` / REAP.

“You are looking well.”  || @iiontach​

       “Define  well.”

He  has  to  scoff  at  the  question  when  was  the  last  time  he  had  been  well?  Both  mentally  and  physically  speaking  he  was  like  a  trainwreck  through-and-through.  He  was  a  shadow  of  the  proud  man  that  he  used  to  be,  a  hero  turned  monster,  and  his  body  was  in  a  constant  state  of  degradation  and  repair  as  his  cells  rapidly  decayed  only  to  restore  themselves  in  the  next  instant.  It  was  a  hideously  painful  process  and  though  he  could  not  fully  fault  Moria  for  it,  she  could  not  have  known  the  reaction  his  body  would  have  to  that  explosion  at  the  Swiss  HQ,  she  still  had  a  lot  of  nerve  stating  such  an  absurd  comment.

“Leave! Me! Alone!” (i feel this spiritually as a healer main) || sentence starters || @evermerciful​

“Sorry.  Can’t  do  that.”

Why  would  he  back  down  simply  because  she  screamed  at  him  to  do  so?  The  hellfire  shotgun  that  was  pointed  at  her  does  not  waver,  it  is  safe  to  assume  that  the  Reaper  wouldn’t  hesitate  to  shoot  and  end  her  if  she  did  not  comply.  He  did  not  allow  such  trivial  things  as  past  relations  hold  him  back  from  what  needed  to  be  done.  The  man  he  used  to  be  was  gone.

“ you’re my biggest ‘what if’. what if.. ” // lov u c; || @soldierwatch​

“What  if  what?”

The  words  are  hesitant.  Cautious,  and  guarded,  spat  out  in  that  low  growling  tone  he  had  taken  to  since  the  conception  of  his  second  identity.  Quite  frankly?  Reaper  doesn’t  like  the  connotations  that  Morrison’s  words  bring,  doesn’t  want  to  think  about  the  past,  and  the  old  emotions  that  lurk  there.  There  was  no  sense  in  it,  why  dig  it  up  when  both  of  the  men  that  they  used  to  be  were  dead?  They  would  both  be  better  off  if  they  left  old  ghosts  be.

It  is  hard  to  tell  what  the  Reaper  is  thinking  behind  the  stark  whiteness  of  the  mask  that  he  wore,  but  there  is  a  certain  rigidity  to  his  shoulders  as  if  guarding  against  something.  His  shotguns  remain  idle  in  his  holsters,  for  now,  he  didn’t  want  to  kill  his  former  friend  like  this,  when  skeletons  were  being  brought  back  into  the  light  and  the  aggression  in  the  other  seemed  muted...  Almost  as  if  he  were  looking  at  him  and  was  not  seeing  the  monster  that  now  stood  in  front  of  him.

The  truth  was  a  sad  and  hollow  thing.  The  matter  of  fact  was  that  Jack  was  also  his  biggest  ‘what  if’.  He  didn’t  allow  it  very  often  but  sometimes  the  mind  would  wander  unbidden  and  he  had  to  wonder  ‘what  if’?

“ you know i always have your back . ” // ♥ || hurt & comfort sentence starters || @soldierwatch​

Will  you?

The  words  dangle  unspoken,  hanging  off  the  tip  of  Gabriel’s  tongue  before  they  are  swallowed  back  down.  No,  Jack  didn’t  deserve  such  biting  words,  even  if  things  had  been...  strained  between  them  as  of  late.  The  Blackwatch  commander  knew  that  there  were  things  that  his  comrade  wasn’t  telling  him,  and  perhaps  for  good  reason.  Things  were  tense  between  Overwatch  and  the  rest  of  the  world,  since  Blackwatch  was no  longer  in  the  shadows,  and  while  their  operations  were  now  suspended,  that  didn’t  mean  nations  had  stopped  their  scrutiny  of  Overwatch  as  a  whole.  All  of  that  came  to  rest  upon  Jack’s  shoulders  as  strike  commander,  it  was  bound  to  make  things  taunt,  nerves  frayed  thin  by  the  tension  in  the  air.  Still  when  you  are  so  used  to  confiding  everything  with  someone  and  that  is  no  longer  wholly  returned  it...  stings.

Of  course,  that  goes  both  ways  and  Gabriel  is  fully  aware  there  are  things  that  he  hasn’t  told  Jack  in  return.  There  was  something  bigger  at  play,  of  that  he  was  sure.

“   you  want  me  to  punch  him  in  the  face  ??   ” || hurt & comfort sentence starters || @huckleberrytm​

        “Way  ahead  of  you  there,  Jesse,”  the  joints  in  his  fingers  crack  as  he  flexes  his  hand,  staring  hard  enough  at  the  retreating  man’s  back  that  he  could  probably  burn  holes  through  him  if  he  wanted  to.  It  had  only  been  a  few  minutes  prior  that  his  fist  had  been  colliding  with  the  side  of  the  man’s  face  with  enough  force  to  send  the  other  individual  sprawling.  

And  all  over  some  off-hand  comment  that  Gabriel  had  barely  managed  to  even  catch  behind  his  back.

He  didn’t  even  know  who  this  man  was,  a  faceless  agent,  someone  from  another  branch  of  Overwatch  he  didn’t  recognize  that  had  decided  to  make  it  their  business  to  basically  spit  upon  him,  more  or  less.  They  hadn’t  even  been  talking  to  him  directly  but  still,  he  turned  upon  a  dime  and  let  his  arm  fly.  It  is  only  then,  in  the  aftermath  when  the  other  man  is  scurrying  away,  that  he  notices  Jesse  at  his  side,  inquiring  what  happened.

Oh my 😳😳😳😳

        “So  what  do  you  plan  to  do  with  your  scheduled  leave  next  week?”

It  is  an  idle  question,  spoken  with  a  note  of  vague  curiousity  in  his  tone  as  his  fork  swirls  around  in  the  little  puddle  of  mashed  potatoes  on  his  plate.  It’s  been  a  few  months  since  Jack  first  arrived  at  the  compound  for  the  SEP  program  and  his  first  bout  of  leave  was  coming  up  soon  and  suffice  to  say  Gabriel  was  curious  what  he  would  do  with  it.  He  was  still  getting  to  know  the  man,  and  had  yet  to  learn  much  about  his  life  outside  the  military.  Normally  he  wasn’t  one  to  pry,  but  it  was  a  simple  question.  Spoken  in  a  manner  which  said  that  he  didn’t  particularly  mind  or  care  one  way  or  another  if  it  was  answered.

@valkyrel​:  careful steps across the mat and heavy breathing that has her attention. she’s come so far since he’s started teaching her. graceful frame dances backwards, dodging light blow after light blow, until... there, an opening. she ducks beneath a swinging arm, kicks one leg into his own, and sends them both sprawling. a heartbeat later she’s on top of him, straddling strong hips and her hands pinning him. triumph on her features. “Too easy.”

Angela  Ziegler  had  never  not  been  strong,  absolutely  more  than  capable  of  defending  herself.  She  was  shrewd,  quick-witted,  and  able  to  simply  outsmart  any  opponent  she  might  face.  Her  sidearm  that  she  carried  was  also  a  useful  asset  but  when  it  came  to  hand-to-hand  combat....  that  is  where  she  was  lacking  somewhat.  More  than  was  acceptable  in  Gabriel’s  eyes.

She’s  come  a  long  way  since  he’s  started  instructing  her  though,  her  movements  as  sharp  and  precise  as  when  she  holds  a  scalpel  within  their  hands.  She  is  fast  too,  dodging  and  weaving  away  from  the  blows  he  throws  at  her  with  all  the  grace  of  a  dancer,  biding  her  time,  waiting.  One  particular  wide  swing  by  him  creates  the  opening  she  is  looking  for  and  then  suddenly  his  legs  are  buckling  from  under  the  force  of  her  kick,  his  back  hitting  the  training  mat  with  a  solid  thump.  And  although  the  mat  below  them  absorbed  most  of  the  kinetic  force,  the  blow  still  disorients  him  enough  to  give  Angela  ample  time  to  pin  him  down  and  before  he  knows  it  there  she  is,  poised  above  him  with  a  shining  grin  upon  her  face.

        “Don’t  be  so  sure  about  that,  do  you  want  me  to  be  harder  on  you?”  Not  that  he  is  going  easy  on  her  by  any  means,  but  still.  “Next  time  I  won’t  be  so  easy  to  take  down.”