The underworld is an odd place, truly. One comes upon the strangest things and the people one both wants to seee and wants to avoid.
Jason Blood is the sort of man the Batman is wary of seeing but unsurprised to glimpse. With him are two people: a transluscent figure - that of Boston Brand - and a tall figure who looks not unlike the man beneath the cowl. "Jason."
He met Jason Blood at the Charity Gallery in Gotham. He had sensed something strange about him, and now he knew. This must be yet another friend of his father's that engages in magic.
"Batman and son? Rather strange travelers for these parts." His normally civilized mannerisms seem absurd when coupled with his unkempt appearance and rasping voice.
He addresses Ibn, "I believe the last time we met, you attempted to have me evicted from the McNider Fund Gala."
"And you were arrogantly flaunting knowledge about my father that could have gotten us both killed. But that is neither here nor there, I suspect all of us rather ardently wish to return to the land of the living..."
"Jason," Batman says before things can get too ugly, "what happened?" He keeps moving too. Getting out is what matters, and staying in one place is not getting out.
Jason smirks and disregards young Ibn's cheek. The family resemblance is impeccable.
"I recently had help recovering from an unexpected memory loss. Unfortunately, some things are better left forgotten." He moves along with them. "I came here to confront some personal demons, but, as I'm sure you've found out, it's easy to get sidetracked. "What happened to you, B-" he catches himself and shoots a quick glace at Ibn, "Batman?"
Batman isn't known for using first names, or for doing anything remotely personal, while wearing the cape and cowl, but he grunts, "No need for formality here," and pulls out something odd from his utility belt: a pair of towelettes. They have a lot of uses, but still, seeing the Bat produce them has to be a little odd. "Ibn was brought here before his time. Came to get him back. Boston," and here there's that nasty Dark Knight grin toward the ghost, "lives here."
"Where's the ankh pointing?" says Boston, all business again. It's not an everyday occurrence, so things must be serious.
"It'll take us to a place that sorta parallels Crime Alley, then I use the energy I've been channeling to beat this new barrier between the land of the living and the land of the dead. One shot deal. The trick won't work twice."
The rhyme of the demon Etrigan echoes as they move. "Prematurely, their mortal world quit, They seek the path home. But if they stay here instead, All will sing the praises of the Prince of the Dead Who claimed Batman and Son for the Pit."
Jason is immediately on edge. He looks around furiously for the demon. They haven't spoken without a mirror between them in a very long time. "Let them pass, Etrigan. You have no claim to them."
The Demon reveals himself to them. His eyes gleam with malice and his mouth pulls back into a hideous smile. Ignoring Jason completely, he addresses Batman. "A smooth, deep slice across your son's belly should work- His bowels will spill out and his spine will sever. Your bones are lyrical when they crash together. Then, perhaps a firm grasp of your neck and a quick jerk."
"Stop! Collaborate and listen!" he shouts angrily at the demon. "No time for rhymes, so here's a plan, get offa the path 'fore we kick your can. Can't touch this. Break it down."
Jason Blood is the sort of man the Batman is wary of seeing but unsurprised to glimpse. With him are two people: a transluscent figure - that of Boston Brand - and a tall figure who looks not unlike the man beneath the cowl. "Jason."
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He addresses Ibn, "I believe the last time we met, you attempted to have me evicted from the McNider Fund Gala."
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"I recently had help recovering from an unexpected memory loss. Unfortunately, some things are better left forgotten." He moves along with them. "I came here to confront some personal demons, but, as I'm sure you've found out, it's easy to get sidetracked.
"What happened to you, B-" he catches himself and shoots a quick glace at Ibn, "Batman?"
Reply
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"It'll take us to a place that sorta parallels Crime Alley, then I use the energy I've been channeling to beat this new barrier between the land of the living and the land of the dead. One shot deal. The trick won't work twice."
Reply
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"Prematurely, their mortal world quit,
They seek the path home. But if they stay here instead,
All will sing the praises of the Prince of the Dead
Who claimed Batman and Son for the Pit."
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"Let them pass, Etrigan. You have no claim to them."
Reply
"A smooth, deep slice across your son's belly should work-
His bowels will spill out and his spine will sever.
Your bones are lyrical when they crash together.
Then, perhaps a firm grasp of your neck and a quick jerk."
Reply
Reply
"Stop! Collaborate and listen!" he shouts angrily at the demon. "No time for rhymes, so here's a plan, get offa the path 'fore we kick your can. Can't touch this. Break it down."
Reply
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