#owlsector

                                                              “ you LOOK IT, too. ”

THERE’S A NUMBER of other fresh-faced greens from jack’s newer contingent that often express SHOCK at how EASILY he addresses reyes - first time they heard him speak up in banter, there’d been BETS PLACED that same evening about how long it’d be before he lost his head--- but 76 has taken a SHINE to 24, truly impressed by ALL the more-seasoned operatives, yet something about reyes permeates a sense of EASE for morrison--- & the fact he HASN’T yet lost his head is reason enough to keep going.

OF COURSE there’s respect for the older officer, a sense of AWE whenever allowed witness to the training of the earlier troops, but---there’s still a chance for LIGHTHEARTEDNESS now & again, & within the gloomy walls of the SEP facility, jack means to take what he can get.

The Spider watched the terror ripple through the encroaching dreg with each and every step they took inward. High above with a downward, backlit gaze, the kingpin’s head dipped in curiosity; a look of mild confusion as the Eliksni before him knelt to set the object down. Of course, he needed little more than a glance to know from where such a gift had been sent, and with an irritated grumble, he waved his hand quickly through the air. 

“Transmat it out of here immediately.” His voice rumbled through the safehouse, and before the words had left his mouth entirely, the associates on either side of the carved spider hull swept forward. 

As the faux engram began to dim and shift from a bright gold to carnelian, a response to the Spider’s common tongue was responded to with low, guttural Eliksni; an inquiry as to where the explosive was to be relocated. A shudder of irritation rumbled through the Don as he sat upright with a quickly angered response.

“Anywhere!” He shouted, the walls shaking from the vibrato of his voice. “Just get rid of it!” And with haste, as the engram took on a deeper, crimson hue, it was abruptly transmatted from the den. A deafening silence settled within the room, which was thereafter broken by an irritated huff as the Spider leaned back into the comfort of his seat.

But beyond the hidden, protective walls of his safehouse, Araskes little gift exploded high within the air like a burst of fireworks, and the Spider was certain that devious little cretin had been cackling. 

arya breathes deep of the scent of ozone rising off her armor, steels herself against the stab of uncertainty that lances through her chest at that smile. teeth teeth teeth. you will dream of teeth and nothing else! eyes like chips of slate break away from those teeth to trace out the shape of a man in front of her. but the shape is off though not all that noticeably. and there is a familiarity to what looks like the heat shimmer of blazing desert at the peripheral of her vision. it  disappears the moment she tries to bring it into focus. some things that do not wish to be truly seen can simply make it so. 

her ghost burns warm in her palm and she presses her fingertips against the center, as if for comfort. 

     TRUTHFULLY   HE   NEVER   THOUGHT   that   he   would   be   in   this   kind   of   position   again.    yes,    to   a   degree   he   might’ve   before   ahsoka   was   put   under   anakin’s   guidance.    but   after   that   he   pushed   it   from   his   mind.    the   council   wasn’t   too   happy   about   him   keeping   the   boy   under   HIS   eye,    but   after   considering   everything   he’s   perhaps   the   only   one   who   could.    taking   in   strays.    just   like   qui - gon  .  .  .

     he   knocks   on   paetgeon’s   door,    a   room   that   would   NORMALLY   go   to   a   senior   padawan   learner,    but   those   have   been   more  .  .  .    empty   as   of   late.    but   that’s   not   what’ s   important.    the   council   has   finally   allowed   obi - wan   to   take   him   outside   the   temple.    ❝   paetgeon?    are   you   awake?    there’s   somewhere   i   would   like   to   take   you   today.   ❞

     truthfully  he  was  hoping  he  might  get  away  with  not  having  to  go  through  this.   he’s  been  keeping  tabs  on  the  other  through  the  young  wolf  ever  since  he  was  brought  back   ---   but  he  didn’t  think  he’d  ever  be  able  to  face  him.   especially  after  leaving  such  raw  words  in  the  air  when  he  left.   he  feels  responsible  for  what  happened  to  saint - 14,   and  the  more  he  can  avoid  facing  his  failures  the  better.

     well .  .  .   looks  like  he  doesn’t  have  a  choice  in  the  matter.

Clutching her bleeding flank with one hand, Artemis staggered, brushing against a wall as her steps faltered. She leaned against the solid object for a moment, panting for breath, head spinning. Trying to regain focus, trying to regain strength.

They’d come for her, hunting her down without mercy. She’d fought them off — killed them all, for they were no match for a Spartan in RECON-class MJOLNIR GEN2 — and fled. Stealing their transport, and fleeing into Slipspace. It was only when she’d crashed the craft on an unknown world, did she realize that she’d been badly injured, and her armour was damaged.

She’d marched away from the smoking wreck, her only supplies the knives hidden in her armour, the Magnums on each thigh, and the Energy Sword, which she clutched in her free hand. Just in case, she’d thought to herself, just in case I need to defend myself.

She had no idea where she’d wound up. No idea if this planet was inhabited or abandoned, hostile or friendly.

All she knew was that she needed medical assistance — fast.

Broadcasting on all frequencies she knew of, she sent out a signal for help... If anyone were there to listen, they’d surely hear it.

“Mayday, mayday, this is Sierra Bravo Three-One-Two. I am injured and in need of assistance. Please, if anyone’s out there...”

Honestly, she thought him to be dead. But here he was. Hiding, and alive. 

When the shard called her to the dead forest all the Titan thought she would encounter was the House Dusk, lightning storms, and strange anomalies due to the tainted husk of the Traveler. But when the half-breed stumbled upon the sigil of the House Wolves her interest was piqued. Hadn’t the Queen sought them all out and killed them? Perhaps her reach was not as far as the woman thought. Maybe, just maybe beyond these walls of energy she’d find something interesting, or maybe she’d find nothing at all. 

Nothing was the exact opposite of what Tala found. Trudging into the small encampment in damaged plating, Titan sees a familiar face. 

Rhysis. 

How long had it been? Years. Gods. The Titaness can barely recall their last interaction with one another before his disappearance. To meet him and his crew here - of all places - was nothing short of a miracle. Playfully she yanks upon the elder’s massive helm; it causes him to chuckle and stoop to her level. A smile creeps across her piebald features. It was good to see him.

“ No. Just tired of everyone being taller than I am. ” Comes the joke. A fist gently punches one of the Fallen’s upper appendages in greeting. “ Thought you were a goner. Good to see yer still kicking... it’s been a long time Rhysis. ”

  They know one another is there, both in equal silence, standing among the ghosts of wind and dying breaths. Reaper can only wait for so long with question of Genji’s resolve on the matter. Trailing death slips between cracked structure to drift around the Cyborg’s form, over sharpened steel with no harm done. He is but a blinding smog waiting for an opening to end their standoff.

  Phantasmal claws scrape lines across Genji who’s yet to move. He is waiting. Reaper will opt for the first strike, with a vice grip around his wrist to bend back his arm with a blade still in hand up to his still fleshy throat. Another reaches for an ankle to rip it up from beneath him, and once on his back Reaper allows the remainder of his body to materialize. His knee presses deep into Genji’s gut and mask hovers just above the cyborg’s own, an unending gaze of darkness.

  It was too easy.

  “Why are you not fighting me?”

He was out in the open, conscious of the threatening presence stalking him and yet he was unable to clearly pinpoint where the danger was going to come from... Against a foe as deadly as he was silent, Genji was already all too aware that the odds were against him.

He only realized the enemy was close when the dark cloud washed over him. The cyborg drew his wakizashi in a useless effort to fight back, and when he noticed the blade could only phase through his foe, he was starting to realize getting away should have been his number one priority. Only then it was too late...

In the split second where the enemy began regaining his corporeal form and he felt his wrist being grabbed, nothing should have been able to prevent Genji from slicing Reaper’s hand clean off... And yet, he did not strike when given the chance.

Hesitation. Fear. Maybe something deeper. Call it what you will, he wasn’t sure himself.

The next thing he knew, Genji was pinned to the ground, his blade out of reach, and death staring in his eyes in more than just the literal way while squeezing the air out of his guts. Surprisingly serene despite his predicament, the ninja rose his head to return Reaper’s glare.