(FIC) Eye of the Storm, (Phantom Stranger+Etrigan, Superman/Batman) PG
Today is the Day of the Dead in Mexico, when we honor those departed. Thus, I have the day off school, even if it's not that big of a celebration in my area. I still like this day a lot, and I hope I'll have a chance to visit the graveyard this weekend. I'll write another story to cover my death-fic tradition with damo_in_japan, but I wanted to weave the theme with his request. So. Here it is. (Not a drabble at all, lalalaaa)
Title: Eye of the Storm
Fandom: DCU
Characters/Pairing: Phantom Stranger+Etrigan, Zauriel, Superman/Batman, Wonder Woman, other cameos.
Rating: PG
Word count: 1150+
Requested by: damo_in_japan 'Phantom Stranger and Etrigan, clothing'.
The sky is a whirlwind of bleeding red and purple; the battleground razed to ashes. The soil will be soaked in the blood of heroes and villains alike. The threat is too great for sides to exist between the Soldiers of Earth; even the worst of them have banded together and fight shoulder to shoulder with the Champions of Justice.
The Black Storm has broken its dimensional jail, spreading madness, pain and disease as it engulfs half the Earth. Casualties are innumerable. This is Earth’s Last Stance, a battle the heroes have fought a hundred times before, but have never lost before today.
The Soldiers of Earth have given no quarter. They stare into the eye of Armageddon and stand tall, fighting to a standstill with the Storm, even knowing that the Storm will swallow them all.
Johnny Sorrow is the first to fall.
Perhaps it doesn’t mean anything, since they will all fall in the end, but at this point, it seems important. Johnny Sorrow had been a vicious, self centered man all his life, yet he has stood to protect Earth. The rogues aren’t family, not all of them, but liaisons have been formed over the years, truces and pacts and leagues. The efforts of the Soldiers redouble with each loss.
The first line of heroes is quickly swallowed, thousands of creatures from Beyond tearing at their flesh and their souls. There falls the First Guard, the heroes of a Golden Age.
Sentinel. Flash. Wildcat.
Their brave efforts don’t go unnoticed. I have served with them, and though I have no friends in this Earth or any other, I grew fond of them. I can’t intervene, for this is not my battle. Not yet.
Superman and Wonder Woman are on the eye of the Storm. They won’t last long, heroic as their efforts are. They hold their ground for a minute, two. It is remarkable, and had the Storm any conscience, it might be surprised at the ferocity of their defense.
I stare at them, seeing others fall before me. I know once they’re defeated, destiny will be written for all that are left. It can’t be long now. I almost wish it won’t be long, to spare them the pain.
My eyes open wide and I can’t hide a smile. Humankind. They are stronger than they seem. A contingent opens a way to the two fighting Champions, armor and Kevlar instead of invulnerable skin, technology and physics instead of magic and superpowers. The Knights of Gotham, the Archers of Star City; their Nightmares and Rogues by their sides. Together they waste away against the Storm, freeze guns and vines that tear the darkened soil, arrows and guns, explosives and acid; blow after blow, they march on, the dark skies casting shadows that can’t be greater than the warriors themselves. It’s an epic scene, one that should be remembered in tales and song.
I can only hope someone remains to sing them.
As they reach their Champions, the roar of the Storm intensifies. Superman and Wonder Woman turn to join their peers, equals if not in power then in will and purpose. By my side, the Demon flinches, seeing the end of one he cares for approach. The Dark Knight falls as he finishes rounding up his contingent, madmen and heroes alike, the Children of Gotham. He has been wasting away for long, has resisted for long enough to entrust his troops to Wonder Woman. They will follow her, for as long as they can, for she is beautiful and terrible, both currencies the Nightmares appreciate. The Knight falls, a second stolen from the battle as the Champion of Light holds his other half’s battered body. The Storm’s roar is great, but Superman’s battle cry is even louder.
They fight, brave and bright in this dark day. Shooting stars, shining bright for a moment, only to disappear. I see no regrets here. No shame. I am proud of Earth’s Children, and I wish for the end of all this. We can’t intervene, not yet.
Superman falls, not far from the body of his beloved, a horde of creatures at his feet, more crawling over the bodies of those defeated. He can’t fight forever, and then only the Warrior Princess from Themiscyra remains. The madmen that follow her defend their ground like hellhounds, but they too will fall.
At last, only a handful of Champions remain, alone, separated. Their doom is near. They face it with a smile on their face, some, or with a battle cry, others. I expected some of them to break, yet they fight like men and women possessed. Perhaps they are.
I turn to my companions, both of them silent witnesses to this carnage. We could not intervene, not until Earth’s Champions have fallen. Such is the Doom of the Storm.
If we succeed, we might be able to bring them back. But what happens now, no mortal shall ever witness.
“Time has come to open the gates of Heaven and Hell. Have you chosen a side this time, Stranger?” Zauriel asks, extending his wings.
Etrigan runs his fingers through the black cape he has retrieved, blood stains wet in the dark material. He seems lost in thought. I look at him, and then at the angel at my right, and I know my answer will set me apart from both of them again.
“I stand on behalf of Earth’s Champions, as I have walked among them for long. Neither here nor there, as it was my charge,” I speak, my choice not a hard one this time.
Etrigan snorts, dismissive.
“For sides I do not care.
Be ready for battle,
lest Earth shall despair.”
The Demon’s voice is gruff and lacks the good humor mayhem often brings him. Perhaps he too is afraid of the Storm. Great powers surround us, our clothes turned to ones better suited for battle. I have not worn these clothes in thousands of years, yet they are still familiar, a reminder of a past shared with one of my companions. I should be ashamed of my memories, but they are sweet under the red skies, they are comfort as we lurch forward.
The Gates of Heaven open. The Mouth of Hell spills thousands of demons. The battlefield is yet again filled with Champions. They have answered our calling, the angels and the fallen, they have come.
The battle continues. We are not afraid. If we die, we shall go as bravely as our mortal counterparts did. I hope, perhaps foolishly, that tomorrow there shall still be a world to tell tales of greatness, to sing songs of glory.
Etrigan joins my side during the battle, his blows vicious and sure; his war cries are louder than thunder and yet, reassuring to my ear. I redouble my efforts, and the Storm loses ground around us. Mayhap, they will sing about us too, someday.
Title: Eye of the Storm
Fandom: DCU
Characters/Pairing: Phantom Stranger+Etrigan, Zauriel, Superman/Batman, Wonder Woman, other cameos.
Rating: PG
Word count: 1150+
Requested by: damo_in_japan 'Phantom Stranger and Etrigan, clothing'.
The sky is a whirlwind of bleeding red and purple; the battleground razed to ashes. The soil will be soaked in the blood of heroes and villains alike. The threat is too great for sides to exist between the Soldiers of Earth; even the worst of them have banded together and fight shoulder to shoulder with the Champions of Justice.
The Black Storm has broken its dimensional jail, spreading madness, pain and disease as it engulfs half the Earth. Casualties are innumerable. This is Earth’s Last Stance, a battle the heroes have fought a hundred times before, but have never lost before today.
The Soldiers of Earth have given no quarter. They stare into the eye of Armageddon and stand tall, fighting to a standstill with the Storm, even knowing that the Storm will swallow them all.
Johnny Sorrow is the first to fall.
Perhaps it doesn’t mean anything, since they will all fall in the end, but at this point, it seems important. Johnny Sorrow had been a vicious, self centered man all his life, yet he has stood to protect Earth. The rogues aren’t family, not all of them, but liaisons have been formed over the years, truces and pacts and leagues. The efforts of the Soldiers redouble with each loss.
The first line of heroes is quickly swallowed, thousands of creatures from Beyond tearing at their flesh and their souls. There falls the First Guard, the heroes of a Golden Age.
Sentinel. Flash. Wildcat.
Their brave efforts don’t go unnoticed. I have served with them, and though I have no friends in this Earth or any other, I grew fond of them. I can’t intervene, for this is not my battle. Not yet.
Superman and Wonder Woman are on the eye of the Storm. They won’t last long, heroic as their efforts are. They hold their ground for a minute, two. It is remarkable, and had the Storm any conscience, it might be surprised at the ferocity of their defense.
I stare at them, seeing others fall before me. I know once they’re defeated, destiny will be written for all that are left. It can’t be long now. I almost wish it won’t be long, to spare them the pain.
My eyes open wide and I can’t hide a smile. Humankind. They are stronger than they seem. A contingent opens a way to the two fighting Champions, armor and Kevlar instead of invulnerable skin, technology and physics instead of magic and superpowers. The Knights of Gotham, the Archers of Star City; their Nightmares and Rogues by their sides. Together they waste away against the Storm, freeze guns and vines that tear the darkened soil, arrows and guns, explosives and acid; blow after blow, they march on, the dark skies casting shadows that can’t be greater than the warriors themselves. It’s an epic scene, one that should be remembered in tales and song.
I can only hope someone remains to sing them.
As they reach their Champions, the roar of the Storm intensifies. Superman and Wonder Woman turn to join their peers, equals if not in power then in will and purpose. By my side, the Demon flinches, seeing the end of one he cares for approach. The Dark Knight falls as he finishes rounding up his contingent, madmen and heroes alike, the Children of Gotham. He has been wasting away for long, has resisted for long enough to entrust his troops to Wonder Woman. They will follow her, for as long as they can, for she is beautiful and terrible, both currencies the Nightmares appreciate. The Knight falls, a second stolen from the battle as the Champion of Light holds his other half’s battered body. The Storm’s roar is great, but Superman’s battle cry is even louder.
They fight, brave and bright in this dark day. Shooting stars, shining bright for a moment, only to disappear. I see no regrets here. No shame. I am proud of Earth’s Children, and I wish for the end of all this. We can’t intervene, not yet.
Superman falls, not far from the body of his beloved, a horde of creatures at his feet, more crawling over the bodies of those defeated. He can’t fight forever, and then only the Warrior Princess from Themiscyra remains. The madmen that follow her defend their ground like hellhounds, but they too will fall.
At last, only a handful of Champions remain, alone, separated. Their doom is near. They face it with a smile on their face, some, or with a battle cry, others. I expected some of them to break, yet they fight like men and women possessed. Perhaps they are.
I turn to my companions, both of them silent witnesses to this carnage. We could not intervene, not until Earth’s Champions have fallen. Such is the Doom of the Storm.
If we succeed, we might be able to bring them back. But what happens now, no mortal shall ever witness.
“Time has come to open the gates of Heaven and Hell. Have you chosen a side this time, Stranger?” Zauriel asks, extending his wings.
Etrigan runs his fingers through the black cape he has retrieved, blood stains wet in the dark material. He seems lost in thought. I look at him, and then at the angel at my right, and I know my answer will set me apart from both of them again.
“I stand on behalf of Earth’s Champions, as I have walked among them for long. Neither here nor there, as it was my charge,” I speak, my choice not a hard one this time.
Etrigan snorts, dismissive.
“For sides I do not care.
Be ready for battle,
lest Earth shall despair.”
The Demon’s voice is gruff and lacks the good humor mayhem often brings him. Perhaps he too is afraid of the Storm. Great powers surround us, our clothes turned to ones better suited for battle. I have not worn these clothes in thousands of years, yet they are still familiar, a reminder of a past shared with one of my companions. I should be ashamed of my memories, but they are sweet under the red skies, they are comfort as we lurch forward.
The Gates of Heaven open. The Mouth of Hell spills thousands of demons. The battlefield is yet again filled with Champions. They have answered our calling, the angels and the fallen, they have come.
The battle continues. We are not afraid. If we die, we shall go as bravely as our mortal counterparts did. I hope, perhaps foolishly, that tomorrow there shall still be a world to tell tales of greatness, to sing songs of glory.
Etrigan joins my side during the battle, his blows vicious and sure; his war cries are louder than thunder and yet, reassuring to my ear. I redouble my efforts, and the Storm loses ground around us. Mayhap, they will sing about us too, someday.