Closed Starter : @fitzjxmes
It was not made to hunt men.
It had not always been twisted into the shape of a bear. There had been a time before, when it had been cradled close and had life breathed into it by a mother it would never know again.
It was not made to hunt men.
It had been made to wage a war that had ended before anything held the shape and breath of humanity. Its defeat had brought it to the form it occupied now and the space that it was trapped within. It felt the draw to go back to the water, to slip down into the depth and seek out the one who first breathed it to life with fang and claw... but it was bound now. There were claims made to it, spears that were invisible to the eyes of even those who had crafted them sunk deep into its flesh and preventing it from going down into the deep.
Sometimes, it would act like the bear it had been shaped into -- grabbing hold of the seals and squealing beluga that emerged from the depths of the water like grasping fingers. Eating them did not sate its hunger, nor its need to get back to the one that created it. Even if they, too, had been shaped by her.
The people who called the North home, who carved echoes of its form into the bone amulets they carried, knew it for the shape of death that it was. They avoided the lands that it walked on. There was no need to go there, to walk where the ice snapped throughout the night and sang its name. There were few left in the world who knew how to talk to it in that language of silence and cold. Those that could, could walk alongside it. They understood it to be another aspect of their world. That it could give just as easily as it could take.
These men lacked any understanding of the world they found themselves in and so they had unknowingly called it to them. Initially, it had watched. Their ships were a forest, different trees pulled down and shaped around them -- masts standing like the tallest of them. Metal had been pulled from the Earth and bent to their will. Coal burned in the bellies of the things, pushing them forward through the ice until it finally closed its fist around them. It watched them move back and forth between their ships and the gravel shore, dark figures silhouetted against the snow.
It followed them, whenever they slipped through the fingers of the ice. There was the possibility they would not remain, that they would move on from this place. It stood with the people that bound it beyond the confines of its shape, kept it from delving further into the world of spirits, and watched. It watched. It waited.
It smelled the blood of death and heard the indignity of the man they pushed down into the ice as if his life had been as meaningless as the death they gave him. Every touch upon his body had felt like a touch upon its own, a pull at the invisible barb under its skin that bound it to the man.
Now, it was following them as they abandoned their ships. It was not alone as it wandered in spirit in their wake. Death and madness stalked beside it, though the men were just as oblivious to their inevitability as they were to it. They spoke to the men in the spaces between their thoughts, making themselves known in languages that every living thing understood. They were coming. They were inevitable. One just didn't know when and where.
The men were setting up a camp for themselves when it again shaped its name around itself and settled into the skin that walked the same world they did. It stretched itself within that skin, neck extending up towards the sky as it closed its eyes. It felt good, to stretch muscle and bone beneath that skin.
Back in its skin, it breathed in the cold air and let out a sound like the ice cracking against itself. There was a small group of men, stood aside from the others, that were closest to it as it pushed itself up onto its legs.
It was not a beast. It was not a man, either... but it could walk like them.
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I just really like the trope of Danny getting summoned, alright?
——
After he shoved Pariah Dark in his coffin shaped locker what what Danny hoped to be for all of eternity, the half unfortunately inherited all of Pariah’s responsibilities.
“What was it again? With great powers comes great responsibilities?” Danny let his head hit the table with an audible thunk. He’s in his “office,” the ghost zone’s approximation of where he might be able to do work seriously. The house- the extension of his haunt- had added the room right next to his bedroom. Danny had to lift all of the paperwork from Pariah’s castle (that’s now also a part of what’s considered Danny’s but he doesn’t think about that) and move it to his main haunt.
He prayed to the universe at large to let him off. Danny hated doing homework- science not withstanding because at least he understood that- let alone an asshole’s centuries worth of work. Danny bemoaned the fact that he was elected the King. He didn’t even defeat Pariah all by himself, so why couldn’t the others do it?!
Like a wave of merciful fate, the beginning tugs of a summoning pulled at his core.
“Thank Ancients!”
Danny scrambled to grab a sticky note, unfortunately glowing green as things tended to in the Ghost Zone, and scribbled down that he’s been summoned and to not look for him until his vacation work was done.
With that note done, Danny decided to bring his A game to the summoning. Allowing his secondary form to wash over him, Danny quickly checked the mirror to make sure he was presentable. A bright glowing ice crown- not the crown of fire, because it was essentially useless without the ring and Danny wasn’t keen on being a king, let alone a near infinitely powerful one- settled across his brow showed his status. A cape, this form’s best feature, made of an expanse of galaxies, nebulae, and frost cling at the end was swept over his shoulders and pinned together with a cloak pin made of clusters of black holes.
A couple of additions to his normal hazmat suit and his trusty thermos at his side, Danny all but dove into the summoning magic with an excited whoop of glee.
As Danny got closer to the magic-made portal, he could hear the whispers of the living presences beyond it.
His summoners! Hopefully it’s not a cult again, even if he thought they were pretty funny trying to summon the king of the dead to kill more people. Not funny “haha,” funny weird.
How should he do this…? Scary? Funny? Oh! Or maybe he should ditch the crown!
Danny grinned, waving his hand to dispel the crown of ice. It was nice, but he was in a dungeon critter mood today.
“Oh, this is going to be gooood.”
Danny cracked his knuckles and put on the most dead-inside-and-outside expression he could manage, modeling it off of the Nasty Burger workers during closing shift. The halfa stepped through the portal.
——
“The ritual is completed! You will all face the might of Pariah Dark, the eternal king of the dead!” The villain of the week cackled as his cult cheered. Wonder Woman, scuffed and injured from the magical bolts these magic users had shot at her earlier, grimaced and raised her sword.
“We will defeat Pariah Dark,” she proclaimed. Her allies rallied at her proclamation and readied themselves for another fight. “This world will not bow to the likes of you!”
“We are all but mere ants before the king of the dead! Pariah Dark will bring forth the reckoning this shitty world deserves!”
“Actually, Pariah Dark’s kind of busy, so you’re gonna have to leave a message.”
Green Arrow’s arrow jerked towards the new voice. Batman paused, hand holding batarangs at the ready. He, out of all of them, knew better than to underestimate a young voice.
A gloved hand shoved through the green portal, using the edges like a door frame to heave itself through. A humanoid shape, with sharp ears all but crawled out of the Lazarus green portal. Batman wondered if this was what Jason saw when he came back to life.
"Lord Pariah Dark is busy?!"
The figure- a boyish not-human- heaved a sigh. "Do you people seriously think that the High King of the Infinite Realms isn't swamped with work?"
"And who are you supposed to be? His secretary?" Hal asked, Ring glowing and at the ready. Wonder Woman tensed and mentally struck Hal away from the list of people to consider for diplomatic missions.
"Me? I'm a glorified paper pusher." The being turned back to the cultists, his cape containing the universe swished behind him. "Did you have a message for Pariah Dark?"
"He was meant to rain down death and destruction!"
"Okay, first of all, I feel like you guys are missing a really important point." The being pointed at the cult leader. “It’s not called the King of the Dead for no reason, you know. Death comes for everyone eventually. Also, I have to do a seriously giant amount of paperwork every time one of you fruitloops gets the bright idea to cause an influx of deaths.”
Danny stomped across the circle, grabbed the collar of the cultist leader’s cloak and yanked him down. He shook him. “Do you people have any idea how annoying it is?! Huh?! Do you know how long the A-354 Form is?! Stop trying to get Pariah to kill people! I’m sick of the paperwork, dammit!”
"How- how did you get out of the circle?!"
The cultists and the heroes squared up, ready to fight the possible common enemy: Danny.
Danny is having the best time of his half life. Screw kingly dignity, Danny’s gotta de-stress somehow! He had a whole bag of complaints!
"You wrote the circle wrong, idiots! Ancients, are you people even literate? What even are those scribbles?" Danny kept shaking the cultist. Wow, what an amazing stress ball!
“Uh- hey, he looks kind of sick…” The Flash said, trying to be a good hero and mediate before escalating. Danny snarled and Flash held up his hands, gulping in fear as Danny’s eyes narrowed at him. “Did I… do something?”
“You,” Danny hissed. “You mother- fruitloop! Stop screwing with the timeline, you giant red-! Do you know how annoying it is to readjust the death count every time one of you little merry red jesters takes a jaunt through time and space?! Do you even know how many complaints I had to field?! Oh, boy you’re all going to regret summoning me today, because I’ve had a long time to think about what I’d do to everyone who made me work overtime!”
Danny bared his teeth, eyes sparkling with mirth as he froze the cultists.
"We're not letting you take over the world," Hawk-Woman said, raising her mace that pulsed with electricity.
Danny snorted to hide his wince. "I'm not interested. Just let me punch him once. Just once." Danny pointed at the Flash.
"Honestly, I can't even blame you," Black Canary muttered, fists raised.
"Wha-! Canary! That's so rude! You traitor!"
"Shouldn't have put skittles in my shoes then. Those hurt, Flash."
"Enough." Everyone shut up at the sound of Batman's command. "What do you mean they wrote the circle wrong."
Danny, who was watching the byplay with interest, shrugged. "They wanted to summon the Ghost King, right? We've had a... change of leaders recently."
"Who is the leader now?"
Danny waggled a finger at Batman. "Nuh-uh. I'm gonna collect my over-time compensation, which is punching the Flash, and then we can negotiate for information."
"Flash."
"I don't want to get punched, Bats!"
"The alternative is that I let the current Ghost King have a go at you."
"Flash."
"Oh my god, just get punched, Barry!" Danny heard Green Lantern Hal Jordan whisper.
"Ugh, fine. No one video this."
Immediately, three phones go up to record the Flash getting decked by a teenage looking ghost. Danny floated closer and wound his fist back, letting loose some of the ghost strength he normally keeps restrained. "This is for my overtime and for Clockwork, you jerk."
The halfa slammed his fist straight into the Flash's face, knocking him clear into the air. Superman catches him but Danny no longer paid attention to the Flash, petty vengeance enacted.
"Honestly, I don't have a problem with you as a person. You're kind of cool. Break the timeline again in the next three months, though, and you're on my shit-list."
"What do you want in exchange for information?"
Danny hummed. "Depending on the level of information, and I reserve the right to not answer any questions. For the name of the current Ghost King..."
He did want that new gaming console. And Jazz could use some help with her rent.
"I want $5,000 and a plate of really good spaghetti."
"I have cash."
Danny nodded at the Dark Knight. "You just carry $5,000 in cash on you? Who does that?"
"I like to be prepared."
"And he's rich," Superman chimed in.
The Flash reappeared with a plate of spaghetti from an Italian place he teleported to. "Here you go. Fresh, and pleasedon'tscrewwithmyafterlife."
Danny shoveled the spaghetti into his mouth, jaw unhinging like a particularly disturbing snake right before he dumped the whole thing- plate and all- down his throat. "Thanks! The food didn't even try to kill me this time! You're good."
"Does your food try to kill you all of the time?!" The Flash- Barry, apparently- asked.
Danny nodded as he took the cash from Batman's gloved hands. "Totally. It sucks."
"Identity." Batman demanded.
"Oh, yeah. The current ghost king is me."
"...What."
"You have been swindled. Bamboozled. Outwitted and outsmarted," Danny snickered, shoving the bundle of cash in his chest. "But seriously, I'm the king. We got rid of Pariah a while ago."
The crown of ice materialized.
"You said you were a glorified paper pusher!" Hawk-Woman chortled.
"I am! I'm pushing so many papers across my desk, it's unending, I swear!"
Batman growled. "You tricked us."
Danny smirked, "You got tricked." Red Robin, in the corner, snorted quietly. "Anyways, if you've got more interesting things around here, I'll considering busying myself with that instead of sentencing you to an afterlife of paperwork."
The adults straightened, grimacing. "Beast Boy is green," Hal offered up.
"Hey!" Beast Boy shouted, offended at the easy way Hal offered him up. He turned to Danny. "But have you ever seen a green chinchilla? Super cute. Watch!"
"Woah!" Danny clapped. Yes, he'll hang out with them before dragging himself back.
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