#Jo was right to saying no to Laurel she didn’t love him she will never love him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

habibialkaysani · 4 years

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the devil in star city (laurel/nyssa; t) - part vi

Ships: Laurel/Nyssa, Laurel/Joanna

Summary: “My name is Laurel Lance. When I was eight years old I was in a car accident that left me without sight. But in the process, my other senses were heightened.

By day, I am a defence attorney, ready to fight for justice in the courtroom on behalf of those who the law has failed. By night, I am someone else. I am something else.

I am Daredevil.”

A/N: Welp! I would say I can't believe it's been over a year since i updated this, but, uh, to call 2020 a complete and utter nightmare of a year would be the understatement of the millennium, let's be real. If you're still following this fic, I hope you are keeping as well as can be during these troubled times.

Please note that Laurel's alcoholism in this chapter is explored and talked about quite a bit, so fair warning for anyone who might be triggered by talk of addiction.

Read at AO3

Laurel's stomach growled in complaint as she lay on her bed, reading the braille version of The Complete Guide to the LSAT. It wasn't exactly light reading, and Laurel, so immersed in Legal Theory, couldn't quite remember if she'd had lunch, so she was thrilled when she caught a whiff of the aroma of pizza.

Nyssa had to be maybe a couple floors down. Sure enough, a few minutes later Laurel heard the door click from where she'd left it open.

“Got the pizza,” Nyssa said as she entered the dorm.

“Nyssa Raatko,” Laurel said, shutting the book with a grin, “my hero.”

“You’re the one who's intent on trying to save the world. Why else would you be spending your afternoon poring over books when you could be wreaking havoc on campus with me?”

Before Laurel could reply, though, there was another voice. "Sorry - hope I'm not interrupting."

Laurel hadn't heard Jo coming, for once not anticipating her familiar footsteps - and for good reason. Joanna should have been en route to Star City by now, surely.

Ever the gentlewoman (or flirt, it was hard to tell with Nyssa), Nyssa placed the pizza box on the bed and stayed on her feet.

"Not at all," she said, extending her hand to Jo to shake. "I'm Nyssa. You must be Joanna. Laurel's told me so much about you."

Joanna chuckled. "I bet she has. And… everything she told me about you seems to tally up."

There was no reason for Laurel to be flustered, not really, but she was, in a way, unnerved by how her best friend was clearly sizing up her girlfriend. Laurel got hurriedly to her feet. "Hey, Jo. Did you forget something?"

"Yeah, my criminal procedure notes. Just didn't realise until I got to the train station."

Quickly Laurel reached behind her and found a sheaf of papers underneath Joanna's pillow. "These, right? We were going over them last night." There was a rustling sound as Jo took a look through them. Once Jo made a small sound of assent and began to unzip her backpack, Laurel moved towards Joanna and called back over her shoulder. "Nyssa, I'll be back in a minute, okay?"

"Sure."

At least Jo had the good grace to wait until the front door clicked shut behind Laurel before she said anything.

"Dinah Laurel Lance," she said, sounding half-amused, half-impressed. "Always did know how to pick 'em."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning, she's hot, and so are you, so you two are a match made in heaven!" Laurel didn't say anything at first, mostly just relieved that the momentary awkwardness between them was indeed momentary. "I mean," Jo tried to backtrack, "all the, uh, girls must love that. And I am so glad the days of me being your wingwoman are over."

"You have to admit, you've never been very good at it," Laurel said. She hesitated, wondering if she should say what was on her mind, but she then remembered that Jo had a train to catch. "You'd better go. You're gonna be late."

"Uh-uh. A train can wait. My best friend looking like she was going to say something important - that can't."

Laurel felt a surge of love for Jo then. "You know I'd follow you off a cliff, right?"

Joanna patted Laurel's cheek. "Damn right I do. Now, what's on your mind, Laurel?"

"I guess - you're talking like I'm gonna be with her forever."

"Don't you want to be?" Laurel wanted to say yes without hesitation, but again, something was holding her back. Jo sighed, then said, "Okay, look -"

"I can't see," Laurel said, and though exasperated (Jo had surely heard that one a dozen times by now) her words still elicited a laugh from Jo.

"Listen, then - when you first told me about her, I thought it was just… you know, one of your - conquests, or something."

"Or something," Laurel agreed.

"But seeing you with her now - I realised something. You know, aside from being gorgeous as hell… she wouldn't look at you like that if she wasn't head over heels in love with you."

The words "she's not in love with me" were hot on Laurel's tongue, but they faded and didn't quite make it out of her mouth. "I - how does she look at me?"

"Like she can't believe her luck," Joanna said softly. "Like you're too good for her but you choose to be with her anyway."

"I'm sure that's not -" Laurel started to say, but Joanna cut across her, probably more sharply than she intended.

"Uh-uh. Remember, rule number one in Jo's Dating Handbook -"

"- the teacher is always right," Laurel said, shaking her head in exasperation. "Whatever." Nevertheless, Joanna's words left Laurel feeling suitable chastised.

"And remember rule number seventeen. For the love of all things holy - and I know that shit is important to you - try not to screw it up."

Laurel nodded. "Understood." But then she reached out, tugged at Jo’s sleeve. "This whole sage relationship advice, did you ever think about taking it?"

Joanna laughed and slung her backpack over her shoulder. "Not even once."

Chuckling fondly, Laurel opened the door to her dorm, where the smell of pizza grew stronger.

"Everything all right?" Nyssa asked, as Laurel slowly sat back down on the bed. Laurel knew, from the way the bedsprings creaked, that Nyssa had assumed Laurel's position, lying on her front, the pizza box instead of the LSAT book open in front of her. "You were out there a while. I was wondering if I had to start without you." And as if on cue, Nyssa's stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly. "Oh, I bet your bat ears loved that."

Laurel tried to sound annoyed, but she didn't quite manage it, the corners of the mouth twitching into a grin despite herself. "They're not bat ears."

"Super ears," Nyssa suggested, and for good measure she reached out and tweaked Laurel's earlobe.

"I kind of regret telling you about this," Laurel said, and they both shared a chuckle because they knew perfectly well that that wasn't true. Laurel had never been able to talk about this with anyone - bar Lia, that is, and it wasn't like that had ended well. "Now, give me my pizza." Nyssa obliged, passing Laurel a slice. "Oh yeah," Laurel said through a mouthful of mushroom and olive pizza, "that's the good shit right there. Jo - she's always so boring with her pizza choices. Always goes for margherita."

There was quiet for a moment as they both ate, and then Nyssa said, "Hmm. Surprising when she strikes me as the adventurous type."

"She is, just in weird ways."

"Like what?"

"Like when she took Punjabi just because some girl she liked was taking it too. Not that she was great at it. But that's kinda what I love about her, to be honest."

"Did you two always get along?"

Laurel laughed. "Oh yeah. When I first got here, she was already in the dorm, enrolling into her classes, and I came in, introduced myself. Turned out she was from the Glades too. She grew up there, same as me. She - she heard about what happened to me, as a kid."

"What did she say?"

For a moment Laurel paused. "It wasn't too different to what you said when I told you what happened."

Now it was Nyssa's turn to laugh. "She said you were trying to save the world?"

"She said I was a hero," Laurel said slowly. "She said that was how she knew who I was - how everyone in the Glades knew who Laurel Lance was. The kid who put her life on the line to save a stranger."

"You don't agree?"

"I don't know. Did I even save him? I don't know. I don't remember. And it's not like I willingly chose to get blinded to save some random guy - it's not the same, it just happened, and it's not like I saved my -"

But now Laurel broke off, unable to finish her sentence with the sudden lump building in her throat, and instead she busied herself with finishing her slice. Nyssa didn't say anything, thank God, just kept eating. There was silence, the unexpectedly comfortable kind, interrupted only by the sounds of chewing, and the ripping of pizza as the two of them demolished what was left in the box, the quiet chuckles from both of them when they reached for the last slice at the same time. Laurel smiled as Nyssa got to it first, even more so when Nyssa tugged the slice in half and gave the larger piece to Laurel.

After flinging the empty box somewhat unceremoniously onto the floor, Nyssa shifted forward a bit, until her head was buried in Laurel's lap.

"She fancies you, you know," Nyssa said, just as Laurel began to stroke Nyssa's hair absentmindedly.

"What?"

“Joanna. She clearly has a thing for you."

"What makes you say that?" Laurel asked.

"The way she looks at you."

"If that were true - and I'm not gonna be the best judge of that - would that bother you?"

"Oh, not at all."

"You're forgetting that I can hear your heartbeat, Nyssa," Laurel said, twirling a few strands of Nyssa's hair with her fingers. "Are you really jealous?"

"Maybe a little," Nyssa admitted. "You must understand, relationships aren't exactly - my thing. It is simply not how I was built. This is new to me."

"They're not really my thing either," Laurel reminded her. "Listen. She's my best friend and I love her to pieces. But my bed is small enough as it is. I think there's only room for you."

"Okay." For a second Nyssa paused, and then she chuckled. "I never envisioned myself as the jealous type."

"With me - it's more that I never saw myself as the serious type. Serious enough to make someone jealous, I mean."

Laurel's words were greeted with silence as Nyssa took that in.

"And now?" Nyssa asked finally. "Has anything changed?"

"It's not like we've been together long -"

"I've not been together with anyone before," Nyssa interrupted. "Not really. Apart from you. And that was not what I asked, but I get it. I do. Letting someone in… that's scary. Especially for people like us."

Slowly Laurel let out a sigh of relief, as some of the trepidation that had been building up within her at Nyssa's every word started to dissipate. "People like us?"

"Come on." Nyssa was smiling - Laurel could hear it in her voice. "We hide from ourselves. We don't let anyone get close to us."

"You. I let you get close to me." This was Laurel's moment. She could say it, say the three little words that were practically on the tip of her tongue. Laurel could say what she felt like she had to say, both with a certainty she could feel in her bones and with the startling realisation of the truth: Laurel loved Nyssa.

This wasn't the old cliche of falling in love at first sight - that had never been befitting of Laurel. No, what she had with Nyssa was more like walking in love with her. Laurel usually kept people at bay, and usually the only one within arm's reach of her was Joanna. But with Nyssa - Laurel could feel herself walking steadily towards her. She had been drawn to Nyssa from the start. And now the distance between them was closing, each step Laurel took felt all the more thrilling and terrifying, in equal measure.

If their relationship was a painting, things were looking good for them - there wasn't an end in sight, they were still in their early stages, of sketches and backgrounds. But to make that canvas beautiful, a great work of art, rather than a good one that would fade into mediocrity or obscurity - that required bravery. To make a good thing great, Laurel knew she needed some bold strokes.

"Nyssa, I -" But of course Laurel couldn't get the words out, and in that moment she felt her mouth go so dry it was like she was tasting cotton wool on her tongue.

"Are you okay?" Nyssa asked, her hand moving to cup Laurel's cheek.

"Yeah," Laurel managed to say. "I, uh, I'm just tired, Nyssa. Sorry. I'm gonna - I'm gonna get ready for bed."

"I can go, if you want." Nyssa didn't sound upset - just confused, unsure, and suddenly Laurel was thrown even more off balance.

"Please don't," Laurel said, and it must have come out desperately, but Laurel was hit with this overwhelming feeling of just wanting to be held and nothing else. Taking Nyssa's hand, Laurel squeezed it. "I asked you to come over, remember? And I - I want you to stay. Please?"

To Laurel's relief, Nyssa answered her with a kiss. "Of course. The things I do for you, dearest."

"Thank you," Laurel murmured, getting to her feet, and she couldn't help but smile as Nyssa followed suit, rummaging in Laurel's drawers for mere seconds before unearthing one of Laurel's t-shirts.

Later that night, Laurel sat bolt upright in her bed, jolted unexpectedly from her dream, only realising when her hand met her damp hairline that she was drenched in sweat.

The sound that woke her was a siren. She could hear it now, stopping and starting several times before the noise spluttered to life and assaulted Laurel's eardrums in relentless waves. It was too loud, everything was too loud, and even as Nyssa stirred vaguely next to her, Laurel wasn't in the present anymore - her dream had thrust her forcibly and uncomfortably into the past. The sirens grew louder, even though she could no longer hear the grind of the police car's engine, instead the clamouring of ambulances and the constant beeps of a hundred different machines. It was like she was a kid again in the hospital room with her comatose father, the shirt he fought his final fight in still clutched in her hand -

"Laurel?"

Gasping, Laurel realised from the ache in her neck and pain in the back of her head that she had fallen off the bed, and it was only then that she came to. Nyssa was by her side in an instant, trying to take Laurel's hand, but Laurel kept pulling away.

But Nyssa didn't let go, simply holding on tighter, and then pulling Laurel to her feet.

"Can you walk?" Nyssa asked softly.

"I - I think so."

Laurel was a little unsteady, but she managed it, only realising from the gentle pressure that Nyssa was leading her to the door. "Where are we going?"

"The roof," Nyssa answered. "I think you told me once that it's got one hell of a view."

It was a bad joke, but Laurel chuckled nonetheless.

"In the middle of the night?"

"Just figured we could get your mind to be elsewhere if we are on top of the world for once. You and me."

Laurel was silent, but she let Nyssa lead her up several flights of stairs. By the time they got to the top they were both panting.

"This view - better be worth it," Laurel said breathlessly.

"Oh, it is. The stars are fucking gorgeous tonight." Nyssa was already at the edge, and Laurel joined her a second later, leaning against Nyssa, who had brought up a blanket that she draped over Laurel's shoulders.

"If you wanted to know what that was -"

"You had a nightmare," Nyssa said calmly. "Happens."

"You're not gonna ask me why I -" Laurel broke off, though, because she wasn't even sure what to say.

"Laurel, I learned weeks ago that if you wanted to share something with me, you would do so in your own time. Not when I demand it." At first Laurel didn't say anything in reply, and when the silence stretched on for a minute longer, Nyssa added quietly, "If it helps - the sirens keep me up at night too, sometimes. I can… only imagine how much that problem is amplified with you. Literally."

Laurel shook her head. "It's not just that. I mean - that's part of it. All that noise brought back shitty memories."

"Of the accident?" Laurel must have looked surprised, because Nyssa's hand crept up to touch Laurel's cheek with an unexpected softness.

"Not the accident. I've just been - dreaming a lot. About when my dad died."

"He was murdered," Nyssa said - and there was unexpected bluntness in her tone.

"Yeah." Laurel's voice was small, and she wondered if she wanted to go on, or if she could.

"Did they ever catch the bastard who did it?"

"No. Never. I went after him once - Dan Brickwell is his name. But he went underground after my dad's death. Haven't heard about him since."

"Let's hope he's six feet under, then."

"Amen to that," Laurel said savagely, but instantly when Nyssa caught Laurel's had with her own, Laurel softened a bit. "Hey. I'm sorry, by the way."

"What on earth for, my love?"

God. Laurel didn't know how Nyssa did that - how she managed to be so casually and unabashed affectionate in her words, without sounding scared even for a second.

"I know I talk about heavy shit a lot. Sometimes it's all I talk about -"

"It really isn't," Nyssa interrupted. "And even if it is, you're allowed to talk about what traumatises you, because often that's all you can think about. Especially now. Especially with me."

"You're wrong," Laurel found herself saying.

"What?"

"You're wrong about my trauma being all I can think about. I mean - for a while it was. But now… now I have you."

"You can have me as many times as you like," Nyssa whispered silkily.

"I know that," Laurel said, and they shared a laugh. "But I meant that you're all I think about nowadays, Nyssa Raatko. I mean - you get under my skin like no one else ever has. You get me. And I've - probably told you more in the little time that I've known you than I've told anyone in my life before." I Laurel held her breath, waiting for the gentle fall of Nyssa breathing out, but it seemed like Nyssa too was waiting for the other penny to drop. "I guess… what I'm trying to say is - maybe, I think - I might love you."

Laurel wasn't sure what to expect by her sudden confession, or what brought it on in the first place. Maybe it was the cool air fanning against her cheeks, the fact that the trip up the stairs let Laurel expel some of the pent up adrenaline that was disturbing her sleep, or the comfort she felt in Nyssa's body heat under the blanket they shared.

But it still took Laurel aback when she felt a feather-light kiss on her forehead, then her nose, and then one that lingered on her lips. Laurel could taste Nyssa's smile, and if she were more optimistic, she could have anticipated that, just not the words Nyssa uttered next: "Maybe I might love you too."

Several times Laurel opened and closed her mouth without managing to say anything, and when words failed her she grabbed a handful of the t-shirt Nyssa was wearing to kiss her hungrily. She got what Nyssa meant now, about being on top of the world, because that was how she felt taking Nyssa Raatko's breath away, and Nyssa, lifting Laurel off her feet, kissed her back, all of it quietly witnessed by the stars in the heavens above them.

"Do you think that's crazy?" Laurel said eventually, her voice soft and wanting as she finally pulled away. Her lips were tingling, Nyssa's sharp intake of breath making Laurel's heart soar into the night skies. "I just - never thought I'd be that girl, you know? I thought being in love only happened in books and songs. But I am." Laurel smiled. "God knows it. He has for a while."

"So you figured you'd let me in on the secret, huh?"

"Something like that." For a moment Laurel paused, as another siren sounded - but it was a little quieter this time. More distant. Laurel was grateful for that, for the height they were at, that meant the wail that often echoed in her head faded a bit. Her head was a bit clearer, thankfully.

"Mostly I was worried about what you'd say, when not even two months ago we were complete strangers… that it would scare you. Like it scares me. And that you'd - leave. Like people usually do with me."

"I fear nothing about the two of us." Laurel's scepticism must have shown on her face, because then Nyssa caught her hand with her own and placed it on her chest. "Listen to my heart if you must. You know it's true."

And of course Nyssa was right - the thud of Nyssa's heartbeat was steady as ever. Unexpectedly Laurel wrapped her arms around Nyssa, hugging her, burying her face into Nyssa's neck. "Thank you," Laurel said softly. "For sticking around. For not running when you could have."

"If I'm running anywhere, it's with you," Nyssa replied, tucking Laurel's hair behind her ear. "I mean that. You're all I think about too."

"Nyssa Raatko, are you getting soft on me?"

"Maybe," Nyssa said, "but you'll never be able to prove it. Even when you're a hotshot lawyer."

"You really think I'll get there?" Laurel asked, and a little bit of the floaty feeling Laurel had felt since Nyssa said those words back to her began to drift away.

"I know so."

"You can tell the future now?"

"Of course I can. And I see a great one for you. And for me, after we get married…"

"You think that will be legal by then?" Laurel asked as they began to head across the roof to the stairs that would lead them down, eventually, to Laurel's dorm.

"... and we raise our kids behind that wonderful white picket fence -"

"God, please, no, Nyssa. You know you'd die in the suburbs."

"Sure, but you'd make an excellent mum. Though for everyone's sake, and their health, we should leave the cooking to me…"

"I'll have you know I can make an excellent macaroni cheese -"

Their good-natured bickering continued even as they took off at a run down the stairs, the blanket swishing like a cape on Laurel's shoulders. When they got back to Laurel's dorm, they collapsed on the bed together, sweaty limbs entangled.

It didn't last that long, only a few golden hours, but it was enough at the time for Laurel.

***

A couple days later, it was once again the middle of the night. She didn't quite know how she got to where she was, cradling a bottle of whiskey with her back against Joanna's closet door - Laurel couldn't remember even getting out of bed, actually. She just knew, as it hit her, all at once, that she was going to bite the bullet and launch herself well and truly off the wagon.

It was different, she told herself, from falling off the wagon, which Laurel thought sounded more accidental or unintentional. No. Laurel knew what she was doing and what she was walking into, and the phantom urge to follow the smell of booze and walk into a bar, or rummage through the stash Laurel knew Jo kept in her closet, grew stronger day by day. And in that moment she sat in darkness she knew surrounded her but couldn’t see. Slowly, she contemplated the conundrum she held in her hands in front of her, for the question really was to drink or not to drink, and she didn't know the answer. Laurel was not altogether surprised to hear the rustling of bedsheets and the sound of getting to her feet. Laurel waited, held her breath as she listened to Nyssa's soft footsteps on the rug -

"Laurel?"

"Why are you awake?"

But Nyssa ignored the question. "Are you planning on drinking that, or did you buy the bottle just for you to cuddle?"

Despite herself, Laurel couldn't stop the fleeting laugh from leaving her mouth. "You're saying that like you want me to."

"No," Nyssa said calmly. "I'm asking if you want to." She paused for a second. "And maybe why."

"What about you?"

Nyssa scoffed. "You know I do not care for alcohol."

"No, I mean, why? What's stopping you?"

"I suppose it is a cultural thing. Some practices just stick with you for life.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean where I come from… we viewed intoxicants with disdain. That and - I know that if I am constantly inebriated and dependent on it, that will affect my judgement, my memory, even my choices. Besides which - I despise the smell of alcohol. It is most unpleasant to me."

"I hate it too," Laurel admitted.

"But -"

"I know, I know, how can I be addicted to something I don't like? It doesn't make any sense. Like - I don't want to take so many steps backward that I'd be right back where I started. But I also - I need it."

"Need what?"

Laurel knew what she needed, and it wasn't an AA meeting or a hurried phone conversation with her sponsor - at least, in her head, all Laurel could think about was the burning feeling of whiskey going down her throat and exactly how much she craved it. She was thirsty for something, anything, that could fill this sudden, gaping hollow of sadness in her soul. She needed something to patch over the nicks of uncertainty in her heart.

"You know when you get a paper cut? And you wait to see if it bleeds, and sometimes it's just a tiny thin red line, but it stings like hell, so you -"

"- you squeeze it," Nyssa said suddenly. "Or you press on that bit of skin and make the pain worse for a second because…" But now, Nyssa trailed off, and it was the silent understanding that passed through them as Nyssa knelt by Laurel's side.

"This is pain I need, Nyssa." Laurel thought of her father, of the blood that covered her fingertips when they reached his chest, the deathly smell that lingered beneath her nails for at least a week after he died. "This is the pain I deserve."

“That’s not true.”

“How would you know?” she shot out bitterly, but she felt bad instantly. She edged further back and was surprised Nyssa didn’t come closer.

“I don’t need to hear your heartbeat to know when you’re upset about something,” Nyssa said - and she did so in a whisper so quiet that only Laurel would be able to hear. "Tell me what's wrong." A pause, and then, Nyssa added, "Please?"

"It's nothing," Laurel insisted, but she was already softening: she held out her hand, lowered her defences just enough to let Nyssa in. "I just - yesterday was March 5th. When my dad died. And I forgot. How could I forget something like that? How - how could I be so caught up in my life that I -"

"You're human, that's why. Despite what I may say about your super hearing," Nyssa said, gently tweaking Laurel's earlobe and finally getting a laugh from Laurel, "you are a mere mortal. You forget things, and then you remember. You have temptations, vices - and you find the strength, somehow, to resist them. And you look at yourself and think the worst because you see only your flaws, but then…" Laurel sighed at the feeling of Nyssa's fingertips, feather-light against her cheek.

"Then I find a beautiful girl at a party and ask her to dance," Laurel murmured. "No, I know. But it's more like - too much shit piled up.”

“I don’t follow.”

“There’s something else. About my dad’s death. The man who ordered the hit -"

"Brickwell?"

"Yeah. I heard on the radio while you were out getting stuff for dinner that he… he got out on a technicality."

"I thought you said your dad's murderer was never caught?"

"He wasn't. Brick doesn't get his hands dirty when he can avoid it. He was only in for a weapons charge, and even then they couldn't make it stick with the appeal."

"So now he's free?" Nyssa asked. Laurel just nodded hopelessly.

"I got my hopes up, Nyssa. I thought that maybe the system did work. That the law would do what it was supposed to do, that there might actually be justice - even if not directly for my dad then for him being a - a -"

"A complete and utter piece of garbage?" Nyssa suggested helpfully.

"That’s an understatement. I just felt so helpless. And it got me thinking about what my dad would think, of me, of what I'm trying to do with my life. What he died for. If it was in vain when even now it seems like I'm fighting a losing battle." Laurel didn't realise until then that she was breathing shakily. "It got me thinking about whose fault his death really was."

There was silence as Nyssa took this in, and there was no mistaking the incredulity in her voice. “Don’t tell me you actually blame yourself for his death?”

For a moment, Laurel didn’t say anything, simply moving her hand to enclose Nyssa’s wrist. Then, Laurel said, “Okay, then. I won’t.”

There was more silence, and for a second Laurel’s grip slackened on Nyssa’s arm, until Nyssa took hold of her hand with both of hers and pressed a kiss against her knuckles. “I’m afraid I still don’t understand.”

“I told you he was killed. I never said why.” Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Laurel tried to collect herself, but the next words came as a sob. “It was because of me.”

She expected Nyssa to make excuses for her, in a futile attempt to absolve Laurel of the sins that haunted her. But Nyssa didn't do that. “How?” she asked instead, and her tone was level, steady, just like her heartbeat.

"I overheard him once. When he was training in the ring and I was doing my homework - someone came to talk to him, wanting to fix the fight. And my dad -" Laurel's voice cracked for a second, and this time when Nyssa made to put her arms around her Laurel didn't stop her. "- my dad was Larry Lance. Always broke as shit, a single father, with a blind kid who needed expensive braille books. He had very few options. So of course he agreed. And on the night of the fight… he was getting ready, telling me not to wait up, and I -"

"Oh, Laurel."

"I told him what I heard. I couldn't believe my dad was going to cave to the gangs in the Glades when he was always telling me I could make it a better place. And I got angry at him, Nyssa. I said he was being a hypocrite, that - one of the last things I said to my father was that he wasn't as brave as I thought he was. And because he listened to me… because he didn't lose like he agreed to - he paid the ultimate price. So it is my fault."

"So what?"

"Excuse me?"

"I don't think it was your fault, Laurel. But clearly you do. And I don't get to tell you what your truth is - I just want to know how you think you're going to find the answer to your guilt in that bottle."

"I'm not looking for an answer. I'm -" Laurel searched for the words, finally settling on, "I have a lot of rough edges. A lot of that is guilt. The booze smooths them over a bit."

"You say that. But you know that it won't last. And later down the line you'll have even more of the guilt for succumbing to something you've fought off for a year." Nyssa hesitated for a moment, then said, "I know I never met him, but - you're strong, Laurel. Stronger than you know."

"You say that, but we tied last time we sparred." Laurel knew she was deflecting again, but she couldn't help it - her heart was aching and she felt rubbed raw with vulnerability. Nyssa seemed to sense this, cupping her cheek and running her thumb down Laurel's jaw.

"My guess is that you were raised to be that way by your father. But also - the strongest metal is forged in the hottest fire, after all, and you found strength in the face of adversity, Laurel, and it's one of the things I love most about you." Laurel couldn't stop her smile if she tried now.

"I wanna be brave, Nyssa. Like I told my dad to be. I just don't know how."

"About your father… do you want to talk about him?"

"Do you really want to know?" Laurel asked doubtfully.

"Laurel. Darling. First off, daddy issues are definitely in my wheelhouse."

"You and me both, sweetheart."

"And second - you should know by now that I would gladly listen to you reading the Constitution if you really wanted to talk about it."

Laurel smiled, and as Nyssa got to her feet, Laurel did the same. She turned, opening Jo's closet door and placing the bottle back inside. Nyssa was waiting for her, and on impulse Laurel kissed her, taking Nyssa by surprise.

"What was that for?" Nyssa asked softly.

"I love you,” Laurel whispered, “for everything that you are. And for not giving up on me."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

“That makes one of us.”

“One day it’ll be both of us.”

They got back into bed, Laurel's arm going around Nyssa's waist and pulling her close.

"So, uh, did you wanna start with the separation of powers?"

"Separation of what?"

"Separation of powers into three branches of government?" Laurel said teasingly, and Nyssa made a few sounds of confusion. “I thought you wanted me to talk about the Constitution?”

“Oh, that’s what you were talking about!” The thing was, it sounded like Nyssa wasn’t even kidding, and that made Laurel laugh. "How about I tell you about my family, and you tell me about yours?"

Come to think of it, Laurel didn’t know much about Nyssa’s family at all - just that she had a sister and that she was adopted. She wanted to know more about the woman she loved.

"Deal."

Tagging: @prett-ybird @mysunnyonesotrue @unusual-raccoon @avasharpe @light-miracles @nyssalance @saraa-lancee @nerd-spikey @i-should-be-asleep-probably @bioft @flyingofftoneverlandforgood

#lauryssa #laurel x nyssa #laurel lance #nyssa al ghul #arrow #arrow fanfiction #daredevil au #mattelektra au #mine #my fic #otp: dinner's on me #fic: the devil in star city #alcoholism tw #addiction tw

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raywritesthings · 4 years

Text

Bird in a Storm, 10/17

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Laurel Lance, Oliver Queen, Quentin Lance, John Diggle, Helena Bertinelli, Raisa, Joanna de la Vega, Ted Grant, Female OCs, Male OCs Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: The confrontation between the Hood and SWAT on the roof of the Winick Building goes differently, altering the course of Laurel’s career, relationships and efforts to save her city forever, the shockwaves of such an altered path making themselves felt throughout her family and friends. *Can be read on my AO3, link is in bio*

So far, so good, Laurel kept telling herself over the next week. Mr. Khan and his shop remained unharmed, those thugs hadn’t made any reprisals or found her out, and the police hadn’t come knocking on her door. She was in the clear.

But the clear wasn’t good enough. One night wasn’t good enough. If she was going to make any real difference in the Glades, she was going to have to keep on with it.

Time to get serious.

It was hard knowing what to do or how to proceed outside of just saying she would to herself, though. After all, even if she didn’t really want to imitate the Hood in all matters, she had to admit Ollie’s vaunted list gave him an itinerary. The best she could hope for would be to wander around and wait for crime to happen. Not that that was a far-fetched prospect in the Glades.

But she couldn’t just stand around at night in a ski mask, either. That would give people the opposite idea of what she was going for. So then, maybe some updates to her look were in order.

She reflected on this as she entered the thrift store. Ostensibly, she was grabbing some things for the approaching warmer weather, but she wasn’t above browsing around for ideas. Was a scarf too Western? Would it fall off too easily?

Beside the clearance racks where she’d picked out a new shirt was a small bin labeled “free”. Maybe she wasn’t absolutely destitute, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a look through.

Most of it was clothes that were completely out of season, not to mention fashion. A toy car that was missing one wheel and a few ugly patterned scarves were also in amongst the clutter.

Her thumb snagged an elastic band and she pulled out a black domino mask. Probably discarded from some Halloween costume. Laurel studied it for a moment, then slowly lifted it towards her face.

It’d be less sweaty, and easier to breathe in. Cheap as this one was. Maybe it’d be better to save up and make her own. She’d continued practicing hand-sewing during the slow hours at work, in the event that she might develop small holes or tears in her clothes that could be patched up instead of thrown away. And hand-stitching had other uses considering what she was planning.

Laurel left the mask in the bin and took her other purchases up to the register, mind still racing with ideas.

She’d need more than a mask to conceal her identity. But she didn’t want a hood. If she was doing this, she didn’t want to be seen as only some lackey of Oliver’s. This was her own mission, her own way.

A head covering in general would limit her visibility plus make her stand out pretty readily. She needed something discreet. Laurel didn’t have fancy arrows with lines attached that could pull her up the side of a building in moments. She had to be able to make a getaway, even in a crowd.

She needed to look like a woman.

It was so simple when it hit her. So long as she could be any woman — just some woman, with great hair and a body — they would never bother to see past the mask. She just had to not look like herself too much, that was the key. Dye was too permanent; a wig would disguise her hair better.

Over the next week she made the necessary purchases, each at a different shop and in cash. The important thing was not to let it be traced back to her.

As for weapons, she looked into something she could carry on her person. A baseball bat was way too conspicuous for a woman in her twenties to be walking around with. Eventually, she was drawn to a collapsible bo staff. She’d seen staffs hanging on the wall at the Wildcat Gym and knew Oliver used them for sparring practice with Mr. Diggle. It was a weapon she felt comfortable using with some practice, which she nudged a reluctant Ted into.

“I just want to try different things, you know?” She’d said with a casual shrug. “No point getting pigeon-holed.” Losing her job as a lawyer and realizing she had no real backup plan had taught her that the hard way.

She went out the first night she got all her gear together, knowing if she hesitated that she would find a way to talk herself out of it. The long hair of the wig swishing around her shoulders was a familiar weight. With her hands shoved in her jacket pockets — one hand over the staff and one hand over the mask, she walked around, watching and waiting.

Only she didn’t really find anything, other than a few catcalls. The next day, she saw there had been a reported mugging halfway across the Glades from where she’d staked out.

It was like this over the next few nights. She wasn’t where she needed to be or she’d get there just after she was needed. It occurred to her that this was probably why Oliver tended to stick to his list; it was full of ongoing problems he could investigate and then decide to attack in his own time.

She didn’t have the luxury of a base of operations or the ability to get into and out of high rises safely, though. And she wanted to be on the ground, handling the problems Jerome and Mrs. Ross had talked about. The problems she saw every day. She’d just have to get lucky.

The next night, she did.

The only gas station in the Glades was hit up for a robbery just as she was passing by. Laurel caught the flash of a gun out of the corner of her eye through the store window and quickly ran to the wall, flattening herself against it to get a better look. Two men, one pointing the gun and the other shoveling money from the register into a bag. They weren’t even bothering with ski masks, just hats pulled over their hair and jacket collars popped.

She glanced up at the security camera pointed at the front door. Its light was off. It wasn’t on, or perhaps it had never been plugged in.

Laurel got out her mask and extended the staff.

The door banged open as she stood and landed a hit low on the first man’s legs just as he ran out. He toppled over, his face smacking into the pavement. His partner in crime stumbled over him right into her fist, falling back against the wall. Laurel wrenched the gun out of his fingers and took note of the safety. Still on. The clip was empty. She shook her head.

“Who the fuck are you?” The guy on the ground spat. There was blood on his lip.

“Just someone in the neighborhood.”

With two hits of her staff, they were both knocked unconscious. She picked up the bag of cash, opened the door again, and tossed it towards the counter at the clerk, who was watching with wide eyes. Laurel didn’t wait for a response, knowing her priority was now to get as far away from the scene as possible.

Her heart pumped with adrenaline as she fled several streets away, a wide grin stretched over her lips. She had done it, and it still felt great. What did a few boring nights matter if every so often she could manage something like this?

Of course, it began to take a toll on her schedule. She woke up later, didn’t have near as much time before work to get her day started. She saw the few friends she had less.

Joanna took it the hardest. “I’m not gonna see you at work when I go back, Laurel. And sorry, but you don’t have the excuse of being too busy to have a social life anymore. So do you just not want to be friends?”

“It’s not that, Jo. Never. I’m just… trying to work out some things. Figure out where my life’s going.”

Her friend had scoffed over the line. “Well let me know if I’m still in it.” She’d hung up shortly after.

It was easier now to see things from Oliver’s point of view; how he’d tried to maintain relationships without letting slip what was really going on in his life. It made her miss him fiercely.

They hadn’t talked much since after Mr. Merlyn’s hospitalization. Ostensibly, they still weren’t supposed to be friends, after all. And Laurel hesitated to reach out to him about her new nighttime activities; something told her he wouldn’t approve.

Well, that wasn’t Ollie’s job to approve or not, so it was simply better for the both of them if she kept it to herself. He had enough on his plate seeing as the Hood was still going out at nights, taking on the elites in this city.

She was just doing her part where she could, making sure the people he was trying to help got that help sooner rather than later. It was his upbringing, she knew, that caused him to see things the way he did. The big picture instead of the small.

Laurel would aim to improve things from the bottom up while he continued to work from the top down. Maybe they’d meet somewhere in the middle someday.

She did her best to brush aside that sort of wishful thinking. It would be silly to think after everything that there was any sort of future for them. She didn’t even know what future there was for herself.

But as long as she could do something good, she would keep going.

---

Anita was starting to wonder if her Avó had been right about coming to live in Brazil. These past few months in Starling had been crazy.

It wasn’t as if she hated it at Avó’s either. She loved the cooking, loved the weather, loved the language. The only trouble would be, as always, money. Jerome wasn’t near fluent enough in Portuguese to find good work, and she couldn’t be too sure of it herself. They were just getting by in the States, and as long as that was enough for them she’d be happy to stay.

She’d gotten lucky. While other girls had been chasing after gangbangers and potheads in school, her Jerome had gotten a job to support him and his grandma. He’d always been the responsible type.

His grandma had passed three years ago, and the medical bills and funeral arrangements had put a strain on their finances, enough to convince them to sell the old house to a developer and start renting. A real estate agent had assured them the Glades was going to start gentrifying and that they’d be able to get a good price.

Only the sale hadn’t yielded as much as they’d hoped, so they’d remained stuck in the Glades instead of moving to a better, safer neighborhood. It didn’t bother her so much right now. But in a few years when they might have kids on the way? She wanted them going to good schools, not the poor excuse for school she and Jerome had attended.

They did their best to save, but there was always something coming down the pipe they weren’t expecting. At least they didn’t have a car. The repairs would be killer.

There was always crazy stuff going on in Starling City these days, too. Ever since some guy had decided to become a souped up Robin Hood last fall and take out his anger issues on a bunch of rich folks. As long as he kept it to them, Anita didn’t mind so much. For the first several weeks or so, it had created a buzz of conversation through the neighborhood. This guy was trying to change things, maybe. And in some cases he did. Here or there, people got their money back.

But the wealthy were good at consolidating what they had. Companies transferred from corrupt CEOs to corrupt board rooms, money disappeared before it could be returned to the right owners. And this guy liked to drop bodies. That part, Anita wasn’t so keen on.

Because there were people getting more violent in the Glades now, too. Drug dealers, young and angry men unsupervised by the old mob hierarchy. This Hood didn’t seem to have a backup plan for any of that.

Jerome was frustrated by it far more than she was. “I mean, did we ask this guy to come here and fight for us? Stir up trouble? Did he come talk to any of us, see what we wanted?”

“No, he didn’t,” she dutifully agreed before bringing out both their dinners. She kissed him on the cheek as she went around him. “But it’d be hard for him to ask around without giving the game away, huh?”

“Yeah.” Jerome dug into his food and there was quiet from his end of the table for a while. “You know, the guys are saying there’s some woman out there now.”

“A woman?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Well, good for her.”

He grinned. “You like that? They’re saying she’s a real, how’s it go — right, gata.”

Anita arched an eyebrow. “You gonna leave me for her?”

He kept grinning. “Never, baby, you know me better than that.”

“Then she can be as good-looking as she wants.” Anita pushed her plate aside and came over to him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. “I don’t mind.”

At work, she started hearing the rumors, too, over the next few days. “Nobody knows where she came from,” said Lanh in hushed excitement as they stood one sink apart. “But she gave a man following my roommate home a black eye the other night.”

“No kidding?”

“Yeah. It’s cool, isn’t it?”

No killing, dealing with stuff in the neighborhood. It was like someone had come in and asked around or sat in on their talks, then decided to make all their wishes and hopes come true in the form of a lady in black leather. Seemed crazy, but that was life now.

She stopped by next door to see Laurel, wanting to get her opinion. After all, wasn’t she here because of her support for vigilantism in the first place?

Only when her neighbor answered the door, it was clear she’d only just finished stitching up a nasty cut on her arm.

“Ooh, honey, what happened?”

“Just a work accident. Shears, you know?” Laurel let her in and hurriedly cleared up some bloodied napkins. “What’s up?”

Anita decided to leave her questioning behind. “Just wanted to see if you were free. We should have a night out, you know?”

“Okay, your place or mine?”

Anita waved a hand. “I was thinking a little more exciting than that. They’re saying the Verdant’s finally opening.”

Laurel raised both eyebrows. “Are they?”

“Mm-hm. Wanna check it out?”

“I don’t know…”

She leaned over the counter towards her friend. “Come on. Nights in only feel better if you go out sometimes, too. Variety’s the spice of life.”

“It’s going to be packed,” Laurel pointed out. “We’d be lucky to wait in line for three hours before getting in.”

“Couple of good looking girls like us?” Anita grinned. “Besides, you know the owner.”

Her friend shook her head. “Oliver and I aren’t that close anymore.”

“Right, which is why you call him Oliver and not ‘Queen’ or ‘my cheating bastard of an ex’,” said Anita. “Come on, billionaire boy owes you a million favors, so why not call one in? It’ll be fun. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

She watched Laurel debate it for a few minutes. “Alright. But if he says no, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He said yes, clearly, because Laurel sent her a text that afternoon saying what time they should be there. No mention of a cover fee either, which was interesting. She’d have to meet billionaire boy herself to be sure, but if Anita’s intuition was any good, she’d say Oliver Queen was still pining away for her neighbor despite his cheating past. So Anita would be happy to drink his booze and help her friend kick him to the curb if need be.

They walked to the Verdant together, skipping the line entirely by going through a back door Laurel had been told about. A man just about shorter than Jerome but beefier greeted them inside. “Laurel.”

“Mr. Diggle. This is my neighbor, Anita.”

He nodded to her. “Pleasure to meet you, miss.”

“You too. Swanky place,” she said, getting a good look around as she took steps further in. The bass was already vibrating in her bones.

“Um, if you could pass on our thanks to Oliver. I’m sure he’s very busy tonight,” Laurel was saying.

“I’m sure once he’s finished showing his family the place that he’ll be making the time. Mr. Queen’s been doing some re-evaluating lately. But I’ll let you enjoy your evening.”

“Re-evaluating?” Anita asked as they left the man to head out onto the main floor.

Laurel shook her head. “Let’s not get into that. I think our first drinks are on the house.”

The drinks were excellent, it turned out. Here and there they met a scant few familiar faces, and Anita introduced Laurel to them. She couldn’t help noticing that most of the patrons clearly weren’t from around here; too many Rolexes and real jewels on wrists. Looked like the gentrification had finally begun.

“I’m going to get us another round,” she spoke loudly into Laurel’s ear. Tonight wasn’t for thinking those kinds of things. It was for just letting loose and pretending life wasn’t so crap sometimes.

As Anita returned with the drinks, her pace slowed. There was a woman with dark hair standing behind her friend and gripping Laurel’s arm tightly. Anita ducked around a couple chattering away to get closer without drawing attention to herself.

To her surprise, Laurel seemed to recognize this stranger. “Helena?”

“Laurel, good to see you. Almost didn’t recognize you,” said the woman.

“What do you want?”

“Nothing personal, but I heard about your fall from grace. Must’ve stung when you realized Oliver wasn’t really there for you. He never is.”

“Let me go, Helena.”

“Sorry, but you’re my insurance policy. We’re going downstairs to wait for Oliver, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll come quietly.”

Anita had just about heard enough. She looked around frantically for the security — they were either at the doors or far against the walls and couldn’t see them out here in the throng of people. So she did the next thing she thought of.

“Hey!”

The woman turned towards her direction just in time for Anita’s drink to splash in her face. She staggered back, gasping in shock.

And that was when Laurel sprang into action.

Anita had been planning to take her friend’s arm and run for it, but Laurel’s arms were moving and the woman was down on the floor in seconds, her arms pinned behind her back. She kicked out with both feet, heel gouging Laurel’s leg. Laurel gave a grunt that was only barely heard over the music, sitting on the woman’s thigh hard.

“Hey!”

“What the—”

“Is it a fight?”

“Yeah! Awesome!”

There was a small crowd growing around them, and Anita felt herself pressed between people on either side. Laurel’s arm bore long scratches while she held the woman’s head in a lock Anita could swear she’d never seen outside WWE.

“Excuse me! What’s going on here?”

Anita’s eyes bugged out as suddenly Oliver Queen cut through the crowd on her right. His eyes widened for a moment before he plunged in and grabbed Laurel around the waist, pulling her off the woman. Once she was set down behind him he yanked the other woman up as well, pulling her towards the exit.

The man who let them in before took Laurel’s arm and guided her after them. “Come on, Laurel,” she thought she read off his lips.

Anita rushed after them.

Oliver Queen was shouting at the woman named Helena when they all got outside. “If you ever come after someone I care about again—”

“My father—”

“Is no longer your concern! You do not have any business in Starling, Helena, and you will stay far away from here. Or else.”

Helena’s eyes flashed with anger, but she stalked off into the night.

“Wow,” Anita breathed in the silence. Oliver Queen looked a little surprised and discomforted to find he had an audience.

“Um…”

“Figured it was better for appearance’s sake if both parties caught fighting were escorted out,” Mr. Diggle said.

“And she’s my friend, so I’m sticking with her,” Anita added in explanation.

Oliver Queen nodded before turning to Laurel, one hand touching her arm. “Are you okay?”

Laurel shrugged. “Just fine.”

“What were you thinking?” He asked next. “Helena is dangerous—”

“So I was supposed to let her take me hostage?” Laurel finished for him, eyes narrowing.

“She’s a killer, Laurel.”

Anita’s eyebrows rose at that.

“And I had it taken care of. She was hardly going to kill me if she wanted to take me somewhere.”

The two of them were in each other’s faces, close enough to share the same air. She doubted either of them noticed.

“If something had happened—”

“It didn’t. Can’t you focus on that?”

“But it could have!”

“There’s no point to wondering what could have been, Ollie! Believe me, I’ve tried!” Laurel turned around and started marching away from him, the effect ruined somewhat by a slight limp.

Oliver Queen sighed. “Laurel, wait. Let Digg look at your leg.”

“I’ve got it.”

“Then let me call you a cab. Please.”

Laurel paused, and Anita took the opening. “We’ll take a cab, yeah.”

Laurel fixed her with a frown.

“Honey, you’re bleeding.”

A few minutes later, they were bundled into a cab and leaving the Verdant. What a night out. Jerome was never going to believe this. She’d heard the odd thing here or there since Laurel had moved in and knew of her gym classes, but damn, her friend was a brawler when she wanted to be!

They were halfway home when it hit her. “Shit, that was mob girl, wasn’t it? Huntress or something? She was the one going around whacking her dad’s people.”

Laurel sighed. “Yeah.”

“Okay, then billionaire boy might have a point. Cause they were saying that girl was nuts, you know? Not somebody to get mixed up with.”

“Wasn’t trying to, believe me. But I’m not going to go along and let things happen to me anymore, Anita. That’s not who I am.”

“Probably a good attitude to have in this town. Maybe I should pick Capoeira back up,” she mused.

“Capoeira?”

“Afro-Brazilian fighting style. I took classes after school for a bit, like the Irish girls that do line dancing, you know? There was a place down by our old laundromat. Wonder if it’s still open.”

“We could take a look together. If it’s okay for others to learn,” Laurel added after a moment.

“Sure, but aren’t you busy as it is at that gym?”

Laurel shrugged. “I could make time. And anyway, we’d get to see each other.”

Anita smiled. “Alright, we’ll check it out. But after that leg of yours is better. You’re gonna need it in good condition, believe me.”

They got out in front of Laurel’s and Anita helped her into the house, insisting she help get the leg cleaned up at the least. “You got something to numb that?”

“Not really.”

“Tell me you don’t have work first thing tomorrow.”

“I can manage.”

Anita pushed her hair back. “I mean, what did that bitch want anyway? Why’d she try to take you somewhere?”

Laurel shrugged, her eyes on the floor. “She dated Ollie a few months back.”

“Oh.” Jealous ex to the extreme, then. “You need anything else?”

“No, you should get home.”

“Okay, well just text me, alright? Get plenty of sleep.”

“I will, Anita.” Laurel stiffened when Anita leaned in to hug her. It took a moment for her friend to relax in her arms. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Anita let herself out so Laurel wouldn’t have to get up right away. The younger woman still seemed a little stunned; she suspected Laurel had been the big sister and minder to so many people over the years that she’d forgotten what it was like to have someone looking out for her for a change.

She and Laurel signed up for an intermediate class after they both tested into it; her because of her prior experience and Laurel because she was already quick on her feet. Anita could tell the class was going to kick her butt and complained to Jerome about it for hours as he rubbed her feet after the first lesson.

“Guess someone was a little jealous of that woman in black after all,” he teased.

“Yeah, just you wait. My legs are gonna look fantastic. You’ll be picking your jaw off the floor.”

As the days went on and there were more growing rumors of this woman in the Glades, she felt herself newly inspired. When women looked out for each other, it made the neighborhood all the better.

Though the more she heard and the more she watched Laurel’s determined look in their classes, the more the mysterious woman seemed less like a stranger, and more like someone she knew. Crazy as that sounded.

---

Quentin had taken to keeping an ear out for crimes in the Glades. It both increased his blood pressure and soothed his nerves, because the amount of criminal activity coming out of there was unheard of. But so far, his daughter hadn’t been mixed up in any of it.

Statistically, he worried it wouldn’t last. But what could he do? He’d raised her to be fiercely independent, and his initial bad reaction when Laurel had perhaps been at her most vulnerable ensured she would never take his charity. He was lucky enough that she was still speaking to him, especially after he’d brought her mother over for a truly appalling attempt at reconnecting.

He still wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He couldn’t blame his estranged wife entirely for what had happened to Sara; it wasn’t as if she could have known what would happen out at sea. Bitterly, it occurred to him that by the same token, he couldn’t blame Queen then, either. Even if the man himself believed it, he hadn’t killed Quentin’s daughter.

Even more distressing, perhaps, was how much and how little Queen and Dinah had done to try and make amends with Laurel respectively. Where Queen had been nothing but repentant, Dinah had given excuses. She hadn’t even seemed to truly grasp what she had done wrong until Laurel had spelled it out to her.

She’d left a couple weeks ago, shaken and doubly discouraged when Laurel’s old friend at the Chinese embassy had confirmed the girl in the picture with the Rockets cap wasn’t their baby girl. Just another young woman who had bought a baseball cap on any ordinary day. He hadn’t given Laurel that news yet; he suspected she’d already guessed.

He picked up and then set aside the photo on his desk with his two girls. In some ways, he felt equally distant to them these days, though he knew he was kidding himself. The damage he’d done to his and Laurel’s relationship was entirely his own doing, not a random act of nature. He should stop wasting the time and make amends.

“Got a situation on 7th and Shane Street,” an officer announced to the bullpen, snapping Quentin out of his reverie. “Might need a couple detectives, cause we’ve got witnesses.”

Quentin stood. “I’ll go.” 7th and Shane was right in the heart of the Glades. He didn’t think it was all that far from that flower shop, come to think of it.

He drove over to find a bus pulled to the side of the road. It didn’t look to be damaged any. The driver and a few passengers stood around, the latter group all waiting for rides. A few men lay on the ground, welts on their faces and black eyes starting to turn into ugly bruises as they were cuffed by the officers. He ducked under the police tape and walked over to the group of witnesses.

“Alright, can anyone tell me how this whole thing started?”

“It was the hijackers,” a man near the back mumbled.

“The what?”

“The hijackers, man.” He was nudged by a woman at his left, probably a girlfriend or wife. She eyed the gun at Quentin’s belt warily. He carefully reached for a notepad and pencil to keep his hands occupied with that.

“And who are these hijackers?”

“They’ve been hitting the buses, usually on payday, sir,” the girlfriend spoke up. “Part of a newer gang.”

“Uh-huh. Was the SCPD informed of this?”

There were murmurings. Everyone too afraid to say yes. He frowned.

“How long ago did this start?”

“Little after the Bertinelli mob fell, sir.”

“It’s been horrible. They take everything you got. Money, jewelry, smartphones. We’re sitting ducks the whole route home!”

There were a bunch of voices shouting at him now, all wanting to be heard. One woman’s voice in particular stuck out amongst the group thanks to its heavy accent; an older woman in a housemaid’s uniform under her coat.

“They wanted my chotki,” she said, showing them all a black rope with many knots and beads in a few places, tied in a cross at the end. “It is wool and wood, what could they want with that? They were brutes. But she saved us.”

“She?” Quentin asked, stepping towards her. He thought he recognized this woman. Wasn’t she one of the Queens’ people?

Scarcely had he thought it before Oliver Queen himself came running up to the yellow tape. “Raisa!”

“Mr. Oliver!”

Just his luck. Quentin headed over as Queen lifted the tape to let Ms. Raisa out. “Just a minute,” he called.

Queen turned back to him. “Detective Lance, I came here to make sure Raisa got home safely. She’s been through enough for one night.”

“She’s not in trouble. I just need her to finish her statement. Now, who is ‘she’?”

Ms. Raisa shrugged. “No one really knows. They call her ‘the woman’.” She smiled warmly. “I believe tonight she was an angel.”

“Right,” he said.

“Was that everything, Detective Lance?” Queen asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, alright. Get her home.”

The two of them left, Queen leaning down to ask his housemaid a question Quentin couldn’t hear. He turned back to the group which was gradually starting to disperse. There were no useful additions other than someone saying a woman showed up a few minutes after the hijackers forced the bus to pull over.

The Hood. Now the Woman. Just great. Why had this city all of a sudden decided to go nuts?

He swung by Laurel’s place on his way back to the station and knocked. No one answered after a minute, but the light was on. He knocked again, louder.

“Just a second!” His daughter called out. She wrenched the door open in leggings and a blue tank top. “Dad! What are you doing here?”

“Can’t I visit my daughter?” His bravado covered his nerves, but relief was his primary emotion as she stepped back to let him inside.

“Were you on a call somewhere?”

“Yeah. There’s been some trouble with the bus routes. You don’t ride those often, do you?”

“Just to visit Joanna at her mom’s. Or to get downtown if I needed to.”

“Yeah, well stay off them at night, alright? There’s been gangs hitting them.”

“I know.”

That drew him up short. It occurred to him that these days, Laurel perhaps had an even more advance warning on crime in the Glades than he did. All the more reason to hate this arrangement.

He watched with narrowed eyes as she lowered herself onto her couch with a wince.

“What’s wrong with your back?”

She stiffened and winced again. “Oh, just work. I was lifting a lot of mulch bags today.”

Quentin shook his head. His poor girl had always had a willowy build. She was delicate, even if he’d made sure she knew how to defend herself in a tight spot. “You’re not meant for this kind of work, Laurel. We gotta find you something else.”

“This is doing me fine. Besides, I’m pretty sure to get law work, I’d have to leave Starling.”

“Shouldn’t have discouraged you from taking that corporate job in San Francisco,” he muttered.

“Well, I’m glad you did,” she told him. “I’m glad for the help I was able to give people at CNRI and for the help I can hopefully still give people here.”

He sighed. “Hopefully. You know, you can do anything you set your mind to, honey. I really do believe that. But what’s your plan here?”

She smiled. “I’m figuring it out, dad. I promise.”

He left soon after, since he was technically still on the clock at the precinct. Laurel told him she would head to bed shortly to rest up, and he made a note to grab some of those icy hot packs for her at the store. He thought he could play it off like an overdue Christmas present to get her to accept them. Hell, he owed her enough Christmases and birthdays from the last five years he could probably supply her through next March. If she was still breaking her back doing this work by then.

Laurel wasn’t the only one who needed a plan. Quentin had been keeping an eye on Daily in the close to two months since he’d been back on the force. There were no obvious slip ups, but he could just tell there was something off about the man. Call it his gut. Now with this bus hijacking situation having been swept under the rug for as long as it had been, he was starting to wonder just how many of his own people he could trust.

Was it genuine malice or just apathy for a neighborhood that saw enough hard times already? He wasn’t sure which was worse at the end of the day. But it was causing unrest, causing more and more people to turn to alternate means to seek justice.

By the end of the week, they saw an example of the worst of it; some guy in the subway tunnels committing extrajudicial killings and calling himself the Savior. The Hood had been forced to put him down to save the likes of that kid Harper. The Hood at least seemed to understand that vigilantes couldn’t be allowed free reign of this city, even if he continued to operate in it.

So he finally made the call.

Quentin stood out back behind his apartment building, the vigilante phone in his hand. He didn’t want to be anywhere near the precinct when he made this call. Just thinking about if someone caught him in the act — maybe Daily, maybe Hall with her earnest regard for the law — had his hands shaking.

“Detective?”

“Yeah, listen, we gotta talk. With everything going on in this city, with the force, I’m having trouble deciding who to trust. Now I don’t trust you,” he wanted to make clear. “But you’re a known quantity. I know what you want, what you’re willing to do.”

“And how does that help you?”

“It helps me because I think there’s some people on the force I can’t trust, and I don’t know what they want either.” Could be money, could be they felt threatened, could be they were always rotten. “Now I know you’ve figured out how to spy on us. I need you to tell me who’s on the take.”

“It’s not something I was concerning myself with.”

“Well start concerning yourself with it. You want people to stop popping up like this Savior or this Woman, it starts with law enforcement being a trusted and respected institution. You can’t tell me you expect things to magically stay better whenever you finally decide to hang that hood up?”

There was a long pause. “I’ll look into it, Detective. Keep the phone on you. I’ll call.”

Then the line went dead. Quentin breathed in and out once and headed back into his building. He hadn’t exactly done anything wrong. He’d simply pointed out an issue the Hood had likely been tangentially aware of and asked him to direct his attention towards it. Whatever happened after… well, maybe he was partly to blame.

Would Laurel ever call him a hypocrite if she found out about this or what?

#lauriver #laurel x oliver #laurel lance #oliver queen #arrow #green arrow #black canary #my writing #bird in a storm

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samclownchester · 4 years

Text

The day is June 15 2020

The time is 3 am

The situation is that the world has fallen into a pandemic of Covid-19, and my job closed down in March, leaving me with lots of time on my hands. Despite my doubts, I fell back into Supernatural, deep into it, and I am now rewatching it. I thought it would be fun to try and see how much I could remember from earlier seasons before I watch them all

I have watched up to 1x14 at this point, so those episodes are fresh in my mind, but lets see what else I remember

Season 1

“Dad’s on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days”

“Saving people, hunting things, the family business”

Sam’s girlfriend dies just like his mom did

Their dad is the point of the season but is only actually in like 3 episodes

Sam and Dean break up but get back together

Sam has VISIONS and moves things with his MIND

Meg is a demon, Sam has a bit of a crush on her

They find their dad, but don’t kill the demon

colt

Season 2

Dean dies in a car crash, John sells his soul for him and dies

Bobby Singer is best dad

Ellen and Jo and Ash exist

Purple Nurple

Gordon?

Lots of psychics! Sam can make friends??

Jk, it’s the hunger games

Sam gets stabbed in the back

Dean sells his soul for him

They kill Azazel I think??

“I have … demon blood in me?”

Season 3

Saving Dean from his demon deal

Groundhog day episode where Dean dies everyday

Gabriel?? (trickster)

Blonde Ruby (let’s hear it for Laurel Lance!)

Very short because there was a writers’ strike that year

Hell hounds

Season 4

Dean was “gripped tight and raised from perdition” by Castiel

Sam has a new gf! (Surprise, it’s Ruby in a new body! :o)

Why does she pretend to not know Dean when he first shows up? Is she lying to Sam about who she is this whole time?? Hmmm I wish I remembered

Time travel?? (Sam doesn’t get to come ☹ )

Demon blood

Demon blood detox ☹

Let’s kill Lilith

“Because it had to be you Sam”

“The boy with the demon blood”

Season 5

Dean is the Michael sword

Sam is messed up, trying to quit demon blood

Cas rebelled, and he did it, all of it, for Dean

Adam Winchester is a person who exists

Also I think this is the season with Jesse the antichrist who never shows up again it’s fine.

He only existed so they could have important conversations about nature vs nurture which honestly they should’ve just saved from when Jack was born but they didn’t know that was gonna happen

More time travel??

Future

Cas likes drugs

Team Free Will

Samifer

Fall into the cage

Dean goes to live with Lisa and Ben

The end?

Season 6

Cas is working with Crowley and spying on Dean but not talking to him like the pining idiot that he is

Dean can’t help but inspect monster happenings in town

Soulless!Sam

Dean finds Soulless Sam

Hanging out with some old dude?

Get Sam’s soul back

Meet Death?

Find out Cas is working with Crowley

O: Ultimate betrayal

???

Season 7

Leviathans

Godstiel?? Why?? Idr

Hallucifer

Please give Sam therapy

Sam goes to an asylum

Cas takes Sam’s trauma??

More leviathans

Dick?

Charlie!

Kevin!

Garth? Did we know him before. Idk, we know him now

Dean and Cas go to purgatory!

When does Cas die and walk into the lake? That’s before they go to Purgatory, right? Hmmmm but how does he come back

Cas is Emmanuel and has a wife? Is that in this season?

Season 8

Dean gets out of purgatory!

But no Cas

Sam had a girlfriend and a dog! Nice!

Not nice, he ignored Kevin and didn’t look for Dean

Like they agreed on, but whatever ok sue him for trying to be happy

Dean has a vampire boyfriend

Not so high and mighty about killing every monster are we now, huh Dean?

Right? I don’t remember, this is a conversation that happens though

He does end up killing Benny though, doesn’t he? huh

Cas is back from Purgatory! But he’s got Secrets ™

“I’m gonna become a hunter”

Then he stays in the old folks home and next time we see him he’s all wacky and likes to watch the bees?

Megstiel

You’re just playing sorry

Am I right?? I don’t remember, but all of this happens at some point

Who even is the big bad? What are we fighting? Idk

Oh we have to save Kevin from Crowley and he reads the demon tablet. Only eats hotdogs, doesn’t shave. I love him please keep him safe.

Spoilers, they don’t

Right! The trials, Sam does the trials, they “purify” him

The angels fall, but Sam doesn’t complete the trials and almost dies.

Season 9

Sam almost dies, Dean is like “right, nonconsensual possession is clearly the best answer for this”

Human!Cas, he drinks lots of water. Steve.

§ “you can’t stay here” :o

Abaddon I think?? What was the point

Crowley is sort of our friend now and I think we meet Rowena? Idr

Kevin dies ☹

“What is the upside to me being alive” – Sam

§ Maybe in this season, maybe not. Who knows?

Cas is a cannibal (eats grace) and becomes and angel again at some point

§ Hannah exists

We all hate Metatron

Cain??

Metatron stabs Dean and Sam puts his dead body on the bed

Demon!Dean

Season 10

Demon!Dean and Crowley are living it up!

Sam and Cas try to cure Dean

Charlie and Rowena interact a lot I think

Book of the Damned

When did they find the bunker? Men of Letters? All that? Idr, anyway they have it at this point

Dean kills lots of people

Charlie dies ☹

Dean blames Sam which is unfair and I hate it

They get the mark off and The DarknessTM is release

Season 11

The Baby episode exists

Really weird sexual tension between Dean and Amara while she’s still kind of a child, no one knows why. Please stop.

Cas gets called expendable and then makes poor life decisions

Lbr, though, Misha is the only other one who can play Lucifer with the same spirit as Mark Pellegrino. Sorry Jared, it’s the truth.

Eileen!! <3

Chuck is God :o

Let’s kill Amara!

Except we don’t kill her, she just needs to bond with her bro.

Here, have your mom back

Season 12

Mom????

British Men of Letters

Lucifer F*cks

Boy I didn’t think this would turn into what it did, let me tell you

Winchesters escape from Federal Prison

Cas says “I love you”

But like, the plural you. No homo.

Sam admits he lost his drive to lead, then finds it again and leads hunters against the dang brits! Hooray!

Oh shoot Lucifer wants custody of his kid!

FIGHT

Fatality – Castiel

Fatality – Mary

Oh no wait she didn’t die she’s just trapped.

Season 13

Jack jack jack jack jack

3 dads, all at various levels of dadding

Actually 2 excellent dads, one dad who is too emotionally damaged to dad but he tries sometimes

Yeah Cas pisses of a cosmic entity. That won’t come back to bite him

Jack just wants to be good

Wayward sisters was not picked up which sucks

Apocalypse world

Rowena is our friend now

Custody Battle!!! Who wins? Not Lucifer

We saved the day! And a ton of people

Literally they made a whole deal of the people being like “We won’t leave our home or our cause” and then they got back to Sam and Dean’s world, didn’t have archangel grace and were just like “meh, actually this place is cool. We don’t have to worry about going back”

Psych! We’re not done yet! Luci wants his kid

And Michael wants his planet

Season 14

Michael! Dean

Jack dies

But it’s ok, we fixed you, just don’t use your powers

Oh shoot he used his power

Nick is somehow alive

In love with Lucifer

Burn his ass!!

Oh Mary disapproves

RIP Mary

RIP Dean being a father, now he’s gonna murder

Hi Chuck, nice of you to show up

Oh no.

Season 15

Chuck sucks

Dean and Cas break up ☹

Sam has visions again

But he’s not psychic, it’s just the piece of his soul inside Chuck

Resurrect your girlfriend! Yeah!!

Jack is eating hearts, but it’s ok, Death told him to do it.

Garden of Eden?

Get your soul back boy!

And cry

Honorable mentions (Aka these happened but idr when)

Sam falls in love with a werewolf and then has to kill her and MAN Jared really brought the tears

AU where Supernatural is a TV show

Finding out Supernatural is a book series and the author is Chuck!

Crowley becomes helpful mostly

Crowley has a son??

Meet grandpa

Ellen, Jo, and Ash die

Bobby dies

literally everybody dies

Kill Hitler

They meet that Jewish guy with the Golem who pretended to flirt with Dean at some point.

Jimmy Novak was a devout man who deserved a lot better than he got

Claire Novak is so cool

She moves in with Jody

When do we meet Jody? She’s just always kinda been there?

Gabriel, I don’t remember anything about Gabriel

The council of the Gods’ happens and then I think Gabriel dies in that episode?? Idr

The Four Horsemen

Death, Pestilence, War, Famine

“You’re not hungry Dean”

I literally do not remember what was happening with these guys

Also, they killed Death, killed a reaper, that reaper became the new Death. I remember when all that happened I just didn’t feel like putting it in the timeline.

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content-to-convert · 4 years

Text

VIDEO DIDN’T KILL THE RADIO STAR...

VIDEO DIDN’T KILL THE RADIO STAR it just made him dress nicer

By Pat Mellon

Speaking of your brand evolving, PODCASTS are now a wise bullet to have in the arsenal of promotional weapons. In the early 2000's, for instance, you didn't have the option to record and distribute a PODCAST. The technology didn't exist to even IDENTIFY, much less create one- if you typed PODCAST into an email in 2002, it would have been flagged as a misspelling.

But now, thanks to Audioblogging, re-branded as PODCASTING thanks to the iPOD, you can reach a targeted captive audience in a car on a long commute, with content that they've actually sought out. It's essentially a radio infomercial for the lifestyle of your product, without the PAID-PROGRAMMING aftertaste. Plenty of people have been slow to warm to the idea of such self-promotion and have waited to see if the technology and its effectiveness sustained or if it waned, the way QR codes did, or video discs did until the invention of the DVD. It can be an amazingly powerful part of your brand.

Many rejected podcasting, as I did initially, as a waste of energy. In fairness, early on when there were no networks for podcasting and its business model was less focused than now, it smacked of self-congratulatory volunteer work. I saw it as an infringement on my profession. I have 15 years of radio hosting experience. I saw podcasts as competition. In my short-sighted view then, I didn't see the full potential of a podcast. I just saw it as people wanting my job. But as time went on, I began to see the ways, at least in terms of in-car entertainment, that podcasting was the future. And like the cryptic fortune cookie says, "Kill Your Darlings". Or maybe go with the less-confusing, "Reinvent Your Business Constantly. The End Goal May Be The Same But The Tools and Methods Evolve Constantly" which is a Ken Tucker quote I saw on a Snapple Cap. Or even the more direct, "You Have To Reinvent To Stay Fresh and In The Game" which Madonna said once.

But early on, I saw it as the enemy - the way news journalists must have felt when FREELANCERS started getting a lot of the work in the late 90's. I thought, "If all you need to broadcast is a computer and an opinion, why the hell did I major in Broadcasting? It's like everyone becoming a Youtuber or a Social Media Influencer (seriously, that is NOT a good name. It's just saying what you're doing. It lacks creativity, like naming the glass thing you drink out of a "glass". Or the room with the bed a "bedroom". Or the thing you swing on a "swing". Or the... Sorry-I'll move on.) Anybody can become a Social Media Influencer these days, (and if they're under 14 and haven't been trying for half their lives then you might want to make sure they're breathing) and that means fame, sometimes money, but more important: LIKES. I overheard my 8 year-old playing with her friends and they were pretending there was a genie or something granting wishes and one girl asked for a pony, and another asked for a house of chocolate, and my daughter asked for a million LIKES on her video. LIKES are currency for pre-teen popularity. And LIKES or even merely PAGE VIEWS can be currency in the grown-up world of business. My point is that anyone with a computer and a camera can make money on Youtube if they hustle. It's simply the new normal. It's great, if not dangerous. We've yet to see the fallout of a generation raised on Youtubing, unless, of course, you count cautionary tales like Logan Paul or Jo Jo Siwa, both of whom are rich. It's simply another entertainment option for kids. I kinda thought podcasting was that, but for adults who only wanted quasi-fame; to show-off. But it's bigger than that.

If you're a plumber, for instance, and you want to maximize business, you probably want a decent social media footprint, some solid YELP reviews, and maybe even a podcast. Toilet clogged? Click here for an interview with master plumbers from all over. It's not the ONLY thing you should do. It's ONE of the things you should do.

On the consumer side, you have to realize that traffic, especially the bumper-to-bumper kind, is GOLD to a radio talk show host. People listen the most in their cars, so DJ's in New York and Los Angeles, the #1 and #2 radio markets depending on who you ask*, for instance, who entertain on the radio, are always on their toes to stay funny and relevant because it's so easy to push a button and change the station.

Then suddenly there was a new game in town. People were bypassing the radio altogether and plugging external sources into car sound systems, removing the commercials and unwanted Morning Zoo shenanigans, and rendering my entire college education and training void. My only hope was wishing death to the podcast movement, which I think I did a couple of times on the radio accompanied by a sound effect of a toilet flushing (Take THAT, Podcasting!). It didn't work. I kept hearing the word. Podcast. (eerie voice) PODD CAAAST! My head was in the sand. People would say to me, "you should do a podcast" and I'd cringe and wildly swing fists at imaginary ghosts who were accusing me of "Resting on your laurels" and "Holding on too tight.”

It took a while, but I get the appeal and, more importantly, the power of the Podcast. It's like a book-on-tape for the 21st century- 10 times as cool, though, because it's technologically relevant, and can be different every time you listen. So we agree that podcasts are real. And we acknowledge that there is room for many things on the dashboard of a car, be them outlets, or additional buttons. And we agree that the the way we do business is always changing and we have to adapt to some degree. So why all the hub bub? Because we can't have an intelligent conversation about the delicate existence of Podcasts without talking about Shane Gillis, the comedian who was hired and fired by Saturday Night Live in the same week last year. We need to understand the power of what it was that torpedoed his streetcar (tune into Mixed Metaphors with Pat Mellon Tuesdays on The Podd Couple, right after Poddamnit at 8, and Pod of Thunder with Gene Simmons at 8:17) He and a buddy do this show, this podcast, it's like a radio show but you don't listen to it on your grandpa's Victrola, you tether your MP3 player to the radio inside grandpa's Camry, and there's bad language, which there never is on traditional, boring old dumb talk radio, so right away, it's awesome (honestly, the only difference between Howard Stern on radio and Howard Stern on satellite is the F word) and the internet allows curses and take that, Mr. Suit and Tie, and this is going to be amazing. And on one particular show from 2018, Gillis said "chink" when describing someone in Chinatown. Not a huge scandal, but I guess you'd have to ask Roseanne Barr if the internet can get you into to any kind of trouble. She was exiled from the the entire US for a social media post that mentioned race and monkeys. And the same new normal that allows John Q. Anybody to do a podcast ALSO watches everything you do online and will sink you if it sees something it does not like. America can be confusing that way. Freedom of speech and freedom of complaining about freedom of speech are always at each other's throats, it seems. And you can't have it both ways. The guy who alerted the world to Bill Cosby's dating rituals online is loved by many but is also shunned by others, but that guy knows what he did and he knows not to complain about the ones who, well, complain. It's the price you pay.

The point is, you need to constantly be hustling and using all of technology’s modern tools to get your product out (they’re not burning DVD’s anymore) and maybe one of those avenues is a podcast with salty language, and maybe that podcast exists among your body of work that clients can enjoy whenever they want.

But we live in a new age of retroactive outrage. Eddie Murphy was on SNL and is arguably the most talented person the show has produced. He did a stand-up special in which he explores “What if Mr. T were a Faggot?” It was inflammatory and it was insensitive and it was homophobic (though that buzzword was still a decade from conception) because the premise of the joke- the attribution of homosexual behavior to a big, strong, black man being marginalized as solely predatory sodomy - crossed the line. When I spell it out like that it looks horrible. But it’s a simple comedic device: assigning unlikely behavior to someone for comedic purposes. It’s the fish-out-of-water gag. It’s why we had Mork, and Alf, and Balkie from Perfect Strangers. It’s Freaky Friday. It’s why The Rock playing a babysitter or a tooth fairy is funny. Murphy did this AFTER he was on SNL. But if has been released before he auditioned, do you think he’d have been hired?

Of course he would have. Because the Mr. T thing was a small part of that special (though, I recall, an extremely quotable part) and the people who didn’t like or appreciate the language didn’t have the bionic megaphone of the internet so they could get their outrage all over your conscience. The point is that your podcast is a reflection of your brand. You have to weigh your desire to speak freely and loosely with your desire to keep the Cancel Culture at bay. At a MINIMUM, though, you should keep things clean for your clients, listeners, and most importantly, your potential customers. Shane Gillis missed out of being on SNL and fame, instead on infamy because he broke one of society's biggest rules:he said something controversial out loud. Granted, it was in bad taste, but if that were a crime half of us would be in jail. It's just important to remember that your language on a work-based podcast should be professional, which I realize cannot be defined easily, but maybe stay away from slang and cursing. Just because you CAN doesn't mean you SHOULD.

#podcast comedy hilarious

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sebeth · 5 years

Text

Legion Of Super-Heroes #13

Warning, Spoilers Ahead…

“State Of The Universe” by Keith Giffen, Tom & Mary Bierbaum, and Al Gordon

The issue opens with the continuation of the Shakespeare – Persuader brawl.

A few children in the pediatric wing of Quarantine worry over Shakespeare. Garridan, the son of Saturn Girl and Lightning Lad, comforts Ivy: “He’s gonna be all right, Ivy. I just know he is. My dad says Legionnaires are real strong. Like they’re real, real hard to kill.”

Garridan is dressed in an adorable version of Colossal Boy’s silver age costume. I wonder if Gim is Garridan’s favorite Legionnaire?

Speaking of Gim, he has arrived at Quarantine and is working with the Science Police to find a way to evacuate patients near the Shakespeare/Persuader brawl.

Gim and Kent unintentionally tag-team the Persauder, causing his capture.

A great introduction for Richard Kent Shakespeare and a nice way to touch in with Garridan, Gim, and the Persuader.

I wouldn’t mind seeing a more of this mature, self-confident, and comfortable in his career Gim.

The Persuader is the second member of the Fatal Five that we have seen in this volume. We’ll see more members later on.

In orbit above Earth: Circe has been called to task by the Dominators – they want damage control, they want results, and they want it now: “When we gave you effective control of Science Police Earth, allowed you to shape Earthgov’s public relations strategy, we expected results. It is time for you to demonstrate that our faith in you was not misplaced…Madame Circe, when you procured the services of Dirk Morgna, you assured us the Earthers would believe anything the ex-Legionnaires told them. We are now holding you to that promise.”

The Darzyl System: Mano, another member of the Fatal Five, reports to Starfinger that the Persuader has failed in his assassination attempt.

Starfinger isn’t happy. It’s not a good day for criminal overlords.

Back to Quarantine.

Science Police Chief Gigi Cusimano credits the Persuader’s arrest to Kent Shakespeare: “If you ask me, the Legion is sorely missed.”

Gigi was a supporting cast member in the Legion’s Baxter series.

Gim offers Kent a lift to Toonar. It’s as close to Winath as Gim can take Kent: “That is, if you’re ready to turn in your scrubs to get back into a Legion uniform.”

“To be honest, I couldn’t get out of here a moment too soon. Once I heard the Legion might re-form, I’ve just been counting the days. Of course, some of the kids out here…it’ll just tear out my heart to leave them. I haven’t even worked up the courage to tell them yet.”

A spying Ivy is devastated to hear Kent’s plans to leave.

An isolated farm on Khundia: a confused Jo deals with an equally bewildered Khund: “You don’t look like a Khund yet you are not a master. You are soft-looking like a Khundish girl, but you have the voice of a man.”

Only a Khund would think Jo, of all people, would have a feminine appearance!

Jo appreciates the wife of the Khund man making a stew for him. The Khunder officer states the stew appreciation is another clear sign of Jo’s brain damage.

Two Dominators, without the trademark head discs, land on the property. Jo uses his ultra-speed to rapidly leave the property: “Bloody liberty! Dominators! I didn’t recognize them without their head discs! A couple of Khund cud-chewers I can handle. But the Dominion? This is getting real weird!”

Jo muses to himself: “Khunds and Dominators together?! Cats and dogs maybe, but Khunds and Dominators? I must be on the Frontier…some world on the fringe of both spheres of influence, maybe? Or maybe U.P. Intelligence is out to lunch, Maybe the Khunds and Dominators aren’t the blood enemies they’re supposed to be. Where the blazes did Roxxas send me?”

For those unfamiliar with the Dominators: Dominators are a caste-defined society. The size of the red dot in the middle of the forehead indicates their status in the society. The bigger the dot, the higher the status. If a Dominator, doesn’t have a dot, he would be the lowest of the low in the society. A dot can be surgically made smaller or scraped off entirely if the Dominator has lost status in his society.

The Toonar Spaceport: Kent remembers his farewell conversation with Ivy. He attempts to reassure her that he loves her and will be back. It doesn’t go well and ends with Ivy stating: “I hope you die on your first mission.”

Children, so dramatic!

Deep space: Laurel curb stomps some Khunds. She deeply regrets not being on Winath during the battle with Roxxas. “If only I’d just stayed on Winath in the first place instead of running back to Zirr every two days to see how Lauren is doing. Baby daughter or no, I can’t ever forget my responsibilities as a Legionnaire.”

Laurel faces the modern dilemma of many women: motherhood vs career.

The Collingwood Inn on Gnogg: The bald head prosthetic Tenzil shoved on Brek’s head during his Earthgov trial is not coming off. Brek is quite put out and wants it off ASAP.

Tenzil: “Well then, I guess there’s only one thing left to try, now hold still!”

“Ow…ow! That’s my hair, you moron!”

“Hey! What’s going on in here?”

“My god! He’s eating that man’s head!”

“It’s okay! It’s okay! I’m a senator!”

“I’m a senator” is Tenzil’s defense for all of his shenanigans.

Winath: Rokk researches options for the new Legion’s headquarters: “There just isn’t enough room on Brande’s planetoid. And we couldn’t risk bringing down an attack on the U.P. Council, so we gotta stay clear of Weber’s World. But by the same token, we sure as heck gotta get off Winath before someone else attacks the plantation”.

Garth interrupts – he and Rokk were supposed to get in a round of links.

“So what’s the big headache? You need a new headquarters? How’s that a problem?”

“Things aren’t so simple anymore, Garth. The Legion doesn’t have the kind of friends it used to.”

“Well, you’ve still got one friend you can count on. Consider your headquarters problem solved.”

“You don’t mean here? We really couldn’t stay.”

“No, no…I’ve got something a little better suited to your needs, Rokk. Trust me.”

Before Garth can reveal the location of the new headquarters, he spies Furrball (Brin) in a hallway: “Hey, look who just wandered in! I guess Kono’s going to be relieved!”

Brin wanders past an arguing Querl and Celeste: “I’m fine! So I have a tendency to glow green. So what? Green’s a lovely color. You should appreciate that more than anyone.”

Kono encounters Brin: “There you are, you big stupid furball! What the Nykx do you think you’re doing, disappearing on us for days like that? I don’t know whether to hug you or kick your stupid butt to Tombor.

Violet overhears Kono’s dressing down of Brin: “She can sure dish it out! Wish I had her brass when I was that age. But I didn’t come down here to admire out latest Firebrand. I’ve been putting this off long enough. It’s time to take care of business.

Violet enters the room and asks Rokk if he “has a sec”. Garth hastily excuses himself.

If you haven’t read the “5 Years Later” series, Rokk and Violet’s home planets, Brall and Imsk, went to war during the five-year gap between the Baxter series and the present series.

Violet voluntarily joined her planet’s military during the war, Rokk was drafted.

Imsk’s military scientists created a doomsday weapon to use against the Braalians. Violet served as the chief of security during the project’s development. Violet protested the actual use of the weapon.

The weapon is deployed. Rokk is onsite at the weapon’s deployment at Venado Bay. The weapon strips Brallians of their native magnetic abilities. It also causes death and dismemberment.

Rokk loses his abilites and is badly injured and deeply traumatized in the immediate aftermath of the weapon’s deployment. Violet is also there – she is deeply appalled at the carnage she witnesses. Violet recognizes Rokk and approaches him.

The badly injured Rokk does not recognize Violet and lashes out, causing her to lose an eye and suffer facial scarring.

Violet is imprisoned by the Imskian military for her protests and refusal to take back her criticism of the weapon and its deployment.

Rokk and Violet both suffer long-term PTSD from the events of Venado Bay and the war in general.

Back to the present day.

The duo awkwardly attempts to start a conversation.

Rokk begins: “Look, Vi, I know you’re upset. And you have every right to be. All those months you spent in prison, protesting Venado Bay, and I didn’t even have the courage to thank you. I don’t know what my problem was. I guess I was afraid you’d never forgive Braal for attacking your planet. Or forgive me for so blindly obeying Braal’s lousy leadership.”

“Rokk, don’t…I’m the one who should be apologizing…I’m the one…who helped kill all those…god.”

“’C’mon, Vi. It’s gonna be okay.”

“I told…I told myself I wasn’t going to fall apart like this…”

“You’re entitled.”

By the end of the conversation, both Rokk and Violet are crying.

One of my favorite moments in the series. Neither Rokk nor Violet magically healed their PTSD or emotional trauma but they’re on the road to healing.

Kathoon: A heavily pregnant Lydda is reading a letter from Rokk: “You know, Lydda, that woman has never forgiven herself for just doing her duty. Did I mention the scar she has over her eye? Vi told me she got it over her eye? Vi told me she got it at Venado Bay. She say’s she’s never having it removed. She never wants to forget what happened there. What she did. It just made me want to keep hugging her until the whole thing disappeared forever. But I guess Venado Bay will never go away. It’ll always be with us. Both of us.”

It’s safe to assume Violet didn’t inform Rokk that he caused the scar. Violet correctly assumed the revelation would only add more guilt to the emotional turmoil caused by Venado Bay.

The “hugging” line adds another dimension to Rokk’s character. Starting with the 5 Year Later series and continuing through the reboot, the three-boot, and the retro-boot, Rokk has been portrayed as the serious, no-nonsense, all business leader of the Legion. It’s nice to see a sweet, comforting side of Rokk.

The letter continues: “Now that we’ve finally nailed Roxxas, I’ve got to get going on the arrangements for Blok’s memorial. Brainy says it’s too soon to make it a double ceremony so we haven’t completely given up hope on Jo yet. But damn, it’s hard to get over Blok. I guess I never realized how important he was to us all until he was gone.”

Rokk ends his letter with “It really is happening. Uniforms, headquarters, roll call. The Legion is officially back.”

Lydda excitedly yells “All right!”

The next few pages consist of a Brande Industries Memo from Marla Latham to Reep Daggle.

Volume 1: Disposition Of Known Universe

Currently the known universe is divided into these political entitites.

1) The Khundish Empire, 32%

2) Independent, unaffiliated, disorganized, 29%

3) United Planets, 24%

4) The Dominion, 9%

The memo states Khunds have conquered Lallor, Sklar, Tsauran, and Rann.

The Dominion is in a state of collapse “as worlds on the fringe continue to achieve independence”.

The memo notes the Dominion’s attempt to enslave the now-decimated Daxamite race and the “alleged secret domination of Earthgov”.

The extent of the Dark Circle remains unknown but may be as large as the Khundish empire.

Volume 2: Growing Threats

1) Mordru

2) Glorith

The memo notes the “destruction of magic at the conclusion of the Mystic Wars have proven totally erroneous. While the greatest known nexus of Magic was destroyed with the old Sorcerers’ World, many known ‘sympathetic points’ remain, most notably Tharn, the new Sorcerers’ World, as well as Orando and Venegar.

Volume 3: The United Planets

1) Current operations include “directing traffic, organizing defense, and enforcing the rules of the Recovery Initiative”

2) Compliance remains low, U.P. membership is still far below pre-Collapse levels

3) U.P. Militia has gained respectability as a barrier to Khundish encroachment

4) The critical blow to the U.P.’s collapse was the secession of Earth

5) The United Planets and the Science Police have relocated to Weber’s World

6) The corruption of Science Police Earth has undermined the credibility of all S.P. agencies

7) Organized crime has flourished.

8) Molock Hanscomb (Starfinger) of Darzyl is the most powerful figure in the underworld.

9) Leland McCauley III has emerged as the richest businessman in the United Planets. Rumors suggest that Leland McCauley IV has wrested control of the business from his father.

Volume 4: Earth

1) “With poverty and paranoia flourishing on Earth in the wake of the Great Collapse, that planet has lapsed into a period of uncharacteristic xenophobia and acquiescence to authoritarian rule. It is now alleged that the population has been manipulated and covertly ruled by the Dominion.”

2) Resistant forces have opposed Earthgov since 2990.

We end with an interlude featuring Glorith and the Time Trapper.

The Trapper informs Glorith of the “timelines that proceeded yours…what you owe me.”

He further reveals that “Mon-El obliterated my form, not my essence. All that was destroyed were my works.”

The Trapper and Glorith are referring to events that took place in issues #4 – 5.

Trapper continues: “I’ve seen how you performed my acts, lived my life to frustrate that poor fool Mordru once again. How you’ve become the new Time Trapper…but understand this, without me you can lose everything.”

Trapper issues the traditional “without me, you will fail but together we can rule the universe” speech.

Glorith rejects the offer, devolves Trapper into protoplasm and absorbs his essence. I don’t feel bad for Trapper as he did the same thing to Glorith in the Silver Age.

Glorith decides now is the perfect time to conquer the universe.

A great issue that wraps up the previous plot lines and sets up future storylines. The issue is a terrific example on how to handle a large cast – we checked in with 14 Legionnaires and 5 sets of villains.

#Legion Of Super-Heroes #Cosmic Boy #Ultra Boy #Lightning Lad #Shrinking Violet #Colossal Boy #Kent Shakespeare #Brainiac 5 #Glorith #Time Trapper #Dominators #Khunds #Starfinger #Timber Wolf #Kono #Celeste Rockfish #Night Girl #Matter-Eater Lad #Polar Boy

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lotrewrite · 7 years

Text

LOT Chat Summaries (Sep-Oct)

Sorry this took so long! Find below the LOT Chat Summaries for the chats held on 16 September and 1 October. Includes the song recs and fanfic/fanart etc moments we’d like to see, as mentioned in the chats :-)

Episode 1

A gifset of Kendra flying, a flashback to a sepia-toned image, and then her saying “not another flashback

Gifset of Kendra saying she dumped Carter

One with Mick and Nate, with nate realising he’s travelling on his own

Something of Nate waving his pencil in Oliver’s face and complaining about his thesis

Run Boy Run by Woodkid

Don’t Let ‘Em Grind You Down by motörhead for Nate

Dust in the Wind by Kansas for Mick

Centuries by FOB just in general

Do it like a Dude for Queen Bee

Europa - Globus should be for WWII

40s music! There’s Torched Song from the L.A. Noire soundtrack and it’s so good for Mick

You Turn Me Right Round for the Lichtenstein anomaly Hello by Adele for Coldwave

Postmodern Jukebox

for the 40s in France music, there should definitely be Le Temps des Cerises

Legendary by Welshly Arms for the rewrite in general

Welshly Arms - Legendary for the whole season

"Look What you made me do” theme for the Legion

Our Corner of the Universe by KS Rhoads for Team Legends

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yjiupe-odRQ Goldberg Variations

“Sexual Healing” for Queen Anne/Sara…

“House of Memories” by Panic at the Disco for 2 or 3

way to the future by kate herzig

Episode 2

Bambi

Bambi and Ray eating together

Ratigan riding bambi at one point

Bambi meeting Ratigan

Bambi in the remains of the other raptors

Ratigan standing on Bambis head, pointing one paw: ONWARDS, Waverider in the background, Ray and Mick screaming of screen “Come back you little shits!”, “Join the Legends of Tomorrow” text above, “Save the Timeline” underneath, think like an old style Soviet propaganda poster, Waverider in the background, Ratigan and Bambi up front, “Join the Legends of Tomorrow” text above, “Save the Timeline” underneath

Coldwave song idea- Whispers by Dave Baxter)

Angel with a shotgun (for song choices)

gregorian monks chanting modern songs?

Pull the monks from Monty Python

For Ray: “I’ve Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts”

Gregorian version of “Boulevard of Broken Dreams”

“I walk a lonely road” = Ray having a moment

We are the monks from the Galavant soundtrack

I’m a different kind of princess from the galavant soundtrack for Sara

Mick telling Jax to fly because he’s already had whiskey

Jax and Stein in the infirmary

More of Kendra’s incarnation’s story

Hotblooded for Mick

Fireball

arsonist’s lullaby

Sir Patrick Stewart played the Lionheart once

coldwave - fate don’t know you by desi valentine

a version of friar tuck as one of the monks

Jurassic Park theme

Jon Bernthal’s character would be good for Peter

“Istanbul not Constantinople” by They Might Be Giants

“Jerusalem of Gold” by Ofra Haza

“Lanercost” by Steeleye Span

Episode 3

Ginnifer Goodwin as Nancy wake?

Melanie Lynskey for Nancy

Amaya and Sara’s conversations

The moment where Nate shouts “NANCY WAKE?!?”

le temps des cerises europa

fanart of that fight scene with everyone

Edith Piaf

Europa by Globus

“Le Temps des Cerises”

“La Vie En Rose” by Edith Piaf

In the Mood" by Glen Miller

la marsaillaise by edith piaf

The jukebox version of Seven Nation Army

Sentimental Journey by Doris Day for Amaya

Cover of paper planes done in a '40s style by jukebox

Hitler Has Only Got One Ball to the Colonel Bogey’s March

Nancy Wake’s song is Witness by Mindless Self Indulgence

Episode 4

Watch Your Back by Sam Tinnesz for the second half with Eobard

Fanart of the moment Eo brings back Laurel

Sara and Laurel in the med bay

Pink Floyd’s Another Brick in the Wall, possibly some ominous cover version, for the villains’ evil wall related schemes

Sara and Eobard drinking together

Every Breath You Take by Chase Holfeder. He does great minor covers of songs in major keys

99 Luftballoons by Nena

Something with Stein giving Marty his talking to, in the middle of the crowds in Berlin

Kim Weston – You hit Me Where It Hurts

The Ramones – Never Should Have Opened That Door

It’s So Easy when you’re evil

Rotten to the Core Disney movie descendants

When You’re Evil" by Voltaire for the Legion

Episode 5

Faroese Valravn or German Faun’s music

Mick Rory with the viking horns

Lisa

Wagner

Gunlod singing at the battle

ride of the valkyries

Looking too Closely by Fink for the end

Faun’s Walpurgisnacht would fit

fanart (gifset if possible) of Jax and Gunlod, being all flirty

Valravn has a version of Drømte mig en drøm

Jakob Oftebro for King Sweyn

Never Forget by Greta Salome

the fires

Mick headbutting the viking with his horned helmet

Paprika Steen or Hella Joof for Adisla

everybody talking to Lisa about their memories of Len, like one of those pics, with the bonfire and everyone around it, in the centre of the page, and then everyone’s memories in a circle around it

Eivør Pálsdóttir for Gunlød

“For the Love of a Princess "James Horner https://youtu.be/fckH2P0KK14

Episode 6

Uh, all of it

fancasts for our robot gangster

brent spiner

THE VOICE OF K2-SO whatshisname

Alan Tudyk

James Spader

we should just have ALL the famous robot actors hanging out

C3PO too

R2D2 and BB8

something frank sinatra

mission impossible theme

Robot Parade

"Mr Roboto”

A mix of Mission Impossible and the LoT theme

There’s a french revolution documentary with a song called rise of robespierre that sounds very steampunk and mechanical

Mick in his fireman clothes

the song from anything goes where she’s singing about her gangsters

Lisa kneeing Ray in the balls? like, I love Ray

like, every moment of lisa

“Weird Science” for the Stein/Dr Metcalf argument by Oingo Bongo

The Last of the Real Ones by FOB

Episode 7

Cisco getting thumbs up from Felicity and Winn when Lisa winks at him as she’s walking off

X-files theme somewhere along the way

seven nation army the original version would be good there

“Space Girl” for all the girls

salute by little mix for the girls

“Science Fiction Double Feature”

Episode 8

it’s a kind of magic

Lupita Nyong'o for Queen Bee

Magic Man" by Heart

Angela Basset

Taraji P Henson

viola davis

jada pinkett smith

Constantine interacting with the Legends

Something with the legends standing outside Zatanna’s place, looking frustrated at her “I’m not here” sign

Episode 9

Mick and Georgie, anything and everything with them

Is Anybody There from 1776

One of those things that fly across your dash with Ray and his rocket boot

Battle of Yorktown

fanart of that first confrontation when they meet Rip for the first time

Fanart of Washington’s ridiculous height

Georgie and Mick towering over everyone

Sara realising she just knocked back Martha’s eggnog and is actually talking to George Washington

Joke suggestion for Rip: I knew you were trouble, Taylor Swift

For Georgie storyarc, the Too Late to Apologize cover

mama look sharp from 1776

for Mick and Len and the hallucination arc, “Drumming Song” Florence and the Machine

“White Rabbit” Jefferson Airplane for Ray’s shrinking arc

"The Battle of New Orleans"

Episode 10

black sails intro

pirates OST

Ray’s costume trials need “Sharp dressed man”

There’s a lovely cover by Jo Dee Messina

“Yo Ho A Pirate’s Life for Me”

Wolves of the Sea by Pirates of the Sea, the Eurovision version

Assassin’s Creed Black Flag music

I’m a Modern Major General for Stein in disguise

Heroes by Måns Zelmerlöw for the legends at some point in some episode

Ray’s montage fanart

something from crouching tiger hidden dragon maybe

Ray dressing as blue beetle and everyone looking thoroughly unimpressed

Ray trying to be Cold, and Mick of taking back the cold gun

Mick and Ray arguing about pirates vs ninjas and Len in the back, very very frustrated

Fanart of what would happen if Len COULD change outfits at will, mick looks over and has to try not laughing if len could change outfits, Len shows up in a terrible pirate outfit, Mick spit-takes, Ray says “we have to re-shoot that”, Sara (from offscreen): “Where did you even GET that?”

Ming-Na Wen for Ching, Maggie Cheung, Michelle Yeoh, Fan Bingbing

Episode 11

Mick in shorts

“Down Under” by Men at Work, maybe for the sequence where Mick is being mistaken for an Aussie

fanart of that scene and also of everybody in their clothes

Everybody Wants To Rule the World by Tears for Fears

all the bad fashion

lost boys soundtrack

fanart of the intro scene of bby Mick and Len

people are strange by the doors; don’t cry little sister

Weird Al’s “Smells Like Nirvana” for the section that goes

we didn’t start the fire

Ngaire - Keisha Castle-Hughes

Episode 12

the alien theme

Sort of atmospheric background music

skittering noises

Space Girl

Ziggy Stardust

Lost in Space theme

Thus Spake Zarathusa

cold as ice for Len

AIDA from Agents of Shield in part inspired Grace, but she’s not the fancast

major tom

sigourney weaver as the engineer

for fanfic, something about Mick as Chronos, or Rip and Miranda hearing the story of the Mosaic

The moment with the Captain is saving Mick

Len and Gideon

The ghost behind Sara, and of Medusa!Grace

scaredy cat Stein

Sara and Mick sharing the quiet moment next to the graves

From Space girl: “Travelled through the time warp in the Psycho Plan”

Len shouting at Mick not to go on the other ship

Episode 13

Some ironic/dark use of something from the Evita musical

Don’t cry for me, Argentina

Mercedes Sosa

Solo le pido a dios

Churros. Any pic set of this episode must include churros.

Saved the world by eurythimics

copa la vida by ricky martin, maybe for the sequence with the soccer reference

under my umbrella aka, “Bus Stop” by the Hollies

The Legion surrounded by umbrellas

when Mick and the others are in the bakery

Fanart of Len, Thawne and Dahrk replicating the Singing In The Rain poster

Episode 14

fanart of Amaya dancing while Jax looks on like a proud brother

Greensleeves

Jonathan Rhys Meyers as Henry

Pasttime in Good Company

Brian Blessed

Eric Bana

Sean Astin

Mick sitting alone in the garden with his lighter while len looks at him sadly

the globe burning

Sara dancing with Henry, and amaya in the back like….oh shit

Burning Down The House

Talking Heads

Royals by Lorde

Sons of Serendip

Fanart of Sara and Amaya trying to get dressed

Natalie Dormer as Ann, Natalie Portman

prison themed music for the dungeon scene

Johnny Cash

lone blues harmonica

Mood board for henry and anne (+sara)

Episode 15

New york new york

All the old Irish songs about New York

Streets of New York

Pogues and Flogging Molly

Wolfe Tones

the legion in their “hq”

Queen Been in a barbershop chair

Amaya carrying Sara with spirit wings behind her.

Legion!Len being pissed at racists

Some dramatic baroque-layout style picture of the mob about to start, and the only points of colour in the pic are Sara, Amaya, and Darhk

Lily fanart

her and Rip working together to guide the team from the Waverider

Stein helping a tiny Lily make her first atom model

Episode 16

annoying game show background music

A montage set to the actual Legends of the Hidden Temple, or art with the Legends and Legion wearing those dorky outfits

Benny Hill theme song

The Chicken Dance song played in slow mo

theme from Gremlins

Someone who does podcasts needs to do some lines from the announcers

Fanart of the renegades first appearance

Fan art of affronted Mick and Len

Those (song) in Minor Key posts, Maybe the Benny Hill theme in minor key for dramatic parts

Stephen Fry would probably be perfect for Ethelred

Some of the challenges in the labyrinth should come with really annoying early computer game sounds

Art of the game in the style of one of those old crappy text RPGs and at one point, there’s a sign off to the side that says “don’t go this way - you will be eaten by a grue”

The whole Legends in The Future, yelling at a computer

16 or 32-bit version of the characters

in the year 2525 (song)

Episode 17

it's gotta be cassette quality 90's music

Green Day

Aqua barbie girl

drunk Legends

Spice Girls

lots of Madonna and Prince and Maria Carey

Jax and Jessica duke it out at the whack a mole

all the home alone sequences

Sound of Silence for the “Hello Darhk-ness my old friend” part

O!Len realising L!Len can see him

Jessica - Gina Rodriguez

“I put a spell on you” for the final sequence with Queen Bee

Any Jax/Jessica photoset would need their respective dolls

Episode 18

music rec: we will rock you. Nothing else will do for Sara’s gladiator appearance

the woman who played Lucilla in Gladiator for Fulvia

Centuries

Marc Antony, the guy who played him in Rome did it

Is Anybody There from 1776 musical

Rome, Spartacus, The Gladiator soundtracks

Sara fighting Darhk

EVERYONE in ancient Rome outfits

Legionnaire!Len

Kendra and Fulvia, lounging on their seats

Legion!Len in his toga

Having scenes from this episode using dialogue from Life Of Brian.

Kendra in Rome getup

Always Look on the Bright Side of Life

Episode 19

Camelot from Monty Python and the Holy Grail

Len’s ice ramp

Old school superhero comic style fan art of the knights

Joan (song)

everyone dressed up for dinner

Mick and Mordred

Colin Farrell for Jason Blood

Merlin - Taika Waititi

Eva Green for Morgana

Sofia Boutella for Nimue

Ivana Baquero ystina

Faun's Tanz mit mir for the party scene

Doomworld 1 & 2

crossover fan art of a certain Victor von Doom being angry with the Legion

It’s the End of the World as We Know It

Eurythmics "Sweet dreams are made of this"

Walking on the Ground

for Batman, Batfleck, Jason O’Mara

B: TAS theme

Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny"

Nathan Fillion - Hal

Don’t Mess With Me by Temposhark

Ain't No Rest for the Wicked" by Cage the Elephant

Ted - Danny Pudi

Everyone decked out in their doomworld versions

The fight between Mick, L!Len, and then the lanterns show up

all by myself to be playing in the background at the very end when Mick is left alone

Land of Confusion by Genesis, or the Disturbia version

Uprising by Muse

Believer by Imagine Dragons

Last Episode

Fan art of Bambi leaping joyfully into Ray’s arms

A gif set of Mick and Len hugging

fanart, specifically, of Ray and Bambi skipping through a field of flowers towards each other as “So Happy Together” plays in the background

everyone hugging Len, then Len and Mick hugging

A sweet piece of Sara and Laurel talking through the inter-dimensional skype

O!Len holding the spear, with the team in the back yelling at him not to do it

The sequence where the jump ship explodes in the middle of the time stream

we are the champions

Legendary

#episode #suggestions #recap #submission

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smileyanie · 7 years

Photo

“I love this interview, it show how much she grow as a person and as an actress. Yoonaya....I never once doubt your ability as an actress since I first saw you in You Are My Destiny. Your improvement make me and other Yoonaddicts so proud, and you always be our Pride”

[INTERVIEW TRANSLATION] Yoona in 1st Look (December 2016),credit sonexstella

“A Better Me”

She is not staying still in the shining now, and taking big smart steps forward. A girl who was like a white flower blossom is becoming an elegant young woman who is fit various descriptions. Actress Im Yoona’s shine that deepens another level.

Even if she’s not the ‘center’ of a brilliantly shining stage, even if she’s not receiving flashes in a glamorous dress, Yoona is a person that stands out whenever, wherever. Her slender and long body, milky skin, a deer-like deep and transparent eyes that center her narrow face, and her refreshing smile. Aside from one’s likes and dislikes, she has pretty looks acknowledged by anyone and with a unique mood, when she first appeared before the world, she had the role of a ‘girl who is particularly pretty among pretty kids’.

However, Yoona has been able to show that beauty unchangingly by not staying as just a slender girl, but by working hard with a healthy energy and with a warm heart. Even though she is an idol that can capture the public’s gaze in one breath, she didn’t rest on the laurels of that name, and Yoona has sincerely and smartly taken steps forward. Recently, the tvN drama <The K2> which ended popularly was an even more meaningful piece for Yoona and had special meaning in her walk of life. As she lived as ‘Go Anna’, a girl with dark wounds and a complicated inner side, which is opposite of her given image, she cried and was hurt countless times, but she overcame it with her own firm ways, and in the end, she brought a splendid conclusion to fruition.

In this moment where she has silently walked over a huge mountain that appeared treacherous, Yoona does not get prematurely excited or ahead of herself, and carefully takes in the compliments she receives. She smiles silently saying that this is only the beginning of the process to become actress Im Yoona who has become a bit better, and has grown a little more. When we thought this appearance was a bit unexpected, Yoona said, “It’s time for me to experience even more changes. I have so many more faces that I still want to show.”

<The K2> ended while it was popular. You must have some thoughts now that it has ended. Has it been almost 3 years? It’s a piece that I’m showing for the first time in a while, so while we were filming, it was fun and my heart was anticipating it a lot. It was fun to experience the lively energy of the location, and it was refreshing to wait for the viewers’ reactions with a fluttering heart. More than thoughts of it being difficult, I liked that I was able to participate in an amazing piece, and that I could attempt a lot of things within that. There were incredible actors that I could learn especially a lot from, as well as passionate staff, so I was able to enjoy it twice as much.

In previous works, you mostly showed us bright and confident sides, so when we first heard the casting news, we were surprised. We’re curious how you came to decide on a drastic attempt. It wasn’t on purpose, but while I was waiting for a piece that captured my heart, the gap ended up being long. I wanted to meet a character that I could play really well. While I was on a break, I was one step away, so I was able to seriously think about acting. If I do a piece, what kind of side I could show, how viewers would take the character I’m acting, what direction I should take going forward, and so on. While I was hesitating about whether I should show more of what I’ve been showing or if I should attempt something new even if it’s unfamiliar, I received the script for <The K2>. Most of the scripts that come to me are candy characters similar to <You Are My Destiny> but Anna was completely different. As soon as I read it, I had the conviction of ‘I don’t want to miss this. I have to do this one’. I thought the clothes wouldn’t fit exactly, but that unfamiliarity pulled me in strongly. Along with an understanding of ‘Why did I not think of a direction like this?’ even though I was very concerned about it. It was a character who threw a lot of emotion in the way of Actress Im Yoona, who is coming out in front of everyone for the first time in a while.

Anna, who experiences a lot of bends and pain in life, is not an easy character to express. Especially in the beginning, we see her unsociable side, and as the story unfolds, she comes and goes to the extreme ends of emotions. There must have been a lot of difficult aspects. There were many scenes where emotions had to be brought out and expressed. Normally, I rarely ever yell but I needed to scream and I shed a lot of tears too. In the 1st episode, which was filmed in Barcelona, Spain, I had to run around barefoot covered in blood. She lived secluded from society and oppressed, like a shadow, and as she meets ‘Jeha (Ji Changwook’s role)’, she opens her heart and depends on him, and showing this process in a convincing way was not easy. When I look back, the boundaries of emotional change should have appeared a bit more delicate, so I think in many ways, it was a bit lacking. I do have some regrets, but to me, it was a very good experience. I learned a lot. If I had to take on Anna alone, it would have been incredibly difficult, but the sunbae actors I worked with had very solid skills and energy, so I was able to pull out more than what I possess alone. I’m very thankful and happy.

What is the most memorable scene, or a moment that you remember from filming? Every scene was special, so it’s not easy to narrow it down to one. Of course, the scenes filmed in Spain’s exotic environment were memorable, as were working with (Song) Yoona sunbaenim, who had an antagonistic relationship to me. Since before I joined the project, the fact that I could act with Yoona sunbaenim alone made me nervous. More than anything, the scene where Anna meets her dad (Jo Sungha’s role), who she has wanted to meet, touched me the most. All of the complicated emotions that Anna has built up over time in her heart surged up my whole body, so for a take that went on for more than 15 minutes, I cried. I cried to the point that my eyes swelled up so much that staff worried whether I’d be able to film the day after. Personally, it was a special moment where I was able to show and also fill up to my heart’s content.

There were a lot of people who said ‘We saw actress Yoona’s potential’. You must be proud to receive such good praise about your acting. I’m thankful that people are seeing me positively. Every person has a different standard but honestly for me, rather than thinking I did well, I think more about the many aspects where I’m still lacking. Even if I have to go through more severe hardships, I promised myself to improve. Because I want to become a good actress. Through <The K2> I think I mostly got rid of my fear toward new attempts. It’s not confidence, but should I say that I have developed faith in myself to continue to show a new face within projects going forward. Before, I was very aware of and concerned with people’s assessments. Because of that, the breadth of my movement became narrow. Now, rather than being shaken by others’ gaze, I want to center myself and walk the path I want to walk, find the path I need to walk. I want to put down my burdens and anxiety. If I build my efforts continuously like that, I’m sure I will become a good actress.

Through Anna, it feels like you’ve stepped deeper into the path as an actress. My will toward acting has been elevated, and my curiosities have increased too. I’ve started to ask myself questions like what kind of acting is more natural and will evoke an even deeper emotion, how diverse of a role will I be able to pull off, and what kind of a person is a good actor. Going forward, steadily and diligently, I am going to find those answers. Truthfully, my personality is not one that sets a distant goal and dreams big. I tend to place importance on things right in front of me, and putting my best into achieving that. When I’m doing SNSD activities, I pour all of my energy into the stage, and when I act, I try hard to pull out as much as possible in front of the camera. If sincere steps are piled up over time, even if progress is slow, I believe that I will be better bit by bit. I must be becoming a bit broader, and a bit deeper. I hope I will be able to meet myself who is definitely a bit better than I was yesterday.

I heard you already confirmed the next project? I was surprised once again hearing that it’s a historical drama. We’ll be able to meet pretty Yoona wearing hanbok. It’s a historical melodrama called <The King Loves>, broadcasting early next year. As the daughter of the wealthiest man in Goryeo, it will be a romance with Im Siwan oppa. I’ve done a historical drama in China, but it’s my first one domestically, so I’m curious and I’m really anticipating it. With this piece too, I wanted to show a new face again. Through <The K2> I’ve overcome my fear and worries toward new attempts, so I want to attempt a transformation even more proactively. Regardless, I want to continue to have diverse experiences. Whether it does well or not, whether I receive good feedback or not, I don’t want to become caught up in that and courageously get into a new role. Also early next year, I will be able to meet everyone through the big screen. My first movie <Confidential Assignment> will open. I don’t have a big role, but it’s meaningful because it’s my first.

You’re hardworking. As an actress, I wonder if this is an era where you take leaps with each step. Now that we look back, it has been 10 years since your debut. Before we looked at sunbaenims who got to their ‘10th year’ and thought it’s cool and amazing but now that I encounter the number ‘10’, it’s hard to believe. It doesn’t seem like that much time has passed, but it feels awkward. But when I look back, I worked hard and I was happy because I received a lot of love. As a person who is in their ‘10th year’, I still have many areas where I’m inadequate, but I think I have become very natural among people and in society. It must be because I was beside good people, and fans, who warmly look at me without change. I’m very thankful for that.

Since we saw your potential as a good actress, we’ll expect a lot more from Yoona from now on. We are cheering on the start of your new plan. When I look back in the last 10 years, I was participated in five projects. I think there will be a lot of people who think that it’s a slower progression than they thought. Truthfully, I was scared of shattering or breaking so I held back a lot, but now I want to take bigger strides. I still get nervous and shaky when I go on set, but it’s still fun and enjoyable. One thing I wish for is to be able to always show a new face to the public. I want to be a person who generates curiosity and anticipation of, ‘What side of Yoona will she show next?’. Even after a long time, becoming an ‘actress people are curious about’ is a current dream of mine as an actress.

#yoona #im yoon ah #snsd #girls generation #1st look magazine

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stephwriteswords · 3 years

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FIND THE WORDS

I was tagged by the lovely Laurel ( @sleepy-night-child ) with the words:

refuse,

afraid,

close,

and problem.

I don’t really know anyone in the writeblr community yet, and I certainly can’t keep track of who may have already done this, so if you’re seeing this, take this as an invitation. I know it’s hard when nobody like, invited you, but you can definitely tag me in your post(s) and say I tagged you...because I am tagging you! Sort of!

If you do decide to take this from me, take these words with you:

ugly,

together,

tumble,

and laughter.

Onto the game! Excerpts beneath the cut for length because why be shortwinded when you can be longwinded, amirite <3 Read on for cuts from The Four Corners and The Adventures of Princess Marigold!! Please let me know if you’d like to be included in taglist(s)!

REFUSE: THE FOUR CORNERS

“I know what you mean,” Fiona said, because she did. “I mean, I’ve been a were-- I’ve been in my, um, club, since birth, but…” Fiona sighed. “There’s so much I don’t know. So much I didn’t even know I didn’t know until I got here.”

“Like what?”

“Like-- like you, and your independent study, like…” Fiona sighed helplessly. “If I’d known how much I was missing, I would’ve left Missouri a long time ago.”

“Go back a minute,” Jo said, leaning forward on one hand. “Did you say you’ve been, um, how you are, since… since birth?”

Fiona nodded. “I wasn’t-- um, inducted. My parents were, so me and my brother both are.”

Jo’s eyes went wide. “I didn’t know that was possible.” She pulled a tablet from her backpack, murmuring a few words as she pressed her fingers against the screen. There was a faint purple glow and it unlocked for her - and then she was hastily writing something, using a purple stylus that had appeared from apparently nowhere. “...since birth… parents…”

“Um,” Fiona said. “That’s not - I mean, that’s not how it always works,” Fiona said; Jo paused to look up at her. “My parents got lucky with me and Flynn.”

“Lucky how?”

“Well… pregnancy is hard on a body in general, without - without going through what we go through.” Fiona said, her voice even as she continued. “So it’s hard for females - for women who are, um, in my club to get pregnant and stay that way.”

Jo’s eyes went somehow even wider, and Fiona blushed under the pressure. “And even if they do, it’s not, like, a guarantee that the pu-- that the kids would be, um, in the club.” “It’s not?”

Fiona shook her head. “Like I said, they got lucky with us. And not just ‘cause we’re the coolest kids ever.”

Jo laughed and wrote more down with her purple stylus, then looked back at her. “My family doesn’t know about me,” Jo admitted, in a quiet sort of half-whisper, sounding resigned and disappointed all at once. “Sometimes I think it’d be so much easier, but… I mean, they wouldn’t believe me anyway, and if they did, they’d probably just… I don’t know, send me to Bible Camp again or something.”

“Bible Camp? Again?” Fiona stared. She’d never even heard of Bible Camp, and from Jo’s tone of voice, she didn’t really want to.

Jo waved a hand dismissively. “Never mind,” she said, returning a smile to her face. “I have my coven, and that’s more than enough for me.” Jo’s smile widened. “They’ve been so great to me. Has your p-- I mean, your club, have they been nice to you? Winnie said you weren’t the only new one, right?”

Fiona nodded, though she hesitated. “I’m - I’m not the only new one, no, but, um… I’m not sure if I’m supposed to tell you or not.” Fiona sighed quietly. “I’m not sure how, you know, secretive it really all has to be…”

Jo pursed her lips slightly. “Okay, let me ask you a different way. Is her name Kate?”

“Y-- wait, what? No, it’s not,” Fiona said, her frown deepening. “Who’s Kate?”

“Nobody!” Jo said, too quickly to be anything like convincing. “Never mind. I was just guessing a random name, trying to up my psychic game, forget I said anything.”

“Jo--”

“Seriously,” Jo said. “Forget I said anything. Please?”

Fiona blinked. “...Are you gonna cast a spell on me if I refuse?”

Jo blinked in return, then started laughing. She wiggled her fingers playfully at Fiona. “And you wouldn’t even know if I did!”

AFRAID: THE ADVENTURES OF PRINCESS MARIGOLD

Marigold nodded, glad that even though Patrick couldn’t remember how old he was, he still celebrated that he was still alive. “Who do you invite to your parties?” Marigold asked, her mind already filling in with images of fairies, pixies, little fox friends and all sorts of fantasy creatures, gathered together around a table, with a Unicorn-shaped cake right in the middle.

She knew, objectively, that there probably wasn’t cake. Or a table. In spite of the fact that Patrick could speak to her - and that she could understand him, no less! - he was still a Unicorn, which was still a type of animal. He didn’t have the thumbs required to open stoves or cut slices of cake.

He probably didn’t even have a stove. Or a kitchen. Or a house.

That made Marigold sad.

“Patrick,” she said, “where do you live?”

“You are full of questions,” Patrick said, and Marigold just grinned and gave an enthusiastic nod of her head.

“Yep!” she said, proud of this fact - people had been telling her since she could remember that she talked too much, asked ‘why’ too much, read too much and had too many thoughts in her head, but both of her parents had assured her that there was no such thing as ‘too much’ curiosity, and while there was a time and a place for certain questions, it was almost always a good thing to ask them. The people who said she talked too much were just afraid of doing the same, so they were trying to make her afraid, too.

But Marigold had never been afraid of that. She couldn’t have been even if she tried - her opinions, thoughts, questions and sometimes even answers to those same questions all came tumbling out of her mouth whether she liked it or not. So Marigold had decided to like it. Why shouldn’t she? Her parents said that the secret to eternal life was to always be learning, and Marigold loved learning.

CLOSE: THE FOUR CORNERS

The Alpha paused. For a moment, she wondered if he might force her, if he might tug her into the stream of pack that she could feel all around her.

But he didn’t. He gave a slight nod and half turned and gave a little woof - the two behind her trotted obediently to him and kept on trotting. He looked at the little white female and nosed her gently, and she started walking into the woods, though considerably slower than the other two.

And then it was just the two of them.

He looked back at her and sat down. Fiona tilted her head.

His name was Dominic.

She remembered that - the body of his fur was deep brown, with lighter splashes across his chest and face; he was bigger than she was, but still built light. The male that had passed her and gone into the woods was easily the biggest of any of them.

His name was Dominic.

He let out a low whine and took a few hopping steps toward the woods, pausing again to look back at her.

He wanted her to go with them.

He still wasn’t forcing her. He still wasn’t inducting her into his pack by force - he wasn’t dragging her.

But he still wanted to run with her.

Fiona grinned, as best she could, and then she took off at a run, zipping past him quick as anything, and she heard his surprised chuff as he kicked up after her. She was smaller than he was and that helped her, but his legs were long and he was sure in these woods, more sure than she was; he caught up quickly and that was fine, because she found that she wanted to follow him. The other three - and they were a three now - were waiting for them, with the little white wolf play-tackling the male.

The male was almost all black, except for a spot of white over his right eye. Tanner, his name was. He was being - remarkably patient with the little white wolf as she played with him, nipping at his ear and chasing his tail when he wiggled away from her. And the other female, L...L...Lucy - she was grey as morning mist, except for her ears, that looked like they’d been bleached in the sun. She sat to the side, her big fluffy tail wrapped around her legs as she watched them.

When the Alpha appeared, they stopped playing and got to their feet, and Dominic skidded to a stop too, slightly breathless from their run, and there was a moment of silence where they all just - looked at each other.

And there was the magic again. They were magical. This was perfect.

The thrum of their pack edged closer to Fiona’s heart.

Dominic let out a low, long howl. Fiona’s ears pricked forward as the other male joined in, offering a low sort of harmony, and then the females, first the grey one and then the little white one, high and uncertain.

She didn’t have to join in.

And for a minute she didn’t - she just listened to their song. It was beautiful, listening to them like this; they were all so young, and they were all so - not quite scared, but they knew this wasn’t easy, what they were doing. This pack wasn’t twenty-five wolves strong. This pack was a fragile sort of thing, still, and she could hear it in their song.

But it was still beautiful.

When she joined in, her howl fit in perfectly, like she knew the score. They sang to the moon and to the sky and to the thousands of stars. They sang and sang and sang, and when they were done, they ran again.

Somewhere, sometime, they stopped running for fun. They stopped running to feel the wind and the earth and to see everything they possibly could. They stopped playing chase and tag and fight, they stopped messing around.

They remembered what they were.

PROBLEM: THE FOUR CORNERS

She rubbed at the stamp again. “Who are you?”

“Jake,” he answered, giving a little unceremonious shrug. “Jake Hernandez. What’s your name?”

“Fiona,” she said, awkwardness creeping up on her - but she pushed it aside and tried to focus on the many, many unanswered questions she had before her. “How do you work here?”

“Are you asking for a job?”

Fiona gave him a look. “I mean, how do you work here? I thought-- I didn’t think any humans knew about us.”

Jake smiled. “Most of them don’t,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Most of them aren’t the owner’s son, though.”

Fiona raised her eyebrows. “A human owns this place?” That was more surprising than having a human work there - she couldn’t quite believe so many supernatural beings were gathered in this place owned by someone who shouldn’t even know they existed.

“It was one of the terms,” Jake explained. At her confused expression, he continued, “the terms of this place existing. Everybody’s welcome here, long as they don’t cause problems, and my family - really, humans at large - are neutral. Nobody’s out to hurt them. Hurt us.” Jake paused. “Or at least nobody here is. So humans run this place, and everybody who’s not human has a place to eat, drink, fuck and be merry.”

Fiona nearly choked on her water, which made Jake laugh loudly and a lot. She glowered at him.

“But-- I mean, how--”

Jake nodded to her hand, and she looked back at it. “Everybody gets dampened on entry. A zero tolerance violence policy, especially across species lines - that’s why I interrupted you back there. Looked like you were gonna go for her jugular.” He eyed her curiously. “Why was that?”

Fiona shook her head. “I don’t think I should talk about it.” Fiona pursed her lips - she didn’t want to talk about it partially because it wasn’t this human’s business, and also because she didn’t trust herself to hold onto her tenuously calm temper if she got thinking about it too intensely. “How long does this last?” Fiona asked instead, scratching at the mark on her hand with her nail - it wasn’t glowing anymore, which meant she could barely see it against her skin. If she hadn’t gotten worked up, she wouldn’t have even hardly noticed it.

“Only as long as you’re on the property,” Jake assured her. “You let the door guy know if you’re leaving and coming back that same day, he fixes it to reactivate once you cross our property lines. Otherwise, it leaves you when you leave us.”

Fiona nodded, then let out a long, slow breath. “...Were the vampires… was that blood that they were drinking?”

Jake grinned. “Yeah. Pretty cool, huh?” Fiona stared at him. “No? Okay, fair enough, I guess. We’re just - it took us forever to figure out how to get volunteer, uncompelled, safe blood donations, or at least how to get enough to feed an entire city’s vampiric population. Did you know we’re the only bar safe for all types of creatures in the city? And we’re one of only four neutral spaces in city limits,” he added, clearly proud of himself.

taglist: @croctears

#writeblr #tag games: find the word #t4c #taopm #i...did not just do the line it was in. this is like several excerpts. it's fine.#t4c: excerpts #taopm: excerpts #can you believe none of those words were in unchosen in a good way? i'm shook

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raywritesthings · 4 years

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Bird in a Storm 4/17

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Laurel Lance, Oliver Queen, Tommy Merlyn, John Diggle, Joanna de la Vega, Quentin Lance, Frank Pike, Felicity Smoak Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: The confrontation between the Hood and SWAT on the roof of the Winick Building goes differently, altering the course of Laurel’s career, relationships and efforts to save her city forever, the shockwaves of such an altered path making themselves felt throughout her family and friends. *Can be read on my AO3, link is in bio*

Joanna couldn’t believe it when she first got the news. But the multiple texts from her coworkers at CNRI proved its veracity: Laurel was being forced out.

She headed over to her friend’s apartment and was let in by a surly Tommy Merlyn.

“You wouldn’t be here to talk some sense into her, would you?”

“I’m here to support my friend.” Joanna headed past him into the sitting room where Laurel looked up from her laptop.

“Hey. I guess you heard.”

“Yeah. Are you okay?” She’d meant to come by even earlier to see her after that whole incident with her injury, but they’d had family in visiting still. It didn’t keep her from feeling guilty for not being there when Laurel clearly needed someone.

She shrugged. “It’s not the end of the world.”

“Just your career,” Tommy reminded them all as he passed by on his way back to the bedrooms. The door shut hard behind him.

Joanna hid a wince and took the spot next to Laurel on the couch. “Where have you been looking?”

“Everywhere?” Laurel shifted so she could look at the cover letter her friend was drafting. “It’s a little hard when I can’t talk much about my only place of employment or use them as a reference.”

“I guess your reputation of taking down corporate big shots isn’t too helpful when applying for corporate law.”

“No, it is not.”

Joanna shook her head. This was so unfair and everyone knew it. “You want me to talk to Eric?”

Laurel shook her head. “It won’t do any good. He’s under the thumb of CNRI’s backers.”

“And those backers want you to starve?”

“They want to see the Hood punished. Since they can’t do that, I guess I’m the next best thing.”

“But you’re more than just a connection to the Hood. If you hadn’t been helping me solve my brother’s murder, nobody would even know you’ve worked with him. None of this would’ve happened.” Joanna hung her head.

“I wouldn’t take it back if it meant not exposing the truth about your brother’s death. Or saving the chief. Those were good things.”

Before Joanna could answer, the bedroom door opened again and Tommy stopped in the sitting room. “I’m heading out.”

Laurel set her laptop aside and stood. “Okay. Did you want me to wait on dinner?”

“I’ll eat while I’m out.” He gave a curt nod to Joanna, then turned and headed to the front door.

Laurel wavered on the balls of her feet. “Have a good day,” she called just before the door shut.

“Does he really have to start at the club that early?”

“His hours are what he wants them to be. And right now, he does not want to be here.” Laurel sighed and dropped back down into her spot. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Maybe… maybe you just take the deal. It’d make things a lot easier for you and your relationship,” she pointed out. It was the practical choice. The safe one. But she knew Laurel was rarely interested in safe or practical.

Her friend looked at her. “Jo, you know as well as I do what lying about the Hood would look like to our clients.”

She grimaced. That was a hard point to refute. Laurel was good at what she did precisely because of the trust she garnered in their clients. They really believed she was willing to put everything on the line in the name of justice. The time had come to prove she was.

“There is one thing about CNRI,” Laurel told her. “Thea. Anastasia has agreed to become her temporary sponsor, but when you go back to work, I’d really appreciate it if you could take over. I feel like Thea could learn a lot from you.”

She felt herself smile. “Yes, of course. Actually, on one condition.” Laurel frowned, but Joanna wasn’t worried. “If you ever need anything, you let me know. A reference, food — my mom misses cooking for a group.”

“I don’t think things are that drastic yet,” Laurel was quick to say.

“You never know. It isn’t exactly cheap to live in this town. Except in the Glades.”

“Yeah,” Laurel agreed quietly. “Thank you for the offer, Jo. Really.”

“I’m your friend, Laurel. It’s what we do. I’m gonna miss you when I go back.”

“You’ll do fine without me.”

“I don’t know. I don’t love the odds,” Joanna told her. Laurel pulled her in for a hug.

“Me neither. But we have to keep fighting.”

She nodded into Laurel’s shoulder. Then she pulled back. “So, jobs. You try the DA’s office yet?”

“Yeah, I think Kate Spencer is my least biggest fan at the moment.”

Joanna couldn’t help a snort. “Yeah. That figures.”

Laurel joined her in laughter. Sometimes that was all you could do.

---

It had taken him practically begging for Laurel to finally come see him at the station. She wouldn’t go to his home, and he knew he still wasn’t welcome in hers. That was assuming it was hers for much longer, the way she was going.

“I don’t get it. I really don’t. They don’t wanna let you go. Nobody wants to see you leave CNRI. You’re the best they got!” He paced back and forth in the space between table and wall of the interrogation room he’d commandeered to try and talk some sense into his daughter. “Why would you throw that away?”

“Because if I agreed to what they’re asking, I wouldn’t be the best anymore. I’d just prove to be susceptible to coercion.”

“Coercion to help control a criminal. That’s not coercion, that’s- that’s cooperating with law enforcement!”

“A lot of people in the Glades see that as the same thing,” she stated while looking straight at him.

“Hey now,” he said, raising a warning finger. “I’m not saying this department is perfect, but you gotta have order in a society. This Hood guy, he’s disrupting that.”

“If it was already so broken, maybe it needed disrupted,” she argued.

Quentin could feel his frustration mounting despite his promise to himself not to get angry with her today. The investors at CNRI were pushing the issue because he’d pushed it first — but there wouldn’t be an issue if she’d just see reason!

They were interrupted by a quick rap on the door and the desk sergeant poking his head in.

“Detective, there’s a woman at the desk asking — well, she called you Laurel Lance’s father,” the sergeant amended with a glance Laurel’s way. “I think she might really be looking for you, Miss.”

Laurel took a step forward, but he said, “Send her back here.”

The desk sergeant left and returned a few minutes later with an older woman with dark skin whose face lit up when she saw his daughter.

“Well, Miss Lance!”

“Hello, Mrs. Ross.” Laurel embraced the other woman, and Quentin tried to remember if she’d been a client or family of one.

“I heard through the grapevine you’d been fired. It’s a disgrace, and after everything you’ve done for that office!”

“Thank you,” His daughter said, a small smile gracing her lips.

“You find some other work yet?”

“Not just yet. Most of the law firms in this city aren’t too keen to attach my name to themselves at the moment.”

“I thought so. Well, they’re all a bunch of thieves anyway. So listen, if you need something to keep you afloat, I’ve been asking around. My neighbor’s aunt has this friend, she’s got a flower shop on Wells and 17th Street, and she’s been looking for a helper for a while now. Arthritis getting bad in her fingers.”

“Oh,” said Laurel. She glanced his way, uncertain. “I’ll have to stop by and introduce myself.”

“Mm-hm. It’s honest work, which beats most things. Gotta put the food on the table.” She looked to him as if expecting to share a grin. Quentin’s lips didn’t even twitch.

Mrs. Ross dropped her gaze to her purse, which she rifled around in. “Here, I wrote the address down for you. You show up anytime and just tell her I sent you.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Ross.” Laurel hugged her again. “It means a lot.”

“Well, we all gotta help each other, cause them upstairs never will.” She darted a look in Quentin’s direction and stepped back. “You take care, now.”

“I will. Thank you.”

Mrs. Ross left the room, and the silence in her wake was deafening. Laurel looked down at the paper in her hands, which was really just a way of avoiding looking at him.

“A florist?” He finally asked. “That’s what you’re gonna be now?”

Laurel grimaced. “Has to beat retail, right?”

“Laurel, honey, just be reasonable, alright? No vigilante is worth this much no matter what he’s done.”

“And what am I worth?” Laurel asked. “My word, my integrity. That’s what’s on the line here just as much as his reputation. If your boss asked you to lie about some case just because it would make a few CEOs happy, would you do it, dad?”

If he answered truthfully, it wouldn’t make everything right again. Except: “Lying about a case is a lot different than saying a criminal’s a criminal.”

Laurel shook her head before walking to the door. “The next time you wonder why residents in the Glades don’t trust the cops? Remember that.”

She left without letting him respond. It never helped that the both of them always wanted the last word.

“Detective?”

“What?” He snapped. Kelton just blinked at him, and he sighed. “What was it?”

“The incident report was filed for the, uh, Winick Building use of force.”

He straightened up right away. If he couldn’t save Laurel from her own reckless decisions, he could at least nail the idiot who had hurt her that night. “Well?”

“The rubber bullet came from Officer Daily’s weapon.”

“Daily.” Something had always seemed off about that one. He hadn’t even been one of Quentin’s first picks that night, just volunteered because he was on shift. Probably one of those gun-happy nuts who thought the job was more about shooting people than about keeping the peace. Quentin never minded knocking one of those guys down a peg. “Good work, Kelton.”

He left the interview room and headed to Frank’s office where he rapped on the door. It took a few minutes for his superior to open it.

“Got a minute?”

“I suppose,” Frank Pike sighed. “It’s either now or later with you anyway.”

He showed him in, though Quentin remained standing. “You see the incident report?”

“Well? What’s gonna happen to Daily?”

Frank brought his hands together in a gesture that rarely meant good news. “That’s up to Captain Stein’s decision. From what I understand, there will be no disciplinary action.”

Quentin thought he felt his eyes bug out. “What do you mean, no disciplinary action? The man shot a civilian!”

“It’s a difficult situation, Quentin, one you probably should have thought of before you made your daughter a person of interest to the Taskforce,” Frank pointed out none-too-gently. “Daily believed he was shooting at the vigilante. He has expressed no ill intent towards Laurel or any other civilians since. Laurel didn’t even press charges.”

“And you’re lucky she didn’t since it would’ve exposed us being caught in another lie,” he snarked. “Look, if Stein wants to let the whole thing go, that’s his prerogative. But Daily was under my command that night, so I’ll decide—”

“You won’t go near Daily,” Pike said, standing from his desk. “You won’t speak to him, won’t touch him. It’s a huge conflict of interest, Quentin, one that could see you in front of an ethics committee if Stein decided to pursue the matter.”

Quentin stood there a minute, hardly daring to believe it. Far from threatening him, Frank was trying to protect him, and from his own superior. But he was also protecting an officer who had demonstrated gross misconduct. “You know this isn’t right, though.”

“I know what my orders are. I’m telling you what yours are now. Are we understood?”

Quentin looked down, his jaw working for a moment or so. “Sure.” Then he left the office.

Back at his desk, he checked the incident report. Nowhere in it did it actually confirm that Laurel had been struck by Daily’s bullet; it simply made note that Daily’s gun had been returned with one bullet missing. The official record would never hold him accountable and, apparently, neither would any of them.

Why nobody trusted the cops indeed.

---

It had been a long evening of arguing with the contractors yet again. Tommy had been hoping to be done with that long ago, but thanks to the fire last month, they were still in the building process. It didn’t help matters that Oliver tended to disappear as soon as he turned his back for more than a few minutes. He was just glad to be heading home for one night.

Tommy entered the apartment, frowning as he took in the stripped-down sight of it.

“Laurel?”

“Hey.” She came in from the bedroom, a notepad in one hand and a box under her other arm. It looked to have some of her court suits folded up inside.

“What’s going on?”

“I started an account to sell some extra things for rent this month. Since CNRI is a nonprofit that struggles to stay open as it is, they don’t exactly have severance packages.”

“You’re auctioning off your belongings,” he stated flatly.

“They’re clothes, Tommy, not precious heirlooms.”

“And what about next month’s rent? What’ll you have to give up, then?” Even if Laurel let him cover all of it, they’d barely make it along with food and other expenses. He was too proud to ask Oliver for a raise, especially so soon, and it shouldn’t be necessary. None of this was necessary, but Laurel was stubborn enough to go ahead with it anyway.

She seemed to sense his irritation, for it was apologetic eyes she turned on him. “Next month I’m hoping to be out of here. The landlord already said he’s happy to waive the fee for breaking the lease. I think he’ll be glad to have less attacks.” When he didn’t even crack a smile, Laurel started playing with the hem of her sweater. “I’m taking a job at a flower shop for now. So we’ll have to start looking for something in a cheaper neighborhood.”

A flower shop. That was the next grand step in this plan of hers.

He couldn’t believe this. All this time, he’d seen Laurel as something of an unattainable ideal, with some faults perhaps, but nothing in comparison to his own. While he’d been drinking and sleeping through life, she had followed a path to success. And all of that she was willing to give up for the sake of some killer who had decided to make her a centerpiece for his crazed vendetta on the city. He couldn’t just stand by and watch that happen.

Tommy had been trying to make himself better for her, but it seemed clear to him now that the problems in this relationship weren’t just with him.

“Yeah,” he said at last. “Yeah, we will. But separately.”

“What do you mean?”

He gathered a breath. “I thought I wanted this. You. But I was wrong.”

He walked back towards the bedroom. Laurel set her box down and followed him, her eyes widening as she found him pulling clothes out of the drawer — the drawer he had fought tooth and nail to get only a month ago.

“Tommy, talk to me.”

“Why should I? You haven’t been talking to me. Not about meeting up with the Hood, not about the decisions you’re making with your career, the apartment.”

“My career is my choice,” she argued, yet her shoulders slumped as she added, “But I shouldn’t have lied to you about meeting the Hood. I know that, Tommy. And we can still make this work—”

“Just answer me this,” he said, turning back to her as he shut the drawer. “Would you give up everything you’re giving up right now for me?”

Laurel’s head gave a minute shake. “Why would I need to?”

“Exactly. You wouldn’t, because I would never ask you to. But you’re giving it up for him.”

She frowned. “Tommy, this is about what’s best for the city. Not the Hood.”

“It’s about him for me, Laurel,” he stated. “I’m not stupid. You’re committed to him in a way you’re just not to me. I don’t know why, or what this lunatic has that keeps you so loyal to him.”

“He’s—”

Tommy held up a hand. “I don’t really care anymore. I can’t keep caring when you’re ignoring what’s best for you to keep him going. I’m done, Laurel.”

“Tommy, please.” She followed him back out to the front room. “I need you.”

“If you needed me, you wouldn’t have gone to him in the first place.”

Tommy shut the door behind him. He squeezed his eyes shut to hold back the stinging and the tears, and he walked forward to the elevator. Laurel’s crying grew quieter in his ears the further he got away, but not his mind.

He paused in the elevator, his eyes on the apartment door. Then his phone buzzed in his pocket with a news alert.

Hood attacks Queen family matriarch at QC

Tommy’s eyes narrowed, and he hit the close door button. The Hood was an enemy to the people he cared about, whether they could see it for themselves or not.

---

John worked frantically to restart Oliver’s heart. He didn’t know what had gone wrong, but the machine kept up its flat, dead tone.

At least until Felicity Smoak fixed the wires. It was with relief that he realized there was actually nothing wrong with Oliver. His friend was just resting and recovering.

He and Felicity talked while they waited for Oliver to wake up. John could tell she was searching for some kind of reason to stay and accept what was happening, what she now knew. He did his best to explain his own rationale for helping a vigilante.

But at an extremely late hour, the door upstairs opened, revealing a miserable sight.

John stood up straight. “Laurel? Something wrong?”

“Um, hi, John.” The woman’s eyes were red-rimmed, and her voice came out quiet and a little hoarse. She must have been crying a while.

But when her eyes widened upon spotting Oliver on the table, it was any guess as to the reason. “Oliver. Is he okay? What happened?”

Laurel rushed down to their friend’s side, her hand reaching to take his where it hung limply at his side.

“He took a bullet. Should be okay with time,” John told her.

“It was his mother,” Felicity added.

Laurel looked up sharply. “Mrs. Queen?”

John nodded. “We got some intel that she might know something about his father’s list. He tried asking her about it as himself, but she wouldn’t answer. So then he gave it a try as the Hood.”

“And Mrs. Queen gave a try at putting the Hood down,” Felicity remarked.

“She must’ve panicked. If she’d had any idea,” Laurel said. John just stayed quiet. He knew Laurel didn’t have quite as large a blind spot for the Queen matriarch as Oliver did, but she had grown up knowing the woman. It would likely take some time for her to adjust to the idea that Moira Queen wasn’t all she pretended to be.

Laurel wiped her eyes on her sleeve and turned to Felicity. “Um, sorry. I’m Laurel.”

“I know. I saw you on the news a few weeks ago,” Felicity said. “I’m Felicity. I work at Queen Consolidated, which apparently includes doing odd jobs for vigilantes.” She considered Laurel for a moment. “So you really have known who he is. I was wondering.”

“Just for the last month,” Laurel said.

“Did you need something when you came down here, Laurel?” John asked.

“Oh. Yeah, I was hoping to have a look through Ollie’s list. But it can wait.” She returned her gaze to the man’s prone form.

It was another hour before Oliver stirred. His eyes opened and his hand clenched around Laurel’s. John watched her bite back a gasp.

“Ollie, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

“Laurel?” Oliver’s eyes opened and he looked around at the three of them. His grip eased, and then he was pushing himself up to sitting with one arm.

“Easy there. Try not to aggravate your shoulder,” John advised. “You’ve been out most of the night.”

“What happened?”

“Uh, well, I got you to your secret basement like you asked, John patched you up, I hacked the SCPD database to have them dispose of your DNA sample collected at the crime scene, and then Laurel showed up,” Felicity summarized in one breath.

Oliver turned back to Laurel. “Are you okay?”

She looked ready to laugh in disbelief. “I’m fine. You’re the one with a shoulder wound worse than mine was. How are you going to hide this from your family?”

“I’ll manage.”

“Did you want to see the list now, Laurel?” John asked.

Laurel nodded and stepped back from Oliver’s table. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Why do you need the list?” Oliver asked, frowning as she walked away.

“I wanted to make sure which landlords are on it and which aren’t.” She kept her eyes on the pages she was scanning as she continued, “I’m, um, probably moving to the Glades.”

“What?” Oliver slid off the table and winced as the impact reached his shoulder, but he shook it off. “Laurel, the Glades aren’t safe.”

“Yes, but they’re what I can afford. The only work I’ve found is at a florist’s shop, and if I can walk there instead of using public transit, that’ll save me money, too.”

“That the shop on Wells and 17th?” John asked. He’d noticed the help wanted sign in its window a few times as he’d passed by.

“Uh-huh.”

“Laurel, you’re not a florist,” Oliver said. “You’re a lawyer.”

“Well, there aren’t any law offices that want me. Wish I’d known that before I paid all that money to get the degree,” she remarked. John could see the effort she was going through to keep things light. He still didn’t know what had had her so upset when she arrived. “Okay, so none of the Nickel properties are worth looking into…”

Oliver shook his head. “Those offices will reconsider with time. Look, if you’re that tight for money, I’ll just raise Tommy’s salary so you have more time to look or you can work here with him—”

“Tommy broke up with me,” Laurel stated bluntly, at last looking up from the list. Her mouth pulled down in a terribly sad frown.

Oliver froze. “He left you?”

“He packed his things and walked out tonight.”

“Because of everything that’s happening.” Oliver looked down for a long moment. “I’ll tell him the truth.”

John’s eyes widened, though before he could speak up Laurel was already replying with common sense.

“No, you can’t. He hates the Hood worse than ever, Ollie. There’s no telling how he’d react.” She heaved a sigh. “And it wouldn’t fix the rest of the problems we’ve had. I gave a relationship with Tommy a shot because I was tired of constantly having to turn him down. And I liked it, but — it’s over now. He can’t agree with my choices, and I can’t force him to.”

There was a heavy silence after those words. John noticed Felicity was busying herself by the table with the newer computers she’d set up, and he had a feeling the woman was desperate to be anywhere but here.

“I can still get you a job. Maybe not at the club, but Queen Consolidated. I’m sure we could find something for you,” Oliver offered.

“After the Hood attacked their CEO?”

John looked down. He could see where this was going, and it didn’t lead to any of Laurel’s problems having an easy fix. That was going to be partly on him since he’d been behind the push to send the Hood after Mrs. Queen, and all for no new information, as it was turning out.

“Oliver, if you want people to believe your cover for not being the Hood, for not even liking him, you can’t have anything to do with me.”

Oliver’s face took on a look of alarm as he started towards her. “Laurel—”

She set the list down and took a step back. “Your mother’s just been attacked by a man you’ve been claiming is insane. If I continue believing in the Hood — which I will, since I know you never meant to hurt your own mother — it would be impossible for you to keep being my friend. We can’t have contact, at least not in public.”

Words were failing Oliver. Combined with his shoulder wound, the man looked absolutely broken. He and the rest of them could only watch as Laurel made her way to the stairs.

“I’m sorry. It was nice meeting you,” she added to Felicity. For one moment, she stared at Oliver with eyes that practically ached. Then she looked down and climbed the staircase, the door closing with finality behind her.

“Well,” Felicity said eventually. “I think I’ll be heading home myself. I’ve got an early morning.” She reached for her coat and started for the door.

“Felicity,” Oliver said quietly. The woman paused. “Thank you for everything you did tonight. I understand it was a lot to bring you in on so quickly.”

“Yeah.” She fiddled with her keys. “Not that I’m not grateful you felt you could finally trust me with the truth about all this. But just, no offense, from where I’m standing, being associated with you seems to destroy a person’s life.”

Oliver stayed silent, not even attempting to argue against that assessment.

“So I’m not going to tell the police about you, and I will work with you to find Walter. But that’s it, and after that we’re done.”

Oliver gave a slow nod. “That’s fine.”

“Okay. Well, goodnight. I’m glad you didn’t die.” She, too, headed up the stairs and at of the foundry.

A very heavy, very uncomfortable silence fell once it was just the two of them. John knew it was up to him to try and bridge it. “Oliver, I’m sorry things worked out like this.”

“What is this like, Diggle?” Oliver asked. “A disaster? Because that’s how it seems to me.”

“You couldn’t have known Tommy was going to call things quits. And that relationship needed to run its course without you anyway.”

“But it’s not without me, John.” Oliver’s look was absolutely guilt-stricken. “Tommy was jealous of the Hood. And with him gone, and her and Lance not speaking, and now this, she’s totally on her own. I did that.”

“A lot of that was Laurel’s choices, too,” he pointed out quietly.

“I forced her into them. I should have realized the danger I was putting her in. The risks. Now it’s too late. But I’m not taking them with anyone else.” Oliver pulled on a sweatshirt, then took two steps towards John, getting right into his space.

“My mother — any of my loved ones, are off limits. For good this time.”

He’d known it was coming, and there was little he could say without them coming to blows over it. And without any more information about this Undertaking, he had no real leverage.

Oliver turned and stormed from the base. John sighed, then got to work finishing cleaning up.

To think things had somehow only gotten worse even after Oliver had been shot.

#lauriver #laurel x oliver #laurel lance #oliver queen #arrow #green arrow #black canary #my writing #bird in a storm

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raywritesthings · 5 years

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Wrong Road to the Right Place 12/?

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Oliver Queen, Laurel Lance, Quentin Lance, John Diggle, Thea Queen, Moira Queen, Joanna de la Vega Pairings: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: Laurel finds herself curious about the marks Oliver showed her that night in his bedroom - and the tattoo on his left shoulder stands out in particular. When she discovers its meaning, she finds herself questioning everything she knows about the man she doesn’t want to admit she still loves. *Can also be read on my AO3 page*

Laurel let herself into her apartment and went straight back to the closet in her room, eyeing everything that hung there critically. It had been quite a few years since she’d needed to attend some fancy to-do like this, and she wasn’t exactly sure if anything she had was up to snuff.

A second opinion would probably help. Thea was out of the question, both because she was not about to ask Oliver’s sister what to wear on a date with him and also because she wouldn’t have a good idea of what Laurel had on hand. Joanna had been on a few shopping trips with her, though, and even talked her into buying a couple of the dresses she now owned. And she’d missed talking to her friend about casual stuff like this.

Laurel set her phone on speaker as she took a couple of items out and laid them on her bed. After two rings, it was picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Jo, it’s me.”

“Hey, how’s everything been going? CNRI coping without me?”

“Just barely,” Laurel answered with a grin. “I’m going out tonight, and I wanted your opinion on what to wear.”

“Well, what kind of going out are we talking here?” Her friend asked. “Clubbing? Drinks with a friend? Dare I even say a date?”

“Believe it or not, it is.”

“What?” Laurel was glad she didn’t have the phone to her ear, because that exclamation would have had her wincing. “Oh my God, the day has come! What kind of date? With who?”

“It’s one of those fancy rich people auctions,” Laurel explained, then braced herself as she added, “and Oliver invited me.”

There was a beat of silence. Then Joanna started.

“Well, well, well.”

Laurel held back a groan. Just barely. “I know.”

“I didn’t say anything yet.”

“Go ahead.”

“I just seem to remember you being very dead set against anything like this happening when Oliver got back — not that anyone would blame you. But seriously, did he at least get down on his knees and beg first?” Joanna asked.

“I know what I said before.” Laurel shook her head. “I can’t really explain it, but he’s just a different person than he was, Joanna. He’s still Oliver, but I know I can trust him now. He gets that life isn’t just some game you can solve with money and good looks, and he really cares about how his actions affect other people. That’s on his mind a lot.” The whole reason he’d taken on the mission of the Hood in the first place was the responsibility he felt to right the wrongs his father committed.

“Well, I guess as long as you’re happy with it, that’s what matters,” her friend said. Laurel didn’t answer that.

Was she happy? She felt better than she had the last few months, knowing the truth and being involved in more than just the sidelines. And everything she’d told Joanna about Oliver was true; she really believed he’d learned from his mistakes and was working every day to be better. She respected that about him and cared for him because of it, even if they weren’t actually dating. And she could admit, if only to herself, she wouldn’t mind if they actually were.

“So, wardrobe advice?”

Laurel blinked. “Uh, yeah. Trying to decide between the red or blue dress. Floor length, the both of them. You know which ones I’m talking about, right?”

“Uh-huh. Well, they’re both good choices for that kind of event. I guess the question is, what kind of mood are you trying to set?”

Laurel wasn’t sure how to put ‘catching an art thief’ into a mood. “Nothing in particular. It’s just a date, Jo.”

“Yeah, but there’s a difference between bold, hooking-up-after-this red and elegant, I’ll-invite-you-up-if-you’re-lucky blue. You know?”

“We’re not hooking up,” Laurel stated. And she wasn’t looking to stand out from the crowd so much as blend in so she could spot the thief that didn’t belong. “Blue it is. Thanks. Let me know if you’re free sometime soon.”

“Oh, I will. I have got to get these details, for one thing. And I’ve missed you a lot,” Joanna added before she could even start to roll her eyes. “I’ll let you get ready for your date. Have fun.”

“I’ll try.” Laurel picked up the blue dress as Joanna hung up and held it in front of a mirror. She wasn’t sure how much fun tonight would be, but it definitely would be interesting.

She’d finished getting ready with five minutes to spare when Oliver sent the text that he was outside. Laurel took the elevator down and found John waiting in front of the car to open the back door for her.

“Miss Lance.”

“Thank you, Mr. Diggle.” She had to bite her lip to hold in a smile. Sometimes playing along with the charade just felt a little ridiculous, and tonight promised to be especially over the top.

Oliver was sitting in the back as she slid inside, and he looked up. There was a brief pause, and he licked his lips before saying, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you. You cleaned up well, too.” She was glad the lights were low in the car; her face was already feeling a little warm as she looked him up and down in the tux. She was painfully aware of her own words of a few months ago: obviously, we’re still attracted to each other.

Oliver cleared his throat and leaned over as the car started to move, showing Laurel his phone screen. “This is the brooch I’ve donated from my family’s collection. We’ll need to keep our eyes on it and on the lookout for Dodger. Winnick Norton is his actual name, though I doubt he’ll be using it to get into the event.”

“Right.” Laurel studied the photo for a few minutes before passing it back over. “Any reason why he’ll be interested in the brooch and not anything else?”

“Everything he steals comes from the same time period. The Ominous Decade. The brooch will be the only piece from that time at the gala, so it’s the only option he’s got.”

“Well, that’s lucky.”

“We’re coming up to the front, you two,” Digg called into the back. “I’ll drop you off and park, then see if I can get any intel from event security.”

“Sounds good,” Oliver replied. He got out when the car stopped, walking around to her door and opening it for her. As much as she wanted to shake her head at all the formality, she knew the important thing to do was to go along with it and not seem suspicious.

He offered his arm, and she took it, walking up the steps and through the front doors. There were already a few people milling about and admiring the exhibits.

“Mr. Queen.” A woman in a smart pantsuit walked up to them. “Thank you so much for your generous donation. I hope you enjoy the event.”

“Of course, it was my pleasure,” Oliver replied with a quick smile. They moved on and he leaned in close to murmur in her ear, “The important thing is to always have someone’s eyes on the brooch. We don’t want Dodger sending someone to grab it right out from under our noses.”

“Alright, so take turns?”

She felt as much as saw his nod as his chin tickled her hair. Laurel was about to turn to him when she was suddenly blinded by the flash of a camera.

“Oliver Queen and Dinah Laurel Lance! Out for a night together?”

Paparazzi. The absolute worst part of these high society functions. She hadn’t missed them.

“Miss Lance! Does this mean you’ve forgiven Mr. Queen for the events of five years ago?”

“Uh, no comment,” Laurel stammered. She could barely make out any individual faces through the next several camera flashes.

“Mr. Queen!”

“Miss Lance!”

“If you all could back up, please,” John requested, appearing from what seemed thin air and using his bodyguard position to his advantage. A fair few of the paparazzi were inclined to listen to him based on the authority in his voice and look alone.

“Come on,” Oliver muttered in her ear. With one hand at the small of her back, he guided her out into an empty side hall, the heavy doors shutting out the shouts and clicks of cameras.

Laurel drew in and let out a breath.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” She glanced to the side at him. “Just forgot how intense the paparazzi could be at these kind of events.”

“They shouldn’t even get in the door,” Oliver said with a frown. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Oliver. I should be well aware what dating you entails by now.”

He was silent, though she could tell there was a lot on his mind.

“Hey, you need to get back out there, okay? I’ll join you and John in a few minutes.”

“Okay.” Oliver brushed his fingers along her arm briefly, then turned and slipped back through the door to the main room. Laurel swallowed and tried to ignore the goosebumps his touch had left behind on her arm.

Was this just attraction or something more? She could never seem to keep her head straight around Oliver.

But she needed to get a grip. Tonight wasn’t about them. That was just the cover. They had a dangerous man to catch.

Laurel adjusted her grip on the clutch she carried and stepped forward towards the doors—

A gloved hand gripped her forearm and a stick was shoved in her face. Sparks flew from the tip for a brief instant, causing her to jump back, right into the chest of the man threatening her with it.

“Careful there, love. That’s a stun baton. I would hate to have to use it on you.”

“You’re the Dodger,” she breathed.

“You’ve heard of my work? I’m flattered,” the thief said in her ear. She felt him slide something around her neck and click it into place, and her heart rate picked up with a sudden spike of fear. The bomb collar.

“Now then, since you know what I do, I’ll just cut right to the chase. There’s a pretty little brooch on display out in that room that I need you to get for me. You do that and bring it back here without alerting the authorities, and I’ll let you go safe and sound.”

Laurel had to think fast. She couldn’t do as he asked because that would mean losing the brooch and him. How closely would he be watching her out in that room? Could she somehow get Oliver or John’s attention? Or was that putting too many people at risk?

And there was a part of her that was just about fed up with all these attacks on her.

Laurel dropped her clutch so she had one hand free to reach back and grab a fistful of the Dodger’s shirt while knocking his arm that held the stun baton behind. She failed to duck his own swing at her when she spun around, but before he could follow it up Laurel returned it with her own punch to his face.

He dropped the baton with a grunt, and it went rolling out of reach for the both of them. She could either let go of her grip on the Dodger to run for it or—

Laurel tightened her hold on his shirt collar, dragging him closer, and grabbed his arm with her other hand, twisting his wrist so that he let out a sharp gasp of pain. “Get this thing off me.”

“And why would I do that, darling?”

“Because if you don’t, I’m gonna march us right back through those doors for everyone to see.”

Dodger’s eyes narrowed. “If you do that I’ll—”

“What, blow us both up?” Laurel couldn’t help a smirk as she watched the realization sink in. “You don’t like to get your own hands dirty on a job, do you? That’s why you force other people to steal. Well, sometimes the people you want to use know how to fight back.”

“You’re bluffing,” he rasped.

“No, Mr. Norton, you are,” she said. “Which one of us is going to call it?”

They stared at each other for several tense moments, Dodger trying to break her hold and Laurel keeping a firm grasp on his arm. It was her only option at this point; letting the thief go meant her death. If he proved stronger than her, this wasn’t going to end in her favor.

She couldn’t pinpoint how long their confrontation had been going on, just that there was sweat beginning to bead at her brow. But it was long enough that the door to the main hall opened again, and Oliver stuck his head back in.

“Laurel, are you—” He froze.

Dodger struggled harder, and she scraped at his calf with her heel in retaliation. He gave a yelp and then glared.

“Ollie, hey,” Laurel said, forcing her tone to remain light. Whatever Dodger would think of her, they couldn’t afford anyone getting ideas that Oliver had been here to set him up. “Get Mr. Diggle?”

Oliver stood there another moment before turning sharply and indicating to someone back in the main room. Then he came forward and took hold of both Dodger’s wrist and his neck, shoving him up against a wall.

“Oliver!”

“Who are you, and what have you done to Laurel?” It was a wonder he’d even remembered to play ignorant considering he wasn’t bothering to hide his anger in the slightest.

“The better question is what’s she done to me,” Dodger replied. “Unbelievable. A vigilante spoiled my first attempt in Starling and now this. Your police should hang up their caps in shame.”

John came through with some additional security from the event, and he took over holding Dodger in place while the thief was searched. A device turned up that was apparently linked to the collar still around her neck.

“Here, hold still. I handled bombs in Afghanistan,” John said, one hand on her shoulder. He hit one of the buttons and the collar popped loose. Laurel let out a breath as John removed it and passed it over to security.

“I’m not scared. I don’t know why I’m shaking.”

“That’s the adrenaline,” John told her. “It’ll wear off.”

Oliver meanwhile was doing his best impression of an indignant rich person. “I want this man in a cell at the SCPD.”

“Of course, Mr. Queen. We apologize for the ordeal you and your guest were put through.”

Dodger was taken away, and Oliver immediately turned around to face her now that it was the three of them. “What happened?”

“I was about to head back out to you and Digg, but Dodger grabbed me from behind. He must have been looking for people on their own to use as his proxy.” Laurel shrugged. “I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction.”

“You’re okay?”

“Yeah. He threatened me, mostly, but I wasn’t hurt much.” Her side where he’d struck it was a little sore, but nothing felt broken or anything serious.

Oliver stepped forward and cupped her face with both hands. For a single moment, Laurel thought — but he pressed a kiss to the top of her head instead. She couldn’t help a slight feeling of disappointment she did her best to hide.

The murmur in the main room was getting loud enough to be noticed, and in the distance the wail of a police siren was getting louder. Laurel sighed, not at all in the mood to stand around answering questions or giving a statement while the paparazzi no doubt hovered around taking pictures.

“What’s the betting it’s my dad?”

“Could be McKenna Hall. She was at the scene when I went after Dodger the first time. But they can wait. You two head out the back, and I’ll talk to the organizers and the cops.” Oliver made to leave, but paused and looked to Digg. “Stay with her.”

“You got it.”

As much as she didn’t want to be coddled, she was also glad for the excuse to get out of there, so Laurel followed after Digg to the lot where he’d parked. It felt weird to get in the back when she was the only other person in the car, but Oliver would be rejoining them at some point.

“So, not exactly a night on the town,” she remarked.

“No. Never is when it comes to Oliver. But now we can focus on getting the truth about Malcolm Merlyn, so I’d say this worked out for the best.”

Malcolm Merlyn. On one hand, if it was true that meant they were that much closer to stopping things. On the other, her heart felt heavy whenever she considered the idea that Tommy’s dad might be involved. What would that do to their friend?

“Sort of makes you grateful to the Dodger for the distraction,” she muttered.

“Maybe so. But Laurel—”

She looked up. Her friend and trainer gave her an approving nod.

“Nice job.”

She smiled back at him. “Thanks, John.”

—-

“We’re really making a habit of this,” McKenna remarked as she walked up to him.

Oliver tote his gaze from where Dodger was being led to a squad car by a cop and shook his head. “I kept my nose clean this time. Just here to represent my family.”

“So how come you’re the one being questioned?”

“Norton tried to attack my date, and I said I’d answer the questions for her for the moment. She promises to come down to the station tomorrow for a more complete statement, but I had my bodyguard take her to the car to avoid the cameras.”

“Ah.” McKenna gave a single nod. “I will need your date’s name now, though. Has to go in the file.”

It was definitely fortunate she was primarily working this case as opposed to Lance. Oliver still briefly cleared his throat before replying, “Dinah Laurel Lance.”

McKenna looked up instead of writing, both eyebrows raised. “Well, that’s a turn up for the books. Sorry, not professional.”

“That’s okay. We knew people would find it a little surprising.”

“Alright. I know Laurel’s good for showing up to the station, so I’ll let you get back to her. I hope she’s okay.”

“I’ll tell her you said so.” Oliver turned and started to walk towards the exit, but McKenna calling out to him brought him to a stop.

“Hey, Oliver!”

He turned back.

“I’d appreciate if you continued to keep your nose clean, if you catch my drift. Or me and the others in the bullpen are never gonna hear the end of it.” She cracked a wry grin as she said it. “Sorry.”

“I deserved it. And I promise you’ve got nothing to worry about.” He was able to leave after that for the car and got into the back. “We got lucky.”

“McKenna?” Laurel asked, and he nodded. She relaxed back against the seat. “Good.”

“He’ll probably be finding out soon,” Oliver felt he had to point out. He wasn’t insulted that Laurel seemed keen to prolong that moment; the last thing he really wanted was Lance even more on his case.

But there was something on his mind that was troubling him. “You fought Dodger.”

“Yeah. Well, I knew if I went along with what he wanted, we’d lose him.” She wasn’t looking at him. Instead her gaze was on her hands where they played with the clasp on her clutch. “The thing is, I’ve sort of been, um—”

“I offered to give her some pointers on keeping safe,” Digg interrupted. “She’s got defensive basics down. We’ve just been going over technique.”

“Uh-huh.” Oliver highly doubted it had actually been John to make the offer. More likely, Laurel had asked and he had agreed. He looked at her. “We talked about you staying safe.”

She was eyeing him with that familiar stubborn light in her eyes. “Well, sometimes fighting back is how you stay safe.”

“But sometimes that can end badly. I am grateful that didn’t happen tonight, but the people I go up against are dangerous, Laurel. They don’t fight fair, and there are times when I nearly haven’t won. And times when I haven’t.”

“I know that. And I never said I wanted to take on the Dark Archer in hand-to-hand, but I want to be useful to the team,” she insisted. “And that starts with me not being helpless.”

“I never said you were, but Laurel, I need you to be safe.”

“You’ve said.”

He shook his head. “You don’t understand. If something happened to you out there because I got you involved in this mission, I couldn’t live with myself.”

It was silent in the car for a long moment. Laurel’s lips were parted slightly, and she couldn’t seem to find the words for a moment. “Ollie…”

“Laurel, we’re at your building.”

“Okay. Thanks, John.” She reached for the handle and glanced once back his way. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he echoed softly as she left the car. He watched as she walked up to her building and disappeared through the doors with a swish of the skirt of her dress. Maybe it had been too much to hope for a lovely evening, but even when she was walking away from him she was beautiful.

Diggle’s voice called him back to reality.

“Man, you really lost your smooth moves on that island.”

Oliver sighed. “Home, John.”

When he did step through the doors of the mansion, he walked into something of an ambush. Thea popped out of the sitting room and gave a sigh of relief at the sight of him. Then she called back over her shoulder, “He’s home, mom!”

“Speedy, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, well you tell us. You’re the one who went to a gala where that bomber guy showed up.”

Right. He walked up to her as their mom was standing up from the couch and shutting off the news.

“I’m fine, promise.”

“What were you even doing there anyway?”

“I was on a date with Laurel,” he answered his sister. “Which you will probably see covered in the next tabloid issues. So don’t read those.”

“Laurel?” His mom repeated. “You’re seeing her?”

“Yeah.” He watched her for a moment. She seemed almost alarmed. “Is that okay?”

His mother recovered her usual grace with that question. “Of course it is. I’m just surprised, I suppose. Pleasantly.”

“Yeah, he really lucked out on that one,” Thea remarked.

He looked at her. “Don’t you need to be in bed so you can be well-rested for school?”

Thea rolled her eyes and made off for the stairs. “Night.”

He and their mom both replied in kind, and then Oliver turned back to her. “I’m sorry for worrying you or Thea. I promise everything was fine tonight. We were in more danger from the paparazzi than a bomber.”

“They can certainly be as ruthless as one,” she agreed.

He nodded and started to make his own way to the stairs.

“Oliver?”

He backed up until the sitting room was in view again. “Yeah, mom?”

His mother walked up to him, her hands clasped together. “Perhaps, in light of all the attention from the press, it might be best for you and Laurel to take some time away from Starling. There’s the beach house in Coast City. I’m sure some staff could have it ready within a week.”

“Not exactly beach season yet, mom.”

“No, maybe not on the West Coast,” she agreed. “There’s always some of the other vacation properties.”

Oliver stared at her for a moment. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she wanted him out of the city for another reason. And maybe he did know better. But whatever his mother was mixed up in — whether it involved Malcolm Merlyn or not — couldn’t involve getting him out of the way. At least, not when she didn’t know his identity.

“I’ll think about it,” he told her. It was an empty promise, but hopefully it would put her at ease for the time being. “Maybe once the club is up and running.”

“Alright.” She placed a hand to his cheek and smiled. “It’s good to see you happy again. I really am proud of you, sweetheart.”

In spite of everything he did and didn’t know about her, he couldn’t help himself feeling touched by the praise. “Thanks, mom.”

“I just want you to stay safe.”

“I try to,” he lied. His mother couldn’t know, of course, that there were reasons he had to take risks out there if he was going to save this city.

It took him a while to reach sleep once he had gotten into bed. He was tired, but there was still so much on his mind.

His mother wanted him to be safe while she engaged in who knew what; in turn, he wanted Laurel to be safe while going out there and risking his life most every night. Was he too much his mother’s son? Was it hypocritical of him? How did he balance his care for Laurel with respecting her decisions?

Oliver rolled onto his side and reached for his wallet. He took out the old picture that still sat there, his thumb smoothing over one of the folded corners. For five years, Laurel and her life and safety had kept him going through the worst tortures. But now that he was back, maybe it was time to stop imagining her or what she might say. Maybe it was time to listen to the actual person.

—-

“Detective, you got a minute?”

Quentin looked up from his desk at Hall’s approach. She was a good cop, even as new as she was. He’d been considering bringing her onto the task force for some time now. “Yeah, what can I do for you?”

“Nothing, really. Just wanted to give you a heads up. We brought in the Dodger.”

“I heard. Good work on that.”

She smiled briefly, but shook her head. “Can’t take too much credit. Private security at the gala detained him after an altercation with one of the guests.” She paused. “That guest was your daughter.”

Quentin’s mouth dropped open. “Laurel? What was she doing at one of those things?” She hadn’t been anywhere near that high society nonsense, not since—

“She was there on invitation. And she’ll be coming in to fill out a witness report for me tomorrow. Just thought I’d let you know.”

Hall left for her desk before he could demand any further information. But he had a rotten feeling in his gut, and it started with a Q.

He made sure he was in the bullpen bright and early the next morning, not wanting to miss Laurel’s arrival. Quentin hadn’t had a real chance to talk to her since their fight about the Hood’s phone, and that had been eating at him. So had Merlyn’s information about her sniffing around something to do with the Triad. And now with this, well, the silent treatment was out the window. Clearly if he didn’t keep a close watch on things, his daughter tended to lose her head.

Laurel showed up around 10:30, easily navigating her way through the station. Hall had gone for coffee,

Which left Laurel standing in the bullpen looking for the right desk. There was his opening.

“Hey, honey.”

“Dad.” Laurel’s expression was guarded at best. He might have felt guilty about that, but more likely she was feeling guilty. “I’m actually hear to see McKenna about a witness report.”

“Yeah, I heard. You were at that fancy auction last night. And how might you have come by an invite to that?”

Her voice was flat as she responded, “Dad, don’t do this here.”

“Do what? Catch up with my daughter? See if she’s doing okay? Ask her why in God’s name she’s decided to spit on her sister’s memory and go back to that cheating—”

“Yeah, that. That exactly,” Laurel cut him off just as his voice was starting to raise. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that Oliver is a changed person. I don’t know how much more evidence you need put in front of your own eyes, but he is. And I know that doesn’t bring Sara back, but I also know it was never his intention for her to die out there. So you can stop acting like it was.”

“Why are you wasting your time on him? Defending him? Just answer me that,” he said. “You’re always involving yourself with the wrong people. I just don’t know what I did for you to grow up that way.”

Laurel scoffed, her arms folded.

“Well, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Laurel, hey.” Hall had just entered the bullpen with her mug. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“That’s okay,” his daughter replied, turning away from him completely. “I probably would have been held up regardless.”

She joined Hall at her desk, and they were both talking too quietly for him to pick up anything of use. With a scowl, Quentin returned to his own seat.

Laurel left the station without a goodbye, not that he was inclined to give his own. Hall got up without the file and left the room. Quentin glanced around. Hilton hadn’t come in yet, and no one else was going to call him on it.

He got up from his desk with some papers in hand and crossed the bullpen to Hall’s desk. Laurel’s witness report was still sitting right on top. He flipped through the testimony, his eyes widening as he read.

She’d fought off that thieving maniac? With a bomb collar strapped around her neck? What was going on in this city? And where the hell had Queen been?

Quentin had to hurry back to his desk at the sound of Hall’s approach, but his mind was buzzing. Laurel could have died last night. He could have lost his only daughter, all because of some date she’d been on with Queen. That rich idiot didn’t know when to quit.

He took off from his shift a little early and headed down to the bar. It was that kind of day. Quentin sat there, shoulders hunched as he nursed one, and then two, and then three drinks.

Trouble followed that man wherever he went. Less than two days after he’d come back, he’d been kidnapped. Then there’d been the hit at that party he’d held while under house arrest. Now this. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it was a pattern.

Actually, there’d been something else. He’d been there, too, that first night someone had tried breaking in to Laurel’s apartment. The Triad.

That had seemed open and shut. Martin Sommers had been working with them, and Laurel had been in the midst of prosecuting him. But then strange how Queen had just happened to be there.

And then again, when he’d first gotten worried, when he’d found out she had a client with Bratva ties — she’d been handling Queen’s case. She’d told him when he begged her to leave the Bratva alone that she didn’t have that client anymore...just after he’d dropped the charges on Queen.

Laurel wasn’t an idiot. If she really was seeing Queen, something about him had to be different than when he’d left on that boat. But that something didn’t have to be good. Laurel was just as bad as he was about attracting trouble. Quentin just couldn’t let go of the idea that there was some kind of connection between these seemingly disparate events.

Was he drunk? Was he crazy? Seeing something that wasn’t there?

Quentin put down some money for his tab and stumbled off the stool. He had to get this down in writing. Start drumming up some leads.

As he left the bar, he got a whiff of himself. It was pretty obvious where he’d been. He couldn’t go to the station like this.

Lance staggered home, his intent to shower and then to get to work on this clear in his mind. But by the time he cleared the front steps it was all he could do to make it to the couch.

Tomorrow. He would start tomorrow.

#lauriver #laurel x oliver #laurel lance #oliver queen #arrow #john diggle #thea queen #moira queen #quentin lance #mckenna hall #black canary #green arrow #joanna de la vega #my writing

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habibialkaysani · 5 years

Text

The Devil in Star City (Laurel/Nyssa; T) - Part IV

Ships: Laurel/Joanna, Laurel/Tommy

Summary: “My name is Laurel Lance. When I was eight years old I was in a car accident that left me without sight. But in the process, my other senses were heightened.

By day, I am a defence attorney, ready to fight for justice in the courtroom on behalf of those who the law has failed. By night, I am someone else. I am something else.

I am Daredevil.”

Part I

Part II

Part III

A/N: I'm moving back and forth in the timeline a fair amount, but hopefully it's clear when this is set if you've watched the first episode of Daredevil. Essentially Laurel and Joanna are newly qualified as lawyers and their new client turns out to be someone Laurel knows.

Thanks to @amidalas-shadow for helping me when I was stuck.

Read at AO3

“So remind me how you got this case again?” Laurel asked Joanna as they were led through the police precinct to Interrogation Room 2.

Thankfully - for Joanna, that is - she didn't have time to answer. They had reached the room and already the cop on duty was opening the door for them - but only an inch, just enough for Jo to get a glimpse inside.

“I'm in the middle of an interrogation, counsellor.”

“I can see that.” Laurel knew now that Jo was craning her neck to take a better look at the person inside. “You wanna tell me why you think the cuffs are necessary for a man with no priors, Detective Boland?”

“Mr Merlyn was found red-handed at the scene of a murder,” the detective replied. “And I don't mean that metaphorically. So yeah. They're necessary.”

Laurel groaned inwardly - what had Jo gotten them into? Nevertheless, she was a lawyer, she reminded herself, as of twelve hours ago. She had a job to do.

“Did he resist arrest?” Laurel asked.

“Why is that relevant?” Detective Boland shot back.

“Just curious.”

“No, he did not.”

Laurel folded her arms. “Then can you at least allow our client the dignity of being uncuffed while you give us the room?”

“She just rolled her eyes, for the record, Laurel,” Jo said.

“Fine.”

There was a click as the handcuffs on their client were taken off him, and then the detective held the door open for Laurel and her partner.

“Thanks,” Laurel said, but Tina didn’t reply, just huffed a sigh and left the room, shutting the door behind her with a little more dour force than required.

“Dinah? Is that you?”

Shit.

She recognised that voice. Hell, she could have recognised it when he murmured “thank you” to Boland after she took his cuffs off, but Laurel hadn't been paying attention at that point. And to do what she did, Laurel had to pay attention.

Now, though, while she didn't need to feign her surprise, she did need to pretend not to be too annoyed that it was him.

“Oh my God. Uh. Tommy, right? Hi. It's been a while.”

“Wait, you know this guy?” Jo demanded, and Laurel had to mask a slight smile because it almost sounded like Jo was jealous.

“Not exactly.”

“What exactly does ‘not exactly’ mean? And I thought you didn't like being called Dinah?”

“I never said I didn't like it. And it's just what I go by during AA meetings.”

“Oh.”

Laurel could tell Jo felt bad, then, and she was about to say something to her partner, only for Tommy to finally get a word in edgeways. “Who are you?”

“I'm Joanna de la Vega, and this is my associate, Dinah Laurel Lance.”

“We've met,” Laurel said unnecessarily. “And I prefer Laurel. We're your lawyers.”

“I can't afford a lawyer,” Tommy said.

Jo barely skipped a beat. “See, Mr Merlyn -”

“Tommy. Please.”

“Tommy - that would have been a dealbreaker for me, but I have a feeling my partner’s not gonna give up that easily when she’s trying to save the world.”

At this Laurel couldn’t think up a witty remark in time, and Tommy asked, “How did you even find me?”

Laurel straightened a little and nudged Jo with her elbow. “That's an excellent question, Mr Merlyn, one that I'll let my partner answer.”

Jo shook her head and sighed. “Okay, fine - I may or may not have asked the desk sergeant to tip me off if anything interesting turned up.”

“And me being suspected of murder counts as interesting?”

Now Laurel resisted the urge to laugh, because only Jo would do that. “You gave Mckenna’s mother cigars again, didn’t you?”

“It’s a free country, and we need our first client, so unless you have any better ideas, hun -”

“Jo, sweetie, can I have a word with you privately, please?”

“Sure. Give us a second, Tommy.”

Laurel got to her feet and went to the corner of the room with Jo at her heels. “What the hell is this?” Laurel demanded. “I thought the whole reason we left Landman and Zach was because we wanted to do something better.”

“And you know I love you dearly for your idealism, but we can’t live off it. Besides, what happened to ‘innocent until proven guilty’? What happened to the idea that everyone deserves representation?”

“But he’s a criminal.”

“How can you know that for sure?”

Laurel couldn’t say anything now, about how she could hear Tommy’s heartbeat going as fast as a jackhammer and she knew he was hiding something, or that she just had a bad feeling about all of this - not when she knew Jo wouldn’t believe a word she said. And even if she did, Jo was right. They needed a first case. One way or another.

“I don't,” Laurel said finally.

“Exactly. Give the poor guy a chance. At least hear him out.”

Huffing a sigh, Laurel knew already that she was going to give in. “Okay.”

Brightening, Jo put her hands on Laurel’s shoulders. “All right! Now, you’re gonna listen to your best friend, and you’re gonna waltz on over and tell Tommy how honoured you are to represent him.”

“Why can't you do it?”

“You have an in with him.”

“It was one meeting, over a year ago, and it kind of defeats the purpose of the whole anonymity thing -”

“And I don’t want to ask you when I know it’s a sore subject -”

“It’s not,” Laurel cut across her.

“Fine. A sensitive one, then. But you have something in common. So use it.”

Laurel groaned. “Why do you hate me?” But still, she straightened up, made her way over to - God help her - their client and said reluctantly, “Tommy, we would be honoured to represent you. How would you like to be our first client?”

“Maybe you shouldn't have led with that,” Joanna said from beside her as she pulled out her chair and sat down.

“Wait, so you've never done this before?” Tommy said. “I thought you said you were -”

“We are fully qualified for the job, I assure you,” Laurel cut across him. “We’re also smart and quick learners. Why don't you tell us what happened, Tommy?”

“I already told that cop, I didn't do it.”

Laurel was surprised. His heartbeat had slowed, enough to make her doubt herself.

“I believe you,” she said before she could think about it, and she knew Joanna was glaring at her now. “We believe you. Don’t we, Jo?”

A sigh, then, through gritted teeth, “Yeah, we do,” from Joanna.

“And we're gonna help you with this,” Laurel said. “I give you my word. But you'll have to start from the beginning, please.”

“I don't know what happened, okay? I - I was meeting Max after work last night. I'd offered to buy him a drink.”

“You're referring to the murder victim, Max Fuller?”

“God, I still can’t believe he’s -” Tommy halted, and Laurel knew that his eyes had tears in them - just another way that he surprised her.

“You cared for him,” Laurel said slowly.

“He was a nice guy,” Tommy said.

“How did you know him?”

“Work. I’m the finance administrator for Union Allied Construction. Max is - was - in the HR department.”

“And why did you meet him?”

Silence. Tommy shuffled uncomfortably in his seat.

Then Jo said, “We can’t help you unless you’re honest with us. You know that, right?”

“We were just friends going for a beer after work.”

“I take it that means you’ve fallen off the wagon, then?” Laurel blurted before she could stop herself.

She regretted it almost instantly, but by then the damage had been done as Tommy scoffed bitterly.

“Probably more accurate to say I was never on it to begin with. Let's just say the programme didn’t really work out for me.”

Silence fell - the dense, deeply uncomfortable kind that Laurel felt she could have cut in half with a knife.

“So what happened?” Jo cut in, to Laurel's relief. “With Max?”

“I don't remember,” Tommy said, his heartbeat steady. “One minute we were talking and the next - everything was spinning and I blacked out.”

“And it wasn't because of the booze.”

It hadn't been a question, but Tommy answered it anyway. “No. I'm long past the point where two beers can do anything for me.”

“What were you talking about?”

“Why does it even matter?”

“A man is dead, Tommy. Surely that's reason enough for everything to matter?” Laurel was guilt-tripping him now, she knew that, but she also knew that there was no way this was the whole story.

There was a sniffle and then Laurel was the one feeling guilty. “You don't need to tell me that.” Then he paused, before saying, “Okay. We were out for a drink because I haven't been at this place long and honestly it's hard to meet people in the city. Especially when you're always working. It gets lonely. So we talked, not a whole lot, about work, about family. He has - had - a wife. Two kids. He was saying how the little one was keeping him up at night. And then the next thing I knew, I was in my apartment, covered in blood. His blood.” Tommy was crying now - Laurel could hear it in his voice and practically taste the salt of tears in the air as he gulped and said, “I didn’t do this. Please. You’ve gotta believe me. I’m not a murderer. And I don't know why you're both here - especially you, Dinah. I mean - Laurel.”

“It’s okay,” Laurel reassured him. “I’m fine with either name. Listen… Jo, can you go get Tommy some coffee?”

“Sure,” Jo said, getting to her feet and leaving the room. Laurel waited for the door to click shut before she took a deep breath.

“How’d you know I needed coffee?” Tommy said.

“You’re restless. Hands shaking. Feet tapping. I can hear it.”

“You must have good ears, then.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Laurel muttered under her breath. “I also think you need to clear your head a bit. Hell, sober up.”

“I'm not drunk. I already told you."

“But you are an alcoholic.” Laurel hesitated now. “Tommy, have you ever been - really wasted? I mean… to the point that you remembered nothing, absolutely nothing, because you just completely blacked out?”

“More than once,” Tommy said, far more readily than Laurel expected.

“Yeah. So have I. And I remember… waking up and feeling so awful, but also filled with horror because I didn't know what I had done during those missing twelve hours. And then - then I felt relief, because I realised I was in best friend's apartment and she had driven me home with me passed out in her backseat the moment she found me in my favourite dive bar in the city. And I realised that even though I felt like shit, I also had someone who could account for my every action even if I couldn't.” Laurel waited, but perhaps it just hadn't clicked for Tommy yet. “I had an alibi. Right now, you don't."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying that you're going to be staying in jail overnight because right now things don't look too good for you, Tommy." Her client's sharp intake of breath was audible even to a normal person's ears, so she quickly added, "And I'm saying that if there is anything you're not telling us, anything at all, now is the time to tell me."

At that moment Joanna walked back in and shut the door behind her with a click, bearing a cardboard cup of coffee. The chair scraped on the floor as Jo sat back down and handed the coffee to him, and Laurel knew - or, rather, she hoped - that this time their first client would be more forthcoming with his new lawyers.

More than that, though, Laurel hoped that she could make good on the promise she had made Tommy Merlyn, one she was now doubting she could keep.

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raywritesthings · 6 years

Text

Wrong Road to the Right Place 4/?

Things had calmed down in her life compared to the past couple weeks. CNRI had a future, Tommy had given up his less than subtle attempts to get her to start seeing him again, and nothing odd was going on with Oliver.

And then Mrs. Queen was shot at.

“I wouldn’t worry,” her dad told her when she called. “She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Wasn’t even the target. It was a mob hit.”

Laurel gripped the phone tighter. “Mob?”

“Yeah, one of Bertinelli’s guys was trying to do a deal with them. It’s not gonna go anywhere, though. The Queens got more sense than that.”

“Mm-hm,” was all Laurel could really manage.

“You alright, honey?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

And it was fine. It had been the Italian mob, not the Russian mafia. And Oliver hadn’t even been involved, so it was probably just a coincidence. Right?

She was soon distracted by a different friend’s woes; Tommy’s father cut him off from his trust fund only a few days later. Knowing how much the CNRI benefit must have cost, Laurel couldn’t help feeling enormously guilty. Not enough to sleep with him, but enough to agree to dinner on her next free night.

Tommy recommended a new restaurant that was opening called the Cavalli, but if she’d known the wait was going to be so long she would have told him to take them somewhere else. As it was, they’d been standing there for about thirty minutes when a familiar voice hailed them.

“Hey!” Oliver appeared through the crowd leading a woman with long, dark hair. He was dating. Her mind went totally blank for a brief moment, and Laurel had no idea what to feel.

Then he introduced them all, and somehow it got worse.

Helena Bertinelli. Oliver was dating a Bertinelli. Laurel could scream.

If she didn’t know what she did, she probably would’ve overlooked it. It’s not as if Oliver would ordinarily have any reason to know whose families were or weren’t in the Italian mob. Not like her, cop’s daughter who was sat down and told who she couldn’t be friends with at school before she’d even reached the first grade. And the Bertinelli family was right at the top of that list.

Which, knowing what she did, Oliver had to be aware of.

“Nice to meet you,” Helena was saying to Tommy.

“My pleasure.”

It took her a bit of a pause to reply, “Likewise.”

“You look beautiful,” Oliver told her.

“Thank you,” she said with surprise in her voice, not expecting the compliment. If he was on a date, it wasn’t exactly the done thing.

So what was really going on?

When Helena offered to let her and Tommy join them at their table, Laurel didn’t even feel bad saying yes. After all, if it prevented some sort of mob deal from going down, wasn’t that her civic duty?

Not that there was a deal. She had no proof. Yet.

And the dinner got off to a fine enough start. Catching up, reminiscing. And that part she did feel a little badly about, because it left Helena somewhat on the outs.

She seemed to realize it herself, because she asked, “So, how long have you and Tommy been seeing each other?”

“Oh, we’re not,” Laurel said, and she didn’t miss Tommy’s grimace or Oliver’s mouth dropping open soundlessly. Had he thought she was getting back with Tommy? Was that why he was dating? “We’re just friends. Have been for a long time. And Oliver, too.”

Both of Helena’s eyebrows went up. “So you all have known each other—”

“We’ve all known each other forever,” Oliver confirmed. Laurel nodded.

Things ended on an awkward note when Laurel found out Tommy hadn’t talked to Oliver about working at the club and Helena found out she and Oliver had used to date. Tommy stormed off, and she followed him only to be yelled at for making him some kind of project as well as being accused of still having feelings for Oliver. She should have realized he was sore about her turning down a relationship, but wasn’t this exactly the reason she’d done so? The last thing she wanted was some bout of jealousy to destroy the friendship Oliver and Tommy had had all these years.

He came back and apologized the next night, which she accepted easily enough since it hadn’t hurt her feelings too badly. Tommy was going through a pretty serious life change; some bumps and bruises were only to be expected. At least he was trying to do better.

“In fairness, I think we all weren’t at our best last night.” She still had no idea why Oliver had alluded to them sleeping together up at the Aspen ski lodge. If he and Helena were serious that was about the worst move to make, and if they weren’t then it didn’t look very good for whatever cover they were trying to pull off.

“Yeah, you seemed kind of tense at dinner,” Tommy remarked. When she didn’t immediately answer, he added, “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t talk to Oliver about working at the club. I guess I just thought it’d be weird, me working for him.”

Laurel waved a hand dismissively. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“Helena,” she answered.

“What, you didn’t like her? Or do you not like that Oliver is dating her?”

She wasn’t about to take that bait. Laurel had been the one to say she and Oliver could never be more than friends. It’d be crazy to be jealous if he’d decided to move on. He should be able to move on...just, maybe with someone else. And at a time when he wasn’t possibly engaged in mob activity. Was that so unreasonable to ask?

“You know what the Bertinelli family is famous for, Tommy? Being at the head of the Italian mob.”

He sat up properly at that. “Wait, really?”

Laurel nodded. “That’s why that motorcyclist shot at Mrs. Queen the other day. The man she was talking to was trying to broker a deal for Helena’s father.”

“Then what would Oliver be doing with her?”

“I have no idea.”

Tommy frowned, clearly not liking anything about this. “Maybe Helena’s different. Maybe she doesn’t have any part in the mob stuff.”

Laurel considered it. She really didn’t want to automatically assume the worst about a woman she hardly knew. But it was such a bizarre coincidence.

“Was I really that tense?”

Tommy chuckled. “I think it’s safe to say it was pretty awkward all around.”

“I should apologize. Or maybe that’d make it worse,” she amended when Tommy pulled a face. “I could invite them over? And maybe some other guests. Throw a house party.”

That got a full-blown laugh out of Tommy. “You’ve never thrown a party!”

“Well, maybe I want to,” she insisted stubbornly. “Or you could organize it, and I’ll pay you an hourly wage. Start you on a freelance career if you don’t want to work for somebody.”

Tommy held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, I get it. I’ll talk to Ollie about the club tomorrow.”

She smiled at him sweetly. “Thank you.”

“Are you gonna talk to him?”

Laurel sighed. “You don’t seem to think I should. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll wait and see how things go with Helena.”

It turned out she didn’t have to wait long.

—-

Joanna came back from a lunch late in the week with her brother in good spirits, but as she approached her and Laurel’s desks her smile slowly started to fade.

“I see,” Laurel was saying to someone on the phone. “Is there any chance you have their names or contact information?”

On her computer screen was a map of the North China Sea, the one the news had posted with that island they’d found Oliver on highlighted.

“No, it’s not for an interview. I just wanted to know if they had any information on comings and goings in the region. Groups, organizations. Uh-huh.” Her friend jotted something down on a notepad. “Yes, you can call me back at this number.”

“Laurel, what are you doing?”

Her friend jumped and spun around in her chair. “Nothing.”

Joanna nodded to the screen still displaying the article. “Yeah, that looks like nothing, alright.”

Laurel’s shoulders slumped. “Okay, I was trying to get in contact with the fishermen who found Oliver.”

“Why?”

Laurel didn’t answer.

“I really don’t think you should try to force this,” Joanna warned her.

“I’m not trying to force anything, I’m just trying to piece together what happened.”

“Well, I doubt they know what all happened in the last five years.”

“No, but they might know who does.”

“Yeah, we all know who does. Oliver.” Joanna shook her head. “But he’ll talk when he wants to.”

“That’s the trouble, Jo,” Laurel said. “I don’t think he ever wants to. And I’m worried what will happen if he doesn’t.”

“Is this because of what happened with Mrs. Queen the other day?”

“Partly,” Laurel admitted.

“Well, word on the street is that shooter’s with the Hood now.” She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Maybe what happened with Mrs. Queen was an accident. But I really don’t think every single problem in this city can be tied back to Oliver. Even if your dad wishes it could.”

Laurel allowed a smirk at that. “I guess I do sound like him, huh?”

“Just a little.” Joanna perched on the corner of her friend’s desk. “You’ve gotta learn to let these things go or people are gonna start calling you crazy, too.”

“Look, I would love not to assume the worst. To just let Oliver go on dating Helena—”

“He’s dating?”

“Yes,” said Laurel.

Well, that didn’t match up at all. Then again, Oliver didn’t seem to know what he wanted from Laurel any more than Laurel knew what she wanted from him. It was enough to drive the rest of them all mad from watching it.

“Okay,” Joanna said slowly. “Maybe some space is the best thing for both of you right now.”

“Tommy said the same thing.”

That didn’t surprise her.

“Well, give the research a break, too. If you really think there’s something more to all this going on, it’s more your dad’s kind of work, anyway. Let him handle it.”

“And have him haul Ollie down to the station on trumped up charges again?” Laurel shook her head. “No. This has to stay between you and me. Promise me, Joanna.”

She held up both hands. “Alright. But please consider letting this whole thing go.”

“Okay.”

That tone was not at all convincing. Joanna sighed and looked down. As she stood back up to head over to her desk, her eyes caught the word Laurel had written and underlined on her notepad: Triad.

She wasn’t sure what her friend was trying to dig at. The Triad had attacked Laurel last month, not any of the Queens. Oliver might have been there, but that was totally a coincidence.

The next morning she woke up to the news that a mob war had nearly erupted overnight between the Triad and an Italian crime family and that Helena Bertinelli was confirmed to have fled the city, her identity as the Huntress made public.

Maybe Laurel wasn’t so crazy after all.

—-

Diggle and Helena had both been right in their own ways, and Oliver should’ve known better. As it was, he could only be thankful the Huntress had elected to leave Starling City behind, even if he had given her the tools and training to make her far more dangerous than she’d ever been before they met.

And there was nothing he could do to block out her words.

I saw the way you looked at her. That kind of love doesn’t die! You still love her.

He’d told himself any sort of personal connection with someone would have to wait until after he’d completed his father’s mission. As a result, he’d had to push people — particularly Laurel — away. Helena had seemed like a way to feel less alone, and maybe that hadn’t been fair to her.

But what did it mean that Laurel was alone right now?

She’d told him nothing could happen between them, and Thea had seemed convinced the CNRI benefit Tommy had thrown had been his way of making his intentions clear towards Laurel. So then why weren’t they together? Laurel had said she didn’t need him to forgive her for sleeping with Tommy while he was away, and there was nothing to forgive, but maybe she did need closure. Proof that he was fine with never being with her again.

Was that something he was willing to give?

He wanted Laurel to be happy above all else. Whether that was with him or not. And right now he couldn’t be with her. All that would do was cause her more worry and doubt the more he had to lie. So maybe he did owe it to her to let her go. Even if it meant lying about how he felt.

He was chasing those thoughts around and around his mind as he drove home from checking on the club that evening. John had put his foot down on him going out as the Hood, so now he had nothing to do with his usually occupied hours.

Though it looked as though they were entertaining somebody by the looks of it, as he noticed a car pulled off slightly to the side when he came up the drive.

“Hello?” He called as he entered through the front door.

“Up here, Ollie!” Thea yelled back from her room. That was puzzling; Thea hadn’t seemed all that excited for him to meet her friends since he’d been back.

Nevertheless he climbed the stairs as directed and soon discovered why his sister was being so open: it was his friend in her bedroom.

“Hey.”

Laurel looked up with a little half-smile. “Hey.”

“What’s going on?”

“I’m getting Laurel’s opinion on what to wear to your club opening,” said Thea from inside her closet.

“Who said you’re invited to the opening of a night club?”

His sister emerged, a superior smirk on her face she’d learned from their mom. “Tommy did.”

“Well, the ink hasn’t dried on his employment papers, so I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Come on, Ollie,” Laurel said as Thea scowled at him. “She just wants to be there to support you. Your mom and Mr. Steele will be there, too.”

He relented. Somewhat. “What kind of outfits has she been showing you?”

“You’ll have to wait and see,” she said with a grin, which was likely the only thing that saved him from Thea’s rage. Laurel stood and added, “But that wasn’t the only reason I stopped by. Do you mind if we talk?”

“Of course not.” Oliver led her out into the hall and down a few doors, slowing as they approached his own bedroom. Laurel did as well, having fallen into step right beside him.

“I wanted to apologize for the other night. I shouldn’t have invited Tommy and I along on your date.”

“Helena invited you. And as it turns out, it really wasn’t meant to be anyway,” he remarked with a healthy dose of chagrin Diggle would have been proud of.

“Yeah, I guess not.” Laurel glanced up at him. “She didn’t mention anything about all that to you, did she?”

Oliver hid a wince. He knew it did not look good for him to be associated with the Huntress so soon after being suspected of being a vigilante himself. “You’d probably have better luck asking that Hood guy.”

“Right.” She leaned her weight against the wall and added in an offhand tone, “My dad said we got pretty lucky the Hood drove her out of town before the, ah, Bratva could get involved.”

That was something Oliver hadn’t even considered, but he certainly agreed with Lance. He also couldn’t remember if the Bratva were something he knew about before the island, but it was best to play it safe. “Bratva. Isn’t that a kind of doll?”

Laurel’s eyes narrowed. “It’s the Russian mafia.”

“Oh, yeah. That would make more sense.” He nodded a couple times for added effect. But it was best they didn’t dwell on the Bratva or the Hood for too long. “Hey, I actually wanted to ask you — what’s going on with you and Tommy? Or not going on?”

“Nothing.” She huffed at his disbelieving look. “Really. I mean, he asked me out on a date instead of for sex, and I turned him down. But we’re still friends.”

“Was there a reason you did?”

“Is there a reason I should tell you?”

Oliver shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Laurel, I’m not trying to — I want to be a friend to you, and that includes being there if you need to talk. Like you said at the CNRI benefit.”

“I said I wanted to be there if you wanted to talk.”

“Yeah, well that’s the thing about friendships. Sort of supposed to go two ways.” Oliver allowed himself the slightest smirk as she pouted. It was unreasonably cute. “So is something bothering you? Anything I can help with?”

A short laugh escaped her.

“What?”

“No, it’s — I don’t think it’s going to be that simple.”

“Well, why not?”

“Oliver, I’m not looking for a relationship. Haven’t been, not since...all that.”

His eyes fell to the carpet. He’d been right. “Laurel, I am sorry. And I never wanted to make you think a relationship wasn’t something you could have.”

“But it isn’t,” she stated so matter-of-fact it nearly made him reel back a step. “That’s not just romantic relationships, either. I think my family alone makes a great case for why me and long-term connection with another person doesn’t work out.”

He wanted to say something, knew he should say something, but his words failed him. How could Laurel think that about herself? None of what had happened the last five years was her fault.

Laurel shrugged. “Now I’ve made things awkward with Tommy, and then there’s you and me.”

“I thought you didn’t want there to be a you and me,” he said, just loud enough that it might be heard.

“There can’t be, because we’re not—” She cut herself off, looking away from him sharply.

In spite of himself, Oliver felt something like hope. “Not what, Laurel?”

She drew in and let out a breath. “There’s a lot that I’ve been trying to work through, to figure out, these last few months. And I think you have been, too. But there’s a lot we’re not saying to each other.”

His head bowed as reality caught up with him. The Hood. He could never really speak freely with Laurel as long as he was the Hood. And he had to be.

“I still — I want to be there for you. Even as a friend.” A confession of some kind was trying to claw its way up his throat urged on by some voice that sounded suspiciously like Diggle, why not just tell her? — but he tamped it down.

“I do, too,” she agreed softly. “I just don’t know how much it can help.”

“Laurel.” He caught her hand as she pushed off the wall. “You being there for me since I’ve been back, it means more than you could know.”

She gave his hand a squeeze before letting it slip out of hers, their fingers tangling briefly before their arms both fell back to their sides.

“Then I guess...I’ll see you around, Ollie.”

Laurel turned and walked down the hall to the stairs, and there was nothing he could do.

That was a lie; he could call her back, tell her everything about why he’d been so strange and secretive since his return, how it was all to keep her and his family safe — but that was it, wasn’t it? He loved Laurel so much that he wanted her by his side through it all, but he loved her too much to put her in danger.

As long as his mission lasted, he had no choice but to let her walk away.

#lauriver #laurel x oliver #laurel lance #oliver queen #arrow #tommy merlyn #joanna de la vega #thea queen #black canary #green arrow #my writing

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