Shard

Young Justice

Location
💀 Communications Complex.

Interactions
💀 The Team.

Mentions
💀 A few people.

---

Contrary to popular belief, Casper enjoyed fashionable escapades. Upon learning of this mission, his typical attire found itself altered to reflect the chilling touch of winter. White cloth hugged the boy’s scrawny, slender shape, offering sight of a ghostly entity blending into a snowy field. This would, however, contrast greatly with the dark nature of his powers, black energies clashing with Hex’s white attire. He did not mind this transgression, and would admit its contribution.

Spectral spheres turned towards Daphne, Casper’s thoughts traveling to their upcoming assignment. Would Viktor be able to lead a team so diverse in strengths, weaknesses, and utility? Despite Casper’s chalk-white nature, and his newly procured attire, the boy would radiate an aura of blackness in protection from the sun. It would allow for an easy spot, but yet again, he was reminded of the attention paid. There had not been enough.

The question then arose. Why did the boy not argue the decision? A black aura in a field of white was hard to miss, but was this mission executed during the comforting embrace of night, problems were null and void. However, if sunlight was required, the issue persisted, and yet, Casper did not waste a moment bringing this up. Did he not care? Was he fed up? Perhaps the more reasonable assumption was allowing others, mainly Talon, to learn from his mistakes. Duke Murdock was correct in offered statements, and while Hex refrained from giving his father the satisfaction of attention, agreement reluctantly lingered.

”I ought to remain a distance from you, it would allow for more vantage points.” With the scenario playing out the way it did, Casper was not willing to allow Talon’s decisions to endanger the lives of his comrades by placing a dark beacon next to them.

“Don’t forget about me! I can scout real good!” The spirit pitched in. It was true. Coal possessed flight, and would be considered nothing more than an ordinary crow, or raven, considering his size. The avian had donned this roll on several occasions, and was comfortable continuing tradition.

”It falls in the hands of our leader,” clawed digits motioned towards Viktor. Upon their initial meeting, Casper pinned Viktor for a good leader, someone with a sturdy spine and vigilant stance. However, he had come to see the young man as brash, moody, and rough. Aspects well suited a warlord, and less so a commander. It was an unfair display, however, judging his teammates following a mere two weeks of lacking interaction.

Casper had only himself to blame, in that regard. The boy was growing exceedingly less patient with Zachary’s antics, Alisa remained alien to him, the actual alien, Aleen’a, radiated enough ultra-violet light to warrant respectable distance, and Casper had yet to interact with Felix, in the slightest. Talon’s shell was something Hex could not be bothered with, currently, as he was maintaining what people called ‘bigger fish’, mainly his father’s presence. In a way, this team’s insecurities, character quirks, and challenges were stringing along an obnoxious development as a result of Casper’s strained patience with his father.

The boy was known for his relaxed, reserved, and harmonic mannerisms, something he did not want to jeopardize. However, Duke Murdock’s appearance would have managed just that, if Casper spent any notable time with many within the Young Justice League.

Where others may have noticed how Hex grew more distant within the past two weeks, he appeared keen on spending time with Daphne. In truth, he could relax in the presence of this girl. Her positive nature separated itself from Casper’s own issues, and his friendship with her steadily grew. There was a desire to protect, and a wish to socialize entwining into what Hex and Coal would consider stable companionship. Despite the bird’s distaste for emotional movies.

Their mission was starting in an hour, plenty of time to mentally prepare for what was to come. Their first mission, the first stage where mistakes could very well force lasting consequences. Casper was not keen on shepherding any of his allies to the afterlife just yet, and deigned to proceed with care. Hopefully, hiccups and obstacles were kept to a minimum.

Young Justice

Location
💀 Communications Complex.

Interactions
💀 The Team.

Mentions
💀 Daphne.
💀 Talon.
💀 Rain.

---

Two weeks of training, two weeks of team building, two weeks of him. Casper could narrow down the moments of that man’s presence, each one less appreciated than the next. Though Hex had maintained composure, expressing little more than an otherwise regal, if apathetic exterior, frustration had certainly been building. With arms crossed, the boy leaned against a nearby wall, his spectral eyes fixed on each teammate. Their first mission, and for some, an introduction into this most dangerous profession. “Ah, the quiet one has been put in charge,” a voice echoed, a tune Casper had grown reluctantly used to. “And Batman himself, is it? I always did wonder how that man conducted himself,” Duke Murdock Blackwood, or rather his projection uttered, the tall man standing at Casper’s side.

Had anyone been cursed with the ability to gaze into Hex’s mind and witness his father, questions would surely rise. The Duke was an intimidating fellow, tall and daunting. His extravagant suit denoted aristocracy, an expression of authority exposed arrogance, and yet, he did not seem to mind the one-sided interaction bestowed upon his son. Duke Murdock had come to accept that Casper wasn’t eager to offer words in turn. “Let’s hope they don’t all perish in the frozen wastes,” the spectral image continued, a hand rising to rub at his chin. “But issuing you reconnaissance? Dear me, that boy doesn’t understand your powers at all.”

A brow rose as Casper’s attention turned towards his father, silence lingering. It was true that those present did not comprehend the nature of Hex’s abilities. Death Magic was complicated, and short of Zach, no current member of the Young Justice League had spent any notable time studying magic. Zachary Zatara himself was still quite new to the life. Truthfully, however, Casper preferred this. He did not desire such knowledge for his teammates. Casper’s magic was, in a word, disturbing. Death, the afterlife, decay, and ghostly grace, none of which spoke of a colorful approach. The atrocities committed by Necromancy were gruesome to say the least, and Casper had actively attempted to maintain a certain aspect of the dark art, refraining from interacting with flesh and bone.

He was unsure of what to expect on this mission surrounded by snow and rime, but it would certainly reveal everyone’s strengths, and mayhaps their weaknesses. “And the grumpy one is your commander? Sweet Casper, I do not envy your position.” A final statement, before the entity vanished, leaving Hex and the yet quiet Coal to their own devices. With sharp teeth clenched, Casper retired his attention to the floor. Did he agree with these compositions? Talon’s statements revealed one thing; that despite these two weeks, an understanding of everyone’s positions was lacking. Though, it was fair to say that Hex would not have managed it better, himself. The last two weeks had been quite distracting. Between attendance at college, his father’s sporadic appearances, and training, there was little time to establish a connection with anyone else.

Despite this, he recalled being gifted a ribbon by Daphne, a sweet gesture indeed. In the same vein, however, Hex was deigned to return the bracelet he had procured for her. It revealed a somewhat tone-deaf position. Casper had bought a girl something that, in this world of economically challenged individuals, would make her a target. He had not considered that outcome. Perhaps, going forward, he ought to contemplate the price before a purchase. Others were not quite as indifferent towards it as he was.

With those spectral orbs gazing upon the flowery young woman, Casper’s thoughts turned towards the mission. Was she ready for this? Plans were notorious for malfunctioning, and Rain’s opinion of the girl had presented itself, albeit vaguely. If he was to command their half of the team, how would he conduct himself? Would he be able to keep everyone organized? Perhaps. Would he be able to keep everyone calm? Of that, Casper was unsure. The boy himself was no leader, and he dreaded the day when others found themselves relying on his instructions.

”It’s acceptable,” Hex responded, clawed digits gently tapping his arm from their crossed position.

Young Justice

Location
💀 Shopping Spree.
💀 Charleston Music Center.

Interactions
💀 No One.

Mentions
💀 Kila.
💀 Kassandra.
💀 Daphne.
💀 Talon.

---

Charleston Music Center was Casper’s next destination, sights of various instruments coming into play upon stepping past the threshold. Guitars, drums, and violins, Hex’s focus brushed past many examples of otherwise well-made tools, his gaze finding home upon a grand piano. It reclaimed memories, the boy’s thoughts traveling to great halls within castle Blackwood where sleepless nights allowed for a moment’s respite among ivory keys. It had been a while since Casper last slept, since he needed to retire to a world of slumber.

The store was quite large, allowing for a moment’s consideration before Casper was eventually spotted by a clerk, soon followed by a short welcome. Though eyes lingered upon the Wraith, Hex paid them no mind, his focus firmly confiscated by an instrument of his childhood. Delicately, claws traced themselves across polished mahogany, a golden brown lid opened to reveal the inner workings of a masterpiece. Casper had been told that his love for this most noble of instruments sprung from the boy’s grandfather, a man whose fingers had christened the piano Hex now called his own. He longed for those moments spent alongside the apparatus filling castle Blackwood with haunting tunes.

“Give it a go,” Coal nudged his friend forward, “Kassandra and Kila’s over there, I am sure they’d appreciate some music, yeah?” The bird continued, motioning towards Casper’s acquaintances. It was rare for the young man to play for others, each keynote typically aimed at himself. He played for relaxation, he played to express himself, and yet, Casper rarely did so when others were present. The Wraith was aware that two sides often overlapped, one’s innermost grace revealing itself for others to see. Hex was not an exception. “Express yourself.”

”Express myself..,” Hex repeated, spectral spheres rising to meet Kassandra and Kila. They appeared to be enjoying each other’s company, and it was a reminder that teammates were slowly finding their friends. Had Casper reached that connection, yet? Not quite, but thoughts of Daphne sprung to mind, clawed digits gently reaching for the small package in Hex’s pocket. He cared for the girl, reasons appearing somewhat unknown. A young woman brimming with life. Perhaps the nymph would manage to break through Talon’s exterior and exhume the person hiding within. Casper had witnessed the two leaving together, and she was most certainly an interesting foil to the rehabilitated assassin.

”Yes..,” came a quiet affirmation from the Wraithborn. Lowering himself to the stool in front of a piano most would struggle to afford, Casper’s clawed fingers rose to keys of ivory white. Closing his eyes, a faint, if barely visible smile traced itself across the boy’s pale, white lips. No matter the country, the location, or the world, music remained the same. Music never changed. An eternal force piercing life and death alike. It was following these thoughts that Casper realized he had already started playing, fingers moving from one key to the next in a fluid motion answering to nothing but emotions from within.

One would be accurate in claiming that the surrounding world had vanished, Casper’s heart and mind set on the instrument before him. A tail slowly swayed in harmony, Coal’s shape lingering upon Hex’s shoulder as beady eyes gazed down at the claws conjuring forth music with every motion.

Had Casper opened his eyes, he would surely have witnessed a growing audience, silence surrounding him as ears closely listened to the boy’s song. He had created a stage albeit bereft of platform, the Wraith’s memories spiriting him to the halls of castle Blackwood where he would play this very tune, one taught to him by a mother so often mentioned. It had been the first time in months since Hex last took a moment to peer inside himself using a piano as his vessel. Between each key there was silence, nothing but music paving the way across a dreamscape within Casper’s being.

It was an escape of sorts, one expressing itself externally as opposed to meditation. Feelings manifesting. It was only upon the song’s eventual completion that Casper finally opened his eyes, the surrounding store yet again materializing, people encircling the boy where he sat. Though a sense of embarrassment initially gripped the Wraith, Hex soon found himself managing another slight smile at the sound of hands clapping together. He could hear applause.

Young Justice

Location
💀 Shopping Spree.

Interactions
💀 No One.

Mentions
💀 Daphne.
💀 Talon.

---

The concept of metahumans and even aliens was deeply rooted in the minds of modern-day people. Heroes, villains, and artists far divorced from humanity had made a name for themselves recognized and echoed across the world. Yet, it was not unexpected by Casper Blackwood to find himself in the center of attention. Eyes diverted towards the Wraithborn wherever he found himself, a shopping mall buzzing with life. Initially, the young man would have deigned to retreat in anxious dismissal. However, there was a sense of self-esteem so clearly present within him, Hex’s attention finding home on an elaborate storefront.

Thinking back on their first moments of training, placing himself in front of Black Canary once more, conjured a sense of satisfaction. Though uncertain, he had confronted his most glaring weakness and did so with a measure of success. He had done well. Equally so, Casper was not a teenager suffering from the ever-so-typical weight of social fright. He was a reserved boy by every measure, but one who spoke his mind when so inclined. Confidence; he knew it well. “We’re popular,” Coal commented, his small, beady black orbs taking in the glares of countless eyes.

With a tail calmly swaying, Casper tore his attention from the storefront, ‘Elsa’s Designs’, and allowed himself a moment to acknowledge those present. There was a sensation building from within, a truth the boy could not deny. A sensation soon accompanied by his reflection as it stared back at him from polished glass walls separating ‘Elsa’s Designs’ from the mall hallways.

Freak. Monster. Horror.

A brief pause halted the boy’s stride, his spectral gaze lingering upon the image presented by flawless translucence. A hand rose, claws gently tracing themselves down Casper’s tie, his tail moving from right to left. Careful inspection would reveal an expression upon the Wraithborn’s face, claws rising further to tenderly comb a path across Coal’s silken feathers. ”May they enjoy the view,” Casper offered, playfully scratching Coal beneath the beak, ”I certainly do.”

Freak. Monster. Horror. Yes, Casper would not deny his many titles, each one closely embraced. He was a freak, a unique being setting itself apart from others, standing tall and proud. He was a monster, teeth like a shark’s and claws akin to a dragon. He was a horror, brilliantly glowing in the deepest blackness, eyes of impossible white swirling within empty voids. He was the reflection staring back at him, and it was perfect.

“Look at you,” the avian laughed, extending a wing before nudging Hex’s cheek. “Owning that terrifying smile.”

Unable to prevent the expression from widening upon his lips, Casper lowered his attention to the floor. ”Every other smile is taken,” he stated, ”this one is mine.” Falling silent, Hex’s joyous display mellowed into tenderness, his feet bringing him closer to the jewelry store.

It had been a therapeutic scene, one laying bare a teenager’s worst fears, and certainly, the wings outstretched in their place. It had never truly bothered Casper when considered scary, nor did it offend him. However, it kept him firmly positioned within a fortress of solitude. The notion warranted a locked door, one opening only in response to recent actions, Hex’s attempts at finding himself. What was the purpose of a withdrawn approach? Where had it placed him? At the very end of this journey, there was only one constant, himself and Coal. It would always be him and Coal. Everything else was temporary, victims of time and mortality. This realization made sure to add perspective, a statement extended by his mother.

’Appreciate what you have in the moment.’

There was nothing to be afraid of. Life presented fleeting beauty, no matter what visage it may have worn, and the temporary nature of its bloom was what allowed for such splendor. ”I will procure Daphne a gift,” Casper stated, stepping into the store he had picked for this endeavor.

“Oh, yeah? Whatcha’ gonna’ get?” Coal asked, “and will you get Stone Face one, too?”

Stone Face. Talon. The thought of this particular young man froze Casper to the spot, if only for a moment. He had refused to shake Hex’s hand when extended, which was spectacularly disrespectful. Try as he may, Casper’s nature as a Wraithborn was still a new existence, and he was slowly shedding the remains of what it meant to be a human noble. Talon was different. He didn’t understand the social conventions considered a norm in Hex’s upbringing. Despite this, Casper had been adequately insulted. ”I.., may locate something for Talon, as well.”

“Good day, Sir,” came a warm welcome by a shop clerk freshly encouraged to greet her new customer, and the odd sight of a bird upon his shoulder. Her new, unique patron. “What are we looking for, today?” It was clear that her attempts at maintaining eye contact were strained, those phantasmal spheres unnerving, to say the least. However, Casper commended the young woman, her approach warranting a soft bow of his head.

”Good day,” the Wraithborn spoke, ”I’d like a gift for my acquaintance. Something..,” he paused, considering what Daphne would enjoy. She did seem to present a more typical feminine presence, ”..bright and emerald green.”

His description had left much to be desired, but the store clerk understood enough to guide Casper towards memorable bracelets. Gold, silver, and steel melded together, the boy’s clawed fingers staying clear of a particular material. However, his attention was drawn towards an accessory resting beneath the glass counter, red velvet harboring its shape. A slender trinket of gold and green, glimmering beneath constant light. ”I believe this will suffice,” came a decision before Casper’s obsidian digits were allowed to hold the bracelet.

“It’s a beautiful piece,” the clerk responded, sounding somewhat unsure. The price tag may have been a reason for this. Despite Casper’s unique appearance, he was clearly a young man no older than twenty. Though she didn’t wish to offend a customer by assuming his worth, the woman found it reasonable to elaborate on what Hex was holding. “Twenty-four-karat gold, and real emeralds.”

Raising a brow, Casper moved his attention towards the clerk. It took a moment for him to fully grasp what she was saying, initially assuming a joke. Of course, this was pure gold, and naturally, those emeralds were real. Why on earth wouldn’t they be? Because not everyone was rich, and to others, this purchase made an actual difference in their lives. ”That’ll do, thank you,” Hex mused, offering the woman a faint smile.

Staring at her customer for a brief spell, Elsa whose name tag exposed her ownership of the store cleared her throat. “Of course!” She exclaimed, “would you like it gift wrapped?”

”It would be lovely,” Casper finished, reaching into his pocket to produce a small, chrome card case.

Young Justice

Location
💀 Mt. Justice.
💀 Teleporter Room.

Interactions
💀 @dreamingflowers

---

Turning his gaze sideways to meet Daphne’s bright, chocolate eyes, Casper offered the girl a soft, silent smile in response. It was an appreciative gesture, one warranting a verbal approach, ”within the halls of castle Blackwood, there is quite a large painting of Persephone,” Hex began, leaning closer as he spoke. Quiet, spectral words trickled past his lips, and the boy proceeded, ”you continuously put her to shame.”

Turning his attention towards Red Tornado, Casper remained standing where he was, ghostly orbs lingering upon the construct. Another one, alongside Alisa. Life simulated without truly being a part of it, a mimic. Yet, Hex was frozen in a position where respect was offered. The Wraith did not decide what life and death entailed for others, as it was. This did not offer comfort when confronted by metallic abominations, he would add.

Again, the teenager’s focus found a new target, this time narrowing in on the jeep. That vehicle would certainly suffice, and while Casper was used to far more regal accommodations, a seat served its purpose no matter the car.

A voucher from the Justice League was, however, highly unnecessary. Though the Wraithborn was aware of his peers, the concept of currency had been somewhat jaded throughout his existence. The Blackwoods were billionaires, and Hex had called an impressively large castle home until recently. Could he hand the voucher to his teammates? No, a second analysis of the notion made him appear arrogant and smug. He would accept the money he had been given, which in itself was likely an attempt at streamlining the situation. His superiors were well aware of Casper’s wealth, and yet, he was given ‘spending money’ offering the role of forgotten pocket change in a jacket lost inside a dusty, untouched closet.

It was irrelevant. His mother, and yes even the boy’s father had taught him better than to dismiss a gift, whether he required what had been given, or not. One did, after all, not refuse such patronage.

Another issue lingered. Would the others come to an agreement on who would drive? Hex could very well have enjoyed a walk through the city, which in turn would offer interesting sights, but the Wraith was not naive enough to put himself in that position. One could claim that Casper Blackwood was an easy sight to document, and he was not yet prepared for such a social outing.
It was different when Hex operated on his own. Now, he was part of an organization, and his presence was required for the concept of team building, something he had attempted, himself. With Daphne, this was successful. He enjoyed her company, and the girl brought something to balance Casper’s darkness. She brought life, and with it came appreciation from the ghostly entity.

Young Justice

Location
💀 Mt. Justice.
💀 Casper’s Room.
💀 Teleporter Room.

Interactions
💀 Whoever.

---

Gazing upon the ghostly reflection of a peculiar boy on the surface of a polished mirror, Casper’s eyes scrutinized every available venue. Questions circled his mind, the notion of regal formality clashing with a casual approach. Following a slow tilt of his head, Hex gently adjusted the tie around his neck. Was it the right color? White with black stripes, or black with white stripes? Tracing claws against its shape, Casper closed his eyes for a brief moment. The boy quite enjoyed donning different outfits, thoughts of past masquerades coming to mind.

He missed those days, soft classical music filling marble halls with elegant regalia dotted by intricate masks rightfully dubbed artwork. Festivities of the wealthy, a flamboyant display of riches and fashion entwined, a side of Casper he had not displayed for his newly acquired allies. Perhaps one day he would regale them of waltzes beneath shimmering moonlight. A slowly wagging tail indicated bliss conjured by such thoughts. A nobleman’s dance of pleasure shrouded in the mystery of obfuscation, ornate visages blanketing each attending face. It was what Casper considered a party, what he thought of as gatherings, something quite clearly separating him from modern wealth. Drugs, prostitutes, and costly mistakes.

Returning to the current issue at hand, Hex’s dilemma remained. He did not know what to wear. In fact, this extended to the boy’s new approach as a whole. Who was he? Who was Hex? “I have an idea,” Coal stated, piercing the silence that had grown thick between the two.

”Share with me these thoughts,” Casper responded, brow rising as he aimed those ghostly spheres at the crow visible upon his mirror.

“Where’s that leather vest of yours? You know, the gay one,” the avian cawed, pointing a wing at the closet, “put it on top of what you’re wearing.”

”The gay one,” Hex repeated, followed by a slow shake of his head. ”Mother claimed the same,” he continued, reaching a clawed appendage into the closet before he procured the vest. It was a peculiar thing, one with zippers and a punky touch, something that may have clashed with his otherwise regal attempts. ”It doesn’t.., look horrible,” Hex offered, donning the vest atop his dress shirt and jeans, witnessing it hugging his spindly, svelte form.

“Now, roll up your sleeves, put on those gloves, and you’re golden!” Coal finished, indicating the fingerless leather gloves Casper would soon slide over his claws. It was, incidentally, the only type of handwear he could utilize.

A moment lingered, Hex’s gaze returning to that mirror as he pondered the result of Coal’s suggestions. ”It is.., different,” Casper offered, arms crossing as his tail swayed in thought.

“You look great! Stop obsessing over your clothes, geeze,” the spirit rolled its eyes. “The others are waiting for us. Come on, come on!” Small, taloned feet hopped in place before Casper finally conceded. Coal was right, the boy could very well spend an entire afternoon fretting over his attire. It would not come to that, however. Taking a step towards the door, Hex wasted no time in phasing through the obstacle, dark energies dematerializing him before once more shaping the boy into a solid form on the other side.

”Where do you reckon we’re headed?” The Wraithborn asked, a claw rising to call the elevator at hallway’s end.

“Therapy,” came a quick response, “these kids are made of glass. Imagine when you need to actually fight shit.”

”Come now, Coal. Don’t be so crude,” the boy retorted, his converse-clad feet bringing him into the metal box, ”it was you who assured me of their eventual growth,” Casper reminded, hands moving behind his back as the elevator started towards the lower levels.

“Yes, but that only means that they’re crybabies right now!” Coal pushed as they waited to reach their destination. “If this was the reaction to your initiation, you’d be dead.”

”I’d be dead.” Hex displayed a soft smirk, eyes rising to a shifting number over the metallic door.

“You know what I mean! The not-walking-around type of dead!” A very passionate display, but Casper had a single rebuttal.

”We shall revisit this conversation when I embrace flight.” With that, polished, chrome doors slid open, and Casper joined his team. To him, it mattered little who drove. Hex would remain in the backseat.

Halting at Daphne’s side, the boy remained silent, tail slowly swaying as he carefully listened to his new comrades.

Young Justice

Location
💀 Mt. Justice.
💀 Casper’s Room.
💀 The Lounge.

Interactions
💀 Coal.

---

“Casper..,” Coal’s attempt pierced the silence. How long had it been? Mere moments? An hour? It was difficult to pinpoint the exact passing of time, Hex’s arms encircling his friend in what could only be considered desperation. A facade had been erected, one substituting fear with vigilance, stoicism replacing shock. Divorced from the others, however, Casper could shed this layer, if for only a moment as he was clinging to the large crow in his embrace.

”I won’t succumb,” the boy offered, his eyes opening to offer a somber expression. ”Allow me just a moment,” he pleaded, teeth clenching as Hex attempted to dispel the fright placed upon him by a distant memory.

“Take all the moments you need, dude,” the crow cooed, welcoming silence as it returned. Despite Casper’s shattered self, it was impossible to ignore a small, yet visible spark burning within. A sense of determination. It was like Duke Murdock Blackwood revealed, Hex had grown powerful, and a ghost from the past would not labor to spell his demise.

There was, however, a question lingering in the back of Hex’s mind. Had he been attempting to don the face of someone he wasn’t? It was true that despite his position as a marquess, Casper never flaunted his title. Indeed, the boy had displayed a respectful approach whether confronted by prince or pauper. Though, upon arriving in America, he had opted to abandon both his vocabulary and threads of regal standing. For someone so adamantly apathetic towards the opinions of others, Casper had braved great lengths in an attempt to fit in.

Rising to his feet, Hex noted how Coal’s shape vanished from between his arms, talons materializing at his shoulder. There was a moment’s hesitation before Casper deigned to approached his closet, claws wrapping themselves around the handle before slowly pulling it open. Within he witnessed that of which was Casper Blackwood, a mask residing below neatly folded clothes.

Where had he come across the handle ‘Hex’? It was quite fitting, but if analyzed, a question sprung to mind. What had brought this creature, one disregarding the notion of masks, to pick one up for himself? Perhaps it was a desire to separate from the name ‘Blackwood’, an attempt at carving out his very own identity divorced from mother, father, and bloodlines. It was a distinct contrast to his fellow student, Zachary Zatara, who desperately sought to wield his surname. Casper had muted his own.

Claws gently traced themselves across the mask, feeling its hard surface against their sharp tips. Was this a desire to abandon his father’s name? Hex, its very definition denoting a curse, a bewitching spell. It was what Casper had become, which in turn indicated a desire to embrace his nature, an existence bestowed upon him by his father. “What’s on your mind?” Coal asked, seeing how Casper slowly retrieved the mask, eyes meeting a plague doctor’s visage.

”Why am I afraid?” Came a question, Hex’s voice mellow in execution.

A moment passed before Coal responded, avian feet landing atop the mask. “The guy killed you.”

Again, there was a pause. Casper’s mind worked to decipher his emotions, a circle of never-ending questions. ”Then, we are the same, he and I.” A faint frown bridged itself across Hex’s features, ”father created Hex, but it is mine.”

“Yeah!” Coal exclaimed, “told old man shouldn’t scare you, Cassy! You’re the fucking ‘Hex’!”

Lowering his mask, Casper turned towards the door as Coal reclaimed a position at the bird’s favorite shoulder. ”Let us reconvene with the others.”

“So, now that your mental breakdown is over, I have a question for you,” the crow asked as they started down the corridor on a path to the lounge. “Everyone here is a bit broken, aren’t they?”

”Yes,” Casper offered, hands sliding into the pockets of his jacket, ”we are.”

“So, like..,” Coal continued, “what’s the plan? Overcome all this fuckin’ teen angst’ with friendship magic?”

Managing a soft smile, Casper’s eyes remained on the floor as he walked. He allowed himself a moment to consider an answer, pausing as he noted a soft, blue light emanating from the lounge. Halting his stride, Hex remained in the corridor, a dark shroud manifesting upon him, ”fortune smiles upon us, then, as magic appears abundant here.” He finished, before stepping into the sunlit lounge.

Young Justice

Location
💀 Mt. Justice.
💀 Casper's Room.

Interactions
💀 An Old Friend?

---

Darkness, a comforting blanket. It surrounded the young Wraithborn, embracing him as eyes closed, a process of meditation in the works. Casper felt the world vanishing, life, death, and limbo closing themselves off. There was silence.

An onlooker would have witnessed the boy sitting on the floor, Necrotic energies circling him like dancing snakes. A method of relaxation, the closest thing one could consider sleep for a Wraith such as him, and yet, nothing quite like it. A state of trance, a world where Casper could retire when the desire for bliss was prevalent. Shamans would perhaps claim that Hex had retired into his own mind, a refuge from the material and spiritual.

Ǎ̶͇̬̘͆̚n̵̢̘͎̋̃̾̄ŝ̸̡͎͇̽̒̂w̷͎̖̩͕͚͐͒e̷͙͠r̸̞̰̦̮̃ ̷̢͎͐̔̚͝m̸̢̧̜̎̄̑͆̐ĕ̸͇.̷̬͔̇̏̀̃͊.̶̲͈͌̍̈́̈͂.̵͎̋̈̽̽̐

Eyes shot open, brilliant white spheres peering through the darkness as Necrotic energies expanded into explosive dissipation. Teeth clenched, tension rising, all before Casper attempted to center himself. He was a Wraithborn, Necromancy given flesh, not a common teenager haunted by an angry spirit. He would not allow this presence to overcome his will. ”State your business..,” Hex demanded, rising to his feet. No more headaches, no more surprises. He was waiting for this, expecting it. He welcomed it.

The voice, demonic and shivering in nature, it mellowed into a more understandable tone. More familiar vocals. “M̸͕̻̔y̴̧̜͉̬͂ ̷̥̖̩̞̗̇b̵̢̜͈͙̑̓̈́ư̶̡̯̘̻̆s̸̢̹̮͇̀͊siness,” came a quiet chuckle, one soon accompanied by a shape manifesting through the blackness, “is you.”

”I surmised as much, yes..,” Casper’s ghostly echo lingered within his room, the boy’s gaze attempting to discern the shadowy form. This was not a ghost, nor a spirit. It wasn’t a phantasm, or a poltergeist. It was a will manifested, something unable to interact with the surrounding world, and neither could it be interacted with. A strong mind was enough to dispel the illusion, and where Casper fancied himself adequately experienced, this entity was powerful. ”You aim to torment me, then..?” Hex raised a brow. There was a sense of calm about him, proof of Casper’s nature and his abilities. It was unlike before. This time, Hex was prepared.

“Torment you..,” a response reached the Wraithborn’s ears, that hazy shape sharpening into a more recognizable sight. A display shooting a crippling chill down Casper’s spine. No, he would not be deterred. Not even by this. He couldn’t be, and yet, the boy stumbled, weightless steps bringing him towards a curtain-covered window. Fists clenched, eyes narrowing. Casper would have asked himself how this was possible, but the answers were present and obvious. His mother hadn’t destroyed the soul. She had only ended the flesh. “Why would I do that to my son?”

He was trembling, fists tightening to the point of pain. A moment further and Casper’s claws would have pierced his own skin. No, he could not leave this entity victorious in a battle of wills. ”Need I seek you in the world of Spirits to permanently cure us of your presence, father..?”

A moment of silence followed, spectral eyes meeting that of a memory, a shade neither dead, nor alive. An image. A message. “Oh, Casper,” the entity responded, “don’t get ahead of yourself,” a motion was extended towards the boy. “You have grown powerful.”

”You have remained.., for reasons beyond me..,” Hex seethed. Something must have brought his father back from death, or rather, claimed him following the man’s passing.

“Son, this is the first of many further meetings,” the man uttered, a respectful bow soon following. “I have missed you, so.”

”Abandon your attempts at etiquette. You curse my sight for a reason, and you were claimed by someone. Who..?” The Wraith frowned, arms soon crossing. A part of him expected to see his father again, but not like this. Not in a manner so impersonal.

“Know that I act out of love, Casper,” a translucent hand extended towards the boy. “Let this sink in, and we will see each other.., again.” Murdock Blackwood vanished, his shape dematerlizing.

Again, silence lingered, Hex’s gaze falling to the floor. He felt a set of talons gripping his shoulder, small, beady black eyes meeting the Wraithborn’s own. “Casper, I..,” Coal began, before the boy cut him off.

”It drains him..,” Hex stated, his mind moving towards conclusions. ”He didn’t abscond for the dramatic exit..,” the boy explained. ”He’ll return.., repeatedly..” If Casper’s studies had taught him anything, it was that magic penetrating another’s mind was quite taxing, and factored in distance. His father was doing this from the Spirit World.

“Dude, you just saw your dad! Don’t you need, like.., a minute?” Coal cawed, flapping his wings in a manner most exasperated.

”I..,” Hex tried, teeth clenching. A clawed hand moved towards his chest, memories of pain returning, a deathly sting piercing his heart. Falling to his knees, the trembling returned. He couldn’t maintain the act. ”H-he’s back..,” Casper reached for Coal, taking the bird in his arms.

“Casper! It’ll be fine, you hear me? You’re stronger than this!” The bird exclaimed, “you’re stronger than him!”

Tightening the embrace, Hex held Coal against his chest. Fear, a sensation Casper had not felt since that day. That fateful day, when a knife plunged into him.

Young Justice

Location
💀 Mt. Justice.
💀 The Lounge.

Interactions
💀 @Courtaud
💀 @Crimson Flame
💀 @canaryrose

---

Casper’s clawed digits did not remain outstretched for long, but rather returned to his lap where Coal had confiscated the boy’s lower half. In a way, he had expected Talon’s response, a reserved and withdrawn approach with a name far divorced from what had been presented. Talon, simply Talon. It was the extent of this young man’s identity, Casper reckoned, and by no fault of his own. The blood staining his hands was prompted by a past shrouded by control and the will of others, an aspect most relatable. Whatever resided beyond the title ’Talon’ was yet to be seen, and this likely held true for the wielder of this handle, as well. Had it not been for Coal, Casper’s behavior would likely have echoed the Assassin’s. That is what differentiated the two. Their circumstances.

There was, however, another addition present. Alisa Fields. The android, the programmed lifeform. If anything could warrant discomfort, Alisa was presenting the reason wherever she found herself. A soulless computer, a creature mimicking life through numbers and code. It was beyond Casper how individuals were capable of creating such a reflection of existence within a metallic shell, but it had been done, and this put the ‘Dead Prince’ in a very peculiar position. His allies were perpetuating the idea that Alisa wasn’t an object. She was a person, and where Hex was left torn on the matter, he understood one thing more so than most; social etiquette. ”Hello, Alisa..,” came a ghostly response, white spheres lingering on her shape. Was politeness part of her programming? Casper would return the favor, echoing Alisa’s attempt, before his focus diverted. Zach had entered the lounge.

He appeared distraught, that bright soul of whimsical purple flowing with magic. Casper had learned of Zach’s displeasure since a time back, however. He did not particularly fancy the Wraith, seeing him as little more than an intruder among the Zatara. Was it insecurity? Perhaps. If asked, Hex would claim that there was little need to elevate the paranoia of replacement. He was not remotely interested in being Zatanna’s protege, and he most certainly wasn’t one of the Zatara. Similarities ended at the concept of Magic, with Casper’s very being unlike anything wielded by his teacher, or her kin. In the same vein, Hex was a stranger, one considered an unwelcomed guest by his fellow student.

Though a desire to assist his teammates had made itself known within the Wraith since arriving at Mount Justice, he would benefit from the knowledge that inclusion was not always appreciated, nor was it warranted. Casper leaned across his knees and slipped back into his shoes before standing with Coal in his arms, the bird stretching and taking its place on Hex’s shoulder. Was there something the Wraith had left unsaid? His eyes scanned the room, taking a moment to linger on Zach where the boy was enjoying a bowl of ice cream.

”I will retire to my quarters..,” Hex stated, shifting his gaze to Talon for a brief spell. There was empathy within those phantasmal orbs, two bright spheres of energy peering through those they gazed upon. It was a short exchange before the Wraithborn turned and started towards the hallway. He required something akin to a break from the others. Casper missed his books, and the solitude of a dark room.

“Had enough?” Coal asked, nudging his friend as Casper walked down an ever-stretching corridor. “And are you dropping the act?”

The act Coal was referring to was Hex’s attempt at a more socially accepted vocabulary. His regal upbringing having been put aside in the process. ”It has been rather entertaining, though..,” the Wraith responded, clawed hands sliding into his pockets.

“Oh, you mean being a normal dude?” The bird returned, laughter soon following. “Will you start wearing suits again?”

”Let’s not overdo it..,” Hex offered, managing a slight, sharp-toothed grin.

Young Justice

Location
💀 Mt. Justice.
💀 The Lounge.

Interactions
💀 @Courtaud

---

The boy’s question had been answered by a shake of Talon’s head, and that was quite enough for Hex to note a conversation. So far, so good, as they said. Reminiscent of a cat on his lap, Casper stroked the oversized bird lazily basking in the attention so readily given, a position these two were in more frequently than either would care to admit. A slowly turning chair alongside a glass of whiskey and expensive suit would certainly paint a comical image, with these ingrediants in mind. Casper had seen enough James Bond movies to conjure the scene, and before leaving England, suits were the only clothes he ever wore. More casual attire was a new addition, to be sure, one he was growing accustomed to. Hex opted to leave his past behind, rather adopting a new alias, than maintain a title previously worn. ‘The Dead Prince.’

“Ah, nah my man,” Coal stretched his wings, exposing a feather-covered belly for those slender claws. “Cassy’s like..,” the crow began, “if you took Magic, and gave it a body,” his wing pointing skyward at the pale creature, “you get that.” Granted, this was not much of an answer, prompting Coal to proceed. “Well, Necromancy to be specific. It’s Death Magic, spooky stuff,” he illuminated. “Me? I’m a spirit, I can do some of the stuff Cas’ here can weave together.” Craning his neck to get a better look at Talon, the crow continued, “like.., I can do that teleportation thing Casper’s lazy ass keeps doing. I can phase through things, also something this lazy bum always does,” a wing accusingly motioned at the Wraithborn. “And some other shit, but you’re not interested in a whole fucking Ted Talk about this, I’m sure.”

”Growing up..,” Casper began, changing the subject and once more shared details of his past. Perhaps the transformation he had gone through labored to render secrets irrelevant. He saw little point in maintaining them, and no longer found himself drawn to the caution of discretion. The living world was a fading memory, constantly drifting further away with every tick of a clock. Time, it had lost its purpose, its value, and with it, so much once considered important. ”I watched a lot action movies..,” Hex stated, leaning back against the sofa, his eyes rising to meet the ceiling. ”Seeing you fight, it was.., impressive..,” the Wraith expressed. ”I always did envy martial warriors, their movements like..,” claws rose motioning at nothing in particular. A simple emphasis. ”...a dance..,” Casper finished.

His fight with Black Canary strung along the same path. It felt somewhat like artistic movements, each motion a choreographed execution. Magical battles were not quite the same, they revolved more around anticipation reminiscent of a chess game. Yes, a game of chess, versus a stage-lit dance. Turning to gaze at Talon, Hex’s spectral spheres narrowed their attention. Claiming that the boy looked through his companion was quite accurate, those orbs giving more attention to the spirit within. ”Though, this battlefield is more daunting, isn’t it..?” Came a question, another soft, somber smile bridging itself over Casper’s lips.

”We charge into battle without a second thought, but.., a conversation is quite frightening..” A slight tilt of Hex’s head allowed for his ghostly focus to entwine with Talon’s, his mellow expression lingering. ”So I believe a thank you is in order.., for braving these sands with me..,” a clawed hand extended, it’s dainty shape halting before reaching Talon. ”My name is Casper Blackwood, and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance..”