[unfortunate] events
7/21/2016 - 7/26/2016
being hungry had been the worst of it as far as connor was concerned, especially when everything that had once been fresh in his refridgerator (or at least close to it) was edging on rotten. a spot here, a nefarious looking bruise there, something a little too squishy for it's own good -- the amount of food connor had to actually throw out was unfortunate and he hadn't been lying when he said he was back to college bachelor status: aside from what was clearly his roommate's and marked as such, he was back to condiments and ramen.
thankfully, he didn't have a problem with that.
five a.m. was no time to consider going out to buy everything he needed to actually make a fancy package of twenty-five cent ramen, but with the gochujang still good and an egg "borrowed" from his roommate, he could make due. screw the sodium count that came with throwing in the whole package of seasoning in, forget the fact it was probably the worst thing he could eat compared to his usually healthier diet, outright damn the fact it was five in the morning and, in a few hours, he would actually be facing an employer who wasn't too happy with another missed week without a call never mind the state of emergency that boston was in with so many people missing -- connor was hungry.
he supposed being locked up in a warehouse for a week would do that to a person, absently glancing down to his stomach for a moment while the water was brought up to a boil though his thoughts didn't necessarily linger on being gone for a week or being poorly nourished when it was all over. no, they rested firmly with the fact that wherever he had been, wherever that place had been, there was something significantly missing from the equation -- and he knew it had something to do with his father.
well, connor hawke's father. his father was dead.
the splash of the water across the stovetop and the accompanying sizzle of it heating up caught connor's attention again, a quiet curse cutting through the quiet of the kitchen as he turned down the heat and made sure there was still enough water to cook the noodles before dumping them in. the rest he would have to clean up later when it wasn't so hot, careful as he continued adding ingredients at the right time, stirring to make sure the egg didn't all congeal in one spot and the spice of the gochujang mixed in with the packet of chicken flavor as evenly as possible. perhaps egg and gochujang paled in comparison to everything he could have added to make it more than the college staple, but it was what he had and there was no doubting it would be filling enough.
by the time he had settled down at the table by himself, his thoughts were far more focused on the food than the missing pieces of the last week. maybe he would figure it all out later, but for now, it was simply one step at a time -- or one bite at a time.
being locked up in a warehouse wasn't exactly connor's idea of a good time and neither was suddenly being ripped from the facade of star city. even if he had known it was wrong, even if he knew he was supposed to be in boston, even if things had only gradually gotten more and more suspicious -- glitchy, even -- even his regenerative abilities didn't block out just how sore and hungry and fatigued his body had been upon waking. it wouldn't last too long, no, but it was enough for connor to realize that the week --
-- well, it had all been a lie.
"ugh... my head," he groaned, eyes squeezing shut and head lobbing back with careful and calculated movement to try and roll out any stiff feeling there had been from having it hang there for the week - at least he assumed it was a week given the span of days and nights he had spent in star city. of course, it didn't roll out so easy and especially not against whatever held him there, connor glancing down to his wrists for a second that didn't necessarily show signs of struggle, but he knew must have been held down all the same, be they strapped or cuffed or otherwise locked down - especially considering if anyone had tried to capture him for whatever reason, he would have outright punched them in the throat.
opening up his eyes at last, he let his head roll back up onto tired shoulders, glancing around the room to the others that had been in a similar predicament. many he didn't know. in fact, most he would say he didn't, but there were those few faces in the crowd he recognized...
even if he had wanted to ask questions in light of his confusion upon waking, connor didn't, instead focusing on the screens and equipment in the building and the building itself, some warehouse he presumed must have been in boston. with as many people as there were, it wasn't like transporting them all would have been effective -- but then where had they been for the week? here? starving? just waiting for something to happen to bring them out of it?
but he couldn't have been... not when he had been in star city, when he had seen it with his own two eyes, when he had helped dinah look for oliver and found sherwood forest destroyed, nothing but a star-shaped explosion in the center of the city. again, there was a purse of his eyes, the throbbing in his head momentarily more severe as he tried to think about everything that had happened and how it had happened, still not sure how they could have all been in one place while in another at the same time.
"ugh," he sounded again, wrinkling up his nose and furrowing his brow. there was something else entirely unpleasant about the situation, one he might have been slow to pick up on before, but certainly wasn't now given it's intrusion. "i smell horrible."
-- well, it had all been a lie.
"ugh... my head," he groaned, eyes squeezing shut and head lobbing back with careful and calculated movement to try and roll out any stiff feeling there had been from having it hang there for the week - at least he assumed it was a week given the span of days and nights he had spent in star city. of course, it didn't roll out so easy and especially not against whatever held him there, connor glancing down to his wrists for a second that didn't necessarily show signs of struggle, but he knew must have been held down all the same, be they strapped or cuffed or otherwise locked down - especially considering if anyone had tried to capture him for whatever reason, he would have outright punched them in the throat.
opening up his eyes at last, he let his head roll back up onto tired shoulders, glancing around the room to the others that had been in a similar predicament. many he didn't know. in fact, most he would say he didn't, but there were those few faces in the crowd he recognized...
even if he had wanted to ask questions in light of his confusion upon waking, connor didn't, instead focusing on the screens and equipment in the building and the building itself, some warehouse he presumed must have been in boston. with as many people as there were, it wasn't like transporting them all would have been effective -- but then where had they been for the week? here? starving? just waiting for something to happen to bring them out of it?
but he couldn't have been... not when he had been in star city, when he had seen it with his own two eyes, when he had helped dinah look for oliver and found sherwood forest destroyed, nothing but a star-shaped explosion in the center of the city. again, there was a purse of his eyes, the throbbing in his head momentarily more severe as he tried to think about everything that had happened and how it had happened, still not sure how they could have all been in one place while in another at the same time.
"ugh," he sounded again, wrinkling up his nose and furrowing his brow. there was something else entirely unpleasant about the situation, one he might have been slow to pick up on before, but certainly wasn't now given it's intrusion. "i smell horrible."
| ... i really need famous friends for this reason. i'm surprised i haven't eaten everything in the fridge yet. |
| is everything in your fridge a little spoiled too? |
| yeah, i cleaned quite a bit of it out that was mine... i am back to college bachelor status: ramen and condiments. |
being hungry had been the worst of it as far as connor was concerned, especially when everything that had once been fresh in his refridgerator (or at least close to it) was edging on rotten. a spot here, a nefarious looking bruise there, something a little too squishy for it's own good -- the amount of food connor had to actually throw out was unfortunate and he hadn't been lying when he said he was back to college bachelor status: aside from what was clearly his roommate's and marked as such, he was back to condiments and ramen.
thankfully, he didn't have a problem with that.
five a.m. was no time to consider going out to buy everything he needed to actually make a fancy package of twenty-five cent ramen, but with the gochujang still good and an egg "borrowed" from his roommate, he could make due. screw the sodium count that came with throwing in the whole package of seasoning in, forget the fact it was probably the worst thing he could eat compared to his usually healthier diet, outright damn the fact it was five in the morning and, in a few hours, he would actually be facing an employer who wasn't too happy with another missed week without a call never mind the state of emergency that boston was in with so many people missing -- connor was hungry.
he supposed being locked up in a warehouse for a week would do that to a person, absently glancing down to his stomach for a moment while the water was brought up to a boil though his thoughts didn't necessarily linger on being gone for a week or being poorly nourished when it was all over. no, they rested firmly with the fact that wherever he had been, wherever that place had been, there was something significantly missing from the equation -- and he knew it had something to do with his father.
well, connor hawke's father. his father was dead.
the splash of the water across the stovetop and the accompanying sizzle of it heating up caught connor's attention again, a quiet curse cutting through the quiet of the kitchen as he turned down the heat and made sure there was still enough water to cook the noodles before dumping them in. the rest he would have to clean up later when it wasn't so hot, careful as he continued adding ingredients at the right time, stirring to make sure the egg didn't all congeal in one spot and the spice of the gochujang mixed in with the packet of chicken flavor as evenly as possible. perhaps egg and gochujang paled in comparison to everything he could have added to make it more than the college staple, but it was what he had and there was no doubting it would be filling enough.
by the time he had settled down at the table by himself, his thoughts were far more focused on the food than the missing pieces of the last week. maybe he would figure it all out later, but for now, it was simply one step at a time -- or one bite at a time.
it shouldn't have been of any surprise that his boss had enough. within the course of three months, connor had missing a month of work and it didn't seem to matter if there was a city-wide emergency or a lockdown or anything of the sort that was well beyond connor's realm of control: he needed someone he could count on and he needed someone who would be there every single day scheduled and he needed someone reliable and he needed...
he needed a lot, really, but connor hadn't argued more than he had felt required to explain his absence of late - not that there was much he could think to say about it, not so sure himself what had been real and what was just a figment of his imagination or some idea embedded into his head, however it all panned out in all reality. suggesting that, however, would have only received a skeptical look from his boss, perhaps outright questioning his mental stability despite all outward appearances of having it all together, just as suggesting he had gone on a week-long vacation to another city entirely would have just turned it far more towards stern.
one paycheck later, the last he would be received from this particular business, connor was at wildecat, sitting on a bench in his work out clothes, taping up his hands with particular focus though it was anyone's guess whether it was actually on the process of making sure his hands were even the smallest bit padded or something else entirely...
it wouldn't matter by the time he was actually squared up with someone, connor focusing on that instead of just how a week away -- three weeks, as far as his boss had cited -- and not of his own volition had effectively ruined a good portion of his income. there was wildecat, of course, and considering his connections there, he doubted he would be saying goodbye any time soon; and then there was potential elsewhere, thanks to tyson, so connor wasn't entirely without, but he would have been lying if he said it wasn't frustrating --
-- no, angering.
"whoa--!" his sparring partner dipped back and away from a strong jab, whipping their torso around as quick as possible to avoice another as connor focused that negative energy into the fight. it was better this way. it didn't keep it in, but he didn't let it get out of hand. it didn't errupt out of the ring and it wouldn't hurt anyone, that sense of unbridled anger not at all foreign to connor though it had been years since he had felt even a fraction of it. perhaps it was a good thing he had found it now that he actually had half a mind - well, two minds, if one wanted to count the intrusion of connor hawke into his life - to control it, but he knew just as well there was no fixing it; that losing his job was only the cover to something more, something that harked back to that feeling of loss he felt from the week prior even if he didn't necessarily know why, a emptiness that wouldn't be filled until...
"connor!" another strong swipe of the back of his fist, dangerously close to his partner's face, forced her into much more significant action, ducking down underneath it only to throw her arm up to catch his, her other slamming right into the kote point on his elbow.
"ouch!" he yelled, less concerned about the fight now and more his arm, reaching up to grab his elbow though it did little to actually stop the pain momentarily radiating through it as much as his body seemed to adjust to it. it was always rather quick these days...
"you feeling alright?" she asked, letting go of his arm once she was sure he was back in the present and not... wherever it was his mind had gone.
"yeah," he nodded, rolling out his shoulder before taking a few steps back and bowing a few times, hands together in front of him. "i'm sorry."
one paycheck later, the last he would be received from this particular business, connor was at wildecat, sitting on a bench in his work out clothes, taping up his hands with particular focus though it was anyone's guess whether it was actually on the process of making sure his hands were even the smallest bit padded or something else entirely...
it wouldn't matter by the time he was actually squared up with someone, connor focusing on that instead of just how a week away -- three weeks, as far as his boss had cited -- and not of his own volition had effectively ruined a good portion of his income. there was wildecat, of course, and considering his connections there, he doubted he would be saying goodbye any time soon; and then there was potential elsewhere, thanks to tyson, so connor wasn't entirely without, but he would have been lying if he said it wasn't frustrating --
-- no, angering.
"whoa--!" his sparring partner dipped back and away from a strong jab, whipping their torso around as quick as possible to avoice another as connor focused that negative energy into the fight. it was better this way. it didn't keep it in, but he didn't let it get out of hand. it didn't errupt out of the ring and it wouldn't hurt anyone, that sense of unbridled anger not at all foreign to connor though it had been years since he had felt even a fraction of it. perhaps it was a good thing he had found it now that he actually had half a mind - well, two minds, if one wanted to count the intrusion of connor hawke into his life - to control it, but he knew just as well there was no fixing it; that losing his job was only the cover to something more, something that harked back to that feeling of loss he felt from the week prior even if he didn't necessarily know why, a emptiness that wouldn't be filled until...
"connor!" another strong swipe of the back of his fist, dangerously close to his partner's face, forced her into much more significant action, ducking down underneath it only to throw her arm up to catch his, her other slamming right into the kote point on his elbow.
"ouch!" he yelled, less concerned about the fight now and more his arm, reaching up to grab his elbow though it did little to actually stop the pain momentarily radiating through it as much as his body seemed to adjust to it. it was always rather quick these days...
"you feeling alright?" she asked, letting go of his arm once she was sure he was back in the present and not... wherever it was his mind had gone.
"yeah," he nodded, rolling out his shoulder before taking a few steps back and bowing a few times, hands together in front of him. "i'm sorry."
this was the most at peace he had felt throughout the week so far, connor lined up with a far target, bow in hand and arm pulling back the string. he couldn't explain how the tension seemed to drain every bit of the same he had been feeling; how the act of actually holding the string and aiming seemed to sap it all out of his system, giving him the peace of mind to focus on making a proper shot instead of seeing the arrow go flying over the target and into the ground behind it, under the target and into the stand or off to the side and, as he had done before when he was starting out, into someone else's target.
at least he had gotten a bull's eye that time...
he made minute adjustments to his posture or the twist of his elbow, the shift of his shoulder and the height of his arm, waiting for everything to settle into what was easily a tunnel vision of sorts. it was just him and the target and the bow and the arrow, the latter holding all intention to pierce the center of the target if connor had focused and positioned himself and the shot properly. there was always some uncertainty, some jerk that happened when the string was released and snapped, unless one was using an olympic-level bow with counter balancing, but it seemed neither here not there as he let the bow string go.
it snapped hard given the pull connor had on it, perhaps far exceeding what was necessary as the arrow bedded itself deep into the target, a good four inches sticking into the center with ease. he wouldn't fetch it, not yet, docking another arrow only to start the same process over. aim, adjust, aim again and fire. he was no robin hood, this he knew, and there was no way he was going to be able to split an arrow, but even he attempted to cluster the shots as close to that first one as he possibly could.
it wasn't until he was satisfied with the traditional arrows that he regarded those left for him by... well, connor hawke, he supposed, though as he looked over the choices (of which there were many), even he could feel the distaste there was to be found for the majority of the trick arrows. they all had gimmicks in some way, some trick meant to serve a particular purpose, and although they were useful, he was sure, in some situations, just as many were useless.
of course, he wouldn't know which were which until he tried them and as entertaining at firing cat arrows at people's doors was, that was all it was: entertainment.
grabbing one of the arrows with a cylindrical end, there was really no telling what it could do or how it would fly -- not until he docked it, hoisting his arms up and focusing on the target. it could explode for all he knew, whether that would be a flash or a frag or incendiary and set everything on fire; or it could do something else entirely, something weird and unheard of when it came to traditional arrow build. narrowing his eyes slightly, he drew back the string with enough pull to accomodate the less streamline build, letting it fly --
kaboom!
"oh shit!" connor yelled, dropping back onto his rear end as the target exploded, splintering apart the stand, arrows and the target itself, sending bits of wood and padding and multicolored paper into the air and onto the ground. bow resting next to him down, he stared wide-eyed for a moment before twisting his attention over to the box of arrows: "those..."
those were obviously grenades, connor glancing around the range to make sure that, just as he had arrived, he was still the only one there.
at least he had gotten a bull's eye that time...
he made minute adjustments to his posture or the twist of his elbow, the shift of his shoulder and the height of his arm, waiting for everything to settle into what was easily a tunnel vision of sorts. it was just him and the target and the bow and the arrow, the latter holding all intention to pierce the center of the target if connor had focused and positioned himself and the shot properly. there was always some uncertainty, some jerk that happened when the string was released and snapped, unless one was using an olympic-level bow with counter balancing, but it seemed neither here not there as he let the bow string go.
it snapped hard given the pull connor had on it, perhaps far exceeding what was necessary as the arrow bedded itself deep into the target, a good four inches sticking into the center with ease. he wouldn't fetch it, not yet, docking another arrow only to start the same process over. aim, adjust, aim again and fire. he was no robin hood, this he knew, and there was no way he was going to be able to split an arrow, but even he attempted to cluster the shots as close to that first one as he possibly could.
it wasn't until he was satisfied with the traditional arrows that he regarded those left for him by... well, connor hawke, he supposed, though as he looked over the choices (of which there were many), even he could feel the distaste there was to be found for the majority of the trick arrows. they all had gimmicks in some way, some trick meant to serve a particular purpose, and although they were useful, he was sure, in some situations, just as many were useless.
of course, he wouldn't know which were which until he tried them and as entertaining at firing cat arrows at people's doors was, that was all it was: entertainment.
grabbing one of the arrows with a cylindrical end, there was really no telling what it could do or how it would fly -- not until he docked it, hoisting his arms up and focusing on the target. it could explode for all he knew, whether that would be a flash or a frag or incendiary and set everything on fire; or it could do something else entirely, something weird and unheard of when it came to traditional arrow build. narrowing his eyes slightly, he drew back the string with enough pull to accomodate the less streamline build, letting it fly --
kaboom!
"oh shit!" connor yelled, dropping back onto his rear end as the target exploded, splintering apart the stand, arrows and the target itself, sending bits of wood and padding and multicolored paper into the air and onto the ground. bow resting next to him down, he stared wide-eyed for a moment before twisting his attention over to the box of arrows: "those..."
those were obviously grenades, connor glancing around the range to make sure that, just as he had arrived, he was still the only one there.
he really couldn't blame dinah for leaving even if connor had done his best to try and cheer her up, providing some optimism when everything looked bleak. oliver, no matter where they had checked over the last few days, was nowhere to be found and neither were mia, roy or sin, no telling where any of them could have been or whether or not they were together. he hoped they were, but as far as he knew, he really knew nothing.
connor supposed it was par for the course as he sat on the rooftop of the apartment belonging to his father, a sense of familiarity sweeping over him even as unfamiliar as it was. boston, after all, was where he had been. it was where connor hwang made his home. it was where they were, in a way, trapped and star city might as well have been off the map in that existence.
at least when it came to his enemies, connor could say he was happy about that. there was no constantine drakon to kill his friends and crucify his father - not that there was a father to cruicify with oliver queen missing). there was no onomatopoeia to sneak up on him and attempt to slice him apart with an axe or shoot him in the head when he was down for the count - even if that bullet had been meant for, again, a missing father. there was no brick with his impenetrable skin or edson hoon trying to get him to slay ancient dragons or even a stanley dover, intent on sacrificing mia. it was just boston and, as strange as it was on any given day, at least it was safe.
here?
connor didn't feel safe here, even with his skills and knowledge of the area, and especially not when he was without his team, his family, the people who cared for him. he rested his eyes down on the street below him where people walked around just as they would anywhere else - even when the ground seemed to sink even further down from his feet. he got up and stepped away as it did, sure it was some sort of vertigo kicking in, slipping back into the apartment by way of the rooftop window, feet falling silent compared to the drone of the television which was tuned to the news.
just not that belonging to star city, connor watching it curiously with a familiarity more attributed to his other half.
just as everything else, there was no answer for it and even less when it seemed to go further on the fritz, flickering as if part of a potential power outage, the sound dropping out and form seemingly disappearing entirely when he made a move to shut it off. just as people didn't disappear in thin air, transported to other places in time and space, neither did televisions.
connor supposed it was par for the course as he sat on the rooftop of the apartment belonging to his father, a sense of familiarity sweeping over him even as unfamiliar as it was. boston, after all, was where he had been. it was where connor hwang made his home. it was where they were, in a way, trapped and star city might as well have been off the map in that existence.
at least when it came to his enemies, connor could say he was happy about that. there was no constantine drakon to kill his friends and crucify his father - not that there was a father to cruicify with oliver queen missing). there was no onomatopoeia to sneak up on him and attempt to slice him apart with an axe or shoot him in the head when he was down for the count - even if that bullet had been meant for, again, a missing father. there was no brick with his impenetrable skin or edson hoon trying to get him to slay ancient dragons or even a stanley dover, intent on sacrificing mia. it was just boston and, as strange as it was on any given day, at least it was safe.
here?
connor didn't feel safe here, even with his skills and knowledge of the area, and especially not when he was without his team, his family, the people who cared for him. he rested his eyes down on the street below him where people walked around just as they would anywhere else - even when the ground seemed to sink even further down from his feet. he got up and stepped away as it did, sure it was some sort of vertigo kicking in, slipping back into the apartment by way of the rooftop window, feet falling silent compared to the drone of the television which was tuned to the news.
just not that belonging to star city, connor watching it curiously with a familiarity more attributed to his other half.
| that's... the channel five anchor. what is that doing playing here? |
just as everything else, there was no answer for it and even less when it seemed to go further on the fritz, flickering as if part of a potential power outage, the sound dropping out and form seemingly disappearing entirely when he made a move to shut it off. just as people didn't disappear in thin air, transported to other places in time and space, neither did televisions.
"you know..." sherwood forest wasn't exactly a forest anymore, connor and dinah looking out over the expansive space that once held lush green trees and woods thanks to the green lantern, now exploded for reasons connor couldn't bring to mind. already, the week so far had been confusing between being transplanted and the odd feeling that settled in once he had settled in to star city and now? now he wasn't so sure why he was even there.
"... this is just like him," connor practically sneered as he said it and though his expression fell short of that, there was no denying just how disappointed he actually was that they hadn't found oliver. "there's some trouble or destruction or -- whatever," connor explained, shaking his head before he climbed up one of the walls - whatever remained of it anyway - separating the nearby neighborhood from the forest, "and he's off doing god only knows what where god only knows."
he wasn't sure whether it was helping her or not, connor keen enough to pick up on her upset which, he'd say, was much deeper than his own. connor hadn't grown up with him. connor hadn't always seen him as his father let alone anything close to a father figure. perhaps he idolized him in the stories he had been told, but that didn't leave as deep of a connection as being around him and actually knowing him, something dinah had even in another form, would have.
"and it's very likely he's not even dead," connor pointed out as he sat on the top of the wall rather casually considering the destruction they were looking at and the fact that, no matter where they had checked, they couldn't find hide nor blonde hair of robin hood himself. "you know him," connor added, shaking his head, "he'll go missing just like that and come back out of the blue one day even if people think he's dead."
it was true, after all: oliver queen did have a knack for reappearing after dead and even connor wasn't without his moment, even if that one came from medical intervention more than simply intention disappearance and rumored demise. "wherever he is," he said, "if we don't find him, you know he's just going to end up finding us."
hopefully.
"... this is just like him," connor practically sneered as he said it and though his expression fell short of that, there was no denying just how disappointed he actually was that they hadn't found oliver. "there's some trouble or destruction or -- whatever," connor explained, shaking his head before he climbed up one of the walls - whatever remained of it anyway - separating the nearby neighborhood from the forest, "and he's off doing god only knows what where god only knows."
he wasn't sure whether it was helping her or not, connor keen enough to pick up on her upset which, he'd say, was much deeper than his own. connor hadn't grown up with him. connor hadn't always seen him as his father let alone anything close to a father figure. perhaps he idolized him in the stories he had been told, but that didn't leave as deep of a connection as being around him and actually knowing him, something dinah had even in another form, would have.
"and it's very likely he's not even dead," connor pointed out as he sat on the top of the wall rather casually considering the destruction they were looking at and the fact that, no matter where they had checked, they couldn't find hide nor blonde hair of robin hood himself. "you know him," connor added, shaking his head, "he'll go missing just like that and come back out of the blue one day even if people think he's dead."
it was true, after all: oliver queen did have a knack for reappearing after dead and even connor wasn't without his moment, even if that one came from medical intervention more than simply intention disappearance and rumored demise. "wherever he is," he said, "if we don't find him, you know he's just going to end up finding us."
hopefully.