"It appears that your operatives were not able to contain Poison Ivy, Luthor."
"Yes, I supposed I miscalculated the dosage needed to keep her powers suppressed and unconscious simultaneously. You will be sending some of your men, I take it?"
"No. Mercenaries are one thing, but my shadows would involve myself too heavily for the Detective to ignore, especially if she is to serve as one of our patsies on the Injustice League."
"Are we looking towards Klarion's proposal then?"
"Not quite yet. I've chosen to call in a favor. Dr. Isley will be within The Light's power yet, and our operations undisturbed."
--
After watering the fertilizer around Ivy, Selina went off to go find a 'change of clothes', telling me to stay with Ivy in case she woke up or someone tried to capitalize on her recovering state.
Which suited me just fine, my small reserves of magic were tapped with those back-to-back castings of Plant Growth.
Still, I would never understand women. I mean, clothes shopping? After all this? But I wasn't going to question my neighbor-aunt-sister-person, so I had Herb keep a lookout on the park, crossed my legs, and sat down, almost in a meditative state.
Being a Warlock had its perks, while most other spellcasters required sleep (or in the case of the elves, trance), to recover their magical energy, we were capable of simply sitting down and taking a breather, recovering our small but potent magical reserves.
M'lord! Someone is approaching the greenhouse from the trees!
And just as my meditative state ended, my powers recharged, a pane of the glass roof shattered, a dark figure dropping down into a crouch as they landed. He, or at least I presumed 'he' from the lack of curves, was wearing a classic assassin ansamble, pretty standard for Velvet Mask-like criminals. And the ominous bone-white bird mask with beady black eyes pretty much confirmed that this one was an enemy.
"No ,let me guess. Child assassin?"
My Spellfire Bracers start to glow with arcane energy, tracing flowing patterns and runes sewn into the leather.
"Foe."
Four spell circles spring to life around me, two on each side above my shoulders, angled almost like wings.
He dodges one of the lasers of arcane force, but the next three hit him in quick succession, knocking him back against the front door of the greenhouse, but not quite powerful enough to slam him through the glass doorway.
Two blades shink out of his arm guard as his head looks up at me. Yup, definitely an assassin.
Herb, get in here and distract our little guest for me!
He charges, and makes his strikes against me. He hesitates on the first strike, allowing me to dodge out of the way, but he got the second one in, a familiar burning pain of acidic poison making itself known as it seeps into my veins and festers in my wound.
"Nnnngh! Really not the banter sort, are you?!"
There don't seem to be any more assassins with him… And he hesitated. Rite of initiation? First mission?
My eyes burst with purple energy. "Fey magics of splendor and delight, chain this mortal to my will and might!"
Enchantments like Dominate Person were always a tricky sort of magic. There was always a chance for someone to power through the spell if you weren't careful about how much pain you were exposing them to or how you worded your phrases to an enthralled enemy.
And it seemed that this assassin's will was strong and firm.
Fuck.
I dodge yet another strike from his blade by taking a step back, but couldn't avoid taking another stab to the guts.
"Guh!"
"Get away from M'lord!" Herb cried out as he dove into the fray, buzzing around the assassin, forcing the assassin to swing his blades at the nimble sprite in vain.
"If that's how you want to play it…Foe!"
The hovering spell circles fired again, all four of them hitting my enemy head on, shattering the front door on his way out.
He gets up, unsteady on his feet. His fists are held up, trembling with exhaustion and pain. He moved towards me yet again, but he's not running anymore. He's being cautious with his approach…
God damn it, I really don't want to have to kill a kid… At least this one wasn't being possessed by a demon though, so I'd have a lot less guilt blasting his head off.
I feel the poison in my wounds, and a red dragonborn comes to mind.
Meh, I'd live if he got another stab in, probably. Better assassins have tried to kill me and failed.
"Listen to me, listen to my voice, listen to the sound of obedience and submit."
And then, his posture relaxes as his mind falls under my sway.
I smirk at my handiwork, feeling his confused and scattered mind try to understand what's happening, before coughing vigorously into my hand.
"Uuugh, blood." Right, should probably get to fixing those two stab wounds in my stomach.
Herb, go back outside, make sure there isn't anyone else out here. And you…
The owl mask raises ever so slightly to acknowledge my next orders.
Strip down, and place all of your weapons in that corner over there. You can keep any underwear you have on, but that's it.
Hmmm, I wonder if tying teenagers up was going to be a new hobby of mine?
--
"Dammit, why didn't I plant a bag closer to Ivy's place…?" Selina Kyle bemoaned as she finally grabbed one of the black bags she'd stashed around some of Gotham's prominent museums.
In fact, she'd planted this one just last week, having intended to rob the Gotham Museum of Antiquities before.. scrapping it to hang out with Adam after everything she learned yesterday…
Holy crap, she had been planning to be out when Ivy showed up at her doorstep.
Yeah, it's final. She was going to adopt that kid and steal him all of the cool magicky shit this place had.
Hmmm, jewels and silver should be a good start, those were magical right? Maybe she'd work a bit late on Friday, hit up that Wayne brand jewelry shop on Hutson and 23rd.
Oh, or maybe that Egyptian exhibit that was touring in Gotham during October!
--
I sit down in one of the metal chairs, two of which I'd pulled over from the back of the greenhouse.
My enthralled captive was sitting in another chair facing me, tied up with a garden hose. Only wearing a pair of boxer briefs.
Today was a good day.
"What's your name?" I ask him, eyes running over his toned body, green glazed-over eyes, brown hair. Honestly, he wasn't half bad looking, though the shitty lighting and situation definitely wasn't doing him any favors in the looks department.
The muscles were nice though.
"I am Calvin Rose, Talon in training of the Court of Owls." He answers my question in monotone, even as I feel his mind trying in vain to escape my spell.
"Court of Owls?" That sounds like something a fey lord would call his personal little upstart court...
"Beware the Court of Owls,
That watches all the time,
Ruling Gotham
From a shadow perch,
Behind granite and lime.
They watch you at your hearth,
They watch you in your bed,
Speak not a whispered word of them,
Or they'll send The Talon for your head."
Granite and lime… and this Talon didn't seem to possess any magical abilities, unless that poison he used was alchemical in nature. And most at the very least protect their servants from being enchanted with magic.
So, a secret society that controls Gotham? Does Batman know about this?
"Why are you after Poison Ivy? What has she done to deserve the Court of Owls' attention?"
"She and the rest of Arkham Asylum are a disease that must be eliminated from this world, but the court has yet to act upon them as Batman keeps them in check. I was told to capture her alive, nothing more of what the Court desires of her."
Great, so the 'Talon' isn't a member of the Court itself but rather a tool for them to aim and order around…
"Did you willingly decide to become a Talon?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"My father locked me inside of a shed when I was eight years old. The Court works to improve Gotham, to make it a better, stronger, city. And I will serve them so that no more men like my father are allowed to do what he did without consequences."
Oh wow, his mind was truly fighting having to tell me that little personal tidbit. But an assassin thinking he was to become a hero cutting down the evil men of the world…
Well, it wasn't far off from what adventurers in my world usually do, but he's not even picking out his own targets!
"If the Court of Owls was a bastion of good in Gotham City, then they would not train a child to be their personal attack dog."
Why was an 'in training' assassin being sent off to kidnap a supervillain? I mean sure, he was powerful and agile, and those blades had some wicked poison on them. But, shouldn't his teacher or whatever have been sent to ensure there wouldn't be any problems?
"I am a necessary evil, one to save many."
"...wow, you actually believe that dont you? How pathetic. You're nothing but a disposable pawn to them, Calvin, mark my words."
His mind… it's still fighting. But it's weaker now, under the effect of my fey enchantment magic. Easier to make him listen…
"No...no, that doesn't matter. As long as I can help others, as long as I can kill evil people…" His voice has lost the monotone traits, but his mind would still clouded. He seemed to be talking just to himself for now, dramily trying to validate his decisions against my overwhelming charisma.
"Listen to yourself, Calvin, and think. Are you an assassin meant to kill the evil to benefit good? Or are you an assassin to kill anyone and everyone to benefit the Court of Owls?"
"I-I'm…. No…" Ahhh, I can feel his resolve weaken ever so slightly. Doubt creeping into his mind.
"What do you want to do, Calvin? Do you still want to serve the Court of Owls now? Do you want to be their weapon, cutting down whoever they say?"
"I...I...no...no, you're doing something to my head!"
I blink. Nobody's ever shouted at me when I have them under an enchantment. How interesting.
Thankfully, despite the spike in defiance, the will behind it was brittle.
"I've stopped pressuring your mind since a while ago though?"
And with that, I drop the spell.
Calvin's eyes blink to full awareness, only to dim as he speaks. "...I don't want to be a bad person…"
The vulnerability… the mental state… the skills he's been training for years now...
Should I take advantage of this opportunity and twist his mind to my benefit? Or should I leave him with his realization…
--
"Selina."
Catwoman nearly slipped in her highheels as she spun around to see Bruce standing behind her, in all of his ominous, overdramatic glory.
Then she sighed. "Walk and talk, Bruce, Ivy's still healing."
And so, she breaks out into a sprint, followed by Batman following her lead.
Rooftop parkour was second nature to them at this point. Honestly, it was probably more dangerous walking down the street because there wasn't a chance of some idiot with a driver's license running over you in a drunken stupor.
"Who's after Ivy?"
"No clue, she showed up at my place with a bullet wound and hot pursuit before passing out. I haven't heard from her since my last visit to Arkham."
Batman's frown seemed to deepen. "She was unconscious when she raised the thickets in your building?"
Selina weighted her options. On one hand, she trusted Bruce. He's saved her life more than once during hectic times. And he would be good for Adam, especially if he took him in like he'd done with Robin. But on the other hand, Adam had trusted her with the fact that he was a...wizard(?). And Selina wouldn't really benefit either way whether she lied or told the truth.
So, she lied. "It was like that before I opened the door, so no, it probably took the last of her strength to do it."
--
So it was Adam who'd grown the thickets.
Batman had known that the boy was a chloro-kinetic already, so it made sense. And given the amount of potted plants in Selina's apartment… He probably grew them from a handful of seeds he threw out into the hallway, Batman decided.
Probably rose seeds given the small buds deep within the twisted thorns, and a distinct lack of them in his garden.
"Selina, how well do you know Adam White?"
Catwoman trips and nearly falls off of the ledge she'd been about to leap across.
--
Honor Seeker fluttered around the front of the greenhouse worriedly, occasionally looking back towards his lord and the bound assailant before remembering his post and scanning the area for more owl-masked assassins.
It's not that he doubted his lord's combat prowess, perish the thought! He'd had the assailant's life in his hands before resorting to enchantments to spare the child his life!
But… it was natural to be worried, wasn't it? His lord had been struck with two poisoned blades, and only gave them minimal, herb-based, treatment before sitting down and interrogating the assassin!
It was admirable in its own way, Honor Seeker admitted, but still!
And his lord had been hurt while he hadn't been touched! No matter the situation, it should always be the servant who should be hurt rather than the master!
…
...Honor Seeker wishes he'd been born a stronger fey so he could keep his lord from getting hurt.
But he also knows that his lord will gain strength as he ages. Perhaps, he shall one day grant Herb a body more suited for carrying his duffel bags of money, taking money from the pockets of mortals, and protecting his noble person.
And surely, if Honor Seeker found such an opportunity to better serve his Namer, his lord, his master without bothering him of Honor Seeker's selfish desires, all the better!
--
Naming a fey and binding it as a familiar were two completely different things.
Honor Seeker, Herb's True Name, was a result of his words of both flattery, loyalty, and submission to Adam during the familiar selection process, but not an integral part of the ritual itself.
And he'd meant those words too, itwasa great honor to be serving a warlock, a witch-boy that was only born every few centuries under a certain alignment of stars and natural powers.
After all, the last witch-boy had ascended to become a Lord of Chaos after slaying his demonic patron at the young age of two hundred and twenty three summers.
And Adam White was powerful indeed, having been in a constant state of peril and growth over the course of his adventuring career.
But, Honor Seeker was not only seeking honor for himself now. No, ever since he'd been named, he'd been attuned to the idea of 'nobility', of abiding and serving by a hierarchy that was absolute in all things. Of honor and duty. Of bringing honor to those above him and receiving recognition from them in turn.
And as a familiar, he'd become exempt from the hierarchy of the Fair Lands, beholden only to his lord and master, the man who named him.
It could be said that Herb was only beholden to obey Adam.
It could also be said that Adam had become Herb's one and only loyalty in all of creation.
After all, to name a thing is to know a thing. And to know a thing is to exert control over its existence.
So, while Adam's initial assessment of the entity that would be known as Honor Seeker may have been off as far as being a masochist went…
Honor Seeker only wished to please his lord. Who/What/When/Where he'd been before no longer mattered.
