“I’m not afraid of the police. But you? I might make an... exception. Do you have to go to a specialist store to fit into those pants? That can’t be cheap.”
The world was a funny place sometimes. One minute you’re chasing after serial killer who was stealing your motif and the next you are stumbling downhill through a thicket of tropical brush. However for The Emerald Archer, Green Arrow, this wasn’t a joke he had been clued in on. Apparently the punchline was
him— a punchline he wasn’t quite the fan of.
It didn’t take a genius intellect to realize that he had been transported outside of Star City, but as far as the four w’s went he had no idea outside of the fact that he felt sore. The last thing he remembered was closing in on what the Star City press had called “The Rainbow Archer” and to say he was
unhappy about having a proven psychopath slip out of his fingers was an understatement. The Rainbow Archer had eighteen confirmed kills. Honestly during the course of his investigation he nearly sent out a message to The Caped Crusader himself asking how he dealt with all of the copycats in Gotham. Having someone make a mockery of what you did by using an inspiration of what you do to facilitate senseless murder was like seeing a mirror image of yourself— albeit one twisted, cracked, and tipped topsy-turvy. And now somebody was
responsible for The Rainbow Archer endangering more people.
The Emerald Archer’s teeth clenched as his fall came to a sharp halt.
Whoever is responsible for transporting me to wherever I am is going to be really sorry.On that point, the blonde-haired vigilante didn’t remember someone sneaking up and hitting him upside the head— there was none of the “morning after” pains of blunt force trauma. He wasn’t drugged, he’d know if he was. So it all came to an answer that nearly made him groan audibly:
magic. He had rarely dealt with enemies of that… type; so to deduce it
had to be magic was rather annoying.
Who did he piss off that could just blink him out of Star City? Or for that matter…
…where the hell was he?
He got up to his feet, cracking his sore neck from the abrasive fall. The island wasn’t inherently recognizable but it felt… familiar. The look of it reminded him of his days on Lian Yu... but something was off. It wasn’t like he had put to memory the entirety of Lian Yu, but the trees were
wrong – that much was apparent by the color of the bark. Trees on Lian Yu were not birch white nor did the species of the Mecynorhina Ugandensis exist in the Southeastern Pacific.
That’s not right.A rustling right behind the vigilante made him turn sharply, on instinct, with arrow nocked. His brows narrowed he saw something that threw him off.
Now, he had just been dealing with a poor imitation of himself… but this was
ridiculous. Green Arrow found himself surprised by the enemy that looked back at him. He had no idea what a mirror image was before today, really— because who he was staring down at was another blonde-haired, green cloaked, bow-at-the-ready, handsome individual. Another Green Arrow… another
Oliver Queen. What the hell was going on?
“I’m sorry, pal, this isn’t a good time for a Green Arrow convention. Your costume is terrible by-the-way.” He remarked at the intruder with a nervous grin.