Chapter 7

Well, this was bad. While their devil form didn't have certain vulnerabilities, like literally any orifice, nor a face, instead having a smooth faceplate that simply didn't have anything distinct beneath it, their throat was still necessary for speech.

This 'Etrigan' demon was far more humanlike, looking somewhat like a bodybuilder that had decided to put on the alien makeup of a science fiction television show rather than the more eldritch appearance that Rhine had assumed. Etrigan's red bodysuit was even tight enough to note that he was fully male, despite Rhine's sexless status. Was that not normal for demons?

Robin had reflexively used his grapple to vanish behind a gargoyle, as he was trained, but had then made the foolish decision to charge back into battle. That very same grapple wrapped around the arm that Etrigan was using to hold Rhine and pulled, accelerating the young boy's flying kick.

"Skin of stone, breaks your bones." Etrigan intoned, his yellow skin flashing gray for just long enough for Robin to impact his shoulder feet-first.

Robin screamed in pain as his target didn't yield in the slightest, collapsing on the ground beneath the demon. Rhine didn't think his bones were actually broken, but he was not prepared for that hard of a landing. They'll need to remember that one.

Still, letting the boy get any more injured would not end well for anyone. With an exertion of will, black energy enveloped Rhine's wing and they swept it at the boy, launching him away while coating him in a protective sheath of energy to blunt his landing well over ten meters away.

"Curious and curiouser, as it were." Etrigan mused, looking at Tanya's wings. "Demon stink is not common, but who do I find but one of the fallen?"

Do they need to breathe? It feels like they do. From the MRI, Rhine knows they possess lungs, even if the air gets magically inhaled past their faceplate in a purified state. Batman had theorized that it was an adaptation to protect against the toxic air of Hell. Still, they needed to distract him from Robin.

Dark magic covered their wings once more, their devil form able to exert their will without needing to invoke their magical mantra like their human forms, and sharpened into blades that they used to attempt to cut off Etrigan's arm, or at least injure it.

Etrigan released Rhine from his grip, withdrawing his arm and only gaining a small cut from one of their wingtips. What to cast first… "Calling power from Gotham's might," Rhine began, gathering power from the local flows of power.

"-Naught but strength shall carry this night." Etrigan finished, quashing Rhine's spell. What? Etrigan could sense Rhine's shock, and grinned savagely. "You are but a neophyte, in rhymes instead of shining bright."

What was he talking about? Shining bright? This was clearly a much more experienced demon, although Rhine was sensing that his level of power was comparable to theirs. Time to de-escalate. "This one is tasked until the morrow, with you I do not have a quarrel." Rhine said, carefully not putting magic into their words. A glance to where Robin was showed that he had vanished. Hopefully he wouldn't be so fool as to attempt a repeat performance with that sneak attack.

Etrigan scoffed. "Do you think me blind? I can see no bind behind." He said, gesturing to Rhine in general. "A summoner does not compel thee, you are plainly a demon, free."

Ah, that's the issue. Hm, now that they've recovered from the ambush, they like their chances if hostilities were to resume, particularly if Robin was smart enough to warn Batman of the situation and allowed them to bring the Batmobile, which has large enough weapons to matter here. But diplomacy may still yet have its place. "Chains of magic are absent, yes, but honor and duty pass the test. My task was to protect the boy, apprentice to Batman, whom I'm in employ." The compulsion to speak exclusively in rhymes did have one mercy: the rhymes didn't have to be any good.

Etrigan considered that. "I have heard stories of the Batman. I did not think him a madman." He chopped the air, scoffing. "Do you think me a fool? No demon is willingly a tool."

"Only a fool would work for free, My payment is worth it to agree." Tanya replied, repeating his gesture. "My word is all the bond I need, work for pay, it is my creed."

"A spear for hire? With Batman the buyer?" Etrigan said, thinking about it more.

Before he could come to a decision, the Batmobile drove up to the battle. They were already in the middle of the parking lot, the number of cars still there able to be counted on one hand, likely people who were staying overnight in the dormitories without being a normal resident. "Etrigan." Came Batman's voice from the Batmobile's speaker system. The turret emerged and pointed straight at the demon. "This turret is loaded with anti-demon munitions. Walk away." Rhine was 70% sure that it was a bluff. They were not previously aware of any anti-demon munitions project. But also didn't particularly expect Batman to tell them about it if there was. That was just the nature of Batman's paranoia.

After a beat, Etrigan nodded. "Your story has merit, I'll give it credit." He took a step back away from Rhine. "My territory intact, my presence contract." An opaque orange-red portal opened up behind him, pulling the demon through.

Sighing, Rhine turned to shadow and entered the Batmobile. Letting their head emerge from the space between Batman and Robin, they poked at Robin's legs. "Let us go home, and cease to roam."

Robin winced. "They're still a little tender from that bad landing." He said, "Nothing's broken or even sprained, but it's already bruised."

Batman put the car into gear and started driving back to the Batcave. "Despite how it ended, that went well." He admitted, "Between the three of us, more got done than if I had gone out alone. That matters."

"Yeah, and that's probably the only demon waiting in the wings." Robin added, "Who knew that the University had one?"

"I suspect Jason Blood summoned him as a kind of… guard." Batman mused, "There's been rumors of a rhyming monster for a few years, but I had never met him until now."

"Equal in strength are him and I, experience will apply." Rhine observed. While they didn't see enough to really rate his combat experience, Rhine liked their odds from what they did see. Unfortunately, he vastly outdid them in magic experience. So… iffy. "He chants to interrupt, my spells it will disrupt."

"...I didn't get that. Can you turn back now?" Robin asked.

Batman moved his right arm out of the way, and Rhine moved their shadowy presence to occupy that space. "Finished is the job of Rhine, back to mortality is the time." As it turned out, hellfire was not a necessary effect of transforming, as when they transformed back while in shadow form, they merely turned back with the same process that they use to rematerialize. "Ah, that's better." Tanya said, shifting her position on Batman's lap to be more comfortable.

"So what were you saying?" Robin asked.

"He cut off my spell by finishing my rhyme for me." Tanya said, "I was shocked, it caught me off balance. If I was ready for it, I think I could fight him on even terms unless he was hiding his strength, but I'm not sure. I'd need some practice in combat magic, I think."

"Hm. Could you do the same to him?" Robin asked.

"Probably, but spontaneously countering his rhymes sounds difficult." Tanya said, frowning. "Now, where is…" she opened up a compartment, pulling out a meal bar. "Ah, perfect." She opened it up and started eating. Delicious peanut butter… She held out the other one to Robin. "Want it?" She said with her mouth full.

"Yes." Robin said immediately, wolfing down the other meal bar. "I don't know how you skip so many meals, Bruce." He said with his own mouth full. "Even circus folk know that jumping around all day is hungry work."

"I get by with bars like those." Batman said. "I don't skip on calories." He looked at the now-empty compartment. "Well, I didn't."

"You'll just have to eat what Alfred prepared, then." Tanya said authoritatively. "He'll be thrilled." She took another bite of the bar.

Batman sighed as he took the turn to enter the Batcave, the obstacle lowering itself to allow them passage.

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The Justice League was currently… more of a superhero club than anything else. The Hall of Justice was built in Houston, so as to facilitate coordination with NASA for space-based threats. It had ten wings and a central meeting chamber, with resources allocated to each wing to support one of the founding members and others similar to them.

As the only 'proper' magical hero, Rhine got their own wing, until more magicians were recruited. Which meant: until now.

"I gotta say, these are some nice digs." John Constantine said approvingly as he looked over the magical wing. "Not really properly magical, most of this shite is just for atmosphere, but it's good for that, innit?" He gestured to the summoning circle room. "Well, that looks proper genuine, although I've never seen a bloke etch a circle on a clay tablet like that. Issat movable?"

"Yes." Batman said, as he was nominally a warlock or something and was thus giving the League's newest magician a tour.

"Well how about that." John took a swig from his flask. "So that's to summon that demon you got hiding in your shadow, then? Use it to get here from Gotham and back?"

"Yes." Batman said in the exact same tone as before.

"That's a useful trick. Got one for me to have back in England?" John asked.

"No." Batman said, harsher than before.

"Fine, I'll get me own taxi demon then." John said, waving it off. "Who'd you get to do the circle?"

"Machine-etched." Batman said simply.

"That'll ruin the magic, mate. You gotta have a practitioner draw it." John said, looking at it weirdly. "Can't do it blindly, either. Intent matters."

"Hand-cranked machines count." Batman replied, a trace of amusement in his tone. "Then we fire it, naturally."

"Well… fuck me then." John said, kneeling down to inspect the circle more closely. "I mean, stencils work, bloody cookie cutters work, old fashioned printing presses work… Why not put a hand-crank on a fancier one?"

"Summoning Rhine without my permission will not end well for you." Batman said menacingly. "No matter where you hide."

John immediately stood up. "Jesus mate, I was just admiring the work!" He said nervously, the lie thick on his tongue. "It's just polite to not summon another practitioner's familiar, I understand completely."

"I don't care about your reasoning." Batman continued, "If the choice is summoning her or your own death…" His cowl showed his furrowed brow. "Die. Do you understand?"

"Crystal." John said nervously. "Y'know, though, getting too close to a demon never ends well." After a moment, he elaborated. "You know, emotionally close. I speak from experience."

Batman hummed. "Noted." Rhine wondered whether Constantine was just trying to provoke them into reacting.

"My loyalty is ironclad, a futile attempt to make me mad." Rhine intoned, poking their head out of Batman's shadow.

"Eugh, the faceless ones always give me the willies." John said, wincing at Rhine's mask-like face. Rhine stretched out a wing and tripped him. "Bollocks!" He exclaimed as he fell face-first into the wall. "Cheeky tart." He grumbled.

Tanya emerged from Batman's shadow and floated in the air. Their devil form was, naturally, rather mutable, but it defaulted to being about five foot six. "You reek of smoke, and are clearly broke." Tanya retorted, feeling annoyed with the vulgar Brit. This was partially cheating, while Constantine didn't directly state that he was primarily interested in any potential paycheck he could get from the League, Batman had already compiled a file that confirmed that, at the very least, his traceable net worth was around negative two hundred thousand dollars, and he had been treading water with that debt for at least seven months. How much of it he could make up for in untraceable assets was, naturally, unclear.

"Alright, I know when I'm not wanted, damned fallen." John said petulantly, looking carefully at Rhine's wings. Wait, Etrigan called them that too… "So, while we're on the subject, how much does this gig pay?"

"Directly?" Batman asked rhetorically. "Nothing." John scowled at this, but kept listening. "But it also doesn't have any hard requirements beyond providing assistance when requested for matters beyond another member. No current member is paid for their vigilante activities."

"I'm hearing a lot of weasel words there, Bats." John said testily. "Make your pitch."

"We partner with a number of corporate interests that deal in dangerous technology, particularly companies that have secured some of the alien salvage from the invasion." Batman explained. "STAR labs, Waynetech, Lexcorp, Queen Industries…" He gestures vaguely. "A large portion of threats beyond normal law enforcement get their start stealing such technology, so it's a natural partnership. It's helpful to retain channels of communication with such companies, although there is a necessary distance to the relationship." The UN endorsed the Justice League, and at least having a dedicated line of communication with the Justice League for security concerns related to that technology was the bare minimum compliance of getting to study the salvage.

That wasn't to say that there weren't unaccounted for salvage, but a solid eighty percent was tracked by the Justice Cluster, a set of supercomputers that secretly served as an extension to the Batcomputer. It was in the bylaws that any member in good standing can use the computer for their crime fighting at any time or even for personal use while in the Hall of Justice, with a pre-drafted set of procedures if it ever becomes crowded. No one had yet used it for pornography, but Rhine was sure it was only a matter of time.

"So how does that relate to me?" John asked, curious.

"Waynetech's magic research division is currently small, but it's funded." Batman said, finally getting to the point. "If it's money you're after, we could contact Mr. Wayne and refer you to them. You would have to make the arrangements on how much or how little you're willing to offer them, but an introduction, assuring them of your competence, is simple enough."

John hummed at the offer. "Well, that sounds nice… but what if I walked up to Lexcorp instead and buddied up to him? Think he'd make me a better offer than Big Daddy Wayne?"

Rhine snorted, suppressing their laughter. That was the latest tabloid nickname for Bruce, and it had exploded in popularity. Even major news organizations were… well, not quite using it, but commenting on how it was being used. It was hilarious how much it bothered Bruce, as he thought it made him sound like a creepy old man chasing after young women.

"I wouldn't recommend that." Batman said coolly. "Unless you like the idea of being used against Superman."

"To shop around is his right, as an expert with might." Rhine offered. "That said, the market's dead."

"If you wish to convince another company to invest in magical research, I won't stop you, and will introduce you just the same." Not that he couldn't stop him, but won't. Batman didn't give an evil grin, but Rhine liked to imagine he wanted to after he said the words that were guaranteed to convince John that Waynetech was the way to go: "Do you have a business plan for your proposal to them?"

John processed the question."Waynetech, you said? So do you have some kind of special phone or something?"

As it turned out, John Constantine had quite a bit of magical lore that he was willing to trade copies of to a soulless corporation, as it was 'better terms than Azreal offered'. A ringing endorsement, to be sure.

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[Batman]

It's been a busy night. The Joker had engineered a mass breakout of Arkham Asylum, which not only released some genuinely sick people who will be set back substantially by this interruption of their therapy, but also several less-insane people who are unrepentant murderers and felons.

Already, he had managed to put Firebug, Calendar Man, Tanya's mother Heather Graystone (who he needs to make a proper rogue file for now, for her new alias 'Hecate') and Victor Zasz back where they belonged, but for every one he manages to catch before they could do much damage, there are four that manage to go to ground and start planning their next caper. Would he be able to find any more tonight? Dawn was in just another hour…

"Knew I'd find you here, Bats." John Constantine said, taking Batman out of his thoughts as he rested and planned out his next move. He held a keychain with Batman's logo on it in his hand, and its motion was not adequately explained by normal pendulum mechanics. It was a tracking fetish. Tanya had made one for him before the last time he needed to track down the Scarecrow. "Need to talk to you. Man to man."

Hm. Batman knew that Constantine was already in town, so this wasn't necessarily that important, but… "I'm listening."

"Great." Constantine said, "I'll just put up a little privacy spell. Blocks electronics too." Before Batman could tell him otherwise, he took out a lead coin, flipped it, and with a small light show, the section of roof they both stood on was cut off from the outside world, the sounds of Gotham cut off.

"Hm." Batman grunted disapprovingly. He took a step outside the circle that was now burned into the ground. The sounds resumed. He stepped back inside. Nothing. "Talk." Alfred was his overwatch right now, as it was a school night and Tanya had gone back to bed after her 3AM snack, last he heard.

"Right. Well, I'm pretty sure that little Demon you've got has been lying to you." Constantine said.

"What makes you say that?" Batman asked.

"Now, I don't know what they have been telling you, it's why I'm only pretty sure, but that isn't a demon. It's a fallen angel." Constantine said softly, seriously.

Batman raised an eyebrow. "And?"

Constantine sighed in frustration. "Do you have any idea how much of a cunt you have to be to fall from grace nowadays?" he asked rhetorically. "Sure, you see how many bigwigs in Hell are fallen angels and think 'oh, that's probably nothing to worry about' like it's just some shite weather, but it's bad news!"

Hm. "Explain." Batman demanded.

"Okay, so demons usually come about in three ways: " Constantine began, "First, a mortal soul gets tortured enough to warp into one, barely managing to muster the will to do so to escape their tortures, eternally shaped by it and forgetting most everything but pain."

Hm, except for her unusually lucid recollection of her past lives, that seemed to fit Tanya.

"Second, another demon makes them. The reasons vary, but they're still made from mortal souls, just… processed ones. They're not stubborn enough to turn themselves into demons." Constantine continued, "Sometimes they use whole ones, that's what the whole 'buying souls' thing is about, they can turn it into a custom-built slave once the poor sucker kicks it. There's gobs of ways to do it, but that's not important." Batman disagreed, but it wasn't relevant to Constantine's point so he let it slide.

"The last way is to have an Angel get thrown into hell personally by the One Above All himself." Constantine finished. "Thing is, no one makes demons anymore due to the Nephilim Accords, the thing that started the Fifth Age two thousand years ago. Any demon that gets made means an angel gets made too, and vice versa. Fallen tip the balance, so the other Angels are real hesitant to petition the big guy to do the deed." He made a bird shadow puppet gesture with his hands. "The upside down wings are a big giveaway. No demon's stupid enough to fake it, and the real ones would sooner get rid of them than flaunt them."

This was rather worrying news. Not the fallen angel stuff, but this whole 'Fifth Age' thing. The fact that the Common Era started two thousand years ago was probably no coincidence, he was sure. "So what does this change?" Batman asked, curious as to what he'll say.

"Well, that depends on what they told you." Constantine said, waving his hand vaguely. "Did you know they were a fallen angel?" Batman thought about not answering, but decided to just shake his head. "When Wonder Bird told me that the local demon was young, I was skeptical, because of them Accords I talked about." He continued, "Figured they were taking the lot of you for a ride. But a fallen…" He shook his head ruefully. "Whatever past they've told you about, it's much worse."

Tanya was rather cagey on the details of her past lives. He knew there were two, that the second one ended with being executed at age 14 after losing a war, and in the first one they had been Japanese, graduating from Tokyo University, and was murdered by being pushed in front of a train. She had outright denied being 'old' when teased by Dick, as she had never experienced the ravages of age.

Of course, Tanya also admitted that she doesn't actually remember a lot of the smaller details, as they spent an unknown amount of time (her exact words were "It might have been a day, it felt like a thousand years, couldn't tell you how long it was") burning on a cross. She was definitely avoiding certain topics, but given that the only thing that information could affect would be the opinions of those who know her, Batman didn't blame her for being secretive about it. He didn't like it, but he understood.

He thought more about what little she shared about her dispute with this 'Being X' who claimed to be God. "...what if a mortal was flung into hell by God directly? Would they still look like a fallen angel?"

That stopped Constantine short. "...Hell if I know." He admitted, "I'd need to ask someone old enough to remember that happening. None of them would take any of my calls right now, but is that what she claimed happened?" Batman remained silent. "I mean… angels are made from mortal souls too, so… maybe?" He frowned, "Of course, making unprovable claims like that would be a good idea to use for a fake story to gain sympathy points." He warned, which was fair.

"What do you think her endgame is?" Batman asked, "You should know that I'm not binding her or anything like that, so it can't be freedom. She has it."

"Hm. You got me there, Bats." Constantine admitted. "Demons and Angels, fallen and non, are people at the end of the day. Selfish bastards who see us that are still shackled to mortality as beneath them, but people. That's not a good thing, a demon's urge to spread the pain that consumes their early memories is the most human bloody shite there is. Keep that in mind, Bats?"

"I will." Batman said, thinking back. "Destroy that tracker." He ordered.

"Little trinket like this wouldn't last long enough to be useful again anyway." Constantine said, conjuring some fire and defacing the keychain. He dropped it after it caught alight and stomped it out like a cigarette. "That should do it. Ruined the privacy spell too, while I was at it." The burned lump of plastic was now on top of the magic circle, breaking it. The sorcerer fished out a cigarette and lit it, which Batman took as his cue to leave.

"Well, do you wanna go have a bite somewhere?" Constantine asked after taking a drag of his cigarette. He looked around, confused. "Bats?"

Still, as Batman drove off he thought more on Constantine's words, and compared it to Tanya's actions. How well did her actions support her story? At first, there was some awkwardness, as each of them weren't quite sure how to balance the act and the truth, but she seemed to be most comfortable with the act when she was throwing herself wholeheartedly into it without needing to worry about what other people thought, even seeming to draw genuine comfort from acts of paternal affection, which he had initially chalked up to touch starvation.

…Probably best to not change anything yet. He learned very quickly that Tanya was rather empathetic, so her ability to act her age was directly proportional to his ability to accept whatever she did as normal. If he let the truth bother him, she would panic and mess up her act in an attempt to allay his concerns. It was only later that he learned that her empathy was supernatural, which kind of made sense, if you considered how Tanya was far from the only faceless demon/angel. Being able to sense emotions regardless of body language would be useful when their shapes and cues would be so different.

He had never written her psychological profile down, in case she found it, but he still made one, just like he did for all of his enemies and allies. Her primary comfort zone is when she knows exactly what is expected of her and is confident in her ability to do it, while expecting adequate reward for that thing. It was the furthest thing from an alien mindset that Batman could imagine, when put that way, but… Hm. Constantine was right: That wasn't a good thing.

In the end, all he really needed to know was this: When he woke his daughter in the morning, and she noticed it was him there instead of Alfred, she smiled for real.