Courtaud

Young Justice

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"So you're doing this as a personal favor, to Green Arrow? Taking the team's problem child out on a mission?"

"Not so much a mission right now as it is a bite to eat. This burger place is the best spot in Coast City. I'd recommend the Green Lantern Burger - it comes in a lettuce wrap. Better for you-ish." Hal relaxed into a booth along the restaurant's edge. Quiver sat awkwardly across from him, taking time to absorb all of the Green Lantern memorabilia and news articles adorning the walls. Quiver was quick to notice that there were more than just Hal Jordan's photos up, but several different earth lantern's, and even a few aliens alongside them.

"So...how's the kid superhero gang going for you? I was never on one of those teen teams, but I bet it's a good time. Learning powers, sneaking around behind the teachers back, everyone crushing on each other. Probably a lot like college. Or so I'd guess, I never went." At that point a waitress came up to the two of them, and Hal took the initiative to order for both of them - two GL Burgers. Extra Willpower Sauce. (It's vegan.)

Quiver wondered what the others were doing on their first "day" with their new tutors. What kind of combat exercises they were going through. He felt starting here getting food was a waste of time. But Hal Jordan was the most championed Green Lantern in its history, and saved the world alongside the Justice Leage countless times. He must have his reasons. And Green Arrow must have his reasons for asking him to take Quiver under his wing, even temporarily.

"You're thinking that GA asked me to babysit you because of your bad attitude or something - I think you got the wrong idea. How much you know about the Lantern Corps?" Hal asked, almost conspiratorially. He pointed a steak-fry at Quiver across the table.

"You're space cops, with power rings that run on willpower." Quiver sipped out of a Strawberry Milkshake, looking ridiculous through his frown and pointed eyebrows. Hal smiled at his explanation, grabbed his GL Burger and jumped in.

"I resent the Space Cops thing - if the Corps are Space Cops, what's that make the League? If you called Ollie a cop, that guy would freak out instantly. Trust me on that. But you're mostly right on the willpower thing. Although that's just us who sport the Green." He made an effort to show his Lantern Ring to Quiver, it's insignia on it shining gold.

"I've had enough hearing about The Red and The Green and all this stuff. Trust me." Quiver felt a phantom pain in his ribs.

"Not like your friends Metamorph or Nymph. When it comes to the Corps, it's a spectrum. Green is the color of Willpower. Yellow equals fear. Red? Rage. That's just an intro lesson. But I'm not here to talk color theory with you. According to your teachers at Mt Justice, you started this whole hero gig barely able to communicate, and despite all that - you're apparently the most hot headed member on this team. Outspoken, volatile, opinionated. Even IF - and I'm quoting Dinah here - you're "not expressing the things that actually matter to you."

Quiver felt a moment of embarrassment at that, but it passed fleetingly.

"And that's the whole point. The Corps? You have to be passionate. No matter what that emotional spectrum is that you're feeling. And it's clear that you've got passion, even if you don't know which direction to point it. So to speak." With that, Hal took another big bite of his burger, after picking up a pickle that had fallen out of the lettuce wrap.

"So what then, you're going to help me regulate that? Give me some breathing exercises?"

Hal wiped his face with a napkin with his own masked face printed on it.

"No, we're going to space."

---

Young Justice

"I am standing up for myself, and this team. This is me doing better." Quiver bore a look at Stormcaller, hesitating slightly at her injured form. She had put up a hell of a fight, even if she was as damaged as she was. But her injuries didn't come from one of her own teammates. And so Quiver wouldn't let her talk him down.

"You're right - there was a lot of mistakes made. Primarily in judgement." Quiver pointed at the screen again.

"His. Canary's. Red Tornado. What do they know and don't want to tell us? Or don't trust us enough to tell us? Do they think Talos and I fought off Metamorph in that state for fun? Because we are reckless teenagers? And what happened after? He got grounded. What were they doing to HELP him with this? Because not helping him means they're putting the REST of us at risk. But maybe some of us are just expendable that way."

Quiver could feel the floodgates opening up, whatever it was he was mad at was buckshot. The rest of them had gotten home, no losses, and Stormcaller had enough of her usual spark to try and talk him down. Was he mad at Metamorph? Not exactly, it was almost like a frustration with everything - this situation, unresolved awkwardness from his recovery after Metamorph snapped.

But he hated standing here in front of Batman giving some sort of book report on how things went. How does he THINK things went if he knows what happened?

Quiver looked at Mirage, clearly upset over her best friend.

"You're wrong. You said Metamorph came to the site because he loves us. But he doesn't. Not all of us. Not me. I know I got pulled away from this team, and you all had a chance to get closer while I was gone. I have a lot I'm working on, but sometimes when I'm around the rest of you, it's like...like I'm beneath some of you. How quick some of you were to forgive Metamorph for what he did. But what he did, he did to ME. Even if he wasn't in control. And he never even said sorry."

Young Justice

"It's clear that whatever therapy The League has offered us hasn't helped with identifying whatever it was that's caused Metamorph to try and kill their own teammates, or be upfront about how dangerous their presence actually is."

Quiver, domino mask still across his eyes, pointed at the view screen overlooking them all, the one with the visage of the Dark Knight. He hit his open palm on the tabletop and felt his blood starting to boil. He tried to get himself under control as best he could, but was faltering.

"But I suspect that Batman and the League were already well aware of how dangerous Metamorph is. Even before he went feral and gutted me. No, I've talked enough with Nightwing - it's Classic Batman. Know everything, say nothing. Isn't that right?" Talon practically spat the words out, irritated that his teammates had to sit here contrite, when who's fault was all of this really? Was it any of theirs? NO. It was The League's, it was METAMORPH'S.

"Instead of letting any of us know what was out there, you all just let us walk in there like common children - NOT allies, NOT equals. You think I don't know who Deathstroke the Terminator is? You think I don't know about the time he ripped through the League single-handedly? And you want us to what? Apologize? Nymph held her own as well as any of us, and Rain did...fine!"

Young Justice

Location: Team Jet
Mentions: Metamorph, Mirage, Iceburn, Zatara, Nymph

Now

Quiver spent the entire ride back silent. Not exactly a change of pace for him. It was years before he was comfortable communicating verbally beyond violence, and to his ultimate frustration he discovered the majority of his communication was bitter, angry, jealous. He was equally desperate to connect with others, wanting to make friends and allies. A family. But his personality was preventing him from doing so. What was real for him? He knew not how to express the things that would bring him peace. One of the things he had learned from Green Arrow (shockingly enough) was to keep quiet when you feel you would regret saying something. This was one of those moments.

Truthfully, he was shocked. He was hurt - and again he was bitter. The others - the feeling in the jet? They were BEREFT. Metamorph had freely given himself up in exchange for Daphne. And yet, almost everyone here was near heartbreak. It wasn't long ago that Metamorph had nearly killed Quiver. Did they act this way for him? Mirage - someone Quiver had considered emotionally mature - had acted so upset at what was happening to Metamorph, and now that he'd sacrificed his freedom? Everyone looked like someone had broken them all completely.

Quiver felt his hands ball into fists.

Daphne was his friend - and despite the way some of the others treated her, one of the more capable heroes here. Iceburn - incorrigible as she was - was correct. It was this secret keeping and angst that was killing this team. Either rooting them all out emotionally, or else literally nearly killing them. What was everyone's problem? Here they were able to communicate and yet just deciding to keep their secrets. Quiver would KILL to be able to express himself and love like Metamorph can, and yet he wasted his time wanting to what? Not let the others worry? Keep them all at an arms-length because of his multiple personality's? Iceburn was making a LOT of sense. Quiver would have to let her know.

And how much did the LEAGUE know about how much of a threat Metamorph was? We didn't even have a full grasp or understanding of what he was capable of. Does he? How can we work coherently and cohesively around someone like that?

Quiver banged a fist against his seat harder than he might have intended as the jet settled and the others unbuckled. He wanted to fight, to spar, to lash out in a hundred ways - ways that he KNEW weren't helpful. But what else was there to do? Fucking sit around feeling sorry for everyone? Tell everyone "hey that guy could have killed me before, and the fact that everyone is so heartbroken over him right now makes me feel like less than nothing?"

Fuck that.

He got up, passed Zatara and Mirage on the way out.

Soon he'd find some time to speak with Iceburn, alone.

They were all better off without Metamorph. It was a more than fair trade.

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.