🏹 @legendaryfigure liked for a starter
Mia had sworn off heroes since her father died. He'd kept the truth of his identity from her all her life, and when she finally, truly, got a chance to know him, he'd chosen to sacrifice himself instead of staying with her. She knew she was supposed to be proud of that. Oliver Queen, the infamous Green Arrow, had saved the entire world. The math would never balance, eight billion people against one little girl who just wanted her dad, but deep down in her most selfish of hearts, she didn't care. He'd put the Green Arrow ahead of her for her entire life. Just once, she wished he'd chosen to be a father to her instead of a hero to everyone else.
She'd put down her bow, the suit he'd made for her tucked away in storage, and she made her living with her dad's training and her mom's brain. Blackstar was the undefeated cage fighter for Star City, but what most people didn't know was that she'd also picked up in her grandfather, the Calculator's, footsteps in cyber crime. Though cage fighting paid well, hacking paid far better, and while she took the occasional altruistic job if she believed in the outcome enough, most of that money got stored away in obscure, protected bank accounts or anonymously donated. She didn't care to restore the Queen name to its former glory; she'd continued to use her mother's surname and live in a shitty, run-down apartment building in the Glades.
That was where she was currently located, seated at the kitchen counter with her head in her hands, staring down a recently purchased burner phone like she expected it to blink first. Calling this number was a Hail Mary, she realized. Mia wasn't positive the Nowhere Man even existed, despite extensive research into the legend. Someone existed. Someone with government-level training swooped in to help people in need and vanished just as quickly, but whether or not it was the same person every time, she couldn't say for sure. He was a ghost.
A ghost might be exactly what she needed right now. Mia had thrown all her considerable talents and resources into locating John Constantine, but he seemed to have vanished off the face of the Earth. Given the kinds of occult circles he ran in, that was entirely possible. He'd done her a favor once at not inconsiderable risk to himself, helping her locate her father's soul and bring it back to his body. It hadn't mattered in the end; Oliver had still chosen to die, but Mia couldn't forget what Constantine had done for her. This wasn't even her fight. In theory, she could walk away from it any time, but she couldn't escape the feeling that she owed him this, this last tenuous connection to her dad.
Extensive research--of both the cyber kind and the violent kind--hadn't pulled up a lot of information. One day he was in London as usual, and the next he was gone. Mia didn't even know if the Nowhere Man dabbled in the paranormal, which was probably what this was, but she didn't know who else to ask. She couldn't very well go banging down the doors of Papa Midnight or Lucifer himself with only her fists and her bow to back her up. Much as she hated to admit it, she needed help.
She blew out a breath, snatching up the phone and dialing the number, 1-855-2-NOWHERE, so easy to memorize it could have been a practical joke. There was nothing funny about waiting for the line to connect though, her breathing ragged in her ear. The voice on the other end was calm and unfamiliar. There was no greeting, just a question, simple on the face of it but deeply complicated for someone like Mia, who'd promised herself she would never again lean on someone who could abanon her.
Do you need my help?
She drew a breath, holding it until she knew her voice wouldn't wobble.
"Yes."
