Chapter: 28
Livia could only stare, frozen, eyes wide—glazed over with memories of the last time she'd seen Jennifer. The bonfire, the stars, the scent of pine and woodsmoke, the sound of burning flesh—her skin—acrid putrid smell of metal and skin colliding…it was all there, a reel cascading through her mind's eye. Her shoulder, as if in answer to the unwanted, gripping, memories seared painfully. Darren's presence, his body, came into view into focus as he took a step forward and placed himself between her and Jennifer. He seemed unsteady from their recent altercation with Constantine and Zatanna, but his preternatural grace was still there hiding any strain, as was the warning and promise of a swift demise glinting dangerously in his steely blue-grey gaze if Jennifer even thought of touching Livia.
Relief that Darren was there eased the terror, and the slideshow holding Livia captive abated. Livia let out a breath of air she hadn't realized she was holding. Her voice, once caught helplessly in her throat now found its way to the surface, the one question that was rattling in her skull echoed harshly off the silent apartment walls,
"I…how, how are you here?" Was all Livia could utter, as she glanced back to her brother who stood behind her and Darren in the hallway, the picture of youthful confusion. His eyes darting between Livia, Darren who still hadn't moved an inch, and Jennifer before moving to the kitchen doorway where their father had disappeared and had yet to return. Peter was expecting their father to burst in and soothe the tension in the room. Tension that he wasn't missing…Peter knew something was off but didn't understand what that was, only that it existed,
"Surprised are we? Shocking considering you were the one who brutalized my friends,"
"Your cult," Darren corrected. Jennifer's glare darted to Darren. Taking him in for the first time, her expression wavering from irritation to confusion to mild wonder. Livia moved closer to Darren, her hands moving to rest on his upper arms as she peered over his should at Jennifer, worry rippling alongside her fear. Livia knew what Jennifer saw when looking at Darren, what every other magician saw when looking at him beyond just seeing…an enigma. Someone reeking an aura of death but someone who was also very much alive. Livia wanted to mask that, the intrigue…the potential of what it might mean…but it was too late Jennifer was out for blood and she might have just gotten a wiff of it.
A part of Livia wanted to see what would happen, if Jennifer and Darren duked it out. Who might come out on top, the Siphoner or the Talon…but Livia shut the thought down as soon as it flittered to the forefront of her mind. She remembered the feeling of being darined, of losing her grasp on her powers…her physical and mental strength. She didn't want Darren to experience that—especially after his recent encounter with Constantine, he lost a lot of blood and energy dying—Livia didn't want anyone to feel that way,
"What are you?" Jennifer asked finally, her attention shifting. While the cultist was distracted, Livia gestured at Petey to go back down the hall and to his room,
"Go Petey, now. Stay in your room and don't come out unless I come get you,"
"Oh no, I think you're all going to stay right here and do exactly as I say,"
"Or what?" Darren muttered coldly. If he was perturbed by Jennifer's interest in him he didn't show it,
"I don't think I need to remind you…dear Livy, how fragile mortal minds are. And there are two fresh ripe mortal minds in this apartment that I could easily squash with a thought," Livia flinched, remembering Klarion's words and threats from so long ago, fear mounted for her brother and father. And though Livia also wondered as to why Jennifer didn't include Darren in that mix, there wasn't time to dwell on that, at least not yet. Livia shared a glance with Darren, pleading for him to hold off on any action at least for the time being. He nodded tersely in agreement, a flash of irritation in his gaze as it settled back on Jennifer—predator watching prey—a physical reaction of him tamping down his killer instinct, the side of himself that would've thrown himself at Jennifer no matter what to protect those he held dear. But he knew that wouldn't help matters, not when Jennifer could do anything with a glancing thought.
With great reluctance Livia, Darren and Peter all took a seat on one side of the table, Jennifer standing at the opposite side's head, hands splayed out to the sides, resting on the table's edge. The kitchen door finally swung open and her father jumbled out, hefting various bowls and plates. Livia let loose a sigh of relief at seeing he was okay, though it didn't last long as each of the plates were set down empty, her father not realizing or noticing or seeming to care. Jennifer smiled drolly,
"Thank you hon, now go back in the kitchen, and be sure to sharpen your knives, they're getting rather dull,"
"They are rather dull," Alaric agreed, his tone monotonous. In stark contrast to the wide smile he has on his face as he spun on his heels, deaf to Livia's cries to protest, disappearing once more into the kitchen. Livia surged to her feet to stop him, Jennifer's demands be damned,
"Ah ah ah, Liv Liv Livy…remember what I said. Your father is fine in there, for now. Call it assurance, lover boy there looks like he wants to pounce…and I can't have that. I need my answers," Livia slowly took her seat, sending a worried glance to Peter who seemed to have settled on being silently scared rather than confused. His bug-eyed gaze darted back an forth between the kitchen door and where Livia and Darren sat. An unspoken question in his wide eyes 'what is happening, why is she doing this, I thought she was in love with daddy.' Grimly Livia thought to herself I'm sorry Petey but that was a flat out lie,
"What do you want to know?" Darren bit out through gritted teeth. Jennifer leaned over the table, hunched and menacing, hunger in her gaze—as Livia had seen at the thought of more power,
"I want to know how you did it," Jennifer hissed. Livia swallowed thickly, discomfort prickling across her shoulders, "I want to know how you tore my boyfriend and friends to pieces as if they were nothing." Silence, Livia didn't know how to answer…she didn't remember…she didn't know. I thought you'd never ask I thought you'd never ask I thought you'd never ask…the phrase echoed in her head, rasping like an old door opening for the first time in ages. Like a musty attic in her head, dark and decrepit, haunted by its own disuse,
"How did you survive?" Darren asked pointedly, his eyes locked solely on Livia…meaning for her to escape whatever memories and need to answer. Livia was grateful, but it only stalled the inevitable. Jennifer's frown tightened, real emotion glittering as unshed tears in her eyes as she sat down heavily at the head of the table,
"How do you think?" Jennifer muttered, a scowl darkening her features, the tears vanishing replaced by anger, hatred…a flickering need to understand, "I siphoned what power remained in the brand and teleported myself the hell out of there the second blood and gore started raining down,"
"So much for your lover boy," Darren mused, a dark grin on his face. Livia paled, wanting to chide Darren for goading Jennifer when her father was at risk and when Petey was in the room with them witness to the tension, pain and horror. But Jennifer merely stiffened, her gaze landing on Darren,
"When you're a Siphoner, in a world of gifted powerful magicians, with no magic or power of your own, you learn to survive by whatever means necessary," Darren's jaw tightened, Livia could feel Jennifer's words hit home a little too closely for comfort. It was Darren's eyes that unfocused, unwanted thoughts, memories dancing in his mind's eye. His survival, the things he did and continues to do circling listlessly like a vuture. Livia wanted to hold his hand, to reach out and reassure him, but didn't want Jennifer to see and know she hit her mark. However that wouldn't have made a difference, Jennifer's eyes were on Darren still, as if gauging for a response, the stare intensifying for a tense silent moment before she jerked back, puzzlement clouding the anger and hurt from Darren's comment,
"What are you?" She demanded, "I can't get into your head…you're not a magic user, but you're no mortal either,"
"Perhaps you're not as good as you think you are," Darren deadpanned, though his heart was no longer in the taunting insult,
"Do you really want to be the one that orphans two people in one go, kid?" Jennifer sneers. At that Peter burst into tears,
"That's enough!" Livia snapped, fighting the desperate urge to get up and comfort her brother. She didn't want to anger Jennifer any further, it felt like one wrong move and everything would crumble into disaster, "You want an answer, I don't know! I don't know what happened. I don't know what happened when I snapped and killed all of your friends and boyfriend. I don't remember any of it! I blacked out from the pain of the brand," a half truth, better than the reality. If Jennifer knew that she was the new Embodiment of Chaos, she'd be unable to resist that kind of power or worse she'd want to become Klarion's host instead. And Livia would do it. Not only because she wanted Jennifer and Klarion out of her life but to keep her brother and father safe. Though all the same, it would be worse if Jennifer somehow merged with Klarion and became the host. She didn't have Livia's restraint or reluctance. The world would dissolve into chaos, the way Klarion would want it to,
"I don't believe you," Jennifer hissed, ignoring Peter's childish wailing, rising to her feet, leaning over the table, hair falling forward hands braced at the fingertips at the edge of the table, "That brand—I bet it still smarts," Jennifer mused, straightening suddenly calm, her hand at her chin as if considering something,
"What's it to you?" Livia retorted, a bitterness in her tone. Jennifer was the reason she had the untethered brand in the first place,
"I could help…I could siphon the spellwork out of your system. You'd be as good as new. All I need is just one little explanation and a hit of your power to send me on my way. I wouldn't bother you again," Livia knew that was a lie. Not every Siphoner is like this, but to some magic is like a drug. It wouldn't be the end of it. Jennifer would come back over and over again holding her brother and father over her head like an anvil. But still Livia was tempted. The pain was draining, it was exhausting. It was wearing on her, and had been since it was burned into her skin. She wanted, no needed, so desperately a respite from the constant fiery pain emanating from the wound that refused to close,
"Or…I could finish the ritual myself. Close the loop and you'd be my mindless little puppet for the rest of your pathetic little life," the words fell so heavily into being, they knocked the air out of Livia's chest. The world suddenly felt stifling, panic mounted painfully in her chest pounding in tandem to the wound on her shoulder. The walls suddenly felt too close, too much…Livia looked fearfully and helplessly to Darren, gripping the arms of the chairs so tightly the entire conversation that the wood creaked…now it cracked, breaking off but he stayed seated his eyes on Livia. Offering support, love, care…but also a wild look of need. Need to take Jennifer down, the need to launch himself into action—he wouldn't be able to hold back forever,
"No?" Jennifer spat, surprise alighting her features. A smirk soon forming, "Ohhh it must be bad then. Sacrificing your freedom without protest? What magics did you tap into, how did you do it. You might be a Baudelaire witch, but not even you can do what you did that night so easily," Livia remained silent, the room still echoing with Peter's snotty whimpering cries, he was quieting down, spent, though still scared. Livia kept her eyes on Darren, using them as strength, as hope, as a peace from this hellscape they were in,
"Well then, guess I need to dial it up a bit…this fire is too weak," she jerked her hand out, moving to telekinetically pull Peter—who was seated closest to Livia—to her waiting grasp. Only Darren was faster, he vaulted himself over the table in between Jennifer's line of magical contact and Peter. He grabbed Jennifer's wrist, twisting it wickedly as he snatched her up by the throad with the other his teeth bared—eyes blinded with preternatural rage. Livia scrambled to her feet, pulling Peter crying anew into her arms, pressing his face to her shoulder and away from the scene in front of them. Darren had Jennifer off the floor by a good six inches, but she wasn't petrified, she wasn't afraid—she looked hungry.
Livia cried out too late as Jennifer grabbed hold of the arm holding her throat with her remaining good hand. It was an instant, and it was all it took. Darren jerked, his hold on her slackening as he practically wilted, his knees knocking against the floor as he folded in on himself—trying to escape the pain, the panic and fear of being drained. Talons were immune to most magic…but Anchors weren't afforded that immunity to Siphoners. There was power in their nature, in their existence as a cornerstone for witches and that was something Jennifer could use, that was something she could steal. And it was the one thing Livia was afraid of happening. Just a dip into the being of an Anchor like that would reveal someone as exactly that, an Anchor. Livia reacted on instinct. Forgetting that Peter was there and that her father was just through the kitchen door, she threw her hand out snatching Jennifer up telekinetically—as the Siphoner had attempted with Peter—and ripped away her grip on Darren. Jennifer slammed harshly into the wall opposite the dining table, pictures and trinkets on the nearby shelves in the living room rattling at the force,
"Enough!" Livia shouted, fury and fear melded as one in her tone. Jennifer was laughing, Peter was crying and Darren was slowly rising to his feet, a hand on the table and a stricken expression on his face. Relief coursed through Livia, though it could have equally been adrenaline, it hadn't been too much. Darren was still conscious, still able to move…just a bit unsteady. Weak. Livia could relate, she understood exactly what he'd gone through, she knew what it felt like coming out of that draining hold. Livia also knew Darren, he needed action, he didn't need to think—couldn't think—not after something like that, "Darren…check on my dad!" Darren started slightly, his gaze snapping to Livia's—seeing the panic and fear there, remembering Jennifer's threat—before nodding and hurrying through the kitchen door.
Livia's arm shook with the effort of holding Jennifer against the wall, pain, breathtaking and consuming ebbed and flowed in waves down her arm from the untethered spell on her shoulder. The woman looked amused, pleased even with the information she'd been afforded and at the damage the wound she inflicted upon Livia was still wrecking havoc on her body the strain evident on Livia's face. The delight disgusted Livia, twisting her gut. The kitchen door swung once more as Darren returned,
"He's fine, safe. Collapsed on the floor, but safe," Darren held one of the kitchen knives in hand, balanced lightly in his grip, the dining room lights glancing off it's metal blade, "What do we do with her?" Livia swallowed thickly. What do they do with her,
"Please, the only way you're getting rid of me is if you kill me. And you both know you won't do that," Livia couldn't lie, it was a tempting end to consider. It certainly would solve many problems for both Livia and now Darren,
"You certainly don't speak for me," Darren muttered, spinning the knife easily in his hand,
"No you won't, because you know exactly what it would do to your father. Not after I've been in his head," Livia let out a gasp, jerking back as if slapped, deflating. They couldn't kill her, it would damage her father's mind. Magical influence needed to be unwound slowly, they needed to be eased out of the other person's mind. It's why it was so frowned upon in the magical world, and why only the darkest magic users dabbled in its use. It was a dark art, it was damaging and dangerous. Livia felt her arm drop, whether from the weight of holding Jennifer up—telekenisis was about physical and mental strength, and Livia had just about had enough that evening. Her arm felt like lead and the aching was only getting stronger in her shoulder,
"What are you doing?!" Darren demanded, not angrily, he was more surprised and perhaps he felt cheated of justice after what Jennifer had done to him. Jennifer merely laughed from her crumpled spot on the ground, straightening,
"Thank you so much for that taste of power. I certainly needed it, don't worry little Anchor this isn't the last you'll see of me that's for sure," with that she jerked her hand, using the magical boost Darren gave her to teleport from the room, the cloud of matter from her sudden disappearance disrupted by the kitchen knife soaring through where Jennifer had once been. The thrumming winging of the hilt echoing Darren's cry of frustration.
Silence. Darren's arms fell to his sides, shoulders slumped as both he and Livia stared at each other, Livia over Peter's shaking head and quaking shoulders. Exhausted. Unsure of what to do or how to go forward after both encounters that evening.
Livia glanced over at Darren, asleep in bed beside her, dead to the world, a small tired smile on her face. He'd faded fast after being siphoned by Jennifer. Even as he tried to stay aware and cognizant to help with the aftermath of her ambush. It seemed the siphoning pulled from Darren's energy reserve rather than magical stores as it would for Livia. Mental and physical exhaustion becoming too overpowering and unavoidable to ignore. Darren had practically dragged himself to Livia's room falling unceremoniously into bed, on top of the covers with his shoes still on. It was simultaneously amusing and terrifying the effect a siphoner had by seemingly simply grabbing someone.
They didn't know what to do to help Alaric, the best they could come up with was moving him to his bed and hoping whatever he remembered he put off as some bad dream. There was a chance he wouldn't remember anything at all, a consequence of Jennifer's interference in his mind. Livia shuddered at the thought, her poor uncle violated in such a way. Manipulated into a relationship—which thankfully did not go beyond verbally saying it was a relationship and perhaps fake memories of an actual relationship—by magical coercion. From fear and anger and disgust, it swirled as a cesspit in Livia's gut. She couldn't even help him, it wasn't her magic that was controlling his thoughts, actions, beliefs, or memory. It was all Jennifer. She had to be the one to remove her domination in Alaric's mind. Livia knew she wouldn't do that, not without something demanding in return and not after what Livia—Klarion—had done to her real boyfriend and friends.
It was an odd thing to realize, to remember, Livia had killed a dozen people that night. She didn't remember it, she didn't feel it, she didn't see it…but it had been her body. Her hands. Her magic that snuffed out those lives. She didn't know if that made it better or worse that degree of separation. If it absolved her of any blame—she hadn't been in control of herself—or if it damned her twice over as she blindly accepted the help of what she knew could potentially be Klarion. All the same, she'd been the victim of their kidnapping and attempted enslavement. Was she to blame for grasping onto whatever would save her? There was no shame in surviving, the Bats taught Livia that, Darren taught her that.
But in the end, did it not just do more damage that good? Her father was delirious, serving an invisible dinner to his family at an almost ungodly hour and her brother…Peter…he was traumatized by the very person that initially sought out to turn Livia into a living puppet for the Siphoner Cult's magical amusement and needs. Traumatized and mystified by the fact that magic existed and that Livia could wield it. Explaining the veiled truth to Peter had been difficult, he was exhausted and yet equally so full of questions. It was something to latch onto, something that distracted him but Livia didn't have the time or energy to give all the answers. There was an extremely unsavory side to her magical story, one that she wasn't ready to share with Peter.
Eventually Peter tired himself out, Livia laying there next to him for a long moment. It was tempting to do a memory wipe spell—different from mental manipulation as it was crafted for short term memory and didn't influence individual thoughts, feelings or decisions—Livia decided not to, whether because she was tired of lying or hiding the truth or because it felt too close to Jennifer's influence at the moment, despite the true difference in the two magics, to want to even attempt the spell Livia didn't know. Either way, the apartment was blissfully quiet. Livia didn't know what would happen in the morning. How she would breakdown the entire truth to her brother or whether she even should was a reeling mess in her head. She never anticipated the truth getting out to her family, the Bats were one thing—they were in this supernatural world, they dealt with aliens and magicians on a regular basis it wasn't new to them. In theory this wouldn't be new to her father or brother, they knew this side of reality existed but there was a degree of separation. They were still outside it all, looking in. It wasn't their reality. And Livia didn't know if they were ready—if she was ready—to pull them into the new reality that begun for her the moment they moved to Gotham.
Livia then trekked through the dark apartment, finding shelter in her room with Darren. Laying with him, staring up at the dark bedroom. Her thoughts a whirling mess. Fear pulsing in her veins as well as anxiety. Pain erupting in waves at her shoulder. Worry for Alaric and Darren—Jennifer knew he was an Anchor, knew what his energy could give her and other siphoners—pounded at her temples. Plagg bounded into view at the end of her bed and Livia nearly cried with relief as the familiar huddled close for a cuddled hug. Plagg's presence helped, though it did nothing for the pain at her back, which had somehow gotten worse the moment she used her magic as an attack. Livia remembered bitterly Léa's warning regarding untethered spells. That it was festering. Did that imply it would effect her ability to do magic or even her magic herself. Was this spell and waiting on an end all be all answer to fixing the spell essentially weakinging her? Could she go on like this? Endangering herself, her family, Darren, the Bats?
No, it wasn't worth it. Whatever solution they had now would have to work, whether it was temporary or just a stepping stone to an overarching way to save her from this untether spell. Livia couldn't be weak, she couldn't be working with one arm behind her back. Not when people like Jennifer or demons like Klarion were still a threat. Not when she needed to be strong for her family, whether or not they knew the entirety of the truth and especially when they'd need them in the aftermath of being freed from a defiling and damaging mental spell. Sitting up, purpose singing in her veins, washing away the adrenaline and fury and pain and fear from before. Reinvigorated Livia edged off her bed, a new thought in mind. She needed her full potential back, she needed her full power back. And there was only one man who could give her that, a very annoying Brit who owned like only one trench coat.
Constantine started when Livia teleported into his library within the House of Mystery, magic flickering dangerously in the palm of her hands. He tried to recover smoothly, reaching to pick up the book that had fallen from his hands a wry smile on his lips as if he'd been expecting her. He tried to play off his concern, the sense of her anger, with humor and jokes, but Livia wasn't there to play games. No one knew she was there, and that was fine Constantine didn't know this—perhaps he thought the Bats were on their way barging into his home to demand an explanation for his and Zatanna's actions. No one knew she'd gone to pay Constantine a visit…not a friendly one, but one that served as a warning. And perhaps Livia would keep it that way, she wasn't there to be nice.
In truth, Livia was more powerful than Constantine. He might overpower her in experience, but in raw magical energy, in reserves of power, Livia was near limitless. She'd been afraid to dip down into that ancient well of magic, but perhaps it was what happened to her, maybe it was Constantine's unknown motives in guiding and helping her that pushed her to step outside her comfort zone. Livia felt a shift as she stepped into the library, hovering a few feet off the floor, as if a seal had been broken, a door had been ripped open, and she'd jumped to the point of no return.
Her power rippled outward, warping the reality of the House of Mystery…disrupting the spellwork as it flickered into visible being, blinking in and out of existence within the realm it had made its home. Livia could hear it creak and groan as if alive…feeling the house's reaction to Livia's destructive chaotic magic. Mirrors broke, glass artwork shattered, flowers and plants died as the fire flared blue in the fireplace, a remnant of what happened to the buildings, streets and cars outside her room when Cosntantine and Zatanna ambushed her,
"Ah, Livi—," Constantine started, his tone wary but firm even as Livia interrupted him, her voice echoing with power,
"Listen here Constantine," she spat, "And listen well. You'll never use Darren as a bargaining piece ever again with me or harm him to get to me, you won't barter with me for power…and if I even hear a whisper of your involvement in what happened to me with the Siphoners—," perhaps it was a harsh thing to blame him for, but with everything that happened that evening the timing was too perfect. Jennifer showing up the exact moment Livia and Darren regained consciousness—angry and demanding of vengeance and justice for the ambush and brutal attacks wrought on them that night. It was too much for it to be a coincidence,
"I had nothing to do with that," Constantine snapped, angry despite the risk of infuriating someone spewing powerful magic right in front of them,
"You had motive…you knew Siphoners existed, you had means to orchestrate the attack on me, this evening...and given your last attempt at blackmail I don't intend to trust your word on it. If you were involved, you'll live to regret it. I also don't know what you want with the amplifying ability of an Anchor…but you'll have to find another way to get that resource because it won't be through me. Not after your last stint with me and Darren,"
"That's fair," Constantine muttered wryly, though the intent fell short, "And you have every right to be angry…and every reason not to trust me,"
"Don't patronize me," Livia snapped,
"Power down…and let me give you a show of good faith," Livia scowled but did as he requested, unable to stop the curiosity she felt at anything that had to do with magic, even from someone she disliked,
"What is it?" She demanded, eyeing the sorcerer as he ruffled through a drawer of a nearby table, undoubtedly using magic to pull whatever he was seeking from its original place in the house. Livia was about to call him out as stalling or grasping at straws just to placate her when he finally spoke up,
"No need to be testy," he stated, turning to face her holding a necklace in hand. It was a long chain, longer than the Baudelaire necklace that rested an inch or so below her collarbone. At its center was a silver, ornate arrowhead, and etched on its surface was the mirrored half of the brand seared into Livia's shoulder,
"You-you finished it?" Livia mumbled, swallowing thickly at the deep ache that spread over her shoulder blades in anticipation, unsure of how to feel about this potential swinging before her, dangling from his hands, "You're sure it's correct…?"
"I told you I would fix this," Constantine stated, seriously a bite to his words but clearly not directed at Livia. He'd been impacted by what happened to her, both by the Siphoners and his actions earlier that evening. Livia could fele it, emitting off him in waves. It all unsettled him, his actions and perhaps the result of his and Zatanna's tampering. It still wasn't enough to ease Livia's worry, she eyed the necklace warily, wondering if it was another lie—another trap,
"It's yours, no strings attached…no Trojan Horse…no quid pro quo. Nothing is needed in return. I-uh-what happened to you with the Siphoners…I should have been there; I should have done more and prepared you better. I made mistakes, in how I taught you, in what I taught you…with how I tried to use you,"
"And tonight?" Livia demanded icily,
"A necessary action. Do you want to know what we found?"
"Nothing significant I'd bet," Livia muttered, knowing what he would have done if there were any other result,
"Not quite, but not enough to push us to a failsafe," Constantine replied. It was bait, Livia knew it. He wanted her to ask so he could direct the conversation to that and avoid his own previous actions with her,
"Lucky me," she mused dryly, ignoring the attempt to divert the conversation,
"Take it," Constantine said after a moment, jingling the pendant on the chain as it dangled in the air between them, "Let's complete the spell and free you from this pain."
With a deep breath, Livia let Constantine pool the necklace into her hands, she could feel the pendant humming already charged with a spell, the second half of the ritual primed and ready to go...no need for a big elaborate setup. That was what had taken Constantine so long, he was fulfilling the parameters of the ritual and charging it into the pendant over time. Livia placed the chain carefully over her head and felt the magic soar through her, as like called to like and the spell fulfilled itself. Like an Ouroboros, a snake eating its own tail the spell came full circle.
Livia did not regret her storming of Constantine's home, nor did her threat cease to stand or her distrust in him lessen…it was a step in the right direction but she knew Constantine, he would always toe the line. That didn't matter right now, not to Livia. For the first time in what seemed like forever, her pain was gone. Only a mere flicker remained, a small twinge in her shoulder, the piece of jewelry could only do so much in place of a physical person to complete the barbaric ritual.
Still, Livia had never felt so light.
A/N: Hope you liked this chapter!
I definitely also had so much fun writing this chapter. Jennifer is such a random NPC character that is really fun to bring in from time to time. Whether that will continue throughout this last part of this series is up in the air, especially with her encounter with Darren-he'll be itching for revenge lol-but while she exists she is a loose end that needs to be pulled on/in from time to time especially for the progression of Livia's storyline.
Now to address the maybe (?) elephant in the room. Jennifer getting the jump on Darren and him not acting on his instinct to protect and attack. For one, he was recovering from Constantine's dagger still so that is a factor. Another, he knew if he acted and something happened to Livia's father because of it, she wouldn't forgive him nor would he necessarily forgive himself especially in that he would fear the repercussions of that potential casualty from not only Livia but also the Bats. Darren also has little to no experience with the magical world/spellcasters since he was raised in the Nest with superstitious Talons so he doesn't really know how to handle them or face them. His only experience has been Livia, Constantine, Zatanna (barely) and Klarion. He has never faced a Siphoner before, on top that he's operating on the fact that most magic won't effect a Talon so Jennifer's ability to drain him was surprising. And this begs the question, was she able to Siphon him because he is like any other human or is it because he's a Talon-a creation from the mesh of chemistry and alchemy-or is it because he's an Anchor like Livia was thinking in this chapter. Food for thought! Who knows if we'll get the answer?!
Finally, the chapter with Constantine and Livia was supposed to happen earlier however I felt it was too soon for there to be a 'solution' for the untethered spell so I moved it to here so apologies if that portion of the chapter didn't quite mesh well with the previous section. The idea of this is similar to a mobility aide or even a hearing aide but in the context of magic. She still has the untethered spell but while she wears the jewelry, it circumvents the pain/inhibition caused by the untethered spell. She needs to always wear it or the effects will come back/continue. Or if she takes it off from time to time the untethered spell will still effect her. It is a solution, it helps with pain and keeps her mobile in the case of combat or if she needs to use her magic-as she realized how impactful the untethered spell was when she really needed to use it to protect herself and those she cares about (re: her encounter with Jennifer in this chapter)-but it's not a permanent fix. Perhaps one day she will find a Siphoner she trusts to pull the magic from the spell or she will figure out how to complete it properly without activating the ritual. But for now, she lives with the untethered spell and the piece of jewlery Constantine provided her to help with the effects of it.
As always PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW. I love to hear your thoughts, theories and questions on this story. It really makes my day!