stardustly | au scenarios open post

They say that you can't go home again, and after five years in hell, Oliver Queen had at last returned to Starling City. That said, the saying held true, he was still far from home in his soul. He had left on that boat the son of a billionaire, heir to an economic empire that is Queen Consolidated, a playboy, and a (multiple) college dropout. He'd lost his father, and others too, in that time-span. In addition, he'd lost his whole worldview and mindset as well, everything was different. His father, before taking his own life to save Oliver, had removed the rose-tinted glasses that Ollie used to see the world through. He now knew that his father, and many others, were crooked and evil - he knew they needed to be stopped. Fortunately, five years in hell did wonders for him, and turned him into a deadly weapon. It was time the criminals of Starling City were brought to justice, one way or another...

No matter how anyone tried to prevent it, evil would always lurk around and try to overtake everything else. But good would always triumph in the end, something Clark just had to believe even if it seemed a little naive in some ways. He knew there were struggles, of course, and he wouldn't always win but it didn't matter as long as there were others to slide in and fight. He didn't need to be the shining light as long as there were others right there along with him. Now, while he appreciated others taking up the cause, there were those who did not go about things the right way. The vigilantes of the world were nearly as dangerous as the criminals they were supposedly fighting against. There had to be limits and rules or anarchy would win out.

Landing on the ground in Starling City, Clark looked around to try and find where he had been informed the 'Green Arrow' lurked. The newest vigilante and one Clark needed to check into. Things were very conflicted lately all over the place and they didn't need anyone else adding to the chaos.

It was true, Oliver the Green Arrow often went beyond what was needed. On the other hand, the new vigilante had no fancy alien or meta-human capabilities at his disposal - only a focus on justice for those wronged and to protect his home from the evils of the world he'd become all too aware of.

Superman wasn't the first to come searching for him, he was however certainly the most problematic. Most of the people coming for him were common thugs paid off by other men, or just flat out criminals wanting to keep the status quo. Upon learning of Superman entering the city, the Green Arrow decided to inspect what the man from Metropolis was doing here. He fired an arrow at Clark's feet. "That was a warning shot." he masked his voice.

While aware of the Green Arrow before the arrow hit, he remained still to see what would happen. A lot could be uncovered by a first move and often set the tone for further tactics used. Looking down at the arrow for a moment, he shook his head. Arrows wouldn't even hurt him, most weapons wouldn't. They could slow him down, of course, but he always healed relatively quick. "I just came here to talk. That's all. No need for any violence." He held up his hands as a show of the good faith, cape rippling with the breeze behind him. Vigilantes were out of control lately and the Green Arrow held onto a certain edge of violence they couldn't allow to go unchecked. If anything, they needed to be a stop to things or at least set some boundaries. Guidelines were needed for those who did not always have justice at the forefront of their mind. Retribution often created more issues.

Ollie highly doubted that talking was all Superman had in mind, "Fine, talk." he responded. He kept his bow in one hand, and an arrow in the other, but didn't currently have the arrow ready to be fired. It was true that Superman had been seen saving the city of Metropolis, but that didn't mean that Supes was a friend of his.

Keeping his hands in plain view, Clark took a few more steps forward, trying to figure out where the Green Arrow made his perch. "What's your objective here? What do you plan on doing from here on out?" The vigilantes needed to have some form of limits or anyone from off the streets would try to take justice into their own hands. It would cause far too much anarchy and Clark needed to stop it from happening. There were enough bad guys and girls roaming around to not need any added. "What are you doing all of this for?"

"Same as you, I imagine, preventing the bad guys from hurting the innocent." Ollie stated, he wasn't about to head back to the Arrow-cave, no way was he revealing its location to Superman.

Without trying to sigh too deeply, Clark swept the area to determine where the Green Arrow currently had himself stationed. A few moments later, he nodded his head slowly. "If that's all you want to do, why not come in and become apart of what we're doing? Why do everything in secret?" In actuality, the Green Arrow created a bit more trouble than he helped. The vigilante also led others to believe they could do the same, which again caused so much trouble. A danger rested with regular people running the streets and taking matters into their own hands. "You could help so much more if you were apart of our team. Your identity can still be a secret. You have my oath on that."

[ with the lingering promise of freedom right at their fingertips, Veronica quickly shoved another bag into the trunk. a tiny frown pulled at her features because she might not be able to close the trunk with all her 'essential' things. like she could help it she needed outfits for every occasion. did Reggie really need more than one bag? yanking out one bag, she decided to put it in the backseat instead, getting things all set before Reggie came back out of the house and noticed her 'situating' things. ]

REG! COME ON! [ it would be a long drive but the road trip aspect of it would be fun. one last hooray before they needed to be more serious minded students. ] YOU ARE THE FAIREST OF THEM ALL! [ if he didn't hurry he would lose the right to drive and would have to deal with her terror skills. she drove too fast for one thing and had a lot of 'road rage' for another. not really the best combination to deal with. ]

[ Ducking into a rather rundown looking building, Steve let out a relieved breath. The place looked really nondescript and would allow them a small reprieve from not only the fighting but from the constant sound of gunfire. Stripping off his helmet, Steve made his way up the stairs to have some privacy from the rest of the Commandos. He enjoyed the comradely aspect of the group, of course, but he also wanted some semblance of privacy for the first time in months.

The bedroom meeting his eyes looked as rundown as the rest of the place but it actually had a bed. Yes. Flopping back onto it, Steve let out a slow groan, toeing off his boots to let them slip off to the side and land with a soft thud onto the ground.

The scent of food rose to greet him from downstairs but he didn't feel like moving yet. He'd grab for something later. Moving onto his stomach, Steve tried to make himself comfortable, also ignoring the fact he really needed a shower and had made a greater mess of the bed. ]

[ The safety afford to him in Wakanda ended the moment he left the boundary line of the country but he couldn't stand being so secluded anymore and needed missions to take care of. He always thought of himself a soldier and needed tasks to have a direction and a purpose of some sort. The current objective being the extraction of a high level operative of HYDRA to learn the intel he had stored up. The man had deflected and Steve needed to know why before the organization managed to silence him.

Creeping through the bushes, Steve looked up at the warehouse where he tracked the man to. So, he waited for the man to move from the hideout and when he finally made an appearance, Steve didn't even have time to grab for the man before shots were fired.

Damn it.

Rushing forward, Steve tackled the man but the ensuing battle ended with him having a busted lip and the man slipping off to who knew where. Hands resting on his hips, he turned to the direction of where he heard the shots. He only knew of one person with such a deadly accurate shot and he hadn't seen him in years. ]

Come out now, Frank! [ The demand to his tone left little room for argument. ] Let me tell you all about how you ruined my extraction.

[ There are noises downstairs. The sounds of soldiers, and for a moment a panic rises in Matt until he hears their accents. There's no race to provide medical aid, however, which makes him wonder what might have brought them. Will the enemy follow? What if their presence draws attention to the little makeshift hospital?

Concern for the wounded men and the kind civilians who've taken them in, he hurries toward the staircase, only to come face to face with one of them. A tall, broad man, with a heavy step that speaks of exhaustion. Matt is moving to quickly to stop, and he tenses for the impending impact.

Except that it doesn't happen. The man goes right through him, cause a wave of disorientation and nausea that sends Matt to his knees on the stairs. On its heels is a rush of memory, one that makes him raise his hand to his face with soft sob.

He can feel the blood, but he can't see the way it paints his hand. Even in death, the injury remains. And now he remembers that this isn't a hospital any longer. There's no one here but him, and nothing he can do to help anyone at all.

Rising to his feet, he moves slowly back up the stairs and down the hall, stopping in the doorway to one of the bedrooms. The old bed creaks under the soldier's weight, and Matt wonders how much time has passed since he breathed his last in that very spot. ]

[Frank should have known where there was HYDRA to be found, some member of the Avengers wouldn't be too far behind. There are certain jobs he's sure to plan accordingly because he knows he could be interrupted by one annoying hero or another, but he didn't think a lone high level shithead would be enough to stir up the attention of Captain America... all by himself, to boot.

The shot goes clean through the bastard's shoulder, only missing because he wanted to, his next bullet meant for the man's left knee - before the goddamn flash of red, white, and blue runs right by him and gets in the way, scuffling with the man before he manages to run off. Frank watches this with disappointment through the scope of his weapon, never getting enough of a clean shot to put him down. He glares before getting onto his feet, staring down at Steve from up high on the roof of the same warehouse.]

Looks to me like you're the one who ruined it. [A scoff.] I left a trail to follow.

[ Exhaustion should have knocked Steve right out but something pickled at him and kept him awake. Raising his head from the mattress, Steve tried to figure out why it felt like there were eyes on him. Did he ever need some sleep with that level of paranoia. Huffing at himself, he pushed up into a seated position, eyes sweeping quickly over the area. There were still so many things he needed to learn but he knew how to clear a room. Climbing off the bed, he moved about the small space, reassuring himself of the relative safety. In the middle of a war zone, they would never have complete safety but the place they were currently in seemed far enough out of the way. No one should find it and storm in on them unaware.

Nodding to himself, he sat back on the bed and placed his weapons on the nightstand. The gun still felt foreign in his palm but sometimes he had to use it, which did little to help with the tally number always flashing across his mind, tearing something inside of him apart.

His head fell into his hands as he let out another deep sigh. While he felt a little hungry, he really wanted to be alone more than he needed food. ]

[ Glaring right back, his arms folded against his chest in his indignation. But the annoyance rose higher when Frank responded and accused him of messing things up. Seriously? Unsurprisingly, HYDRA struck a sensitive cord within Steve and he dealt with them a little more rash than with anyone else. The retribution always drummed within his mind but he knew he needed information to undo them from the inside out.

Cut off one head and two more grow back.

Mindlessly killing them wouldn't dismantle the organization for good and Steve knew he needed to consider his actions a little more. Frank's interference wouldn't help this objective whatsoever. ]

He has information I need and now he's in the wind. [ The glare lessened as he thought of something. ] If you help me track him down, I'll let you off and won't bring you in this time. [ Another pause. ] You always have to promise not to kill him either.

[ Matt's surprised when the man rises from the bed for no apparent reason, moving around the room like he's searching for something. Either he finds it or satisfies himself that it isn't there, because soon enough he's sitting on the bed again, and this time Matt hears the heavy clink of metal on wood. There's no mistaking that sound, and he can't decide if he's relieved that the stranger has decided he's safe, or worried that he's a risk by disarming himself.

What really gets to him is the heavy sigh. He's heard that sound before, from men being pushed near their limits. It makes him wonder where these soldiers have been fighting, what they've experienced. He would go and listen to them talk downstairs, but it's hard enough to stand there in front of one man who has no idea he's there, or even ever existed, let alone a whole group.

He should leave them all alone. Would, if he could. ]

What are you doing here? [ Matt hardly notices that he speaks the words rather than just thinking them, although they're only a murmur. What does it matter? He can't be seen, can't be touched, there's no reason to think he can be heard. ]

God, would you hold your horses, Ronnie-- I'm coming, all right, here I come!

[ Not that their positions couldn't just as easily be reversed, with Reggie impatiently honking the horn trying to rush Veronica outside... but such is not the case today. Reggie slams the door shut and practically vaults down the porch steps as he heads toward the car, a backpack and duffelbag both slung half-assedly over one shoulder.

He opens the trunk of the car and stares, unimpressed, at how crammed it is. ]

Wow, thanks. I mean, why would I need clothes, right? That's nuts.

[ But then he tosses his bags into to the backseat, too, before getting into the driver's seat. It's not worth getting upset about, though, especially not before they're about to go on the road; he has way more shit too, honestly, but he's having the rest shipped-- mostly because packing light is impossible but he does not want to make more than one trip. ]

Well, this is it. You ready?

[ More than anything else, Veronica could not wait to leave Riverdale behind with all its secrets and sudden twists of fate. They all went through so much in the town and starting over new sounded like nearly too good to be true. Could anyone blame her for wanting to start her new life? Even more so when it finally gave her the independence from her parents and the chance to make her own name for herself. The Lodges were so tarnished but this gave her the opportunity to give the name another meaning.

She would not take it for granted.

Grinning over at Reggie, she only shrugged a shoulder when he looked in the trunk. Listen, there were plenty more things to come and this happened to be her traveling light.

Sliding into the passenger's seat, she started fiddling with her phone to slide into the dock and fire up one of her playlists. She made a lot of road trip playlists specifically for the occasion. ]

I think I've been ready for years. How do you feel about leaving Riverdale?

[ Head snapping up, Steve looked around quickly to find the source of the voice. His eyes eventually fell onto a shadowy figure standing in the doorway and he wished he never bothered to find the source in the first place. It really drove home the fact he needed some sleep and quickly, going so long without had some very damaging side effects. Rubbing at his eyes, he shook his head a few times as if to clear the premonition standing in front of him.

Slowly cracking open an eye, he groaned deeply. Still there. ]

Not real. You're not real. I just need to cut back. Sleep when I claim I am and not checking out things. It's fine. It's fine. [ He rubbed at his eyes again, trying to convince himself of it all being an illusion but the voice made it a little difficult.

Hallucinations were generally soundless, right? ]

[ Giving into the madness temporarily: ] We're resting up before getting back out there.

That it's a long time coming. I've always been too big for this place, anyway.

[ In more ways than one, though he doesn't really mean literally. Big-fish-small-pond syndrome is very real, though, and Reggie knows Veronica must feel that way too; they're alike in that way.

Except she's only been in Riverdale a short time, comparatively, whereas he's lived here all his life. But still, fitting maybe that they're both going to the same school, with all that in mind.

Reggie adjusts the mirror, his seat, then starts the car. ]

Think we can make it in one day?

[ The man heard him. He heard him! Matt can't decide whether to be excited or worried, but he doesn't have to wait more than a moment for his choice to be made for him. He never should have spoken, now this fellow soldier has an even heavier burden for his mind than before. ]

I'm sorry, sir. [ He draws back from the doorway, moving carefully, as though there's any reason to be concerned about running into things. Maybe if he goes somewhere else and stays quiet, the stranger will forget about him and get the rest he obviously needs. ]

You should, though. [ Matt can't really help himself, the man sounds terrible. ] Sleep, and not lie about it. [ Because of course he's going to take advice from a-

He shies away from finishing the thought, reaching a hand unnecessarily toward the wall as he turns away. They'll all be gone soon, and then maybe Matt will be too. ]

Edited 2017-07-03 02:45 (UTC)

[ The sorry sir threw him off guard a little, not more than a GHOST in the doorway but still yet. Standing up slowly, Steve began to reach out but stopped just short of making contact. Would he actually make contact? Had he started hallucination from exhaustion? He heard plenty of stories from others about the areas being haunted by those who lost their lives in such violent ways.

Before now, he never believed in such stories. How wrong he had been. ]

Wait. [ What? Shaking his head, he motioned for the man to come back into the room. ] Uh - who are you are? What happened?

[ Talk about losing it. ]

[ Adjusting the volume on the music, Veronica looked over at Reggie with a light smile on her face. They were finally taking their lives into their own hands, which opened the way for so many different possibilities. For Veronica, she wanted to be able to do something different with her name and Reggie would eventually have some ideas of his own. The drifting feeling plagued many new college freshmen but Veronica knew what she wanted very early in life. ]

We'll make it in a day if we don't have to stop too often for you to check yourself out. [ The words were a tease and she leaned over to squeeze Reggie's thigh just in case he doubted. Others sometimes took her playful air incorrectly but she never really minded. ]

Have you decided a major yet or is my roommate going to be undecided still?

[ The stranger might not be Matt's commanding officer, but he's an officer all the same, and the order to wait carries no less strength. He can sense the man's approach, relieved when he stops short. It was an uncomfortable feeling the first time the man walked through Matt, he doesn't relish a repeat of it so soon. ]

Private Matthew Murdock, sir. 308th Infantry. Whittlesey's 77th. [ Part of the 'Lost Battalion', although Matt isn't aware of the moniker. All he knows is that the Argonne took every friend he had, his sight, and eventually his own life as well. He isn't sure how much of that to tell this man, though. ] We were pinned down holding Hill 198. I was, uh. I was wounded during the shelling.

[ The ghost of a soldier hovered in front of him and Steve felt a sickening twist of his gut as realisation dawned on him. The soldier before him had to be apart of the 'Lost Battalion' from the first world war. The injury and everything else just added up and it rose a lump in his throat. It nearly felt like a premonition in a way of how much loss he would face during the course of the war.

Who knew how long it would even last. ]

Thank you for your service. [ The words were soft and he only wished he could offer more. ] I'm sorry for - [ He shook his head, rubbing at the back of his neck. ] What year do you think it is?

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