#zechlin

" everybody's always got somethin' funny to say about the guy with the bow & arrow. " he's big-shouldered, taking up space in the room, the physicality of his skill emboldened by the wide span of his chest & the power hewn from hundreds of hours of hard work. the bow slings crossways against the quiver across his chest ; his forearms join over the hash of them, over the purple fletching coloring his suit & labeling him hawkeye.

" but nobody's talkin' about how the guy with the bow & arrow always gets the job done. "

“  not  the  most  pg  place  on  earth,  @zechlin.  the  hell’re  ya  doing  in  a  dump  like  this ?   c’mon,  let’s  bounce.  ”

@zechlin asked:

why   are   you   still   answering?

Why was he still answering. That was such a good question. Trying to go clean, but he couldn't bring himself to ignore the calls of the other rogues needing his help for something. His tiny cell vibrated in his massive hand, as he looked down to see the caller id - unknown number. Could be anyone.

But why was he doing this. Those ruby reds glanced to her, Black Alice. She was one of them, someone distant that he's helped out once or twice before.

@zechlin , tension .

his first thoughts are not for his own safety . she's right , he's completely ignorant to what tomorrow would bring , whether it be completely devoid of hell or not . bob was not in the habit of thinking on tomorrow , years upon years had been spent thinking that tomorrow could never come and he would have been happy . . . relieved ———— he has too much to care for now . the days where bob slips leave him with guilt , he doesn't want to think like that anymore . she raises his heckles , hairs stand on end at the back of his neck , caught between fight or flight . although bob trembles , there's no retreating .