#arrowmade

His eyes narrowed, taking in the figure of the boy. OLIVER QUEEN'S son. A battle of annoyance and nervousness twists itself like barbed wire around his spine. Grief and discomfort building a fort of disquiet inside his chest. 

In the next breath, he looks away. Heart steady and spine taught. His hands curled into fists under the cape. And he wonders briefly if it gets any easier when even now the mere act of opening his mouth feels like a key being turned to open the flood gates. He exhaled another  breath and pulled off his clown and stared at his late friend's son. 

[ ₁ ] What comfort could he give?

[ ₂ ] What words? 

A flash of rain and the smell of wet grass and soil interrupts his train of thought. A homily and then murmurs. He remembers what the priest said before he ended it: only the good die young. 

He stared at him again, willing the right words to come to him. Something that he's not even sure he heard himself. He walked over instead, took off his cowl to grip in one hand while he gripped @arrowmade's shoulder with the other. 

" I'm sorry, son. " 

"Should have developed telepathy, rookie mistake." Not that Kate can talk, black tie was usually her bread and butter but something about this particular party was grinding on her nerves.

Maybe it was the way several older gentlemen's eyes kept following her, and not above her shoulders. She shuddered briefly at the thought, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.

One thing whoever this guy was would quickly learn about her is that she didn't back down from a challenge. Even one not verbally said out loud. Or even insinuated, actually.

@arrowmade doubled down 🂡 — ! “Breakfast or round two? Choose wisely.”

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 — 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

Remy stared out the open window, combing his fingers through his long hair and gathering it up to tie it back into a ponytail. The people passing by down below were going about their daily, honest lives, at least he assumed they were honest. He wondered how many of them were like him, dealt a hand in life where "normal" wasn't an option. Normal—he'd laugh at the word, what it really meant was ordinary, predictable, homogenous...

Apparently Roy didn't care much for normal either, or he just wanted the company, regardless of who it was.

When the other man's voice came in through the doorway, Remy turned his head, expression perplexed. One was hopefully just out of plain kindness, the thief was a known heartbreaker for a reason.

❝ Don't you people ever take a break? ❞ Tigress asks as she dodges an attack. ❝ You're making my job harder than it needs to be. ❞

it  wasn't  the  first  time  nor  the  last  where  matthew  went  out  on  a  date,  but  it  surely  was  the  first  time  he's  entertained  the  idea  of  a  blind  date.  all  of  them  were  unseeing  for  him  of  course,  but  this  time  it  was  nothing  like  what  he  was  used  to.  no  small  talk,  no  actual  conversation  beforehand,  no  plan  ───  just  a  date,  hour  and  set  meeting  to  test  waters  between  the  two.  the  devil  briefly  knew  who  he  was  going  to  meet  at  the  bar  but  the  other  person  wasn't  probably  informed  of  him  as  much.  he's  dressed  himself  more  casually,  with  a  turtleneck  and  a  trench  coat  hanging  low  to  the  ground.

the  door  clicks  open  and  the  bar's  bell  rings  as  he  sinks  in  and  settles  within  the  atmosphere.  so  many  voices,  whispers  and  heartbeats  hit  him  at  once.  merely  uncomfortable,  but  he  was  quick  to  tune  himself  out.  the  walking  cane  taps  his  way  in,  settling  himself  near  the  counter.  the  problem  was,  matthew  had  no  real  indication  if  his  date  was  even  here.  there  was  no  sound  he  could  remember  to  at  least  pinpoint  him  in  the  right  direction.  well,  at  least  he  very  much  hoped  he's  the  only  ginger  in  here  to  make  it  easier. @arrowmade

“it’s not you, necessarily,” ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎huntress finds herself countering, obligated to append as means of clarification ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎— and to not let the underlying tension of work stress spill over into the internal team dynamics. ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎“i personally prefer subtlety in my humour, and ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎—‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ well, how should i put it?”

‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎observation, as she’d name it, has always come in handy; as useful it is to push people’s buttons with utmost precision, arsenal doesn’t warrant that ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎— or even bring the worst out of helena as dick tends to. it is noise, to be more apt, that bothers her; and she finds it her job to remove what is unnecessary so that the team doesn’t have to carry on any more baggage than they have to.

‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she knows she aims best when she’s focused ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎— and she’d like that for roy, too, especially when nightwing is hardly likely to give either of them clarity before the next lunar eclipse.

"I know I teased you about the lonely housewives before but can we maybe stay on mission?" He'd dragged her all the way there, fancy dress and the promise of being able to use her new knives, but now all they seemed to be doing was chatting.

“room for one more?”

Having recently cleaned out his bathroom and having moved things around, James had found out that he had forgotten to move back his bottle of shampoo back - but only when he had started showering. With a grumble and not a care about turning off the shower for one moment, he stepped out, quickly making his way over to the cabinet to grab what he needed before he made his way back just as fast. Only as he was almost fully back into the shower did Roy's voice reach him, and the soldier peeked out of the shower again, his free hand pulling wet strands of dark brown hair out of his face.

A small chuckle left him as his hand came to rest against the side of the door, a brow raising.