2.14 / Rockin' the Suburbs, Pt. 1 (Argyra, Artemis)
New
PrognosticHannya
Far Too Enthusiastic About Etymology
- Pronouns
- She/Her
AN: Congratulations, you get a big 'ol update today! This is going to be a bit of an experiment in terms of PoV switching, so let me know what you think.
Optional theme music is "Rockin' the Suburbs" by Ben Folds, for some reason I can't quite articulate.
PoV: Silver Sorceress
"It took us a while, but we've finally located their base." Sofia says, as we sit in the briefing room.
She points to a spot on the map, where a push-pin marks down a spot at the docks in the suburbs right outside town
"Thank you so much Silver Sorceress, for the help with scrying."
I just nod. It took me a while, and I mean a while to finally suss them out under their wards, but I was finally able to figure out a way to punch through.
"We know they've just had some big initiation ceremony, with a hundred new cultists enhanced, the most yet. They're having a celebration because of it tonight, all of them'll be in one place."
"And we want to attack now?!" Jinx asks.
"Yes" Sofia says, "because it's the only time their leader will actually be out in the open. We managed to get a man on the inside, and apparently, this 'Blood Apostle' is going to be making some sort of big speech. Sorceress's divinations show that he's the only one in the Bertinelli Skathites that knows any real magic, so if we take him out…."
Rose nods. "Smart. No more rituals, no new soldiers, no leadership…"
She laughs, lips twisting into a vicious smirk. "I do love a decapitating blow."
I can feel Raven roll her eyes next to me.
"Also" I say, "we'll have to avoid using any firearms. The one thing I've managed to see clearly in my divinations is that Blood Apostle has some sort of mass spell that renders gunpowder inert, and has been saving it as a nasty surprise for us."
Sofia nods. "We're currently training our suldati with melee weapons, but that's going to be another disadvantage, albeit one made up for by Lion's Blood. Thank you again to Silver Sorceress for that."
I smirk. Man, what can't I bring to the table?
Sofia goes on to explain our positioning, and the exact plans we should be using in several different scenarios. She's an excellent leader, really: she has a sharp tactical mind, but not one that's inflexible enough to not take suggestions from others.
It takes us about an hour to finish, and once we do, we all head off. Jinx takes a smaller detachment of men for a series of lightning raids around Bertinelli territory, while the rest of us join up with the remaining 200 Sofia has available to her and prepare to crash the Skathites' party.
PoV: Chryssa the Golden Archer
"I'm sorry, but no" I say. "No offense meant, but I'm just not comfortable with letting someone I barely know into my head."
We're currently flying towards the area of the 'shindig' the old-timer at Flannigan's church mentioned, with everyone but Zatanna — who's concentrating trying to track large uses of magic — discussing battle plans.
"I won't look at anything, I promise!"
It's not exactly looking at my mind that I'm worried about, but I'm not socially incompetent to bring up the big "M.C."
"Telepathic communication allows us to coordinate more effectively on the battlefield" Aqualad says. "M'gann is quite private, I assure you."
He frowns, realizing something. "And if you are worried about… other aspects of the bond, do not. The level of telepathy M'gann uses is very light, far far less than what is necessary for… other things."
"Also" Robin says, "there are some moments in fights where we just… flow, together. Like we're all communicating without even talking."
Miss Martian is smiling widely. "On Mars, we actually call that a V'narr, it's considered a sign of comradely bonding!"
"I get it" I say, and I can tell my smile is insincere. "But… I'd just be more comfortable if I didn't, okay? At least not yet."
Not ever, more like, but I'm not rude enough to say that out loud.
I gesture towards my earpiece. "This is what I use to talk to Robin on missions, so if you have something to say to me, just tell him, alright? He can let me know."
Aqualad frowns, but eventually nods. "Very well."
PoV: Silver Sorceress
I watch, as two Falcone suldati slam what look like repurposed Epi-Pens into their bodies, tensing as the formula inside enters their bloodstream.
This isn't epinephrine though, it's Lion's Blood, the fruit of that… that unpleasantness of last week.
I shudder. I know they weren't exactly sympathetic characters, but still, to die like that…
I can still hear the screams, when I sleep.
Raven looks at me strangely, but I wave her off, my smile tight.
Regardless of my feelings on them, the trials worked, and ever since I gave him the Grail of the Lions a week ago, Carmine's been producing as much Lion's Blood as he possibly can.
I watch as the man bends over, muscles tensing and swelling. He won't bulk up to the proportions of a street Venom user, let alone the distilled stuff Bane and his lieutenants use — only about two to three times his current strength, by my estimate — but in return, he'll probably live past the next six years. He lets out a yell of triumph as he stands up, crushing the hard plastic Epi-Pen in his fist like it's made of balsa wood.
Killer Moth, who's standing next to him, already enhanced by my repurposed Skathite ritual, claps him on the back with a laugh.
Despite myself, I smile in triumph. I do love seeing people enjoy my work.
"Damn" Rose says, looking over the writhing forms with a grin, "Never gets old. Any chance I could get me some of that?"
I shake my head. "Not if you want me to be able to do what your father wants. I need to start with as good a base template as I can."
Raven floats up next to me. "You're responsible for whatever that is?"
I nod, turning to her as Rose wanders away. "I call it Lion's Blood. A bioalchemical formula which increases strength, speed, and durability, anywhere from two to three times. Pure power, lasts for several hours, and no harmful side-effects, unlike some other formulas."
She raises an eyebrow. "You feel almost smug about that?"
I shrug. "What can I say? It really is a brilliant bit of bioalchemy. I'm proud of my work, and rightfully so."
Maybe not so rightfully.
Raven looks at me strangely. "…Alright."
I chuckle, and if it's a little forced, neither of us comment on it. "You clearly haven't been spending enough time with Ravager, if you think that's smug."
Raven frowns. "No, I think I've been spending exactly the right amount of time with her."
I raise an eyebrow. "Not a fan?"
Raven shakes her head. "Her emotions remind me of… well, of someone I don't like remembering very much. Cruel, predatory, greedy, ruthless. Even Carmine feels love for his daughter, and his people, but her… she's like a shark."
"That's… not an inaccurate assessment."
I shrug. "At least she seems to like me well enough?"
Raven glances me out of the corner of her eye. "You really think that would stop her?"
I grimace.
"So, not to change the subject" I say, totally changing the subject, "but I've actually been meaning to give you something."
I hold out a smooth stone, with runes inscribed on it.
"I've already given one to the rest of the team, but yours took a minute to make so…"
She puts it inside one of her shadows — handy trick, that — and looks at me with a raised eyebrow.
"It's a recall beacon, a one-way teleport. If you're ever in trouble you can't get out of during the fight, just use it, and it'll take you to my Sanctum. It should last about a week."
She stares at me with a strange expression, but eventually nods.
"What?" I ask.
"…Why me?"
I snort. "I mean, I just said I already gave one to everyone else."
"…One that leads to your Sanctum?"
I look away, fighting down a cough. "That's… I just… I don't know if you'd be safe since they tracked you down once, and my wards are very robust."
What? Look, it's pure pragmatism, alright? Raven's a valuable asset, and she's a known target to people who have scrying magic. It'd be a massive shame if pure bad luck was the reason we lost access to a fighter of her caliber.
I mean, I may feel a little responsible for her, having found her chained up in the basement, and the Sanctum does feel a little lonely with just me in it, but it's pure pragmatism, really!
I'm not… reaching out, or making friends, or any of that ridiculous hippy-dippy nonsense. This is pure business.
I don't need anyone.
"Thanks" Raven says, shooting me a small smile. "I appreciate it, really."
We fall into a silence after that, with me very purposefully not looking at her.
"So…" I eventually say, "You have any plans for what happens after this? I know the Falcones would love to have you."
"No" she says, and I'm surprised as the vehemence in her tone, "not them."
I raise an eyebrow.
She shakes her head. "I'm not a monster. I won't be a monster. And if I joined them, that's what I'd become. I'd end up like her."
"And here I thought I was the seer."
"You don't have to be, to see the type of people they are."
I pause, a sinking feeling in my gut. "So… why not join the heroes, if you're that opposed to those of us on this side of the law?"
She tilts her head, and hums consideringly.
I feel my stomach drop. Fucking knew it.
She shakes her head. "I said 'monster', not 'villain'."
I raise an eyebrow, and she turns to me, gaze indecipherable. "Take it from an empath: what side of the law you're on has very little to do with what kind of person you are."
I chuckle darkly. "Don't I know it."
The GCPD has the reputation it does for a reason, after all, even after Gordon kicked the worst of the offenders out. Oh, sure, it's less blatant now, but their patrol patterns still tend to congregate around certain neighborhoods, if you know what I mean. Not to mention that even though they aren't allowed to mug you at the end anymore, they'll still stop you for a "random spot check" if you're any shade darker than mildly singed toast.
And she thinks she can change the system from the inside. I may not be Lonnie, but even I know what a stupid idea that is.
Eventually, I broach the subject that's been dancing at the back of my head for the past few days. "So… if you're not going to work for the Falcones… what are you going to do after this?"
She shrugs. "Not sure. I used to work in a library, back in… well, back before I came to Gotham, so maybe do that?"
I swallow. "Well… I know you said you don't know much about magic. If you'd be open to it… would you want to learn?"
"What exactly do you mean?"
"You know, you could… stick around with me? And I could teach you?"
She stares at me long enough that I start to feel self-conscious, my hand open, the silence stretching out between us.
I knew it, I fucking knew it, I knew this was a stupid idea. I barely even know her, she's just going to brush me off, and leave me alone again, just like-
"Alright."
"That's ok, I under- wait, really?"
She raises an eyebrow.
"Great!" I say. "I mean, uh… Good. Normal. I'll be glad to work with you."
Someone with as much magical potential as her will make a valuable ally, especially if she's trained, and she'll feel tied to me if I'm the one to do it.
I'm not lonely, shut up, brain. I'm doing fine, I don't need anyone else to be happy. I'm in control.
"Just don't be weird about it" she says flatly.
"You don't have to worry about that" I say, doing my best to smile.
She chuckles. "Whatever you say, dork."
"Hey" I say, feeling a smile form on my lips despite my best wishes, "call me Argyra."
PoV: Chryssa the Golden Archer
By the time we've arrived at the 'shindig' — in a fucking camouflaged spaceship, by the fucking way, as I've been doing my best to not lost my shit over, because holy shit I'm in an actual fucking Martian spaceship this is so fucking cool — things have already gone to hell in a handbasket.
The ground is positively swarming with suld- goons clad in the characteristic purple and black of the Falcones and the red of the Bertinellis. Many of the latter aren't just wearing red, but glowing red too, jagged lines opening up on their body as they swell with demonic might.
Well, I guess Robin's guess about Flannigan's blood mages being the same people as the Bertinelli Skathites is right.
Dotted throughout the crowd are several scaly, demonic-looking abominations breathing fire on screaming Falcone goons — those must be the underbosses — along with the various capes on both sides.
I swallow, my heart thumping uncomfortable in my chest as I spy on particular cape, clad in a silver costume that's been burrowing at the corners of my mind for the past month.
There's a figure to the back of the crowd, draped in all-red, practically glowing with magical power. I raise my binoculars to peer at what can only be the cult's leader.
Yep, that's Flannigan. Looks like my guess was right, too.
He's surrounded by what looks like an honor guard of cultists, and lobbing blasts of blood-red fire int the melee. He pauses, and slowly, to my horror, turns to look directly at me through my binoculars.
He draws his hand back, blood swirling in his palm.
"Guys…" I say, pointing.
"What is i-"
Flannigan stretches out his hand, and blood-red lightning tears its way through the air, slamming into the side of the ship.
I'm thrown across the cabin from where I'm standing, and by the time I regain my senses, the ship is down, and I'm lying on the ground, dozens of feet away.
I make my way to my feet, beholding the absolute carnage of the melee, the other heroes nowhere in sight.
Well, shit.
PoV: Silver Sorceress
A great red bolt of lightning flashes across the sky, and I pause from my attempts to use geokinetic spells to bury a series of Skathites alive.
I look around, ignoring the cries of the Bertinellis buried beneath the concrete.
Nothing.
I raise my hand to my ear. "Anyone know what the hell that was about?"
Raven's voice buzzes in my ear, and I see her shadows stop their attempts to choke several cultists the next block down. "I saw some sort of ship get hit by lightning, and felt panic from it. I didn't notice it earlier, with all these people. I tried to reach out to them, but there's some sort of interference."
She growls. "I don't like it."
I have a sinking feeling I know exactly who's just crashed the party.
I frown. It doesn't matter. If she wants to stick her nose somewhere it doesn't belong, I'm not going to stop her when she gets it cut off.
I turn back to the fight, losing myself into the rhythm of it. It's like an endless dance, the steps coordinated in front of me in my loom-sight. I teleport rings around the various cultists, using every spell I can think of to deal with them.
What? I know how to have fun.
But no, I really do have to be serious here. Skathites are serious fucking business, and each one of these cultists can hit like a fucking truck.
Not literally, thankfully, that's only the underbosses.
It's when I'm using Medusa's Lightning on one of them, the static-grey bolts slowly turning his legs to stone, that I feel a tingling on the back of my neck.
Not now, can't be distracted… These guys are tough, as tough as Marco the Cultist, I can't let up for even a moment or I'll-
It's when I hear the fiery explosion behind me, coming from an arrow embedded into the jaw of Doctor Phosphorus, that I realize I was millisecond away from being roasted alive.
That…
I…
Holy fuck, holy fuck.
I whip around, turning to see my unexpected savior. Who do I need to give a thousand-
It's a figure, crouched on a nearby fire escape, clad in a golden costume that's been haunting my dreams for the past month.
I growl. "Of fucking course it's you."
"Me." she says, voice smug.
I snarl, turning to Doctor Phosphorus, teleporting away to avoid the flames he's about to send at me. "I don't need your help."
"Really?" she says, smirking as she launches an arrow at the skeletal villain, sending him reeling with another explosion. Fuck, I was just about to blast him!
"Because to me, it looks like this 'ordinary mortal' just saved your bacon."
I readjust my aim, turning my blast to full-power and sending him careening off into the crowd, towards where a boy in a Superman t-shirt is fighting off three Bertinellis at once.
Fuck my life.
Which she just saved, holy shit, holy shit.
PoV: Chryssa the Golden Archer
I shoot off an arrow at another cultist next to her, and ignore how my heart thumps when she catches my gaze.
She sniffs. "You seem to always turn up in the most unfortunate places."
I kick a cultist in the head, sending him stumbling back, before webbing him up with an arrow. "It was fortunate for you, the way you didn't turn around."
"I could have dodged" she says, blasting away another cultist.
I smirk, firing off another net arrow. "Sure you could have. And that's five for me, by the way."
She looks at me, gaze narrowing.
With a twirl that makes her costume flutter in the wind, she turns around, raising her hands. Jets of acid-green lightning shoot out, and a group of cultists drops the ground, alive but smoking. "Four."
Oh, that's how it's going to be, is it?
I reach back into my quiver, and start rapid-firing net arrows.
I feel the ground rumble behind me as Er- as Sorceress does something.
"Eleven!"
I curse. "Ten."
Eventually, we end up back to back, creating a circle of unconscious and foamed-up goons around us.
When it's 21 me to 22 her, she hums. "You kept it."
"What?"
"The pendant."
I look down, and yes, there it is, ripped free by some cultist's blade. I do my best to secure it inside of my costume.
I scowl, shooting another cultist. "It's useful, despite its unfortunate origin."
She chuckles as she blasts lightning from her fingers, and there's a note of sadness behind it. "I don't think you have to worry about that today. Skathite offensive magic doesn't do much mind-warping unless you're the one using it."
"Still useful" I say with a shrug, firing off another arrow.
Overhead, a cultist goes flying, caught in Miss Martian's telekinetic hold.
She tilts her head. "Ah, so that's why. I don't blame you, I wouldn't trust a Martian in my head either."
My eyes narrow. "Miss Martian is a good person, and a good hero."
Er- Sorceress smirks. "And yet…"
I scowl at her, nailing a cultist with a net arrow. "Shut the fuck up."
"Fine" Eri says with a smirk, stunning a cultist with lightning, "whatever you say, Chryssa. You're very trusting, absolutely."
I leap up, and she obligingly raises a hand, giving me a platform to flip off of so I can hit a group of three cultists from the air. "Yeah, I wonder if there's anything in my past that could have made me reluctant to trust others."
I try not to take too much pleasure in how she growls.
A little ways past, I see a blood-soaked, silver-haired figure emerge from a pile of cultists, splitting one head-to-groin with a sword.
Ravager.
Fuck, fuck, what is she doing here?
I've been aware of Deathstroke's daughter for a while — her eager, grinning participation in her father's crimes has always been a sort of dark mirror to my own life — so I know that she normally does solo jobs, usually overseas.
So what the hell is she doing here?
Actually, it doesn't matter. I might never get a better opportunity to take that maniac off the streets.
I pull back my bow, stringing up an arrow and aiming it for the girl…
Until another silver-haired figure steps in front of me.
Ravager spots the motion, and takes in the scene in an instant from dozens of yards away. She laughs, blows us a kiss, and turns back to the fight.
What.
I glare at her. "Move."
She frowns. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that."
"Er- Sorceress, that's Ravager."
She raises an eyebrow. "And?"
I growl. "You know who she is, right? International assassin? Daughter of the most dangerous serial killer on the planet?"
She rolls her eyes. "Ro- Ravager has been invaluable for fighting the Skathites, I'm not going to turn her away because of some… some moral quibble about what she does in her off hours."
"'What she does in her off-hours'? Are you serious! She's a mass-murdering assassin! How many fucking innocent people do you think she's put in the ground?"
Sorceress swallows, and it's only from over a decade of knowing her that I can see the uncertainty behind her eyes. "She's… She's been helpful. For fighting the Skathites. Isn't that worth ignoring everything else she's done?"
I stare at her. "Are you asking me, or telling me?"
Her eyes narrow. "I'm telling you, asshole. She's been working with Carmine to take down the cult, I'm not going to just stab her in the back by letting you take her out."
"You're not- You would be saving literally dozens of lives!"
She scoffs. "Would I? Or would whoever was going to hire her just hire someone else? Thinking you can stop those people's deaths by taking out Ravager is like thinking you can stop all crime by smashing a specific gun."
"So what, we should just allow her to go on killing people, because someone would do it anyways? She's 'just following orders'?"
"No, what I'm saying is, it's none of my fucking business if she chooses to be a gun or not. It's not like those people are going to end up any less dead."
"So what, you don't care because she's just following orders?"
"Oh don't even. I don't have to listen to your moralizing bullshit anymore, Chryssa. Who I work for, with, or under is no longer your business."
"Under?" I ask.
After a second, I get it, and groan.
"Oh fucking gods- God" — I ignore her flash of hurt at my self-correction — "don't tell me you're actually sleeping with her."
"And if I am?" she says with a scowl.
I growl. "Are you fucking kidding me? It's one thing to work with someone like that, but to actually- to actually-"
"Actually what?" she says with a positively lascivious smirk. "Because let me tell you, we've 'actually'-ed just about everything. Say what you want about the screams of the innocent, because she can certainly make me scream."
I growl, rushing towards her with a raised fist. She blocks, sending a fist back at my head, but I grab it, sending her flying towards the ground.
I move to stomp on her, but she rolls out of the way, grinning. "Still acting like you're entitled to control my life, hm."
"'Don't sleep with serial killers' isn't exactly the Handmaid's Tale, Sorceress." I punch her, but she flows out of the way with almost supernatural reflexes.
Shit, precognition, right. Nothing "almost" about it.
I take a moment to send a foam arrow at a cultist behind her who's about to interrupt the battle, and she takes my moment of inattention to come flying at me. "So what, I'm just supposed to ignore her when she offers her help?"
I'm just better than her though, even despite the advantage her precognition gives her, and I catch her telegraphed punch easily and send her slamming into the ground once again, this time with my knee on her chest.
I jerk my head towards where the girl in question is currently cackling as she shoves her sword all the way up a crying man until it exists the head, Tepeș-style. "No, but it means that when you do, you cosign that."
Er- Sorceress looks conflicted for a moment, but ends up scowling. "Oh, fuck off. Not all of us have the luxury of working with Batman."
My eyes soften. "You could, if you wanted. It's not too late."
For just a moment, I can see that she looks tempted. A scream from the battle splits the air, and her expression shudders, closing off. "Oh fuck off" she spits. "Don't lecture me like you're better than me, Little Miss Cop."
Before I can respond, her eyes widen, glancing at something behind me, and I have to jump off before a cultist can slam his hand right where my head used to be.
I pull out my bow, shooting off a net arrow, trapping the snarling, red-eyed man.
I turn back to Er- Sorceress, ready to start where we left off, but before I can, my earpiece buzzes. She twitches at almost the same time, raising a hand to her own ear.
"Chryssa" Robin says, voice tinny through the speaker, "disengage with Silver Sorceress. The cultists are the main enemy, not the Falcones, remember that."
I frown, glaring across at my former best friend, whose expression matches mine.
"We'll finish this, later" I say.
"I'll be counting on it" she says, glaring, and then flashes away to some other part of the battlefield.
Just in time too, because it looks like the goons at the end of the alley are finally making their way through.
Of fucking course that bitch leaves me to deal with them.
I shoot another foam arrow at them, and in the tight confines of the alley they can't dodge. I throw myself up onto the fire escape, running around the trapped cultists, and plop down to where I can see Robin holding off a series of goons.
I dodge the errant blow of a Falcone — I can tell by the purple undershirt — and drop down next to my crime-fighting partner. "How're we doing?"
He stares at me.
I look away, to launch a net arrow at a cultist, and look back.
"Shit, sorry" he says, "I forgot you're not in the… Right, things are good. The Falcones seem to be after the same thing we are, but are sometimes clashing with us when we run across them. The cultists are crazy though, they're in some sort of blood rage, so they're still the bigger threat. We're going to try to converge on the warehouse at the center, take out the guy on top."
I nod, prepping another arrow. The next several minutes dissolve into a blur of attack and counter-attack.
Launch an arrow, punch a goon, dodge an attack, it almost becomes monotonous.
Well, until one of the hulking underbosses grabs me, tossing me across the battlefield to land on a crowd of goons.
I cast my electric hand spell grabbing onto the leg of the man under me, and flip up.
Thankfully, it seems that the people I crashed into are just as disoriented as I am, and I quickly set off a foam arrow, flipping away before I can get caught in the expanding mass.
I look around. Fortunately for me, this seems to be a calmer part of the giant melee.
I punch a red-clad goon in the face before he can hit me with a crowbar.
Well, for a certain value of "calm".
Unfortunately for me, I don't see any of my allies. The only other cape here is…
"Again?" my former best friend says, glaring at me as she impales a man on a spear of earth. "Gods, you're like a mosquito."
I barely resist the urge to send an arrow at her.
"A mosquito that just saved your ass" I say, sending an explosive arrow at a particularly tough-looking goon, sending him careening into the side of a building. "Looks like there's more to life than book smarts, isn't there?"
She glares at me, but before she can respond, the underboss that sent me flying here lands in front of us, cratering the ground.
"You're gonna die, you little twerps!"
PoV: Silver Sorceress
"You're gonna die, you little twerps!"
I roll my eyes. 'Twerps', seriously? What is this, middle school? He reminds me of that asshole that me and Ar-
No, focus! Dangerous threat in front of you. Dealing with her can come later.
Apparently, the supremely annoying hero next to me has the same idea. We look towards each other, and nod. I can tell it might be even more grudging for her than it is for me.
I send out a Scythe of Fate, but the underboss waves his hand, creating a red, flaky shield out of his own blood. The blade eats into it, but the shield holds, taking both the Scythe and an explosive arrow without shattering.
Shit, that's a new trick.
He collapses the shield back into a pool of blood, which turns into a series of spikes, that he sharpens and sends careening towards us. Ar- Chryssa backflips away, and I blink to the underboss's other side.
I charge up a blast, to full strength, sending a Moon Laser screaming right at the underboss's head. Unfortunately, he holds up another one of those infuriating blood shields, and deflects it right into the top of a nearby building.
I teleport out of the way of the spear of blood he sends at me, using my staff to send a Scythe of Fate arcing directly into one of his kneecaps. He sends out a wave of blood, knocking Ar- Chryssa away into the crowd.
I grimace at the way my heart skips a beat at her yelp.
Focus on the fight, Eri.
The underboss waves his hand, sending another spear of blood, and I blink to the side. I jab forward, sending out a bolt of actual, non-Medusa lightning, but the underboss just laughs off the mild burns.
Right, slice-and-dice it is.
I duck under the crowbar that a cultist swings at me and launch another Scythe of Fate, which gouges out a deep wound into his leg.
Huh, looks like this one isn't nearly as tough as Marco the Cultist was.
Before he can recover, I charge up a full-strength Moon Laster, and blast a deep gouge into his neck. I follow it up with a more physical touch, swinging my staff to slam into his head, the enchantment on it magnifying the force of my blow to dent his face inwards.
I smile. Sometimes, there's nothing like some good-old-fashioned elbow grease.
Another cultist rushes me, and I charge up a Moon Laser, aiming it at his legs.
PoV: Chryssa the Golden Archer
I grimace as the underboss waves his hand, a shield of blood appearing to deflect my very temporary ally's laser into the top of a building.
Damnit, what is it going to take to put this guy down?
He waves an arm, sending a wave of blood at me, knocking me away into the crowd.
I land on my side, head cracking into the skull of a cultist, and I feel a buzz of static as my earpiece shatters.
Fuck.
Thankfully, the collision seems to have dazed him, and I quickly use my electric hand spell to knock him out.
I flip up, looking around, to see that the underboss knocked me almost a half block down the street. There are a series of dueling goons around me.
I move to launch an arrow, but a movement at the corner of my eye makes me stop, and look up to the hole the deflected laser-blast drilled in the top of a building a block down the street. It's an old man in a bathrobe, dangling out of the hole blasted into one of the top stories of the building.
Holy shit, someone needs to save her. I turn to silver-clad cape, who finally seems to have killed the underboss. "E- Sorceress!"
Fuck, no luck.
I look around for the other heroes. "Guys!?"
I try pointing and gesturing to the building, but everyone's too focused on their own fights. I reach up to my earpiece, but curse, as I hear nothing but static.
Right.
I turn to the silver-clad witch, opening up the ground underneath a group of cultists. "Silver Sorceress!"
Fuck, she's too far away.
"ARGYRA!"
The witch in question jerks, her laser missing its target, and whirls around. After a moment she scowls, and teleports in front of me, throwing up a giant bell shield to block off the dueling goons in front of us.
"What."
I point up at the person dangling from the building. "Please, do something! I know you can!"
She looks up at the man dangling, and then back at me. "…What, you finally realize that-"
I growl. "Please just save him!"
She rolls her eyes, and moves towards the man, until pausing. She looks back at the cultists, about to crack the shield protecting us.
Before she can move, another figure lands next to us, silver hair flowing from underneath her hood.
"Head in the game, Sorceress" she drawls. "Ignore the traitor. Raven is fighting Blood Apostle, your real friends need your help."
She stares at the assassin for what feels like an eternity, and I feel my heart drop into my stomach.
"I'm sorry" Silver Sorceress says, gaze hardening as she turns her back to the man, "but I'm no hero. That's out of the range of my teleportation, since I've never been there before. It'd take me ages to reach him. Rooting out the cancer is more important than a single mortal life, especially one that chose to stand up there like an idiot."
The shield collapses, and she blasts the top half off of a cultist with a silver laser, leaving his legs and torso to flop to the ground.
I feel my hands shake, my eyes wide.
…Fine, then.
My hands still, resolve firm, and I reach under my costume, to take out my mind-protection amulet.
Sorceress looks at me wide-eyed, but I just turn away,
I take a deep breath, and jerk my hand downwards, ripping the string off.
MISS MARTIAN!
I shiver as I feel her reach out to form the psychic connection.
[Chryssa? What are you-]
[There's no time! Look at the building on the far side of the street. There's a man who's about to fall out!]
I feel Kid Flash's attention focus on me. [I got it!]
As I see the red-and-yellow blur running up the stairs inside the apartment to reach the eleventh floor, I smile.
He didn't even hesitate for a second, did he?
[Chryssa, come North. Zatanna and I need your assistance.]
I nod, and begin moving, tying up the legs of cultists who get in my way with net arrows. I scoot to a stop right behind Zatanna, who's freezing cultists in large block of ice.
I reach out, using my electric hand spell to knock out a man with a crowbar before he can interrupt her spellcasting.
She turns to me, raising her eyebrows. [Was that magic? Where'd you learn-]
I frown, and I can tell the link carries my sheer feeling of please-can-we-not-talk-about-this-ness.
[What can I do to help?]
Zatanna grimaces. [Right, sorry, not the time. Can you fight off the others? We're trying to freeze them so the Falcones can't kill them, but Aqualad can't manipulate water when he's fighting off cultists.]
I look at the ice. [Won't the underbosses just melt them out?]
Zatanna looks at me strangely. [The what?]
I roll my eyes, and concentrate, sending a mental image. [The big scaly guys, Bertinelli lieutenants.]
[Right. No, I can enchant it against melting.]
I hum, looking at the ice considering, thinking back to the view of the battlefield from the Bioship. I try to project the image into her head. [Do you know if we could…]
Aqualad turns, having caught some of our conversation. [An excellent idea, can you hold them off?]
I smile. Maybe there is something to telepathy, after all.
I send back the mental image of a nod.
The next minute passes by in a blur, as I desperately shoot off arrow after arrow at the attackers. Explosive, net, foam, I use everything I can to hold off the waves as Aqualad and Zatanna move and freeze giant waves of water from a nearby hydrant.
Thank the gods for that enchanted quiver Green Arrow gave me, or I'd have run out ages ago. Apparently, there's someone over in Star City who makes them for him.
Huh, wonder if it's the same guy Mr. Merlyn used to use? He loved that quiver of his, kept holding it over me during training saying that he'd get me one if I did well enough.
He never did, of course, even when I passed all his tests, but that's the League of Shadows for you.
Finally, the two heroes seem to be done with their project, and with a final "Nehtgnerts!" on the wall of enchanted ice they've created Zatanna leaps back over to me.
[There] I hear her in my head, [That ought to make things a bit more difficult for them.]
I smirk nastily.
We've essentially divided the battlefield in half, sectioning off a good portion of the dueling Falcone and Bertinelli goons from the capes and more static fighters. Even better, I can see a flash of Kid Flash's perspective, showing how Doctor Phosphorus and most of the underbosses are on the opposite side of the field, dueling Sorceress and that new shadow-wielder she brought along with her, totally out of position to actually melt the ice.
I concentrate, and try to send back the mental impression of my satisfaction. [This means…]
[Correct], I hear from Aqualad, [now, we have a clear path to Flannigan, and to ending this madness.]
As one, we surge forward, moving forward from our various positions towards the center.
An underboss, transformed into a hulking beast with a leather hide, runs at us, moving to melt a hole in the wall.
Huh. You know, he reminds me a lot of Executioner…
I send a mental image towards Aqualad and Zatanna. After a moment of deliberation, Aqualad nods, and sends back another to the both of us.
Zatanna raises a hand, sending out jagged bolts of lightning at the underboss's face with a "Ygrene tlob!"
Aqualad starts calling water forth from his… huh "water-bearers"? I mean, I guess there's no harm in a descriptive name…
I feel Aqualad's amusement as I pull back the string of my bow, shooting two arrows at the cultist's legs at he raises his arms to block Zatanna's attacks.
The Bertinelli lets out a laugh, long and hissing, as the burns on his arms begin healing. "It'll take a lot more than that to put me down, girlie…"
"I know" Zatanna says, smirking. "That's why those were just a distraction."
At that moment, the arrows in his legs explode, sending foam gushing out to cover his legs.
"The fuck is…"
Before he can even finish his sentence, we're moving as one. Aqualad forms the cloud of water into a series of spears.
Zatanna waves a hand. "Neprahs!"
The spears glow with a white light. The underboss is starting to crack to foam, but that's fine: it doesn't have to last for more than a few seconds.
I cast my telekinesis spell, latching onto the spears as Aqualad sends them hurtling down at the underboss's legs. I mentally point out the spots to aim at, using a few gentle nudges from my spell to guide them into the precise right spots under his kneecap
They sink into the flesh, and he yells in pain. "You little fucks! I'm gonna fucking destroy you."
Zatanna smirks. "You first. Ezeerf!"
As any third grader can tell you, ice expands as it cools. That means that as the water-spears inside the underboss's legs rapidly freeze over, they get bigger, ripping apart the delicate structures of his knees.
I smirk. Doesn't matter how tough you are, weak points are still weak points.
The underboss shrieks in agony, abandoning all attempts to free himself from the foam. Aqualad forms his water-bearers into a mace, and begins laying an absolutely vicious beat-down on the helpless cultist, dancing around the immobile figure. Zatanna and I cover him, holding off the various goons that try to rush us once they see their leader is losing with a series of spells and arrows
After about half a minute, the underboss finally goes limp, and the Atlantean draws back.
Unfortunately, we don't have time to celebrate, as a new wave of goons seems to crash against us, and we're suddenly fighting for our lives.
I lose myself in the rhythms of combat, shooting, stabbing, and kicking what seems like an endless wave of enemies, fighting back-to-back with Zatanna and Aqualad.
And eventually… I feel it. The flow, the gestalt, the V'narr.
It's not like that we're all sharing the same mind, but just that our minds borders go a bit fuzzy, with thoughts and ideas passing forth from one to the other. Pooled together, our collective is greater than anything
And it's not just that, I can feel them. Their focus, their fear, their determination. Their joy, their focus, their anxiety. All of it becomes ours.
It's a type of connection I don't think I could describe in words.
I see shadows forming a cage, imprisoning Miss Martian. That gray girl, she has something like what we have, but different. It's strange, none of us like it, and apparently the feeling is mutual.
Hmm, I wonder if they could they be dispersed by…
Robin moves over, using a flashbang. It weakens it, temporarily, but enough that Miss Martian can break her way out with telekinesis.
Kid Flash moves to punch Doctor Phosphorus while his back is turned, only to pass right through him.
Atom-Master, he has an illusion-creating helmet.
Huh, I could have sworn he was a meta.
Regardless though, I remember Brianna telling me about some job her dad had, cleaning up the fight between Atom-Master and his rival, Mirage. And the rumors I heard around my apartment about Mirage signing on with the Falcones.
Zatanna holds her hands out in front of her. "Etacol egarim! Etacol mota retsam!"
A bright spot lights up in our collective mental sight. Superboy is closest, and he grabs mirage, flinging her at Atom-Master's real location.
There, those two should take care of each other.
Superboy then turns, facing to where Robin can see Doctor Phosphorus battling Mammoth. He's the only one who isn't hurt by his flames, so he needs to be the one to fight him. Zatanna tried the only fire-protection spell she knows earlier in the fight, and the skeleton's fire melted right through it.
Thankfully, Robin knows that his fire isn't actually radioactive, it's more of an acid, he thinks that's the best way to describe it.
We pull back the string of my bow, and fight.
Why was I ever afraid of this?
AN: Discussion is the thing that keeps the fire of motivation burning inside me, so if you read the chapter and liked it, please make sure to comment. I read every single one, and each of them brightens my day.
If you want inside scoops, I talk about story stuff and get writing feedback on the Fifth World Problems Discord server. And if you really like my writing, you can tip me on my ko-fi page. If I get enough interest I may or may not set up a Patreon.
Optional theme music is "Rockin' the Suburbs" by Ben Folds, for some reason I can't quite articulate.
PoV: Silver Sorceress
"It took us a while, but we've finally located their base." Sofia says, as we sit in the briefing room.
She points to a spot on the map, where a push-pin marks down a spot at the docks in the suburbs right outside town
"Thank you so much Silver Sorceress, for the help with scrying."
I just nod. It took me a while, and I mean a while to finally suss them out under their wards, but I was finally able to figure out a way to punch through.
"We know they've just had some big initiation ceremony, with a hundred new cultists enhanced, the most yet. They're having a celebration because of it tonight, all of them'll be in one place."
"And we want to attack now?!" Jinx asks.
"Yes" Sofia says, "because it's the only time their leader will actually be out in the open. We managed to get a man on the inside, and apparently, this 'Blood Apostle' is going to be making some sort of big speech. Sorceress's divinations show that he's the only one in the Bertinelli Skathites that knows any real magic, so if we take him out…."
Rose nods. "Smart. No more rituals, no new soldiers, no leadership…"
She laughs, lips twisting into a vicious smirk. "I do love a decapitating blow."
I can feel Raven roll her eyes next to me.
"Also" I say, "we'll have to avoid using any firearms. The one thing I've managed to see clearly in my divinations is that Blood Apostle has some sort of mass spell that renders gunpowder inert, and has been saving it as a nasty surprise for us."
Sofia nods. "We're currently training our suldati with melee weapons, but that's going to be another disadvantage, albeit one made up for by Lion's Blood. Thank you again to Silver Sorceress for that."
I smirk. Man, what can't I bring to the table?
Sofia goes on to explain our positioning, and the exact plans we should be using in several different scenarios. She's an excellent leader, really: she has a sharp tactical mind, but not one that's inflexible enough to not take suggestions from others.
It takes us about an hour to finish, and once we do, we all head off. Jinx takes a smaller detachment of men for a series of lightning raids around Bertinelli territory, while the rest of us join up with the remaining 200 Sofia has available to her and prepare to crash the Skathites' party.
PoV: Chryssa the Golden Archer
"I'm sorry, but no" I say. "No offense meant, but I'm just not comfortable with letting someone I barely know into my head."
We're currently flying towards the area of the 'shindig' the old-timer at Flannigan's church mentioned, with everyone but Zatanna — who's concentrating trying to track large uses of magic — discussing battle plans.
"I won't look at anything, I promise!"
It's not exactly looking at my mind that I'm worried about, but I'm not socially incompetent to bring up the big "M.C."
"Telepathic communication allows us to coordinate more effectively on the battlefield" Aqualad says. "M'gann is quite private, I assure you."
He frowns, realizing something. "And if you are worried about… other aspects of the bond, do not. The level of telepathy M'gann uses is very light, far far less than what is necessary for… other things."
"Also" Robin says, "there are some moments in fights where we just… flow, together. Like we're all communicating without even talking."
Miss Martian is smiling widely. "On Mars, we actually call that a V'narr, it's considered a sign of comradely bonding!"
"I get it" I say, and I can tell my smile is insincere. "But… I'd just be more comfortable if I didn't, okay? At least not yet."
Not ever, more like, but I'm not rude enough to say that out loud.
I gesture towards my earpiece. "This is what I use to talk to Robin on missions, so if you have something to say to me, just tell him, alright? He can let me know."
Aqualad frowns, but eventually nods. "Very well."
PoV: Silver Sorceress
I watch, as two Falcone suldati slam what look like repurposed Epi-Pens into their bodies, tensing as the formula inside enters their bloodstream.
This isn't epinephrine though, it's Lion's Blood, the fruit of that… that unpleasantness of last week.
I shudder. I know they weren't exactly sympathetic characters, but still, to die like that…
Raven looks at me strangely, but I wave her off, my smile tight.
Regardless of my feelings on them, the trials worked, and ever since I gave him the Grail of the Lions a week ago, Carmine's been producing as much Lion's Blood as he possibly can.
I watch as the man bends over, muscles tensing and swelling. He won't bulk up to the proportions of a street Venom user, let alone the distilled stuff Bane and his lieutenants use — only about two to three times his current strength, by my estimate — but in return, he'll probably live past the next six years. He lets out a yell of triumph as he stands up, crushing the hard plastic Epi-Pen in his fist like it's made of balsa wood.
Killer Moth, who's standing next to him, already enhanced by my repurposed Skathite ritual, claps him on the back with a laugh.
Despite myself, I smile in triumph. I do love seeing people enjoy my work.
"Damn" Rose says, looking over the writhing forms with a grin, "Never gets old. Any chance I could get me some of that?"
I shake my head. "Not if you want me to be able to do what your father wants. I need to start with as good a base template as I can."
Raven floats up next to me. "You're responsible for whatever that is?"
I nod, turning to her as Rose wanders away. "I call it Lion's Blood. A bioalchemical formula which increases strength, speed, and durability, anywhere from two to three times. Pure power, lasts for several hours, and no harmful side-effects, unlike some other formulas."
She raises an eyebrow. "You feel almost smug about that?"
I shrug. "What can I say? It really is a brilliant bit of bioalchemy. I'm proud of my work, and rightfully so."
Raven looks at me strangely. "…Alright."
I chuckle, and if it's a little forced, neither of us comment on it. "You clearly haven't been spending enough time with Ravager, if you think that's smug."
Raven frowns. "No, I think I've been spending exactly the right amount of time with her."
I raise an eyebrow. "Not a fan?"
Raven shakes her head. "Her emotions remind me of… well, of someone I don't like remembering very much. Cruel, predatory, greedy, ruthless. Even Carmine feels love for his daughter, and his people, but her… she's like a shark."
"That's… not an inaccurate assessment."
I shrug. "At least she seems to like me well enough?"
Raven glances me out of the corner of her eye. "You really think that would stop her?"
I grimace.
"So, not to change the subject" I say, totally changing the subject, "but I've actually been meaning to give you something."
I hold out a smooth stone, with runes inscribed on it.
"I've already given one to the rest of the team, but yours took a minute to make so…"
She puts it inside one of her shadows — handy trick, that — and looks at me with a raised eyebrow.
"It's a recall beacon, a one-way teleport. If you're ever in trouble you can't get out of during the fight, just use it, and it'll take you to my Sanctum. It should last about a week."
She stares at me with a strange expression, but eventually nods.
"What?" I ask.
"…Why me?"
I snort. "I mean, I just said I already gave one to everyone else."
"…One that leads to your Sanctum?"
I look away, fighting down a cough. "That's… I just… I don't know if you'd be safe since they tracked you down once, and my wards are very robust."
What? Look, it's pure pragmatism, alright? Raven's a valuable asset, and she's a known target to people who have scrying magic. It'd be a massive shame if pure bad luck was the reason we lost access to a fighter of her caliber.
I mean, I may feel a little responsible for her, having found her chained up in the basement, and the Sanctum does feel a little lonely with just me in it, but it's pure pragmatism, really!
I'm not… reaching out, or making friends, or any of that ridiculous hippy-dippy nonsense. This is pure business.
I don't need anyone.
"Thanks" Raven says, shooting me a small smile. "I appreciate it, really."
We fall into a silence after that, with me very purposefully not looking at her.
"So…" I eventually say, "You have any plans for what happens after this? I know the Falcones would love to have you."
"No" she says, and I'm surprised as the vehemence in her tone, "not them."
I raise an eyebrow.
She shakes her head. "I'm not a monster. I won't be a monster. And if I joined them, that's what I'd become. I'd end up like her."
"And here I thought I was the seer."
"You don't have to be, to see the type of people they are."
I pause, a sinking feeling in my gut. "So… why not join the heroes, if you're that opposed to those of us on this side of the law?"
She tilts her head, and hums consideringly.
I feel my stomach drop. Fucking knew it.
She shakes her head. "I said 'monster', not 'villain'."
I raise an eyebrow, and she turns to me, gaze indecipherable. "Take it from an empath: what side of the law you're on has very little to do with what kind of person you are."
I chuckle darkly. "Don't I know it."
The GCPD has the reputation it does for a reason, after all, even after Gordon kicked the worst of the offenders out. Oh, sure, it's less blatant now, but their patrol patterns still tend to congregate around certain neighborhoods, if you know what I mean. Not to mention that even though they aren't allowed to mug you at the end anymore, they'll still stop you for a "random spot check" if you're any shade darker than mildly singed toast.
And she thinks she can change the system from the inside. I may not be Lonnie, but even I know what a stupid idea that is.
Eventually, I broach the subject that's been dancing at the back of my head for the past few days. "So… if you're not going to work for the Falcones… what are you going to do after this?"
She shrugs. "Not sure. I used to work in a library, back in… well, back before I came to Gotham, so maybe do that?"
I swallow. "Well… I know you said you don't know much about magic. If you'd be open to it… would you want to learn?"
"What exactly do you mean?"
"You know, you could… stick around with me? And I could teach you?"
She stares at me long enough that I start to feel self-conscious, my hand open, the silence stretching out between us.
I knew it, I fucking knew it, I knew this was a stupid idea. I barely even know her, she's just going to brush me off, and leave me alone again, just like-
"Alright."
"That's ok, I under- wait, really?"
She raises an eyebrow.
"Great!" I say. "I mean, uh… Good. Normal. I'll be glad to work with you."
Someone with as much magical potential as her will make a valuable ally, especially if she's trained, and she'll feel tied to me if I'm the one to do it.
I'm not lonely, shut up, brain. I'm doing fine, I don't need anyone else to be happy. I'm in control.
"Just don't be weird about it" she says flatly.
"You don't have to worry about that" I say, doing my best to smile.
She chuckles. "Whatever you say, dork."
"Hey" I say, feeling a smile form on my lips despite my best wishes, "call me Argyra."
PoV: Chryssa the Golden Archer
By the time we've arrived at the 'shindig' — in a fucking camouflaged spaceship, by the fucking way, as I've been doing my best to not lost my shit over, because holy shit I'm in an actual fucking Martian spaceship this is so fucking cool — things have already gone to hell in a handbasket.
The ground is positively swarming with suld- goons clad in the characteristic purple and black of the Falcones and the red of the Bertinellis. Many of the latter aren't just wearing red, but glowing red too, jagged lines opening up on their body as they swell with demonic might.
Well, I guess Robin's guess about Flannigan's blood mages being the same people as the Bertinelli Skathites is right.
Dotted throughout the crowd are several scaly, demonic-looking abominations breathing fire on screaming Falcone goons — those must be the underbosses — along with the various capes on both sides.
I swallow, my heart thumping uncomfortable in my chest as I spy on particular cape, clad in a silver costume that's been burrowing at the corners of my mind for the past month.
There's a figure to the back of the crowd, draped in all-red, practically glowing with magical power. I raise my binoculars to peer at what can only be the cult's leader.
Yep, that's Flannigan. Looks like my guess was right, too.
He's surrounded by what looks like an honor guard of cultists, and lobbing blasts of blood-red fire int the melee. He pauses, and slowly, to my horror, turns to look directly at me through my binoculars.
He draws his hand back, blood swirling in his palm.
"Guys…" I say, pointing.
"What is i-"
Flannigan stretches out his hand, and blood-red lightning tears its way through the air, slamming into the side of the ship.
I'm thrown across the cabin from where I'm standing, and by the time I regain my senses, the ship is down, and I'm lying on the ground, dozens of feet away.
I make my way to my feet, beholding the absolute carnage of the melee, the other heroes nowhere in sight.
Well, shit.
PoV: Silver Sorceress
A great red bolt of lightning flashes across the sky, and I pause from my attempts to use geokinetic spells to bury a series of Skathites alive.
I look around, ignoring the cries of the Bertinellis buried beneath the concrete.
Nothing.
I raise my hand to my ear. "Anyone know what the hell that was about?"
Raven's voice buzzes in my ear, and I see her shadows stop their attempts to choke several cultists the next block down. "I saw some sort of ship get hit by lightning, and felt panic from it. I didn't notice it earlier, with all these people. I tried to reach out to them, but there's some sort of interference."
She growls. "I don't like it."
I have a sinking feeling I know exactly who's just crashed the party.
I frown. It doesn't matter. If she wants to stick her nose somewhere it doesn't belong, I'm not going to stop her when she gets it cut off.
I turn back to the fight, losing myself into the rhythm of it. It's like an endless dance, the steps coordinated in front of me in my loom-sight. I teleport rings around the various cultists, using every spell I can think of to deal with them.
What? I know how to have fun.
But no, I really do have to be serious here. Skathites are serious fucking business, and each one of these cultists can hit like a fucking truck.
Not literally, thankfully, that's only the underbosses.
It's when I'm using Medusa's Lightning on one of them, the static-grey bolts slowly turning his legs to stone, that I feel a tingling on the back of my neck.
Not now, can't be distracted… These guys are tough, as tough as Marco the Cultist, I can't let up for even a moment or I'll-
It's when I hear the fiery explosion behind me, coming from an arrow embedded into the jaw of Doctor Phosphorus, that I realize I was millisecond away from being roasted alive.
That…
I…
Holy fuck, holy fuck.
I whip around, turning to see my unexpected savior. Who do I need to give a thousand-
It's a figure, crouched on a nearby fire escape, clad in a golden costume that's been haunting my dreams for the past month.
I growl. "Of fucking course it's you."
"Me." she says, voice smug.
I snarl, turning to Doctor Phosphorus, teleporting away to avoid the flames he's about to send at me. "I don't need your help."
"Really?" she says, smirking as she launches an arrow at the skeletal villain, sending him reeling with another explosion. Fuck, I was just about to blast him!
"Because to me, it looks like this 'ordinary mortal' just saved your bacon."
I readjust my aim, turning my blast to full-power and sending him careening off into the crowd, towards where a boy in a Superman t-shirt is fighting off three Bertinellis at once.
Fuck my life.
PoV: Chryssa the Golden Archer
I shoot off an arrow at another cultist next to her, and ignore how my heart thumps when she catches my gaze.
She sniffs. "You seem to always turn up in the most unfortunate places."
I kick a cultist in the head, sending him stumbling back, before webbing him up with an arrow. "It was fortunate for you, the way you didn't turn around."
"I could have dodged" she says, blasting away another cultist.
I smirk, firing off another net arrow. "Sure you could have. And that's five for me, by the way."
She looks at me, gaze narrowing.
With a twirl that makes her costume flutter in the wind, she turns around, raising her hands. Jets of acid-green lightning shoot out, and a group of cultists drops the ground, alive but smoking. "Four."
Oh, that's how it's going to be, is it?
I reach back into my quiver, and start rapid-firing net arrows.
I feel the ground rumble behind me as Er- as Sorceress does something.
"Eleven!"
I curse. "Ten."
Eventually, we end up back to back, creating a circle of unconscious and foamed-up goons around us.
When it's 21 me to 22 her, she hums. "You kept it."
"What?"
"The pendant."
I look down, and yes, there it is, ripped free by some cultist's blade. I do my best to secure it inside of my costume.
I scowl, shooting another cultist. "It's useful, despite its unfortunate origin."
She chuckles as she blasts lightning from her fingers, and there's a note of sadness behind it. "I don't think you have to worry about that today. Skathite offensive magic doesn't do much mind-warping unless you're the one using it."
"Still useful" I say with a shrug, firing off another arrow.
Overhead, a cultist goes flying, caught in Miss Martian's telekinetic hold.
She tilts her head. "Ah, so that's why. I don't blame you, I wouldn't trust a Martian in my head either."
My eyes narrow. "Miss Martian is a good person, and a good hero."
Er- Sorceress smirks. "And yet…"
I scowl at her, nailing a cultist with a net arrow. "Shut the fuck up."
"Fine" Eri says with a smirk, stunning a cultist with lightning, "whatever you say, Chryssa. You're very trusting, absolutely."
I leap up, and she obligingly raises a hand, giving me a platform to flip off of so I can hit a group of three cultists from the air. "Yeah, I wonder if there's anything in my past that could have made me reluctant to trust others."
I try not to take too much pleasure in how she growls.
A little ways past, I see a blood-soaked, silver-haired figure emerge from a pile of cultists, splitting one head-to-groin with a sword.
Ravager.
Fuck, fuck, what is she doing here?
I've been aware of Deathstroke's daughter for a while — her eager, grinning participation in her father's crimes has always been a sort of dark mirror to my own life — so I know that she normally does solo jobs, usually overseas.
So what the hell is she doing here?
Actually, it doesn't matter. I might never get a better opportunity to take that maniac off the streets.
I pull back my bow, stringing up an arrow and aiming it for the girl…
Until another silver-haired figure steps in front of me.
Ravager spots the motion, and takes in the scene in an instant from dozens of yards away. She laughs, blows us a kiss, and turns back to the fight.
What.
I glare at her. "Move."
She frowns. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that."
"Er- Sorceress, that's Ravager."
She raises an eyebrow. "And?"
I growl. "You know who she is, right? International assassin? Daughter of the most dangerous serial killer on the planet?"
She rolls her eyes. "Ro- Ravager has been invaluable for fighting the Skathites, I'm not going to turn her away because of some… some moral quibble about what she does in her off hours."
"'What she does in her off-hours'? Are you serious! She's a mass-murdering assassin! How many fucking innocent people do you think she's put in the ground?"
Sorceress swallows, and it's only from over a decade of knowing her that I can see the uncertainty behind her eyes. "She's… She's been helpful. For fighting the Skathites. Isn't that worth ignoring everything else she's done?"
I stare at her. "Are you asking me, or telling me?"
Her eyes narrow. "I'm telling you, asshole. She's been working with Carmine to take down the cult, I'm not going to just stab her in the back by letting you take her out."
"You're not- You would be saving literally dozens of lives!"
She scoffs. "Would I? Or would whoever was going to hire her just hire someone else? Thinking you can stop those people's deaths by taking out Ravager is like thinking you can stop all crime by smashing a specific gun."
"So what, we should just allow her to go on killing people, because someone would do it anyways? She's 'just following orders'?"
"No, what I'm saying is, it's none of my fucking business if she chooses to be a gun or not. It's not like those people are going to end up any less dead."
"So what, you don't care because she's just following orders?"
"Oh don't even. I don't have to listen to your moralizing bullshit anymore, Chryssa. Who I work for, with, or under is no longer your business."
"Under?" I ask.
After a second, I get it, and groan.
"Oh fucking gods- God" — I ignore her flash of hurt at my self-correction — "don't tell me you're actually sleeping with her."
"And if I am?" she says with a scowl.
I growl. "Are you fucking kidding me? It's one thing to work with someone like that, but to actually- to actually-"
"Actually what?" she says with a positively lascivious smirk. "Because let me tell you, we've 'actually'-ed just about everything. Say what you want about the screams of the innocent, because she can certainly make me scream."
I growl, rushing towards her with a raised fist. She blocks, sending a fist back at my head, but I grab it, sending her flying towards the ground.
I move to stomp on her, but she rolls out of the way, grinning. "Still acting like you're entitled to control my life, hm."
"'Don't sleep with serial killers' isn't exactly the Handmaid's Tale, Sorceress." I punch her, but she flows out of the way with almost supernatural reflexes.
Shit, precognition, right. Nothing "almost" about it.
I take a moment to send a foam arrow at a cultist behind her who's about to interrupt the battle, and she takes my moment of inattention to come flying at me. "So what, I'm just supposed to ignore her when she offers her help?"
I'm just better than her though, even despite the advantage her precognition gives her, and I catch her telegraphed punch easily and send her slamming into the ground once again, this time with my knee on her chest.
I jerk my head towards where the girl in question is currently cackling as she shoves her sword all the way up a crying man until it exists the head, Tepeș-style. "No, but it means that when you do, you cosign that."
Er- Sorceress looks conflicted for a moment, but ends up scowling. "Oh, fuck off. Not all of us have the luxury of working with Batman."
My eyes soften. "You could, if you wanted. It's not too late."
For just a moment, I can see that she looks tempted. A scream from the battle splits the air, and her expression shudders, closing off. "Oh fuck off" she spits. "Don't lecture me like you're better than me, Little Miss Cop."
Before I can respond, her eyes widen, glancing at something behind me, and I have to jump off before a cultist can slam his hand right where my head used to be.
I pull out my bow, shooting off a net arrow, trapping the snarling, red-eyed man.
I turn back to Er- Sorceress, ready to start where we left off, but before I can, my earpiece buzzes. She twitches at almost the same time, raising a hand to her own ear.
"Chryssa" Robin says, voice tinny through the speaker, "disengage with Silver Sorceress. The cultists are the main enemy, not the Falcones, remember that."
I frown, glaring across at my former best friend, whose expression matches mine.
"We'll finish this, later" I say.
"I'll be counting on it" she says, glaring, and then flashes away to some other part of the battlefield.
Just in time too, because it looks like the goons at the end of the alley are finally making their way through.
Of fucking course that bitch leaves me to deal with them.
I shoot another foam arrow at them, and in the tight confines of the alley they can't dodge. I throw myself up onto the fire escape, running around the trapped cultists, and plop down to where I can see Robin holding off a series of goons.
I dodge the errant blow of a Falcone — I can tell by the purple undershirt — and drop down next to my crime-fighting partner. "How're we doing?"
He stares at me.
I look away, to launch a net arrow at a cultist, and look back.
"Shit, sorry" he says, "I forgot you're not in the… Right, things are good. The Falcones seem to be after the same thing we are, but are sometimes clashing with us when we run across them. The cultists are crazy though, they're in some sort of blood rage, so they're still the bigger threat. We're going to try to converge on the warehouse at the center, take out the guy on top."
I nod, prepping another arrow. The next several minutes dissolve into a blur of attack and counter-attack.
Launch an arrow, punch a goon, dodge an attack, it almost becomes monotonous.
Well, until one of the hulking underbosses grabs me, tossing me across the battlefield to land on a crowd of goons.
I cast my electric hand spell grabbing onto the leg of the man under me, and flip up.
Thankfully, it seems that the people I crashed into are just as disoriented as I am, and I quickly set off a foam arrow, flipping away before I can get caught in the expanding mass.
I look around. Fortunately for me, this seems to be a calmer part of the giant melee.
I punch a red-clad goon in the face before he can hit me with a crowbar.
Well, for a certain value of "calm".
Unfortunately for me, I don't see any of my allies. The only other cape here is…
"Again?" my former best friend says, glaring at me as she impales a man on a spear of earth. "Gods, you're like a mosquito."
I barely resist the urge to send an arrow at her.
"A mosquito that just saved your ass" I say, sending an explosive arrow at a particularly tough-looking goon, sending him careening into the side of a building. "Looks like there's more to life than book smarts, isn't there?"
She glares at me, but before she can respond, the underboss that sent me flying here lands in front of us, cratering the ground.
"You're gonna die, you little twerps!"
PoV: Silver Sorceress
"You're gonna die, you little twerps!"
I roll my eyes. 'Twerps', seriously? What is this, middle school? He reminds me of that asshole that me and Ar-
No, focus! Dangerous threat in front of you. Dealing with her can come later.
Apparently, the supremely annoying hero next to me has the same idea. We look towards each other, and nod. I can tell it might be even more grudging for her than it is for me.
I send out a Scythe of Fate, but the underboss waves his hand, creating a red, flaky shield out of his own blood. The blade eats into it, but the shield holds, taking both the Scythe and an explosive arrow without shattering.
Shit, that's a new trick.
He collapses the shield back into a pool of blood, which turns into a series of spikes, that he sharpens and sends careening towards us. Ar- Chryssa backflips away, and I blink to the underboss's other side.
I charge up a blast, to full strength, sending a Moon Laser screaming right at the underboss's head. Unfortunately, he holds up another one of those infuriating blood shields, and deflects it right into the top of a nearby building.
I teleport out of the way of the spear of blood he sends at me, using my staff to send a Scythe of Fate arcing directly into one of his kneecaps. He sends out a wave of blood, knocking Ar- Chryssa away into the crowd.
I grimace at the way my heart skips a beat at her yelp.
Focus on the fight, Eri.
The underboss waves his hand, sending another spear of blood, and I blink to the side. I jab forward, sending out a bolt of actual, non-Medusa lightning, but the underboss just laughs off the mild burns.
Right, slice-and-dice it is.
I duck under the crowbar that a cultist swings at me and launch another Scythe of Fate, which gouges out a deep wound into his leg.
Huh, looks like this one isn't nearly as tough as Marco the Cultist was.
Before he can recover, I charge up a full-strength Moon Laster, and blast a deep gouge into his neck. I follow it up with a more physical touch, swinging my staff to slam into his head, the enchantment on it magnifying the force of my blow to dent his face inwards.
I smile. Sometimes, there's nothing like some good-old-fashioned elbow grease.
Another cultist rushes me, and I charge up a Moon Laser, aiming it at his legs.
PoV: Chryssa the Golden Archer
I grimace as the underboss waves his hand, a shield of blood appearing to deflect my very temporary ally's laser into the top of a building.
Damnit, what is it going to take to put this guy down?
He waves an arm, sending a wave of blood at me, knocking me away into the crowd.
I land on my side, head cracking into the skull of a cultist, and I feel a buzz of static as my earpiece shatters.
Fuck.
Thankfully, the collision seems to have dazed him, and I quickly use my electric hand spell to knock him out.
I flip up, looking around, to see that the underboss knocked me almost a half block down the street. There are a series of dueling goons around me.
I move to launch an arrow, but a movement at the corner of my eye makes me stop, and look up to the hole the deflected laser-blast drilled in the top of a building a block down the street. It's an old man in a bathrobe, dangling out of the hole blasted into one of the top stories of the building.
Holy shit, someone needs to save her. I turn to silver-clad cape, who finally seems to have killed the underboss. "E- Sorceress!"
Fuck, no luck.
I look around for the other heroes. "Guys!?"
I try pointing and gesturing to the building, but everyone's too focused on their own fights. I reach up to my earpiece, but curse, as I hear nothing but static.
Right.
I turn to the silver-clad witch, opening up the ground underneath a group of cultists. "Silver Sorceress!"
Fuck, she's too far away.
"ARGYRA!"
The witch in question jerks, her laser missing its target, and whirls around. After a moment she scowls, and teleports in front of me, throwing up a giant bell shield to block off the dueling goons in front of us.
"What."
I point up at the person dangling from the building. "Please, do something! I know you can!"
She looks up at the man dangling, and then back at me. "…What, you finally realize that-"
I growl. "Please just save him!"
She rolls her eyes, and moves towards the man, until pausing. She looks back at the cultists, about to crack the shield protecting us.
Before she can move, another figure lands next to us, silver hair flowing from underneath her hood.
"Head in the game, Sorceress" she drawls. "Ignore the traitor. Raven is fighting Blood Apostle, your real friends need your help."
She stares at the assassin for what feels like an eternity, and I feel my heart drop into my stomach.
"I'm sorry" Silver Sorceress says, gaze hardening as she turns her back to the man, "but I'm no hero. That's out of the range of my teleportation, since I've never been there before. It'd take me ages to reach him. Rooting out the cancer is more important than a single mortal life, especially one that chose to stand up there like an idiot."
The shield collapses, and she blasts the top half off of a cultist with a silver laser, leaving his legs and torso to flop to the ground.
I feel my hands shake, my eyes wide.
…Fine, then.
My hands still, resolve firm, and I reach under my costume, to take out my mind-protection amulet.
Sorceress looks at me wide-eyed, but I just turn away,
I take a deep breath, and jerk my hand downwards, ripping the string off.
MISS MARTIAN!
I shiver as I feel her reach out to form the psychic connection.
[Chryssa? What are you-]
[There's no time! Look at the building on the far side of the street. There's a man who's about to fall out!]
I feel Kid Flash's attention focus on me. [I got it!]
As I see the red-and-yellow blur running up the stairs inside the apartment to reach the eleventh floor, I smile.
He didn't even hesitate for a second, did he?
[Chryssa, come North. Zatanna and I need your assistance.]
I nod, and begin moving, tying up the legs of cultists who get in my way with net arrows. I scoot to a stop right behind Zatanna, who's freezing cultists in large block of ice.
I reach out, using my electric hand spell to knock out a man with a crowbar before he can interrupt her spellcasting.
She turns to me, raising her eyebrows. [Was that magic? Where'd you learn-]
I frown, and I can tell the link carries my sheer feeling of please-can-we-not-talk-about-this-ness.
[What can I do to help?]
Zatanna grimaces. [Right, sorry, not the time. Can you fight off the others? We're trying to freeze them so the Falcones can't kill them, but Aqualad can't manipulate water when he's fighting off cultists.]
I look at the ice. [Won't the underbosses just melt them out?]
Zatanna looks at me strangely. [The what?]
I roll my eyes, and concentrate, sending a mental image. [The big scaly guys, Bertinelli lieutenants.]
[Right. No, I can enchant it against melting.]
I hum, looking at the ice considering, thinking back to the view of the battlefield from the Bioship. I try to project the image into her head. [Do you know if we could…]
Aqualad turns, having caught some of our conversation. [An excellent idea, can you hold them off?]
I smile. Maybe there is something to telepathy, after all.
I send back the mental image of a nod.
The next minute passes by in a blur, as I desperately shoot off arrow after arrow at the attackers. Explosive, net, foam, I use everything I can to hold off the waves as Aqualad and Zatanna move and freeze giant waves of water from a nearby hydrant.
Thank the gods for that enchanted quiver Green Arrow gave me, or I'd have run out ages ago. Apparently, there's someone over in Star City who makes them for him.
Huh, wonder if it's the same guy Mr. Merlyn used to use? He loved that quiver of his, kept holding it over me during training saying that he'd get me one if I did well enough.
He never did, of course, even when I passed all his tests, but that's the League of Shadows for you.
Finally, the two heroes seem to be done with their project, and with a final "Nehtgnerts!" on the wall of enchanted ice they've created Zatanna leaps back over to me.
[There] I hear her in my head, [That ought to make things a bit more difficult for them.]
I smirk nastily.
We've essentially divided the battlefield in half, sectioning off a good portion of the dueling Falcone and Bertinelli goons from the capes and more static fighters. Even better, I can see a flash of Kid Flash's perspective, showing how Doctor Phosphorus and most of the underbosses are on the opposite side of the field, dueling Sorceress and that new shadow-wielder she brought along with her, totally out of position to actually melt the ice.
I concentrate, and try to send back the mental impression of my satisfaction. [This means…]
[Correct], I hear from Aqualad, [now, we have a clear path to Flannigan, and to ending this madness.]
As one, we surge forward, moving forward from our various positions towards the center.
An underboss, transformed into a hulking beast with a leather hide, runs at us, moving to melt a hole in the wall.
Huh. You know, he reminds me a lot of Executioner…
I send a mental image towards Aqualad and Zatanna. After a moment of deliberation, Aqualad nods, and sends back another to the both of us.
Zatanna raises a hand, sending out jagged bolts of lightning at the underboss's face with a "Ygrene tlob!"
Aqualad starts calling water forth from his… huh "water-bearers"? I mean, I guess there's no harm in a descriptive name…
I feel Aqualad's amusement as I pull back the string of my bow, shooting two arrows at the cultist's legs at he raises his arms to block Zatanna's attacks.
The Bertinelli lets out a laugh, long and hissing, as the burns on his arms begin healing. "It'll take a lot more than that to put me down, girlie…"
"I know" Zatanna says, smirking. "That's why those were just a distraction."
At that moment, the arrows in his legs explode, sending foam gushing out to cover his legs.
"The fuck is…"
Before he can even finish his sentence, we're moving as one. Aqualad forms the cloud of water into a series of spears.
Zatanna waves a hand. "Neprahs!"
The spears glow with a white light. The underboss is starting to crack to foam, but that's fine: it doesn't have to last for more than a few seconds.
I cast my telekinesis spell, latching onto the spears as Aqualad sends them hurtling down at the underboss's legs. I mentally point out the spots to aim at, using a few gentle nudges from my spell to guide them into the precise right spots under his kneecap
They sink into the flesh, and he yells in pain. "You little fucks! I'm gonna fucking destroy you."
Zatanna smirks. "You first. Ezeerf!"
As any third grader can tell you, ice expands as it cools. That means that as the water-spears inside the underboss's legs rapidly freeze over, they get bigger, ripping apart the delicate structures of his knees.
I smirk. Doesn't matter how tough you are, weak points are still weak points.
The underboss shrieks in agony, abandoning all attempts to free himself from the foam. Aqualad forms his water-bearers into a mace, and begins laying an absolutely vicious beat-down on the helpless cultist, dancing around the immobile figure. Zatanna and I cover him, holding off the various goons that try to rush us once they see their leader is losing with a series of spells and arrows
After about half a minute, the underboss finally goes limp, and the Atlantean draws back.
Unfortunately, we don't have time to celebrate, as a new wave of goons seems to crash against us, and we're suddenly fighting for our lives.
I lose myself in the rhythms of combat, shooting, stabbing, and kicking what seems like an endless wave of enemies, fighting back-to-back with Zatanna and Aqualad.
And eventually… I feel it. The flow, the gestalt, the V'narr.
It's not like that we're all sharing the same mind, but just that our minds borders go a bit fuzzy, with thoughts and ideas passing forth from one to the other. Pooled together, our collective is greater than anything
And it's not just that, I can feel them. Their focus, their fear, their determination. Their joy, their focus, their anxiety. All of it becomes ours.
It's a type of connection I don't think I could describe in words.
I see shadows forming a cage, imprisoning Miss Martian. That gray girl, she has something like what we have, but different. It's strange, none of us like it, and apparently the feeling is mutual.
Hmm, I wonder if they could they be dispersed by…
Robin moves over, using a flashbang. It weakens it, temporarily, but enough that Miss Martian can break her way out with telekinesis.
Kid Flash moves to punch Doctor Phosphorus while his back is turned, only to pass right through him.
Atom-Master, he has an illusion-creating helmet.
Huh, I could have sworn he was a meta.
Regardless though, I remember Brianna telling me about some job her dad had, cleaning up the fight between Atom-Master and his rival, Mirage. And the rumors I heard around my apartment about Mirage signing on with the Falcones.
Zatanna holds her hands out in front of her. "Etacol egarim! Etacol mota retsam!"
A bright spot lights up in our collective mental sight. Superboy is closest, and he grabs mirage, flinging her at Atom-Master's real location.
There, those two should take care of each other.
Superboy then turns, facing to where Robin can see Doctor Phosphorus battling Mammoth. He's the only one who isn't hurt by his flames, so he needs to be the one to fight him. Zatanna tried the only fire-protection spell she knows earlier in the fight, and the skeleton's fire melted right through it.
Thankfully, Robin knows that his fire isn't actually radioactive, it's more of an acid, he thinks that's the best way to describe it.
We pull back the string of my bow, and fight.
Why was I ever afraid of this?
AN: Discussion is the thing that keeps the fire of motivation burning inside me, so if you read the chapter and liked it, please make sure to comment. I read every single one, and each of them brightens my day.
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