#oliver 1

Meyra didn't want to do this. Every fiber in her body was telling her to run in the opposite direction, to pack her bags and flee this city she used to call home. But she knew this was her own mess. She had fucked up, hurting so many people in the trail of her destruction and grief. They had lost her mother and her twin, and then they lost her six months later. And she had hurt Oliver. Meyra didn't need to have kept in touch with him to know she had hurt him. Leaving him that day with only a note saying she couldn't do it anymore. Had he thought she was dead? How much pain and suffering did she cause him? Her father, her siblings, Oliver and so many more had weighed on her conscious for so long. There weren't many moments the past seven years where she wasn't haunted by the guilt of her own actions. And so she had decided to come back. Maybe not for good, maybe they'd all chase her out of town like the despicable person she was, but she still had to try to make amends. And Oliver was first on her list. It hadn't been hard to track down where he lived, just asking the right people and she got his address. Her stomach was in knots as she approached the condo building downtown, but there was no turning back. Various scenarios of what she would say ran through her head and she was running through the fifth option when the doors opened. It was a movement she barely caught, but then a familiar head of hair flashed by and she froze. All the things she had been planning to say in her head dried up on her tongue at the sight in front of her. Oliver.

Oliver Queen. Steve had heard the name, usually in passing as Tony rambled out a speech he wasn’t really supposed to listen to anyway. But then he saw it in the paper. In front of some very strong opinions. The Accords are going to destroy this nation - if not the world.

In a few simple words, Oliver Queen had spelled out one of Steve’s greatest fears. That these Accords weren’t just short-sighted, they were dangerous. They were fuel for prejudice and paved the way for hate. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in order -- he was a solider. He knew the importance of the chain of command. But he also knew that the chain could slow down progress, especially when it started to tighten around your neck. The Accords were trying to strangle the life out of this city, this country, this world. And he loved his home, he really did. 

But he was ashamed of it too. And fearful, of what it could become. 

Oliver Queen seemed to understand that. Steve wanted to speak to him, as desperately as he’d wanted to talk to the Professor. But with Charles, there was a sense of camaraderie, a shared risk. He couldn’t necessarily count on that with Queen, no matter how passionately he’d spoken against the Accords. So, to be a little more careful, he decided to approach him outside of his business, when he was alone. He waited across the street in an alleyway, watching the door carefully. When he finally saw the famous face of the CEO exit the building, Steve started to tail after him. 

‘hey, are you free now?’

Harry glances at one of the officers passing by, slowly getting more and more impatient. He doesn’t want to be here any longer than he has to, but he’s getting tired of having to describe to the cops over and over again everything he saw on that stage - which wasn’t much. He glances over at a man sitting a couple of seats over, wondering if he’s in the same boat. “Enjoying the scenery?”

“ don’t hold back for my sake ”

One of the perks of having his own building? An indoor archery range in the basement, and an outdoor one on the roof. It was freezing, but Clint knew numb fingers were no excuse. He had made perfect shots in the mountains of Siberia and Russia. So why the hell was he missing tonight?

He let loose (the arrow technically hit the outer ring of the bullseye, but outer ring?) and then the voice came from behind. Clint looked back, eyes darting over the silhouette of the stranger. “I’ve heard of you,” he said, lowering his bow, taking note of the one slung across the other’s shoulders. “Heard you stole my scthick. Just didn’t want to make you feel bad,” he joked.  

Now this kid’s outfit, she could get used to. Looking it over, it had a theme and that theme continued throughout. There was clever placement of lights and darks as well as a recurring color pattern that she appreciated. The bandages didn't faze her; quite frankly, all of the hunters and huntresses were covered in them.

boatsandthebirds

[ Ran definitely wasn’t used to this place at all, and rightfully so. She really hadn’t been there that long, and she hadn’t gotten a chance to fully get to know it. Or trust it. It was an odd circumstance, and she didn’t particularly like it. And that made it hard for her to get used to it. Everything was built on enjoyment. If she didn’t like something, how could she expect to ever get used to it?

She tried to clear her mind by training, but that didn’t work very well. She couldn’t concentrate, and ended up not catching any of the leaves that fell down. Of course, there weren’t many, considering that it was just turning to summer. It didn’t even help trying to smile. this was the oddest rut she’d ever been in, and it was strange that training didn’t help.

She’d hoped that maybe, just maybe, if she scanned the crowd, she’d find a familiar face. Of course, she had no luck with that. It was a long shot that her entire team would get sucked into this weird place with her. However, the glance of the crowd wasn’t completely fruitless, as she at least found something to do. There was a weird looking boy sitting on a bench, and Ran’s instincts kicked in. She walked over to the boy, with a warm smile on her face. ]