I cough, my throat and tongue feeling dry. Crying your eyes out tended to dehydrate you I guess...
Since both Poison Ivy and I were both hooked up to odd beeping machines, I assumed that this was all some sort of medical or recovery room, similar to how places of worship worked for those who could afford it or perhaps an apothecary run by a doctor. Or maybe it was more like an apothecary, considering there's only two medical cots set up.
Herb, can you get me some water?
A wave of excitement and relief from my connection with the little sprite. The way it was ever so slightly muffled told me that my familiar had fled to the Feyw- No, the Fair Lands while Batman and his people took care of me. M'lord! You're awake! Water, water…. Please wait a moment!
Ten boring minutes pass, before Herb flutters out into the material plane, carrying a white waterskin with him. "I have brought you water, M'lord!"
Ivy groaned off in the background, but she didn't seem too keen on getting up from her medical bed. Maybe I should see if Herb could get her some fae plants as an apology...
"Thank you, Herb." I take the, surprisingly light, waterskin from my familiar, opening the… is this a mithril cap?! "Where did you get this, Herb?"
"Ah! I was gifted it from the Fey Lady Le'gartha, m'lord! During one of her leisurely picnics with her husband, Lord Mystrum!"
…
I'm suddenly very glad I haven't drunk anything yet. "How did you gain the favor of a Fey Lady?"
"I lied, and said that her maid was sleeping with her husband! She gave it to me as a fair trade!"
"…"
"…"
"…"
…
"I'm sorry, you what?"
"M'lord desired water! So Herb lied to get it for you!"
...oh my god, he's so proud of himself…all sparkly eyes and smiles, just like a puppy...
I glance at the pearly white waterskin with my Eldritch Sight.
Sure enough, it's a magical item. Conjuration magic, probably so that it never runs out… What's even inside of this?!
"...Herb, does she know who you are?"
"No, m'lord! She believes she was speaking to a wind spirit by the name of Felderwin!"
...at least this couldn't be traced directly to me?
--
Zatanna watched as her father ran around the Shadowcrest library, searching for some book or other in this near endless hall of shelves and scroll cubbies.
"Hey dad, are you looking for something?" She called out from her chair by the fireplace. What could have her dad in such a rush anyway? As far as she knew, today was a day off for him after performing his act for the Vegas Strip.
It's probably a League thing.
"Ah, Zatanna. You wouldn't have happened to see where the books on the fair folk went by any chance have you?"
"Have you looked in the South Wing?"
"That's right, they're with the demonology books…" And so, her father disappeared down one of the many doors of Shadowcrest Manor.
"The fae, huh…." Zattana frowned. "Dad's never actually talked about them, has he?" It was always about deities and locations and demons and learning how to speak backwards like a second language. But never the fae…
Weird.
Maybe she'd check in on those books once her father was done with them. It'd give her something 'innocent' to read when dad was in the house.
And so, the teenage homo-magi reaches under the chair she was lounging in to continue her studies on how to trick the wards of Shadowcrest without leaving a gaping hole in her family's mystical security system.
She had a party this Saturday to sneak off to after all!
--
So. Apparently, the Find Familiar ritual of a chain-pact warlock came with certain… perks in this world. Side effects of no longer having to answer to the ancient rules imposed on fairy-kind and similar otherworldly entities.
Immunity to the magical effects of Cold Iron and salt. So long as there weren't any additional enchantments or spellcraft at work.
The ability to lie, a completely unheard of power amongst the fey.
The ability to disobey direct orders from Fey Lords, but that was sort of a given even in my realm.
Because apparently, with how I bound Herb, he is 'free from all other authorities and hierarchies other than Adam White'. Which somehow meant that he was unbound by all of the magical weaknesses and rules that the fae are normally restricted by.
Like… what kind of trolly bullshit fae logic even allowed this to happen?!
After learning all of this... I just told Herb to return the waterskin, with an apology for 'misunderstanding' the relationship between Lord Mystrum and Lady Le'gartha's maid. No way in any of the Nine Hells I was going to keep something that a vengeful Fey Lady would be able to scry or recognize.
--
"So you really are Selina's apprentice."
I looked up at the little glaring birdie that had just appeared at the foot of my bed. Honestly, it was a little impressive that he could do that whole coming and going thing that Batman has down pat.
Robin and I were alone in the medical… ward? Yeah, medical ward. Selina had dropped in to say hi and drag Ivy off to some safehouse or other.
"Not really? I was her neighbor before she kinda just… decided I was living with her."
That only seems to irritate Robin for some reason.
...Is he trying to be intimidating?
He's a bit too cute to make it work, though in a few years I imagine he'll be able to have a decent glare-off with Batman.
Or at least put up a fight.
"How did you do it?"
Gods, why can't I just spread strawberry jam on Butlerman's perfectly toasted bread in peace? "Do what?"
I take a bite of the sweet, crunchy deliciousness that wasn't even the main course of Butlerman's stupidly good cooking. "How did you pickpocket half of Gotham Academy without being seen, heard, or felt by anyone?!"
Munch, munch, munch...
Munch, munch, munch...
Munch, munch, munch...
I open my mouth to take another bite of my jam toast, eyes locked with the white holes in the sidekick's mask.
Robin smacks my toast across the room in frustrated anger.
It hits the wall, the jam keeping it in place momentarily before it slowly begins to fall down.
Big mistake.
"Butlerman! Robin's being a little prick!"
--
"Butlerman! Robin's being a little prick!" Was faintly heard from beyond the infirmary's metal alloy doors.
"I do believe that's my cue, Master Bruce." Alfred said, as he stoically puts on the black domino mask that Batman had given him for Father's Day. Honestly, it was meant to be a gag-gift, but the old butler had taken it with stride, acting as 'Butlerman' whenever there were people unaware of Bruce Wayne's secret identity in the Batcave.
Batman was a brick wall to Alfred's parody of his duties as Gotham's protector, turning on the Zeta Tube and waiting for it to connect to the network of portals the League had scattered all over North America.
He only has to wait for five-six minutes before the Zeta Tube begins spinning.
"Recognized: Zatara - One One."
And sure enough, the League's magical expert appears in the Batcave, loaded with several dusty tomes. "I've arrived with all of the books that you requested for, Bruce. So, what do you need to know about the fair folk?"
"Why would a fairy be stealing money from a young chlorokinetic?"
"...I may need some more context."
--
Butlerman dragged Robin off to go ground him or something after a sarcastically stoic scolding. Or maybe go give him more etiquette lessons. Nobles and old folk were weird about that kind of stuff.
I mean, I semi-regularly deal with the fey, and I still don't get the difference between the twelve or so different types of forks they set up at the dinner table.
The metal door to the medbay slides open, and Batman walks in… along with Zatara. The Justice League's actual archmage.
Ahh, that's right, Batman saw Herb trying to retrieve the money didn't he?
"Adam, this is Zatara. I've called him in due to some… peculiarities I've noticed with you."
"It's a pleasure, Adam."
...I really, really hope that dealing with the fae isn't going to get me any shit… "Yes, I'm a magic user."
Batman nods his head. "We suspected as much. What connection do you have with the fae?"
"I got my magic from them." I shrug, trying to stay casual about it. "I got myself a loophole out of my contracted obligations, so I'm not going to go spiriting away babies or whatever."
Zatara speaks up, carefully choosing his words. "...I'm sorry, but Adam… do you mean to say…. that they gave you magical knowledge?"
"...well, yes. But I also gain my powers from them. Auberon specifically."
"I see. So… you are a warlock."
I nod.
"A witch-boy, correct?"
"Yeah. That's… not going to be a problem is it?"
Zatara makes an indecisive noise in the back of his throat. "Batman, I think we need to talk."
...Shiiiiit.
--
"Uaaaaagh, this is totally not aster!" Robin shouts out as he throws himself onto the couch and screams into the pillows.
"Woah, dude, what's got you all down in the dumps?" Wally asked as he took a bite out of his foot long chicken salad.
"Paws is in the Batcave, and he's a total ass." Robin speaks into the pillows.
Wally chokes on his lunch. "Kah, kah, ku- What?! How did that freak break into the Batcave?! It's freaking impenetrable!"
"Who broke into the what-now?" Artemis asked from the kitchen, a small plate of cookies set to the side. M'gann's latest attempts at snickerdoodles were actually pretty good, if a little burned at the edges.
"He didn't break in! Batman brought him in along with Catwoman and Poison Ivy. Apparently someone attacked them last night, so into the Batcave they go."
"Uuugh, that sucks... Shit, I hope Batman doesn't shuffle Paws onto us."
Artemis immediately gets defencive. Which for her, means offensive. "What do you have against him!? I mean, yeah, he's a pickpocket, but if he needs protection-!"
"Chill, Artemis, Wally's just doesn't want to be stripped again."
"Dude!"
"...Again?" A smirk slowly begins to creep onto Artemis' face.
"NO! We swore a vow of silence!" Wally cried out, waving his sandwich at the blonde, as if warding off a demon.
"Besides, it looks like the League might get involved, Zatara showed up a bit before I bailed."
"What would the League want with Paws? Didn't Batman say he's just Poison Ivy-lite?"
"Maybe he's magical?" Artemis offered.
Wally just rolled his eyes. "Magic still doesn't exist, Artemis."
"Says the guy with the Helmet of Fate in his little trophy room."
"It's a bio-scripting piece of tech! Absolutely nothing magical about it!"
"Alright, then where's the power source?"
Wally groaned in exasperation as he speedily began devouring his lunch.
--
Huh.
"So you're saying… that being a warlock is rare. Like, rarer than a typical magic user?"
Zatara seems a bit disconcerted by my words. "Your kind are only born once every two hundred years, yes."
"...huh. Cooooolll."
"Which means that there are many demons and other foul beings that will target you in order to gain a foothold in the material world." Zatara said, trying to really stress how much of a deal this was.
"Ha-huh."
"I feel as though you are noting this very seriously…"
"Like… it's not much different from the usual, is it?" I mean, between certain politics, magical bonds, and just generally being powerful people in the world, the Emerald Lions always had something or other out to get us.
Though… having to deal with demons without a cleric is going to be such a fucking pain in the ass…
Fuuuuuccckk, I need an adventuring crew.
"What exactly is your usual, Adam?" Batman asks, finally speaking after giving Zatara the stage.
I shrug. "Murder?"
Zatara looks to Batman, an eyebrow raised judgmentally.
Rude. I've only had to kill like five people while I was on the streets.
There wasn't really a concept of 'usual' in adventuring. Days you didn't kill anything on the job kinda stood out though.
…
Holy shit, have I gone two whole months without killing anyone?
Oh, no wait… The guy I blasted out the window is probably dead.
Wow, a whole month without murder. But to be fair, I did spend most of that time gambling in a casino and fucking around with Selina.
"Where did the money come from? The duffel bag in your room had a little over a million dollars in cash."
Oh, Batman's changing the subject.
"The Onyx Rose."
"You're sixteen."
"Illusion magic."
Batman just sighs.
"Nobruob." Zatara flicks his wrist, and casually conjures up a glass of liquor.
…
I'm sorry, but what the actually flying fuck. That didn't look nearly complex enough for it to be anything more than a cantrip.
