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The number of Overwatch agents, both old and new, is long. However, they are typically able to recognize a name or a face. In Octane’s case, they do not recognize either. They are not sure whether he makes such a statement out of pride or unease, but in either case, they shrug it off. They’re not here to talk to him. They’re hear to make sure innocent people are able to get out of harm’s way. They perform one of their scans, eyes glowing red as they do so. Octane can’t see what they’re doing, only those designated as allies can view their scan. Their scan reveals one potential hostile (Octane) and the form of a child trapped beneath rubble.

Approaching a nearby pile of rubble, they dig and dig until they find the crying face of a scared child. “Hey sharpshooter,” they call out to him, beckoning him over with the wave of the hand, “help me pull her out.”

OCTANE WAS TOO BUSY GLOATING TO REALIZE THEY WEREN’T PAYING ATTENTION TO HIM.

he was only pulled back to reality when he heard the strange noise of the other scanning the area. the speedster eyed them with curiosity, but only dared to approach them when they asked him to.

“ oh shit-- there’s somebody under there?? “

suddenly, his self-confident, snarky persona seemed washed away and replaced by genuine worry and concern. even though he was wearing a mask and goggles, his body language alone spoke volumes.

he was quick to slide down the pile of rubble he’d been throning on, before rushing over to the stranger’s side to help them push aside whatever debris was still in the way so the two of them could carefully pull the poor girl out of it.

even though octane primarily joined the reformed overwatch organisation for fame, attention and publicity, a part of him still cared about the well-being of others, especially innocent civilians. so when he had that little girl standing in front of him, he knelt down and helped her dust off and check for injuries.

he may be made for death-defying stunts that might as well end his life one day, but he was very much aware that others weren’t like him.

@allfatherblessed​

Energy depot was always a HOT DROP, but today, only one other squad had dropped with them. UNFORTUNATE. Revenant would have liked more kills to warm up with.

But it was especially unfortunate for the other squad, who were taken out PROMPTLY and without incident. If Bloodhound was the perfect hunter, Revenant was the perfect HUNTING DOG. Their third had split off and dropped solo - an all too common occurrence with anyone whose NERVES got the better of them when faced with the simulacrum as a teammate, convinced he would kill them before an enemy did - but as far as the sim was concerned, the two of them didn’t NEED a third anyway.

He was stocking up on ammo but PAUSED, realizing his squadmate’s respirator was making a lot of... NOISE.

“Blood.”

He hadn’t thought the enemy squad had gotten any hits in. The pair of them had cleaned up pretty QUICKLY.

Being on the run wasn’t easy. 

There was so much to consider when getting seen by the wrong people could mean certain death and there isn’t a moment that goes by that Tae-Joon’s mind isn’t buzzing. He always has to have a plan in place should something go wrong, no matter what he is doing, even if it is something as simple as picking up some milk from the corner shop. He never visits the same place more than a handful of times, never stays in one spot for more than a couple of weeks, and only leaves his temporary homes when it is necessary to do so. It’s a rough way to live but it’s kept him alive thus far.

Still as careful and meticulous as he is about removing any trace of himself, he’s still had to make a run for it a handful of times. The people pursuing him are clever and dogged in their determination to see him dead. Dead and unable to let spill the secrets that he never should have known and yet - here he is. He’s had bounty hunters and mercs on his tail before but thankfully none have yet been successful in finding him.

So when he hears the tinkling of the shop’s bell and lifts his head to see who had entered his heart near stops dead in his chest. Walking in is the Bloodhound, a bounty hunter, he knew, and one of the best there possibly is. For a moment he is frozen in place, throat tight, panic making it difficult to calm down and think of something to do. 

BLOODHOUND’S VOICE BREAKS ELLIOTT OUT OF HIS DREAM, but the trickster stubbornly keeps his eyes shut as if he could force himself back to SLEEP. Though he mutters out something that isn’t quite audible, until Blood was kissing him awake. Blinking his eyes open, he looks up to his partner and smiles sleepily at them. ❝ That’s Sleeping Beauty and you KNOW IT, babe. ❞ 

kiss prompts ( accepting ) / hair kiss + forehead kiss for @allfatherblessed

          her fingers worked delicately with the red hair, the corner of her lips stuck between her teeth as she focused on the braid in front of her. it took a small amount of convincing, but bloodhound was here — sitting right between loba’s legs, arm resting on their propped up knee, other leg spread out across the floor. “you’ve got to stop moving, hound,” she said it with feigned annoyance, but as they talked, they moved and moving even an inch now would mess the whole thing up and anything less than perfect was not up to loba’s standards, so she would just have to start over.