#overwatch junk

Phara: No, but it will RAIN FROM ABOVE.

The info seemed sketchy, rather it was too good to be true. A source leaking exactly what he was looking for? He could smell the stink of a setup all over it. Yet, here he was, might call him a fool but if this was a setup perhaps it was by those who’d taken down Overwatch, those who were cleaning up the leftovers. They might have figured out who he was, he slid along a wall. The night was still hot and sticky in Numbani. The glittering city was alive with the night life, but he was not in the depths of the city. The outskirts was where he skulked. A few installations dotted around nothing with much meat. A warehouse was the target. He had it marked on his HUD, left over industrial buildings from the time of Numbani’s incredible expansion, and often filled with illegal items. Even glistening metropolises had their dark underbellies. He sprinted from one building to the next keeping out of sight. There wasn’t much guard, at the moment he didn’t know whether to be relieved or extra suspicious. If this information was so sensitive why was he being allowed to just way in and take it. Sneaking up behind one of the guards he hooked his gun around the man’s throat and choked him out, dragging him to lie out of sight. No one had seen him yet, and he slid weary of a spot light that was lazily shining around. Heat was one now, seemed there was to be some resistance. Knocking another guard on the back of the head he continued his stealthy trek through the installation. There was the objective in sight now. He hustled across a walk way before someone spotted him and now so close to his goal, he slipped into a doorway. His first thoughts: someone else was already there. He stashed himself behind a set of boxes and peaked out. “Clear the area,” came a voice that made the old soldier bristle, Reyes. He narrowed his eyes noting the black clad figure. It’d be so easy, a set of helix rockets to the back of the head, end the miserable sod before he’d even know it. 76, eased his rifle out, finger on the trigger. BANG! He looked at his pulse rifle and looked confused, hell he hadn’t shot! “Reckon it’s time for you to pack up and get out,” came an aggravatingly familiar drawl. Damnit, McCree, what the hell was he doing here? For a few breaths the old Soldier could only watch. “Well, well, uninvited guest,” Mused the cruel voice, it made Jack’s blood boil with the need for vengeance. Only years of training kept him silent and still. “Only uninvited guest is you, I’m the one being paid to keep this place safe, how about that; sides, you’re out numbered,” the cowboy tipped his hat up and smirked. The Reaper gave a dark chuckle. “I only see one of you,” he mused. A sound drew his attention, a bow string being pulled. “...Well now, who’s this friend of yours. He certainly doesn’t belong.” McCree chuckled. “Well seeing as how he’s got your head in his sights, doesn’t really much matter eh? 2 to 1, I’m likin’ those odds.” He took on that insufferably smug expression. “So it would seem, perhaps we should even the odds.” “Greetings, mon cherie,” purred a cold voice, the archer turning his attention to the woman who had seemed to just appear next to him. 76 was finding these odds further and further stacked against Jesse and his friend. He considered what he should do, if he left them to it maybe the Cowboy wins and he snatches his prize, if The Reaper won? Well he’d have a helluvalot of work on his hands. With a single fluid motion he entered the scene. “Maybe we should up those odds,” he had his rifle against his shoulder. “Tell your associate to stand down, or I do it for you.” A dark chuckle. “Oh my, isn’t this something, the vigilante everyone’s talking about. What a treat,” he turned one of his weapons to face 76. “Go ahead, shoot me, I can guarantee you will regret it old man.” McCree looked surprised, he smirked. “Howdy partner, aint this quite the coincidence,” he said, pulling back the hammer on his pistol. Something made the old soldier think this wasn’t a coincidence. “How’s about a team up, for old times sake?” “Gentleman, I feel this is not the moment for chitchat,” quipped the third man on their side. These damned stalemates, felt like he’d just done this, and 76 wasn’t getting any younger. “Jesse, duck,” he called and fired off a set of rockets. The cowboy only just managed it before the dark figure had vaporized to avoid the direct hit. “Well how do ya like that, coulda taken my head off with that shot!” McCree exclaimed. “But I didn’t, stop your whining and pay attention,” snapped the old Soldier. The stalemate broken, Hanzo didn’t wait around for instruction, he lept off the cat walk losing a scatter shot, that nearly caught the Widowmaker where she stood. He landed and pulled his string with arrow back, only to have to roll to avoid Reaper’s fire. “Now hold on!” called McCree, as he tossed a flashbang, momentarily blinding the sniper, who fired into a haze. “Activating tactical visor.” Lucky for McCree the smoke only made 76 more effective, he fired apparently blindly. Two grunts of pain indicated he’d hit his target. No sign of the Reaper, and Widowmaker had vanished with the flash. “Hoowee, not bad partner, new tricks there,” mused the Cowboy as he put an arm on 76′s shoulder. Hanzo did a quick sweep of the area, no sign of the dark pair, he slunk back bow hung around his body. “The area is clear, they have gone for now,” He reported clearly confused as to the appearance of this unexpected ally. 76 shrugged McCree’s arm off. “I’m not your partner, and I came here looking for something to do with the fall of Overwatch. Looking around I don’t see anything but an empty warehouse,” he looked right through Jesse with a cold tinge creeping into his voice. The cowboy spun around his revolver and holstered it. “’Fraid there’s nothing here you’d want then, hehe, this was pretty good bait though wasn’t it? I’ve been hunting down this Reaper fella, he’s hit 2 Overwatch installations in the past month. Tried to kill operatives of ours too, real piece of work,” he explained. “Could really use some help takin’ him down.” “Looks like you’ve got help enough,” the old soldier replied, glancing at Hanzo. “Always room for one more.” “I already told you once, stay out of my way.” One more cursory glance around this dead end and he walked past the cowboy, brushing his shoulder. It was like he was physically expressing what he’d said. When he was well out of the building McCree lit up a cigar and sighed. “You said this ally of yours would be willing to assist on this mission, it would seem he is not as eager as you assumed.” “Nah, nah ya just gotta give it time, just like any wild ‘stang ya gotta have patience,” the cowboy assured and cleared his throat. “Anyway, time to pack up, get this wagon train moving. We still have a bad guy to catch.”

Soldier 76: ...

Holy shit this broke me. I died and came back from the dead just to give this to you all.

I might draw some more or even finish this one idk