A Match Made in Hell

June 01, 2018:

Enchantress calls the Ghost Rider to discuss an alliance.

Gotham Arms Apartments - Roof - Gotham

Welcome to the roof.
It's on fire.
We don't need no water.
Let this mother fu—-

Accessed by the 6th Floors stairwell, the rooftop of the Gotham Arms has been re-purposed into something of a secondary living space. The main expanse is covered, not with tar and pitch, but with areas of padded, comfortable black weather resistant material, and with gravel forming a border to the padded areas. A covered seating area boasts a firepit in the center, with a good view of the city beyond. The two main features of the roof are an enclosed pool, allowing for year-round use, and a greenhouse and garden.

A great deal of work has been put into making the space into an area that incorporates the more industrial aspects of the roof, from the vents and HVAC machinery in a way that makes it a comfortable, rather than a cluttered space.

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions: Lilith (NPC - Mentioned)

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

Is there a forum for mythical beings? A chat line, a group hangouts? Probably not. But somehow, these sorts of things do get around. And now, the witch waits, perched on the edge of the rooftop wall, crouching, forearms on her knees, hands hanging loose and mobile. Her eyes were on the city beyond, but what she saw, what she sought was neither of the city or in it. But she did call. And she waited for the Spirit to arrive.

-

If one calls, they may or may not like the response.

The Witch will hear the ungodly sound of the Hellcycle as his rides its way up the side of the concrete building, landing in an inferno a safe distance away from the Enchantress. When the fire starts to die down? She'll see the Ghost Rider simply sitting down on his bike and staring at her. Eventually, the Spirit of Vengeance dismounts its loyal steed and walks over to the witch, speaking in a ghastly, bone-chilling voice. "Why did you call me."

-

"Perhaps I was only lacking for company." There's something very much like humour, in the witch's voice, as she steps down from the wall, coming to her full height and walking to meet the Rider. She wears her more feral aspect, to be sure, which leaves her in bare feet, and having to tilt her head back to study the creature's face, "The world is changing, Rider. We can no longer afford to ignore one another." As great powers often do.

-

The Rider doesn't even cross his arms, looking literally like a being who's focused on one thing all the bloody time. Instead, it listens to her without amusement when she displays that she, in fact, -does- have a sense of humor. No matter how non-existent in may appear to be. Regardless, he doesn't even move when she approaches. "It is." it speaks again. "Whether it's for the better remain to be seen." at her statements about ignoring one another, he growls. But eventually, he nods once. "You speak truth."

-

The witch, rather than seeming put out by the Rider's decided lack of humour, instead takes his stillness as an opportunity to study him. Not something many creatures manage to do this close, without being one step away from being on the receiving end of his Stare. She moves with that easy, serpentine grace, beginning to circle him, never touching, of course, but observing with that wild, manic gaze, "What do you see when you look at the world? When you look through those eyes, not the eyes of your…flesh." Philosophy now? Given the events the last time they met, likely not.

-

The Rider watches the Witch closely. He knows her kind. She circles him but he shows no signs of unease…I mean, would -you- show unease if you were practically invulnerable to physical harm and had a pretty okay magic resistance? But he knows he's being studied. When he's not looking through the eyes of Johnny Blaze? The Rider growls. "All I see is the screaming voices of thousands of innocents, begging for the crimes against them to be receiving of justice. I see many who have no knowledge of the mystic world. I see a plane that craves justice. I see beings whose Vengeance has gone unnoticed or ungiven." Straight to the point. "..I see a beautiful world, one worth defending."

-

The witch pauses, not quite behind the Rider, more about at and just to the back of his left shoulder. But rather than looking up at the creature beside her, she looks back out across the city, the glow of lights, the flicker of a fire somewhere off in the distance. Some warehouse being torched for the insurance money no doubt. Gotham is that sort of tawdry city. The rumble and hiss of a thousand, thousand voices, human and other than human, shouting their defiance to entropy "Why do you care, Rider?" And still, she only looks to the city, though her voice is genuinely curious. "Vengeance is your nature, you bring the taste of it on my tongue. But you could walk in any world you chose."

-

The Rider watches as the life of the city is still readily apparent. Even if they are in a rather obvious place such as the roof. But the Rider considers her words…especially since Gotham is a rather terrible place to live, all things considered. Highest crime rate in the world, even with vigilantes like the Batman around to try and cull them down. "I care…because justice must be served. For every son that loses their father over a sniper's bullet. For every mother who is killed in defense of their children. For every commoner under a tyrant, I am Vengeance. I am Justice. I care, because no one else will do what needs to be done." He says with a determination on his face. "Why do you care that I care? You, who's known through history as being selfish and manipulative."

-

Not a word goes unheard, the witch looking away from the Rider and back towards the city, finally stepping around the Rider to return to the edge of the roof. And indeed, the Enchantress takes no offense at hearing the judgment laid on her shoulders, seeming to take it with that same stoic mien that she accepts any judgment placed on her, for good (rarely) or ill (usually) "I am both of those things, and many worse besides. Those emotions which mortals think of as kind are not in me. It is not in my nature to be kind. One does not ask fire why it burns, nor water why it drowns. Anger, hunger, avarice, those things I understand. There are things in this world which I covet, and it suits me that I should stand in the way of the things which come. Those elder evils which seek to remake the world in their own image."

"An ally is no ally if you do not know their motivations."

-

So -that-'s what she was after. To seek an ally in her own battle against the dark tides that will no doubt be coming. "Darkness such as Lilith." The Rider speaks, before he growls. The Ghost Rider has a history of -always working alone-…but even the Spirits of Vengeance are limited thanks to the hosts in which they inhabit. But as the Enchantress seems to express her desire to work with him, he considers it. Given that she knows a great deal about the mystic plane, more than he does, and they would be excellent partners. With a soft sigh, the sigh itself exuding steam from the Rider's mouth, The Rider speaks.

"True…so that's what you seek? An alliance?"

-

"Lilith, I believe, is only a gatekeeper, though I think she fancies herself a greater power." Enchantress' voice is subtly derisive. As though she were speaking of some playground bully, and not the mother of demons. Which is perfectly Enchantress. "A taste of the things which are coming to this world. Which will come to this world if they are not stopped." The witch finally turns away from the roof edge, walking back, not towards the Rider, but towards his motorcycle, studying it as intently as she studied the Rider himself. "Yes. You have skills I do not, and I have powers you do not. We have prove effective in battle together." She takes in the bike, from one end to the other, before she speaks again, "It does not have an extra helmet." Well, it doesn't have a helmet to begin with, but…semantics.

-

"Hmph, true." Is all the Spirit of Vengeance has to say about Lilith. "She's a pawn, who uses weak creatures to do her bidding." The Ghost Rider does -NOT- like Lilith at all. But nonetheless, He knows that there are worse things still to come. Though The Rider turns his body to look at Enchantress especially as she checks out his ride, which he doesn't seem to mind much at all. Her comments perhaps attaining to humor. "No, it doesn't." He walks up to the motorcycle. "But it gets me where I need to be." Aside from The Ghost Rider having to resort to demon magic, which would cause it to use direct power from its core being. Something Johnny -definitely- doesn't want.

-

"Alas. For want of a helmet, I might have seen the world." Could you imagine that visual? At least, she looks away from the bike as its Rider returns to it. "She breeds creatures of her own flesh, but they are flawed as she is flawed. Their loss does not go unnoticed, I believe." Enchantress' eyes return to the Rider. "Your flesh body is a…friend to she whose body I possess. You and I will have to do a good many objectionable things." She doesn't elaborate, the implication being enough. "So, shall there be an alliance between us?"

-

"Maybe." Ghost Rider says in response to her wanting to see the world, but then she tells him about their hosts, and he nods. "I am aware. He cares more about her than she will likely ever know. His heart is large." Is all the Rider says on that, but he doesn't elaborate either. But alas…when she asks if there will be an alliance between them, The Rider simply sighs, and extends his hand to her for a hand shake. "Very well. We will be allies." The Rider knows there is an advantage to her, and she has an advantage to him. Far better that the work together than against each other.

-

At that maybe, Enchantress blinks out. And instantly back in again, this time with a very battered and careworn helmet under her arm. Quickly enough that there is no gap in their conversation, "We have little in common, she and I, save our gender. I ride easier within her of late." Though who's to say why that is. "Very well." And she accepts the hand, the grip firm, fever hot, and completely unflinching. As though there were worse things that she had touched in her life than a living skeleton.

-

The Rider noticed when she blinked out and returned with a helmet. Apparently they would be riding together. Not that he minded. He returns the shake firmly and with conviction before letting her hand go and turning heel to mount his motorcycle….but he goes nowhere. "Get on," is all he says. Though he figures the witch was already going to ride with him, since she got the helmet. "Though…was there anything else you wished to discuss?"

-

As Enchantress approached the bike, the look of her shifted, the way the sight of something might shimmer if one looked at it through water, or a heat haze. The Enchantress that came out of that distortion was not quite the one that had gone into it. This Enchantress was less the wild thing, and more the dark goddess. Gone was the matted hair and chain and jeweled costume. In its place was a darker, wilder version of June Moone. Black hair to June's blonde, dusky skin to June's light tan. Only the eyes were the same. And in place of the costume, a leather set of pants and jacket. She nearly looked normal. Which seemed all the more absurd, given that the Ghost Rider still looked…like a flaming skeleton.

Enchantress got on, sliding the helmet onto her head. "Not at the moment. I think we have said all we need to say for now."

-

The Rider noticed That Enchantress took on a form of June Moone, though still maintained her control. Either way, he looks forward, and in an instant the bike revs, exuding hellish flames behind it as he jets off the building! Soon enough they land on the street and drive away. "Very well." Though the Rider doesn't often have passengers, guess he'll have to get used to it now that he had a partner.

Ghost Rider and Enchantress. A new alliance against the darkness.

Has a nice ring to it.

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