Supers haven’t been around for very long, but they’ve been around for long enough to establish certain…biases.

When the world was first graced with the first superhero partnership back in the ‘40s, it was through the fast-talking, kick-boxing duo of Pyra and Scorcher. In a way, they paved the way for how pyrokinetics, and supers at large, would be viewed going forward. 

So when The Mortician rose to power shortly thereafter as one of the first, and worst, supervillains to ever grace the planet, he, likewise, paved the way for how necromancers would be viewed going forward.

It’s all led to today, of course, where supers tend to be a bit finicky about their associates, a fact which Mara is very much aware of as she and Jefferson stand before one of the many empty rooms of the Green House.

“Don’t go to any of the overgrown rooms”, Baxter mutters as he drops a set of keys into her hands. “Unless you want to get eaten.”

She nods to herself, then frowns when she points out, “But they’re all overgrown”.

“It’s good advice. Take it or leave it.” He yawns before running a hand over his face, his half-lidded eyes brightening ever so slightly with clarity as a thought seems to occur to him. “What, uh, what should I call you?”

Mara tucks her keys into the pocket of her cloak. Hectic as their introduction was, she supposes they never did have time to exchange names. “Tombstone.” She tucks a lock of curly lavender hair behind her ear before adjusting her grip on the suitcase within her hands. “Do I call you Baxter or-”

“Bramble. You can call me Bramble”, he interjects before taking a step backwards. “Make yourself at home, I guess. I’m going to sleep.”

Mara tilts her head to the side, watching him walk down the aisle as she calls out, “But it’s two in the afternoon”.

“I’m aware of that, Ms. Tombstone.” With that, he rounds the corner, leaving a trailing of grassy footprints in his wake.

In the silence that remains, Jefferson remains, his fiery eyes full of uncertainty. Mara just rolls her eyes. “Oh, don’t give me that look.” She drags her suitcase through the door and brings it to rest against a dusty bedside table. Within a few short hours, she’s moved everything out of her suitcase and Closet Portal and into her new room. She lifts a hand to swipe at her sweaty forehead and throws open the window, sighing at the early evening breezes that wash over her. Only, she very quickly finds her smile falling at the sight of a cozy little cafe on the corner. There’s a poster of a cinnamon bun in the window.

“Oh, my Hades, I didn’t know you liked bun buns”, she recalls saying when she walked in on Damian with a mouthful of the little desserts, his eyes wide like the Jersey Devil caught in headlights. “You should’ve said something, I would’ve got extra.”

Damian had simply gone stiff, spitting the desserts out like they were poisoned. His lips twisted into a nasty sneer before he scoffed, “I was merely inspecting them. I wouldn’t be caught dead enjoying something so hopelessly sweet and cheerful”. He looked down at her, and just like that, the relief she felt at having something in common with him immediately turned to regret. “And neither should any self-respecting necromancer.”

Mara tears her stare away from the cafe, shaking her head at herself in reprimand. This is ridiculous. She came here with the intent to start a new life, to forget all about Damian and the horribleness that was their former partnership. Aching for a distraction, Mara casts a desperate stare across the room until she finally finds something. In the corner, there’s a venus flytrap that looks like it’s been dead for quite some time. Wisps the color of lavender drip from Mara’s fingers, eyes practically lighting up like a light bulb as an idea seizes hold of her.

Like a whirlwind, she rushes over to where her cloak dangles over the back of a dusty chair, digging through the pockets until at long last she comes upon her spellbook. She flips through her pages with a sense of urgency, fingers moving swiftly until she at long last comes upon her “Raising Veggies” spell. With a determined nod of the head, Mara relaxes her shoulders and is about to recite the spell when Jefferson suddenly barks, his eyes narrowed as he simply watches her.

“What? Oh, come on, this isn’t gonna be like last time, I’ve been practicing.” She turns so that she can’t see the disapproving jackal. Her eyes begin to glow a dim purple as she takes in one deep breath after the other, willing herself to focus on the deceased plant in question. “What once was green is now gone. Reverse from dusk to dawn.”

A shower of purple sparkles descends upon the flytrap, and for a moment, nothing happens. With her lower lip drawn between her teeth, Mara pokes her head out above her spellbook and just watches the plant. Jefferson likewise draws closer, paused just over her shoulder in wait. 

And then it happens. Slowly but surely, the flytrap starts to rise, patches of gray and brown giving way to green and pink until it at long last catches a spider spinning a web just above it. Mara spins in a circle, clenching her spellbook tight to her chest as she lets out a victorious shout. “Yes!” She turns a mischievous stare up at her companion. “See? Told ya I could do it.”

She turns on her heel to go show Bramble…only to falter when a green vine shoots in front of her. A small smile crosses Mara’s lips before she clears her throat and tilts her head in greeting. “Nice to meet you, too. I’m just gonna go get your, uh, creator and tell him that you’re not dead. So if you could just…just move. That’d be great.” Another vine strikes the other side of the door to form an X, and Jefferson lets out a quiet growl. Between one moment and the next, the flytrap has extended its vines to the floors, rising to a stand as another shoots out to strike her in the face, halted only by Jefferson ducking underneath her and prompting her to fall on his back. With her spellbook pressed to her chest, she holds on for dear life as he charges through the wall and sends them tumbling into Bramble.

“I may not be much of a people person”, Bramble says, summoning a vine that lifts them both off of him and neatly deposits them aside. He then rises to his feet, brushing himself off before he scowls down at Jefferson. “But I am definitely not a dog person.”

Mara springs to her feet, flipping frantically through her book until she comes upon her veggies spell once more as she says, “Give him a while, he’ll grow on you. Say, hypothetical question, have any of your plants ever tried to kill anyone before?”

“Only when I ask them to.” He raises a brow, curious as he eyes her. “Why?”

She comes back onto her page, heart sinking in her chest at the sight of her inelegant scrawl, warning of potentially homicidal side effects if you don’t first apply fertilizer. Why doesn’t she ever read anything all the way through? “Well, I kinda tried to bring that dead venus flytrap in my room back to life.”

“...And why would you do something like that?”, he asks with a tired yawn that quickly tapers off when the wall crumbles further and reveals the homicidal flytrap in question. He turns an exasperated stare her way. “Seriously?”

Warmth gathers in Mara’s cheeks, a sheepish laugh escaping her before she muses, “I wanted to do something nice. I had a feeling you weren’t exactly the cobbler type”.

“I’m not. But for all our sake, next time, just go with the cobbler.” The flytrap hisses and launches a pod full of teeth his way. With a hum, Bramble shrugs off his bathrobe, leaving him in just his supersuit. He grunts and clenches his fists into his famous cactus gauntlets. When the pod tries to wrap around him, he grabs one with one burly fist, then punches it with the other before turning a glance back Mara’s way. “Well? Are you going to help or not?”

Surprise descends upon Mara. She reaches into her spellbook for her scythe. “You mean you want me to fight with you?”

“What the hell else would you do?”, he asks as he leaps out of the way of the flytrap, just narrowly avoiding several rows of serrated teeth.

A disbelieving breath escapes Mara before she jerks her head at Jefferson. She hops atop him, and he rushes towards the shrieking flytrap. With a slice of her scythe, she shouts, “What once was dusk is now dawn, I bid you begone!” 

A flurry of purple sparkles surround the flytrap as Bramble kicks it and forces it to the ground, teeth gritted as it continues to snap wildly at him. Jefferson then strides over to it, snapping it up in its jaws and shaking it until her spell finally renders it lifeless once more.

“I thought.” Bramble lets out a trembling breath, his stare incredulous when he turns to look at her. “I thought you said you had tons of experience.”

Indecision draws a moment’s silence from Mara as she finds it suddenly very difficult to meet his stare. “I did. And I do. I just…” She brushes her hair behind her ear and sighs. “Well, the last guy I worked with mostly just wanted me to clean up after him and do crowd control. He didn’t want me getting in the way.”

“...Tombs, are you telling me that you have no field experience?”, Bramble asks, his expression guarded.

Mara wavers for a moment, taken aback by the nickname. He frowns, watching her for a moment, but she just lets out a breath and looks away. She rubs the back of her neck before she admits, “Well, I wouldn’t say none, necessarily. More so just…little”. He remains silent, opting instead to walk over to the once more deceased flytrap, his eyes solemn as he lowers to a squat before it. Mara winces. “I’m sorry. I just…wanted to thank you. For taking a chance on me.”

“Right.” He rises to his feet once more, towering over her when he turns a stare upon the scythe in her hands. “So that was one of your spells?” At the reluctant nod she gives, he hums lightly to himself. “I suppose you take your own directions about as well as you do anyone else’s.”

She brings her hands to rest upon her hips. “Excuse me? I did read my directions.” Jefferson huffs, and Bramble raises a thin eyebrow at her. Not willing to meet either of their eyes, she blows her bangs out of her eyes and purses her lips tightly together. “Okay, fine. I skimmed.”

“You seem to do that a lot”, Bramble mutters with a shake of the head. He then glances down at his supersuit and sighs, coated in plant guts and acid. “Well, this is ruined. I suppose we’re due for a trip to Gossamer anyway.”

Mara’s eyes go wide before she repeats, “Gossamer? As in The Gossamer? Are we gonna go get new super suits?”

“I hadn’t planned on it.” A small smile tugs at his lips, eyes brightening with amusement before it disappears just as quickly as it arrived. “But that flytrap was mutated to be venomous. Between that and whatever your resurrection did to it, I think it’s safer not to take any chances. I suggest you grab a change of clothes, he doesn’t like people tracking in gunk with them.”

Mara nods. “Right.” She summons a portal into the Closet Dimension and procures a handful of civilian clothes. She’s about to close it when another portal opens beside it.

“Is this you?”, Bramble asks.

But Mara just shakes head, confused herself when a woman brandishing black and yellow clothes steps through, her back straight as an arrow as she smiles upon them both and says, “Greetings! I bring news from the Citadel”.