1893/An Arrow to the Heart of the Matter

An Arrow to the Heart of the Matter
Date of Scene:	08 August 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Green Arrow, 1002

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Green Arrow has posed:
    It is not the place one would imagine to find the CEO of Queen Industries. The tabloids of late with their claims of, 'New Technology from the Crown Prince of Canada, Oliver Queen, to be Released Within Days!' has been evident throughout the city, in Canada, and therefore the world. One could see him staying in the penthouse he has at the Ritz Carlton, or perhaps the mansion that's on the edge of the city.
    But someone who knew him fairly well might realize that during a time so portentous, he might take refuge here in this old slim townhouse in the gentrified downtown district of Star City. It's not like the training facilities that he owns, not high tech nor fancy. It's just a length of a rather thin length of yard that reaches back to the alleyway, and at one end of that yard is a simple beat up old hay-stuffed target that has a handful of arrows already sticking out of it.
    Standing at the other end of the yard is Oliver Queen, wearing a Star City Bulldogs t-shirt and a pair of old worn blue jeans. His period accurate longbow is in his hands, an arrow nocked as he takes aim. One eye scrunches up as he keeps that aim, holding that stance for a long time... longer... a little longer. And then when his arms begin to quiver that's when he lets loose with the shot. Another bullseye, or rather just a centimeter above the last bullseye arrow. Splitting your arrow shafts with another arrow is wasteful after all, those things cost money.

Connor Hawke (1002) has posed:
Connor has been on walkabout. He came, he left... and then he came back. He traded the monk's robe out for an ordinary t-shirt and blue jeans, sandals, and he's let his hair grow out; it's thick and yellow and the exact same color as his father's, striking in contrast to his skin. He approaches, entering the backyard, before he says, his voice as curious as it is announcing his presence, "...Ollie?" He's still not in the habit of calling him 'Dad'.

He watches, quietly, the thoughtless motion of Ollie using the bow, how he connects intent to motion to action so purely. "I have never been able to shoot like that," He admits.

Green Arrow has posed:
    "Connor!" The blonde man with the van dyke gets that easy smile of his as he steps towards the young man. The bow is set down carefully to the side to lean against the fence as he walks towards the young man, arms out and held wide. "Bring it in." And if he accepts it he'll give his son a big masculine hug with his fist lightly pounding his back three times, no more, no less. Per the guy code.
    And if allowed he'll put his hands upon Connor's shoulders as he takes a step back to look at him, "Looking good. nice shoes." He turns away and starts to walk towards the back door, his footsteps light as his bare feet make barely a sound while he moves. He advances upon the back porch, taking the steps slowly but two at a time as he climbs up and tosses him a nod, "You thirsty? Want something to drink?"
    He'll stop as he reaches the door and pulls it open for him.

Connor Hawke (1002) has posed:
"Some water would be nice. Iced tea if you have it. Unsweetened, please." Connor doesn't do extra sugar. He returns Ollie's manly embrace with a warm hug, because nobody educated Connor on bro codes. Then he says, "Oh. Well, you know how it is. Comfort. These were affordable, too!" He follows behind Ollie, his own pace leisurely, with the surety of someone who knows that sooner or later you'll get there.

"So. I just wanted to tell you, I'm going to be keeping a place in New York for a bit. I wanted to -- experience the big city. And I found a really great roommate, and his girlfriend; he's an artist. And I barely take up any room at all, so..." He smirks. "Actually, he's a Green Lantern."

Green Arrow has posed:
    "A Green Lantern? Hah. Fitting." Ollie waits for him to step through the door and then lets the screen door clang shut behind him. He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he stops in the kitchen and gives a look around. He chews on the corner of his mouth thoughtfully as he moves around that kitchen as if it had been some time since he'd navigated its nooks and crannies. Which it has.
    "But that's good to hear, New York is a decent place. Except for, you know, the whole stock market scumbags and all that." He reaches up and opens a cabinet, finds nothing, closes it. "But what's his name? Maybe I know him? I mean... how many Green Lanterns are there assigned to our sector of space?"
    He'll pause for a moment to perhaps await an answer from Connor, but then proceeds to pull open a few more cabinets in his search.

Connor Hawke (1002) has posed:
"Oh." Connor says. He rubs the back of his neck. "Kyle. Kyle Rayner. He's kind of... I guess a prospect? He's off planet sometimes but never for long." Then he tilts his head and says "It's okay, Ollie, I'll drink water!" He holds up his hands. "And honestly I don't know. I'm just trying something new, is all." Then he finds a place to sit on the edge of a counter, though it's more like a perch.

"Honestly..." He bites the corner of his mouth in a way uncharacteristically reminiscient of Ollie, "The whole billionaire lifestyle really isn't for me. The mansion, the cars... it's all too MUCH."

Green Arrow has posed:
    "Yeah," Oliver pauses for a moment as he looks over the place, his expression distanced for a moment. "I get what you mean." After all he's there in that old apartment for a reason, perhaps to get away from all the trappings and the madness of the big money. But then he looks at him, "But it's all for the good, Connor." He gives the young man another pat on the shoulder as he passes him, moving to another group of cupboards. "And hey, pretty soon you'll be able to go back and forth from one coast to the other in almost no time. So we'll still see each other. I mean, if you want."
    Another cupboard surrenders its secrets to him and he holds it open. "Ah hah!" He leans in and pulls out an old box of unsweetened tea... mix? Is that right? He looks at the box and then frowns, "Oh hm, this expired a few years ago. Water it is."
    He does step around and grab one of the old glasses, stepping over to run it under the tap, grabbing a wash rag that looks the least beastly and wiping it down. Once that's done he grabs some ice from the fridge and tosses it in with a clink of glass. More water is poured into it and then that is extended to him. "But what are you looking to do? Go to school there? I can put in a good word with... wherever it is you want to go."

Connor Hawke (1002) has posed:
"I don't think it is." Connor admits. "Wealth is an illusion," He says, tapping his chin, "And rattling around that big old house doesn't make you happy. The people who'd expect that sort of thing aren't really the sort of people you'd want to associate with anyway..." he takes thw glass, and lets the ice cubes clink back and forth for a moment, clasping it in both hands.

"I don't know. I haven't really thought about it. Working for Queen International doesn't really hold any..." he cants his eyes down, "Appeal to me. Besides, if I got a job because you're my father, that would be nepotism, and I wouldn't really have earned anything, right? I kind of just want to... live, you know? Just experience *life* for awhile. I could probably find a job teaching martial arts to kids? I can do a little handyman work..."

Green Arrow has posed:
    "I was thinking if you wanted to go to school I could see about helping you get admitted. But sure those other things would work too." Oliver leans back against the counter, his hands upon the edge of it as he slouches a bit. "But you know that other stuff I mainly have because I'm supposed to have it. Keeping up appearances and all that crap. I only do it so I can affect change from within."
    There's a moment where he looks askance, then he says. "I wish I could ramble at you more about what we have going on, but if everything goes right, then there'll be more jobs for people, and a better life in general. More than I could ever hope to do by jumping around in my underwear and shooting arrows at people." But then his smile shifts a touch wry, "Not that there's anything wrong with that."

Connor Hawke (1002) has posed:
Connor tilts his head at Ollie, and says, "That's all they are, Ollie! Appearances." He snorts. "I can tell how much you hate it, how you feel like a hypocrite. So why would you torture yourself?" he shakes his head and says "I just don't understand it I suppose." But then again... he was a monk for most of his life. "You'd be much happier living above a flower shop with --" He coughs, clearing his throat. "Sorry."

"I don't really know what I'd want to do, Ollie. I'm content with what I have, with who I am. I have my health and a world to travel and--and a father. Asking for anything more than that would just be vanity and greed." His shoulders shift, easily, as he relaxes into the counter. "So I read an op-ed in the paper that called you a bargain-bin Batman."

Green Arrow has posed:
    That gets the man to frown slightly, his brow furrowing as he looks askance, "Yeah, maybe." That's all the concession he gives, but then he looks back over at Connor and smiles a bit, "I know they're appearances, and you know it. But not everyone else, and for a guy to sometimes have a say in the big rooms filled with rich white guys he's gotta have the freaking key ring with the skull and bones, the Porsche, the Rolls, and the yacht all ready at hand."
    A breath is taken as he shakes his head, "And hey, Batman started after me." He points at his son, but then shakes his head. "But in any case. If it's the 'burden', and listen to me referring to a freaking mansion as a burden, but if it's my burden to carry this imagery around so I can get that say and make things better for people..." He draws in a breath, then says. "Then hell, Connor. There are worse crosses to die on."
    That having been said he crinkles his nose and tosses a nod at him, "Awww shaddap and drink your water." But the smile he adds after that might steal any sting away from those words.

Connor Hawke (1002) has posed:
Connor studies Ollie over his glass of water, and says, "But it's not me." He admits. "It's nice to visit, I guess, but I wouldn't want to live that way." He still has more than a hint of that Cali boy in his voice, fresh off the beach. All ideals and visions of free living without the usual strings and obligations and imaginary duties.

"I think Batman's kind of a fascist." Connor says. "I mean... have you seen his pupils? Talk about tightly wound. His philosophy of martial-arts instruction's just..." He sips his water, "Trash."

Green Arrow has posed:
    "Yeah, he's kinda." Oliver agrees with that at least, but then he looks over at Connor and smiles a bit, "To be fair though, at least he /can/ teach. Me. Last time I tried to give someone pointers they threw it back in my face." He looks down a little, thoughts drifting as he brings up the memory. Then he looks at Connor and grins a little, "Not you, this... nevermind."
    He steps away from that counter and makes the mistake of looking into the refrigerator. He crinkles his nose as the door opens, then grimaces and closes it quickly, waving a hand to try and clear the stink from the air. "And I'm not expecting you to live that way Connor, but there's no harm in letting me help you reach a point of equilibrium."

Connor Hawke (1002) has posed:
"If you're talking about Roy," Connor says, "He looks up to you more than he lets on. There's a lot of hurt between the two of you," He says, pushing himself up off the counter, and says, "But he still loves you. He just doesn't know how to say it." He tilts his head at the fridge.

"You know, mom was telling me the same thing. I told her I was moving to New York and she went on and on about some apartment building she owns there and how she needs someone to take care of it and make sure the rent gets collected and how she doesn't trust these chiseling management companies and..." He snorts. Connor doesn't really get along with his mom. It's written all over his face. It's the weak point in his temper.