#hopeshielded

um! they would be ! best friends ! who are struggling to figure out humans

The temperature, the air pressure, the gravity. They’re all different. Kat can feel a heavier pull on her body, draining Dusty’s energy faster when she shifts. There’s more moisture in the air; it clings to her lashes and makes her sweat. There skies are empty and the roads are busy, packed even, because no one here has a need to fly. Once, a few days ago, she saw a small structure moving through the sky at a snail’s pace, leaving a white streak in its wake. She still hasn’t managed to ask anyone about it.

The skies feel so lonely that her heart skips a beat when she sees a figure in the distance, slowly coming closer. She still feels so disconnected from this world. Anyone, anything that could make her feel like she isn’t completely misplaced would be a blessing. One other person that braves the skies would be enough. So she spreads her arms, fully prepared to catch the flying figure in her arms even if it breaks her ribs. 

          a few days ago reyes handed him a manila file with a sympathetic grimace and sent him on his way. it’ll be about two weeks he’d said, and inside the file was a grainy picture of a blonde, smiling anxiously at a barista, taken with a telephoto lens. not much else had been in there, other than the people doing the initial surveillance claiming she was slippery, claimed she was dangerous, claimed she needed to be assimilated or eliminated. clearly reyes was skeptical. and that ... well, genji would hate to admit it, but he held the man in high regard. if the commander thought there was something fishy, he had to be on his guard. 

          the fact that this was the first solo mission he’d been given since being assigned to blackwatch barely crossed his mind. he was no spring chicken, he knew they didn’t trust him. they were probably going to be following him as well -- not that he would run. where would he go. 

          and so he’s here, four rainy, miserable days in and counting, shadowing this young woman. so far he’s seen her smile at people, play chase with some of the street kids, pet a stray dog, and wander. he has also seen her crush a lamp post in her grip and look around sheepishly to see if anyone had noticed. and then try to put it back. so sure, she’s got something going on, but he’s pretty confident she’s not a menace. but he knows the way those in power think :: if she’s not ours, she’ll be someone else’s, and actually ... genji can see that being a bit of a problem. her casual strength is raw, uncontrolled, rivaling even reyes and morrison. still in the grand scheme of things, her fucking something up seems like it will only be by way of accident. even so, he finds a faint part of him hoping she gets away from all of this. he doesn’t even want to know what they’ll threaten her with ( what he’ll have to threaten her with, he realizes ) if she doesn’t comply. 

          she’s sitting under a bus shelter, hood up to keep the cold wind and rain off her, and genji’s been crouched on this rooftop so long he feels like his joints have rusted into place. watching and waiting like this make him feel like a wraith -- he doesn’t feel hungry, or even much of the cold ( despite having half his chest and an entire arm bare ) -- still he finds himself wishing she would step into the cafe for some warmth and a coffee or something. just so he could watch her do it and pretend he can do the same. 

          someone shuffles up to her, mutters something he cannot hear. he leans closer, eyes narrowing as he catches a glint of a knife. is he ... mugging her ?? a swift glance up and down the street confirms that they are certainly, by all appearances, alone. huffing out a private laugh, he supposes she looks like a good target for a knifepoint mugging, if he can pretend he hadn’t seen her bend steel on accident. what is strange to him ... what really hits him, is that she doesn’t fight back. she looks ... nervous. 

          his orders, so far, have been firmly ‘do not engage’, but ... well, he’s never been great with impulse control ( they want him to be a hero now, and isn’t this what heroes do ) . surely if they’re upset he can think of some excuse later. so genji straightens up from his perch and drops four stories with the light grace and casual air of a panther. he is light on his feet, but the soft ‘thud’ of his landing is audible, as well as the soft ‘hiss’ of his vents releasing steam into the cold night. a hand rests on the hilt of his wakizashi, the blade bared just enough for the gleam tinged red from the neon signs to be menacing. he doesn’t speak, just takes an old lesson from his brother and cocks his head to the side. the man freezes, knife still tucked subtly against his side. he looks at her, a silent question, and kicks the voice in his head that mutters ‘mexican standoff’, simply because it sounds like mccree. another beat of silence.

  kara said she’d yiff shadow

IM GONNA KILL YOUu