Thunder's Gonna Shake the Ground

Independent DCU RP blog Billy Batson Semi-selective for threads. Open to non-mutuals. Multi-ship. Multi-verse. Probably not safe for work. Tracking: mightiestmortal. Rules || Bio || Tags Other Blogs

[thisismybirthright]

Ancient Knowledge | Billy & Damian

[mightiestmortal]

thisismybirthright:

“Constantine says there is no solution to my problem, but he said that you were in a … unique position to help me live with it,” Damian said, eyeing the boy. If he was in a similar situation, there was nothing overt about it. “Though if he was wrong…” Damian rolled one shoulder in a dismissive shrug he didn’t feel.

If this boy could not help him, he had but one remaining solution. At that thought, his grandfather reared up in outrage and fought for control for one second, two, an eternity in which Damian could not even force his own body to breathe.

Then, once he had won yet again, he smirked. “Forgive my manners,” he said. “My name is Ra’s al Ghul, the Demon’s Head.”

Billy tilted his head back, considering it, and then he nodded.  "Yeah," he finally said.  "I'm probably one of the few you could talk to about it."  His gaze cut over to the door.  He sighed.  "But not here."

He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, and he raised an eyebrow as he met the kid's gaze again.  "My name's Billy. You want to walk with me and tell me what your name was before... all this?"

Because that name felt right, but it didn't feel... true.

[thisismybirthright]

Ancient Knowledge | Billy & Damian

[mightiestmortal]

thisismybirthright:

Damian looked at the boy who’d answered the door, analyzing his posture, his grin, his everything, and ignoring the ripple-surge of his grandfather’s awareness and knowledge within him.

“No.” Damian said curtly, and then he thought better of it. He offered up the scrap of paper– the back of a bar receipt, transparent where liquor had spilled on it. “That is, unless I’ve got the wrong address.”

If his grandfather’s reaction was any indication, he did not, in fact have the wrong address, but it was only polite.

Billy's lips twisted into a wry smile as he eyed the paper.  He didn't have to touch it to feel the raw power off of it.  Not because it was properly spelled, but because the idiot who wrote it spilled magic everywhere, on everything he touched, everything he brushed against, everything he lingered around.  The scent of that magic was unmistakable, all stale beer and cigarettes, sex and a sense of desperation that no one else could match.

"Constantine," Billy said, sighing.

(And Billy still hadn't caught the edge of the spell laid on him, hadn't been able to figure out if he needed to pull it off or not.  Perception hexes were tricky beasts, often tied into other spells, and Billy wasn't certain how deep that one ran.  Pulling preemptively... Well. That could be a disaster.  But eventually, he'd figure out what that spell was, and then the world would see John Constantine as he truly was, and not through the altered lens of the hex.)

"You must be desperate, listening to him."

Or an idiot, but looking at the kid, Billy didn't think that was the case.  His smile faded, and he folded his arms over his chest.

"So what problem do you have that John couldn't make worse for you?  I'm sure he offered."

Then again, if Constantine had offered, it would be fixed.  Something else, somewhere else, would have been broken sure, but this kid's problem would have been fixed.  Because no matter what the hex said, John knew his spells.

[thisismybirthright]

Ancient Knowledge | Billy & Damian

[mightiestmortal]

thisismybirthright:

@mightiestmortal

Damian checked the piece of paper one more time before knocking on the door, making sure the address still matched.

It still did of course, but it was hard to credit the completely benign piece of suburbia before him with the advice he’d been given by John Constantine of all people, but on the other hand, Constantine might be selfish and insufferable, but he wasn’t often wrong, so Damian knocked briskly at the door.

He took the moments between his knock and the door opening to straighten his clothing, the ceremonial robes woven with protective magics, the sholwar and khameez he wore under them belted with a silk sash, all embroidered through with the greens and golds of his rank.

Darla was the one who heard the door, who headed over to answer it, but it was Billy's skin that crawled, and it was Mary who caught her.  Pedro shifted, and Eugene looked up at Billy, and for a moment, Billy couldn't breathe.  There was something sharp and dark and quiet behind that door, but the silence around it was so stark that it was almost a scream.

His eyes narrowed.  His hand flexed, and then he glanced into the kitchen.

"Billy, you just gonna leave him out there?"  Darla asked, and Billy wondered at that, the same way he always had whenever she said such things.

Sensitive to magic, Francesca had called her, and Billy wasn't sure he liked it.

He met Mary's gaze, and then he headed to the door.  For just a heartbeat, he stayed there, his hand on the knob, feeling the energy.

He could smell sulfur.

Then he opened the door and it was all gone, and there was a kid there.  Same age as Billy, probably.

He smelled like spices, some kind of blend that stirred the magic that ran just under Billy's skin.  It was familiar, not of the same time but of the same place as the old ways, as--

Billy stepped outside, pulling the door closed behind him, and he offered the kid a grin.

"You lost?"