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kippurbirdSo this is a drabble with someone other than Alec! *Gasps in horror* Yes. It's a fella named Eli. He's the son of the Angel Zauriel from the Justice league. I made him up, but have been playing with him for a bit.
In the burning twilight Eli fled, his wings straining to gain altitude. Below him the demons cackled and taunted as they followed him. He knew that they were just playing with him. That they could catch him at any time, but still every second he wasn’t captured gave him hope that maybe he could get away. In his hand he grasped his father’s flaming sword as if it were a lifeline. It was, really, his only protection against the demons, not having his father’s strength or sonic scream. That and his ability to fly. Some would call him a coward for fleeing, but it was the only thing to do. Demons had over run the city. Demons that were far too interested in him.
They had a good reason to be. His father was an angel. His mother was human. And he had never been angelically inclined. Not that it mattered now.
He felt claws grasp at his pants leg and swung blindly down. There was a hiss and a scream as the demon let go. He let out a grin of triumph, which turned to a grimace of pain as something else twisted his wing. Eli managed to twist out of the demon’s grasp, but he couldn’t keep flying. So he began to fall.
Below him he could see some of the few remaining heroes fighting as he fell down towards them. He couldn’t believe that he was counted as one of them. He didn’t want to be a hero. And now he was going to die, a feathered splat on the ground.
At least that’s what he expected. There was an explosion that pushed him back into the air, the heat searing at his skin, sending him tumbling back upwards. He slammed into a building and lost consciousness.
On the Watchtower a signal went off. Green Lantern, who was on duty at the time, looked at it, and then stared at it.
“That’s not right,” he said to himself. He tapped a few buttons on the control panel and brought up a map. The signal belonged to one of their reserve members, Zauriel to be exact. But the signal wasn’t coming from the fallen angel’s usual territory. As in it was coming from Gotham and Zauriel was based in Los Angeles. “Hey Oracle…” Kyle said, bringing up the Justice League’s information network center, “Is Zauriel in Gotham?”
The green mask of the Oracle came up on the screen, as the computerized voice said, “No Why?”
“I’m getting his signal from there,” he said.
There was a split second pause and then, “Yes, I’m getting it too. Batman’s in that area, I’ll let him know.”
Batman found him on the rooftops; wings spread out like a fallen pigeon. The sword was by his side, unlit. He was a thin, looking like he had missed too many meals. His hair was a silvery gray, his wings a darker gray. Looking closer, he noticed needle scars on the arms. Grunting Batman found what he was looking for in the pockets: the JLA signal device. It was dented and the enamel had been scrapped off. He turned it off before tucking it away. Eli had not stirred the entire time.
As he stood up, there was the hum of the transporter and Zauriel was standing there. He looked down at the unconscious Eli, his face expressionless. He then looked at the Batman.
“You know who he is?”
In the burning twilight Eli fled, his wings straining to gain altitude. Below him the demons cackled and taunted as they followed him. He knew that they were just playing with him. That they could catch him at any time, but still every second he wasn’t captured gave him hope that maybe he could get away. In his hand he grasped his father’s flaming sword as if it were a lifeline. It was, really, his only protection against the demons, not having his father’s strength or sonic scream. That and his ability to fly. Some would call him a coward for fleeing, but it was the only thing to do. Demons had over run the city. Demons that were far too interested in him.
They had a good reason to be. His father was an angel. His mother was human. And he had never been angelically inclined. Not that it mattered now.
He felt claws grasp at his pants leg and swung blindly down. There was a hiss and a scream as the demon let go. He let out a grin of triumph, which turned to a grimace of pain as something else twisted his wing. Eli managed to twist out of the demon’s grasp, but he couldn’t keep flying. So he began to fall.
Below him he could see some of the few remaining heroes fighting as he fell down towards them. He couldn’t believe that he was counted as one of them. He didn’t want to be a hero. And now he was going to die, a feathered splat on the ground.
At least that’s what he expected. There was an explosion that pushed him back into the air, the heat searing at his skin, sending him tumbling back upwards. He slammed into a building and lost consciousness.
On the Watchtower a signal went off. Green Lantern, who was on duty at the time, looked at it, and then stared at it.
“That’s not right,” he said to himself. He tapped a few buttons on the control panel and brought up a map. The signal belonged to one of their reserve members, Zauriel to be exact. But the signal wasn’t coming from the fallen angel’s usual territory. As in it was coming from Gotham and Zauriel was based in Los Angeles. “Hey Oracle…” Kyle said, bringing up the Justice League’s information network center, “Is Zauriel in Gotham?”
The green mask of the Oracle came up on the screen, as the computerized voice said, “No Why?”
“I’m getting his signal from there,” he said.
There was a split second pause and then, “Yes, I’m getting it too. Batman’s in that area, I’ll let him know.”
Batman found him on the rooftops; wings spread out like a fallen pigeon. The sword was by his side, unlit. He was a thin, looking like he had missed too many meals. His hair was a silvery gray, his wings a darker gray. Looking closer, he noticed needle scars on the arms. Grunting Batman found what he was looking for in the pockets: the JLA signal device. It was dented and the enamel had been scrapped off. He turned it off before tucking it away. Eli had not stirred the entire time.
As he stood up, there was the hum of the transporter and Zauriel was standing there. He looked down at the unconscious Eli, his face expressionless. He then looked at the Batman.
“You know who he is?”
