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thejusticelounge2012-08-03 10:43 pm
bossymarmalade) wrote in thejusticelounge2012-08-03 10:43 pm
Entry tags:
demon ownership 101
Jean LeNoir was alone in his New Orleans apartment – the one above his “Gulf Coast Voodoo Shop” where he sold trinkets to tourists. But his real business was here, upstairs. Jean was a magic adept. He had learned the black arts and had used them to gain the attention of the League of Assassins. Now he was one of them, a Fang. Jean wore his tattoo of fangs proudly. He had been given a very important task in this current war and he had succeeded, but not easily.
His fresh scars showed the result of his recent battle. He had tracked the immortal Jason Blood. And when the time was right, he and seven others had attacked him, the seven keeping him engaged while Jean used a binding spell to take control of his prize.
And through a vicious fight that ended with all seven of his compatriots dead, he had done just that. Luckily, the seven had fought Blood well enough that Jean himself was able to survive.
Barely. But now he had no protection, save for himself and his own powers. Hopefully that would be enough.
It had been hell to wrest control of Etrigan from Jason Blood, and Jean knew Blood would be coming for him soon. But the Master only needed him to make things dire for a short while, just long enough to push things over the edge. So using the demon and his powers, Jean set about distracting the heroes with supernatural occurrences all over as quickly as he could. He even sent the Demon on an errand – a quest for Green Arrow’s soul. He surmised that if he could be the one to pressure the Archer or one of his colleagues into making a mistake, the Master would reward him. And so with frogs and scorpions, maggots and boiling rivers, Jean put his plan into action.
But now was bleeding through his bandages and still suffering from the battle with Blood. Jean would need time to recover, but he knew time was fleeting at best. Blood had been defeated, but not killed. And now, the wounded conjurer’s only hope was that Etrigan could find the Emerald Archer before Blood or anyone else found him…
____________________________________________________
Jason Blood arrived in New Orleans, the Crescent City, at night. The Fang had been easy to track. To Jason, the trail he left might as well had been neon blinking signs pointing the way.
He stood in the warm night air across the street from a mockery of magic. This trinket shop was just a front, a way to hide in plain sight. Jason studied the building and the apartment above.
“That’s where he’ll be hiding…” Jason thought to himself.
Etrigan had been taken from him before and the results were never good. The Demon could be controlled, but without Jason at the helm, things could get dark. And Etrigan himself was never happy about doing the bidding of others. It had taken Jason decades to earn the Demon’s trust.
This LeNoir person did not have the skill to hold on for long. But Jason Blood was not going to give him the time to find out what it was like when Etrigan started fighting back. He was going to take the Demon back right now.
Climbing the fire escape and breaking out the window glass, Jason burst in on the assassin and found him sitting in a chair, bandaged and looking weak. When Jean tried to stand his legs were wobbly. “Please Mr. Blood! Have mercy! I was always gonna give him back! I just needed to borrow him for a short time. I swear!”
“For what purpose?” Jason demanded. “Nobody just borrows a demon, especially one as powerful as Etrigan.”
“I borrowed him so I could do THIS!” Flames shot forth from the sorcerer’s clenched fists as he stood strong. The weak and scared act was over. Jason hit the floor and crawled to his left behind a sofa. The flame assault abated.
“We are the Fangs that Protect the Head! We have a purpose and a plan. Even one as old and strong as you can not stop us. We will prevail for the Master. We will win the day for the Demon’s Head!” A second flame attack hit the sofa and it began to burn. Jason was running out of hiding places. But he was more than just a vessel for the Demon. He was a Knight of the Round Table. And this pretender was not long for this world. “The Demon is mine now! He is bound to me! And you can join him in hell!” shouted Jean LeNoir as he poured on the flame.
Jason dove from his burning protection and rolled into a spring jump. Planting his left foot on the wall, he changed direction and landed in front of the human flamethrower. In one swift motion, Jason unsheathed his sword and struck right at the assassin’s heart. “Funny thing about binding spells” Jason said as he pulled his sword from the magician’s chest and swung through his neck sending his head flying. “You have to be alive for them to work.”
Jason closed his eyes, returned his sword to its sheathe, and closed his eyes. It did not take long before he felt the heat and heard the crackling of flames.
“Jason Blood, I have returned. / I am not grateful, not one bit.
I was controlled by someone else. / A lowly, sniveling piece of shit.
He used my power, he gave a quest. / I fulfilled his every desire.
Tell me where he is right now / I wish to give the gift of fire.”
“He’s dead Etrigan. And you are returned to be. But before we reunite, I will give you a small token of my gratitude.” Blood motioned with his head to the assassin’s head lying on the floor.
The Demon smiled his razor-toothed smile as he bent down and picked it up. Then holding it above his head by the hair, Etrigan opened wide and swallowed it whole. Then turning to the headless body, the Demon let loose a torrent of fire from his mouth, burning it to a crisp.
“Ok, you’ve had your fun.” Blood said. “Time to go back home.”
Jason walked into Etrigan and the bonding began. It was always painful, but as the two of them melded once again, Jason said the enchanted words, “Gone, gone, O Etrigan! Rise again the form of man!” The fluctuations between demon and man stopped and so did the pain. Jason Blood stood alone in the apartment and looked at the still burning couch.
“Time to – wha?” Jason spit a scroll out from his mouth on the floor. He bent down, picked it up, and unrolled while reading. “Wait, why the hell do I own Oliver Queen’s soul now?”
His fresh scars showed the result of his recent battle. He had tracked the immortal Jason Blood. And when the time was right, he and seven others had attacked him, the seven keeping him engaged while Jean used a binding spell to take control of his prize.
And through a vicious fight that ended with all seven of his compatriots dead, he had done just that. Luckily, the seven had fought Blood well enough that Jean himself was able to survive.
Barely. But now he had no protection, save for himself and his own powers. Hopefully that would be enough.
It had been hell to wrest control of Etrigan from Jason Blood, and Jean knew Blood would be coming for him soon. But the Master only needed him to make things dire for a short while, just long enough to push things over the edge. So using the demon and his powers, Jean set about distracting the heroes with supernatural occurrences all over as quickly as he could. He even sent the Demon on an errand – a quest for Green Arrow’s soul. He surmised that if he could be the one to pressure the Archer or one of his colleagues into making a mistake, the Master would reward him. And so with frogs and scorpions, maggots and boiling rivers, Jean put his plan into action.
But now was bleeding through his bandages and still suffering from the battle with Blood. Jean would need time to recover, but he knew time was fleeting at best. Blood had been defeated, but not killed. And now, the wounded conjurer’s only hope was that Etrigan could find the Emerald Archer before Blood or anyone else found him…
____________________________________________________
Jason Blood arrived in New Orleans, the Crescent City, at night. The Fang had been easy to track. To Jason, the trail he left might as well had been neon blinking signs pointing the way.
He stood in the warm night air across the street from a mockery of magic. This trinket shop was just a front, a way to hide in plain sight. Jason studied the building and the apartment above.
“That’s where he’ll be hiding…” Jason thought to himself.
Etrigan had been taken from him before and the results were never good. The Demon could be controlled, but without Jason at the helm, things could get dark. And Etrigan himself was never happy about doing the bidding of others. It had taken Jason decades to earn the Demon’s trust.
This LeNoir person did not have the skill to hold on for long. But Jason Blood was not going to give him the time to find out what it was like when Etrigan started fighting back. He was going to take the Demon back right now.
Climbing the fire escape and breaking out the window glass, Jason burst in on the assassin and found him sitting in a chair, bandaged and looking weak. When Jean tried to stand his legs were wobbly. “Please Mr. Blood! Have mercy! I was always gonna give him back! I just needed to borrow him for a short time. I swear!”
“For what purpose?” Jason demanded. “Nobody just borrows a demon, especially one as powerful as Etrigan.”
“I borrowed him so I could do THIS!” Flames shot forth from the sorcerer’s clenched fists as he stood strong. The weak and scared act was over. Jason hit the floor and crawled to his left behind a sofa. The flame assault abated.
“We are the Fangs that Protect the Head! We have a purpose and a plan. Even one as old and strong as you can not stop us. We will prevail for the Master. We will win the day for the Demon’s Head!” A second flame attack hit the sofa and it began to burn. Jason was running out of hiding places. But he was more than just a vessel for the Demon. He was a Knight of the Round Table. And this pretender was not long for this world. “The Demon is mine now! He is bound to me! And you can join him in hell!” shouted Jean LeNoir as he poured on the flame.
Jason dove from his burning protection and rolled into a spring jump. Planting his left foot on the wall, he changed direction and landed in front of the human flamethrower. In one swift motion, Jason unsheathed his sword and struck right at the assassin’s heart. “Funny thing about binding spells” Jason said as he pulled his sword from the magician’s chest and swung through his neck sending his head flying. “You have to be alive for them to work.”
Jason closed his eyes, returned his sword to its sheathe, and closed his eyes. It did not take long before he felt the heat and heard the crackling of flames.
“Jason Blood, I have returned. / I am not grateful, not one bit.
I was controlled by someone else. / A lowly, sniveling piece of shit.
He used my power, he gave a quest. / I fulfilled his every desire.
Tell me where he is right now / I wish to give the gift of fire.”
“He’s dead Etrigan. And you are returned to be. But before we reunite, I will give you a small token of my gratitude.” Blood motioned with his head to the assassin’s head lying on the floor.
The Demon smiled his razor-toothed smile as he bent down and picked it up. Then holding it above his head by the hair, Etrigan opened wide and swallowed it whole. Then turning to the headless body, the Demon let loose a torrent of fire from his mouth, burning it to a crisp.
“Ok, you’ve had your fun.” Blood said. “Time to go back home.”
Jason walked into Etrigan and the bonding began. It was always painful, but as the two of them melded once again, Jason said the enchanted words, “Gone, gone, O Etrigan! Rise again the form of man!” The fluctuations between demon and man stopped and so did the pain. Jason Blood stood alone in the apartment and looked at the still burning couch.
“Time to – wha?” Jason spit a scroll out from his mouth on the floor. He bent down, picked it up, and unrolled while reading. “Wait, why the hell do I own Oliver Queen’s soul now?”