#marteared

why was she even doing this ? the question had bounced around hana's mind a few times already ( & been promptly ignored each time it came close enough for her have to address it. ) but her bunny slipper clad feet carried her down, taking the stairs rather than trusting that rusty elevator. she had to remember to ask winston if fixing that thing was in the budget -- after all the bullshit she's been through, she can't die to faulty elevator cables. can you imagine ? . . . cringe.

it was significantly colder down towards the holding cells, her thin starcraft shirt & fluffy my melody pajama shorts weren't doing much to keep out the chill - she should've considered that. ( look, hana, yet another reason to go back to your room ! ) she marched on, driven by a force she barely understood, scanning her id on the door without letting herself have a second thought. though muffled by the soft texture, her footsteps still echoed quietly in the concrete structure. a bunker turned makeshift jail for the homicidal bastards her fellow- yet far too optimistic - agents were convinced they could rehabilitate. love, especially familial love, is scarily strong, isn't it ? she misses the feeling.

an R-7000 . . . the ravager unit. crafted not by any flesh & blood but by a vengeful ai. she had always seen a bit of a jackal face in the design of R-7000s & found it a bit ironic. even to a separate race of beings, human influence spreads like an invasive plant. ( what details the brain takes note of while in the middle of a fight for her life. ) she's snapped out of her thoughts quickly when he speaks, the bass of his speakers in the concrete space startled her -- she had assumed he'd been recharging . . . & now she'd been caught. ( stealth diff. )

his question catches her off guard almost as much as his conscious state did. time to face the music, hana : why are you here ? even his first question is one of motive. it's the natural response. it's the question she'd been avoiding her entire way down & now, face to face with the leading force behind the organization that had taken everything from her -- she had to answer it.

for you for you for you . . .

the words echo in the reaper's mind, half rotted but still sharp, half gone but half here -- much like the man it once was. its' heart beats a little harder, though the damn thing should be gone by now. what use is a heart to a walking shadow -- a living corpse ? yet it stirs. it aches.

our soldiers have their eyes obscured but expressions aren't necessary to feel the way their decades long bond crackles in the air. ( after fifteen years, after death & rebirth, the spark lives on. ) the reaper stays still, as if any attempt to hide body language could do anything to counteract its' deafening silence after jack's words.

the answer is quick in hanzo's mind -- isn't it ?

is his life naught but unending pain ? he is not a man, he is a ghost -- a spirit of regret & sorrow that lives within the shell of the man who was hanzo shimada. the weight he carries --- no. carries is the wrong word. the sorrow haunts him. it has a grip tight around our archer's throat. so tight that he finds many nights that he cannot breathe. even warm memories of childhood are stained with blood. laughter drowned out by the pleas of his brother --

cole - while having gone through his own share of tragedies - simply could not understand this. nor did hanzo ever wish for him to. our warrior does not fault him for this. it is a genuine attempt to help but hanzo knew he was well past the point of help -- past the point of redemption. cole's warmth pushes hanzo to entertain the thoughts. if only to humor the gunslinger.

it was a hopeful & romantic idea but what else could he really expect from someone from treviso. the city was built off of the inherent intimate nature of dim candle light & the lingering savory taste of wine on one's tongue . . . the kind of life he never expected he could even get a taste of, nor did he really want to. his place was out -- his boots in the mud, his food cooked over naked flame, & nothing above him but stars. ( maybe some trees. ) so lucanis' poetic take only rubbed him the wrong way.

everything about lucanis rubbed him the wrong way.

he shouldn't even be able to stomach being around lucanis in the first place. he reeks of demon, even assan kept his distance. but the warden refused to let a demon's presence have so much control over him. ( trying to prove yourself again, davrin ? you did always have to be exceptional -- the exception. ) the only thing he can really trust about lucanis is his fondness for rook & so how davrin's own favor with their leader kept the crow on a leash.

the desire to keep that favor fought with his instinctual anger & disgust at what lucanis is. not only was it not right but it was different than the usual situation. so many unknowns made the warden uneasy. ( is it really his fault, davrin ? he keeps a lid on it, he's done nothing but help the team so far -- ) he ate the meal in front of him with no fear. a decisive stab into a potato & a thoughtful moment of chewing later, he finally says something --

they'd promised steve's mother they'd handle the laundry & sarah rogers was not a woman who played around about clean clothing. ( he can practically hear her now : being poor isn't an excuse to be dirty, stevie. ) with her shift at the hospital ending soon, the boys rushed through the scrubbing & wringing only for the damn clothesline to get stuck on something. just their luck.

which is how they got here : with steve holding a ladder while bucky was at the top with a screwdriver & a dream of not being lectured all through dinner. ❝ come on, buck, what's taking so long ? you scared of heights or something ? ❞

@marteared's bucky said : ❝ forgive me if i slip and stab you in the face. ❞ to steve !

the car ride back from claire's office was always so awkward . . . especially if the session hadn't gone well. like today. the conversation about accountability was hard for both of them -- she struggled to let go of the feeling that her single moment of infidelity was justified in the face of the physical & emotional cheating that was going on. but billy . . .

billy struggled to admit he'd done anything wrong. as usual. ( if she hears the phrase 'nothing happened' again, she might fling herself into the pacific ocean. ) but also, as usual, he came around with a moving statement of love & commitment, one her heart desperately clung to -- she wants it to work with him. she knows it can. that's why they're going to these sessions. because it can work. but the effort has to come from both sides.

@marteared's ramattra said: " how many people have you killed ? how many ? "

the question took the air from her lungs. yes, angela, how many ? how much blood is on your hands ? how many lives has your technology taken ? how many people died because you heard the words "full funding for anything you need." & you didn't bother ask another question ?

how many people have you killed ?

a free fall in her gut, she felt like she was plummeting to earth ( did your high horse sit too close to the sun ? ) - surgeon steady hands begin to have a slight tremor to them & she grips her staff a bit tighter, her knuckles growing pale from the effort. she can't hide the pain in her eyes as she ponders the answer to his question. nor did she want to. though the wings on her back now feel like an anchor - a weight taking her straight down to the ocean to drown her ; she isn't afraid to be vulnerable in this moment. how much she cares is not a weakness he can exploit.

she hasn't smiled so much in so long . . . the conversation had barely been going ten minutes & her cheeks were already starting to hurt. the decade that had passed since she was last physically with him was both easily felt & easily ignored. she was twenty three again, eating lunch in her office & giggling like a school girl over one of genji's funny stories.

but he was so much more lively now ! the genji she had known was much quieter. he's still soft spoken, there was no doubt, but there was a smile clear in his voice that she had only heard a few times in the past. it was lovely to hear. she, on the other hand, had only gotten worse in their decade apart. harder, colder, with less optimism & far less faith in humanity. ( it was nice to laugh again, she had to admit. ) his warmth was easing all of that, though.

@marteared 's genji said: ❝ i did meet some of the most insufferable people but they also met me. ❞