#pxnchline

((OOC: This is a starter for pxnchline))

The Doctor walked out of his TARDIS and down the street.  After having set the randomizer, he wasn’t completely sure where he was, but it seemed interesting enough.

This was not on the ‘Things Oliver Queen Wanted to Do Today" list. This was the furthest thing from it, especially with his current predicament with his eyesight it being nonexistent. Oliver hissed deeply as the harlequin touched his arm, jerking away from her as they continued walking.

“Yes, don’t touch it.”

How he had gotten himself stuck in this situation with Harley Quinn, the archer had no idea. Normally the Joker and anyone under him was Batman’s territory, the emerald archer himself sticking to Starling City, his vigilante days still on the rocks. But with new times, came new changes, and it seemed that the Arrow, or now, the Green Arrow was still needed. 

That was shown when Batman called him up and asked for a favour. Even through his current disability. Which, in some ways, was good. The vigilante needed to get out, test the limits of his abilities now.

So, here he was in Gotham. A city even more crazed than any other in terms of hoods and cowls and villains and super weapons. With now what was probably a still poisoned gash on his arm, barbed wire embedded into it. Always fun when one Miss Quinn’s bat had a few extra attachments to it. Their fight was short enough, Harley able to be distracted enough for Oliver to restrain her. But not without trading a few nicks and bruises,

His sudden blindness in the past week had not stopped him, able to rely on his hearing to fight. A few people had picked up on the fact the archer had not fired an arrow in a while, but no one questioned it.

And now, The Green Arrow  was leading a restrained Harley Quinn through the alleyways of Gotham while she kept fucking poking his open wound.

Even though the herbs from Lian Yu were stopping the poison from spreading, and would for the time being, the rusted barbs still posed a pretty nasty threat. But all Oliver could do now was listen for Harley’s heartbeat and footsteps, straining for any little change that let him see if she was going to make a run for it.