As the mortal prattles on with the expected holier-than-thou crap, Brimstone can’t help but cock his head with a wry squint of the ‘eyes’, peeling back the facade that is Johnny Blaze to reveal the Ghost Rider. He wonders if that’s what all demons see when laying eyes upon him, if, deep down, that’s all that’s left of Dan’s…his brother. And, the bitter irony that it may well be how Johnny sees himself, not that he’d ever admit to such.
Not the sanctimonious Johnny Blaze.
“ God. ” For a creature with no discernible mouth, he sure pulled a convincing attempt at seething through gritted teeth. And, then, he begins to pace, slabs of brimstone grinding against one another as he recalls that fateful night. “ We’d dealt with all kinds of sleazy bastards over the years. Always seemed to know which way the wind was blowing, who the enemy was. But… ”
As if tainting the very air around them, a black mist appears to emanate from the demon, an attempt at…processing the emotions, fragile mortality he no longer understood. Mephisto may have worked a number on him, granted immeasurable power, but, beneath it all, void of heart, there’s still a sense of…kinship in Blaze. For better or worse.
“ Zadkiel happened. ” Another pause. Seemingly brooding, and, then, with explosive breath: “ He used me, Johnny. He…He used us. All of us, for centuries. And, for what - their ‘divine plan’? ” A crude laugh, clawed from no mortal throat. “ I thought they were the good guys, y’know. Thought, hey, maybe they did make us, maybe we have been puppets, but…if it was all for a decent cause, y’know? ”
A resigned shake of the head.
“ Nah. I wasn’t just a rat in their plan. I was the fucking cheese. ” In siding with Zadkiel to amass power in Heaven, he brought down the wrath of God. But, while the archangel got a slap on the wrist, commended for his part in the great plan, Danny was cast out like yesterday’s news. Humiliated. Powerless. Alone. “ Then…Then, I realised. God honestly ain’t that great. He ain’t as perfect or infallible as everyone says. ”
“ See, Mom woulda worshipped the fucking ground he walked on, always said, if you do good, Danny, stay true to yourself, you’ll be welcomed at the pearly gates. Well…I’ve spent my whole fucking life doing good, Johnny, living a lie they made for me, and, y’know where that got me? ” He can’t even say it, opting instead to cast a hand over his body. For his part in the uprising, Dan was denied entry to Heaven in the event of his death. So, deciding to skimp on the wait, face the inevitable, he sought power from other sources, vowing to taint everything made by His hand.
“ Guess you could say it’s been a real eye-opener. Took me a little while to adjust, not gonna lie - the…urges are only gonna get worse - but I’d rather side with this lot, knowing what I’m in for, than drink Heaven’s kool-aid. If…that’s gonna be a problem, then we should probably call…whatever this is quits. ”
The horrific grating of rock encourages him to flinch, but Blaze resists. It felt vital that he maintain an impression of sturdiness, smothering the apprehension that accumulated inside of him like a rising tide, eroding his resolve the longer he listened to the recount of their past.
What on Earth was that murky haze exhaled from Dan? Was this fiend still his brother at all?
“Yeah... How could I forget.” An earth-shattering revelation that he still battled to grasp the full extent of today. After all, to think that angels would fashion weapons out of souls that thirst was reprisal was bad enough-- but to then turn them lose upon the guilty and innocent alike was beyond belief, topped off by the part that Ketch had to play to Zadkiel’s grand schemes, the linchpin behind the majority of struggles they faced over the years.
Or so Blaze wished to believe, anyway. His rage did not burn so hotly when it could be aimed at a specific target.
Taking time to digest all this, siding temporarily with this wicked shadow of the man he once knew, Johnny could see why Danny would spurn He, the one to which all angels know to, including a treacherous Zadkiel. And for the part he had to play in his plans, judgement had been swift. Branded the pariah, he who could walk the road of life and death at once fell out of favour with those who sat on high.
Small wonder then to see that he fell back on familiar habits to avoid crumbling completely.
Ceasing to speak, a fwosh is heard as flames engulf the other sibling, cooking the very flesh of his face as Blaze ceded to the shape of the Rider, a form that he felt was more fitting to humour demonic company with-- especially seeing as the anger he felt this whole time slowly gave way to action taken against the other.
“Don’t say her name,” he warns, his words granted ethereal inflection by using Zarathos’ voice. One demon formally thrusted into the service of heavenly bodies gazing unflinchingly upon he who’d risen again from the smouldering ashes of despair. Funny how what would divide them involved the use of a mother which Johnny could no longer memorise the face of.
“You lost the right to use it when you gave up.”
Seconds pass, the only sounds heard being the crackle of unnatural flames in the absence of breath. “She never would’ve wanted this for you.” Bravely trying, as all mothers do, to protect their children from danger-- including that of the family curse, which had skipped out on Blaze as originally planned and fell upon Ketch instead, setting all of this in motion.
How he wishes things could’ve been different for them.
“But you’re right. We SHOULD call it quits. ‘Cuz you no longer resemble the Danny I once knew.”
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