battlingbowman

[battlingbowman]

The rest of the interview was mostly a performance. Oliver knew as soon as she spoke and asked her questions that she was exactly what he wanted for this role. But he wanted to give her the respect to do this correctly and not just rush to offer her the job.

As the question concluded, Oliver stood up from his desk and re-buttoned his jacket. "Well I think that's everything Dr. Swann, would you like to see where you'll be working?"

With the first of her concerns laid to rest, at last, Madeleine sat down. Her movements were sure, precise, she exerted nothing more than exactly what was needed to finish the motion, and sat still and tall and, for the moment, alert.

It was only well-learned eyes that could see the exhaustion she'd tucked neatly to the corners of her lips, the slightest discomfort in her posture.

"Then I suppose we can begin the interview; my own preliminary conditions are met, now let's discuss yours."

[battlingbowman]

@arrowsforbrains continued from here

Well, this was a situation he didn't imagine himself in at this stage in his career. This probably echoed to similar occasions in his past, when he was still Speedy and followed every single footstep of his mentor, as they probably found themselves cuffed together more than a handful of times. If they weren't cuffed, they were probably tied, or chained, or... Yeah, you get the point. It almost felt nostalgic. Their captors were clearly new to this, weren't they? Leave the two archers with the dexterous hands alone in a room, restrained only by handcuffs and a shoddy length of rope tying each of their feet. Someone got lazy with their planning. "I almost feel bad for them, y'know," Roy commented off handedly as he looked around, a chuckle escaping his lips as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, "I'm tempted to just stick a little while longer in these and see if we get to hear a corny evil monologue or speech. I bet this is about money. Or drugs. Or both?" he wiggled a little in place, pulling on the cuffs so he could reach for one of his belt's pouches. "What are you betting on? Loser buys dinner."

Oliver was grumpy, and he was sure Roy could tell even if he couldn't see the scowl. It was clear in the way he huffed, and the tone of his replies. He was playing over in his mind how in the hell they wound up like this. Oliver wasn't worried too much about the leaving, he was just focused on the sloppy work that got them here.

"It looks like these knots were tied by preschoolers." He was already twisting and flexing his feet trying to get the rope loose enough to slip out of it.

"I'm going to say drugs. Too many crates in that main room. And if I'm wrong, we are not getting pizza again."

[battlingbowman]

The pause worried Oliver a touch, and he prepared himself to be shot down. It would be justified, since he was running on the idea of too little too late with his offer of help.

He had his own pause before his reply, for reasons he didn't want to fall into his own head about right now. There was an amount of focus he still had to have on the streets below.

"That sounds like a great idea. You just tell me where and when."

He knows Oliver is trying. It is painfully obvious that he's being offered an olive branch. Still, his instinct is to swat it away instead of accept it. After all, where was this concern and care when he really needed it? He's hurt and bitter. Still, his therapist is always telling him about the power of second chances...

Oliver's reply catches him off guard. Shit, he really is trying. His voice is low and earnest. Not to mention a seemingly genuine offer of help... There's an audible pause as he considers Oliver's offer. "Most of the packing is done but I was going to take Lian to the park one last time before the move. You could come. Lian would be happy to see you."

[battlingbowman]

"I'm a fair man. So I'm going to let you start running. When you're a dozen yards away, I'll try to bring you down. You could get lucky. I might miss."

Independent Canon-Divergent Oliver Queen/Green Arrow. Comic & head canon fueled. OC/Multimuse and crossover friendly. 18+ to interact. {Treasured by Declan. Old and experienced in the ways of tumblr roleplay }

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[battlingbowman]

Send 🔗 for our muses to be handcuffed together!

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[battlingbowman]

Oliver noticed that light, even if for the smallest moment. It brought a smile to his face, and he nodded once before leaning forward in his chair.

"I wouldn't hire you if you did it any other way." he leaned back again, trying to let himself look relaxed. Oliver wanted Dr. Swann to not think this was going to be a fight. He had no plans to surrender, but he wanted both of them to drop their weapons.

"I'm prepared for there to be demands, suggestions and changes."

"And if you opt to hire me," she went on, "are you aware that I will not prioritize you, your HR department, or even my own position above the safety of my patients?"

And for a moment there was some shred of light behind her eyes--light born of the will to fight for someone else. She wasn't herself, now; for a moment, here, she was Spartan, line of defense and she could live while she fought.

[battlingbowman]

@comicwr1te

No matter how hard he tried, he kept dropping the ball with establishing anything healthy with Roy. There always seemed to be a piece missing, something getting in the way. He was glad to hear that the younger man had something good in his life, and tried not to hurt at the idea that it wasn't him.

"It doesn't sound stupid at all." and there was much more levity in his words now. He was happy for Roy, and the partner situation, and he wanted to make sure it was clear and understood. Oliver glanced over to Roy now, letting a moment of silence fall between them.

"Do you need help? With any of the moving."

Call him petty, call him cruel but he wanted the words to sting. Although Oliver hasn't meant to hurt him, he has. The two of them get along like oil and water -- they don't mix and the struggle to coexist. Although he notices that Oliver isn't meeting his gaze, he doesn't comment on it. This conversation, although intiated by him, isn't the most comfortable one that he's had.

His tall, unforgiving walls crack a bit as he hears the strain in Oliver's voice. "It's going to sound stupid," now it's his turn to be vulnerable, voice soft and raw as he opens up to Oliver. "But I didn't realize how serious we were until recently. Lian is scared of the dentist and normally I'm able to calm her down by myself but for some reason this time I couldn't. I called him wanting back up... I thought he was going to be busy when I called him but instead he met us in the parking lot of the dentist within 10 minutes of us talking on the phone. He made Lian a priority. He makes us a priority. It's nice."

[battlingbowman]

Oliver's gaze never left Madeleine's and any smile that had lingered on his face slipped away. His expression was serious, the light of which looked far too at home on his face.

"Not at all. This is strictly to help. I'm not sure how long you've' been in Metropolis, but things here tend to get...strange. I've got talented people working at this paper, and I'd like to keep them. I'm not going to force anyone to use your services, but I feel it's important to have them available."

Madeleine did not sit--not immediately. She stood at the side of the offered chair, and she held Oliver's gaze with the cold unshakeable certainty of someone who meant everything they threatened; she would walk out if his answer was unsatisfactory.

"Tell me now and honestly: is this a position meant to spy on and undermine your staff?"

[battlingbowman]

Oliver's smile was bright and sincere, and his handshake firm with the woman as he lead her inside of his office. He started on his own observations as soon as she stood up. Watching just how sure and precise she moved, and when their gazes met he felt something go cold inside of him. He's seen that look before, that void. It's too familiar, it has stared back at him in the mirror far too many times.

Her statement caught him by surprise, a look he didn't have time to hide before sitting down at his desk. Motioning to the chairs in front of him, he nodded.

"Yeah of course, the floor is yours Dr. Swann."

In the early morning, Madeleine had pulled on her deep navy suit, all buttons and folding fabrics and pressed pants and neat handkerchief, her hair back and up and away from her face (she couldn't, now, stand for it to brush against her cheek like fingers ghosting along from somewhere she couldn't reach).

She was responsive, quick to stand at Oliver's arrival; here, she was precise. Her steps were sure and measured, self-strung marionette strings working with near-perfect derivation.

"Mr. Queen. Thank you for seeing me."

And it was good, it was almost--almost--perfect, the cadence of her voice, the movements of her body, the turn of her smile. And, in the blue of her eyes, there was void. Nothing and no-one inhabiting her; a shell of a woman whose body marched on because it did not know how to do anything else.

"I understand this is a newly-created position," she continued, following Oliver into the office. "And I can imagine it will involve its own growing pains. But I have a few questions before we even begin this interview and their answers are contingent for the remainder of this conversation to be worth my own time."

[battlingbowman]

The you probably won't notice hit Oliver hard. The unspoken implications in those four words harsher than anything else Roy could have said. For the moment the only reaction from what the younger man said could be read in the tense shift in Oliver's jaw, and the fact he hadn't taken his gaze off one particular section of the street where nothing was happening.

"I understand..." he started with a touch of strain to his tone. "You should do what's best for Lian, and yourself." A sideways glance put his attention on Roy now, and something a touch softer drifted into his words. "Is it serious? With the person I mean."

“Yeah, when is there not?” Roy retorts, words low and bitter as he uses a majority of his energy to stop himself from rolling his eyes at Oliver. He’s sitting beside Oliver on a random rooftop, one of his red arrows in his hands, playing with it like a fidget toy as he speaks with him. Despite his complicated and skewing negative feelings toward his adoptive father he has a few things he needs to get off his chest. “You probably won’t notice because we don’t talk much as it is but I’m moving to Gotham. There’s a charter school there that will help Lian thrive and…” the next bit Oliver doesn’t know this next part. “And I’m seeing someone who lives in Gotham. Moving to Gotham seemed like the next logical step. Batman knows about it. We’ve come to an agreement regarding my role in vigilanteism in Gotham so…”

[battlingbowman]

❛ you always push people away. i just thought you’d never do it to me. ❜ from roy

"It wasn't intentional, there are...things going on right now."

[battlingbowman]

protector / protectee starters

“no. you can’t go, it’s too dangerous.”

“it’s not dangerous. i’ll be fine.”

“i’m not going to let anything happen to you.” 

“you can’t keep me safe from everything.”

“just be careful.” 

“i’m always careful.”

“you’re going to get yourself hurt.”

“i won’t get hurt, i promise.”

“i won’t let them hurt you.”

“you can’t save me from this.”

“please try and stay out of trouble.”

“if anything happened to you…” 

“i’m not sure how to keep you safe.”

“i’m not going to let you out of my sight.”

“this is the only way to keep you safe.”

“you can’t keep an eye on me twenty four seven.”

“everywhere you go, i go.”

“it’s not your job to protect me.”

“it’s my job to protect you.”

“don’t worry, i’ve got you.”

“no one will hurt you as long as i’m breathing.”

“you don’t understand how dangerous this is.”

“please come back in one piece.”

[battlingbowman]

Oliver was surprised that he didn't get too much push back on the idea of having an on site therapist. God knows everyone that worked at the Planet saw enough lately to warrant this even being a thought. Too much death, too much trauma. The writers that he had now were good, and he wanted to keep them around. It wasn't going to be mandatory, just a suggestion, just an option. There was a concern that for awhile he was just going to pay the therapist to sit in the office and stare at the wall. This was going to be his last interview for the position, and he didn't have strong feelings about any of the former candidates. Dr. Swann did have the most impressive credentials out of everyone. Now it was just down to meeting her in person.

He got the message from the front desk that she had arrived, and Oliver had no intention of keeping her waiting long. Walking to the door of his office, he opened it and stepped out. Oliver wasn't overly dressed for the day, looking maybe a bit too business casual for the owner of a newspaper.

"Dr. Swann, please come in."

If There's Anything Left...

It was mechanical, the way Madeleine moved. Not slow or quick, but sure; perfunctory. Awake, quiet alarm, sit up. Leave bed, shower, get dressed. Each action started and completed with nothing more than the action to push itself forward, as though Madeleine had failed to pack among her things her self in her move to America.

Now, she pulled her hair back. Now, she left the apartment. Now, she waited for the bus and paid her fair and waited until at last the stop came where she and a half dozen others could make their way into the Daily Planet building, all elevators and marble floors and brass and wood and quiet grandeur.

The office at the top floor had a large waiting room with a single secretary settled at a sturdy, old desk. He was a young man with bright, friendly brown eyes and green-and-black braids, and Madeleine contorted her face into the perfect likeness of a grateful smile as he gestured her to sit on the almost-comfortable sofa to wait for her appointment.

The job posting had been for an on-site counselor to assist the Planet's staff when therapist offices were over-packed and wait lists could be months and months long. It wasn't particularly grand; the listed pay was less than she'd made working at the Clinic in Switzerland by a marked margin.

It was fine.

She could have rested. She could have retired. Her weary, wary heart would never let her settle so near to the railing violence that still beat within it.

And, in the still of the over-cleaned room, with the soft clack of computer keys behind her own slow breath, Madeleine waited.

@battlingbowman

[battlingbowman]

&. 𝐡𝐢𝐭 ‘𝐞𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

(  more  angsty  dialogue  prompts  to  devastate  your  writing  partners.  metaphorically.  feel  free  to  change  how  you  seem  fit.  )

❛ you’re a weapon, and weapons don’t weep. ❜

❛ you can’t save everyone. ❜

❛ it should have been you. ❜

❛ did i do good? ❜

❛ i’m sorry that i can’t save you. ❜

❛ wait for me, will you? ❜

❛ i can’t lose you again! ❜

❛ you were dead, i saw you die. ❜

❛ we won’t forget each other, right? ❜

❛ i’m real. i’m here. ❜

❛ you already know how this will end. ❜

❛ it’s always my fault, isn’t it? ❜

❛ i don’t want to go. ❜

❛ can you remember how you died? ❜

❛ i love you, but you’re not mine. ❜

❛ have you ever lost someone? ❜

❛ i didn’t ask to get made. ❜

❛ you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you. ❜

❛ i never meant to hurt you. ❜

❛ is it really you? ❜

❛ their blood is on your hands. ❜

❛ it would have been better to die. ❜

❛ i’m not ready to lose you yet. ❜

❛ i wish i met you sooner. ❜

❛ let’s just stay here. grow old. ❜

❛ you’re the first friend i ever had. ❜

❛ i told you not to fall in love with me. ❜

❛ you always push people away. i just thought you’d never do it to me. ❜

❛ everyone i’ve cared about has either died or left me. except for you. ❜

❛ i know i have a heart because i can feel it breaking. ❜

❛ they’re not coming back. ❜

❛ i’m sorry, have we met? ❜

❛ in my dreams, we’re still together. ❜

❛ you’re the one good thing left in this world. ❜

❛ i hate the way that i don’t hate you. ❜

❛ it’s okay. you can let go. ❜

❛ you mean nothing to me. ❜

❛ we’re on our own now. ❜

❛ you can’t kill me, i’m not alive. ❜

❛ it wasn’t supposed to end like this. ❜

❛ do you remember when we first met? ❜

❛ we’ll see each other again. ❜

❛ there’s nothing you could have done. ❜

❛ we did it. we won. ❜

❛ let’s not go back. not ever. ❜

❛ thanks for playing with me. ❜

❛ why does it feel like this is goodbye? ❜

[battlingbowman]

"I'm a fair man. So I'm going to let you start running. When you're a dozen yards away, I'll try to bring you down. You could get lucky. I might miss."

Independent Canon-Divergent Oliver Queen/Green Arrow. Comic & head canon fueled. OC/Multimuse and crossover friendly. 18+ to interact. {Treasured by Declan. Old and experienced in the ways of tumblr roleplay }

Rules | Verses | About

[battlingbowman]

REBLOG TO BE INCLUDED IN A DC ROLEPLAY MASTERLIST

THE LIST CAN BE FOUND [HERE]. PLEASE INCLUDE IN THE TAGS WHAT MUSE/S YOU WRITE. ROLEPLAY BLOGS ONLY.

[battlingbowman]

"I'm a fair man. So I'm going to let you start running. When you're a dozen yards away, I'll try to bring you down. You could get lucky. I might miss."

Independent Canon-Divergent Oliver Queen/Green Arrow. Comic & head canon fueled. OC/Multimuse and crossover friendly. 18+ to interact. {Treasured by Declan. Old and experienced in the ways of tumblr roleplay }

Rules | Verses | About