jla_watchtower | Entries tagged with zauriel

10xspeedoflight.livejournal.com

In a scene reminiscent of the one from Terminator, where Arnie pulls up from a crouch, crackling with lightning and totally nude, Barry Allen... appears. Except he's not nude; he's wearing scarlet and gold, and the uniform fits him perfectly. There's a flash to the past -

"Have to keep running..."

Opening his eyes, he sees a room covered with alien art, sculptures and a massive timepiece in a state of disarray. Smoke has filled the room. A man with clock faces on his broken spectacles lies in an unconscious heap some distance away. Barry shakes his head. This is a lot to take in. He walks over to the man, and makes sure he's alive. Whoever he is, he's had a lucky escape. A high explosive went off and the concussive blast must have knocked him across the chamber and into a wall. Another flash -

"Have to keep running... No matter how much it hurts..."

The timepiece makes a pathetic *ting* *ting* *ting* sound before ceasing, and collapsing. Something in time has changed. Barry looks at his uniform and realises it's him. Something has occurred to make him come back. He remembers dying, being absorbed by the speed force -

"Have to keep running... No matter how much it hurts... Time... Feel the time stream around me-"

How is he back? The destruction of this time device has made someone at some point in the years since his death do something to bring him back. But how? And why? He speeds out of the chamber and into a corridor, out of the corridor and into a trophy room. He speeds out of the trophy room and into a special containment room, and out of the containment room into a locker room, and then a meeting room, and then a monitor room.

"Iris..."

He sees faces he recognises as he speeds through the Watchtower, everything coming back to him. The Green Lantern, Hawkman, Wonder Woman. Everyone. His friends. His allies. The Justice League.

"The Watchtower is under attack..." The Flash speeds through the rooms he's visited, picking up villains as he goes. Captain Stingaree, the Eel, Stallion, Killer Wasp, Brutale. Some he recognises, others he does not. He ties them together and dumps them right in front of Hal Jordan.

"You've really let this place go to the dogs, Hal."

Current Location: The JLA Watchtower

jla-extras.livejournal.com

At the corner of Hollywood and Vine, the ground begins to tremble on an early summer evening - the hardy native Californians ignore the tremor at first, accustomed to such things living this close to the San Andreas fault. The hissing gasses and wave of heat might be ignored as well - after all, this is where movies are made - but the follow-up is all too real.

Demons begin to pour forth from the fissure that quickly forms - their twisted, red-black bodies bending unnaturally as their charred wings expand, feeling the freedom of the air for the first time in age untold.

Hell on Earth begins here.

Current Location: los angeles

jla-villains.livejournal.com

Conrad Laughlin was a man on a mission. More than anyone besides his specialists knew of. The Justice League's Watchtower satellite required minute-by-minute updates and maintenance. This is not something normally handled by its members, so tech support is always moving through.

The background check is well and truly exhausting. One day's work requires a month of informational requests, as well as interviews with family, and what appeared to be a "spirit sniffing" from a rhyming gargoyle. That was the strangest part of the entire day so far. The fact Laughlin's packed lunch now bore the faint smell of brimstone was just an added bonus.

He wasn't able to bring any of his own tools as everything necessary would be provided by the League staff, and a schematic as to what he'd be facing was completely out of the question. Conrad was working blind here, but when your client bases itself on universal security, its a moot point.

Turning to the worker next to him in a rather bright orange (with garish blonde work-boots), he spoke quickly. "If the pay for this wasn't ridiculous, I'd almost do it for the sights. Where are you out of?"

keystonesfinest.livejournal.com

Dr. Alchemy sits atop the Gothic Revival Tribune Tower in Chicago, legs dangling over the edge of the tall ledge he's perched on, the Philosopher's Stone in one hand, and a smaller book than usual in the other. He's having to use a metal clip to keep the pages open where he wants them, given the high winds this far up, so he's less than happy. Any damage to a book puts Alchemy in a bad mood.

He reads from his book; Atlas Shrugged. "Run for your life from any man who tells you that money is evil. That sentence is the leper’s bell of an approaching looter. So long as men live together on earth and need means to deal with one another–their only substitute, if they abandon money, is the muzzle of a gun. What an interesting philosophy…" Alchemy doesn't even look up as he activates the philosopher's stone, and the walls of the Chicago Mutual Bank turn into oxygen, exposing the vaults to the public.

"When you have made evil the means of survival, do not expect men to remain good. Do not expect them to stay moral and lose their lives for the purpose of becoming the fodder of the immoral. Do not expect them to produce, when production is punished and looting rewarded. Do not ask, ‘Who is destroying the world? You are." He sniffs. "I merely change the world. I destroy nothing. This Rand woman has some gaps in her knowledge." Again without looking, he clutches the stone and the roads beneath him begin to change into mercury.

-

Meanwhile, other villains, rogues and criminals run rampant throughout Chicago, all intent on causing the largest distraction possible for the Justice League.

Current Location: Chicago, IL

zauriel1971.livejournal.com

Zauriel leads the way to find Dr. Fate. Knowing Asmodel is free and after the power of the Spectre, time is running out fast! He only hopes he gets there soon enough, or it will be devastating for everyone...

__________________

Outside Dr. Fate's tower, Traumiel has already arrived and orders his minions to attack. He shouts to the tower, "FATE! You will help us to find the Spectre!" Little did they know, he was not there, but it was not vacant, there were others there to oppose them all...

zauriel1971.livejournal.com

Time has past since the last major presence of Asmodel on earth. Since then, he has been transferred from heaven's holding cells, to hell itself for containment for judgment on the Last Day. Some of his former servants have found out where he is thanks to recent interruptions in hell by earth's heroes...

Traumiel, a bull host like Asmodel, has managed to sneak to where he has heard his master is kept. He feels the heat and smells the stench of death strong in his nostrils. "Zauriel and his pals will pay for what they've done to my master! They thought they could slip through here to find a friend without notice! I heard one of their minds give way to mention the fact that my master had been moved here somewhere to await being judged. Not for long!" he says to himself. He stealthily sneaks to the spot and sees two dragon creatures guarding the former king angel, and former host of the Spectre. "You will soon be free my master!" he says to himself quietly, "You will soon be united with the Spectre! Soon you will rule hell itself from Neron and any other fool enough to face me!"

elfinlantern.livejournal.com

Arisia hasn't been in her below the bar apartment in awhile. She's be busy cleaning up after the whole Sinestro issue and then there had been an outbreak of Graxosian measles (the closest English approximation) in her home sector. Then she had family obligations she needed to take care of while she was in the area....

Well, she's been kept away from Earth for awhile, especially as she wanted to make sure she wasn't going to bring anything contagious back with her. These things can be tricky, even for Oan power rings to spot. So, settling back into the apartment is a little strange. Going back to something more of a day job is even /more/ strange. This place runs without her well enough but she likes to help, likes to be here.

After a nap and a shower, she's back out walking the floor, checking the inventory and taking orders with a smile on her face.

j-onn-j-onzz.livejournal.com

J'onn had been working on some things, being at the ready for the heroes return, when...well, they returned.

"It is good to see you home." J'onn said, doing a quick head count. "Were you successful?"

geo-force.livejournal.com

A sharp pain hit him deep in the heart. it was a pain of the heart to indicate a slight weakening in his powers, caused by the deprivation of his home. He should have known better than to fly so high for so long. He angled his arms, and the lava jetting from his palms coupled with his gravitational manipulation abilities brought him closer to the ground. The closer he got, the warmer her felt on the inside. She was welcoming him back into her motherly grasp. She truly was Mother Earth to him. "If only," he began to say, but his landing was imminent and Brion quickly made the choice to focus fully on a safe landing for the Earth.

( Open Thread )

Current Location: Tejon Ranch

a-winged-prayer.livejournal.com

(Continued from here)

Charmuel of the Lion Host does not look happy at being inside Fate's tower; she keeps her wings folded tight against her body and her ears flat against her skull. All the same, she voices no complaint. Gemma has made clear her intent to be a witness at the trial of her lover, and Charmuel finds that she had little heart to deny her, particularly given the likely outcome.

All the same, there are dangers involved. Mortal flesh could not ascend to Heaven, only the soul. Charmuel could act as a guide for Gemma's spirit, but that would leave her body vulnerable to physical peril, not to mention possession. That was how they came to be in Gemma's bedroom, with Gemma on the bed, awaiting her angel's intervention with something less than perfect grace.

The lioness-headed angel stirred again.

"Are you ready?"

a-winged-prayer.livejournal.com

She has shown him the difference between knowledge and knowing. Even in the aftermath, the lazy caress of her hands over his skin is enough to set his nerves alight. Her sleeping weight atop him is a comfort and, for the briefest moment, he allows himself the illusion that it could shield him.

Now is not the time for illusions. He can feel the Host's displeasure, like the oppressing weight of a storm. His fall is complete and they have drawn near to mete out punishment.

"Gemma." He strokes her hair gently with the tips of his claws. "I have to go now."

gemma-masters.livejournal.com

She learned when she was fifteen that there is a certain amount of deliberate action to deciding you were going to be romantic with someone. It sounds really good in the books and movies where you just sort of spontaneously fall into it but that almost never happens. And when it does it doesn't go well.

She planned once to tell someone he could sleep with her, turns out a demon had asked him to kill her. Last Gemma had heard he was several surgeries in to seeing if he would walk normally again.

This was different. There was a certain amount of upfront planning and a lot of spontanaiety. First of all there was the fact the tower was sentient...that was a little wierd but it wasn't like having a person around. And Hector had to be out. That was a must.

Other than picking an open window of opportunity for alone time she was leaving it up to whatever happened.

Sitting in the windowseat of her room she smiles at Zauriel holding the differing futures she's seen in her mind. What will come is not set in stone, there is hope for them to come out of this on the other side in one piece.

"And we're alone. I thought Hector would never leave."

Current Music: Josh Groban - let me fall

a-winged-prayer.livejournal.com

"If this keeps up, I'm going to start feeling redundant." Zauriel teased his girlfriend as the last vestiges of her teleportation dissipated in the chill breeze of the alpine meadow. After the muggy humidity of Salem's summer weather, the change in climate was bracing, but welcome. And the view was nothing short of spectacular.

"After all," the angel continued, "wings are certainly useful to have, but they start to look kind of shabby next to instantaneous transportation." He spread the blanket currently slung over one arm over the short, scrubby grass and settled down, smiling as Gemma took a seat beside him with the picnic hamper. Maybe picnicking was an odd activity for someone who didn't eat, but he was more interested in the company. Gemma appeared to be handling the aftermath of her recent power-up well, but still, he worried a little.

Current Location: Germany

grey-walker.livejournal.com

Moonlight glints off of the nearly-still surface of a lake; a large, undisturbed body of water amidst a forest not yet popular with campers. For those seeking peace and quiet to contemplate life's heavier matters, it is positively ideal.

The Stranger walks the edge of the lake, this night, seeking out one such contemplative soul.

"Greetings." He speaks simply, his white eyes focusing on the figure at the lake's edge.

mrs-dibny.livejournal.com

It's just too damn quiet. She should could her blessings. She can could how many night like this there has been on her fingers and still have some left.

Allanah's asleep. Ralph is reading. Plaz is not up here being Plaz. The Earth is a big, beautiful quiet blue thing under the watchful eye of her here on the moon.

"Sue to everybody...How's life?"

a-winged-prayer.livejournal.com

The sun has long since set of Los Angeles, but the lights of the city keep the night sky suspended in the dusty, navy hues of a perpetual dusk.

The Aerie does not normally house visitors. It's not that they would not be allowed; Zauriel simply prefers to go where he is needed, rather than call others to him. Lately, however, he's been more reluctant to leave his sanctuary. He does not regret the choice that he has made, but it is not lost on him that he may well be trading in millenia of existance for a brief span of a selfish sort of happiness. It takes time to come to terms with that.

The quiet, insistant tone of his wrist-comm startles him out of his contemplation.

"Hello?"

gemma-masters.livejournal.com

There was something so great about being home after a long time travelling save the world adventure. Just knowing that there was your own bed and clean clothes made the whole having years of your alternate life stuffed in your head thing better.

She stole cookies from the jar on her way upstairs (slightly stale but who cared?) There was one in her mouth and three in one hand when she opened the door to her room and collapsed on the bed with a sigh.

And somehow she doubted this was the last not so fun thing that would happen in her life.

The cookies and the bed are abandoned in an instant, though, when she hears a visitor at her window.

laughing-mage.livejournal.com

The new flat is almost sterile seeming, especially compared to the place John lived right after he left America running from the hole in himself. Plain walls and surfaces with no decorations or knick-knacks are everywhere.

It's a between place, a place of waiting. What exactly he's waiting for isn't clear but after his little bargain session with Papa Midnight the shape of things to come is starting to be seen. All that's left is the final permissions given to the path he conjured up with a moments whim and there will be no turning back.

John Constantine's not the sort to turn back.

Still, the air and the messages in the ether are telling him he has a visitor coming so the best gameface needs to be on for now.

a-winged-prayer.livejournal.com

Though its gleaming outward magnificence remains unchanged, the interior of the rebuilt Aeirie boasts several improvements over its lost predecessor. Most notable among these are the spiraling, hollow columns of stained glass and silvered mirrors which replace the Aerie's seemingly infinite banks of viewscreens and illuminate the whole of the Aerie as if it were the grandest of cathedrals. The technology of heaven has advanced since the fall of the original structure and the engineers of the Host are always eager to test their creations on the mortal plane. Thanks to their latest invention, Zauriel, formerly of the Pax Dei and exiled by choice to stand as Heaven's champion on Earth, need no longer depend on his mortal senses to fulfill his duties -- he need only pay heed to the resonances of the spiritual amplifiers throughout his home to know where he is most needed to combat evil on this sphere.

( They call out to him now... )

oracle-watching.livejournal.com

"Oracle to all JLA, JSA, Titans, Outsiders, and allied groups ... we have reports of the space cockroaches--" she can't believe she just said space cockroaches with a straight face "--heading through the atmosphere to Earth. Please report any sightings ASAP. Oracle out."

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JLA Watchtower (Archive)

Entries tagged with zauriel

A hero in scarlet and gold

Smog and Brimstone

Fly me to the moon

My kind of town

Fate's Tower

Asmodel's Revenge!

Meanwhile.... at Warriors..

Home again.

Home is Where the Heart Is

Courtroom Dramas in Heaven

The Sword Falls

So let me fall if I must fall, I won’t heed your warnings I won't hear them

You look happy to meet me...

Serenity

Silent Night

High in the Desert, Near a Curtain of Blue

Home again, home again....

Did they all sucumb to all those lies, does it satisfy the greed, is it all you need?

Ours Is Not An Easy Task

There goes the neighborhood

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November 2016

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