@oldmanmccree

The mission had gone smoothly up to this point. Data extraction at an old Overwatch Watchpoint. Just her and McCree. She wasn’t sure when it’d gone south - it’d all been a blur, but now the pair were surrounded by... well, she wasn’t sure who they were, but they definitely meant business, guns pointed at them.

Closed for @oldmanmccree

It had taken so long. So fucking long to finally find this very special name on his list. Reaper didn’t know if he should be pleased or infuriated about that; he might have been disappointed if McCree had been easy to track down, it’d mean all the time spent teaching him would have been wasted. But oh, Reaper also wanted to find him, and though the long hunt was fun, he was also pleased that it had drawn to an end.

He had found McCree, in the end. Of course he had. There had never been any real doubt about the outcome, it had honestly only been a matter of time. Now the only thing left was to decide what to do with the whelp. There were so many possibilities. Jesse McCree had left. He left Blackwatch, and he needed to pay for that. On the other hand, he hadn’t taken Morrison’s side - did that earn him the respite of a quick death? Though leaving had in some ways been an even worse betrayal than if he’d chosen to side with Morrison.

McCree spun around to stare at the sniper. It wasn’t often that people managed to sneak up on him, but with so many heartbeats in the mess hall, he didn’t think any of them were directing their attention towards him. He had joined Blackwatch only a week ago, settled into the persona of a lifelong gang member in search of some kind of redemption. He placed a hand on his chest where his heartbeat would have pounded if he had one.

“Lord almighty, you startled me,” he gasped. “Looks like you got that edge.” He offered her a weak smile. “Don’t suppose you’d mind teaching me?” He tipped his hat to her. “The name’s Jesse McCree, by the by.”

Ana offers a smile to the other, hands falling into the pockets of her coat. A quick glance over of him and she finally speaks,

“I’d teach you, but you’d need to be able to sit still longer than five minuets.” 

A grin then breaks out,

@oldmanmccree

She should be rather thankful that weren’t many patients today. Last marauders from yesterday’s shooting – well, rather small fight, considering it was only one shot person- at the saloon left an hour ago., still trying to argue whether Jim was cheating with his cards or not. Most of the people were right now in work, so mostly women and children filled out the streets, trying to get their time occupied or fulfilling daily chores.

Fahéj glanced at them from time to time as she was checking the girl that minor fall from  tree brought her here. She still felt kind of strange in this city, since her whole family emigrated to this country not so long ago. But soon she discovered that more or less, people are just being nice and as long as you don’t have a bad intentions, they don’t really care from where you are. Also town was very pleased to find out she was a nurse, since they needed another one so their problem solved itself, and she couldn’t complain, having nice room and good job.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt the earth shaking, she quickly grabbed the nearest table so none glass with the chemical reagents and medicines wouldn’t fall on the ground and break. The shaking lasted rather shortly, and soon everything ended, though she could hear people leaving out of the buildings to see what could happen.

“Do not worry” Fahéj told to a small girl, still cleaning her wounds. Just now she sit there, waiting for an orders. If they will tell her to go, she would go. By now she was just waiting until the dark-haired man came out from the office, tension written on his face.  

“Miss Erdélyi, please follow me. There has been something happening in the mine, we might be needed. Sister Elizabeth, please stay here and take care of the patients” the doctor ordered. Fahéj smiled apological to the girl and stood up, cleaning her hands quickly and leaving with the man. As they were heading to the mine, more and more people started to join them.

Soon they were on place and the doctor tried to organize a small group that would go and search for any men that would be wounded. “Please stay here by now, sister. I will call for you when we will know there is no danger.” she was told, so she just stood there and wait patiently.

Until she noticed a man lying nearby, it was more far to the shadows of forest so by now nobody noticed it, as the crowd was rather in the back. She didn’t need to think twice as she rushed there, so in the short glimpse of thinking she had to admit she never saw him here. Must be someone new.

starter for @oldmanmccree​

Skinwalker [yee naaldlooshi]: Navajo witches frequently seen as coyotes, wolves, foxes, eagles, owls or crows... have the ability to steal the face of a person... lock eyes with a skinwalker they can absorb themselves into your body.

He’s stayed in the Navajo reservation for only a short time before his time was up - the skinwalker had moved on from the lands, abandoning its territory in favor of fleeing. A brief and hurried conversation with the medicine man pointed Hanzo south-west, to the American badlands.

And so he went, hunting the skinwalker that’d been his quarry for the past month. Ever since the Great Purge, the others had stuck to the shadows for the most part, preferring solitude over total extinction. But some... some defied the order of things and ran rampant. This particular skinwalker had been originally thought to be a serial killer located somewhere in Florida - the desiccated fingerbones and skeletons of small animals in the area, however, refuted that.

Most hunters refused to go after skinwalkers. They were hard to track and ever harder to kill - too clever by far. So of course Hanzo took the burden on himself.

It took him a week to get south in a combination of buses, hitchhiking, and taxi cabs. It also put a hefty dent in his wallet. The town he walked into was tiny, located in the dusty flatlands between nowhere and somewhere like it’d been dropped fresh off the set of an old Western. Hanzo half expected to see Clint Eastwood lounging on the deck of a building as he walked in. 

This town couldn’t have have held more than a thousand people, maybe even less.

Hanzo didn’t like small towns. Too close-minded, in his experience, and ready to group together at the first sign of a stranger.

He wandered around, avoiding conversation, until he found what looked like a hotel, though its bottom floor was a bar. It smelled like wood smoke when he walked in and Hanzo squinted through the slightly hazy interior to find the bartender.

It had been a while since she’d settled down in the forested mountain area, after having been on the run from the government for years, things had finally calmed down. However, she’d hardly dared going back into the public eye, too risky, despite how many years it had actually been.

The thick mountain forest she now called her home, was not far from the town of Eichenwalde in Germany, a place where she occasionally would visit just for a small bit of human interaction whenever she wasn’t in her beastly form.

As the night was approaching, so was her hunting time. During the day, there were often humans out in the forest on picnics, lumberjack business and hunting. Which was when she kept further away from the town and stayed near the large cave she’d chosen to as her nest. Treading through the thick wilderness, the large beast’s silvery eyes scanned in between the brush and trees. Her ears were standing on point to listen for any sounds, as she was hunting through the woods, hoping to catch a deer roaming or something of the like.

On silent paws, the large gryphon tread carefully, getting down in a crouch as she had spotted a small herd of deer, that was walking along the trees. She noticed that one of them was slightly behind, a young buck, adventurous, careless. Easy prey. Creeping closer, Skylar used the shrubbery to hide herself as best she could, well as best as something her massive size could anyway. Keeping her head down, her nostrils flared gently as she prepared to attack. Her behind wiggling subtly before she pounced and fell the young buck to the ground, scaring off the rest of the herd, while the buck underneath her squealed and tried to get free from her claws. Though to no avail.

It easily was one of the most humiliating situations Hanzo had ever found himself in: bruised, battered, exhausted, kneeling on the ground with the muzzle of a gun pressing against the back of his head, hands tied behind his back, waiting. He didn’t even know what for. The Shimada clan had fallen; though it did not go quietly and as far as he knew he was the last survivor. He had no secret information Talon couldn’t get out of the clan’s archive and quite honestly Hanzo had no clue why they went through the all this trouble. Apparently they didn’t want him dead, because if that had been the case he wouldn’t be still alive at this point, but they didn’t want anything from him either.

It didn’t make any sense to the archer, which only caused his frown to deepen, brows furrowed as he waited - until the door to the large office opened, letting in a certain cowboy, whom Hanzo recognized immediately. 

The image of his dead brother lying on the ground flashed before his eyes and for a moment he was back in Hanamura again.