LuckyShadowWolf: Well Virgil just outright jinxed himself!
NeoNazo356: That's kind of the intent, yes.
Superpierce: Love that scene where Vergil is all nonchalant about blowing the gangs up with all that C4
NeoNazo356: Not only was this an opportunity to play out one of my Borderlands 2 fantasies (killing off both clans since they both annoyed the hell out of me), but it was also a chance for Virgil to use his new Sneaking Suit in an out-of-mission capacity.
The need for stealth wasn't explicitly why he wore it, more along the fact that it kept him insulated, since out in the desert, it gets really, really, really cold at night.
*WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS*
Bludhaven
November 14, 13:39 EST
During the course of the drive to the airport, the Fortune Hunters were all wound up tighter than watch springs. Roland's grip on the wheel knuckle-white, the edges of Lilith's visible contour flickered in and out of the present space-time, Mordecai relentlessly chugging beer like it was going out of style, and Brick tried to peek out the rear window as-inconspicuously as possible for a guy of his size and stature.
Virgil was the only one who wasn't wound up tighter than a watch spring, languidly working toward his GED on his laptop while the adults in the car continued to freak out around him.
The first clue that the Fortune Hunters plus one had made their clean getaway was that when they arrived at the airport, none of them were stopped at the terminal. If Creed did suspect the Fortune Hunters, at the very least they would've had an APB out on them, so the fact that they were able to get their tickets and be out of New Jersey within an hour of getting back to the Red Light was very comforting to the on-the-run group.
If Creed could put the fear of god into trained mercenaries, one of which had superpowers that gave her borderline teleportation, he was truly a force to be feared.
The tension didn't really leave their shoulders until it was wheels-up and they were allowed to move along the cabin, an opportunity that Mordecai took readily after chugging down the whole cooler of beer on the way to the airport "so he wouldn't leave behind evidence" as he'd said.
Brick of course being the absolute biggest out of all of them had to pay for two seats, but given who might've been after them at the time and all the money they'd just gotten, it was a price they were willing to pay.
With Brick and Mordecai situated in the back of coach together, Roland, Lilith, and Virgil were all seated together toward the front in the middle, Roland on the aisle while Virgil took the window, the three of them making small talk once they were "in the clear".
"So… You're a U.S. Air Marshal, you say?" Virgil asked looking up from his studies.
"That's right," Roland nodded. "After my time in the marine corps, I took the exams necessary so I could get free air travel. Sounds a little juvenile, I know, but at the time I wanted to travel… but not spend a lot of money…" he hummed bashfully.
"So you guys basically stop repeats of nine-eleven?"
"That's the intent, yes," the man replied. "Unfortunately, there's only one for every hundred flights," Roland sighed afterward.
" . . . Well that doesn't fill me with confidence," Virgil stated flatly after a moment.
"Relax. It's not like shit like that happens on every flight," Lilith said with a wave of her hand.
"Well… Here's hoping no-one does something stupid on this flight," he sighed as he went back to his studies.
A moment later, someone did "something stupid".
"THIS IS A HIGHJACKING! ALLAHU AKBAR!"
'Ffffuuuuuuuck!'
Before the guy could get very far, Roland had gotten up from his seat, drawn the sanctioned knife from his boot, and hurled it through the air. The knife embedding itself into the space between the guy's eyes up to the hilt, the loud *SQUELCH* preceded the *whump* as the dead body hit the ground.
"Anyone else want to try something stupid?" Lilith asked aloud. "Any takers? Any at all?" she questioned.
Whether the hijacker had no other accomplices or they all re-evaluated their life choices, no one would ever know.
At least not until a thorough investigation was carried out.
That internal monologue was thusly interrupted as the passengers near him erupted into fits of panic, disgust, and fainting.
"Roland, why the hell are you desecrating that body?" Virgil asked as Roland put his boot on the guy's neck and wrenched his knife free before he cut a smile across the would-be terrorist's throat.
"I have to make sure he isn't playing possum," Roland answered with a completely straight face. "For all we know, he has a Healing Factor like Deadpool, so it never hurts to be too sure."
"Well... Just make sure it sticks," Virgil said going back to his studies, washing his hands of what he'd just witnessed.
When you have a front-row seat to the lower Manhattan area going to hell in a hand basket, a little bit of blood and bodily desecration stops bothering you.
"Holy crap! He is regenerating!" someone cried.
"Quick! Grab all the knives in the galley! If we gut him like a fish, that should slow him down!"
"Satan! That man is possessed by Satan!"
Like I said.
*WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS*
West Virginia Airport
November 14, 15:17 EST
"Great, not even an hour into my vacation and shit already goes sideways," Virgil grumbled as their flight was diverted.
Even though the hijacking had been averted, it wasn't like the pilots could expect everyone to spend the next five hours cooped up inside a pressurized tube with a dead body; let alone one that had been gutted like a fish for the explicit purpose of inhibiting the Healing Factor of the would-be terrorist.
At present the straight flight between New Jersey to Las Vegas, Nevada was landing early at another airport in West Virginia. All things considered though, the hijacking could've turned out a lot worse, so everyone was just glad the "bad guy" was dead.
Although this now put Roland in the position where, as a U.S. Air Marshal, he had to submit his report regarding the incident.
At the very least, he hadn't discharged a firearm inside the plane, so that was a plus as far as things went. No-one would be able to blame him for endangering anyone's lives that way. And while it may have been considered "disrespectful" to desecrate the body even further like that, the near-and-present danger that a confirmed meta-human presented made the measure necessary.
It wasn't immediately obvious whether or not the guy could feel himself being eviscerated, but he'd made his decision upon deciding to sacrifice a plane full of people in the name of his religion's god.
"I am never going anywhere with you guys. Ever. Again."
"Hey, c'mon, Slab. We're not that bad."
"Crashed. Wake."
"Okay, maybe we are that bad," the mountain of a man wilted.
"Can you two keep it down? You're drawing stares," Lilith hissed at them.
"Says the woman with tattoos on half her body," Virgil bit out.
"Hey, leave my tatts out of this!" the woman hissed.
'I really want to talk with someone normal right now…' he thought as he pulled up Artemis' number on speed-dial. ' . . . But I don't want to drag her into this,' he sighed as he abandoned the notion.
Misery may've loved company, but he didn't love burdening others with his emotional bullshit.
' . . . Maybe just a text message,' he hummed as he reached a compromise.
*WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS*
Topeka City Airport
November 14, 17:43 CST
"Fucking turnover…"
"Well, all things considered, I think we're making great time," Lilith hummed as they ate at the airport café while waiting for their last flight. The final leg of their journey to the much-traveled Las Vegas, Nevada.
"Yes, except now we're stuck in the middle of the fucking sticks," Virgil groaned as he laid his head on the table. "Most boring state in the U.S., population: everyone here."
"Hey now, don't be too upset. This is America's bread basket after all, there's bound to be something interesting to do until our next flight," Roland said consolingly.
"Please, this has gotta be the most-boring state in the history of boring states," Virgil quipped back. "No wonder Dorothy was so eager to get the fuck out of dodge."
"Yeesh, what crawled up your but and said 'God is great' in Arabic?" Brick questioned in poor taste.
"I just want one vacation, just one, where everything doesn't go to shit. Is that too much to ask for?" Virgil asked glancing upward to whatever god might've been listening.
Everything going to shit that fateful Fourth of July had left a very substantial chip on his shoulder.
"Hey look! Corn!" Brick said pointing out the window.
"This trip to Vegas better be worth it…"
*WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS*
Las Vegas Airpot
November 15, 20:27 PT
"Phew. We made it," Brick sighed as they made their way out of the terminal of the Las Vegas Airport.
"Yeah. And it only took us one failed hijacking and the follow-up corpse to make it happen," Virgil grumbled under his breath irritably.
"C'mon man, don't be such a grumpy grumpus, we're in mother-fucking Vegas! Live it up a little!" Mordecai whooped, Bloodwing screeching excitedly on his arm.
"I still can't believe you brought the bird along."
He still couldn't believe he missed that thing in the ride over.
"What can I say? He makes a great wingman," Mordecai chuckled.
'Fucking dad jokes…'
"C'mon! Let's hit the clubs!" Lilith whooped as she grabbed Roland by the hand and led them out of the airport.
"God. If I'm fated to die tonight…" Virgil said glancing upward. "Please let the rest of them die before me," he finished before walking off after them.
If you're going to pray to something, might as well be to the thing that keeps you alive.
Even if it decides to only keep you alive long-enough to watch other people die before you.
And in the end, isn't that what praying to god is for?
*WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS*
Las Vegas, Nevada: Caesars Palace
November 16, 09:48 PT
"Mmmgh… Nnngh… What a wild night…?" Lilith yawned tiredly the next morning, licking her lips as she rolled to her right, unwilling to get out of bed since it was her vacation.
When her arm was draped across a male body next to her, at first Lilith didn't think anything of it; this would hardly be the first time she and Roland had woken up in the same bed.
However, upon realizing that the chest her arm was draped across was far less broad than the soldier's, her eyes snapped open as she beheld who she was now in bed with.
Brown hair tousled with lightly-tanned skin coming into view, Lilith realized with wide eyes that the person she was sharing a bed with was Virgil. That shock of course would only compound with what her golden-amber eyes caught sight of next.
"Oh my god…" Lilith gaped as she beheld the ring on her left index finger, her jostling of the bed rousing Virgil from his slumber.
"Mmmgh… Athena…? No more sexy time… still sleepy…" the brunette yawned as crimson eyes peeked between fluttering eyelids. "Huh? Lilith? What're you doing in my-"
"Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod ohmy-"
*SLAP*
"Lilith! Snap out of it!" Virgil growled after slapping some sense into the hysterical woman.
After getting the shit kicked out of him by Carolina, Connie, and South prior to getting nuked like a microwave burrito, he had no problem hitting a woman.
Within reason.
He was an equal-opportunity face-slapper.
Gotta love that gender equality, huh, folks?
"The one you married was Roland, not me!" the brunette said raising up both hands, showing no ring on either finger.
"But… But why the hell're you in my bed?"
"Your bed? This is my bed! In my room!" Virgil argued, Lilith looking around to see that in fact, she was not in the master bedroom of their suite.
" . . . Oh," Lilith said after a moment, letting out a sigh of relief after realizing she had not had drunken sex with a minor. " . . . What the hell happened last night?"
"You and the idiot brigade got drunk off your asses at the first place we went to, won a buttload of money somehow, raided a pawn shop with your casino winnings, had a drunken wedding officiated by Elvis, and then you had a crazy-ass honeymoon party in the suite with whoever you could drag up from the lobby," Virgil summarized as the woman got out of bed, clad only in red lingerie. "I wouldn't go out there if I were you," he said as he averted his eyes.
"Why do you say that?" Lilith asked as she opened the door, her eyes going wide as she beheld six-hundred pounds of Bengal tiger laid out right in front of the door, the striped cat letting out a growl before the woman closed the door and pressed her back to it as the big cat got to its feet.
"Well… There goes your deposit," Virgil hummed with a deadpan as the big cat started clawing at the door, only to lose interest after a few moments.
"Why the hell is there a tiger out there!?" Lilith shrieked.
"Because like an idiot I agreed to be you guys' getaway driver," Virgil said flatly. "AGAIN."
"What the hell did we do last night?!"
"Apart from the wedding? I don't have a fucking clue," Virgil bit out. "When shit started going crazy, I locked the room and crammed cotton balls into my ears so I could fucking sleep," he deadpanned. "Also, congrats on the wedding by the way. I got you two a nice toaster from the same pawn shop you got the rings."
"Aw, thanks," Lilith said with a smile. "Wait! No! This is not how it was supposed to happen!"
"What? Did you have one of those Perfect Wedding scrapbooks you made when you were a teenager?"
"No…! Yes," the woman sighed.
"Well, the good thing about Vegas weddings is they're easy-enough to annul," Virgil yawned as he laid back down in his bed. "After the yesterday I've had, and the day before that, and the day before that, I'm going to sleep my ass off, and you can't stop me."
"But what about the fucking tiger?!"
"I assume you guys raided the backstage of a magician with dark eyeliner," Virgil grumbled as he threw the pillow Athena was using over his head.
"That isn't what I-"
"Good night, sleep tight, and don't wake me the fuck up."
"But-"
"DON'T! WAKE ME! THE FUCK UP!" the teen growled before throwing himself back into bed.
As long as Lilith didn't let him get mauled by the motherfucking tiger in the den, he didn't care what the idiot brigade did.
*WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS*
Las Vegas, Nevada: The Strip
November 16, 10:32 PT
Contrary to his previous intentions, Virgil was not able to sleep the day away, so instead got dressed, grabbed his money, got a late breakfast, and hit the Las Vegas Strip.
As it turned out, he couldn't have picked a better time to unilaterally decide to go out for a walk, because right as he'd gotten dressed for a day on the town, Lilith came up to him saying they'd lost Mordecai some time in the night.
Of course, seeing as how he'd absconded himself to his bedroom for the night, and thus had no idea where Mordy could've gone, it was easy-enough to excuse himself from the search. Thus, leaving him free to wander the Vegas Strip.
He'd seen it loads of times in movies, though the night before he hadn't really been able to enjoy the neon because he was still in a foul mood from the trip and the lead-in. It was certainly busy enough, lots of noise, lots of teenagers, though on every street corner it seemed like there was always someone at the bus stop who'd lost everything and had to sell their hair and most the clothes off their backs to get a bus pass back home.
"Hard to believe I'd come to Vegas for a dose of 'normal'," he noted to himself.
Raising his phone to photograph one of the nearby buildings, the next moment there was a sound of shattering glass, bursting masonry, and the smell of wet, soggy death as something huge and lumbering bust out of one of the casinos. Glancing over his shoulder, Virgil's brows crawled into his hairline as he beheld a massive mountain of a man even bigger than Brick with chalk-whit skin and hair, a torn black suit, and massive bags of what he assumed to be money in massive meat-hunks of hands.
This of course sent the nearby tourists into a clamor.
"Solomon Grundy?!"
"Isn't he a Gotham villain?"
"What's he doing here?" the surrounding crowd asked, some panicking and running for their lives while others were chill and recording this on their phones.
A moment later from around the corner, a man on a heavily-stylized Segway burst onto the scene chasing after Grundy.
"Stop! No-one beats The House!" the rider shouted. In terms of appearance, he was clad in white sports-grade body armor featuring a red diamond, black club, black spade, and red heart symbol on his left shoulder, right shoulder, left knee, and right knee respectively.
In other words, a wannabe D-List superhero looking to hit his "big break".
"Fuck this shit I'm out~" Virgil sung as he whirled on his heel and went in the exact opposite direction of the Monday-born undead and D-List superhero-wannabe both.
After the week he'd had, he wasn't touching that with a ten-foot pole.
*WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS*
"Well, it's been thirty minutes and I'm not dead yet. Must be doing something right," Virgil hummed to himself a while later, having successfully escaped the black hole of absurdity that was superhero hijinks.
With the week he's had, let alone the trip to Vegas, there was no way his shitty luck would prevent him from getting caught up in some superhero BS if he'd stuck around.
Taking a picture of another Vegas landmark, right as he finished capturing the image for his portfolio, frantic movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention.
Off in the distance were five men dressed in black bodysuits with white gloves and boots with featureless white masks on their faces, and draped over their white tunics were markings reminiscent of playing cards. In no particular order they were styled after the Two of Hearts, the Five of Clubs, the Nine of Spades, and the Eight of Diamonds.
Being chased by the five "playing cards" was a young woman scarcely older than Tina but marginally more attractive; she was a young pretty thing with medium-length dark hair, cyan-colored eyes, and light skin. Her attire which consisted of a white single-breasted shirt with a matching bow tie, white gloves, a low cut yellow vest, a black blazer, black mini-shorts with gray stockings, and black boots reaching midway up her calves. Dangling from the girl's neck and glinting garishly in the sun, clashing horrendously with the rest of her outfit, was a golden amulet with a ruby in the center, the gemstone glinting in the mid-day sun.
Of course, this being Vegas, everyone else in the crowd thought it was some kind of street performance. Someone even referenced the performing arts school nearby.
Ergo, no-one was attempting or even contemplating to call the police, despite the terrified look on the girl's visage, as she was chased into a back alley between buildings.
*SIIIIIIIGH* "Me and my weak spot for cute girls in distress," the teen sighed tiredly before following after at a discrete distance.
*WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS*
Panting and heaving as a result of the chase, no sound leaving her lips, the moment she saw the wall at the end of the back alley she'd run into, she knew she'd messed up.
Back pressed literally to the wall, the featureless faces of her pursuers gained an additional air of menace, the five men stalking her like cats cornering a mouse.
Her heart pounding, adrenaline surging, the girl threw back her head and yelled, only for her voice to once more fail her.
The girl's pursuers, aware of her powers, or rather, the present lack thereof, so sure of their victory failed to notice the seventh figure in their midst. Clad in regular street clothes with lightly-tanned skin and messy dark-brown hair, what stood out the most about him were his deep crimson eyes, a cool glint like the edge of a blade visible.
The girl's eyes landing on him, recognizing right-away he was no ally to her pursuers, he raised a shushing finger to his lips before ordering her eyes elsewhere.
Getting the message, the girl pressed herself further against the wall, eyes darting to conceal the young man's approach.
One of the men moving forward ahead of the others, the sound of a trash can lid being lifted from its home gave the infiltrator away.
However, he'd already closed enough of the ground between them that it didn't matter.
Eight of Diamonds looking over his shoulder to the source of the noise, the last thing he saw through his one-way mask was the inside of a trash can lid bashing him, blackness erupting across his vision. Nine of Spades whirling around was quick to receive a throat strike via discus throw, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. Five of Clubs had his knee kicked in and an uppercut to the chin before he could even see his attacker. The last of them, whirling around, shock spreading behind his mask, the next moment he was shoulder-checked by the vulnerable girl he'd once pursued with impunity, staggering forward into a wicked snap-kick straight to the nards followed by an axe handle to the head, the last thing Two of Hearts saw being the knee rising up to meet his face.
The last of the bodies hitting the ground, the young woman being chased fell to her knees as the adrenaline fled her, the shoulder-check a spur-of-the-moment decision to help her would-be savior in whatever way she could. Finally able to collect her breath, the alley's seventh walked toward her, stepping lightly around and over the downed bodies before extending a hand to her.
"Hey... You alright?" he asked, the hard edge in his eyes gone making him infinitely more-approachable.
The girl opened up her mouth to speak, her lips flapping before once more sound failed to come out. Looking contemptuously at the pendant dangling from her neck, the girl let out a huff before blowing a loch of hair out of her face, shoulders sagging as the ruby glinted in the light.
"Can you… understand… the words… coming out of my mouth?" Virgil mimed aloud.
Unable to vocally reply, the magical girl instead vigorously nodded her head.
"Okay… Are you mute, or… does it have something to do with that?" the teen asked pointing to the pendant dangling from her neck. "I only assume because that thing looks horrible with your present outfit."
In response, the girl raised one finger and shook her head, before raising a second and nodding.
"I'll just assume you can't take it off yourself for some reason, otherwise you would've done so on your own," the teen sighed as he rubbed the back of his head. "I'm going to reach down and take it off for you. Is that alright?" he asked, the girl nodding vigorously. Reaching down, the brunette's hand stopped an inch away. "Wait… This thing isn't going to turn me into a frog or something if I touch it, is it?"
Based on all the runic letters and stuff carved into it, and knowing that magic was real, it was a sensible conclusion to come to, if not a bit "fantastical".
In response, the raven-haired girl shook her head, looking at him with pleading eyes between timid glances at the amulet around her neck.
" . . . You're lucky I have a soft spot for cute girls," the brunette sighed before he grabbed the sides of the pendant, drew it off over the girl's head, and chucked it like a live grenade. After several moments of nothing happening, the teen let out a relieved sigh before a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around his midsection.
"Thank you! Thank you so much!" the girl suddenly cried out. "I didn't think I'd ever get to hear myself speak ever again! Thank you so much for saving me!"
"Yeah, well… With how brain dead the general populous can be, I probably was the only one who thought to do so," Virgil admitted as he looked down at the now-beaming girl.
She was cute, but fell short of the "half-plus-seven" rule, so it was easy to keep it in his pants.
"So… You wanna tell me what the heck that was for?" he asked jabbing a thumb at the pendant.
"From what I can tell, it's an amulet that stops people form speaking, which is a bit of a problem because I have to speak to use my magic," the girl answered bitterly as she glared at it. "Since I couldn't remove it by myself, I'm doubly-sure it's meant to stop magic-users."
"Magic? As in legit magic?" Virgil asked with a raised brow.
"What, are you one of those people who thinks every magic-user in the League is just a sham?" the girl asked with a pout.
"Nope. Not in the slightest. I know magic's legit from a very credible source, so if you say you're magic, I'll take your word for it," Virgil replied, the girl's eyes widening a margin before her expression brightened.
"Oh. Good. For a second there I thought you were going to send me to the funny-farm," the girl sighed. "I don't think I properly introduced myself. My name's Zatanna Zatara, daughter of Giovanni Zatara."
"Zatara… You mean that guy in the Justice League? He's your dad?"
"Yep! He's also a world-famous illusionist!"
"Well, when you've got legit magic up your sleeve, not a whole lot else you can do with it," Virgil admitted. As far as double-negatives went, it was pretty clever. "So… what's with the performing arts troupe?" he asked pointing to the scattered goons.
"I don't know all the details," Zatanna admitted. "While my dad was preparing for tonight's show, I decided to go out for some air, then that guy put that pendant on my neck and chased me away from the Bellagio hotel," she said pointing at one of the guys. "Since I couldn't speak, I couldn't even call out for help, and because of the way we were all dressed, everyone thought it was just an act," she sighed despondently.
"Well, you are dressed like a 'magician's assistant'," Virgil deadpanned. "Maybe in the future you not make those your street clothes?"
"These aren't my street clothes. I was going to help my dad with his act tonight," Zatanna pouted.
"Well then don't wear them until it's time for you to go on stage," he sighed. "So… Should I just leave that thing where it is orrr…?" he trailed off, gesturing to the discarded pendant.
"I'd rather not… but I'm not keen on taking it with me either," the girl shuddered.
Having her magic nullified like that was not a feeling she wanted to re-enact.
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'll hold onto it, and then lock it away in a safe when I get back home," Virgil offered. "How does that sound?"
"That's… agreeable, I suppose," the girl replied nervously. "Sorry I got you mixed up in all this."
"It's fine. It's fine," the teen waved off as he carefully lifted the pendant by its chain before slipping it into his jacket pocket. "I'm used to getting wrapped up in stuff that isn't my business."
"That's good. Us Homo Magi should really stick together," the girl nodded.
'Homo Magi? Is that what they call themselves?' Virgil pondered.
As far as Zatanna knew, he was "magically aware". If he asked something stupid like- "What's a Homo Magi?" -, the girl might clam up on him.
Best to let her believe he's as-in-the-know as she is.
"Before we leave, what should we do about them?" he asked pointing to the KOd goons scattered across the alley.
"My first instinct says call the police... but since all they did was chase me, I'm not sure they'll really be able to do anything," Zatanna answered.
"Well, guess it's good I have this thing then," Virgil said drawing a pistol from his back before taking aim at one of the guys.
"Ah! Wait!" Zatanna cried going for the arm, only for a *Chu* to go off instead of the loud *BANG* she'd expected, causing the girl to fumble mid-step and run into his back. "Wait… What?"
"What, did you think I was going to use a real gun on them? Out in the open like this?" Virgil asked with a raised brow. "I'm just gonna tranquilize them for a couple hours," he said pointing to the guy he'd just shot, a small dart sticking out of his left butt cheek.
"Why do you even have a tranquilizer gun?" the girl asked, audibly relieved they weren't going to leave a trail of dead bodies in their wake, but still confused as to the presence of said weapon.
"It's dangerous to go alone. Take this."
"I feel like that was some sort of meme, but for the life of me I can't figure out what it was from," Virgil hummed as Brick's words popped into his head after Roland handed the pistol over and a few other articles. Said they were giving him the "essentials" while the rest of them hunted for Mordecai. "Anyway, I'm just gonna tag these guys, buy us a little time before whoever sent these guys after you knows you slipped the net."
"Oh, okay…" the girl nodded as Virgil proceeded to tranq each of her pursuers, no-one outside the alley responding to the noise from the built-in suppressor. Seeing Virgil withdraw the gun to a holster hidden on his back and throwing one of the men over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes, hearing a grunt as he threw open the dumpster lid with his free hand, her eyes lit up as she drew her wand from her boot. "Oh, I can help with that! Retspmud that otni nem eseht etativel!" she intoned, flicking her wand upward before the other KOd men were lifted into the air by unseen forces, unceremoniously dumped into the dumpster the moment they were all in position.
"Well that was… interesting," Virgil hummed as he chucked the last guy into the dumpster and closed the lid. "Come on. Let's get back to your dad before anything else happens."
*WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS*
"So… Why are we out in the open like this?" Zatanna asked a few minutes later as the two of them walked down the Vegas Strip.
"If we're out in the open like this, whoever sent those guys after you will hesitate to try again since there are witnesses, and since I'm here, the same 'performing arts' BS won't work twice, so if they're smart, or at least competent, they won't risk getting the cops involved," Virgil explained.
"That makes sense, I guess," the girl nodded. "You know… you're the first boy I've ever told about my magic… ever," she realized.
"And you're the first magical girl I've met, so we're 1-for-1," Virgil replied.
"Wait, then who told you magic is real?"
"Someone very trustworthy," the older teen replied, unwilling to say more.
"Oh…" the girl replied, a little sadly in fact. "I… kinda hoped you were magical too. None of my classmates are magical, so I have to keep this to myself."
"Wait, your dad's identity as Zatara of the Justice League is public, yet your magical girl powers are secret?" Virgil asked confusedly.
"They know he's my dad, but I'm not really allowed to talk about real magic with any non-magi," the girl replied. "I go to a Catholic school, so most-everyone thinks it's science, not real magic, or even divinity."
"Well, you know… if you could teach me magic, me being a non-magi wouldn't really be an issue anymore," Virgil replied with a shrug. "Just something to think about."
"Huh… I never really thought of it that way," the girl replied thoughtfully.
"Though you'll forgive me if I opt to learn magic in Latin instead of speaking backwards. I might swallow my on tongue by mistake if I try to use magic like you do," Virgil laughed nervously, causing the girl at his side to chuckle. "Ah, there's that smile."
"Thank you… Thank you for saving me," the girl replied with a nod. "And thanks for talking to me like my dad being in the League wasn't a big deal."
"Yes, well, since I don't worship the ground that the League walks on, we should be fine in that regard," Virgil returned. "Now come on, let's get the hell out of the open before we get hit by a sniper or something," he said realizing how-exposed they were.
*WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS*
"So your dad's performing here?"
"Yes, he is."
"Well… There's certainly good money in it," Virgil hummed as he stared up at the Bellagio hotel, he and Zatanna standing in front of it, the large signature fountain at their backs. "Come on. Let's get out of the open."
"Right," Zatana replied, leading him in through the revolving door.
"So… Where will your dad be right now?"
"He'll be in the main theater, getting ready for tonight's show," Zatana replied. "Most of it's making sure the props arrived on-time, and that the lighting and sound is all set up."
"You know, it just occurred to me to ask, but why the heck don't you have a cell phone?" Virgil asked, realizing they could've just called the man to meet them in the middle instead of going all the way to the Bellagio.
"My dad won't get one for me," the girl sighed dejectedly, being the only one of her peers without a phone, even for emergencies. "He's very… traditionalist among magi."
"Well, once this is all said and done, I think I'm going to have a serious talk with him about you not having an emergency line," Virgil huffed. "If I weren't there to bail you out of that back-alley, you might be dead in a ditch somewhere."
"Yeah… I might very well have been," the girl replied sadly. "Come on. We're almost there."
Giovanni Zatara's show taking place in the Bellagio's main theater, it was easy-enough to find the place. However, upon arriving, they were soon barred entry by a surly-looking employee standing before a velvet rope.
"What do you mean we can't go in?" Zatana questioned.
"I'm sorry, but right now Mr. Zatara is tending to the props for tonight's act," the employee said, insistent on keeping the doors closed. "A few of them were damaged, and repairing them requires his undivided attention. I can't let you disturb him at this time."
"You know what's really going to 'disturb' him?" Virgil questioned, quickly reaching the end of his patience. "His daughter screaming 'rape' at the top of her lungs for everyone to hear," he bit back, the man in front of them breaking out into a cold sweat at the R-word.
"I-I see…" the man stammered, wiping the sweat forming on his brow. "You two… just wait out here a moment. I'll be right back," the man said rushing into the theater a moment later.
"So… Any idea who's behind this?" Virgil asked gesturing to the amulet in his coat pocket.
"Not really. I'm not exactly kept in the loop about who the bad guys really are," Zatanna replied. "My guess is that the amulet was made by Felix Faust, who still regards women like they were in medieval times; seen but not heard. However, I didn't feel any sort of magic that could hint his personal involvement. Least not as much as I can sense," she conceded.
"So what, those playing card schmucks bought this thing off the internet?"
"It's not impossible," the girl answered. "Most of the magical items online are fakes, but real ones do slip the net from time to time; it can be a bit embarrassing for the magical community. Still, there's no shortage of magical clean-up, so there's always work to be had."
"Are you sure you should be telling me all this?"
"Given you've seen and handled magical artifacts, you're kind of involved already," the girl answered. "Besides, you seem like a trustworthy guy. You did save my life after all."
'Here's hoping I don't regret it,' Virgil sighed to himself, wondering what was taking so long for that guy to get Zatana's dad so they could bring him into the loop. "Let's just hope we can see your father before things go to-"
"Hey, do you… hear something?" Zatana asked perking up her ears. "It sounds like… that hoverboard from Back to the Future…"
"Shiiiiiiit."
Looking over his shoulder, Virgil was able to catch glimpse of a figure riding atop what appeared to be an enormous playing card. The figure snapping up a grenade launcher, when rounds started getting lobbed at them, Virgil quickly tackled Zatana to the ground at the base of the wall, shielding her with his body as-best he could.
However, there were no explosions like Virgil initially predicted.
Instead, a massive plume of blue smoke rose over them from each grenade, filling the hall with sedatives.
"Sleep grenades… damn…" Virgil swore as he felt Zatana nodding off underneath him, Virgil himself rolling off of her and going for his pistol, the other hand covering his mouth and nose before he breathed in any more.
However, before he could even draw it, the figure atop the giant playing card leapt off and drove a brutal kick into his midsection, knocking him to the ground and the air out of his lungs, giving the tranquilizers plenty of room to slip in on the rebound.
As the drugs kicked in, Virgil was able to let out one last retort before losing consciousness.
"I fucking… hate… Vegas…"
To be continued…