To say this was a shockingly tame party would be an understatement. It was almost… polite.

I was expecting fire and brimstone. Explosions, rivalries, drunken barfights. And there was a little drunkenness, sure, but mostly?

This was downright boring.

I was greeted by a butler at the door and promptly blew past him, ignoring his attempts to announce me or explain to me whatever bullshit house rules Harry was trying to enforce. He would have kept clinging to me and 'politely insisting' I listen to his spiel, but he turned white as a sheet when my real greeting party showed up.

"Constantiiiiiiiine! Oi've been waiting for you, what took you so long!"

An portly shape closer to a sphere in a suit than a man peeled off from a small crowd of maids in frilly dresses who had been plastering on smiles as he regaled them with funny stories.

The Penguin. Already drunk, the man smelled like a distillery, and his rosy cheeks and nose gave away the rest of the game.

He was flanked by Mister Freeze. A huge man in huge armour, which he'd somehow tailored a black tux around and over. He paused just long enough to mutter a goodbye to one of the maids, who gave him the only genuine smile I'd seen out of the whole gaggle before he came to join us..

"Penguin, me old buddy!" I threw my arms wide and we embraced, as I clapped him on the back. Ugh, he really did smell, too, but I grinned and bore it. "Thanks for throwin' this for me. Been a while, eh?"

"That it has! Figured you were never gonna take me up on that offer to drink." He waved a wine glass in one hand, swigging from it, spilling a little down his chin.

"Had a lot on, is all. 'Sides, a good honest man like me can't be seen associating with a scoundrel like you, eh? And how about you, frosty? We barely talked, last I was in gotham."

"...Constantine." Freeze rumbled. His accent was tough to place, eastern european, maybe? He folded his arms, stared down at me, serious, but with a hint of a smile. "You did a good thing in Gotham. And a better thing, introducing us to Harry."

"Not just you I introduced. So what's the damage, how many people actually showed?"

I went to see how many heads I could pick out. The main hall was relatively sparsely populated, at least by guests. It was a huge hallway leading up to a grand staircase to the second floor, walls covered in paintings, mostly of the grand Cooper lineage and all the fancy places the old bastard's burnt down over the years. A warning and a reminder, you see, up front in the main gallery. There were a few 'tasteful' marble statues about too, but I knew full well they were only here for the party. They were too fragile to keep out all the time, when this was always the first room to get shot up when rivals came calling.

The place was mostly populated by maids and butlers, at least two for every guest, waiting on them hand and foot or swarming about hither and yon trying to get food and entertainment ready in the other rooms of the mansion. Though to be fair, this was just the greeting room, not much of interest would be happening here, all the fun stuff would be in dedicated side-rooms. You only stuck here if you wanted to flirt with the help.

And at least one person was doing just that. Some ginger prick in a beanie was leaning casually against the stairs, playing with- was that an actual fucking boomerang? He seemed to be showing it off to a maid who was alternating between being genuinely impressed by the weapon and disgusted whenever he actually opened his mouth.

On the other side of the room, some guy with a staff in green spandex and yellow stripes was enjoying the food. He had a couple of mobsters hanging around him, you could tell they weren't help 'cause they weren't in suits. Harry's higher ups, probably, and was laughing along with them. At least one butler was in there too, and I was shocked the ponces with him hadn't booted him out of the conversation yet for slacking off whilst on duty. It looked like the one in spandex was trying to talk the rest into a game of darts with one of the portraits as the bullseye.

"A couple of extras, but most of the little fishies you tried to hook didn't bite. Only one big haul worth talking about." Penguin groused. His eyes darted about looking for somebody, but it seemed whoever he meant wasn't in the room.

"Ain't either of these pricks. Don't even recognise 'em, you're sure they were on me list?"

"Oh they weren't. But their boss was. Captain Cold and the Central City Rogues. Those two are Captain Boomerang and Weather Wizard. Some of his least successful flunkies. He has the whole gang here, even though only two've 'em'll be talking to Harry. Oi reckon he just wants the show of strength."

"Captain Cold? Freezie, you got competition for head ice-man? That must be awkward, somebody stealing your gimmick."

Freeze grunted, looking… displeased. "I imagine he is here for the same reason I am. Harry Cooper claims to have the technology and magic to… preserve people, and things, indefinitely. It is what we were here to purchase"

"Uh, preservation tech? He's been stockpiling alien stuff, but I've not heard anything about preservation tech."

"His child, no? Thirty years old with the look of one who's ten. Whatever he's done to keep him alive, doubly after a… fateful car crash, I have an interest in replicating it."

Freeze must have seen the look on my face. I could feel the color draining from it already as I stared at his aghast.

"...What'd he say?" Penguin grunted, as I grabbed ahold of both of them and rushed them into a side room, shushing them hard until I was convinced we had some privacy, looking left and right.

"The kid. The bloody- that's not tech, lads. What's he been saying about the kid?"

"Nothing, we're merely drawing inferences. He's a proud papa, talks of his child often. Though I imagine… perhaps he should not be?"

"That's no kid, mate. That's a bloody nightmare walking. I-" I shut up as one of the butlers wandered past, giving an odd look to the two villains and the homeless guy having a hushed talk in the corner.

"I put a demon in that kid. 'S why he's not been aging. It's not tech, and it's not something I care to repeat."

Penguin looked up to Freeze. He paused, thoughtful, and gave a somewhat terse "I… see. Then I may need to re-evaluate my reasons for being here. Thank you, Constantine."

So he's looking to preserve somebody… himself? I filed that away for later. His smile was genuine, though, and I nodded. a silent 'you're welcome'.

"Lemme know if you see the little brat, yeah? Looking for him meself. But in the meantime…" I looked down the long row of corridors, asking "What do I have to do to find some lubrication 'round here?"

"Wine cellar's down the other hall. Where oi got this." Penguin waved the bottle in his hand indicatively. "Though if you want some real entertainment, let me introduce you to a few friends…"

He waddled his way a little further down the hall, wheezing a little as he walked, using his umbrella as a walking stick before reaching a door. He put a hand on it, waving like a showman, opening the door up to wonders unheard of… and went to usher me inside.

—

Wonders unheard of turned out to be a poker game.

Three fellows sat around a table playing cards, with an egregious amount of money. One I recognised instantly. Old Len, face impassive and bored as always, eyebrows drooping like he was half asleep, despite the fact he was holding a good chunk of the pot. He grunted at me when he saw me come in, looking unbothered, like he hadn't barged into my apartment and tried to kill me best mate under a week ago.

The next one was wearing a jester's outfit, right down to the pointy dangly crown with the bells hanging off. They were just decorative, thank god, they didn't actually make a tinkling noise, that would have been infuriating. He wore a shit-eating grin, and a domino mask, had an outfit done up in blue and orange stripes.

Oh, and he had two cards up each sleeve, one cellotaped under the table, another one in his hat and had just used what I assumed was his superpower to produce another one out of literal nowhere. And that's just the cards I saw in the first thirty seconds of entering the room.

The last player's outfit was… understated. Form over function. Welding goggles, a gun, and a heavy fireproof coat that was the kind a blacksmith or welder would wear. I knew him by reputation, and by the fancy gun he'd put up in lieu of cash as a bet. Heat Wave, pyrotechnician extraordinaire.

Poor bastard was losing, badly, and from the twitch in his eye, he wasn't too happy about it.

"Me little duckies, I present to you John Constantine." Penguin announced me, bowing deep. "The lovely fellow responsible for this little soiree."

That got me a round of waves, and I bowed, dutifully, giving a lovely little flourish with my hand

"At your service. So what's all this then, a game? And ah, Heat Wave, Len, I know you two, so you must be…" I extended a hand to the guy in the hat, and he quite literally leapt out of his seat, chair collapsing back with an audible bang which distracted eveyrbody else from him palming yet another card as he stood, shaking my hand vigorously.

"I'm tha' Trickster, atcher service! And hoo-ey, have I heard of you. A pleasure, truly, it's a pleasure."

I shook along, and when I let go I had an ace of hearts in my hand. I pocketed it dutifully, giving him a friendly smile.

"You too, mate! Gave me a scare coming in here, thought I'd come face to face with the Joker!"

He laughed, flattered by the comparison, before picking the chair back up and sitting back down. I put two hands against the table, leaning over, peeking at his cards. If he was cheating this much, how was he losi-

Wait, he'd have a flush if not for that card he gave me. Was he cheating downwards?

"Mind If I join in after this hand?" I asked, all smiles and rainbows.

"Not sure you could affor-" Heatwave started, before getting cut off by a tittering

"Yes!" from Trickster "Of course, it'd be an honour!". Len just grunted and nodded, sealing the vote.

"I've got no problem with that. But If I catch you cheating, you lose those hands, got it, John? I've heard stories about you."

"Swear on me honour." I said, putting one hand on my heart, whilst the other peeled off a two of diamonds that was taped to the underside of the table. The perfect card to ruin that straight Trickster was holding. I slipped it into his pocket, and he had it in his hands in under twenty seconds.

Oh yeah, we were gonna get on just fine.

–

A few hours later, and I was losing. Len was proving to be a bastard to cheat past, I had no clue how Trickster did it. First time I palmed a card he put a hand over mine and actually goddamn growled at me. I didn't do a thing after that. I wasn't sure who had it worse, me, who was in the hole half a grand, or Heatwave, who was down three fire-grenades, two heat rays and some kind of fancy jetpack.

Len was getting ground down though. Money kept trading between him and Trickster pretty fast. Trickster if anything seemed happier when he was losing, and the prick only ever seemed to cheat downwards. Penguin joined in for a bit then pissed off when it was clear he wasn't gonna make any money, and Freeze got bored and left almost immediately. Hell, Captain Boomerang came in for a minute or two, but he only played one hand before pestering Trickster for some ciggies and leaving, so in the end it was just us.

But see, I had a plan. I had one of those heat rays Heatwave kept putting up, and I started fingering it awkwardly, poking at a few of the buttons. I was trying to figure out which one was the safety, mostly. Len winced every time the firing line waved past him, getting more and more pissed off, and eventually…

"What where you're waving that, John. Didn't your mother ever teach you basic gun safety?"

"This's a gun? I thought it was a fancy paperweight."

I saw Heatwave's anger rise a few notches, but my attention was mostly on Len.

"Yes, John. That's a gun." He explained slowly, like I was a moron. "So stop waving it around."

"What d'you know about fancy tech, anyway? You're just a common mobster, ain't this a bit, y'know… Out of your league?"

"Of course it's out of his league. I had to study decades to properly understand the atomic interactions needed to produce heat out of nothing like that." The gun's maker chimed in, a little proudly. I gave him a nod of acknowledgement, running my hand over the casing.

"I don't need to get the tech to know it's a gun, John. It has a trigger, it shoots. It's a gun. And besides, the boss has been having me work with a lot of metahuman technology lately."

"Then how come we ain't seen any of it? C'mon, I heard he's selling his damn kid as super-tech and we both know how he actually managed that."

A pall fell over the table, an awkward silence. Yeah. He'd been selling everybody on the kid, hadn't he? Not just Freeze. Trickster was first to recover, leaning back on his chair and laughing

"Hah! He has a point, ya know. C'mooon, our little central heating unit's been anteing up guns, why can't you?"

"...not mine to give." Was Len's only reply.

"Yeah, 'cause you ain't got none, just the ki-"

Len cut me off with a glare, before taking a deep breath, and slowly saying "...If it will shut you up, though, I wouldn't object to betting a sneak peek. The boss won't mind me building anticipation. He hasn't been lying. The boy aside, he's been stockpiling ways to keep him alive should his… current methods fail. Or should his own life come to an abrupt end."

Now that had me leaning forward. I pushed the gun forward without a word, plus what was left of my share of the pot, and an extra couple hundred from my pockets.

"All in, then."

"All in, heheee!" Trickster pushed an rather egregious quantity of money forward, grinning.

"...Fuck this, fold." Heatwave threw up his hands, pushing away from the table and storming off.

"Sore loser, that one." Trickster nudged my sides, tittering. "Fine, his money's all in too." He threw in the cash Heatwave had left behind, and whilst I'm fairly sure it wasn't his money to bet, the guy was Trickster's teammate, so that was his problem not mine, so far as I'm concerned.

"You'd better all hope you have some good cards, then. Shall we?" Len said, shuffling his cards, pushing his own money forward, plus the implicit bet, and…

I cheated. Trickster cheated. Neither of us bothered even trying to hide it, either. At the end there were two straight flushes and a royal on the table.

Trickster had the Royal.

But you want to know the worst bit?

Len was actually smiling about it.

Why did I feel like everybody at the table had gotten played, somehow?

"Well done, mate." Len grunted, standing up as Trickster collected his winnings. "Come on, I'll take you downstairs, eh? Show you what your boss is paying for."

"Thank you, thank you!" He said, giving an overly theatrical bow, luxuriating in his victory. "I couldn't have done it without lady luck on my side. Hats off to ya, lady luck!" He blew a kiss to the sky, before doffing his hat to bow one more time, revealing a shock of blonde hair with purple dyed streaks.

The hat brushed against my leg as he bowed low, and I slipped about twice as much money as I'd put onto that bet out of it. A silent deal was a silent deal. Cash well earned for slipping him that king out of my hand. Plus, it was a favour I could call in later.

I sat back, kicking my feet up. "You two lovebirds have fun, eh?"

"Of course, Johnny boy, of course!" He said, blowing me a kiss too, and a wink. I mimed catching it, putting a hand over my heart, whilst Len just rolled his eyes at me and opened the door.

"Come on then."

The two headed out, leaving me alone in the room. Well, that was that little bit of trouble over and done with, time to go looking for some more. I stood up and brushed myself off. I could go looking for this Captain Cold guy, or…

I could do what I'd actually come here to do, snoop, find Harry Cooper.

It was time to go poking about and seeing what I could find, I thought. So I got up, pocketed my earnings, and went upstairs to see how many of the bedrooms were unlocked.

—

Harry Cooper was nowhere to be found, and questioning the butlers just revealed he was prepping for some big speech he was meant to be giving in an hour or so. That'd be my chance to ambush him, I figured, but the bedrooms still needed looting, so I went to poking around the old fashioned way, rifling through drawers until something incriminating came up.

The Coopers' rooms were heavily guarded, which left the mobsters and servants quarters, which were… unenlightening. A few tawdry affairs and plenty of drugs, was all. Pocketed a little of the latter for meself.

But the real haul came when I'd just finished rifling through the bedding of one of the higher up mobsters. Some lass' panties, couple of condoms… he'd had a fun night, but nothing of interest to me.

So I turned to leave, opened up the door to go, and found a lovely lady in a blood red dress kneeling at the door I was exiting through and trying to pick the lock.

I stared down at her. She stared up at me.

"...Love, I like having a bird kneeling in front of me, but this ain't really the place for it, ye-"

And she jumped up and put a hand over my mouth, wrestling me inside and pinning me against the wall. She closed the door with her foot, giving me a very close look at her indeed.

Raven hair, blood red dress. Fit, in both senses of the word, enough so I couldn't overpower her at least. She seemed familiar, oddly so. Had I met her before?

Her eyes widened as she got a good look at me, and she gasped out a "...John?"

Huh. Guess we had.

That didn't stop me from taking advantage of her surprise. I gave her a nice, hard knee between the legs. Doesn't hurt as much as it does with blokes but trust me, that'll bowl a bird over too. She half deflected it, taking it on the leg, but she had to loosen her grip to manage it, giving me a chance to headbutt her.

She staggered back, and I took a breath, now I was able to damn talk again.

"Right, right, back up a second, who the hell are you and what are you doing pissing about in the mobster's quarters?"

"You don't re-" She blinked, before looking down at herself and pinching the bridge of her nose "...Costume, right. I'm Huntress, John, just out of costume. Though for the love of god, call me 'Helena' whilst I'm dressed like this. Or 'Miss Bertinelli'."

"Hu-" Okay! Right, I was with her, now! That explained the lurking. And how fit she was.

My eyes trailed down to her legs. Probably the part I was most familiar with, one of the many parts her super outfit left bare. Yeah, that was her alright. She looked like she wanted to slap me for staring as long as I did, but she held back.

We'd worked together during my trip to Gotham a few months back, and on the fiasco that had led to Harry being in a war with the Justice League in the first place. We were on… tense terms, but not bad ones.

I really wanted to know how a Leaguer had gotten an invite to a party like this, though.

I rubbed my back where she'd banged me against the wall, feeling the bruise. "Right, sorry about that. Huntress, really? Tell me something only she'd know." I folded my arms, staring at her.

She rolled her eyes, before off-handedly saying "Betty Boop."

Her brow twitched, and I knew she really would hit me if I commented on that. Or started mocking her again for her, ah, choice of themed diners to hide out in, back in Gotham. But it did the job. I very tactfully kept my face blank and went "Yeah, okay. You're you. That, uh, explains why you were snooping around, then, aheh." I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to move the conversation on. "Don't worry, I'll keep mum. You're here to snoop too, huh?"

"I'm with company, actually. You didn't know about this? You've met me out of costume before, Like I promised you back in the iceberg lounge. Meeting with Penguin? I'm-"

"...Part of the mob. Huh." I said, folding my arms, looking her over with newfound respect. "Now that is interesting. Pretty little mob princess feeding the men in tights info from the inside? That's downright sneaky, by their standards. Hell'd they do to set you up in that position?"

"They didn't. In fact, they don't know I'm here. I got dragged in by…" She shifted uncomfortably, from one foot to the other. "My boss. I'm mostly hoping to dredge up something useful and get out unrecognised, really. And you are not going to fuck that up for me." She pointed a finger at me accusingly, and I raised my hands in defense.

"Okay, okay! I'll leave you out of it, christ. Not here for you or your boss, anyway. What is he, some big-shot? I heard Penguin's lads and the Rogues were in attendance, so who else-"

A voice called out from the hallway. Deep, basso. Rumbling.

"Heleeena? Where are you, little Helena? I've ran out of food, I need you to fetch me some. Heleeeee-naaaa?"

She shuddered with distaste, and went to slide out of the room without another word. That was her being summoned, by the sounds.

Her first name was Helena. Huh.

I went to follow, figuring I had nothing much to lose at least by watching, and absolutely not pondering whether it would be a terrible idea to embarrass her in front of her boss for the hell of it. She whirled on me, sensing what I was thinking.

"No. You stay. And stay out of this. So far as you're concerned, and if anybody asks, I'm not. Here. Got it? You owe me for not ratting you out after what happened with Triskele."

"Fine! Fine. I really will. Wasn't pondering anything." I did my best to look innocent and utterly failed, but she seemed mollified when I didn't follow her any further.

She bumped into her boss as he rounded the corner into the corridor. I only got a glimpse at him, but… christ. And I thought Penguin was a malformed human being. He was built like a brick house and pale as an albino. In fact, he probably was one. He had an ice-white suit and slicked back white hair, and a little goatee hanging from a second chin.

Huntress shivered in disgust as he wrapped a hand around her waist and groped her ass.

"Come now, pet. Don't go wandering off, you're here to look pretty and that's all, yes?" He tutted, like a lecturing schoolmarm, not mad, just disappointed.

"Yes, Mandragora." Huntress hissed through grit teeth, not even looking back at me as the two rounded the corner.

"Good. Now let's find that wine cellar. You need to feed me more chocolates before Harry Cooper starts his big speech. I can't listen to a speech on an empty stomach, you know. All the growling would make it too hard to hear."

That… was not something I was touching with a ten foot pole. Doubly since the woman would have my balls if I tried. I kind of wondered why she hadn't had his balls yet, but… well.

There was a story there, one I'd have to figure out later.

I went out to the balcony overlooking the main hall, back where I'd started. Wanted to get one last look over the building, see if I could come up with any plans that weren't just waiting for the speech. I wasn't the only one there, though. Should've figured. I had one more bigshot to meet tonight, after all. And he was doing the exact same thing I was.

Looking over the hall, and waiting for our gracious host to appear.

Captain Cold was leant against the balcony. It couldn't be anyone else, he was dressed up like an inuit, a full parka and cold weather gear, goggles and a freeze ray. He was leaning against a girl in white-and-gold spandex, presumably Golden Glider, and the two were chattering away to each other, smiling, and occasionally sharing a laugh with their third wheel.

Green and yellow, an understated outfit… and an outrageous scottish accent. Mirror Master, an old mate of mine, and apparent third in command of the Central City Rogues, even if I'd met him whilst he was, ah, freelancing for somebody else.

You know how it is, he helps kill my father, I get him tortured by Poison Ivy… we considered each other even, from what I could tell.

"Constantine, me old mucker! Howsitgan!" He cheered, loud enough to make the other two at his side nearly jump out of their skin. They'd been too engrossed in their conversation to notice me creeping up.

"Mirror Master! Ah, sorry I killed your boss, last we met. No hard feelings?"

"Nah, nah! 'Sides, he ain't my boss, this is! He's just a customer, kill all 'a them you like." Mirror Master grinned from ear to ear, clapping me on the back. "Boss? Meet Johnny boy. He's a drunken scouser, but he's decent enough. John? Meet the boss, Captain Cold, 'n his ball and chain, Golden Glider."

The man himself looked me up and down. For all Freeze was the one in the business suit, he's the one who struck me as a business man. He had that bearing… and he looked at me in just that way. Figuring out my price.

"I've heard a lot about you. Enough to wonder how much of it's true." He said, a little clipped. "Apparently you worked well with the Gotham villains, though. Mirror Master speaks highly of you. Penguin, too. So does Quinzel, but that's not really a point in your favour."

"Flattered, mate. Truly. So you're-" I grin. I barely have time to put on the charm before he cuts me off.

"I'll be blunt. You don't strike me as the type to be here to buy highly advanced guns. Why are you here, then?"

"Forward, forward! I could ask you the same thing." I retorted, quickly. His wife let out an appalled look, though not a very well faked one, hitting him gently on the shoulder.

"Captain! Don't be so rude. I'm sorry he's like this, we've only just met and he wants to talk business."

Golden Glider gave me a bright, warm smile that was sharp as a knife.

"No, no. I respect the hustle, really." I went to lean over the banister, following their gaze, looking straight over to the front door. "I'll put your minds at ease. I ain't here to try to outbid you for the guns or any of Harry's other metahuman tech. I just want a nice chat with the boss-man is all, then I'll get out've your hair. Not gonna fuck up your business deal for you. Though I will say… you're competing with Penguin, down there, ain't'cha?"

The two exchanged a look. And in the back, Mirror Master let out a chuffed little laugh, mouthing"Knew they'd get on." under his breath.

"We are. I know you're in with him. You're offering a deal. What kind?"

"Hopefully the interesting kind. An offer to sabotage his end of the negotiations, perhaps?" Golden glider trailed a fingertip across Cold's chest, though I doubted he could feel it through a coat that heavy.

"Hah! Oh, we'd heard you were a scoundrel, but betraying your friends like that? Maybe you really are one of us. We'd owe you rather a favour… if your 'sabotage' worked well enough to win us our bids. Especially if we end up having to pay Harry a cheaper price than we otherwise would. We'd be… delighted, to work with you, if all they say about you is true. Would you be willing to do that for us?"

"Could be. Need to figure out what I'd even need paying for, though. Let me get back to you after the big speech, eh? Oh, and… Trickster's your lad, yeah?"

I got a nod at that, so I said "He fucked off with Len into the basement, a little bit ago. Sneak-peak at the merch, won it on a bet. Lemme know what he sees? I'd consider it a favour."

—

So that was our field, then. Penguin and Freeze. The Central City Rogues, starring Captain Cold, Weather Wizard, Golden Glider, Mirror Master, Captain Boomerang, Trickster and Heatwave… plus Huntress, Mandragora, Len and Harry Cooper Himself.

And me. John Constantine, bastard extraordinnaire. A right meeting of monsters, this, with a shapeshifting demon child right in the middle.

Looked like Harry was advertising his kid as some kind of miracle cure, some way to preserve the nearly dead or extend life. That was the centerpiece of the metahuman tech he was trying to sell, but I had no doubt he had plenty of other stuff hidden away somewhere. Guns and weapons of all sorts, stockpiled from his little war.

I was already thinking of ways to play the crowd against him. Freeze wasn't happy to find out his magical life-extender was a demon kid, would Captain Cold be? I oughta talk to him a little more about that.

But first of all, I needed to talk to Harry himself. The good news was, I wouldn't really need to do any work tracking him down.

A bell rang, announcing his entrance. All the villains gathered up in the main hall in gaggles and groups, their little social circles. Captain Cold gathered his rogues, Mandragora and Helena, Freeze and Penguin.

But my eyes weren't on them, nobody's was. My eyes were on the man of the hour, our gracious host.

Harry Cooper walked into the building, all alone, announced by the greeter.

I could feel the magic aura hit me like a truck the moment I saw him. He stank of it. Diabolism, demonic energy, bad juju, whatever you want to call it. And I could see the cold look in his eyes. And most importantly, the little way he cleared his throat before beginning his speech. The eloquence of it. The Harry Cooper I knew and loathed wasn't a born speaker.

But Harry Cooper hadn't walked into the building. I don't think Harry Cooper had ever left it.

A shapeshifting demon in Harry's Skin walked in, and that was who started to give their speech to the gang of supervillains he'd assembled.

Notes: Fun fact, Trickster was meant to be a minor character I fell absolutely in love with the moment he showed up in that scene. Guy's a blast to write, and immediately started taking up as much screentime as any other member of the rogues.
Anyway, there's our field! This is mostly character establishment before everything explodes, but start taking bets now! Who will live, who will die, who will turn into a shapeshifting demon, and who will remain Human. And most of all How is John going to get out of this one?