<div class="floatleft">(http://i1027.photobucket.com/albums/y331/ReverseAdonis/6f227cea-f498-4c11-8f7b-41ff2f4e6403_zpsn0ht6x7n.jpg)</div><strong>Character Name:</strong>Rachel Roth<br/><strong>Alias:</strong>Raven<br/><strong>Time/Date:</strong>0330, March 23, 2016<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Watchtower, Personal Quarters<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong><strong>Mentioned:</strong><br/><br/>Inside a particular room on Deck 8, all of the artificial lights were snuffed out. The only sources of light into the room were the eerily arranged candles spread around the edges of the room, even the windows having been set to their maximum tint to prevent starlight and the earth itself from being seen. Small stacks of various kinds of books were placed seemingly haphazardly around the room, a small chair and eisel were in one corner, an unmade bed in another. Various nicknacks were places about by the room's owner, a young woman that was currently floating in midair in the very center of the chamber, legs crossed underneath her and hands resting in her lap.<br/><br/><em>"Justice League, this is Black Canary. We have a situation, Blakegate Prison is under attack....prisoners are been realised.....and I think....its by Superman."</em><br/><br/>Rachel Roth, more commonly known as the former Teen Titan Raven, let out a quiet sigh as she raised both her hands and clenched her fists. With a delicate thrum of power the candles were snuffed, and another gentle push the room's keypad was nudged, removing the tinting from the windows and flooding the room with more light. The curvy half-demon moved to stand rather than levitate, stretching out her body before reaching out and pulling her cloak to her, wrapping it around herself and pulling the hood low.<br/><br/>When the call had come out for new members to be recruited to the Justice League, Raven had been one of the first to be called, and one of the first to answer. Through her interactions with the Teen Titans she had met Batman on several occasions, and her empathy showed her that he was a man that could be trusted to handle things if they came to the worst. Her . . past issues and parentage were well-known by him, and he supported her idea of having back-up plans just in case she became controlled by villainous forces again. Placing her amongst the greatest heroes of the age meant that should anything go wrong, there would be plenty of people nearby to take her out, and that's just the way she liked it. It might be a rather grim view, but she really would prefer being taken out to being made to cause more pain and destruction . . .<br/><br/>With a pulling-up motion her soulself was called forth, wrapping around her body before twisting out of existance. There was only a slight delay before the figure of a black bird appeared on the Watchtower bridge, opening it's arms wide to reveal Raven walking towards Black Canary and the others, her heels tapping out a staccato rhythm against the floor as her soulself faded away into her shadow.<br/><br/><strong>"I apologize." </strong>Raven's voice was always odd. There wasn't much volume to it, but there was always a heavy . . feeling to it, in a way that could catch a room's attention with ease.<strong>"You caught me in the middle of my meditations. I can take us immediately to meet up with . . . Azrael."</strong>She truly hated that name. Not surprising, considering who she was and her past, but there wasn't much that could be done about that.<strong>"Do we have a way of tracking this so-called Superman? I doubt that he is the real deal, all things considered, but even if he has half the powers of Superman it would be wise to ensure we keep track of him."</strong>She reached a hand up to the stray locks of dark hair peeking out from under her hood, toying with them as she eyed the various assembled heroes. It was definately a motley crew that they had, but she was counting on them. Raven was doing her best to not outright say that it could be the true Superman, but she knew enough about mind control and dark magicks that she knew anything was possible . . .