Constantine takes a deep, concerned breath. "I don't think that's a good idea. The Ghost king...." Batman frowns at Constantine's reticence, "surely they can't be that bad."
A grimace crosses the magician's face, "it is that bad, actually. The last king was Pariah Dark and he was so terrifying his subjects ran the fuck away- subjects more powerful than some of our heaviest hitters, mind you- an entire race of the immortal and overpowered dead, terrified of one man. And the new king defeated him... in single combat."
The league exchanged looks. Yeah, ok, that didn't sound too great.
Wondewoman huffed, "Well is there any other choice? Or do you still need to summon him?" Constantine stared at her for a moment, before glancing at the monitors, where various different scenes of Undergrowth collapsing citities play on loop. A begrudjing sigh leaves his lips and he takes a swig from the flask at his hip, before rolling his lip between his teeth. "I suppose not." He glances around at the table of heroes, and Zatanna meets his gaze with a matching look of fear-horror-concern.
For a moment, he merely fidgets, the cigarette in his hands a prop, the alcohol in his flask gently swaying, before he sighs again. "If we're going to do this, it's better thay we go to him. Summoning the ghost king..... there'd be no greater dishonour, and we really don't want to piss him off more than our mere mortal presence will. We'll have to... well have to go to him, and hope that he'll let us go, and maybe even help."
Once again, the League share concerned looks, increasingly wary.
"That's not how things are normally done, is it? Don't you normally just summon the entity here?" Flash asks.
Constantine huffs. "Yeah, for normal entities. Not for the bloody king of the Infinite Realms, overseer of the dead, alive, and those in all the Realms of the in between, before and after. Summoning him here without prior permission would be a death scentence- or worse, minding he controls what happens after, as well. No. No, we'll have to go to him- a sign of submission. Meet him in his home court and be as polite as fucking possible to the fucker in the hopes he'll let us out in one piece, willing to help."
Wary looks are exchanged once again, but after a moment of murmuring and a loud CRASH from the monitors showcasing Undergrowth's attempted reign of terror upon New York, the Justice Leage agree.
Ten minutes of debate, Constantine drawing up the reverse summoning circle, and Zatamna explaining the little knowledge Justice Leage Dark have of the Ghost King's court, and what to expect when arriving at the presumably extravagant exterior, outlined by ghostly henchmen, and finally they turn to the topic of who is actually going to meet the King.
It takes another five minutes of debate over who exactly should go with, until finally Wonfer Woman, The Flash, Batman and Superman are stepping up beside Constantine in a carefully drawn circle, leaving the rest of the League to watch in concerned anticipation, and to hold the line if they never return. A final nodd in farewell, and Constantine's changing pulls the five into a whirling cylinder of light, sound and rushing colours.
They arrive with a harsh THUMP, wooden floorboards creaking under their feet, and to an unexpected screech, with Wonder Woman catching a batarang to her head on reflex.
The five heroes stare down in shock as three heads pop up from the covers of a large bed, nestled into the wooden walls of Rook, the world's second greatest Detective (and, depending upon who you asked, the world's first greatest Detective), CEO of Wayne Enterprises' gently floating boat. In the middle of Gotham's definitely toxic marina. Not the Infinite Realms.
For a moment, they all just stared. The league found their Mouths falling open I'm slight shock at the sight of a three men- one with blond hair, another with black, and the last recognisable as Rook himself- stared back.
Taking a deep breathe from his cigarette, Constantine grimaced. "Hi. So, we want to talk to the Ghost King. And my summoning circles are practically never wrong. Who exactly will we be speaking to?"
The three men in the bed exchange looks, a silent conversation passing between them, before Tim and Danny gesture towards Bernard, cuddled up against them.
Taking a deep breath, Constantine nods. "Right. Well then, your majesty..."
