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About me: Who I'd like to meet: Home message comment Albums RPG Stream Credit “A lie isn't wrong if it's for the good of someone that you love.” Bio "There's a difference, Barry, between having powers and having precision." Oliver Jonas Queen was born to Robert and Moira Queen on May 16th, 1985 at Star City General. The heir of the multi-billion dollar company, Queen Consolidated, Oliver grew up with a wealthy lifestyle. At just the age of 7, he met and befriended both Tommy Merlyn and Laurel Lance. Both of these individuals would become Oliver's lifelong friends. As they grew up together, they grew closer to one another. Laurel pursued a law degree while Tommy and Oliver continued to enjoy the fortunes generously given to them by their hardworking parents. Not long after they reached their early twenties, Oliver and Laurel had become an item, until Oliver decided to take her sister, Sara, on a trip with his father aboard the Queen's Gambit. When the yacht went down in the South China Sea, Sara was lost in the wreck. Floating in a life raft, Oliver's father, Robert took his own life to preserve the little resources remaining. Several days at sea later, Oliver washed up on the shore of Lian Yu. Purgatory... Oliver Queen led everyone to believe he spent the past five years on that island. When he finally returned home, he was a changed man. The things needed to survive were drilled into his brain. It wasn't long after his return to Star City that he began to right his father's wrongs. With a list of names in a book, he took on the mantle as Star City's vigilante. The corrupt. The dangerous. All fell victim to the vengeance of the Green Arrow. It wasn't long before word spread about the vigilante's skillset. About six months after Oliver's return to Star City, he rekindled his previous passions with Sara Lance. Together, they assembled a team to strike back at the League of Assassins. The very foundation of their fortress crumbled around them as the Green Arrow and the White Canary unleashed their wrath with the help of their closest allies. Basic "I don't have to prove anything." NAME: Oliver Jonas Queen NICKNAMES: Handsome, Grumpy, Bow Boy ALIASES: The Green Arrow, The Vigilante DATE OF BIRTH: May 16th, 1985 PLACE OF BIRTH: Starling General CURRENTRESIDENCE: Star City ETHNICITY: Caucasian HAIR COLOR: Brunette EYE COLOR: Green HEIGHT: 6'0 WEIGHT: 181 lbs LIKES: A particular blonde, nightly rooftop strolls DISLIKES: Dishonesty, Assholes ADDICTIONS: Sara STRENGTHS: Leadership, Honor, Integrity WEAKNESSES: His family and friends BIRTHMARKS:N/A SCARS: Too many to list Friends Don't stop until you're proud Write them here. It can be anything you want. Write them here. It can be anything you want. Write them here. It can be anything you want. Write them here. It can be anything you want. Write them here. It can be anything you want. Write them here. 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Owes 00|00|00 To Who Here 00|00|00 To Who Here 00|00|00 To Who Here 00|00|00 To Who Here

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But, either way - you deserve to have a good Christmas, a good New Years. You deserve to feel comfort, to feel peace and love - even if its just a little because that's all you can muster. I wish you nothing but the best. Yes, this is a genertic greeting but, I /choose/ who I send it to. ♥ Much love, much light, and Happy Christmas sweet soul. And, I hope as this year comes into closing, the new one will have greatness in some form for you. Never let anyone dim your sparkle. You're here for a reason, we all are.  ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ Xoxo, Arasil.   Fighting Dove [Hiatus] Aug 27th 2021 - 2:20 PM Send Comment | Send Message | Block User Star City's Green Arrow, it's an honor. Thank you for the request. So sorry for not getting back to you sooner; been under the weather. I would love to chit-chat of a storyline. Familiar with Titans? If not, we can do our own thing to our RP.  - Dove 𝘿𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙮 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 ᴴᵉˡˡ Aug 1st 2021 - 12:31 AM Send Comment | Send Message | Block User     LOS ANGELES   The silence was deafening to the celestial as he contemplated the fallen hero's action. Undergo the Hellscape's malicious winds, Lucifer turned his focus away from the man as he stood full height. Thoughts flooded his mind's eye on what would the emerald archer do? Surrender to his terms, or would he battle it out to his very last breath? Tempting odds, very enticing, indeed. Upon pulling along the lapel of his designer suit. A small smile captured his features; that is when he heard it: 'I forgive myself. My past transgressions...' Soft words fled from parted lips of the worn archer. Lucifer trailed his darkening gaze back upon the young man and couldn't help but feel titillated from the desperate plea. 'Set me free, Lucifer... That I may return home and carry out the will of us both.' "Lovely," the epitome of evil expelled in delight with a light clap as he ignored the sudden dislodge of saintlike wings that shrouded the King in copious amounts of snow. He shifted his shoulders before he took in his surroundings. The Hellscape paused in action as if things were slowed, and the only thing that was moving at average speed were the two of them; time dilation. Boldly, the celestial extended a hand as if to a lover. His hardened exterior was now calmed and gentle. "Come now," soon he licked his lips as the world around him started to shift and crumble around him. "Take my hand." Once, he felt the warmth of torn flesh and gore within his grasp; Lucifer pulled the other within his embrace. Soon, Hell was no longer a predicament, but the trivial sirens of the thriving citizens of Los Angeles stuck in 5 o'clock traffic. A trip to the topside with a soul fresh from Hell was an exciting thing. "Well, back to the world of the living, Oliver Queen."   Credit: 𝓑𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓪𝓭𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓪   ⚡️ 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 May 29th 2021 - 2:07 AM Send Comment | Send Message | Block User Hey man! Just wanted to let you know you inspire me every day. I'm really glad you made Oliver and friend requested me a few months back. Crazy that we've only known each other since March. I know last night (it's actually tonight but, figured you'd see this in the morning or whenever) you were going through it and just figured I'd speed by and leave ya a little something. You've made my time on Barry so unbelievable better than I could've ever imagined. You are the Oliver to my Barry, man. I definitely credit me staying as Barry to you, Caitlin, Peter and Felicity. Without you four, I likely wouldn't have kept him so, I'm very glad you came back. While I may not know what's going on - and I don't need to - just know that we all support and have mad love for you, dude. When I log onto Barry, I feel like I'm at home and you're part of that. I couldn't imagine writing with any other emerald-clad archer. I enjoy our friendship and bromance so damned much. Time and time again you've always been in my corner and I appreciate that more than you know. Feels for days. You've always been so good to me and you've always had my back - I can only hope that I can be even a sliver of the friend you've been to me, to you. If you need anything, you know where to find me. I hope you have a good morning/day/night/whenever you read this. 𝘿𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙮 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 ᴴᵉˡˡ May 4th 2021 - 4:18 AM Send Comment | Send Message | Block User Desire shouldn't be contained, it's unnatural. A sultry purr alluded itself from the King of Hell. Lucifer observed the man break down with mild amusement. Since he was not the one tormenting the Hero. No, this was all of Oliver's doing and to see the sheer torment upon his face was simply divine. Therefore, when the archer neared him, reeking of pure testosterone, a fallen alpha. The celestial trailed the tip of his tongue upon his lower lip before he smiled, looking away to capture the copious amounts of demons disguised as the following male's past nightmares. It was only a matter of seconds before this Hellscape starts anew. "Forgive yourself, Oliver." The Lightbringer informed the Hero to face his personal Hell. Soon, his toned lowered to clue in the blonde of his meaning with a bit of a physical approach. Lucifer snatched the fallen brute by the nape of his neck and lifted him off the ground with ease. "If you don't," he had thrown the man towards the surrounding demons that smelt a power shift in the Hellscape. His Hellions could sense that Oliver was at his end and wanted to devour the man whole. Ever since the celestial walked in. Lucifer could tell that his shining Hero was losing his will to fight. "...you will be devoured by the fires of Hell." Once again, Lucifer kneeled beside his gift from John Constantine and roughly grasped his bloody and soiled hands to form a prayer. "...forgive the mistakes, the guilt, and the sin, Oliver Queen." Lucifer narrowed his eyes as he squeezed the man's hands within his grasp tighter together. While the skies darkened around them and the breeze suddenly smelled of salt. It was the origins of the emerald archer—the death of his father all over again. "Pray to me," Lucifer mentioned while his vibrant hues danced upon the man in his embrace, "...and you will be back on Earth...under one condition. You will work for me. Deal?" discord: —𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙨;#0069 / Literate & Sporadic Writer / Loves random starters ρяι∂є αѕтяαу May 3rd 2021 - 7:16 PM Send Comment | Send Message | Block User If eyewitness reports put six shooters on this scene, would this be the sixth? Or were there originally seven?   Emerald met Amethyst as his gaze fell upon the girl once more as he took hold of the gore before him betwixt fingers. Her face, stoic still, as she showed no signs of distress at the scene. This, however, was not out of form for her. It wasn’t as though nothing shocked here… merely, she could not allow herself to succumb to it.   “He does not have a weapon at his side. So two assumptions would be that either his comrades removed the sidearm to stop authorities from being able to trace registration or that he was not a shooter but perhaps had another role to play and therefore accounts only saw six with weapons. I am leaning far more toward the prior theory and that someone was mistaken about the number.”   Whether it was a question to her or not, she had an opinion, and far be it for he not to voice it. Keeping her opinion to herself was not something she did well. While Rachel wasn’t exactly a crime scene investigator herself, her ability to capture emotions in time—or in general—and being a fresh set of eyes, was always helpful and to use such things for good was a skill she was coming to terms with, thanks to people like Oliver Queen who had taken her beneath his wing. Something Rachel still was unsure of in regard to the ever looming and confusing question of ‘why’. She had learned many things about Oliver though, in her time around him. Things that were very matter of fact, when it came to him. He went after someone hew knew was guilty. He latched on and didn’t let go of this. Justice needed to be served and he would make sure that every part of him took place in making sure it was.. and, that murder was not the way. His next statement, changed the foundation of what she thought to be true. Humans… such confusing beings.   Captain Lance is right. We can't let them walk away from this... . This...this doesn't warrant anything but an arrow to the chest. These monsters don't deserve any sort of a trial or chance. Every breath that is expelled from their lips... It was stolen from these people.   Her head canted to the side, causing strands of violet hair to cast over her vision as she read the anger in him. She found it curious then; her intelligent mind still filling with new questions every day, why was this cause for murder when others who had done such things were not subjected to it and instead locked away in the system for the remainder of their lives? Should they not all receive such ends? Was this the wrong way of thinking, though? As he came to her, placing a hand on her shoulder and guiding her in the direction away from the scene, she couldn’t help but look up at him from beneath her hood. Her small stature and 5’5 frame.. 5’6 in the boots, searching for answers.   “Your mind is troubled. Far more then is usual for you in a situation. I don’t understand.. what makes this strike vengeance instead of justice? Is it the amount of those succumbed to death and not the action itself?”   The interruption had come, however, as Overwatch spoke forth in the earpiece of the green shadowed being and she used her telepathy to hear the voice of the blonde within his head. Certain words or names sticking out more then others. Bratva. Anatoly. Port. Natalia. An image of the red headed woman flashed in his mind as well as a flutter of his heart. A gaze returned to her as she listened.   Rachel, Anatoly is an old friend of mine. If he had anything to do with this...   The pain in Oliver welled, and it did so far separate then that of the anger he had for the people now being moved and zipped into temporary fabric caskets.   We need to get to the bottom of this.   The lithe girl lifted a hand, placing the fingers peeking out beneath fingerless gloves, against his arm. Rachel wasn’t much of a connector with people. Touching others willingly usually required a reason if it came for her, despite her acceptance of his touch on her shoulder or the way others grace her with their connection. Still, to have her reach to him, touch his arm in a means of comfort, was filled with a platonic intimacy that had grown between the two outside of their professional escapades. Her voice, reassuring, gentle, and trying to ease at least a small piece of his mind that she could not otherwise do without the use of her abilities and his, by her standards, permission to engage in such mental connection. So words, this time, would have to do. “We will, Oliver.. We will.”     𝘿𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙮 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 ᴴᵉˡˡ Apr 29th 2021 - 9:34 PM Send Comment | Send Message | Block User I'M A DEVIL OF MY WORD. It was not long before he witnessed the wretched state of Oliver Queen. Cuts and bruises adorned the archer's physique, and as he noticed the thickets of crimson seep from various wounds, it had aroused the disciplinarian within him. Since humans are driven down to Hell by their own guilt, they force themselves to relive their sins repeatedly. It is no wonder that the young warrior was on edge. The incessant guilt flowed from him and fueled this Hellscape greatly. Therefore, when the King of Hell received the verbal jab, 'Have you come to take your best shot? Some of your friends back there seem to be having a bad day.' Lucifer laughed before he quieted down the fits of mirth with a sigh. "Cute. However..." Soon, he extinguished the distance between them that the young hero could settle his curious emeralds upon darkened eyes that soon diverged into a distinguished hue of vermilion. While his handsome features chipped away in the smothering breeze of Lian Yu, emulating ash, to disclose his challenger in on a bit of a secret. "...If I was you, I would choose my words a bit more tactfully, hm..." He spoke in a nefarious and yet sweet tone, as only half of his Devil face was exposed to the mortal. Eventually, he reached up to slick back his ravenous tresses and quite comedically, the charred and redden flesh of the celestial disappeared in the moment of securing a bit of vanity. Once he was back to the English gentleman he prides himself to be, "Now this would be the part where I would introduce myself, Lucifer Morningstar," He flashed a small smile before he continued, "and to inform you that you are in Hell..." A pause as he extended his arms to project said place as he looked around the Hellscape with a chuckle. "However, I'll cut to the chase, Oliver Queen. What do you truly desire?" Indeed, the King of Hell wondered if the other wanted to stay in Hell to fight for all eternity. ⛧⛧⛧ ρяι∂є αѕтяαу Apr 29th 2021 - 7:52 PM Send Comment | Send Message | Block User Something’s come up.. We need your help.   The evening had grown later; the moon rising high enough for her to see from the balcony she stood upon in the city she had taken a current residence up in. When the phone, sitting upon the concrete banister, buzzed she removed a hand from the cooling cup of tea she was nursing and lifted it to her ear. She knew the number. Rachel housed very few digits within the communication device but each one of them were caused to answer when the phone rang. She wasn’t a small-talk sort of person so when it did, it was hardly to chat about the weather or whatever ‘game’ it was that people were so sore over the score of. This number in particular, rarely rang more than twice. The breeze blew through strands of currently shoulder length, straight royal hair as she tucked the phone against her ear. The feminine voice on the other line was one that she had heard before, both in person and otherwise. “I’ll be there..” Felicity, known more professionally as Overwatch, was usually the one who reached out to those who were needed. The vigilante hero behind her actions was not normally the one to reach out on his own—this was something she could respect; Rachel herself was not often one to put forth any effort of unnecessary communication. With her abilities, with her… restrictions, it was simply easier. No further communication was needed as both lines went dead and she lowered the phone again, lifting her cup to take one long drink before she brought everything inside. She didn’t need to know a specific location, though if Overwatch offered it, she wouldn’t brush them off. One only needed to reach out to the mind of the Green Arrow to know his location. Something that was simple enough for her not only because of her skill, but because of who he was to her. There was a brief moment of setting her cup in the sink and dawning the signature eggplant-colored mantle before she slipped on her boots and prepared to leave. Her outfit beneath, dawned differently then it had been in the past with the Titans, hidden beneath the flaps of her cloak. A brief close of her eyes, reaching out into the void for where she had to be, where she was needed. The location faded into her mind and her eyes opened a shade of black as the shadows in the corner of her room began to shift. Walking forward toward the wall, her body vanished, and the shadows halted on that side as the room grew silent in its loneliness. Traveling through shadows, depending on the distance between locations was a deafeningly quiet act. To be absorbed into a pure darkness, void of any sound or feeling, only to emerge on the other side back within the realm of the living. There was this space though… a space between where you lingered in shadow. Not yet back a part of the real world and no longer within the hollows of travel, where one could observe and linger. For the moment, this was where she stayed as she took in the sight around her. Eyewitness reports stated that six men came in here, and just started to unleash hell… The only justice in this is the death of all involved. Her body emerged then. Establishing from the shadows as floated feet touched the ground. The moment she had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, the emotions of the world hit the empath as strong as they always did. The world becoming real and concrete around her once more and the weight of it resting on the shoulders of the young woman. A lithe, pale female, she was still fresh to the age of adulthood and yet her mind had far outweighed the maturity of her body. With the burden she wore, it had to. Emotions, ever lingering things. Even after death the residue of one’s last moments were accessible to those who could feel them, and in the wakes of a massacre, the energy was high. A brief glow of the chakra gem embedded upon her forehead, it helped her focus and bring her own emotional reaction down before the glow faded away. This, a crucial tool. The gem, one she often hid with illusion when she was about in the world, but which always appeared when on a mission. She took a brief moment to adjust before she spoke forth, "How does one live in a world with so much uncontrolled emotion? How do humans get through their lives each day, not knowing what could happen, or what they could feel at any given moment?" These were questions she found herself plagued with. In Azarath, things were far more controlled. It was a way of life. But here, every day, people were at the mercy of not only their own feelings but those of others that drove their actions and, at times… caused horrors like this. Her voice, ever soft and calm despite the scene at hand, reached out to the two in conversation as she walked forward, appearing behind the jade-dawned hero and the Captain of the SCPD, moving ever more forward to their side as her hands raised to grasp the material pooled against her shoulders, pulling the hood over her head and casting a shadow over her delicate features. While Rachel had continued to do her best in this strange, confusing world after taking her leave from the Titans, she had not held up a sort of goal to maintain the safety of city streets like others did. She had come across events that she had assisted in resolving, even doing so on her own if the occasion called for it, but her energies had mainly been directed at keeping a certain demon lord barred away from the realm, and the kin of her blood away from causing her and her efforts any trouble. She had dissolved herself, hence, into a world of solitude. Keeping to herself, perhaps hiding away, and all for the protection of this very place. A guardian, perhaps… and yet she was not only guarding it from interdimensional beings—she was guarding it from herself. That was, until she had met Oliver Queen. Nothing changed as far as her goals, but a once tactical partnership they had slipped into had grown into a far other sort of attachment that she had not expected. The Green Arrow’s influence over her, Oliver Queen’s patience and interest in who she was, it had grown emotionally. The solid male model in her life had become a sort of friend. No, more than that perhaps. Despite his own emotions that bordered on rage and a sense of justice, Rachel Roth had found a piece of a puzzle she had been looking for. A gateway to a sense of peace on this otherwise chaotic planet and he was one of those. He fit into the board she had manifested into her mind and when his piece was centered in its spot, she felt a bit of the world's weight lifted. The stoic girl cared for the man, looked up to him. And that was why when Overwatch called, it barely had a chance to ring. She had never truly revealed these sentiments, of course, but as she appeared by his side there and now, his gloved hand resting upon her shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze, there was an unspoken connection there that they both knew to be true. Raven’s head turned slightly toward the hand, her vision still downward, but it gave him an indication that she accepted the touch. She stayed where she was, ever quiet as the two of them spoke and she caught herself up on the scene. The pool of crimson ichor that gathered at the Green Arrows feet so did so to hers now as she let her eyes scan the area. Men, Women, Children… all of their blood looked the same as it mixed and lingered down like streams in the rain. Death did not affect Rachel. Not like she could feel it affecting the men next to her or the officers in the area. Death appeared in horrible ways, but it revealed itself nonetheless. It was the way that it appeared… the way that someone’s life was ended that was beyond infuriating. Still, she could not afford to have such emotional reactions in the moment. This was the effect. This was the aftermath. If her anger were to ever be released, it would not be in these moments and so were saved for the future. When the Captain excused himself to give the duo time to examine the terrain in their own way; this was when she stepped forward toward the scene. A few steps and then her feet lifted from the ground enough to land between a couple sets of bodies, her head turning here and there as violet eyes scanned over the now lifeless husks. Don't hold anything back on these monsters. They don't deserve anything short of your wrath. Nobody would miss these animals if you decided to start dropping some bodies. It was not often she heard him speak in such a way. Death was not an end result he had usually urged for and his words mimicked the emotions he put forth. He was enraged, and rightfully so. Still, the words were foreign to her from his tongue. She kneeled down, reaching out a hand to brush the tips of her fingers against the bloody, soiled ground, lifting her hand—covered in leathered fingerless gloves, to her visions height, rubbing her thumb over the now cold, thick fluid. “These words are unlike you.” She stated softly, slowly turning her head to look at him from beneath the hood. Sharp, unique eyes reaching out to him as a brow raised in the shadow beneath her shielding. “And Wrath isn’t my Sin.” The slightest smirk lifted at the corner of her mouth before she looked back down to the scene, standing now fully in her shorter stature. Rachel, known more simply by her demonic paternal bloodline as ‘Pride’, was the most powerful and only female offspring to her bloodline. Raven had been her given birth name in Azarath, however. Wrath had a form, of course. Jared.. a monster in his own right. But Rachel, a name taken when she came to Earth.. while her powers could be savage and merciless, were not based on Wrath itself. No, in that form, her blood boiled with the Pride of centuries that had come down to her and housed within the young woman’s ever beating heart. A Sin she refused to tap into whenever possible, or else her father’s influence would more greatly slip through. As Oliver pulled the evidence of a weapon she knew little about from the scarred and broken concrete, Rachel began a ritual of her own. Standing within the center now of the traumatic history of events, she let the air flex around her. Closing her eyes for a moment, she took in the everlasting vapors of the scene at hand. The emotions that stemmed from the bodies as if it were steam evaporating into the skies. She could feel it.. “Everyone was so scared..” She muttered. The men, the women, the children.. every final emotion passing through her body. Her body hovered a couple of inches from the ground as it slowly spun in a circle, outstretched fingers pulling in the metaphorical vapor into her. It was only a moment until she lowered herself to the ground and her violet hues opened. I appreciate your help on this one, Rachel. I can only imagine how busy you have become lately. Her eyes shifted to him when he used he spoke her earthly name and made mentioned of her busy existenace, and the stare alone would have him notice that unique signature of sarcasm she could often hold on her face. No doubt beneath the shadow of her hood there was a raised brow there and a look resembling the phrase, ‘You’re kidding right’ imprinted for a moment. She then pulled her gaze away and slowly stepped her way back closer to him, careful of the forms at her feet. “There is no call of yours that I have let go unanswered. I doubt there would be.” Her words were just as soft, if not impassive as usual, as she spoke rather casually despite what connection they had to each other. She saw his smile, and hoped her words reached him in the same way his lifted corners did to her. Showing her sentimentality was still not her strongest suit, especially with the surrounding settings taken into consideration. When she reached his side, she turned and faced the crowd again. Once we hear back from Overwatch, we will know where to begin... It was then, she offered a bit of information that would likely, at least for a while, go unnoticed by the authorities. A bit of information that was, perhaps, why Oliver Queen was able to use her assistance and might have found a further appreciation for his choice in requesting her. “One of these men was an attacker, not a victim.” Her hand raised, pointing directly forward to the end of the lot of corpses from beneath her cover before it lowered and vanished beneath the flowing fabric once more. “Everyone here… They were scared in their last moments. Fear, sadness, these are common emotions for the slaughtered and dying. His last emotion, however, was betrayal. He felt angry, and betrayed…” She turned her back on the scene, walking a few steps away before she turned back, leaning against a nearby sturdy object as her arms crossed. “That.. and his body is facing towards the direction of his entry wounds. He was not in an attempt to shield himself or escape. He did not see the moment coming.” Her eyes lingered on him again; awaiting the return of information from Overwatch… and his reaction to the informative news. 𝘿𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙮 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 ᴴᵉˡˡ Apr 12th 2021 - 1:33 AM Send Comment | Send Message | Block User I'M A DEVIL OF MY WORD. The darkest places in Hell are reserved for those who maintain their neutrality in times of moral crisis. The Italian poet Dante Alighieri spilt in regards to the labyrinth saturated in sin. The walls were fabricated in brimstone, while the halls are shrouded in darkness. A harmony of screams enticed those who roamed the endless maze—prisoners of a looping Hellscape. Louboutin's red bottom loafers' echoes upon the dilapidated stonework as the owner headed towards a heavily shackled door. In each step, flames sprouted from torches wedged above the doorways, allowing the King of Hell to spy upon the damned...   ⛧⛧⛧Earth-666⛧⛧⛧ "Two shots of whiskey, love." Constantine found himself settled in the hottest club in the city of Angels. The only establishment rumoured to be owned by a celestial, Lucifer Morningstar himself, Lux. Undergo the thriving atmosphere with its drunken and lust riddled patrons. The petty dabbler of the dark arts could understand the appeal. If he wasn't here on business, he could see himself shagged up with a pretty bird or a burly bloke in the loo in the back. "Constan-tane," The raven-haired celestial appeared beside the trickster with a bemused hum before his eyes pierced the blond with sheer indignation. "I thought our business was done with the end of the worlds and all that..." Lucifer leaned against the bar noting the barkeep passing on the two glasses towards Constantine. "Luci, listen...It's about the soul. I need a favour." "Make sure he pays for that..." Lucifer urged as he noticed the wizard's smile and uneasy shrug of the shoulders. Constantine engulfed one of the glasses, savouring the amber liquid. While the heavenly entity threw up a force field. Inhabitants of the club walked around them at a sluggish pace, time dilation. Once, the laughing magician witnessed the change; he turned to face the Devil head-on, slowly pulling out a translucent vile. It held a vibrant glow where a vapour continuously rattled against the vessel. "It's Oliver Queen's soul." John started, looking into Lucifer's eyes before he placed the container on the bar. He pushed on as he heard an agitated sigh. "He can't die...the world needs him, Luci. He's the key to it all." He finished, taking the last glass of the whiskey before Lucifer stopped him with the following sentence. "I told you this before...all of this is very biblical John and as I can walk through multiverses. It doesn't affect me. But to see you so...worried. You owe me one." Lucifer slipped the vessel in his suit pocket. He did not hear the sob story of the world ending nor the legend behind Oliver Queen. There was something better. He had leverage on the trickster, and that was all he needed...   ⛧⛧⛧Hell⛧⛧⛧ It has been a year since that meeting, and as Lucifer stood before the gateway to purgatory or, in the case of Oliver Queen, Lian Yu. Lucifer cleared his throat as he knocked on the ironclad door. A gust of wind traverse through the labyrinth undergo each knock while the echoes of shackles falter to the ground, exposing the bright seascape in North China. Immediately, the well-dressed celestial was greeted with a group of assassins dressed in camouflage to mimic their surroundings. However, as one of the butchers neared him. Lucifer licked his lips as he observed the disguised villain bowed before him, whispering: 'My King, to what do we owe this honour?' The inquiry lingered as Lucifer debated the answer for his demon. "Playtime is over. Where is Oliver Queen?" Nonchantlanly, he looked at his watch before he noted the state of his Hellions. Cuts and bruises. It made the King of Hell smile before he uttered, "Nevermind. Allow me to follow the carnage..." He quipped, pushing forth between the small crowd of demons that stood by his side before each of the Hellish creatures vanished the closer he got to his target. "Oliver? Oliver Queen, come on out, my dear boy...I don't have all bloody day!"   ⛧⛧⛧ Add Comment