Mmm Danny having to hang around while Fright Knight looks for Tim
Actually, the bats are here. They can see Danny call Frighty in the first place! Lemme noodle in here for a minute 😈
The newcomers didn’t look particularly convinced by his reassurances, still very tense and aggressive. It’s almost cute, really; little creatures rallying around a wounded pack mate.
Like they seriously believe they’re a threat to him.
Phantom smiles, careful not to let it spread too wide. This body is human, young, and he’s already putting it back together.
“If I did not wish to return your Red Robin to you, I wouldn’t still be here,” he reminds them gently, inclining his head.
Honestly, in more ways than one. Nothing but his own desire to protect the child keeps him in his flesh. And if he did want to take this body and go, there’s nothing they could do to stop him.
This also doesn’t seem to reassure these people, the smallest gripping his sword like he’s about to attack. It’s the blue one that speaks though, smiling in spite of his tension.
Maybe because of it? Phantom can dimly remember adrenaline. There’s probably a lot in this body right now. It’s hard to tell, when everything is still so much smaller, slower, duller than he’s used to.
“We’re not that easy to escape,” the blue and black one says confidently, and Phantom’s smile turns fond.
Well, once his new halfa is ready to be himself again, he’ll have people to look after him. (Danny’s really not letting himself think about what a new halfa will mean. How that will change things.)
He decides to give them just… the faintest indication. After all, if they keep up this posturing, keep pushing for a fight, they’ll only run the risk of hurting this body.
If they could force him out too early, they’ll only kill Tim. Best they at least believe that he is staying for his own reasons and those alone.
It’s been a while since he’s done it in a human shape, but the feeling comes with a wash of nostalgic familiarity. Phantom turns invisible, flies across the room before the humans can complain.
Stands behind the blue and black one. To prove his point.
“I’m not that easy to catch,” he says simply, switching invisibility for intangibility as the man swings.
The batons sing with electricity as they pass through him, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue, but no further damage. He raises his hands, the same calm smile still on his face.
“I promise you, I mean you no harm. I will heal this body, and keep it alive until Red Robin can return. Then I will leave.” He stops for a moment, considering, a slight frown on his face.
It might not be quite that simple. He remembers dimly that being a fresh halfa is… a learning curve.
“I will leave his body,” he decides, the smile returning as he looks between them, “but I will remain, should he wish it. There are… complications when coming back from the dead.”
They all jerk at that, and Phantom belatedly realises a woman has joined them. She’s above, in the rafters, dressed in black and silent as a shadow. He barely notes her before the red helmeted speaks, bitter and angry.
“The fuck are you doing to him?” He growls, the mechanical stripping of the helmet not quite taking the worry past what Phantom can hear.
Phantom blinks, surprised.
“Healing him,” he explains again, and then he understands. Death-touched, but probably not familiar with the Realms. They haven’t even worked out who he is.
Hmm. How best to explain.
“Red Robin died in the ritual that summoned me. In his last breath, he left this body and I was forced inside, unnecessarily but… I am glad. My true summoning requires no sacrifice, and certainly not the death of a child.” His voice drops to a growl, low and rough through the slit throat, and Phantom clears his throat, forcing himself to remain calm.
The temperature dropped several degrees, and several of the new children are now looking at the frozen cultists like they’ve put something together.
“For this offence, those performing this abomination have been punished. But by placing me here… there is a chance for me to right this wrong. To give your brother his life back, should his soul return. But there is a cost.”
That seems to settle them, oddly, as none of his reassurances have. Well, Phantom won’t judge.
“He is steeped in my power, and what it takes to heal him will leave its mark. So will his death, and his transformation into a ghost. This body is his and he will be able to rebind to it, but he will be conscious before he is strong enough to do it. It will be a strange experience for him.”
Off the top of his head, Phantom can’t think of any that would rival it. Even ghosts who form normally don’t do it while watching their own body walk around.
The all black clad man doesn’t look appeased, exactly, but the explanation has worn down an edge. He is still gruff.
“You won’t object if we verify your claims?” He asks, aggression tempered but not gone.
Phantom shrugs, moving to sit on a box.
It’s been so long since he had muscles, he almost forgot they tired. He’s got to be careful with this body. It’s still missing most of its blood.
“Not at all. Please, summon any magic users you trust. In the meantime, I must call my knight to set him to find your son. The sooner he begins the search, the sooner he will be safe.”
Not that anything would happen to a fresh baby ghost, even if he had gotten sucked into the realms as Danny was pulled out.
He pauses for a moment, watching them. Still armed, still tense, still looking for any excuse to make this a fight. Thinks about Fright Knight.
“He, ah… he’s a little alarming. You may wish to prepare yourselves,” he adds, and as expected, they all tense further. The black and blue one approaches, slowly, carefully.
Like Phantom might spook. Or bite him. He hadn’t planned to, but now…
“How about we just get confirmation on your story first? It shouldn’t take long, they’re on their way now,” he adds when Phantom cocks his head.
Ah. The comm-unications again. That might be the source of those tinny voices he’d been hearing too.
Phantom takes a moment, tests the ectoplasm in the room. There’s enough that if the Red Robin soul is here, it will be able to grow. Not enough to tell for sure where he is.
“I would say… an hour before Red Robin can be tracked,” he decides, nodding. Gives the young man a gentle smile. “It will not matter before then.”
Of course, if they’re all extremely lucky, the poor kid’s soul will be right here. Phantom makes sure to leak a little more ectoplasm than usual, nourishment in case he has not been taken further.
The odds aren’t great, active summoning to the Realms and all, but they’re there.
His agreement at least takes the edge off, the others all returning their weapons. The ceiling woman doesn’t come down, and they don’t look up, but they know she’s there. He can taste the knowledge on his tongue.
He’s kinda gross right now.
He turns intangible again, this time more focused, and the dirt falls through him to the box below. Phantom shifts to a new box, frowns down at the blood still caking him.
It’s his, the body’s, and it comes with him. Annoying.
The black and blue one, still the closest, notices. Gives a strained smile.
“Do, ah… do you need to wash up?” He asks carefully.
The others are talking. Hushed whispers, conferring. Planning.
Phantom just hopes they won’t try anything foolish. He’ll take Red Robin’s body somewhere safe if he has to, but… his family should know. Have the chance to accept him.
He refocuses on the blue and black one, nods.
“Please? I’m not usually sticky,” he adds, regaining solidity and frowning at his bloody hands.
The blue and black one nearly laughs, high and more adrenaline than humour, and nods. Pulls a pack of wet wipes from a belt pouch.
It takes Phantom a while to remember how they work, but the blue and black one helps, and they at least have his hands clean before the practitioners arrive.
Things promptly get loud, overwrought, and tense again, but Phantom pays it little attention. Everything he told them is true, and at least those magic users know who he is.
No matter how upset they are that he’s here, they won’t find any lies.
There’s a pretty woman, long dark hair and a fancy top hat, who approaches him with cautious respect in her eyes. She asks what he wants, what price he expects them to pay to return Red Robin.
Phantom explains again. No price; it was a stupid, botched summoning, so he’s just cleaning up the mess.
She isn’t happy with that, and nor is the trenchcoated man behind her. So Phantom thinks of a price.
A warning. Spreading the word to all magic users, at least in this world, that you do not fucking sacrifice children to summon the High King Phantom. Preferably not sacrificing anyone, but he knows what cults are like.
It’s just not fun without a little blood sacrifice, is it?
They go back to reassure Red Robin’s family, and Phantom decides it’s time. They know he’s telling the truth now, their own friends are with them, and it’s been most of that hour.
Calling the Fright Knight is as easy as breathing. The body isn’t his, doesn’t hold any of his possessions, but the Ring of Rage appears on his finger the second he wishes for it.
The blue and black one, Nightwing as he’s asked Phantom to call him, has stuck close. Keeping an eye on his fallen brother.
Phantom likes him. He makes word jokes, more when he’s nervous.
So when he asks what the ring is, what Phantom is doing, Phantom smiles.
“Calling my knight. He will find your brother, and keep him safe. There are very few more skilled.” More skilled in nightmares and fear, but there’s no need to specify.
The Fright Knight has only grown more powerful with an active King to serve, and he is an excellent guardian. He will find the forming ghost, should there be one, and keep him safe.
Phantom raises the ring to his lips, Nightwing watching curiously but not interrupting the others. They’re still in heavy debate.
That ends when a glowing green rift tears through the warehouse and the Fright Knight, atop his beautiful black Nightmare steps through. The sword isn’t in his hand, but his burning hair flares hotter when he sees they have company.
The magic users are swearing, scrabbling, the other heroes (Nightwing calls them that, at least. Phantom thinks they may be a little young for heroics) reaching for weapons.
Phantom clears his throat, and once more the Fright Knight has eyes only for him. Even a prison of flesh cannot disguise the King from his subjects.
The Fright Knight dismounts his steed, ignoring the panicking humans (since that is his favourite kind), and kneels before Phantom. His head dips, awaiting command.
Nightwing manages a shaky laugh, the only human not holding a weapon and primed to attack.
“So…. You weren’t kidding about him making an impression,” he offers weakly, and Phantom smiles.
He remembers, just dimly, the terror his knight used to evoke in him. Fright Knight remembers too. It’s the bar of how far they have come.
“You should see him when he’s angry,” he remarks idly, then nods to his knight. “The boy whose body this is. His soul will be forming soon, becoming a ghost. Find him and bring him to me, that I may return this body to him.”
Simple commands, the kind the Fright Knight likes best. Not quite his usual mission of spreading order, but he has always liked a hunt. Which does make Phantom pause.
“Try not to scare him,” he adds, aware the Fright Knight is terrifying without trying to be. The kneeling knight hesitates for a moment, gleaming black armour unnaturally still.
Not even breath to cause movement. He’s thinking, probably how best to obey Phantom’s order. It’s really, really hard for him not to scare anyone.
An idea strikes, and Phantom turns to Nightwing.
“Is there something of your family he could take? A symbol to soothe your brother and know he’s a friend?”
Nightwing’s still staring, awestruck and unable to look away from the massive kneeling knight.
It’s the father, black clad and tensed who steps forward. Reaches into the innumerable pouches on his belt, and pulls out a yellow cape that should not have fit.
The red helmeted one stops breathing when he sees it. The smallest hisses between his teeth, backing away.
Their father ignores both, stepping slowly, surely towards Phantom and his kneeling knight. Offers the cape.
It’s made for a child, and as Phantom takes it he notes that it’s just too small for the body he’s now wearing. Wouldn’t be half bad as a blanket though.
“This. This will be… he will know who gave it to you.” It’s the most emotion he seems capable of, and Phantom nods, taking the cape with the reverence that deserves.
He passes it down to the Fright Knight, who takes it with a gentleness that still surprises Phantom on occasion. Such a large, spiked figure seems like he’d always be rough, but he can be delicate.
Then the Fright Knight nods and stands, turning to survey the room, and even the humans at the other side of the warehouse take another leap back.
Red Robin’s soul isn’t here, as Phantom expected, and it’s confirmed when the Fright Knight remounts his steed and turns, spurring her back into the Infinite Realms.
Phantom smiles at the humans.
“So. That’s that sorted out.”
