Courtaud

Young Justice

Earlier

Quiver held one arm up, allowing Mirage a moment to inspect his injury. At the same time, he felt a sort of cool energy wrap around him, like ocean air. The feeling of Mirage's cloaking, no doubt. Quiver always found it strange to be exposed the others super powers. Being un-powered himself, he wondered what it was like for each of them to have experience the blooming of their near god-like abilities. But now he was wondering what Mirage was thinking, seeing Metamorph's handiwork slashed across his abdomen. Did she pity Quiver? The poor human? Did she get a thrill out of knowing her paramore could gut the rest of them without a second thought? Quiver felt a pain above his brow. These were the thoughts of the old Talon - an angry, explosive, lonely kid. He instantly felt embarassed, and ashamed. Here she was, this teammate he barely knew on any real level, helping to keep him alive, keep him going on the mission. She was caring.

Or she felt guilty herself.

He shook his head, trying to ditch this line of thinking. It wasn't helpful and it wasn't productive. He couldn't meet Mirage's eyes as she looked up to let him know all was well.

Now

"Quiver, smoke?"

Quiver heard Rain call out to him, and he obliged. pulling three smoke pellets from his belt, he threw them in a wide arc across from the team, adding it the group's considerable shielding. The trio of Rain, Iceburn and Mirage each exploding in a cacophony of lights and violence, cold air blasting throughout the garage. Quiver leaned back, conscious of Iceburn's suggestion not to over do it. He felt patronized, but heard Ollie telling him his team was only looking out for him, and that their empathy was genuine.

He scanned the garage and any enemies he could read through the smoke and hail of Rain's gunfire. His domino mask gave him additional sight variations, and he scanned through them in order to get a count of how many hostiles were active. The heat vision almost gave him a laugh when it was nearly blocked completely by subzero temperatures - the results of one of Iceburn's frozen walls. It was only a few moments before the fighting was over barely a moment after it began. On their comms, Rain called out to them, that he felt that their true target was within grasp.

The hooded archer walked behind Rain, glancing over his considerable shoulders and at the pallet of strange cannisters before him. Quiver grabbed one himself, inspecting it. Whatever it was that Kobra was trying to accomplish, these had a major role to play. Rain looked focused, if not slightly out of breath. Quiver opened his mouth to tell him he had done a good job on this infiltration, when suddenly they were both wincing. Quiver grabbed at his comm device in his ear, getting a gross whine and screech of some sort of electrical feedback.

He thought he could make out Stormcaller's voice. Something was going wrong - for a second he wondered if his comm's had fried.

"What's hap-"

Even from inside the compound, Quiver and his team could hear a large sizzling snap, like a loud generator or something suddenly exposed to the air. He shuffled quickly through his vision again, saw through the walls to a sort of electrical viewfinder. He could see various wiring throughout the building, but outside, a blinding white light. And then suddenly, it flashed out. Not faded - completely fried.

He relayed this same information to the others, not sure of what to make of it.

Young Justice

QUIVER

Quiver groaned softly, leaning against the metallic wall he was thrown against. He could feel fresh bruising and his arm went to his side, as they immediately started throbbing in pain. He looked over to Mirage.

“I’ll answer that once someone checks my stitches”

He gathered himself, drawing in his resolve with a deep breath through clenched teeth as he stood up. He’d be okay, he always was. At least right up until he wasn’t. Hopefully they don’t have any run-ins with a Metahuman with Kilimanjaro adjacent claws.

With the others having dispatched their targets, the four young heroes were now alone in the space. In the distance Quiver could hear the unmistakable sounds of violence, those sparkling blasts that signaled Zatara at work chief among them. A strange sense of Deja vu struck him. He was back on the team. Even if mangled and in recovery. It felt good, even if Rain was here. And even at that Quiver could tell he was half in jest.

Still, there was something strange. Mirage was right, they had torn through the their opposition. While the others were still out there engaged.

”Rain, what was the information we had about this place? If Batman and the others wanted details, further in is our best option to make this a success.”

He pointed down the continued halls, where multiple doors remained close, and strangely enough…no reinforcements were currently charging them. And after the kind of noise that Iceburn tends to make when she really lets loose, that was as shocking as anything else.

Young Justice

QUIVER

“You want me to take point? Now you sound like a leader.” Quiver called out to Rain while running ahead alongside Iceburn. Quiver felt a chilled wind as he ran alongside her– shivers running throughout his body. An interesting phenomenon considering how hot and muggy the environment had been. Quiver watched his teammate leap out from their spot and deftly launch herself into the air. He took a moment to admire her as she used her cryomancy to immediately make one of the four guards in their way a complete non-issue.

Quiver watched as a beam of cold blasted the enemy, freezing the guard mid-cry. He smirked – Iceburn was truly a force to be reckoned with.
He knocked an arrow and lined up a shot – directly at the guard in a block of ice. Running at full speed directly at him, Quiver fired. An arrow that at first glance ended with a single steal tip suddenly expanded in a moment, forming into what looked like a boxing glove. It smacked hard against the block of ice and it began to teeter over it. The young hooded hero didn’t stop his pace, he leapt atop the frozen guard and with enough of the momentum he slid across the ground using the poor soul as a makeshift surfboard.

Using the momentum, Quiver jumped high into the air as his makeshift board crashed against a series of crates – almost letting Will soar over the remaining guards. Two arrows fired off rapidly at the nearest guard. The helmeted KOBRA guard aimed his weapon at the scarlet hero. By all accounts he had him dead to rights.

He pulled the trigger, but instead of the satisfaction of blasting this punk kid superhero wannabe, his gun exploded backwards, a near giant wave of hardening foam quickly enveloping his entire body. He tried quickly to turn and run, but it was already thickening and he couldn’t swim with the tide. Soon a hulking hard foam statue was hunched over the walkway.

Quiver had time to narrowly avoid a shock blast fired in his direction – it sent him sprawling, rolling along the ground where he landed with a crash against a metallic door.

Young Justice

"If we're prioritizing stealth, send me in." Quiver was confident in his ability to make his way into the facility undetected - the life he had once lived had given him the skills necessary to do so. That however was a double edged sword, as he had carried over more than his fair share of less than admirable traits. But he was feeling this was another chance to demonstrate his value to his teammates. He was perched upon a heavy tree branch above Talos. In spite of his eagerness, he could feel a tightening in his side from the still-healing wounds he had received in his fight with Metamorph. His pride refused to call it what it actually was - a mauling. He waited for further instructions from his team leader. He was dedicated to acting exactly as he was ordered, in order to make up for last time. Stay communicative, stay frosty. No distractions.

"I'm already counting more than 16 visible Kobra. No telling on if any of them are metahumans. Are we expecting to run into more than a few specials?" Quiver asked out loud to the whole team.

Quiver reviewed his current stock of arrowheads, trying to consider which of them might be more viable now that he was more ensconced in the climate here.

Mecha/Gundam Tournament

I've been thinking of putting together a Mecha based rpg with a small group that evolves into something a little larger.

The story itself would begin during a tournament styled mech battle, similar to Gundam fights. The tournament itself would be a sponsored event, and not to the death. Everyone would be an individual pilot, and the machines themselves would be the primary forms of combat in the game.

I've debated having them be animal based mech that could potentially combine in the future, or stick with a Gundam style robot. I'm open to peoples thoughts. I like to have things be punchy and move pretty consistently, and will do my best to DM efficiently. My style of Gamemaster would be to potentially direct message a player with a particular key piece of information that only their character would know, in order to amp up the stakes and make things more engaging, world built.

Let me know if this is an idea that may spark your interest, as I'll build it out further if people think it has some potential excitement!

Young Justice

"Daphne!" Quiver called out in response to hearing her shout. He looked ahead to where she had climbed and hopped over to in time to see her almost gliding along a thick root. Quiver was relieved. He could sense a tension among the team, and Daphne's confidence as a team leader was something they were all independently aware of. The archer hoped that this mission would provide his friend a platform to prove herself further.

Honestly each of these missions was a platform in some capacity or another. The previous disaster at the docks was Quiver's first official "back to team" type event, and it ended almost as poorly as you could fear - Quiver being handed his own entrails - and by a teammate no less. In truth he was still healing up from those same injuries. Before the mission, Black Canary (against her own wishes) and Zatara had both helped tape up Will's ribs, and BC had given him strict orders to lean back into a distance-role as much as possible, or engage strictly at archer's range. Will had promised he would.

But he had made promises before.

The others making up the "ground team" were spread a small ways around each other, all keeping their balance on the platforms Mirage was able to conjure. Quiver was grateful. Of everyone on the team, he had a respect for Mirage that was different than the respect he held for the others. Her abilities were multi-faceted. It wasn't dissimilar for the feelings he had around Nymph or Zach. When you grow up knowing only fighting, the people who excel in care, or indirect combat were the folks you were jealous of.

Quiver thought he'd head onto higher ground himself as finding footing amongst all this wetland was not conducive. Quiver slung his bow and began to scale the thickest tree hide he was closest to. He began to pull himself upward, feeling the strain in his muscles from his previous fights, swung his leg up over a protruding branch, and quickly pulled himself into a sitting position. He inspected the mossy green that covered the tree, noted it's slick-ness. Not something he'd be as mobile in jumping from branch to branch.

He was still scrutinizing the lay of the land that he barely noticed the ripples in the water.

Young Justice

Location: Harbor
Interactions: Metamorph

---

Quiver’s focus on the collapsing criminal in front of him prevented him from the threat of yet another would-be-assailant. The young vigilante barely had time to register that there was another baddie nearby before a flash of color descended between the two of them. Metamorph was in full hero mode, effortlessly demonstrating his reaction time by repeatedly deflecting shots aimed for the two of them.

The shots bounced off of Metamorph’s gauntlets as if they did no more damage than common houseflies. Quiver was able to keep his attention on the criminal he had in his grasp, and was annoyed to find that the bastard had fainted - either from the pain or the fear of being shot at, saved (even if incidentally) or just in the presence of Metamorph.

Quiver eased the man back down to the ground before leaning him against one of the large metal shipping containers. He started to loot the man’s pockets for anything that could be considered useful, but shot up when he heard his teammate's sudden agonized scream.

Quiver pulled his bow as fast as he turned around, expecting Metamorph to be in a fight with another of their targets. Instead, Quiver was shocked to see his bestial teammate on his knees, gripping the sides of his head. His screams permeated deep within Quiver’s skull. He thought he could feel it bouncing off of the fillings in his teeth.

The scream was part human, mostly animal. But which animal was hard to tell. It was like a whole herd. Will reached into his actual Quiver, recognizing things could go even more sour than they already had.

Quiver got closer to his teammate with the intention of trying to talk him down, but he stopped in place as he looked into Metamorph's eyes. They were straining incredibly hard, and the young hero’s black hair was whipping violently as if caught up in a great gust of wind. Not only that, but Quiver could hear a sickening crack and snapping, as if Kilamanjaro’s skeleton was breaking all at once, shifting or moving. Quiver barely even registered that the man’s suit was now changing to a shade of crimson red.

Quiver didn’t think there was anything he could do, and felt for a proper arrow in his Arsenal.

~~~

“You didn’t see him. It wasn’t like one of the Talon’s. When we did what we did, it was methodical, we knew what we were doing. But Meta…it’s like he wasn’t there. Or something else entirely just took his place. Without Nymph? He’d have tried to rip through all of us.”

It was only a few days after Quiver’s reintroduction to the team during the bank heist, and Will was in the middle of a more heated conversation than usual with Green Arrow.

Ollie shook his head.
“He’s your teammate. Maybe even could be a friend of yours. You know how many times I’ve had to talk down a friend of mine who that week just decided they wanted to try and take over the world? Or were suddenly possessed by the literal manifestation of fear and the color yellow? Or something like that, to be honest Hal never really cleared that up for me.”

“Ollie this is serious. Where I come from? If someone ever got out of line like that, we’d put them down. What would I do if it happened again? What if Nymph wasn’t there? Just try and hug it out? I’ve let go of a lot of violence but I don’t see an exit strategy for a rogue hero turned animalistic killing machine. And I don’t have the wherewithal to try and get through to someone on this team. Why would they listen to me? I’m not the team leader, I’m not Kassy. I’m not YOU.”

Will was getting himself worked up, and Oliver knew it. When confronted with a difficult situation, it was obvious that Will was reverting back to his ways from the court of owls.

“I know all about the Tower of Babel. I know every hero has a failsafe plan to take them down if they were suddenly fighting for the other side. And I’ve got my own plan for Metamorph.” The young hero turned to the desk in front of him, it was clear he was constructing and assembling trick arrows. His arrows were nonlethal, typically meant to stun or trap. But the arrowhead in front of him now looked particularly menacing.

“Will. I think Batman would tell you that having plans to neutralize his friends was a mistake, it hurt a lot of people."

"Yeah I'm sure that's what he would say."

Will's back was to Ollie now, as he finished construction. The Green Arrow watched his young ward. They'd made a lot of progress in a short time, but there was still a long way to go. A part of him wondered if sending him back to the team was counterintuitive to Will's growth. But Ollie was an optimistic guy. He felt, deep down...that Quiver would do the right thing when the time came.

~~

Now Quiver held that same menacing looking tranquilizer arrow and slowly nocked it. It was a special grade arrow tip, sharp enough for piercing a Metahuman. It was also incredibly dangerous. Now was the perfect time to fire it between Metamorph's ribs…

Will’s head flashed with imagery of Metamorph at Mt Justice, at the circus, their first training exercises together. And then all the times Metamorph was the social one, the one who moved around with a sense of ease at all times, as if he was the coolest person in the room.

And he thought of Ollie, of the team. What would the rest of them do in a situation like this that he he himself could do too? Could he do anything but hurt people?

Quiver held the bow at full draw, but hesitated.

Why wasn’t he firing it?

He felt himself slowly lower the bow, begin to loosen the drawstring.

“Kila…it’s going to be alri-“ he never got the words out. The Red got to him first.

the alphabet game. lol

Victory

Young Justice

Location: Harbor
Interactions: Metamorph

---

“Oh now the mission is aborted.” Quiver spat to himself after hearing Rain’s instructions over comms. It was irksome hearing that from Viktor. The same guy who gave anyone shit who made a different call during missions. Quiver hadn’t forgotten the man’s rigidity. What’s changed now? He looked over at Metamorph. Quiver attributed his mood to pure focus on the sudden shift in the environment. It quick had gone from one of stealth and quiet to a bullet hell free for all. He looked back at the carnage as violent criminals screamed out at each other, and giant sheet of ice erupted across the way from where He and Metamorph were camped. Iceburn’s powers dwarfed anything Quiver could contribute. Again he felt that familiar sting he thought he had shaken off in his new life as Will. Meanwhile the man he was partnered alongside with had the abilities of what Quiver assumed was the entire animal kingdom. A walking apex predator. What was it that Nightwing and Ollie had saw in Quiver to join a team like this? Everyone here had a quality that made them a kind of monster.

What was Quiver’s monster? His past. All the violence.

Everyone else on this team was here to do good, but Quiver? He was the only one here that seemed to be on an atonement scholarship. And that was strikingly clear every time the team was put into action. Beneath the metal crates they were crouched upon, two gangsters were running away from the scene. One was running full speed while the other fired their automatic weapon back into the chaos. The sour mood that was creeping back into Will’s head needed shaking.

He pulled his collapsible bow out from it’s holster while simultaneously drawing an arrow. With absolute precision he released the bolt, an arrow with a metallic baton at the end of it. It cracked into one of the fleeing criminals square in the back. Before his target had even hit the pavement, Quiver was upon the second thug, the one with the automatic. His bow had the ability to collapse into a staff-like weapon, and he deftly swung it at a downward arc across the trigger happy gun-thug’s hands. The man screamed out in pain, firing off another round. Quiver grabbed the man’s trigger hand in his fist, seeing that the fingers were broken, already purpling over. The man screamed out in pain, unable to stop firing with his now rapidly swelling hand.

“Quiet.” Quiver opened the man’s broken hand and the man cried out again. The young hero tossed the rifle up to where Metamorph remained. Over his shoulder, the first thug lay collapsed unconscious. So Will turned the one in his grasp away, pulling him into swift headlock. The mission itself had collapsed – though not through any fault of the team. But it could be salvaged. Quiver could find out more about this illegal trade. If he employed some of his previously retired skills. His interrogation skills from his time as a Talon in the court of owls….

Young Justice

Location: Harbor
Interactions: Kilamanjaro

---

Quiver had been used to working in cover, most of his life he was trained in secret, operating in the dark, an assassin of the Court of Owls. A recon mission was not unlike that, except now - as an interim member of the League - he wouldn’t be required to kill anyone.

Since leaving the team the first time, Will had grown considerably. Not just in taking on a real name, but discovering himself outside of violence. Since leaving his first real “friends” he had become much more of a willing participant in his own existence. He’d made non super friends in Star City, gotten a day job, and had even been dragged on a double date when Arsenal had him double with his girlfriends younger sister.

But it wasn’t long before this new version of Will had started to miss his friends from the team. He felt he had more to offer them now, outside of a ball of angst and violence - he was someone who could communicate better, and he’d softened his stance on aggression.

Although if he was being honest, he wouldn’t mind throwing hands with Viktor.

But now here he was, back in the hero game with a bit more levity. And although he hadn’t introduced his identity to the others, he knew it likely that some of them would sense their old teammate beneath the new mask…

Or they could smell it on him with their animalistic instincts.

But that wasn’t what Quiver was most worried about when he turned to the other boy he had been paired with. Not too long ago, Metamorph had undergone some kind of bestial change, a complete rage. Quiver had seen warriors in similar states of targeted aggression, but never to that extent. Since the bank heist situation Quiver hadn’t interacted much with the others, he hadn’t joined them back at home base just yet. But he knew from Ollie and Dinah that Metamorph had taken the change hard.

Metamorph could be sensitive to that situation, and Quiver knew it was likely a sore subject. But now wasn’t the time to dwell.

Quiver had, in a past life, been a killing machine. But that’s not who he is. And not how he’d want to be judged. He’d thought the same of Metamorph.

“Meta - I lost track of Pei and Viktor, but the others are in a safe position. And I’d bet all of the 8 dollars in my savings account that purple flare of energy was our man Zatara.”

Quiver was looking through a pair of night vision goggles that were strung into his hood. GA had given him a sort of tech that would let him mark hostiles temporarily to help with positioning.

*SPING*

A bullet flashed not far from Quiver’s head, the spark of it temp blinding his goggles. He looked at Metamorph with wide eyes at the near hit, avoided by merely dumb luck.

“If anyone asks…tell Viktor I dodged that.”