Feb 14, 2017
@simple-geometry @swiftlystruck
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Hanzo!”
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@simple-geometry @swiftlystruck
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Hanzo!”
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He can’t breathe. He can’t move. The pain in his arm dwarfs everything else, crushing everything else and Jesse can’t feel his fingers- he can’t feel anything- and he realizes with horror that the pain is not in his arm; it’s in his shoulder and everywhere else. Jesse cannot move his arm. Jesse struggles, but hes trapped, pinned to the ground by the one thing he cannot feel and he has to go, he has to leave. Someone is screaming and it’s grating and Jesse wants to shut them up, to tell them to come help instead of running their voice hoarse, but it’s his own voice that’s preventing him from speaking, his own scream that’s in his ears and he feels something rip-
Jesse flails, feels hand hit wall and he shoots upright, cursing under his breath as he tightens hand into fist, hunched over himself as he forces shaking hand open, then lets it close back into a white-knuckled grip once again. He opens his hand, closes, open, close, watches it and keeps himself from looking at his left arm. He can feel his hair stick to his face, and he quickly rubs it away with the back of his arm, sighs with a shudder, and sits in the dark.
“Damnit,” Jesse pushes his feet off the mattress and over the edge of the bed, takes a moment to catch his breath and staggers up to a stand. Sleep isn’t going to come back now- repeating this process over and over has taught him that plenty- and staying in his room, left with nothing but ruminating isn’t going to work. He’s already in sweats and a shirt. It’ll be fine.
He stumbles to the door, smacks his fist against the control panel more than he actually presses any sort of digital button, but it registers anyways, and the hydrolics sound as the door opens. Jesse steps out, hears them close behind him, and he looks down the hallway. His breath still isn’t even. He ignores it, pushes through and starts groggy steps down the hall, towards the kitchen. The same steps lead him almost immediately past Genji’s room as well, Jesse notes, but he doesn’t knock, doesn’t want to bother, not when he’s sure it’s some godawful time in the morning. So he passes.
He makes it to the kitchen, lifts his head to look at the coffee maker. He doesn’t have the patience for it right now, doesn’t have the will to even think that hard, he realizes, and so with a sigh he moves onward, presses forward to the lounge where he can find a couch to sit on, gain control of his breathing and hopefully subsequently his thoughts afterwards.
He feels pains in his arm that he hasn’t felt in months, pains that he shouldn’t be able to feel any longer.
Closed for @swiftlystruck
@swiftlystruck
Sunny was sitting in the lounge after getting there that morning as fast as he could. Once he’d heard the recall, Sunny left everything behind. He didn’t hate his job as a bartender, but it wasn’t Overwatch. Nothing he did since ever made him feel as whole as he did when he worked for them, so he had no hesitations when deciding to come back. Overwatch was his home. There was a lot more faces he saw now though, not because there were more. A lot of people probably either found new jobs, were dead, or just didn’t want to come back, but the people he was seeing were new to him. Not the old buddies he remembered having back in the day, which meant his personality switch had to be flipped on again if he was going to try and make friends. He was getting comfortable in his chair as people walked around, starting conversations or getting familiar with the base again when a person who looked like he belonged in one of those old futuristic movies came waltzing in. Holy shit. Sunny thought, looking up as he tried not to gawk. Being with Overwatch, Sunny had pretty much seen it all. Seen advanced omnics, weaponized machines, people with all sorts of parts, you name it, but it was still cool to him every time. He spent his childhood around humans and believed up until that point that humans that were all that existed. It may be years later, but the childlike awe of seeing these different forms of bodies was still there. They could probablly kill me. Nice.
@swiftlystruck / ♥︎’D THIS FOR A STARTER !
she arrives; taciturn. a cavalcade of void licks at her steps, quiet. apprehension, worry - an impossible thing. in the deep corners of her brain, nerves alight to oscillate and cry electric, vigilant, and on guard - arraying the skin that had been the majority of her life. motoko knew little of them outside of their public image, the heroes, martyrs, idols of the free world - then abruptly cut short by scandal. it’s name ( overwatch! strong and valiant ) had reached her ears in the twilight hour; rumors of a supposed recall, a wistful little secret, tasting of carrion - unlikely.
unlikely, until one of the supposed heroes had requested, her, here. a shadowy arrangement, in the tangle of secret, seedy city - suspicion kneads and grows.
❛ someone paged me here. ❜ a murmur, assertive and purposeful.
swiftlystruck liked your post “Starter call!!!”
Smoke filters out from air vents, which is why he settled for being beside the vents as he looks at the streets from on top of a bridge, the sun setting. Tomorrow is the next job and so he would need to learn the surroundings a bit.
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@swiftlystruck
‘ you know, i wish i had died that day. things now would be.. easier if i was gone. ‘
@swiftlystruck
‘ i know you are not shimada gumi here to finish me off. ‘
there’s a tone of mocking in his voice, and it only comes across naturally. his hands rest quietly in his lap, glancing towards the cyborg near by. his hands ring together, the twist of a smile upon a wrinkled face.
‘ i see your brother couldn’t finish the job. ‘
“Personally, I think Genji should be able to sign Hanzo up for anything from here until the day one of them dies after what happened.”