Baiting a hook needs something shiny and a big worm

[greatest_zatara]

If you asked Zachary Zatara to ever choose between style and substance, he'd tell you you were a fool for thinking there was a difference. Nothing without style has any substance, he'd be happy to inform them. That attitude was reflected in his magic as well. Never cook up a spell with three components if you can squeeze in seven, that sort of thing. Between his house and Constantine's, he'd managed to concoct a suitable recipe for deception. Old metal, older than most countries, had enough provenance to serve as the basis for a fake Helm (and really the museums that had displaced them had had generations to find the weapons they used for material, and if they hadn't found them by now, they obviously hadn't cared enough). The various distortions of time and connection to one of the creation energies made Mister Garrick's blood another useful component, although Zachary's (however sass-laden) deference to his elders made him more cautious than usual in drawing the portion he needed, and he'd bid the old man get a snack and some juice afterwards.

The rest of it really came down to cosmetics and tailoring, areas in which Zachary excelled through no other virtue than study and repetition. Abdullah made a near flawless double by the time Zachary was done with him. Constantine's regularly scheduled disregard for his own health, and other bad decisions, would account for any nicks and dents here and there. Mundane skill covered everything the naked eye could perceive, and with the actual Helm and Constantine nearby, he could (with more effort than he liked to admit, truth be told) redirect any scrying or similar magical detections onto the decoy.

"So..." Zach circled the stand-in, "--where are we setting this hook?"

Comments

[needsnewbusinesscards]

"Good thing that I can throw my voice." John demonstrated easily as his words issued from the other side of the room.

The warlock approached the front door and opened it, making sure that he was well hidden from anyone who was hiding in the forest that surrounded the clearing the house now occupied for their trap.

"Don't worry about actually speaking mate, if you allow me to, I'll use a modified version of a compulsion to speak spell that I once used on Jason Blood." He received a well deserved punch for it once Etrigan had been dispelled. "Instead of forcing you to actually speak, you'll technically be miming."

[first_lightning]

Jay steps out into the forest, taking in a deep breath of the fresh air.

"I'll be nearby, vibrating out of phase and ready to move. Good luck, gentlemen."

He tugs the edge of his helmet down, tipping his 'hat', and vanishes with a smile.

[planetaryguide]

"All right, mates," he says. "Let the show begin."

He takes Fate's helmet, and can feel the power pulsing through it. He can see why it's in such demand.

He steps through the door, and lights up a cigarette. Thankfully, the smell allows him to fake smoking it, because that would be a bridge too far. He scans the forest for his assailant.

[planetaryguide]

A man seems to melt out of the shadows, silhouetted in moonlight, his faces not visible.

"So we're trying this again, Mr. Constantine? Or Have you finally come to your sense? Give me the helmet, and this hunting can end."

[needsnewbusinesscards]

"Senses totally come to." John remarked through the Ghost, hoping his doppelganger had a smug look on his face. "Which is why I've got myself a little help."

[first_lightning]

The mysterious man finds himself surrounded, a moment later - by an army of one. Jay launches himself into combat, visible only as a blur of primary colors. He runs in a tight circle around the figure, beginning to draw away the air in a rush.

[greatest_zatara]

Whatever kind of monster their foe might be, some universal standards still applied. The need for sight, for example.

"Tniap ti kcalb."

Zachary conjured a mass of impossibly black paint, dousing their foe's head. Light even seemed to be bending around it, it was so black. The mage smiled to himself. Crimefighting isn't artistic use, right? Suck on that, Kapoor.

[planetaryguide]

Zatara senses it even before Garrick, the way the man in shadow moves at unearthly angles, seemingly shimmering in and out of the universe, avoiding at least some of the Flash's punches. But not all, and suddenly the shadowy figure is staggered. He's tougher than he looks though, and he throws a probably meaningless punch at his assailant. He's half blind from being suddenly covered in paint, though and suddenly he's losing his veneer of menace. Outmatched, he steps outside the universe for a second, reappearing near "Constantine."

But he doesn't seem to have realized yet that the "Constantine" is a fraud ... and Abdullah, too, can move in and out of The Bleed. The Ghost of Desert lands a kick to the assassin's torso The two begin to fight, seemingly blinking in and out of the universe as they do.

[first_lightning]

Jay recognizes the ability, from his fight with Abdullah in Kahndaq. He shouts, to either of the magicians who might be in earshot.

"Tether him to this plane if you can!"

He can adjust his vibrational frequency to partially compensate for their powers - but his interference may do Abdullah more harm than good - so for now, Jay bides his time.

[needsnewbusinesscards]

From just inside his hiding space behind Abdullah, John's hands begin to glow gold as they trace an elaborate looking sigil that floats before their target.

Zachary would feel some very familiar magic being tapped into as the Brit starts to speak. "Rehtet mih ot siht mlaer."

[planetaryguide]

The Fictional Man lands a punch on Ghost and begins to blink into the bleed, when suddenly he realizes he can't. For a second, his features seem visible ... as a look of terror falls across his face.

Ghost seizes the opportunity to land blow after blow, hitting and kicking his mysterious assailant until, finally, he is on the ground.

"No ..." whimpers The Fictional Man. "I can't fail. I can't ... It's the only way ..."