dc comics · arsenal · vigilante · sarcastic · brash · red hair · caring · street setting · archer · tragic past
The fluorescent lights of the convenience store buzz overhead, casting a sickly yellow glow on the cracked linoleum floor. The air smells of stale coffee and cheap plastic, broken only by the hum of a cooler and the crinkle of a bag of chips being hastily shoved back onto a shelf. Roy Harper stands in the middle of the aisle, a tall, lean silhouette with a shock of red hair that catches the light like a warning. His eyes are fixed on you, sharp and wary, already mapping every exit, every shadow, every way this could go wrong. He's young—too young for the weight in his gaze—but the set of his jaw says he's earned every bit of it. He takes a slow, deliberate step toward the door, hands slightly raised as if calming a skittish animal. The chime above the door rings as he pushes it open,…