The Home Of Mr. and Mrs. Napier, Gotham City, A Little While Later...
"Oh Jack, don't ever scare me like that again!"
Jeannie Napier hasn't let go of her husband since we arrived back at the small apartment the two share together. It's bigger than my own, though not by much, but more importantly, unlike the glorified hovel I run my business out of, it's clear that two people, however modest their means might be, have tried to turn it into a home, and mostly succeeded at it. It's clean and cared for, with none of the obvious despair and squalor of my own building, and while the furniture is clearly second-hand, there's not too much wear and tear on anything.
Basically, it's a home rather than just a place to sleep. Still, the neighborhood isn't that much better than the slums, so I can see why Jack so badly wanted the funds to get someplace better for them, especially with a baby on the way. And unfortunately, while I've at least managed to avoid an outright disaster for both of them, even if they'll never know it, their money issues haven't really changed either.
"I'm... I'm sorry, Jeannie..." Jack says as he leads his wife over to one of the chairs by the kitchen table, helping her sit down "I never wanted you to worry, I... I guess I just got desperate. The whole job seemed so easy, and I..." He laughs to himself helplessly "God, I can't believe how stupid I am! I fell for their whole sales pitch, hook, line and sinker, like the biggest sucker on the planet! You should have heard that rat bastard spilling the beans about the whole thing back at the factory, I can't believe I bought into that! God, what was I thinking?!"
"I wouldn't worry, Mr. Napier, people have done way worse for way less, desperation can make the sanest man do the dumbest things" I place the Red Hood helmet in the middle of the table, and Jack visibly cringes at the sight of it. He's still wearing the tuxedo part of the costume, though he basically threw the helmet and the cape at me once we were done calling the police from a payphone a few streets away from Ace Chemicals. Jeannie stares at the polished, red metal, clearly not liking it anymore than her husband does.
"They made you wear that awful thing? How did you even see out of it, there's no eyeholes!"
"There's a pair of red one-way mirror lenses in it, though I wouldn't call it seeing" Jack shudders "I could barely see through the red tint anyway, and everything is dulled inside, your breath fogs up the lenses, can't breathe, can't hear, it was like wearing a damn cooking pot on my head!"
"You know, there actually was a superhero like that!" The Napiers look up at my remark "You never heard of her? Red Tornado, back in the 40's?"
My response is a pair of blank stares.
"I mean, she did cut actual eyeholes in the pot, but still, that's nuts. Really, no one? Honorary member of the Justice Society? I swear, I'm not making it up! It was in their biography and everything!"
Further blank stares. I clear my throat awkwardly.
"Sorry, things have been a bit tense today, but probably not the best time to try and raise the mood."
Jack just shakes his head and chuckles "Honestly, I think I kinda needed to hear that there was someone else out there making worse life decisions than me at some point. Considering the kinds of things I saw you do tonight, I'll probably believe anything you tell me anyway."
Jeannie takes her husbands hand in hers, looking up at him curiously "What kind of things?"
Jack looks back at her, hesistance showing on his face, which I'm guessing is from wondering just exactly what to tell his wife what he saw "...I've honestly never seen anything like it before, Jeannie. I mean, I've seen that Superman fellow on the news, of course, and we learned about the first Green Lantern and The Flash in school, but..." he shakes his head "It's TV and books, you know? It doesn't feel real, somehow, even if you know it actually happened. This, I saw with my own two eyes. For one thing, Mr. Flagg here ripped a chain in half with his bare hands!"
Jeannie's eyes widen and she looks at me incredulously. I'm not a small man by any means, but I definetly don't have the kind of physique you'd expect for someone who can rip apart steel, like a certain someone over in Metropolis. I simply shrug. "Magically enchanced strength. It has it's uses."
"I didn't think..." She pauses "I know when we first met, you told me you were a magician but, it just seemed... well..."
"No, I get it, pretty much everyone else has had the same reaction, your husband included. The only people I've met in Gotham who didn't assume I was pulling some kind of scam, or just some lunatic looking for attention, were people who already knew magic is an actual thing. The types of people who practice magic don't tend to advertise it."
Both the Napiers seem a little uneasy at the idea. Metahumans are one thing, they're not a common sight by any means, but even with the lull of superheroes during the post-war years, they never went away completely, and people with minor superhuman abilities, the kind that didn't make it worth the effort to pull on tights and fight crime with them, never stopped showing up. Magic, however, has never had any sort of public acceptance in this world, at least not judging from any of the books or documents I've found during my research. It makes a certain amount of sense, magic users tend to be secretive by nature, and it's easier to assume that the ones acting in public are just superhuman rather than drawing on something that for almost everyone else is just the stuff of fairy tales or fantasy. The average person will believe a man can fly, but for some reason, they're reluctant to beliveve he can do that because of a magic ritual rather than being sent to Earth from a dying alien world.
To be fair, the only spell I know for actual personal flight and not just teleportation or a flying broom involves literal child sacrifice, and if I could find a way to forget that knowledge without lobotomizing myself, I'd take it.
"I mean, I've heard about some of those old superheroes..." Jack says, hesitantly "But I always just assumed it was just a gimmick, you know? So you're telling me, those guys from the Justice Society, Zatara, and the guy... you know, the one with the helmet..?"
"Doctor Fate, and yes, they were both the real deal. Not saying that every person who claims to be a wizard or a fortune teller or whatever is the genuine article, there's still more scam artists out there than genuine practitioners, but my point is, magic IS real, it's just a reality that most people prefer to ignore."
Jack pulls up another chair, sitting down next to his wife "So, you're a wizard-"
"Magician!"
"-Magician? And you're... using your magic to, what, run a detective agency?"
"Eh, no, not exactly" I shake my head "Private investigators require a license, and while actual training isn't strictly necessary, it's probably preferable. My thing is... well, it's like opening up a lemonade stand in comparison... except my abilities let me cheat quite a bit."
"I thought superheroes didn't get paid?"
"As a general rule, they don't, most of them have day jobs in their civilian identities, but I'm not a superhero, I'm just a guy with powers trying to use them to pay the bills... which they're not really doing yet, but hey, gotta start somewhere, right?" And then, something occurs to me "How about a practical demonstration? May I see your wedding rings, please?"
The Napiers seem surprised at first, but after looking at eachother for a moment, they slide the gold rings from their fingers, Jack struggling for a second with his, before holding them out towards me. I reach out, holding my hand open, and they drop the rings on the palm of my hand. I stare down at the two rings, focusing on the golden surface, the glare from the kitchen light against the metal surface, and call upon the words...
"Fire Will Not Burn!"
"Water Will Not Drown!"
"Poisons Will Not Sicken!"
"Blades Will Not Cut!"
"Protection!"
Right in front of the Napiers eyes, the rings begin to glow, as tiny, almost unreadable runes begin to carve themselves across the golden surface, shining with unearthly light, before fading away just as quickly. I let out a breath, placing both rings down on the table in front of their owners. "There, that should just about do it!"
"What-what did you just do?" Jack says, staring at the ring in front of him like it's about to explode.
"A protection spell, as long as you wear your rings, they will now protect you from almost any injury. I have a similar spell protecting me, though it's cast on my skin rather than a specific item. Just a heads up though, there IS a treshold of damage the spell can't handle, so try to avoid getting hit by artillery fire. You know, if that ever comes up. Oh, and it doesn't work on radiation, either. I have no idea why."
"Really? That seems... arbitrary." Jack says, having finally gained the courage to pick his ring back up, running his thumb along the outer surface, as if he's trying to feel the now missing runes. Jeannie, seeing her husband having taken the ring back with no ill effect, follows his example, staring at the ring with a combination wariness and awe.
"Yeah, welcome to magic."
...
Meanwhile, A Few Streets Away From Ace Chemicals...
"Yeah, it's me. The Ace hit was a bust. Someone tried to beat us to it."
The man by the payphone pressed closer against the wall, pulling his hat down to shield his face as yet another police car drove past, sirens blaring as it headed towards the factory looming in the distance. The parking lot was a flurry of activity, despite the late hour, several other cars already waiting there, alongside an ambulance. Even from this distance, the man could see the uniformed figures wandering around, picking over the scene for anything they might previously have overlooked.
"I don't know who, some small time outfit I think, but whoever they were, they fucked it up. The cops nabbed one of them, no idea what happened to him, but he was lying unconscious at the back door when they found him."
He pulled back, grimacing at the screeching voice on the other end of the line "I told you, I don't KNOW what happened! Maybe the Bat got to him, he seems to be everywhere lately! Look, just tell the boss-"
More screeching. God, working for the Falcones was getting really old, really fast. He didn't know if the old man was just going senile, or if the pressure was finally getting to him, but the guy was unraveling like a cheap sweater. Maybe Carmine Falcone was so used to being the de-facto king of Gotham, watching it slip between his fingers thanks to an annoyingly idealistic D.A, Gothams only honest cop, and some weirdo in a bat costume was probably more than the old bastard could handle. Times like this made a guy start thinking about the future. Nobody would say it out loud, not if they valued their kneecaps, but the writing was on the wall; Gotham was changing, and the mob wasn't keeping up. Maybe it was time for a change-
That's when it caught his eye.
He wasn't even listening to the voice on the phone anymore, as his attention was drawn to the small object sticking out from the side of the payphones protective case. It looked like... a card of some kind. A playing card, maybe? He reached over, tugging it lose, and held it up to the light from the street lamp...
"Huh. Weird."
It was a card, but not a playing card. At least not from any kind of deck he'd ever seen. It had a drawing of a man dressed in garish, colorful clothes and a cap with a feather in it. He had a bindle on a stick over one shoulder, like a hobo from an old cartoon, and was staring up at the sky, completely unaware that he was about to walk blindly off the side of a cliff. And beneath the drawing were two words...
THE FOOL
And though he wasn't sure why, the man known to his friends as Jack ("It's Jack. Just Jack") slipped the strange card into his coat pocket, barely even aware that he was doing it, as he returned his attention back to the voice on the phone. Just as quickly, he forgot the card was even there.
Yes sir, seemed like it was time for something new...