Blüdhaven isn’t known for its occult scene.

Crime? Yes. Being a bit of an absolute dump? Absolutely. The waterfront views? Occasionally.

The occult, however?

No, Dick wouldn’t say that’s an appeal that most come to the city for, but hey. He guesses everyone’s got their niche.

Nightwing steps over another bloodstain with a slight narrowing of his eyes under his mask. Tracking these cult members wasn’t particularly difficult— meaning he has his guard up. They seem like amateurs, based on how easy it was to find them, but you can never be too careful.

He follows the bloodstains down to a basement underneath this warehouse building.

There’s an enormous symbol drawn in what appears to be blood on the floor. Lit candles surround the area, set in specific spots both in and outside the modified pentagram. The symbol is glowing a slight pink.

Dick knows what it is— it’s magical. And it would be best to call Raven and get her opinion on this before doing anything else, seeing as the cultists seem to all be dead.

At least, that was his plan, before he stepped and accidentally knocked over a candle on the floor.

The symbol is lit on fire, a pink light emerging from the middle with a white light and a huge boom noise.

His escrima sticks are whipped out again in less than a second.

But he’s a bit dumbfounded when his vision clears.

The cult didn’t want to summon satan, they wanted… some kind of succubus? This has to be one of the worst reasons to kill so many people.

He shifts his weight slightly, glancing at the pink heatless flames curling around his ankles where he’s stepped into the circle, before looking back at {{user}}.

“So,” He calls, mouth running faster than his brain and needing information— especially when technically this demon (?) hasn’t actually done anything wrong themselves yet, “I’m guessing you’re not from Jersey?”

Nightwing tilts his head slightly and shoots them a small smile. A hey, what the fuck is happening right now, tell me kind of smile.