( maintaining a nine-to-five with strong tendencies to meddle is nigh impossible. oliver knows this about himself, has seen it play out in driving queen consolidated into the ground, in verdant passing hands from tommy to thea, and in crashing and burning in every endeavor that isn’t using the skillset he brought back with him from lian yu. he’s not in denial about this particular inescapable truth but here he is anyway, messenger bag hooked across his body and resting at his hip, delivering items he avidly tries not to investigate.

it does explain why, when he’s spread out on the entryway floor of a hotel or a fancy apartment building, groaning ( but having successfully retrieved a stolen clutch wallet ) with a bag of groceries that has certainly seen better days — it’s dripping — he’s like this.

it does not explain why this sad sack has never gotten much better with excuses, showing up at the front door of some poor soul with various odds and ends that are mostly alright. the carton of a dozen eggs, on the other hand, look like they’ve been nearly sliced in half? )

I forgot to open the carton before I bagged them.

( on the one hand, he doesn’t subscribe to any of this and on the other, he has Seen Things. things that have made him question if it’s smart to ask questions. )

Does the name Mar Novu mean anything to anyone?

( haha, just kidding. #uthought. )

Whether or not the name rings any bells, if I'm here for the unforeseeable future, I wouldn't mind a running partner. How does 10k every morning sound?

( if neither of these strike you, then come at me, my dudes! pm or hit me up over at talldarkandgay if you'd like. )