#martyrr

Black smoke slid beneath the doorway, for once the wraith form working in his favor. When it usually forced him out of his physical form at the worst possible times — this moment had been different somehow. He did not waste time on the details of his CONDITION, merely slipping in without a single soul noticing how the air had shifted. 

The smoke rose, materializing into his human form once again and sending a shooting pain through his spine. His teeth clenched beneath the mask, silently cursing the world for making him suffer so. Perhaps it would have been better off if he’d stayed DEAD. No matter, as the last of the smoke materialized into his cloak he took a step forward, the sound of his boots echoing through the room.

“ZIEGLER — “

Her name fell from his mouth as a low growl as his arm extended, shotgun pressed against the back of her neck. Talon had its own ideas as to why he was there, now, of all times. They were free to believe what they wanted, but the truth was simple. The Reaper would not rest until he learned who the mole was. Who had betrayed Overwatch and all they stood for, and led to his death.

HANDS            :            they’re      tanned      &&      calloused,      one      hovering      over      pistol      hidden      in      the      back      of      her      pants.      EYES      :      they’re      sharp,      squinted      at      half      lifeless      body      slumped      down      on      the      ground      in      front      of      her.            the      body      shifts      :      moves      for      the      first      time      since      the      brunette      carried      it      in      nearly      fourteen      hours      ago.      she      had      almost      gave      up,      almost      stuck      a      bullet      between      it’s      dark      lids      &&      moved      on.      but      the      heartbeat      &&      heavy       breaths      stop      her,      unable      to      kill      something      living      (      …      )      again.        ❝       HEY.       ❞       VOICE       :       raspy,       quiet       but       could       easily       fall       on       listening       ears.       heavy       boot       lifts       &&       nudges       the       other       lightly.       ❝       HEY.       are       you       alright?       ❞

𝙣𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙨   𝙘𝙪𝙩   𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠   𝙩𝙤   𝙩𝙝𝙚   𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙘𝙠   𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚   𝙤𝙛   𝙣𝙤   𝙪𝙨𝙚   .          as      𝓅𝑒𝓃𝓃𝓎     𝒷𝓁𝒶𝓀𝑒      tried  her  damndest  to  pry  the  locked  lid  off  of  a  found  jewelry  box  ,  her  calm  efforts  were  quick  to  deteriorate  into  that  of  something  teetering  on  the  line  of  a  temper  tantrum  .  when  hands  proved  to  be  of  no  use  she  moved  onto  swift      kicks  ,      and  when  that  failed  ?  the  study  box  found  itself  being  dropped  on  the  floor  ,  a  look  of  shock  on  appearing  on  the  perpetrators  face  as  though  she  hadn’t  done  it  entirely  on  purpose  .  

          although  no  attention  was  paid  until  she  felt  like  doing  so  penny  was  well  aware  of  the  other  figure  in  the  room  ,  and  it  was  with  a  puff  of  air  that  removed  hair  from  her  eye-line  that  said  figure  was  finally  addressed  .      “          ARE      YOU      GOING      TO      HELP      ?      OR      DO      YOU      JUST      LIKE      LOOKING      AT      ME      .          ”

@martyrr​ said:

“ this wasn’t your fault.”