Look around, leaves are brown...

[connor-hawke.livejournal.com]

Connor is washing dishes at the Arrow house. Mia's at school and Dad's at the Youth center. His shift at the Watchtower isn't for a few hours, and patrol's after that. The dishwasher, Connor swears, is still under some kind of curse Stanley Dover left.

He's REALLY got to stop procrastinating and pick up the phone to Tara. The last thing he wants to be is intrusive - or, worse, that JLA member that saunters into the business of other teams when he's not needed or wanted.

Simon and Garfunkel's harmony comes through on the old radio station. Connor sings along in his off-key tenor.


Look around,
Leaves are brown,
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter.

Hear the Salvation Army band.
Down by the riverside's
Bound to be a better ride
Than what you've got planned.

Carry your cup in your hand...



He's not noticing the sphere that's made its appearance in the kitchen. Not yet.

Comments

[jla-futures.livejournal.com]

Connor looks over his shoulder and sees it. This wasn't here before. It looks like some kind of alien artifact. He checks to make sure the tracer in his communicator is on. When one considers a Green Lantern as your close friend, one learns very quickly the protocol on these things is here for a reason.

He's about to open up a channel and report what he's seeing when one of the facets catches his eye.



The only other two people in the waiting room are a skinny man with a stocking cap slung over long, stringy blond hair. The blond NEVER seems to shut up. His heavyset, bearded friend seems to make up for it, answering everything with shrugs and casual eyerolls. He hasn't said a single word since Connor got here.

"SERIOUSLY, Lunchbox. We don't even count as family. I could use a smoke. You got any smoke?"

Heavyset man shoves his hands in his battered blue coat and answers his chatty friend with a shake of his head.

"Dude, I thought YOU brought the blunt!" The loudmouth looks over at Connor. "Hey, man. Got any smoke?"

"No." Connor folds his arms.

Mercifully, a nurse in scrubs comes in. In his arms, he's holding a small bundle. "Mr. Hawke?"

Connor stands up, glad not to have to get into further conversation. "How'd it go? Everything?"

"Smooth as glass," the nurse assures him. "Your stepmother's resting, and I think it took a lot out of your dad, too." The blanket in the nurse's arms shift a little, revealing a small face that's trying to sleep after all the excitement.

"Can I...?"

"Well, you're a good deal older than most big brothers, so I think it'll be quite safe." The nurse beams. "Here she is. Olivia Barbara Queen - all eight pounds and three ounces of her."

Connor accepts the baby. He wonders if that 3AM feeding's going to end up breaking windows. After all, there's a reason Clan Arrow invests in earplugs, and while his stepmom's Canary Cry didn't manifest until she had grown up some...

Well, that can wait. Introductions first.

"Hi, Olivia. Good to meet you. I'm Connor, your big brother."

The heavyset fellow is dragging his loquacious friend out of the waiting room, but stops to put a hand on Connor's shoulder and smile, signaling his congratulations with an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

[connor-hawke.livejournal.com]

Another facet, another life...


His hands are gnarled by arthritis, spotted with age with veins showing beneath wrinkled, thin skin. Maybe he can still fire a bow, but it's been years since he tried.

His hair would be white if he had any. In deferrence to tradition, his scalp is shaved. He adjusts the orange robe hanging off his bony shoulders as he looks up to the moon. The Watchtower hasn't been used for years, and it was never visible to the naked eye from Earth. Still, on nights like this, he swears that he can see it.

New generations of heroes have risen to replace the fallen and the aged.

It's been a good life, a worthy life.

[connor-hawke.livejournal.com]

Just as suddenly as it appeared, the artifact vanishes, leaving a rather confused Arrow in the kitchen. He's about to signal to the Watchtower about the artifact, when the alert comes in (http://community.livejournal.com/jla_watchtower/1204926.html)

Report's going to have to wait. Connor's hauling tail to the basement and his "work gear" as he can.