Below are the 6 most recent journal entries recorded in thehyperion's InsaneJournal:

Tuesday, August 11th, 2015
12:28 pm [unrecognizable]	Turns out I have complicated feelings for a monster ( I would have found you ) (Comment on this)
7:19 am [lousyshot]	( love comes slow but it goes so fast ) (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, November 25th, 2014
9:56 am [ex_sagitta476]	The foundry; a place where most his nights were spent, the source of Oliver’s self imposed isolation. No windows; no light that isn’t artificial. There was something cold about it; the kind that had nothing to do with temperature, it slipped inside of you, tendrils coiling around your soul, with an iciness that couldn’t be thawed. Or was that a reflection of how his life had been playing out? A fleeting moment of happiness; when the citizens of Starling City had begun to look at the ‘Arrow’ as a hero, a beacon for humanity, and the foolish thought had crept into his mind that maybe he could finally have it both ways. A perfect balance between life as Oliver Queen and how he spent his nights. The lesson had been swift and brutal; whenever his focus was taken off what needed to be done, when defenses dropped and the present was lived for, other people paid the price. As if some all knowing being was always waiting at every chance to serve up a bitter reminder that he didn’t belong to himself; not now, and maybe not ever. The things he wanted; the things that he cared about and loved, they were always going to have to be kept at a distant second place…never getting the attention they deserved, or the parts of him that he wanted to give. To be alone was the only way to reconcile his heart with such a concept. The pain he suffered could be bearable as long as it meant no one else was subjected to much the same. Some people would call that a noble pursuit; to Oliver, more often than not, it felt like living within a cage of fear. Being the architect of your own destruction. Wanting, and needing, those simple connections, and trying to deny them at every turn. Everyone that his team consisted of had left hours ago; Diggle had a daughter to raise, a wife to come home to...and Roy, as much as he had struggled in the past, was really beginning to grow into the role that had been picked out for him. No longer just a kid; that was Oliver’s partner, someone that could be trusted to do what was right, to have his back. A level of trust that was exceedingly difficult to be given...after everything that had happened on the island, and all of the recent losses. And then there was Felicity. His teeth grit; hands clenched into fists, a spike of adrenaline and rage. No. Thoughts that could not and would not be entertained. A slow, forced breath, out through his nose. The source of his despair; or did it go further than that? Had how things played out with her simply been the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back? The love he felt had been built up over two years; and somehow influenced by Sara’s words...he needed to find someone that could harness the light that still resided within him. The simple answer had been the blonde IT specialist; who could disarm him with a smile and a series of fragmented sentences. If honesty was considered, and Oliver opened himself up to old wounds that had already scarred over, it had started long before then. A past littered with the beautiful faces of women that he had let down; in one way or another. Without realizing it, Oliver had already begun to pace, long strides, still clad in the green leather from earlier. Was this what was left for him? Would his body be laid out on the table the same way that Sara’s had? Drained of life; taken out by someone that finally got the better of him one night. He didn’t want to die; he didn’t want to live in cave...he just wanted to live. Clack. Clack. Clack. A familiar sound; steady and almost rhythmic, the source of it didn’t register immediately. Hair pricked up on the back of his neck; even if his brain hadn’t come to a final conclusion, somehow his heart already knew. Boots. Each step deliberate, moving down that stairs that led into his underground base, something instinctively female to the movements. Oliver could feel his mouth becoming dry; throat tightening, all over the course of a second, though it felt as if time had found a different way to pass, stretching out, when the single beat of a heart could last a minute. His eyes had already found the entrance; waiting, a growing sense of anticipation, though he was completely glued to the spot. His mind could have sent screaming messages at his legs to move and there would have been no response. He swallowed thickly; fingers flexing...why? Why this reaction? Laurel and Felicity both knew his secret; they both knew where to find him, and yet...he somehow already came to the conclusion that it couldn’t be them. Clack. Clack. Her lower half had come into view; and as she descended further, her identity was revealed. Helena Bertinelli. Another surge of adrenaline; it made his body come alive, electricity dancing across his skin, a tidal wave crashing against everything he was, the intensity of it was something that he almost couldn’t stand. The image of tragic beauty; dark strands of hair framing her face, eyes that could express so much within a gaze...anger, hatred, love, desire, and a plethora of others. Someone that had been forced to endure; who learned the same callous lessons that he had. Revenge never brought redemption or relief. He had seen it in her; sitting across from Helena in the interrogation room, how the facade of the huntress had faded away, and the woman he had fallen in love with came back to the surface. How much she had ached; the revelation that the end of her father’s life did nothing to ease how broken her heart was. It hadn’t changed things; not the way she anticipated. She had been...utterly alone. And all he had wanted was to take it away from her. To assure her, that in spite of what had happened between them, he would never leave her. Why was she here? Had she escaped in the pursuit of her vendetta? Maybe she was there to end both of them; a final act of vengeance, claiming the man who had started her on this path, to unite them forever in a way that neither of them had planned for. Or...maybe she knew that behind those prison walls, she could never make a difference. His restraint was wavering. Could he just come rushing up to her? No one was going to understand him the way that Helena did. She had the felt the same hatred burning inside; she knew what it was to tow that line, and she knew what it was to cross him. His pain was something that she could relate to in a sense that...no one else was going to understand. “Helena,” he could only manage to get her name out. Three syllables….three syllables that carried so much. How her name could mean a million different things when it came from his lips. What are you doing here? I missed you Don’t leave me. The sight of her overwhelmed him and struck him still. When she was gone, out of the picture, Oliver could bury all of it down in some secret place inside his heart. A compartment that didn’t need to be checked. But when she was in his stratosphere? He felt like it was all crumbling down. A burst of emotions. A love, touched by bitterness, that seized him. There was no defense against that. (10 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, October 12th, 2014
5:25 am [ex_sagitta476]	Months had passed; the damage and destruction was still fresh, a sense of loss hung in the air that was palpable, a living breathing entity...one second in the Glades and it was almost suffocating. An earthquake device under the control of Malcolm Merlyn had leveled the area. Five hundred and three people lost their lives; thousands more had been injured, and entire city blocks had been turned into nothing more than rubble and memories. All of it served as a reminder of his failure; the crusade he had been on to right the wrongs of his father, to save the city, it had been a pipe dream and nothing more. A fool’s quest. Oliver’s best friend had paid the price; along with countless others. Darkness had spread through Starling City; a hopeless that infected all of the citizens as fast as any biological pathogen. Overwhelming didn’t begin to describe his sense of guilt. This was a man who operated in the mindset of kill or be killed; who didn’t flinch when the stakes were at their highest…and he had fled. Back to Lian Yu; the island that had left twenty percent of his body covered with scar tissue. To make sense of it; to find clarity...or just to be alone. The place that had shaped the person that he was now; being halfway across the world didn’t provide an escape from his problems. They weighed on him; crept into his mind no matter what activity he was engaged in, haunted his dreams. Everything ‘The Hood’ had stood for fell short; a vigilante wasn’t what was needed to solve this, but a hero was the last thing he believed he could ever be. A hero didn’t fall short in the end; they arrived on time, they stopped suffering...things that he hadn’t been able to do. Diggle and Felicity had convinced him to come back; reasoning to his sense of responsibility, that his family and the company needed him. The time away, how many different scenarios had played out within his mind, and things were still worse than he could have anticipated. People were going missing; whispers about monsters….bodies found with bite marks. Disaster could bring out the best in people; they would band together, join in a sense of community, and try to rebuild. It also brought out the worst; predators could see the opportunities that presented themselves, and they took advantage without mercy or hesitation. Was there anything more powerful in the world than fear? When everyone was already teetering on the edge and there was nothing to anchor them...that was when they were the most willing to give into those emotions. Oliver had been adamant that he wouldn’t put the dark green leathers on again; he had tried to make a difference and had been found wanting. All it had taken was a day; a single day of driving through the worst parts and he understood that inaction wasn’t an option. Standing idly by while his city slowly died; the guilt from that would have destroyed all that was left of him. To say that he made a choice would imply that there had been another way; in his mind, one didn’t exist. The path was clear now. Whether his convictions or methodology had changed was completely irrelevant; it was now or never. Despite the reserves of willpower and self control Oliver had built up from the crucible he had been forced to endure; it hadn’t changed the simple truth about himself. Deep down, he was still a ‘close your eyes and jump’ kind of person. All in or nothing at all. The sun had set over an hour ago; white pin points of stars littered the night sky, the most prominent illumination being provided by the full moon that had always provided a slightly eerie feeling. It was the first sighting of Starling City’s vigilante in months; his ‘patrol’ had barely begun and rumors were already flooding the streets. The looters; petty street gangs, those were the easy things to deal with. Arrows met their target; his accuracy was almost superhuman, and not a single one had been fired with lethality in mind. They scattered; like cockroaches when the light was shone on them...but they were only a symptom of the disease, and for every single one that was put out of commission, there would be someone else to take the now unfilled role. His concern lay with whoever was creating the body count; it seemed to grow every night, without any indication that it was going to stop. The quadrant of the Glades that Oliver had ventured towards was the formerly industrialized area; buildings that had been abandoned long before the quake hit, when jobs had dried up and relocation was inevitable. Busted street lights. This was the part where only the brave or the desperate dared to venture; and both of those groups were the favored prey. In the distance, he could hear a scream...distinctly female, and there was no faking the shrill terror that had been expressed in it. Gravel crunched underneath his boots as he took off in a dead sprint; adrenaline spiked in his system, proving extra speed to his already long strides. Complete tunnel vision; he was attuned to where the sound had came from, nothing else mattered, that kind of hyper focus was something that you could only learn in trial by fire. Banking hard to the left, Oliver cut through an alley, his lungs burned, but the pain was something that he had learned to ignore. A second later and he was out in the open; the woman, whom he assumed had been the one in panic, almost crashed into him as she fled in the opposite direction. The reason why became apparent as he glanced towards the docks; there was a fight happening, from the distance and angle he was currently at, the details were almost impossible to make out. His grip on the bow tightened; instincts took over, more than thought, those split seconds decisions...he charged forward, unrelenting. A promise had been made; standing in front of Tommy Merlyn’s gravestone, that never again would he be too late. Only when the distance was closed did something happen beyond his comprehension. Where a man, the aggressor, had been standing only a split second before, turned into nothing more than explosion of dust. Oliver had only seen it from behind; he hadn’t witnessed the creature’s deformed face, fangs, or yellow eyes. The end result had still been unnatural; he had seen things on the island that defied convention or reason. Now in front of him was a blonde woman; attractive, young, a wooden stake gripped in one hand. With surprising quickness, he reached back to draw an arrow from his quiver and notched it on the bow, aiming it towards her heart. “Drop the weapon,” he growled out in a distorted voice. Part of him realized that this woman was the reason another person hadn’t died. But he didn’t have an explanation for...that man exploding. “Now.” Was she a murderer? She couldn’t be...and who was he to judge? He had killed in the name of justice. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, October 5th, 2014
4:38 pm [beasthood]	The siege was over; a culmination of events that had ended with bodies littering the grounds of Stonehaven. Losses from both sides. Brothers gone forever; Pete and Antonio, casualties of this mutt uprising, paying the ultimate price for the pack’s lack of being prepared. Too steep...the cost, but there was no changing what had already happened. Now was the time for clean up; a moment could finally be spared to catch your breath, when the dusts of tragedy began to settle, and grief came washing over. Everyone had their own process; their own way of coming to terms, of accepting the pain before it became unbearable. Communication wasn’t his; despite several tenures as a professor of anthropology, Clayton Danvers found nothing cathartic about talking. Animals expressed themselves in different ways; and there was no mistake to be had, the man who had once been a little boy, bitten at the early age of seven, was more wolf than anything else. His way of thinking; his way of acting...something primal and bestial existed within it. When wolves bonded it was because of survival; that sense of loyalty, dedication, people would never be able to understand it. They couldn’t grasp the depth at which that emotion could endure. The relationship, it was never more intense than when it occurred between mates; a connection that seared itself into you, claiming parts that you couldn’t have known were there until you felt it. A mate for life; a mate for your soul. Explanations didn’t exist for that kind of link. When they wept, it shattered your heart into fragments so small, you wondered how could it possibly be put back together. And when they smiled, you could feel the light, as if it was a palpable force, and more than anything you wished you could bathe in those golden rays for eternity. Elena represented all of those things to him; but even that, it couldn’t possibly do justice to this…thing within him that she had created by giving her love. It made him better; it consumed him, with a ferocity that would have struck fear into anyone else. You couldn’t shut off something like that. It was...a living, breathing, entity that could bend even the strongest to it’s will. Now she was suffering; and he could feel her heartache as if it were his own. Clayton didn’t mourn her boyfriend; the person she had known in Toronto, who’s severed head had been left as the most grotesque message that could be sent. If anything, he regretted the trauma that had been caused by it, and the extinguishing of a life in general. He wasn’t without sympathies; if there had been anything he could have done to save Phillip, he would have. For her For her happiness...for the life that she had always wanted, the sense of normalcy that she longed for. He couldn’t, and wouldn’t, pretend that he had ever felt anything positive towards the now deceased man. She was the love of Clay’s life; first and last, there would never be another...the place that Elena had taken, the role, it couldn’t have been filled by anyone else. His love started and stopped with her; there wasn’t an ounce left that she didn’t own. The truth of what they were, and what she meant, it was completely unshakeable. Everything else about him could be stripped away; Santos and Leblanc could have tortured him further, peeled away his flesh, cut into him until there was just...nothing left, and they still wouldn’t have been able to touch that truth. Long after his extended lifespan came to an end, when his name was scribbled down in the book of records they kept in the basement, when future members of the pack spoke about Clayton Danvers, it wouldn’t be to remember him as the enforcer. Or as a loyal son. The first words to pass through any of their lips would be that he had loved Elena Michaels. The past few months had been a crucible for everyone involved; the deaths, the emotional rollercoaster, having to always be on guard...still, it hadn’t been the hardest thing he had ever been forced to endure. Did that somehow make him disloyal? The pack came first; always and forever, a lesson he understood and believed in, but it didn’t compare to the hell that had been undergone before. Those months after he had first been bitten; the camping trip with his family, coming across the wolf...a child, left alone in the woods after he couldn’t be found, becoming completely feral, abandoned and forgotten. To survive that, nothing else should have been able to come close in hardship. It had, though. The year apart from her; when Elena had fled after being forced to play the part of executioner….it had come so close to destroying him. Her departure had created a wound that felt as if it would never heal. The most important thing in your life torn away; you couldn’t fill the hole that had been left behind. It turned into an abyss. Those nights spent in her room; sitting on the floor, just trying to get a faint scent of her so that he could pretend that she was still there. How the uncertainty threatened his sanity; thoughts that couldn’t be stopped, the questions that refused to yield. Staring out of the window; looking towards the moon, how it bathed everything in a silver light, and wondering if she was doing the same in that moment. If someone else was holding her; touching her, whispering in her ear all of the things that he should have been saying. Every day, every single one, he had thought about jumping into his car, foot on the gas, refusing to let up until she was in his arms. To live through that; to never let the idea that they belonged together get shattered completely, it had been what gave him the strength to continue. No more sacrifices; she said that as she slipped his wedding band back on. The implication; what it truly meant...the magnitude of it was something Clay had grasped immediately. His love for her wouldn’t have to be put second to anything ever again; now that the truth behind the bite was finally known. He stood just on the other side of her door; his forehead was pressed against the faded white paint, eyes closed, able to picture her in his mind without the need for sight. They needed each other; now more than ever before. You and me. His hand came to rest on the brass doorknob but he didn’t turn it yet; he knew Elena, understood her on a level that no one was going to come close to. Not even Jeremy. “Darlin’, it’s me.” A soft tone; everything about her world had been turned upside down again...comfort was what he wanted to provide, what he needed to give her. Twisting the knob, he stepped into her room...the familiar space, where so many of their memories had been created. “It’s okay,” he held his hands up as if a gesture of peace. “You’re safe. Here with me.” (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, June 29th, 2014
4:39 pm [ex_sagitta476]	Starling City was only at the very beginning of its recovery phase; all the chaos, destruction, and fear that had been created during Slade’s unrelenting siege was still evident. The rumble of buildings that had once stood proudly; all of the fresh graves in the cemetery, people mourning for what had been lost, for the futures that had been ruined. There was an expedited search for a new mayor; things kept moving forward because they had to, there was no other choice...something new, although not guaranteed to be better, would rise from the ashes of tragedy. Oliver was nothing more than a bystander to all of it. The last six months had led him on the journey of becoming a ‘hero’; of truly trying to personify that word...no longer taking lives in the name of a vendetta, but saving them, clinging to the fragile belief of redemption. It was only in the aftermath of Slade’s imprisonment that he was forced to take a moment and realize just how much his life had changed; what had been taken from him. Both of his parents, his father years before, had perished before his eyes. Taken from the world violently, brutally, and all to ensure that their children had a chance to live. The loss of his mother was still fresh; it clung to his heart, an infection of his soul. It hadn’t been the end. Thea was gone; only a few texts shared, cold and unfeeling, indicating that she wouldn’t be coming back, to not look forward, because she wouldn’t be found. The large manor that had always been known as home no longer held that title; Queen Consolidated was in the midst of corporate anarchy...all things that he had been unable to save, the price of victory. Diggle had his growing family to worry about; and Felicity had been looking for new employment, something that he understood, considering she had been such a large part of all his plans, of course she would have to take some of the fall, even if Oliver wished he had been able to spare her of it. That had left him alone with his thoughts; living out of a hotel, not knowing how to begin to put all of the pieces back together. What did you do when you reached that point? Being a hero didn’t mean you were allowed to ride off into the sunset on a white horse; you suffered, because you were strong enough to endure it, and you promised to be better the next day. That feeling, the one that sat in the pit of your stomach, that refused to go away, it wasn’t something that Oliver knew how to share. Others could try to sympathize, to offer support, but they couldn’t understand. He was the one underneath the emerald hood; caught in the line of fire, when a millisecond could be the difference between life and death. He was the one that made those decisions, carried the responsibility…had to live with the outcome. If he had killed Slade five years ago, then none of this would have happened. That kind of guilt. Only one person knew what it was like to see things through his point of view; who had been there, experienced the same highs and lows….she couldn’t see in herself what Oliver did, but she still understood. Two soldiers that had shared the same battlefield; nothing else could have ever replicated those conditions, could it? And she was miles away. Sara Lance was supposed to be a memory; relegated to the past, removed from his life to pursue a path that she had known he wouldn’t be able to follow. But had it all been for him? She could list her reasons for going back to the League; it wouldn’t have made a difference. With her own eyes, she had witnessed what Slade was capable, and how helpless they had been against him. So she swallowed her own dreams in order to protect Starling City; to protect him. Because without the aid that Nyssa offered, there was little doubt in his mind that he would have ended up as another casualty. Sara had finally been able to come home; to see her family, to start a life...and she gave that up. What single act could be more of a sign of love? She sacrificed because of what they shared. He wasn’t ready for it to be over; when nothing made sense, she found a way to get through to him. She offered comfort when it was needed; and a reality check when it wasn’t. She had thought all that she was capable of was darkness; Oliver never bought into that, because he could see her heart, even when she was blind to it. She wanted him to find someone that could channel the light within him; he only wanted her. The way that he missed the youngest daughter in the Lance family went beyond description; it was an ache, more intense than physical pain, and more enduring. The League of Assassin’s reach extended far beyond his own; they worked in shadows, in secrecy, if they didn’t want to be found, they wouldn’t...but he was stubborn, refusing to let the last traces of her slip through his grasp. The tracking device that Oliver had tucked into her equipment months ago had never been destroyed; Sara was too well trained to not realize that it was there...maybe she hadn’t destroyed it because she knew sooner or later he would come after her, and this way ensured that he wouldn’t have to get entangled with any other members of the League, he could go straight to her. Protecting him again. Or maybe she had other reasons. None of it mattered right then; he had become heir to what the Queen family had left...one of the luxury vehicles had been sold to pay for all of the traveling expenses. At the moment, Starling City didn’t need the Arrow, they needed someone who could publically lead the rebuilding effort...and he needed her. It was a series of connecting flights; scrambling from one place to the next….when you were with the league, they never put you anywhere that was too accessible. Even with the blip on his screen that represented her coordinates. Under the cover of darkness, clad in the gear he wore as a far off city’s protector, he had scaled the building that Sara was staying in. Was she working a job? Had she run? Or was it just reconnaissance? He had so many questions but they would all wait. Just to see her, nothing could have been more important. From outside, he pushed the window up and swung one leg over the sill, into the room. He hadn’t given her any kind of warning. Her training may tell her to attack on sight. Oliver was willing to risk all of that just to look in Sara’s eyes again. (6 Comments |Comment on this)