#“you've taken these ordinary people and turned them into weapons” HELLO | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theblackpanther · 7 years ago

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Hello! I just discovered you and A Professional Observation a few days ago and I LOVE IT! You've got a loyal reader here. :) Can I ask questions 3 & 4 regarding A Professional Observation, please?

Hello Annie. Very happy to hear that! :) Do you happen to be also the Guest who left the review on ff.net on April 23?

Since A Professional Observation is one big author-service (written because 1. things I liked the most about “Arrow” disappeared from the show althogether 2. I couldn’t find fics that explore the tropes I wanted to read about), there is more than one example. Beware, this post is ridiculously long.

3. What’s your favorite line of narration?

“The rain was monotonously beating against the barred windows of the interrogation room. It was small almost to the point of being claustrophobic, heavily shadowed in the corners, but strongly lit in the centre from the ceiling lamps. Currently it was occupied by only one person — a handcuffed man in his early thirties, sitting by the table placed in the center. The bright light gave his costume an unnaturally vivid shade of green. His hood was pulled off his head, lying flat on his back, the mask gone altogether, probably locked up alongside his bow, quiver and other equipment in the evidence locker.”

(Maybe nothing special. But I’m not a native speaker, and those were first lines in English I put conciously after years and year of wanting to write in a foreign language—I think it works well as the opening and sets the tone of the story.).

“He was not mad. He would know if he was, wouldn’t he?”

“How he wished he was still a free man and could just run into the night. He always escaped into night from all he had. Or perhaps the night was all he had.If only he could feel the chill of wind on his face and breathe in rain-soaked air. Look at the city’s skyline from the top of the highest building, the hood down over his head and the reassuring weight of the bow in his hand… He didn’t need it to be efficient in what he was doing; he shaped himself to be the most dangerous weapon. But still he viewed his mastery of archery as something to be proud of.This was making it even more difficult to accept that the part of his life as a vigilante was over. And that he would never again hear the rustle of an arrow’s fletching being taken out of the quiver, when the feathers softly rubbed against each other, or bowstring’s ring when it was released. He loved being the Arrow, he couldn’t deny it. When he observed people from the rooftops, living their normal lives, he knew that it was something he would never have, but accepted it as the consequence of the path he had chosen. It had not only given him the sense of purpose in his once dull existence. It had also provided him with a shot of adrenaline he craved.”

(Some angst, also one of many Archery Is Awesome/Archery Placement scenes.)

“She wanted to break him down and pick through the darkest corners of his mind. Get inside his head and make him believe he was suffering from some psychological disorder. How could he regard her otherwise? Right now Doctor Pressnall, despite her ordinary look, seemed to be a much more dangerous foe than the Dark Archer and Deathstroke put together. They wanted to take everything from him, and in the end kill him. But what she intended to do was even worse. Deprive him of everything that gave meaning to his life and force him to live without it.”

“He raised his eyes slowly and observed Doctor Pressnall for a longer while as she indulged herself in reading some excerpt in his file. Studying her as he would study his quarry, trying to figure out what tactic would be best. Giving some thought to what he already knew about her, what he had learned during their conversation, and what he could make out of her appearance. If she looked at him at this moment, she would probably be greatly surprised that he was watching her like a hawk. Thoughts flashed through his mind one after another, piling up, building up a bigger, more complex picture out of little pieces. Unlike one of his fellow vigilantes, the Arrow was no detective. But still he was able to make some deductions on his own.”

(Ollie’s observations and Sherlock Holmes mode was fun to write. Before the show kind of forget about that, he was able to make some deduction/investigation on his own.)

“While people from City Hall were doing all in their power to lessen the Arrow’s influence on violent crime rates steadily declining, and ignore all the good he was doing, the “little guys” showed their appreciation in whatever way they could. True, there were no cool gadgets like Flash action figures one could buy in a gift shop, or The Flash coffee, but people found other ways to express their gratitude. There was a small tea room on Grell Street, run by an old lady, which was serving Green Arrow tea, which was basically a jasmine green tea with a fancy name. In some stalls one could buy a T-shirt or a green hoodie with an imprint of a hooded man with a bow. He looked more like Robin Hood or a comic book character in those pictures (Oliver had no idea why some artist drew him with a distinctive goatee), but still, there was no doubt that all of those were supposed to represent the local vigilante. Him.

Shortly after the Arrow saved the city from Deathstroke and his Mirakuru soldiers, some street artists painted a huge graffiti on a wall of one of buildings in Glades of the Arrow, watching over the city. Most of his face was covered by the shade of the hood. Someone from City Hall decided to paint it over, but once the people from Glades heard about it , they protested so vigorously that the plan was dropped almost instantly. The mural stayed in place.

Over the years the Arrow, become something more than only an elusive, shadowy figure. Sometimes someone managed to catch a glimpse of him. People were looking up on the roofs or peeking into dark alleys, knowing that those were his “favorite” places. Kids from Glades hoped that if they got lucky, they might find a stray arrow with characteristic green-and-yellowish fletching, or an arrowhead that police overlooked while they were securing the area and gathering the evidence. That part of the public interest was relatively harmless. Oliver was, however, getting more and more annoyed with people who wanted to take a photo of him or record a film on those rare occasions when he had to appear in open space, close to civilians. Not only because the police could use it as evidence against him later on. They put themselves into harm’s way—some were so reckless that they would walk into the middle of shootout just to get that precious photo of the Arrow.One of the most original and unexpected forms of tribute he was given was an unofficial archery contest.”

(At some point in the show people just mysteriously disappeared. The city no longer felt alive. I wanted to show what impact on the life of ordinary normal citizens the existence of vigilante hero would have and how he would fit into the city’s space.)

“Without Mom, Thea and Dad…Or even without Walter, who tried to replace his father in his life the best he could…It’s not the house anymore. He doesn’t care about his ancestors, no matter what they did, or what they achieved. They are just empty names. Probably put a lot of effort to raise themselves up over others. He wouldn’t have the means to finance his crusade without the money he inherited, but he prefers to not think of that. Because it would lead him to thinking that he is no better than other wealthy and well situated people using their position to do whatever they want. But to do what he does nowadays, having a plain English longbow and some wooden arrows wouldn’t be enough.

Damn, he really should go catch some sleep, since he’s comparing himself to Robin Hood now. He doesn’t like this association, because on some level he thinks that Robin Hood should belong to those romantic ballads and stories, where everything was so simple, painted in black and white colors. Robin and his merry men were the good guys, the Sheriff and his thugs the bad ones.

He doesn’t exactly remember when, but he learned that in Robin Hood’s time, the bow was not viewed as a noble weapon. It was associated with peasants, and what’s worse also with thieves and bandits, men who had no honor. No nobleman would touch such a thing. So maybe after all he had more in common with Robin Hood that he wanted to admit. He was no thief, but according to the law he was a bandit, and the fact that he used his skills to fight crime and injustice had no meaning to that law. “

(Robin Hood reference is must-be in “Arrow” story. Also way to slip in an information that in Robin Hood times a bow was not viewed as a noble weapon.)

“Viewed from the high rooftop, with its busy traffic on the main street arteries, Starling looks like every other city aspiring to be a modern metropolis. Long torrents of cars, with gleaming yellow and red lights, from this height small like toys, are streaming in all directions. And for a change it is not even raining today. From this vantage point all dark corners of the city and its poor, badly reputed districts are invisible, hidden in shade of skyscrapers, towering over the whole surrounding area.

Once it was one of the busiest docks on the West Coast. But the last of them were closed in the late nineties, and over the years the former wharfs were redeveloped and turned into a business district. Now it is full of office buildings, as impressive as constructions of metal, glass and concrete can be, and although the revitalization of the area is not a bad thing, on some level Oliver hates those skyscrapers; their only purpose seems to be raising themselves above others. Modern, elegant yachts are moored next to them in newly constructed marinas. The port itself introduced some major changes as well. New quays were constructed in the north part, and all the wet docks were deepened in order to handle vessels with bigger displacement. Only recently four gentry cranes were put into service in the container terminal, though there are still a lot of people who can’t find their place after the last big shipyard was closed down. Oliver poured a lot of money into a program which was supposed to help them retrain and get a new job, but it didn’t work as well as he planned.

So, to put it shortly, Starling pretends quite well to be something more. Something other than what it truly is. However, on a global scale, it means nothing. Just like him.”

“Usually when someone wants him somewhere it means that they want to kill him. Oliver comes well before the time and circles around, checking the surrounding. There is no sign of any trap though. Not many possible hiding places in the area as well, since this part of the port is remarkable mostly for its emptiness. South Pier is just a long strip of metal and concrete stretching out into the Starling Bay. A long time ago it served as the mooring place for a local cruise company. It used to have a number of connections with other port cities of the West Coast, including a ferry going to Coast City two times a day. Unfortunately the company bankrupted years ago. Although a revitalization process of the unused port area has been gradually put into motion, and over time South Pier became an official part of Harbour Green Park, none of the plans to somehow restore it have been so far successful. The sole remnant of its historical significance is an rusty archway, which used to serve as the entrance to the pier. Original shipyard lettering—"White Star Line" is still clearly readable.

Looking up at the company’s name, Oliver briefly remembers the trip to Coast his parents took him and Tommy on when they were both nine or ten years old. Sunny day, gusts of oceanic wind, a huge white ship and both of them ferreting about the deck, getting in every hole—especially if the entrance was prohibited to the passengers. On their return journey they were allowed to the helm though (nobody refuses Robert Queen). During the whole trip his parents looked genuinely happy together. He even saw them holding hands when they stood by the ship’s side, talking about something softly. Much later he was wondering bitterly if at that time his mother was already sleeping with Malcolm. And if his father was cheating on her with his secretary. After all, Isabel Rochev was not the first woman he had an affair with—he knew that there were others “lapses” in his life, much earlier.

Now all of this seems to have a spectral place in his memories. His parents and Tommy are gone forever, and that ship (he still remembers the name written with golden lettering—"Olympic") was scrapped shortly after the company ceased to exist. That archway and few bleak, distant images in his mind, like a bunch of old photographs, are the only proofs that it ever happened. If he dies tonight—and he can’t exclude that possibility—the only link with that past event will disappear for good, as well as those little parts of his parents and Tommy which are still alive in him.”

“He eventually finds himself around the bay. But instead going to the embankment near Harbour Green Park, he heads to the port, specifically to the part that hasn’t been revitalized yet. And maybe never will. An old abandoned power plant looms in the distance, its striped white and red chimney rising high. He passes a terminal container and enters an area that is a pathetic sight. He goes along a narrow street with cracked asphalt, passing long chains of railway wagons standing on the sidings on his left. On the other side, empty warehouses with broken windows and dirty, shabby-looking walls are towering over him.

He takes a short-cut through the closed ship assembly plant. A half-finished hull, lying under a gantry crane, reminds him of the skeleton of some deep-sea creature, dragged onto the bank. He goes through a large gap in the fence and finds himself under a brick wall of the abandoned power plant. He enters the building through a side entrance—it is one of his alternate hideouts. He is pretty sure that even Amanda Waller doesn’t know about the existence of this one, nor does his former team. Here he keeps some backup gear, even a spare motorcycle. But today he hasn’t come to grab some equipment, but to leave the backpack with the things he took from the foundry.”

(Finally, many descriptions of the city, which is a character on its own. Starling is full of contrasts, modern districts and neglected Glades, revitalized area contrasted with the abandoned places. Also many references to existing places/cities.)

4. What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

“I’m not crazy,” he said through clenched teeth. “So stop talking to me as if I’m one of your patients, living under some delusion and unable to tell lies from reality” An edge of threatening tone crept into his cold voice. It was the Hood speaking all over again. He regretted it almost immediately, seeing anxiety mirrored in the psychiatrist’s eyes. After all, he didn’t want to scare this woman.

“I’m not crazy,” he repeated, his tone much more level. “And contrary to what you might think, I don’t consider myself to be Robin Hood.”

“Then why do you wear this green hood? Why did you choose a bow and arrow?” she pressed on. “Does it have something to do with the island you were marooned on for five years? What exactly happened to you out there?”

(Oliver finally decides to speak with Doctor Pressnall.)

“I’m afraid you’re not in a position to judge anyone, given your own criminal record and how many victims you have on your conscience…I’m sorry for the harsh words, Oliver, but someone has to break it to you. Especially because you act as though you don’t realize how serious the charges against you are.”

He glared at her and retorted: “I’m handcuffed to the table. I get it.”

(One of many exchanges between them.)

“No man is a lonely island, Oliver, if you’ll forgive me bringing up this quote.”

(Putting references to island is always fun, second on the list after Robin Hood references—well, maybe it’s not fun for Oliver, given the situation…)

“That came addressed to you,“ says the Captain, handing the archer an envelope and glancing at him suspiciously. "You don’t seem to be surprised. Don’t say that now I’m your P.O. Box when someone wants to send you feedback or fan mail.”

“ This is not fan mail,” says Oliver grimly.

“ Queen. Oliver. Don’t turn your back on me like that,” says Lance suddenly. There is a hard edge in his voice. It stops the Arrow in place.

“ It was always so obvious, wasn’t it?”, he asks calmly, not shaken by this revelation at all.

“ You don’t seem surprised that I know,” observes the Captain.

“ You are too good a detective to not figure it out. You did a good job pretending that you don’t know.”

“ Yeah, the same goes to you. Keeping up appearances that you were not aware that I know,” sums up Lance. “Now, since it’s clear where we stand with each other and who knows what…”

“ I’ve never thanked you for what have you been doing for this city,” says Lance. His face bears a sour expression.

“ You never had to. I don’t do this for a thank-you.”

(Scenes with Lance and Oliver/the Arrow are my favorite, so of course one of the most imporant part of the story is Quentin’s and the Arrow’s cooperation—for me it was obvious that he had known for a long time who is hiding under the hood, he just didn’t care. Also, reference to Nolan’s Batman, exchange between Gordon and Batman from Batman Begins.)

“ I… I’ll call the cops!” Leeds makes another empty threat.

“ Go ahead,” says Oliver with a mocking tone. “How fast do you think Captain Lance will send his men here after you had proposed to cut down his retirement?”

“ He should be fired from the force for working with you!”

(Who said that Oliver doesn’t have a sense of humor? :p Also reference to Kevin Smith’s Quiver.)

“Sometimes I wonder…” he pauses. Barry is looking at him expectantly, so he swallows hard and goes on: “…how long I’ll be able to carry on. I chose this life. I became a vigilante, I use the night. But sooner or later I’ll go down. It might be the Dark Archer, or Deathstroke, or just some punk who gets lucky. Or perhaps some overzealous cop who’ll shoot me down. And when this moment comes, my last thought will be probably whether I made any difference.”

“ Oliver, the city would fall apart without you.”

“ Maybe. Maybe not. You know what they say… When you look too long into the abyss, the abyss looks back through you. And the longer I look on my city from up here…the less sense in all of this I see.”

“ You know what I think? That you are talking complete rubbish.”

“ That is really reassuring of you to say.”

(Some angst and moment between superfriends—as Barry’s and Oliver’s friendship is another of my favorite parts of the Arrowverse. Also Batman TAS referenced, “I Am The Night” to be precise.)

“He mastered to perfection keeping two halves of his life separate. And he convinced himself that he did this to keep her out of the harm’s way. It was easier to justify not being honest with her that way. It’s quite easy to understand what he was thinking. However, some other things about him are far more intriguing. How did he choose his targets? How did he decide whom to spare, and who deserves the most severe punishment in his book? Did he take pleasure in killing? Or was simply having total control over the situation, something he was deprived of on the island, enough to satisfy him? Those are few of many questions I would like to get an answer for. Maybe by understanding how his mind works, we can understand other people like him. And see the bigger picture.”

(Doctor Pressnall gives her observation.)

“I used to hate him and everything he represented. There was a time I would have sold my badge to nail him,” admitted Lance sincerely. “But… that’s changed. In city like Starling normal methods just… fail. And if we had realized that earlier, maybe we could have avoided tragedy… (…) The lines are getting thinner, the longer I’m in this line of work,” he explained, his tone sounding weary. “I used to think that you don’t need to step outside of the law to get justice. Starling taught me otherwise. And right now all I know is that—no matter how absurd it sounds—a hooded guy with a bow is…was the only one who stood between us and other masks running around the city. And this city is hurting. There were guys like Merlyn, or Wilson, or Brick who wanted to tear it apart. Bertinelli, Triad, Bratva, Los Halcones, Church… The never ending list. Cut off one head, two new take its place… But right now we are about to put away the only guy who could do something about it .”

(This fragment is not yet published, as it’s from chapter 19. Quentin’s thoughts on the Arrow.)

I’ve said it will be long…

#ask me anything #a professional observation #arrow fic #meme #fanfiction #oliver queen #doctor pressnal #quentin lance #angst

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