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EARTH ONE




GREEN ARROW



| IDENTITY |

  • Oliver Queen
  • Green Arrow


| ORIGIN & BACKSTORY |
1981-2004: Queen



2004-2009: Purgatory



2009-2012: Green Arrow



2012-2014: Speedy



2014-2015: Hawke



| ATTRIBUTES |

Archery | First and foremost of Oliver's abilities is his prowess with a bow and arrow. He can use anything from the most simple bows and arrows to complicated composite bows and trick arrows with full efficiency. Archery is like second nature to him, and many have said that his marksmanship is like that of a metahuman’s. He was happy to prove them wrong.

Swordsmanship | Taught by Natas, Oliver is an adept swordsman, though he rarely takes a blade into the field, instead practising his scales and techniques as a means to maintain physical and mental fitness.

Martial Arts | Receiving training from both Natas and Black Canary, Oliver has become a skilled martial artist. While not as capable as, say, Batman, he has proven on more than one occasion that he is more than able to hold his own.

Peak Human Conditioning | In order to survive on Lian Yu, Oliver had to push his body to the very limit, transforming it into a weapon. Most notable of his enhanced capabilities is his hand-eye coordination, many mistaking him for a metahuman purely due to his reflexes and eyesight.

Multi-Lingual | Oliver is fluent in multiple languages, taught Mandarin and Japanese by Natas, and having learnt Russian upon his return to Star City. Connor has also taught him snippets of Korean.

Acrobatics | A capable acrobat, Oliver often incorporates archery into his manoeuvres, pulling off seemingly impossible shots.





Oliver Queen had never been particularly fond of the supernatural. He was no stranger to the occult – hell, a day in Star City isn’t complete without some rich guy making a deal with some devils – but over the course of his time as Green Arrow, there hasn’t been a day where he wasn’t tempted to just call onto Zatanna or John Constantine. And something was telling him that today… was one of those days.

He’d been patrolling Adams Heights with Mia and Connor when it happened. The change was instant, like a scene changing in a movie. The urban jungle of Star City’s CBD was replaced by a literal jungle, thick underbrush crowding around Oliver’s feet. Panicked, He looked around frantically for his ward and his son, his panic soon replaced by familiarity as he realised where he was. There were differences, that’s for sure, but there was no denying it: he was on Lian Yu.

His mind raced for an explanation as to how he’d gotten here, but despite his best efforts, nothing came to him – nothing but a single word. Magic. The archer swore at his misfortune. Of course it had to be magic. It couldn’t be Lex Luthor’s newest death machine, or the Toyman’s new and improved interdimensional, technological teleportation device. No. Magic. Honest to god, Doctor Fate-style magic. If Oliver didn’t know any better, he’d have punched a tree by now.

Instead, he decided to do some recon. Whoever brought him here – to this cheap mockery of his island – must have brought him here for a reason. As far as he knew, this was one gigantic trap waiting to snap its jaws at him. With an arrow nocked on his bow, he began to creep through the tangle of green, looking out for anything that might clue him towards a threat.

It wasn’t long before he found one. The years he spent surviving on the real Lian Yu honed his eyes to the point that some mistook his vision to be at metahuman levels – so where someone else may have dismissed the camouflaged hooded figure as part of the vegetation, Oliver knew better. As he crept closer towards the man, a quiver and bow came into sight. A guy wearing green, carrying a bow and a quiver of arrows? This person was a fan.

Gaze transfixed on the man’s back, Oliver didn’t notice the small bush until it was too late. It rustled loudly as his foot waded through it, and the man turned with speed that rivalled his own, arrow pulled back tight on the bowstring. Oliver’s brows furrowed. This guy looked near-identical to him, bar the severe lack of goatee. It didn’t make any sense. Then again, magic never does, he thought.

“I’m sorry, pal, this isn’t a good time for a Green Arrow convention. Your costume is terrible by-the-way,” said his impostor, wearing a grin that Oliver knew all too well. The grin he’d flash whenever Dinah was mad at him, or when Connor made him talk about his feelings. He was nervous.

“My costume’s terrible? Hey, now, listen, guy – ” he cut himself off before he said anything brash. The last thing he needed was to fight the person that could very well be his only means for some answers. “What the hell is going on here?”


In Oneshots 9 yrs ago Forum: The Gallery
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In Oneshots 9 yrs ago Forum: The Gallery
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Meh. Not the best post, but it's something. I just wanted to get something written for Ollie.



O L I V E R Q U E E N ’ S A P A R T M E N T,
S T A R C I T Y
1 1 : 0 0 P M


“Oliver – you’re broke.” Those were among the first words to leave Walter’s mouth when Oliver re-entered his office earlier that night, seeking an explanation for Walter’s cryptic words that morning. Oliver didn’t understand at first – Great, he thought, More metaphorical mumbo-jumbo – but as Walter explained himself, a sinking feeling settled into his gut, and he went numb with outrage, spreading through him like pins and needles.

Stellmoor International, as he’d learned but a dozen hours ago, had acquired Queen Industries through a hostile takeover, and in doing so had gained near complete control of Oliver’s finances. For whatever reason – and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find one – QI’s new CFO, Isabel Rochev, had ordered all of his accounts frozen, effective immediately. His savings, his fortune – all gone. He still had two million dollars safe for an emergency such as this, but who was he kidding; that money wasn’t going to keep him afloat forever. Sooner rather than later, it was going to run out, and when it did, he’d drown.

Walter was right. He was broke.

Now, Oliver lay on his couch in his expansive living room, accompanied by his dog, George – a massive, wolf-like beast of a canine, rescued by Oliver’s green-garbed persona from a dogfighting ring – who curled at Oliver’s feet with his eyes half opened, looking like little more than a harmless puppy as he tried to fight off the coming tides of sleep. A half-empty coffee mug stood steaming on the table next to them, the bitter smell of caffeine lingering in Oliver's nostrils.

He didn’t need it to keep awake. The sleep didn’t want to come. It avoided him as he thought of how this could very well be the beginning of his final nights in this apartment. Slowly but surely, his money would deplete to the point that rent appeared all but unpayable, and then what? Where would he go? Where could he go? He had two kids and a dog to take care of. Roy had enough on his plate trying to provide for himself and baby Lian, and Diggle would certainly not be able to afford to accommodate them – not in his tiny, room-for-one apartment. And Dinah… Dinah wasn’t an option. Oliver wouldn’t dare ask for her help, not after what he did he to her, to their relationship. As far as he knew, she still hated him, even after all this time. He didn’t blame her.

He was snapped back to reality by George, his teeth bared in a threatening growl. The demi-wolf leapt down from the couch, stalking around it – Oliver followed suit, rolling into a low crouch. He followed his dog with caution, creeping around to the other side of the couch – to be met with tip of an arrow, mere inches from his face.

A black-hooded man stared at him behind a full-face mask, lean, muscular arms holding his bow and arrow in place.



“Hello, Oliver.” His voice was distorted, deep and menacing – but beneath it was something else. Oliver could hear it. Joy.

Whoever this psycho was, he was enjoying this.

Oliver’s instincts took over. Without a second though, he flipped backwards through the air, landing behind the coffee table. He kicked it, catching it as it flipped towards him, the coffee mug shattering as it fell to the floor. Holding the table up as cover, he called for George, his dog obeying as the intruder’s arrow thudded into the wood.

Down the hall two doors opened, voices ringing out in alarm.

“Dad?!” shouted Connor.

“Ollie?!” exclaimed Mia Dearden, running towards the commotion. She was a good kid, Mia; one of the most naturally gifted archers Oliver had ever met – a former sex worker turned superhero, she’d gone through hell to get to where she is now – and Oliver would be damned if he let her or his son get themselves killed.

“Connor! Mia! Get your bows! Now!” he yelled, and with a mighty heave he pushed at the table, sending it flying towards the archer, who dodged it with ease – giving Ollie a perfect opening.

Using the couch as a launching pad, he flew into the air, sending all of his strength into a fist as he crashed down on his attacker, catching him across the face. He followed it with an uppercut to the chin, backed up by a cross – he couldn’t let the intruder recover, couldn’t let him catch his breath. He kicked the man in the chest, sending him stumbling, and followed it with yet another cross – the archer made to nock another arrow, and Oliver kicked his bow hand, sending the weapon clattering onto the ground. He punched him three times in quick succession, ripping his mask off after the third – revealing a man little over thirty, brown stubble covering his cheeks. Blood trickled from his nose, and he smirked at Oliver – sparking an anger within him he knew all too well.

Gripping the man’s lapel, he growled. “You come into my home, you attack me, you threaten my family – who are you?! What do you want?!”

He got no reply – just a low gurgle, barely resembling laughter.

His eyes narrowed, Oliver pulled the man closer, his voice little more than a menacing growl. “Tell. Me. Now.”

The man’s laugh was easier to make out this time, short and stilted, and reeking of amusement. His voice was no longer filtered as he spoke, and he stared into Oliver’s eyes, not a hint of fear showing in his own. “You don’t have much time left, Queen,” he said, “Komodo is coming. And when he does, you will wish you’d have let me kill you.” He bit down on something, and Oliver’s eyes widened as he realised what it was – a cyanide pill. Before he could do anything, the man's mouth began to froth, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. “Fear him,” he gurgled, his body convulsing. “Fear him.”

Oliver stood, watching him as he took his last breath. Mia and Connor stood behind him, bows in hand.

“Dad?” asked Connor, resting a hand on his father’s back. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” said Oliver, his eyes distant. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
That'd be a very interesting combo for Ginny. I'd love to do something with your characters. Though keep in mind I'm holding off for S2. :)

@FallenreaperShhhhhhhh.

@Blue DemonSo is he. :p

Lol that I am. :P
I guess I should mention, now that I've moved all the easy stuff over to the official CS, that if anyone wants to work with Ginny that directly effects her origins or anything (as pertaining to season 2), now would be the time to say something. If not I'll be setting her up as completely solo act for the time being that's trying to encroach onto other people's territories.

Ditto for Mindjack and Aeon. Lemme know if you want to work something out.

Btw, BD, really liking Ginny so far. I might be interested in doing something between her and Mindjack/Aeon/both, if that's something you'd like.
I've made the necessary edits to my second char, so I figured that I'd post it along with the first so you guys don't have to move between pages to take a look at them. Hope they're all good.


So I figured I'd get this up for review so I can see what's good and what needs editing in anticipation for Season 2. In rereading the second character's sheet, he still needs some work, but having this guy up should do for now. I present to you:

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