dead man walking

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“I think only @hellwrcith has rights to such an act.”

hellwrcith:

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He could tell just from his, albeit restrained, expression that he was surprised. Jack’s been out of combat for months, but maybe that’s why it was so easy for him to be convinced. He didn’t want to take the time to think if his longing for the field was healthy or not.

His mouth twitches at the attention to his uniform. It certainly was a bit flashy–hasn’t stopped him before but he does shrug off the jacket, “That’s not the only thing i’m losing being stuck in here.”

“True… your sense of humor seems to have gone about as gray as your hair. Thoooough I say your ego could use a bit of a buffing…” He watched him for a quiet moment, watched the way the guy shed the jacket with such ease. It was a start, sure, but it wasn’t enough. Surely Jack had to know that his face was public property and there wasn’t anyone around who wouldn’t recognize him immediately…

Then again perhaps the number of people who went ahead and ignored the statue was larger than originally figured.

A tsk, and Gabriel took the necessary steps forward in order to snatch the com visor off the side of Jack’s face. “If you wanna get that perspective back, you’re gonna do it my way.” A full on uniform would be way too hard to pull out of thin air in such a short amount of time, so the armor would have to do. As for the guy’s poster friendly face…

He knew they both could wind each other up into eternity, slinging words like bullets rather than that actual ones stored in their guns. They knew they equalled each other out on many levels. They’d brawled verbally and physically enough times to know the situation usually favored neither. Gabriel won some, and Jack won some.

Jack would never admit to himself it sometimes weighed in Reyes’ favor.

He thought of saying something, but he really didn’t think entertaining the man would give him anything more than frustration.

The shotgun blast missed as Jack darted like a rabbit out of the way, pulse rifle firing off in return as he strafed the wraith. Reyes’ weaponry excelled in close combat, but he’d have to catch Jack first.

So the old man still had some jump in him… good. That just meant that this was going to be all the more entertaining.

Though unlike the other, he was now a thing that didn’t have to fear injury when pain was now a constant part of his own existence. Behind the mask the wraith was definitely smiling, an odd sense of blood thirsty glee rattled through those dead bones. Each round he could feel sink deep and tear, a minor discomfort in comparison to the pain that was already there, but it made him grunt and laugh all the same—a noise that could easily be disturbing in the moment.

And then he collapsed into a deep mist against the floor. It curled and surged to chase after the creature’s quarry. An explosion of mist as the body reformed when he was close enough, a hand thrusted out to grab at that stupid visor.

Well… at least this confirmed that the kid was getting better.

Only another breath before he reformed opposite of the impact and even turned to look at the handiwork. The exact number of pellets in one round embedded rather nicely into the wall… not only faster but definitely more efficient. Looked like the years apart really did do the cyborg quite some good.

To that thought the wraith had to give a whistle. “Hell of an aim. The monks did wonders on your training.” They could use that sort of skill in Talon, but Akande had wanted the brother for this. Less connections, more than likely, which was something that the creature found to be smart. “We can have one or the other but not the both of you, which is a pity. Besides, I’d think you’d want me to do the job over Doomfist.”

He didn’t know if he had the jurisdiction to do so. He hasn’t been in any sort of battle in weeks–too dangerous for a high standing commander evidently. If he were to die it would be some mayhem until Ana took his place–he thinks about it a bit too much, honestly.

He shifts from the table, taking his eye piece from the corner and looking at him evenly, “…I think you’re right about that.”

Well… that was almost alarmingly easy. Though he did have to admit that he was quite pleased, Gabriel couldn’t recall the last time he had actually seen the guy take so much as a single breath outside of that stupidly cushy office setting.

HANDIWORK    ?   He   stood   back   in   awe,   as   the   flamboyant   black   purges   of   smoke   and   dust      was   all   his   mind   could   contextualize   in   the   situation.               “       I   never   meant   for   THIS,   I   never   wanted     to…     ”           He   buckled   himself   back   up,   hiding   emotion   behind   the   red   lens.            “     Jesus,   Gabriel.      ”