LOOTING DC #48. The Spider's Web 3
The tension in the Oblivion Bar had drained like steam off a spell circle. Murmurs had resumed and music bubbled back up from some unseen source - a smoky blend of harp and trumpet now. It made Jake think of moonlit rooftops and bad decisions.
He let his senses take it all in now. The atmosphere was dense with incense and heat, but not unpleasant. The warm, magical lighting pulsed gently, reacting faintly to movement. He caught glimpses of drinks being poured: glowing blues, smokey reds, one that hissed as it passed through a crystal funnel.
Characters filled the space like a crowd from a dream. He noticed even more strange creatures than he thought DC could offer - a moss-covered warlock, werewolves, and more. DC was far more richer than shown in the meager media he'd consumed.
Jake's wandering eyes lingered a second too long on the succubi - the elegant, sharp-featured women in the most provocative wear imaginable. One caught him looking and smiled, slow and knowing.
A heat bloomed behind his ears.
"Don't," Raven said, tugging his shoulder firmly.
Jake snapped his head around.
"Oh," he muttered. "Was that...?"
"Pheromones," Raven said, deadpan. "You don't want to get mixed up with those. Trust me."
She didn't wait for a response. "Come on. Let's find a place to sit."
Jake gestured to the counter where Constantine had already drained half his bottle and was charming an angry looking witch.
Raven shook her head. "We're better off waiting for him to quench his thirst first."
Jake started, "Then where are we-" but stopped as the wall she was leading him toward began to ripple. What looked like solid wood peeled itself away, folding in on invisible seams. In its place, a low table and two wooden stools emerged, framed by soft lantern light.
Jake blinked. "Okay. That's... new."
"Magical, isn't it?" Raven said, already sliding into one side.
He took the other seat. "I definitely didn't expect the wall to move."
"The Oblivion Bar is built that way," Raven explained. "It's an infinite space. It adjusts to fit its patrons. No matter how full it looks, it'll always have room. And never more than it needs."
Jake tilted his head. "So, you've been here before?"
Raven paused, eyes flickering toward the ceiling.
"Not exactly. I've read about it. Heard about it. But never visited."
"Why not?"
"The policies," she said. "This place is sacred to magic. Everyone's allowed - demon, sorcerer, creature, god. The only rule is no conflict. Break that rule, and you get sent to Oblivion itself."
Jake frowned. "Sounds strict."
"It is. But not always enforceable. Some beings are too powerful - even for the bar. If one of them starts something, the bar can't stop them. Only endure them."
Jake nodded slowly. "Trigon."
"Exactly," Raven said. Her voice softened. "This place is full of magic. I couldn't risk him taking control and wreaking havoc."
Jake met her eyes, saw the tired understanding beneath them. He smiled gently. "Well, it's a good thing he's not your burden anymore."
Raven looked down, her fingers tracing the edge of her cloak.
"It feels like a weight's gone. But I can't rest. Not while there's even a chance he could return."
Jake went quiet. The idea hung in the air, heavy and obvious.
He shifted tone with effort. "So... Bobo letting me stay - was that because he thought I might be some kind of demon lord?"
He grinned.
"Ha. Demon lord?" a voice chuckled beside them.
Jake turned.
A woman appeared from behind him and stood casually by their table. Her uniform looked like a waitress's, but only barely - a white half-buttoned shirt tucked into soft gray pants, a nametag that read Thirteen in silver letters. Short white-blonde hair framed a sharp face. Her eyes were a piercing violet, half amusement, half analysis.
Jake narrowed his eyes. "Did I say something funny?"
Raven's posture shifted - calm but alert.
"Sorry," the woman said, straightening and tensing slightly. "Didn't mean to offend you."
Jake smirked. "I'm messing with you."
"Good,"she said, seeming to relax. "Because if you were that powerful, Bobo might be forced to use the Sword of Night again."
Jake blinked, confused.
"Let's just say, no one likes the ending to that story," she explained, mischievously glancing around the bar.
"I'm the Spider, by the way," Jake introduced himself.
He hesitated, glancing at Raven.
"And this is my..."
He faltered. Friend? Accomplice? Empathic battle-sister?
"Raven," the woman said smoothly, nodding to her. "I know who she is."
Jake glanced at Raven. She didn't react.
"Cool," he said, awkward.
Thirteen smiled.
"I'm Thirteen," she said simply, nodding at her tag. "Only waitress in this broke bar."
She planted a hand lightly on the table. "I'm here to take your order."
Right on cue, Jake's stomach growled - long, low, and completely out of his control.
He tensed. Tried to act like nothing happened. Failed.
Raven looked away, expression unreadable. Jake felt the heat rise under his mask.
Thirteen raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.
"A hungry customer," she said, sounding far too delighted. "My favorite kind."
From inside her apron, Thirteen pulled out a worn leather-bound menu and slid it across the table toward Jake. She flipped it open to a blank page.
"This menu reveals the meal you crave most," Thirteen said, her voice low, almost ritual. "Crafted by Lucifer himself during one of his quieter visits, it's said to never miss its mark."
Ink crawled to the surface like it had just remembered its purpose.
A single dish formed. An illustrated mess in color: a steaming bowl of broth tangled with noodles, chunks of grilled meat, crispy chicken wings, strips of steak, and a chaotic pile of golden fries stacked like a crown on top.
Thirteen tilted her head at it.
"Wow," she said. "I've seen trolls order some weird fusions, but this... this is new."
Jake rubbed the back of his neck. "Blame the devil?"
"Don't worry," Thirteen said with a grin. "It's nothing our chefs can't handle. Might charge you extra for the chaos tax, though."
"It's on the house, remember?" Jake affirmed.
"Right," she nodded. "Will have to deal with Bobo for that."
She turned the menu toward Raven.
Nothing appeared.
Blank.
No flicker. No suggestion. Not even a flickering shadow of a meal.
Thirteen stared at it. "Huh. I've heard you don't show desire, but I didn't know it extended to food."
Jake frowned. "That can't be right. Everybody wants something. You've got to crave something."
"I'm good," Raven said flatly.
Thirteen didn't argue. She tapped the page once. "The menu doesn't lie. That's how she feels."
Jake sat with that a moment, watching the blank parchment, then watching Raven.
She kept her gaze forward, distant.
Thirteen closed the menu and turned to go.
"Wait," Jake said, rising slightly in his seat. "I know what she wants."
Thirteen paused. Eyebrow raised.
Jake gestured her close.
She leaned in. He cupped a hand and whispered a few words into her ear.
Her eyes widened. Then narrowed. She looked at Raven, lips curling in a sly smile.
"Oh," she said. "That... we can do."
Then she walked off, apron swaying behind her, vanishing between two patrons like the crowd itself made room.
Raven stared at Jake now, one eyebrow slightly raised.
"What did you say?"
Jake shrugged, mask hiding most of his face. "I promise it's something you won't turn down."
Her eyes lingered on him a second longer, searching. Reading.
She didn't ask again.
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Gotham always felt colder at night.
Artemis adjusted her stance on the rooftop ledge, arms folded tight across her chest. The wind whipped past, tugging at her ponytail and chilling the tips of her fingers, but she didn't move. She just kept staring down into the alleyway below, waiting and watching.
He'd show up.
She wasn't sure how she knew. They hadn't agreed on a spot. Not even a time. Just a vague "I'll see you tomorrow." But somehow... she believed him. Deep down, she knew he'd come.
That was the stupidest part of all this.
Holding onto some reckless trust for a guy she barely knew. A guy she once tried to kill. A guy who still cracked jokes like none of it mattered. Who had no right to make her feel the way she did when he made her feel like she mattered.
Her partner on this stakeout wasn't feeling very zealous, however.
"It's almost midnight," Cassie said quietly from behind her, shifting on the ledge. "Are you sure he didn't just stand us up?"
Artemis didn't answer at first. She couldn't. Because for a second, she felt a sting of doubt.
Still... her voice was firm. "He'll show."
She lowered her gaze. "I know he will," she added, this time just for herself.
Cassie didn't push. She'd heard the story. The Spider standing up for the good in Artemis. Saving Lian. He sounded like a stubbornly good guy.
But she'd learned the truth the hard way: even the good guys change.
Suddenly, the air behind them started changing; charged with electricity.
Both girls turned as a jagged portal sliced open in the rooftop air - swirling red and crimson.
"Spider?" Artemis's heart's jump escaped in the form of a whisper. A hopeful smile broke free.
Then froze.
The first foot stepped through. Familiar combat boots.
Then the build. Finally, the mask.
Her stomach dropped.
"Hello, daughter," Sportsmaster said, stepping out with that same, grating smugness.
Her body locked. Her fists clenched. She struggled to catch a breath.
Klarion appeared next, grinning madly, followed by Teekl.
Cassie's voice cracked the silence. "Klarion!"
Her lasso was already drawn.
Artemis didn't move.
Because this - whatever this was - reeked of something worse than a fight.
It reeked of finality.
She swallowed.
Now wouldn't be a bad time for the Spider to show up.
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