Beyond Star City: IC Thread

[Lunaramblings]

As the troupe break from the bar Frank puts his medallion on. Still waiting nearby is the deputy. He nods to Liv and heads that way as Constantine moves to speak to the smokers.

As he reaches the two he detects the wariness that they eye him with.

"Hey. Listen, I owe you an apology. We didn't exactly want to advertise, but we are actually in the area on Justice Society business."

The tall slender brit looks at Frank with a cocked eyebrow and slowly shifts his gaze to Liv.

"Leftenant, do you still hold the belief these were costumes?" He again turns his gaze to Frank and looks deeply at the medallion on his neck. "That, sir, is no normal medallion. And you are no normal man. You are something far more interesting. And dangerous. I am familiar with a number of creatures of darkness, and while you share characteristics with certain Kindred spirits you are something else."

Frank looks stunned for a moment. Unsure what exactly to say.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Best People Righting Darkness. (Black Alice/Shrieve/Revenant)

Constantine moves to speak to the smokers.

Black Alice elbowed Frank Craft. "Look busy, the boss is coming."

She paused, squinted. "Or maybe he just wants a light."

Brooding, Shrieve hung back, lurking by the door to the bar. She could cover their six, but she knew for a fact that being the team's mouth should probably fall to the itty-bitty-titty zombie girl with the unscarred pixie face. Shrieve was fonder of letting her actions speak louder.

********​

The tall slender Brit looks at Frank with a cocked eyebrow and slowly shifts his gaze to Liv.

"Leftenant, do you still hold the belief these were costumes?"

"I coulda sworn that was a wig at first," Lieutenant Mills mused, indicating Liv's hair. "But I think there's a little more going on here than a touch of alopecia."

Liv's eyebrows climbed her forehead.

He again turns his gaze to Frank and looks deeply at the medallion on his neck. "That, sir, is no normal medallion. And you are no normal man. You are something far more interesting. And dangerous. I am familiar with a number of creatures of darkness, and while you share characteristics with certain Kindred spirits you are something else."

Frank looks stunned for a moment. Unsure what exactly to say.

As Frank hesitated, Liv's mind raced.

Was it so surprising that a town with such a rich history of mysticism had a consulting detective on call?

She held up her card, fiercely envisioning an image of her like her morgue lanyard superimposed onto a version of Danny's Justice Society ID.

"Well, while there's a contingent of Badass Normals such as yourselves in The Justice Society, some of us are, in fact superhuman, and passing for human is, well, an ongoing concern." She glanced at the medallion for emphasis, and quickly pocketed the psychic paper ID.

"I could probably stand to bust out the conditioner a little more often, come to think."

She ran her tongue over her teeth. And thought on her feet-- the number of people she'd been over the years, it was easier for her than most to slip into a new role.

"Not only are we with The Justice Society, we're a special black arts ops division called The Justice Society Dark. There are things going bump in Sleepy Hollow's night, and we were hoping to enlist your help in, to borrow a phrase, bumping back."

"Well," Mills grimaced. "We're sure as The Catacombs not going to let you run around unsupervised."

 

[Aussie_Wolf]

Danny stood next to Shrieve and looked at the goings on. It seemed Frank and Liv were having a little bit of a problem with the local law enforcement and from what he could overhear Their glamor was not going to hold up all that well against them. He had been right not to step out of the Pub just yet. Hell if they were having second thoughts about Liv who could almost pass for a Human on a good day, what the hell would they do if he walked out?

Looking at Shrieve he smiled. It was probably killing her to hang back like this. She was a girl of action. Kick ass first and if there was anyone left alive ask them the questions. He could relate. He had not worked in a group for awhile either, and when he had he was basically the muscle. No one seemed to remember that he had a brain and was a mechanical genius. No it was just Danny go smash this, or go fight this monster. Just once he would like to use his brain.

Sighing he grabbed his trident and prepared to walk out. ""So you ready to go scare some locals or what," he asked looking down at Shrieve. ""After all we haven't killed, blown up, maimed or injured anything in almost 12 hours. Isn't that against your religion or something?" he chuckled as he stepped outside and looked left and right and took in a deep breath.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Miranda Shrieve and The Case of The Boondock Boondoggle. (Shrieve)

Sighing he grabbed his trident and prepared to walk out. ""So you ready to go scare some locals or what," he asked looking down at Shrieve. ""After all we haven't killed, blown up, maimed or injured anything in almost 12 hours. Isn't that against your religion or something?" he chuckled as he stepped outside and looked left and right and took in a deep breath.

Shrieve arched a blonde eyebrow at the fella.

"I refuse to debate the finer points of Shrieve Family theology with you, Duke, even if you are wearing a pinker face than usual right now. But the whole thing with keeping the creepy-crawlies under-boot is so these 'locals' can live their silly little lives none the wiser that there's a whole neverwhere going on under their noses and their floorboards."

(Pink, blue, Cassidy's face was not unhandsome-- shut up--)

She swept her gaze back to Frankenstein and the pale little plague rat.

"So I'd prefer to not scare any mundanes unless it's necessary. But if it is necessary, I won't flinch from it."

She smiled faintly. Ever-so-faintly. And, speaking of religion, she quoted:

"'And shepherds we shall be.
For Thee, my Lord, for Thee.
Power hath descended forth from Thy hand.
That our feet may swiftly carry out Thy command.
So we shall flow a river forth to Thee.
And Teeming with souls shall it ever be.
In Nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.'"

 

[Aussie_Wolf]

Shrieve arched a blonde eyebrow at the fella.

"I refuse to debate the finer points of Shrieve Family theology with you, Duke, even if you are wearing a pinker face than usual right now. But the whole thing with keeping the creepy-crawlies under-boot is so these 'locals' can live their silly little lives none the wiser that there's a whole neverwhere going on under their noses and their floorboards."

Danny smiled. So she was getting anxious as well and wanted to be out smashing heads instead of sitting here with their thumbs up their asses. Still what she said was true. They did the hard work so that the Norm's never even dreamed that all those stories they heard about in fairy tales and even the things they prayed to were actually real. If they did ...?

"So I'd prefer to not scare any mundanes unless it's necessary. But if it is necessary, I won't flinch from it."

She smiled faintly. Ever-so-faintly. And, speaking of religion, she quoted:

"'And shepherds we shall be.
For Thee, my Lord, for Thee.
Power hath descended forth from Thy hand.
That our feet may swiftly carry out Thy command.
So we shall flow a river forth to Thee.
And Teeming with souls shall it ever be.
In Nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.'"

As she started to quote Danny grimaced and stuck his fingers in his ears and turned away, half hunched over, but it didn't help. Dammit had the woman forgotten what he was or was she being cruel on purpose. He actually figured it was the former but that didn't help him any.

The more she spoke the worse the pain got but he could handle it then she spoke the last line. His mind filled in the blank at the end of course, how could it not, but by now his body was smoking and the glamor was starting to flicker around the edges as he flashed between his old self and his new body.

Anyone looking would be amazed to see a 6 foot decently muscled guy hunched over, with what appeared to be smoke rising from his upper body, suddenly flicker and in his place was a 7 foot heavily muscled blue demon. Of course it only lasted a brief second before he was once again his usual self but it happened a few times so he just hoped no one looked his way.

Finally the pain subsided and he was able to stand back up and give Shrieve a glare. "Quoting His words next to a demon Shrieve. Why I may appreciate them being a good Cath... ahh boy and all," he stumbled as a small bite of pain hit him again, "Do you mind not speaking them when I am in earshot unless it is absolutely necessary. You might end up actually letting in the mortals on our secret if you do," he grimaced as the last of the smoke slowly drifted away into the night.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Miranda's right to remain silent. (Shrieve)

Finally the pain subsided and he was able to stand back up and give Shrieve a glare. "Quoting His words next to a demon Shrieve. Why I may appreciate them being a good Cath... ahh boy and all," he stumbled as a small bite of pain hit him again, "Do you mind not speaking them when I am in earshot unless it is absolutely necessary. You might end up actually letting in the mortals on our secret if you do," he grimaced as the last of the smoke slowly drifted away into the night.

Shrieve snorted at him. Well, unrepentantly, because of course she was.

(She had prayed next to him on purpose. Kind of like a schoolboy pulling on the pigtails of a girl he liked, or putting a tack on her chair, because he was getting all these feelings and because schoolboys are jerks and how else would they respond to feelings? Shrieve really really liked Duke, had no idea how to process that, so she gave him a twinge or two.

Not that she'd confess to any of this.

Instead, more teasing.)

"Gee, Duke, I didn't realize Boondock Saints was in the Biblical canon."

"I mean, that 'river of souls' thing is vaguely St. Dumas, and the last line is straight up Vulgate, that could chafe your ass a bit. But the rest of it is all Hollywood. Shouldn't you know that?"

"It's rumored that Lucifer himself once claimed that Hell only had power over its sinners because they themselves believed they belonged there. If they truly believed that their sins had been paid for by their torment, they could get up and walk out. Apparently one reason Luci bailed on Perdition was to prove that no-one could force him to stay, not even The Almighty."

She reached up and poked him in the forehead, right in the third eye, would have been right between his horns if he hadn't been glamoured.

"So maybe. You need to cowboy up. Because maybe. This wussy gag reflex? Is all. In your head."

 

[Aussie_Wolf]

Shrieve snorted at him. Well, unrepentantly, because of course she was.

(She had prayed next to him on purpose. Kind of like a schoolboy pulling on the pigtails of a girl he liked, or putting a tack on her chair, because he was getting all these feelings and because schoolboys are jerks and how else would they respond to feelings? Shrieve really really liked Duke, had no idea how to process that, so she gave him a twinge or two.

Not that she'd confess to any of this.

Instead, more teasing.)

"Gee, Duke, I didn't realize Boondock Saints was in the Biblical canon."

"I mean, that 'river of souls' thing is vaguely St. Dumas, and the last line is straight up Vulgate, that could chafe your ass a bit. But the rest of it is all Hollywood. Shouldn't you know that?"

"It's rumored that Lucifer himself once claimed that Hell only had power over its sinners because they themselves believed they belonged there. If they truly believed that their sins had been paid for by their torment, they could get up and walk out. Apparently one reason Luci bailed on Perdition was to prove that no-one could force him to stay, not even The Almighty."

She reached up and poked him in the forehead, right in the third eye, would have been right between his horns if he hadn't been glamoured.

"So maybe. You need to cowboy up. Because maybe. This wussy gag reflex? Is all. In your head."

Danny smiled at her and poked her right back, forgetting for a second that his finger was about twice the size of hers.

"Well old Lucy might be right about the sinners, in fact I really think he is on to something there, but it is an entirely different thing with the creatures that have been banished there by the almighty himself," He half yelled at her then winced again muttering," Fucckk" under his breath.

"As for the old Boondock Saints reference having the power to cause me pain, just how many people do you think have watched that movie or have heard that quote and truly believe that it is a passage from the bible? 1 million, 2 million, 10? So what gives the bible and it's words it's power over us minions of hell? After all their just words on a page usually written by a few holy men, not by him."

He looked at Shrieve and cocked an eyebrow to see if she had any idea. Smiling he pointed at his head and heart.

"It's all about faith. If enough people believe it is so then it is. Just like those sinners believe they are stuck in hell, all those people believing that that verse is actually a holy verse from the bible has made it so. Well to us anyway. You should remember that Blondy," he told her his face cracking into a huge smile. "I can just see you reciting that as you blow some demons head off and send it screaming back into the void."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Previously on "Star City" and "Beyond."

Years ago.
Early 2016.
San Francisco, California.
********​

It was early Saturday evening and a farmer's market was in full swing on one of those steeply-inclined San Francisco backstreets.

They were in town for a conference, the first of its kind-- a conference for police detectives and their consultants, a meeting of minds for law enforcement methodologies both conventional and unconventional.

"You know, I've been to my share of conventions," Cisco mused, examining a brochure studiously as he walked, with a lollipop lodged in his cheek, "and they always seem to skimp on the Sunday schedule. Like, they assume everyone's bailing at that point, so they just phone it in. Not these guys. Look, here's a panel held by two local detectives comparing and contrasting styles-- one's got OCD and the other claims to be a psychic, the whole thing's moderated by some guy named 'Bruton Gaster'-- that looks like it'll be a hoot."

Detective Joe West chuckled with his deep, deep baritone laugh. "If you say so, Cisco. It just seems a little bit too much like a set-up for one of those episodes where all these detectives are gathered in one place and someone gets murdered, and all the detectives have to detect which detective is the murderer."

"Don't knock those episodes," Cisco instructed Joe firmly, plucking the lollipop from his lips and wagging it at Joe like a lecturing finger. "One of my favorite episodes of Leverage used that bit. I'm still not sure why Timothy Hutton wasn't dressed up as Archie Goodwin from Nero Wolfe, but--"

Nearby, Bartholomew Henry Allen walked with his hands in his pockets, half-smiling wearily, shoulders hunched, so very zoned out, and he just sort of chuckled to himself lost in thought wherever he was.

Joe and Cisco shared a worried look, and Joe reached out with his oak-branch of an arm and patted Barry on the shoulder. "Bar'. You okay? You've barely said two words since you got back from England. Was Ravenscar that bad?"

Barry chuckled faintly, shook his head, shrugged, rubbed his palms together fidgetingly. "Not the worst. Slightly less demonic possessions than advertised, and my room-mate was cool. It was way better than Arkham, that's for sure. They helped me a lot. Got my head on straight. I don't blame myself for... for The Flashpoint anymore. Not... not as much."

Joe smiled faintly at him, and hugged one arm around his shoulders gently, firmly, paternally. "Damn right. It was Zolomon that tried to turn Central City into a radioactive ash tray. No way was that your fault."

"Tchyeah," Cisco snorted. "I've been meaning to ask. When you were in England... did it look like Vancouver?"

Joe and Barry both shot Cisco bemused expressions.

Cisco shrugged. "Look, you guys. You've never noticed that no matter where we go, it just looks kind of like Vancouver through different filters? Star City? Vancouver. Seattle? Vancouver."

Joe and Barry both paused at that, as though they were processing that information and were surprised they hadn't noticed before.

"I've been to Gotham," Joe pointed out. "It looked like New York."

Barry nodded, rubbed his palms together. "Yeah, and National City looks like L.A., and L.A. looks like L.A., I've run through there a bunch of times bringing pizza from Coast City back to Central."

Cisco tutted. "Nah, see, those are just exceptions that prove the rule. Coast City? Looks like Vancouver. Central City? Vancouver."

"I've never gotten that," Joe squinted. "How can an exception prove a rule?"

"Yeah," Barry grinned, stopping briefly by a fruit stand and checking out a basket of red apples. "Is there a rule somewhere that says that rules have to be proven by exceptions, and if so, is there an exception to that rule?"

"You're trying to distract me," Cisco snorted, "but I will not be deterred, good sirs. This is a bonafide conspiracy theory in the making, here. It's like that thing from The Matrix where everything tastes like chicken because our virtual reality overlords couldn't quite figure out what chicken was supposed to taste like, so they made chicken super generic or something--"

Barry paused and stared and blinked. "So you're saying. That Vancouver. Is The Matrix?"

"There is no spoon, y'all," Cisco insisted, "and we are getting black cat deja vu every time The Powers That Be break out the edit function--"

Barry busted up laughing, and held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Oh, man. Okay. The Fastest Man Alive can out-think any supercomputer, and even I don't have enough brainpower to deal with you right now. This is way too much weirdness from our weird weird lives, we're here to chillax. You're just here to talk shop with some of the best Q Branch guys on The West Coast, I'm just here to compare notes with some of my fellow CSIs and Sherlock Scanners and pick up some new... techniques..."

...he trailed off.

He was staring.

At a woman.

Short, petite, adorable, with pale hair and equally pale skin, walking beside a formidable-looking black guy with a leather jacket and a turtleneck before pausing to haggle with a cart-owner whose wares consisted of an assortment of peppers. Her cellphone rang, and she answered it, and her companion stood with his hands on his hips looking... out of place.

Joe paused. "Is it weird that I'm still relieved when he's looking that way at anyone besides my little girl?"

"Hey," Cisco smacked Joe lightly in the chest with the back of his hand. "Iris and Barry are endgame, you know that, I know that, everyone knows that except them. Still, nothing wrong with our boy taking a couple of detours. And this one... seems nice."

He moved forward a bit, leaned in next to Barry. "Not bad, man. She got a whole 'Queen of The Undead' thing goin' on. What's the play?"

Barry didn't answer immediately. He just summoned up his courage and strode forward.

Cisco's eyes widened and he pressed a knuckle into his own mouth, making a nervous keening noise.

"It's okay," Joe encouraged him, "sometimes baby bird's gotta leave the nest without his wingman."

"Honestly, Liv, San Francisco," Ravi grumbled over the phone. "Need I remind you, I never did get to go on that tour with Peyton. The furthest I've gotten to travel for work is--" he paused for effect before concluding, with revulsion-- "Tacoma."

"I promise," Liv assured him, examining a green bell pepper before shaking her head and setting it down, "you'll get to go to the next one! I'm a mortician and a psychic detective, remember? The best of both consultant worlds."

"Yeah, yeah," Ravi grumbled. "See if I take you along the next time I go to SDCC. Right, I've got lab rats to clone, enjoy rubbing elbows with Nathan Fillion and Angela Lansbury."

"Look, I'll try to find some Vertigo-related souvenirs, okay?" Liv tried to mollify him. "Do they have a comic based on the movie? Best of both those worlds?"

Ravi paused. "Vertigo comics? That sounds awesome, but sadly, I don't think so. I appreciate the thought though, Liv. Safe journey, yeah? Make sure you eat before you fly back, finish off the rest of that organ-donor cooler I prepped you, I don't think they do in-flight meals for your special diet."

"Pinky swear," Liv chortled. "Talk to you later."

As she hung up, her companion, Detective Clive Babineaux, arched an eyebrow. "Dr. Chakrabarti still have his chakras in a bunch?"

Liv grinned softly, pocketing her phone. "If there's ever a murder over in Redmond at Nintendo headquarters, you should make sure he gets first dibs."

"No promises," Clive harrumphed.

It was right about that moment that Barry Allen walked up to the pepper cart, selected a tiny scarlet specimen, paid the lady running the cart, and held up the pepper to Liv.

Clive turned, squinted at Barry. "Excuse me, can we help you?"

Barry grinned nervously but determinedly, kept his gaze locked on Liv. "You're gonna go out on a date with me. And I'm going to prove it to you. This is a Naga jolokia, or the... ghost pepper. It is the world's hottest pepper, measuring 401.5 times hotter than Tabasco sauce. If you do not agree to go on a date with me, I will eat it. Right here, right now."

Liv stared at him for a moment.

Then reached out-- so unexpectedly that even The Flash's reflexes were caught by surprise --plucked the pepper from his hand, and took a huge bite out of it, essentially downing it in a single crunch. She chewed it almost thoughtfully, nodding as she went, and then swallowed it.

"Yeah, that's not bad, Scoville Scale approved. Put a few more of those in a bowl and we'll call it a salad."

Barry looked even more thunderstruck in that moment than he had when he'd been zapped with actual lightning.

Clive grinned his ass off, clapped Barry on the upper arm, shook his head. "You came to the wrong neighborhood, son."

"Yes," Barry mumbled, astonished that his pepper-date technique had gone so horribly wrong, even wronger than if he'd eaten it in front of her and puked, "I see that now."

Liv grinned softly, consolingly. "You are ridiculously cute, and I give you points for the most original pick-up maneuver I've ever received, but I'm not really in the market right now." She paused. "Okay, I'm in a farmer's market right now, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah," Barry smiled faintly, disappointedly, but good-naturedly. "I know what you mean."

As Liv and Clive moved on, Barry shuffled back over to Joe and Cisco looking amused but dejected, and both men did the slow clap as he approached.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Barry shook his head.

Cisco punched him lightly in the chest. "No, c'mon, seriously, you did good. Baby bird crashed and burned, but any landing you walk away from. It's okay, man, we are single and we are go for mingle. Tonight, listen to me, tonight, we are gonna find some dance clubs around here, do a pub crawl, Karaoke night, c'mon, man, you and Joe'll score us so many honeys with your golden pipes. We are gonna tear. It. Up."

Joe squinted at Cisco dubiously. "Cisco, you're gonna get drunk in your hotel room and on-demand Hot Tub High School again."

Cisco didn't even look at Joe as he held up that lollipop again, sternly instructive. "Joseph, do not even be saying that to me like it's a bad thing."

And then it was his turn to stop.

And stare.

At a girl.

Because right next to them was a ridiculously handsome dark-haired man in a black suit and a white shirt and no tie, lighting up a cigarette despite the dirty looks from passerby, and right next to him was a slender, world-weary, beautiful woman with piercing eyes.

"Lucifer," the woman griped, "you know these people are health nuts. They flip out if you use the letters 'GMO' in their presence, and you're going to exhale nicotine at them?"

Lucifer sneered. "Oh, believe me, I know the value of picking and choosing the fruit you eat, I've just generally chosen to ignore it. You're all going to die of something, luvvies, don't kid yourselves."

Cisco's hand shot out and he grabbed Barry's upper arm. His eyes had never been wider.

"Cisco," Barry hesitated.

Glanced down at his arm.

Tried again: "Cisco."

Cisco blinked, half-aware that he'd heard his name. "Yeah, Bar'."

"You're vibrating," Barry winced. "If I were anyone else but, you know, me, I think you might have vibed my arm out of its socket."

"Oh, geeze!" Cisco flinched, letting go of Barry's arm in a hurry, shaking out his hand with the pulses coming off of his fingers. "Sorry, man. It's just... do you know who that is?"

Barry looked at Joe, Joe shrugged, Barry glanced at Cisco. "Not a clue."

The dark-haired gentleman however, had noticed this conversation, and regarded Cisco with an arched eyebrow. "Detective Decker, it seems as though you have an admirer."

Decker sighed miserably, rubbed her temples. "Please don't make a massive scene like you always do. Please don't make a massive scene like you always do. Please don't make a massive scene like you always do."

But he was already grinning, holding his cigarette low by his side as he towered over Cisco, his intense gaze burrowing into the younger man. "Like what you see, do you, eh? Think maybe you can be the one to score with your teenage pin-up goddess? Eh? Let's see what she thinks of your perverted little desires, see how that improves your chances... come on then, out with it, what's your most darkest, twisted desire... what would you do with this woman if you had her?"

Barry and Joe narrowed their gazes at this offensive stranger, what The Hell was he trying to pull?

"Lucifer," Decker groaned, hand covering her eyes. "Jesus Christ."

"Lucifer" jerked around to face her again, irritated to no end: "Oi, don't bring Him into this, He nicked my title of Morningstar, Father's only Son my arse--"

"Season 2 of Firefly," Cisco blurted.

Lucifer blinked. "Steady on. What?"

"Season 2 of Firefly," Cisco admitted, a little more sheepishly. "That's... that's my deepest desire."

Lucifer shook his head, took a drag off of his smoke and blew it back out between his lips in a dismal, chiaroscuro sigh. "Honestly. This generation astounds me. Obsessing over fictions? And I thought wars over religion were pointless. Look, young fellow-me-lad, they should have known what they were getting into when they pitched a sci-fi/fantasy genre program to FOX of all networks..."

Cisco would have had a vicious, nerd-rage retort to this, but then all of a sudden people started yelling and pointing at the sky.

And a beautiful flying woman descended, crimson hair billowing around her emerald eyes and her golden flesh. A lot of golden flesh.

She landed in front of Liv, smiling a beaming, angelic smile. And spoke in a language that was like nothing of this Earth: "Παρακαλώ επιτρέψτε μου να σας φιλήσω. Πρέπει να μιλήσω."

Liv took a half-step back, eyes wide, but didn't run. Clive reached behind himself, not sure whether to draw his gun or not in this crowded street.

And the woman stepped forward, cupped Liv's face in her golden hands, and kissed her, long and deep.

Liv wasn't gay, as such. But she'd eaten straight-guy brains often enough, and the occasional lesbian, so she remembered what it was like to like women. And this was... this was one Hell of a woman.

And with mingled surprise, bewilderment, and delight, she mumbled a muffled whimper into the golden woman's mouth.

Cisco stopped and stared, and made a very similar noise, and Barry made a startled cough, shaking his head slowly.

Lucifer tutted. "Oh, I don't need to be a Jedi to know what you two're thinking. Honestly, it's San Franbloodycisco, is anyone really surprised?"

Then Barry and Cisco paused, looked each other, and nodded as if in realization. "Ohhhhhkay."

Cisco punched Barry in the arm. "So that's why she turned your a-game down."

Then the golden woman drew back from Liv, looking puzzled. "La fel de bun ca și mort să-i sărute."

Liv shivered for a moment, and then came back to her senses. And frowned at the golden woman. "...did you just speak mean-girl Romanian?"

The golden woman frowned back, stepped forward, and kissed Liv again, more gently this time, Liv reaching up gently to graze the golden woman's shoulder with her pale fingertips.

This time, when she drew back, the golden woman spoke in English. "Sorry. This planet has so many languages! I did not know it would take me two tries to learn the right one."

"Did you just mind-meld me with a kiss to pick up a new language?" Liv blinked. "Who are you?"

"I am Koriand'r, of the planet Tamaran," she explained. "And I must find the superheroes, the ones you call 'The Young Justice.'" She paused, squinted, tried again. "Sorry. This new language, the etymology is absurdly amalgamated. I mean to say, they are 'Teen Titans.'"

"The ones who fought that big demon guy in the bay last year?" Liv hesitated, then pointed out towards the water, towards Alcatraz. "Big tower on a little island, looks like a 'T,' you can't miss it. Wait, do you know what a 'T' looks like, did you get the alphabet with that last kiss?"

Koriand'r nodded brightly, her eyes glowing green. "Yes. I know the alphanumeric you describe. Gratitude!"

She levitated off of the ground, her impossibly red hair billowing once more in the backdraft of her flight, turning to soar off towards San Francisco Bay.

"Wait!" Liv called to her, and she stopped, turning in mid-air as she hovered to blink back down at Olivia Moore.

"Are you a superhero?"

Koriand'r paused to consider this. "I am simply 'Koriand'r.' I do not have the second special name common to that ilk."

Liv squinted for a moment. Remembered... one of her earliest cases. Investigating the Blue Cobras. A nickname Ravi had suggested. "Have you considered... 'Starfire?'"

Koriand'r brightened, which was saying something considering she was practically incandescent already. "Yes! Starfire! I like it! Thank you, friend!"

Then she wheeled about once more and blasted off towards the sea.

The crowd murmured, mumbling, disbelieving, incredulous.

Cisco nodded to himself. "'Starfire.' That's pretty good."

"Cisco," Barry sighed heavily, again with the weirdness. "I think I need to go get drunk. And that... is gonna take a lot of alcohol."

"My man!" Cisco exulted, and fistbumped him.

Joe put his hat on, shook his head resignedly. "Guess who's stuck being the designated driver. Again."

Meanwhile, Clive pursed his lips, staring very bemusedly at Dr. Moore.

"Always the buttery skin with you. I think you got a type."

If it were possible for a zombie, Liv might have blushed. "Oh, don't start." She took a breath, and felt a serious quantity of tension ratcheting her spine. "Is it okay if we bail on the conference's last day? I'm suddenly all extroverted out."

Clive nodded wryly, examined his phone. "Yeah. You wanna bump our flight up to tonight, catch the red-eye?"

Liv squinted. "Please don't ever use the term 'red-eye' around me."

Clive arched his intense eyebrows. "Duly noted."

Satisfied that the show was over and that nothing else ridiculous was going to happen, the crowd had been going back to their fruits and veggies and milling about.

But through the middle of that crowd came a pair of people, one of them looking zealously determined-- the other looking alarmed but carefully controlled.

Director Hank Henshaw. And Agent Alex Danvers. DEO.

Alex touched her ear.

"Director, AWACS says we were too late, they're tracking her airborne moving west-- fast. Supergirl fast."

"Damn," Henshaw snarled. "No, no, we are not losing this one. Not like we lost The Martian. Again. Get me a chopper!"

"I still say The Martian's not the threat you insist he is," Alex frowned.

Hank growled so deep it practically rattled the cobblestones. "Chopper. Now."

As Lucifer put out his cigarette with the sole of his shoe, Decker stood there reading the brochure. "Hey, here's something fun for tomorrow. There's this professor from Oxford presenting a studious approach to cases involving the paranormal. You could expose him as a fraud like that auctioneer with your 'wings' a few weeks ago."

"Sounds drolly diverting," Lucifer mused. "What's his name?"

"Ichabod Crane," Chloe enunciated. "Representing the Westchester Sheriff's Department and the town of... Sleepy Hollow."

"'Ichabod Crane,'" Lucifer muttered. "Well there's a charlatan's pseudonym if ever I've heard one."

Chloe snorted. "This from a guy who insists he was christened with the name 'Lucifer Morningstar.'"

Then she looked up, and found Cisco Ramon standing beside her, looking nervous as all Hell. "Okay, come on, kid. I get it, you had a Farrah Fawcett moment with my hot tub scene when you were in puberty, that doesn't mean I'm going to give you my number."

Cisco winced. "No, um. It's not like that. Well, I wouldn't-- say no to your number-- it's just--"

"--your mom. Penelope Decker. Could you tell her I'm a big fan? Do... do you have her number?"

Lucifer looked like he was going to explode laughing.

Detective Chloe Decker just looked like she was going to explode.

 

[ChasNicollette]

She prefers cannons to canon anyway.

Danny smiled at her and poked her right back, forgetting for a second that his finger was about twice the size of hers.

Shrieve pointedly did not, did not did not did not, then promptly think about how if his finger was that size...

...nope nope nope.

"Well old Lucy might be right about the sinners, in fact I really think he is on to something there, but it is an entirely different thing with the creatures that have been banished there by the almighty himself," He half yelled at her then winced again muttering," Fucckk" under his breath.

...and then she smirked at that. A little aftershock of her prank.

"As for the old Boondock Saints reference having the power to cause me pain, just how many people do you think have watched that movie or have heard that quote and truly believe that it is a passage from the bible? 1 million, 2 million, 10? So what gives the bible and it's words it's power over us minions of hell? After all their just words on a page usually written by a few holy men, not by him."

He looked at Shrieve and cocked an eyebrow to see if she had any idea. Smiling he pointed at his head and heart.

Shrieve frowned, then. All this time, she had thought that The Word of God had power to sway demons because that power had been invested by The Lord Himself. Some manner of divine inspiration weaving its thread throughout the canonical works. That the various councils of elders who had picked and chosen the books of The Bible for canon had done so based on some discernment of that divinity.

But what if there was more to it than that?

...Vox Populi...

"It's all about faith. If enough people believe it is so then it is. Just like those sinners believe they are stuck in hell, all those people believing that that verse is actually a holy verse from the bible has made it so. Well to us anyway. You should remember that Blondy," he told her his face cracking into a huge smile. "I can just see you reciting that as you blow some demons head off and send it screaming back into the void."

She arched an eyebrow.

And she grinned a slow, intent, intense grin at that mental image.

"Okay. Yes, that's pretty sweet. Play your cards right and I'll even warn you to plug your ears before I rattle it off and double-tap one of your wayward brethren in the back of the skull."