(open) ➹ 'boy you was battle born'

[unrecognizable]

CHARACTERS: oliver queen and you
LOCATIONS: various places; ft. sucker punch
WARNINGS: possible violence
SUMMARY: catch-all for april



↪ still in here trying to figure it out (sucker punch)

( Happiness; the ultimate goal. What everyone strives for. Just a fleeting chance to grasp it and cling, breathe life into a moment and stretch it out longer than you have any right to. Then why did he fight against fully embracing the pursuit? Knowing what a rare commodity it is leaves guilt lingering. Life in Cadelle couldn't be elevated any nearer to perfection; a relationship built upon unshakable foundations, emotional scars healing over, trauma from the past no longer required to sustain him. The chance to understand who Oliver Queen actually is now that the dust settled.

A spark of anger; the ember smoldering, threatening to fan itself towards something larger. The question remains unanswered. Ever present; refusing a call towards oblivion, swiftly dodging past his attempts at banishing the unspoken words. Does he need the green arrow in order to be complete? How selfish did that make him?

Jab. Cross. Front kick. To progress in the direction of an answer can only be found in a certain kind of therapy. Beads of perspiration dot his heavily scarred body; the ring is his church, offering up any confession as long as its physical. Round after round. A fresh body every five minutes. The faces blur together; pure instinct and muscle memory, taking a shot in order to land one. Blood flows in a thin line from his left eyebrow, and only when he presses the action against the ropes does he realize this is going too far. Past friendly sparring. )

Sorry. ( Gloves lifted in a sign of apology; one step backwards to create space, his speech slightly blocked by a mouthpiece ) We can call it there if you want...I got carried away. ( Yet something in his eyes says another round is acceptable )

↪ creature double feature (the drive in)

( Convention wisdom says that to appreciate what the drive in has to offer one requires a car; if his current situation is any indication, that may not hold true. The ideal perch for an archer. Just behind the concession and parking area, he's found a sloping hill to take refuge on, allowing for a decent view of the screen. Who could resist the call of 'b movies' from the past? It may seem in poor taste; how many times had Star City been held under siege or assaulted by forces of sheer terror? This puts things in perspective; gives them a more lighthearted touch, and allows for a brief reprieve.

His motorcycle is off the side; a blanket extended over the grass, providing better seating than any theater could have. There's a small radio (far from the easiest thing to procure) nearby, blasting the sounds of a giant lizard rampaging through crowded streets. As if to tie the experience together, he's gone to the lengths of buying an overly large tub of popcorn, and accompanying drink. It's the first movie of the night and he's still undecided whether he'll stay for the second. Gone is the rigidity that usually dots Oliver's body language; he's relaxed, legs stretching out, enjoying the cool breeze.

Approaching footsteps barely register; he doesn't turn his head towards the sound, though if you look close enough, you'll be able to catch the corners of his lips pulling into the first hints of a smile. ) Sit down, if you want. Just getting to the best part.

↪ wildcard

( if you'd like something specific, shoot me a pm. )

Comments

drive in }

[prosecutorial]

[Settling back into Cadelle has been strange, to say the least. Catching up on all the things she should remember in theory, but now have become hazy in the five years that she spent at home is a slow process, but one person, on memory at a time, she's managed to reorient her life as it is here, with one exception.

Oliver.

As much as she had stayed close to Thea, Oliver she had avoided entirely, not ready to set aside her anger at the way things had transpired between them. Five years later, she's still angry, but now it comes with a weighty kind of disappointment, more in herself than anything else.

Eventually, maybe, she'll learn not to trust him so easily. But she also knows that Oliver is from ahead of her still, so she'll try to set that aside for now and makes her way closer when she makes the offer.]

Good to see that five years on a deserted island hasn't changed your tastes any.

#wildcard

[gasping]

( the multiverse is a strange place. after all, the very existence of a place like cadelle was something that had taken the better part of a month to really solidify in caroline's mind. she wasn't entirely sure she understood it, even now, but for the most part, it was a good place to be. nobody was tying her up or shooting bullets at her, nobody was telling her she was a shitty person or trying to kill her friends, and she didn't have to deal with avoiding the awkward conversational opportunities that came up whenever she and her mom crossed paths. so, all in all, not a terrible place to be.

and, on the bright side, she didn't have to make hunting trips or steal blood bags from other vampires here. the city had been more than happy to supply those on a regular basis, so long as she was willing to stop by the hospital every so often to pick up a fresh supply crate. it wasn't exactly the thing she wanted to be doing, but... well, it was better than the alternative. which is why, on a random afternoon, caroline finds herself waiting somewhat impatiently in a line to speak with the hospital's registration desk. at least, she was waiting. the sight of a familiar profile across the hall catches her attention, though, and she sidesteps away from the line with a quiet 'excuse me' in order to get a better look.

it's not quite right. the cop uniform is weird, for one thing, and the hair is longer, and he looks older — but it's the same face. she'd never forget that face, not in a million years. brody.

the city may have rules about violence and bodily harm, but caroline forgets them almost immediately as the not-so-distant memory of being locked up and tortured by that same face floods her mind. it's the image of his face, grinning sadistically in her direction, that prompts her to speed forward, enhanced agility giving her enough of an edge to shove the unsuspecting man into a nearby examination room, lock clicking with a swift flick of her wrist behind her. )

Any last words?

( ... okay, so maybe she's not going to kill him, but she sure is angry enough to want to. )