Humble Beginings

[demonshead.livejournal.com]

The first articles of clothing he found smelled sour. A shirt and painter's overall's, stained with chemicals and the refuse of the dumpster in which they were found, has sufficed until he could acquire something cleaner. It would have been easier to simply take what he needed. He could have even rationalized the theft with silent promises to pay for them later, but it would have remained theft and he was reticent to begin dabbling in petty sins so early in his new life.

The stern cold eyes of the Spectre upon him when the thought occurred might also have factored into the decision.

So it was that Ras Al Ghul did something that he had not done in a long time in life. He swallowed his pride. Wearing his disheveled dumpster won clothes, he walked into the soup kitchen at the end of town. It was a humble place run by the local church. The priest and volunteers were open and kind and treated him with respect. The food was simple but filling and he expressed his gratitude at the offer of clean clothes and a place to rest. ‘Ras Al Ghul, the beggar'.

He had expected the Spectre to mock him, but it did not. The vengeful wraith was more complex than he had believed. It's manner seemed markedly different than before. Something about their union had influenced the spirit's character. It chilled him to think that the effect might be two sided.