Arrow: Fracture Part 3

A Natural Balance

Splashes of dirty water reached outward from the collecting puddle as Grant Wilson and Roy slushed through it. The bow staff twirled around, almost playfully while Grant prodded at his opponent. A quick snap would easily be blocked by Roy's batons, but these simple strikes weren't meant to damage but instead test an enemies style as well as lure them into a pattern that they could hope to anticipate. Constant training would hinder any hope of truly catching thr young hero in such a mistake however, he most likely understood the tactic and was using it try and gain an upper hand via overconfidence. Grant grinned underneath his mask, he had yet to meet such worthy foes. His time with HIVE hadn't been long, but it had been busy and deadly. Starting with eliminating a few foreign diplomats that had outlived their usefulness, a simple car accident had solidified to HIVE that the young man was component enough to know how things worked. He moved onto more enforcement roles afterward, here he was able to fully utilize his hard-earned skill set that mirrored his father's. HIVE had operations active all over the world, most well hidden and some in plain sight. Grant was tasked with an assignment that didn't require much nuisance or stealth given the wartorn setting, which he was thankful for. Cutting through countless fools that were loyal to an idealistic revolutionary that had been clinging to a hopeful future for his country was exactly what Grant wanted, and needed. Growing up under the stern fist of Slade Wilson left both physical and mental scarring, particularly a desire to push forward by means of strength and violence. His father was a lifer in the warring world, whether serving a flag or a government agent, he had built a life around war and he had raised his family to fit into that lifestyle. Grant had often wondered how his mother would have raised the family if she would have been the only parent, but instead of fighting to be apart of her children's lives she spent as little time with them as possible. Slade picked up the slack and ran with it, doubling down on his children to prepare them for the real world. Grant idolized his father, seeing not a monster but a warrior who understood the world for what it would never be. That sense of realization struck Grant during his brief time in the military, witnessing just how selfish and contradicting those in power really were and how eager to follow many were. Killing innocent people wasn't an issue for Grant, but the political games and nonsensical so-called ethics that went with them were. Mercenary life was easier than he had expected, he had already meant numerous contacts in the military and simply had to show his usefulness to them. Quickly making a name for himself was exactly what he had wanted, but it also came as a double edged sword. The Wilson name was synonymous with his father and his truer name, Deathstroke, leading Grant to forge his own path while taking inspiration from his father.
Ravager
The name was appropriate given his violent nature and results, and in a world full of masked super heroes everyone was giving into the dramatic flair to some extent. But it wasn't until HIVE recruited Grant that he would receive his armor that was a mirror image to his father's, with some adjustments. The completion of his true self was fulfilled, Grant was free to forge his own legend and it started in Starling City. Lightning fast strikes and spins weren't new to Roy, but after battling through HIVE and the League of Assassins, it was growing effective at weakening him. The batons began to dig into his hands, each block or attack rattled his wrists and strained his muscles. He only needed to keep his wits for a few moments longer, Thea would be on her feet again to help. Being kicked through a door wouldn't be enough to keep her down. Grant spotted the movement behind him, he was about to br facing two opponents simultaneously. Thea rolled into combat, springing upward with a flurry of swipes from her sword. Grant moved to protect himself, backing away while deflecting the attacks. Thea's speed played against her, loosening her grip on the sword and allowing Grant to disarm her. The sword bounced off a desk and left Thea to receive a few blunt strikes from Grant's staff, slumping her to the side. The staff raised high before swinging down at her face. Thea snatched the solid wood and held it out from her, locking the two in place. Roy wasted no time by charging in, grabbing the other end of the staff and kicking Grant with both of his feet. The two boots colliding against his chest threw Grant backwards to the ground without his weapon. Thea rose to her feet and together her and Roy slammed the staff down onto their rising knee, snapping the weapon in half. They tossed the broken pieces aside and paused as their opponent moved to his feet undeterred. A weapon was just that to Grant, it could be replaced and often should be. He immediately snapped the two katanas from his back, twirling them into an offensive stance. Thea and Roy prepared themselves, both breathing heavy.