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[color=darkred][b]Location:[/b][/color] Harbor 
[color=darkred][b]Interactions:[/b][/color] Metamorph
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[b]“Oh now the mission is aborted.”[/b] Quiver spat to himself after hearing Rain’s instructions over comms. It was irksome hearing that from Viktor. The same guy who gave anyone shit who made a different call during missions. Quiver hadn’t forgotten the man’s rigidity. What’s changed now? He looked over at Metamorph. Quiver attributed his mood to pure focus on the sudden shift in the environment. It quick had gone from one of stealth and quiet to a bullet hell free for all. He looked back at the carnage as violent criminals screamed out at each other, and giant sheet of ice erupted across the way from where He and Metamorph were camped. Iceburn’s powers dwarfed anything Quiver could contribute. Again he felt that familiar sting he thought he had shaken off in his new life as Will. Meanwhile the man he was partnered alongside with had the abilities of what Quiver assumed was the entire animal kingdom. A walking apex predator. What was it that Nightwing and Ollie had saw in Quiver to join a team like this? Everyone here had a quality that made them a kind of monster. 

What was Quiver’s monster? His past. All the violence.

Everyone else on this team was here to do good, but Quiver? He was the only one here that seemed to be on an atonement scholarship.  And that was strikingly clear every time the team was put into action. Beneath the metal crates they were crouched upon, two gangsters were running away from the scene. One was running full speed while the other fired their automatic weapon back into the chaos. The sour mood that was creeping back into Will’s head needed shaking. 

He pulled his collapsible bow out from it’s holster while simultaneously drawing an arrow. With absolute precision he released the bolt, an arrow with a metallic baton at the end of it. It cracked into one of the fleeing criminals square in the back. Before his target had even hit the pavement, Quiver was upon the second thug, the one with the automatic. His bow had the ability to collapse into a staff-like weapon, and he deftly swung it at a downward arc across the trigger happy gun-thug’s hands. The man screamed out in pain, firing off another round. Quiver grabbed the man’s trigger hand in his fist, seeing that the fingers were broken, already purpling over. The man screamed out in pain, unable to stop firing with his now rapidly swelling hand.

[b]“Quiet.”[/b] Quiver opened the man’s broken hand and the man cried out again. The young hero tossed the rifle up to where Metamorph remained. Over his shoulder, the first thug lay collapsed unconscious. So Will turned the one in his grasp away, pulling him into swift headlock. The mission itself had collapsed – though not through any fault of the team. But it could be salvaged. Quiver could find out more about this illegal trade. If he employed some of his previously retired skills. His interrogation skills from his time as a Talon in the court of owls….