With Fate's agreeing to escape the Witch Queen, rather than to fight, the heroes dive through the portal, following the object of their quest ... an amulet that could balance the forces of chaos within the sorceror
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"Longer," says Arion, nodding. "By your time, my Atlantis has sunk from mankind's view, claimed by the magicks at its heart. Likewise, in your time, I am a remnant of what I once was, a whisper in the waves to Atlantis' champions."
He holds the amulet up to eye level, and examines it.
"I swear there's a gene in all mystics that makes them tell stories in long and elaborate manners instead of just getting to the point." Yes, she's cranky wanna make something of it?
The mystic looks young -- thirties, maybe. Clean, handsome with long, curly hair. He looks like a superhero, really. Not like most of the mystic oddballs in their trenchcoats.
Except for his eyes. His eyes look unspeakably old, and piercing like sharp diamond.
"Gemma Marsters," he says, and there's something in his tone that says he's been waiting for this meeting a long time. "And just as forthright as I'd been led to believe. But yes, you're right. The point. I owe the Justice Society that. Especially as I have abused your trust for so long."
"We have," says Arion, and he flinches. Just a flash of something. Guilt? "I've met one of your number, or will ... in many centuries to come. She was a lost creature, with no place in the world. So I gave her one."
The wind is fresh and clean, and when it kicks up, he wraps a his cloak tight around him.
"I did it to protect her ... to keep her safe for the coming war ... but now she has begun to see through that facade."
"No," he says ... a little coldly, and those eyes seem to be baring down on her for a moment. "Of her origins, I know not. She has hidden herself well. I ... my allies ... we have been searching for her, to no avail. We only know when she rises, not whereof she comes."
He lowers his head sadly.
"No, I speak of another. One I claimed as my own granddaughter. You call her Power Girl."
"Don't you go getting pissy with me, we're all being attacked by the Witch Queen then dragged here and you start tellin' some deep dark secret. If you don't want me to make assumptions give me names when you start talkin' because not ALL of us have centuries of practice at this!" The word 'wanker' may be muttered under her breath after her outburst and her accent is as thick as Constantine's right now. She hates looking like an idiot.
"Wait...Power Girl..." She looks at the others with a small frown. "Centuries in the future?" She doesn't want to voice the question that just came to mind.
"Indeed," says Dr. Occult -- now standing where Rose Psychic was a moment before. "We're now far in the past, well before the recorded history of man. Atlantis as it was."
Occult rests his hands in his trenchcoat pocket and stands casually, with his shoulders sloped. But it's not too much effort to see that he's subtly positioned himself between Arion and Gemma, as though half-wary of an attack.
"That's not a coincidence, is it Lord Arion? Power Girl, Fate, Gemma -- they're all tied together in some strange knot."
"Oh fuck me now what?" She's noticed the change in stance although it says something that Rose changing to Psychic didn't even blip on her radar this time.
"Isn't it obvious?" says Occult, not taking his eyes from Arion. The pieces have been right in front of us for some time.
"Mr. Garrick sees a vision of the future, a controlled Dr. Fate eliminating Superman at the behest of The Witch Queen, whom you others met just recently."
His face is placid ... he could be discussing sports results.
"But that was also The Witch Queen of the future. Which means the Witch Queen is a significantly younger woman in our day and age. Isn't that right, Lord Arion?"
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"I ... I know you. Of Old.
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He holds the amulet up to eye level, and examines it.
"Which is why it was neccesary to pull you here.
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"Someone kick me if I start doin' it."
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Except for his eyes. His eyes look unspeakably old, and piercing like sharp diamond.
"Gemma Marsters," he says, and there's something in his tone that says he's been waiting for this meeting a long time. "And just as forthright as I'd been led to believe. But yes, you're right. The point. I owe the Justice Society that. Especially as I have abused your trust for so long."
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Still, she's a Constantine. So she folds her arms and scowls waiting in some damn answers.
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The wind is fresh and clean, and when it kicks up, he wraps a his cloak tight around him.
"I did it to protect her ... to keep her safe for the coming war ... but now she has begun to see through that facade."
And his face turns grim.
"Which means the battle has come."
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"Are you saying you made the Witch Queen?"
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He lowers his head sadly.
"No, I speak of another. One I claimed as my own granddaughter. You call her Power Girl."
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"Wait...Power Girl..." She looks at the others with a small frown. "Centuries in the future?" She doesn't want to voice the question that just came to mind.
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Occult rests his hands in his trenchcoat pocket and stands casually, with his shoulders sloped. But it's not too much effort to see that he's subtly positioned himself between Arion and Gemma, as though half-wary of an attack.
"That's not a coincidence, is it Lord Arion? Power Girl, Fate, Gemma -- they're all tied together in some strange knot."
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"Mr. Garrick sees a vision of the future, a controlled Dr. Fate eliminating Superman at the behest of The Witch Queen, whom you others met just recently."
His face is placid ... he could be discussing sports results.
"But that was also The Witch Queen of the future. Which means the Witch Queen is a significantly younger woman in our day and age. Isn't that right, Lord Arion?"
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