"Those were the Demon Head's orders, Lady Shiva." The shadow bowed their head.
"I see. You're dismissed. Rendezvous with Talia for your next assignment."
The shadow nodded once before leaping away across the rooftops. Shiva remained where she was, simply enjoying the silence of the night as she overlooked Gotham.
Her recent assignment had proven both a joy and a vexation.
Rare was it that she got to truly stretch her skills against so many martial combatants at once. The wild, chaotic fight still had her blood thrumming as she showed them exactly why she was considered the greatest martial artist in the world.
Still, satisfying as it had been to reaffirm that reputation, her professional pride had been irritated by having a job stolen from her, even if she cared little for the monetary reward.
Even so, the amusement of the Bat's success served as a small balm to that wounded pride. The Joker's castration was long overdue, in her opinion.
Perhaps the Bat would finally grow bold enough to kill in the future, as all who truly pursue the martial arts should.
Dancing with the Bat was one of the few pleasures Gotham offered her. Fighting a Batman who went for the kill, though? She felt a shiver run down her spine at the thought.
What a joy that would be.
Still, she couldn't let idle dreams distract her from her duties.
Unfortunately, Talia was in the city as well, pursuing yet another one of her schemes involving the Bat and her own boy. Shiva could sympathize to a point. Her own rebellious child still deluded herself with justice and heroism.
Cassandra was an adult now. It was long overdue for her to see the truth.
That didn't change the fact that Talia was hoarding the shadows for yet another of her harebrained ideas. As if the woman hadn't yet realized that overengineered schemes would never enlighten either of them.
The fool put far too much stock in her own wit. She should've understood by now that the true way to change a person's heart was through battle.
Her last few attempts at correcting Cassandra had always been interrupted, but eventually she would cross blades with her daughter again and show her the truth.
More annoyingly, most of the shadows left in the city had fallen under Talia's command, leaving little manpower for Shiva's own work. Ra's obsession with the Bat was no doubt to blame.
She was a professional, so she voiced no complaints.
That didn't mean she couldn't be vexed.
No matter. Her own skill would be sufficient for this assignment.
She opened the envelope and looked over the target's dossier.
It was a bit… strange.
Thin or nearly empty target packages were a common sight in the business. More often than not, the most dangerous people in the world kept their cards close to their chest, as they should.
This Jean Valjean, though…
The dossier detailing him was nearly filled to the brim. The packet in her hands was almost as thick as both her thumbs together. The most notable of his abilities was his magic. Some form of stone golems, along with the ability to produce magical "potions." But beyond that, his reputation carried so many feats attributed to him that Shiva likely could have spent the next hour reading through them all.
The League of Shadows didn't tolerate sloppiness in its work. If something appeared in a target file, then there had to be at least some substance to the claim.
She understood now why she had been assigned.
Even if only a portion of it was true, it would require a closer hand to uncover the truth, especially if he truly possessed so many esoteric abilities. A woman of her skill was needed for that, not some subpar shadow.
Still, even if most of these claims were little more than wind, if even a few were true, it would be quite impressive for someone his age.
She paused when she reached the photo of her target.
"Hmm. He's quite fetching."
A strange thought came to mind. She had toiled long and felt confident she could claim a seat in the Light.
Her path was slowly opening before her as she accrued more and more merit, but…
She was growing more tired of Ra's with each passing day.
Perhaps she should consider other options.
Striking out on her own…
The idea became more enticing the longer she entertained it.
She would need men and power to make herself a player fit for the table. And what better time or place to claim it?
This Jean Valjean seemed quite the catch, all of that rolled into one man.
She grinned as she leaped from the rooftops.
If he proved worthy… perhaps she might even give Cassandra a sibling…
—
Parties were great. You drank, you laughed, and for a little while you got to forget about how harsh the world could be. The problem was that dealing with the aftermath was always a pain in the ass, whether you were some small-time goon or one of the biggest crime bosses in Gotham.
Just like I'd expected, I caught a lot of shit from both Harvey and Cobblepot.
Which… fair. I absolutely deserved it.
I still didn't regret a thing.
How could I?
No man could turn down the chance for a threesome.
Unfortunately, my appeal to bro code had fallen on deaf ears with my two fellow criminals.
Instead, I got thrown back into the potion mines. I slaved away from dusk till dawn, churning out dozens of refineries for potions until they were finally satisfied.
"Ugh… my hands and back still ache," I groaned. "I'm their boss, right? They could've shown me a little more respect."
A harsh chorus filled my ears, and despite no actual words being spoken, I could feel the admonishment in the tone.
I looked up at my angel familiar.
"You too, Simmy?" I raised my hands in mock sadness. "Betrayal on all sides."
Another chime came from the angel, carrying the distinct feeling of an eyeroll before she ascended into Gotham's night sky. I'd long since learned to stop questioning her, so I just shrugged at her retreating back, knowing full well she could still see me.
A few moments later, I stopped in front of the old house tied to the address I'd been given for the expert I was looking for. It was a surprisingly well-kept townhouse, clean and ordinary in a way that didn't fit the man's profession at all. Then again, maybe the stranger part was that he'd chosen to keep a place like this out here.
I glanced around at the neighborhood and found plenty of decrepit, abandoned houses scattered across the block. Why a magician would choose to make the slums his home was beyond me, but to each their own.
I pressed the doorbell.
A middle-aged man with red hair split by a single white streak opened the door.
"Professor Blood?" I asked.
"Yes?" He gave me a small nod. "Is there something I can help you with, young man?"
"Yeah, John said—"
"I'm sorry. By John, do you mean John Constantine?" The red-haired man stared at me.
"Yes? He—"
The door slammed shut with a resounding bang.
God fucking damn it, John…
***
Comments and Thoughts would be greatly appreciated. Likes are like a drug to me and boost my creative juices.
I have advanced chapters on my Pa tre on/daisyberry if you wanna read ahead.