make sure none of its contents were spilled as she guided it to where the mask's mouth opening was. It even widened the gap so the man's lips could actually be seen. She doubted he would be afflicted with the bottled emotions for very long. The mask was far too hungry for it.

Her companion looked incredulous. "That's not what I had in mind."

"I know that. But if that mask really wants emotions, then this is the best way to satisfy it. There is no need for this man to continue suffering if we can prevent it."

Arsenal's mouth turned into a sneer, an old argument about to come out of his lips. But he was interrupted. "Also, someone is approaching us. But this someone is focused and… curious? They are heading this way, in any case."

Raven ran a few possibilities in her head. Was a police officer coming to investigate? It was possible, but she had no idea what could lead him to this otherwise abandoned alley. A curious civilian who heard them fighting? That would be annoying. A meta? She didn't think Salt Lake City even had its own vigilante, but it would not be unheard of since more of them were popping up lately. Hopefully Arsenal would be able to deal with them.

She reached her hand out to grab the mask herself, making sure to pause for a moment as she attempted to evaluate the artifact with her extrasensory abilities. She felt the familiar hum of magic, felt how it had indeed bonded with its current user, and how it desired to feed off of emotions. But other than that, she knew nothing about it. It seemed satisfied for the time being, but she had no idea how long it would last. Or if Psycho Pirate would be suffering from any further effects.

The mask came off with a small 'clink', its removal being accompanied by the sound of metal brushing against fabric. With the golden mask now removed, Raven saw an older man. He was not elderly, but he was certainly in his late 30s to mid-40s. He had a shaved head, and his face looked to be a mixture of relief, sadness, acceptance and even a dash of arrogance. He probably assumed his confinement in a prison cell would not last that long. Which likely accounted for his lack of a continued struggle, although it was clear he was miffed at being caught at all.

Arsenal gave a look at the magical artifact in her hand and remarked "Well that's just not fair."

With a stony expression on her face, Raven quickly handed the mask over to him. "If what Psycho Pirate said is true, this mask will attempt to come back to his possession eventually. So, unless you can get someone to seal it somewhere, don't be surprised if he breaks out."

The young man turned the mask in his hands. "Oh, don't worry. I know a few people who can deal with magical stuff." He noticed the soft swish of her cloak as she turned away. "And before you teleport yourself away to some obscure location, do you mind hanging out for a bit? I think I know who is coming this way."

She turned her head. "Is it a threat?"

He snorted. "No. He can be a pain in the ass. But I think your presence would be appreciated."

She almost raised an eyebrow at that. She ended up relaxing her stance as she situated herself by the nearest wall. Just behind Arsenal and their recently captured quarry, tucked neatly into the shadows provided by the bright sunshine. It was enough to be seen by any onlooker, but not enough to be put into focus.

A few moments later, a dark figure made solid impact on the ground, causing a loud thump to be heard in the alley. But it wasn't as loud as she thought it would be. It sounded rather light, actually. Like this person knew how to fall from large heights.

He straightened himself out with a large amount of fluidity, and Raven noted that his athletic build was heavily accentuated by his padded black uniform. A uniform that held a blue bird emblazoned on the chest. "Hey Arsenal! I see you are still doing well."

He didn't turn his head in her direction, but she felt his curiosity increase.

Arsenal glowered at him as he guided Psycho Pirate into a standing position. "And I see you still won't leave me alone. I already told you 'no' several times, Nightwing."

Nightwing's smile didn't falter, but he did incline his head slightly in mock hurt. "Believe it or not, I actually didn't come here for you. I came here for Psycho Pirate. Or his mask, more specifically. But seeing you here is a definite plus. I've been trying to find you."

The former archer raised his eyebrow as his glare hardened. "Maybe that's because I've been trying to avoid you. And why are you after Psycho Pirate anyway?"

He shrugged. "Well, when a magical artifact suddenly disappears without explanation, that tends to attract some notice. Zatanna performed a locator spell and determined that the mask teleported itself near this city. So, since I had some time on my hands, I thought I could go ahead and track it down. But imagine my surprise…" Somehow his smile got even wider and brighter. "— that I found you here too. Which is odd. Because the last time the zeta logs tracked you was when you went to Oregon. You don't have access to boom tubes either." His gaze notably shifted in her direction.

Looking exasperated, Arsenal pointed his finger at the other man's face with a heated scowl. "First off, stop tracking where I head off to. It's annoying. Second, how I got here is none of your business. And third—" He pointed towards her. "This is Raven. She's psychic."

He flashed her a smile. "Can she teleport too?"

"I'm sure you already know." He irritably replied.

He walked up to her, extending a hand in greeting. "Nightwing. It's a pleasure to meet you." His jovial personality didn't feel forced, but it was still off-putting. Perhaps she had been hanging out with Arsenal for too long, but should a person really be this… bright?

She shook his hand in return. "Raven."

She didn't know much about Nightwing. CBI records indicated that he primarily operated in the Gotham suburb of Bludhaven* and that he was a skilled martial artist, but other than that his profile was pretty scarce. Although there was speculation that he might be affiliated with the Batman, simply because he operated within his city.

He wasn't with the League. Nightwing was not registered as a former League protégé either. So why did he have access to the Justice League's zeta tubes and its logs?

"A woman of a few words I see.", he remarked. He still seemed to be genuine, but her empathy quickly picked up his sense of caution. "And not to seem rude, but would you mind leaving me and Arsenal alone for a bit? Take Psycho Pirate with you too, I want to talk to Arsenal about a private matter."

She stared at him a moment before quietly nodding. She walked over to the bound man, fully intending to teleport with him to a nearby rooftop. But as she did so, she noted Arsenal's irritation and promptly ignored it. Whatever his problem with the man was, it was clear he meant no harm. Plus given his presumed affiliation with the League it was likely important. She'd just teleport a little way off and monitor the situation. She made a turn to leave, fully intending to fly off to the nearest rooftop. But a firm grip on her arm stopped her.

"Oh no you don't.", Arsenal said sternly. She thought he was irritated at Nightwing, but something told her it was just as much directed at her... for some reason. His grip caused her to glare at him, the seemingly insignificant action being more than unwelcome. He knew she didn't like being touched without permission.

With a momentary pause they made eye contact, and Raven found herself resituating herself to look at the men before her as Arsenal let her go. He turned his attention on Nightwing then, his voice taking on a serious edge. "Look, I know what you are going to ask, and the answer is still no. I have no interest in rejoining your group right now."

Nightwing looked nonplussed. "Ah…right. Listen, Psycho Pirate really shouldn't listen in on this." He gestured toward the villain, the man in question looking inquisitively between all parties present as he listened in the conversation.

A loud and definite 'THWACK' erupted through the alleyway as Arsenal gave him the strongest punch he could muster. The blow left the man's face bruised, and it was abundantly clear by the sound and the man's closed eyes that it was enough to leave him knocked out for a while. Raven even internally winced.

"Problem solved.", Arsenal stated.

Nightwing didn't look pleased at the situation. "Uh… right. Anyway, I know you said no. But I really think you could help us. We are going through a few changes right now and the Team could really use someone new."

An almost-snarl came from Arsenal's lips. "New, huh? If you recall, I was part of your Team at one point. Didn't work out.", he ground out.

Nightwing's demeanor finally took a turn, his face finally shifting into something serious. "That was a long time ago. You've grown. You have matured and grown past that period of your life. And I thought you didn't hold that against me anymore?"

Arsenal's tone lessened for a moment. "I don't. I may have been angry at first, but I had to move on."

"Then why don't you consider—"

Arsenal raised his voice. "Because I don't want to go back! It's that simple. I actually have a pretty decent thing going on here."

There was a tense silence, the two acquaintances looking at each other as their words sank in. The two were so focused on each other, it was like Raven wasn't even there. Eventually Arsenal took a deep breath, his exhale seemingly diluting the tenseness of the situation. "Look. I know you want me back because of recent events, but I can't help you. Although if you want my opinion…"

He gestured towards Raven. "You'd take her instead."

Surprise flared in Nightwing, and Raven was about to tell Arsenal off, but the young man quickly put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her a little closer to the dark-clad hero. His pushes almost seemed eager, enthusiastic even. "You see, Raven here is actually pretty good at fighting and tracking. Intelligent mind too. Don't let her personality fool you either, she can work with people if she spends time with them. But she's even better at getting in and out of hostile zones without anyone noticing. Perfect for covert ops."

Raven could only blink, her quick retort being smothered by the fact Arsenal was practically presenting her to a man she barely knew.

Nightwing gave her a quick appraisal, his gaze briefly giving her a once over. She didn't know what there was to look at. With her hood up and her cloak shrouding most of her body, there shouldn't be much to see.

Finally, he spoke. "Well… I can't say I'm opposed to the idea. But what prompted you to vouch for her? You don't seem like the sort to take a protégé."

His grip on her shoulders remained firm, as if simultaneously begging and demanding her to not budge from this spot. "She is not my protégé. She's a friend. A friend who has worked beside me before and watched my back when things got tough. I just believe she can do more good with your Team than staying on her own."

Nightwing looked contemplative, his shoulders relaxing to make him look less tense. Wafts of air left his nose as he exhaled, and the tall man ended up looking at her through his masked eyes. "How about this: I'll take a week to discuss things with my teammates and do a bit of research."

Raven tensed.

Nightwing gave a pointed look at Arsenal's grip. "And Raven here will take the week to decide if joining up is something she actually wants to do." He turned his gaze back to her. "It will also give you the opportunity to make arrangements at home. I imagine you have school to worry about, but you should know we can make it work timewise. We have people coming in from several time zones and separate school schedules, so you don't have to worry about us encroaching on your daily routine."

He gave her a warm smile, but this one seemed a bit apologetic. "There are a few questions I have to ask, though. Namely, how old are you?"

Raven pursed her lips, wondering if she should give him a fake answer. "I'm 14."

"Seems about right.", he said. "You should know that we prefer to have proof of consent from a parent or guardian when a minor begins operating with us."

The words burst out of her mouth. "What if I can't give you that?"

Nightwing's eyebrows rose, his tone finally taking on a note of something other than amicability. "Well…that's a problem. There are certain circumstances where that permission is not needed, but I suspect that doesn't apply to you."

"Her guardian already lets her operate as a hero." Arsenal interjected. "So, she most likely won't care if she joins a hero group."

Nightwing shook his head. "That is great and all, but we need actual proof of that. We're trying to operate as cleanly as possible now*."

Arsenal almost scoffed at that but held his tongue. "Right… What about Canary?"

The older hero's smile did not quite reach his eyes, but he nodded. "If privacy is really that much of a concern, we can send Canary out as a representative to confirm she has permission. The details of her visit will be kept purely confidential. I can have Arsenal make arrangements for her visit, if you want."

Raven found herself giving out a small breath. "I would prefer that. Assuming I even agree to this, she can come as early as Thursday."

"I'm sure she is available at that time.", he said.

Seeing that his impromptu plans were being set in motion, Arsenal finally retracted his hands, a pleased smirk plastered on his face. His response, combined with his absolutely triumphant emotions compelled Raven to give him a sharp jab to his chest.

With an amused chuckle escaping his throat, Nightwing gave the two a friendly wave. "Well, it looks like everything's settled. I'll check in with Arenal and Black Canary on whether or not you're in. Then we'll see how you measure up with the rest of the Team."

He then made a turn to leave, his form stepping out of the alley's dark visage only to bask in the sun. He took a deep breath, as if savoring the salty air, before he began darting toward the nearest building. He jumped an impressive height, and Raven watched with carefully veiled interest as he gracefully swung from one rail to the other with practiced ease. His actions were smooth, practiced, and primarily relied on the redistribution of momentum and the fluidity of movement. It reminded her of ballet dancers or professional acrobats.

Within less than a minute he was out of sight, and presumably headed toward the nearest zeta-tube. With him gone, Raven turned on her companion. "What the hell was that?"

He looked sheepish. "Look, I didn't plan it. But I saw an opportunity there and I decided to go for it."

"By putting me up for some sort of team?", she growled.

He swung his head, his tone returning to its usual stern edge. "Not just a team. The Team. One of the few hero teams I actually think is worthwhile, actually."

Raven raised an eyebrow. "Then why did you leave it? You and him clearly worked together in the past."

His lips were set in a firm line. "It was just a… difficult time for me. I did some actions that were frowned upon, and I was kicked from the team. But that doesn't mean I am incapable of respecting them."

"And what sort of team are they anyway? I can tell they have some sort of connection with the League, but other than that I don't know anything."

"To be honest, it would be weird if you did know something about them. The League tries to keep their covert ops unit very hush-hush."

Raven blinked, processing this information. "…The Justice League has a covert ops unit?" Theoretically, it made sense. The League dealt with threats all the time, big and small, and these threats came from a variety of sources. But she always assumed they used their own members like Batman and Green Arrow for such covert operations. Operated on a case-by-case basis that and strictly kept off the books. But the news of there being a unit specifically for that purpose was something new to her.

The ability to form such a unit was not listed in their U.N. charter. But then again, with the League being able to choose their own members and affiliates, there was nothing saying they could not form one either.

"Yeah. They deal with stuff the League want to investigate or deal with, but can't. Mostly because they are dealing with large active threats."

Her voice came out as a dry monotone laced with skepticism. "And this team is willing to take in a teen? Someone who is barely old enough to be a sidekick?"

Arsenal almost laughed. "Trust me, you'll be fine. The Team is full of teens. Was founded by them, actually. And don't call them sidekicks within earshot."

Raven stared at him a moment, processing the information, and her skepticism rising alongside mild anxiety. So it was a team primarily consisting of teenagers?

She could handle adults just fine. They tended to be mature and levelheaded. Often developed enough to remain relatively stagnant when it came to emotional variance. And even when they weren't, Raven knew how to deal with hotheadedness or obstinate pride. But teens? Emotionally volatile, hormone-driven, energetic, finding themselves, teens!?

"I think I'll pass.", she said. Even if they were affiliated with the League, she saw no reason to join up with such a group of underdeveloped heroes.

Arsenal immediately stepped closer to her. "No. You can't just pass this. You are going to give them a chance."

Raven became eerily still. "Why does it sound like you are ordering me?", she growled.

Raven sensed a dash of fear welling within him, but his feeling of determination was stronger. "Because I kind of am. You shouldn't just dismiss these people out of hand, and you shouldn't just wave away this opportunity for you to better yourself."

She raised her head high. "I am bettering myself. I am receiving training, education and —"

"And nothing. Training means jack shit unless you learn how to apply it. Normally this would happen while operating in the field, but you constantly limit what sort of solo operations you take on! This team will allow you to operate on a more varied scale. It will allow you to grow and develop your skills in a meaningful way. All while staying under the radar like you prefer. This is an opportunity that was practically tailor made for people like you." He fixed her with a hard glare. "And while we're on the topic, I also want to point out how I have no idea if your "mentor" really exists. I've never seen her, and you won't even give me her name! Fact of the matter is, I only have your word that she exists and that your guardian lets you operate solo."

A steep breath came out his mouth as his nostrils flared. "If I'm being honest with myself, I have suspected that you are just some talented teen operating on her own. That the whole mentor-guardian thing might be completely made up so you have an excuse for anyone who asks why you are operating on your own. And I'm actually fine with that!"

He ran a hand through his trimmed hair. "But I also think you can do better. I've always thought so… and since you won't roll with me, I thought maybe the Team might be a better fit."

He clenched his fist, fighting the urge to place it on her shoulder. "So please give this opportunity some real consideration. If you don't have a real guardian, I'll vouch for you with Black Canary. I promise."

Silence filled the air, the atmosphere between them rife with the ferocity of words spoken and the suffocating silence of Raven's rigidity. The stiffness of Raven's posture was borne of contained anger, however, but more from a concerted effort to resist the weight of Arsenal's impassioned speech. He felt strongly about this, and while blocking his emotions was becoming a challenge, she couldn't deny that his words were affecting her.

Letting her shoulder curl in, Raven turned away. "Fine. Give me a day or so and I'll contact you."

Arsenal's own posture relaxed in turn. "That's all I ask."

"I'm also leaving you prematurely.", she stated. "Consider it petty revenge for roping me into this predicament."

A groan of complaint rose form his mouth, but he already saw Raven turning into her namesake as she disappeared from his views. She faded away as if she was nothing but smoke, the ease of her disappearance being starkly contrasted by the solid dark color of her essence.

Author's Note: One magic rule in DC is that "magic has a cost". Although this cost can be heavily mitigated if one has beneficial genetics (ex. homo magi). The Medusa Mask has also been depicted as turning its wielder into an emotion vampire of sorts in the comics.

As a short reminder, Bludhaven in YJ is not its own city but a Gotham suburb.

A direct reference to Black Canary's lesson in season 1, episode 05. To quote: "Combat is about controlling conflict. Putting the battle on your terms. You should always be acting, never reacting."

At the end of the season 3, Black Lightning is elected as the new leader of the Justice League and resolves to operate it under higher ethical standards. Miss Martian also steps down as Team leader.