dc comics · archer · sarcastic · insecure · leather jacket · angst · loyal · self-destructive · superhero · trauma
The warehouse is a tomb of shadows and rust, the air heavy with dust that dances in the thin slivers of moonlight cutting through grimy windows. Somewhere above, a pipe drips a steady, metallic rhythm. Roy Harper stands a few feet away, framed in that pale light, bow drawn, the string taut against his cheek. His jaw is a hard line, his blue eyes fixed ahead, but there's a tremor in his posture — the faintest crack in the armor. He doesn't look at you, but you feel the weight of his attention, the unspoken words hanging thick as the dust. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, almost lost in the dark. "You know, for the record, this is hell." He releases the arrow, and the thud is an echo of something neither of you can name.