Thread: A shot to the heart, and you're to blame... You give love, a bad name. ((Me and roseangelkoi only))

My name is Oliver Queen, and I will save this city! Inhale... draw.... aim.... steady.... release.... Oliver Queen couldn't help the slightly crooked grin that came to his face as the his newest bow a re-curve compound sent his latest modified arrow down range. The polymer was designed to shatter on a hard impact sending sharp shrapnel in a confined area around the target. He called it his Shotgun Arrow. He was sure Chain Link would come up with a counter to it. Just as he had Oliver using polymer arrow heads instead of steel ones. The Meta had been a massive pain ever since he returned to the city. The so called Master of Electricity was a prow at using electromagnetic fields. Last time they'd met, he'd used quarters of all things, reinforced with a magnetic field to block The Arrow's arrows. The worst part was Oliver knew arrogance, he knew power, and the city had yet to see Chain Link truly cut loose. Realizing he could feel the anger burning in his blood he banished it with long held practice and moving at the peak human speed, inhale, draw, aim, steady, release. The sharp crack of the arrow nailing the target again made the vigilante nod his head. He had been firing a mix of normal and fragment arrows. Learning to tell the subtle differences. While his quiver was designed to keep certain arrows separate a true master archer should be able to tell the differences between an arrow in milliseconds and adjust for them. He mostly had his arrows separated so that in a gun fight he wouldn't grab the wrong one. If that wasn't enough ever so subtle braille marks on the notch told him what sort of arrow it was. While he hated Argus, and Amanda The Wall Waller, they had shown him a lot of valuable and useful skills. Making sure your gear was ready and easily prepared was one of them. Oliver went to draw another arrow and blinked, he'd prepared a 100 shaft quiver for his training. Far too large and bulky for the field he couldn't believe he'd managed to shoot them all. The Archer let out a breath he'd been holding when he'd reached for the non existent arrow. Moving down the range. The foundry's range wasn't the best, but a hundred feet was good enough for most shots. The archer wore black exercise shorts that went about three inches past the knee, and a grey sleeveless T-shirt. Only as he undid the quiver did he realize how sweaty he was. Pulling his water bottle from his waist he took a three second drink. Then began the most arduous task of being an archer, collecting his shafts. My name is Roy Harper, and I just want to help people. To make The Glades a better place! Roy Harper ran his right arm along his forehead, fighting a twinge. Chain Link had dislocated his left shoulder the previous night. The bastard was fast, even if he wasn't using his electricity form. He was glad the Arsenal Outfit had Kevlar under the leather or he'd probably have lost the arm. He'd gotten cock, figured he could take the bastard with his polymer baton while he was blocking Arrow's arrows. Unfortunately he'd forgotten that while the man wore chain mail and what resembled plate armor he'd obviously modified it somehow. He'd been surprised then the bastard had pulled a sawed off double barrel shotgun from his sleeve and fired it both barrels one handed. In a way he was glad he was so close, since it had limited the spray and kept the shot from his face. As Oliver had pointed out their masks weren't bullet proof. Normally he'd have called in, but the simple truth was Place holder name was already cutting him slack. Club name place holder was one of the few legit jobs left in The Glades, even if it was an open secret everything flowed through the place. He knew that was why he'd gotten a job here before he'd begun his partnership with Oliver and combined the man's scary observation skills with his own street level contacts. Roy had never been a hardcore dealer or anything, but everyone who grew up in The Glades knew how it was, either you were a boss, or a bitch. He might not be the smartest, the fastest, but Roy Harper was no one's bitch. Honestly he sometimes wondered where he'd be is Grant hadn't found him when he was 12 and selling dime bags for spare cash. The Wild Cat of the Glades was a harsh task master, but he was a good man and as close to a father as the Glades local had. Roy shook his head, blaming the pain killers for his shoulder for his easily jumping mind frame. Luckily he had only one card board box full of bottles left. Roy pulled off his leather jacket tossing it over the bar, there were a few hours to opening, he had to get the last boxes moved in and the booze put away. Maybe it was the pain killers, or maybe it was the heat but Roy had totally forgotten about the Glock hand gun tucked into the back of his pants. His red short sleeve shirt and black jeans providing come camouflage but not a lot. Not that such things would draw alot of attention in The Glades, especially not in a place where gang members frequented. Roy mostly carried the iron because it was expected, plus sometimes it could deescalate things. Oliver and Diggle had both shown the former banger how to properly handle the fire arm. Sometimes Roy was tempted to use guns instead of arrows, but Chain Link shrugged off bullets like they were packing peanuts. He might look into it once the meta was locked away though. My name is Chain Link, and if I can't save this city I'll burn it to the ground! Inhale.... high block to the left.... exhale and step right foot forward, sliding left up behind, inhale.... left to right slash.... Exhale and thrust the blade both hands in the sweet spot.... Thomas smirked at the target reader he'd set up showed a fatal strike. Most people would think when the magnetic and electric scales were yours to toy with you no longer needed to work on hand to hand combat. Thomas felt that was both dangerous and short sighted. Not to mention Thea tended to get horny as fuck after spars. The simple truth was Slade's former apprentice was master or at least adequate with a number of weapons. Chain Link tended to only carry chains, a hammer, a shield, and a Gladius blade before it was easiest on him, and those were his favorites. The chains were often kept in what Queen Consolidated had called infinite boxes until he'd stolen them. The boxes held thin jewelry like chains, which formed the rough basis of his armor. Over that European knight style armor, with cloth wrapped over his torso. The metal wasn't bulky because of what he'd used to forge it, and the fact he used magnetic fields to enhance the metal. It wasn't perfect, but until he could find his sensei's location and get some of the better stuff from the black market it would work. Thomas was about to begin another kata, when the alarm on his phone went off. His two hour lunch break was rapidly ending. He tapped the Infinity Boxes and soon the chains were gone leaving him in a grey body stocking and metal plates. The plates he delt with by snapping his fingers and using magnetic fields to pull and push the straps holding it. He made a field not to clean the plates before his next night on the roof tops as he headed for the shower. Thomas was soon on his bike and headed for Smoak Consolidated. Isabella Rochev had managed to do at least one thing write and that was get him in place deep within the company's think tank. The young man shook his head thinking of his late boss, she had been an annoying bitch but at least she was a decent lay. Thomas had grown up in Star City, but with his high I.Q. had been more then happy to get out before it had gotten too bad. His father had been a Foundry worker, his mother doing odd jobs. Slade had recruited him at a martial arts tournament. He'd attended school with Oliver, not that the drunken party boy had remembered him. Honestly working at the Think Tank of a major company was a dream job, but a few months back it had become truly interesting. Felicity Smoak had approached him about one of his ideas, the beautiful heiress to the company had been surprised to realize he was not only intelligent but good looking. Since then he'd basically become the rich woman's boy toy. It amused him to see a wild side she hid from everyone. From selfies to dirty texts, even the occasional phone sex voice mail. He could tell the woman was hurt and thus applied just a bit of his whiles and released her inner beast. He pulled his bike into his spot, and headed for the V.I.P. elevator, being Miss Smoak's Personal man came with some bonuses. He made sure his tie was adjusted his slightly padded suit jacket was in place. His black framed glasses rigging with audio and video recording devices were on. Soon he was on his way to the board room, he'd be cutting it close but he figured he'd make it. Last edited Jul 5, 2018