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Entry tags:

overwatch: soldier 76

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Who: Reaper, Sombra, Soldier: 76
When: Post shadow plot
Where: Talon Tower and Old Morrison Farm
What: It is Time™
Warnings: Death

[Sombra]

[It has been days since Reaper has shifted his attention from the computer screens. There is a series of notes and proceedures outlined across the front of his desk, alongside an isolated serum of his mutated degeneration gene. If he had all of his cards in order, then soon it would be time to move.

He takes the vial, and his syringe the moment he hears Sombra ascending the staircase. His plan wasn't exactly a secret, but he also wasn't about to let anything fall out of place. Not when he is this close.]

Going out. Won't be back for a few days.

[Soldier: 76]

[The barn is quiet, has been quiet for days since his arrival. He isn't sure if Jack knows he is there again -- he wonders if he bothers to track his coming and going anymore. After all, he hadn't done anything particularly threatening in weeks, though he knew better than to expect Jack and Ana to let their guards down.

Still, he sits, and he waits, making no sound and causing no trouble. Regardless whether or not they would approach him on their own, he would make a point to be docile -- better to encourage an approach than attack them directly in their lair, where they could tag team him. If he waited long enough, Jack would have to address the barn eventually. Until then, he would sit and wait, syringe loaded near his wrist.

Ana's presence doesn't coax him -- in order to take care of her, he first needed Jack out of the picture.]

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[Jack is riding a little smug on the fact that the Ingress outage was little more than a hiccup, proving his decision not to evacuate the right one (or, at the very least, not a disastrous one). There's cleanup to do, sure, but the ultimate short-livedness of the inclement weather means that he'll have everything back to normal sooner rather than later. Normal, unfortunately, means something else, too.

When Reyes returns to the barn, he knows. He's quiet and otherwise unobtrusive, but Jack can't take that to mean anything, really. The last he's seen of him was when Jack was chasing Sombra off the property, but he's not entirely surprised that he finds his way back here after a few weeks of, well.

Doing whatever it is the two of them do, wherever they stay.

Jack knows that some kind of conflict is inevitable--he doesn't want Reaper in his barn, after all, which means he's going to have to fight him out, ideally before he gets down to whatever he's planning in there. He should bring Ana if he plans to confront Reaper directly (especially considering Sombra might also be in on it), but all of this has become a little bit played out. He waits for as long as he can, just to see how long Reaper intends to just kind of sit there, but eventually his impatience and paranoia gets the better of him. He gears up and heads out, making his presence known fairly quickly (not that Reaper won't see him coming).]

How many times are you gonna make me do this?

[Surely he has to be bored by now.]

Edited 2017-07-25 16:13 (UTC)

[Perhaps surprisingly, Reaper isn't hiding when Jack comes calling. Sitting up in the rafters, feet dangling over the side, he lifts his head only to see that Jack has come alone. Good. This would be quick and easy, so long as he hit his mark.]

As many times as it takes.

[He moves to stand, looking over Jack's shoulder. He had checked the cameras before he left, but it had been hours now.]

Where is Amari?

[That should be the first indication that something is off, really, but Jack doesn't think much of it, looking up into the rafters and folding his arms. He's still unaware of the surveillance system put in place, and it simply doesn't occur to him that it's what Sombra was doing when he found her on the property. Another mistake.

The biggest mistake, however, is the fact that he's come out here without Ana, and without telling her what he's doing. He's banking on the fact that she's in the house--could be here in a moment if he really needs, but he's also fairly confident that all he'll need to do is fire off a few rounds and chase Reyes off.]

Don't think that's any of your business.

[This can be, as it often is, between the two of them.]

You don't think much anymore, do you?

[Something shifts when Jack replies, chilly and bitter. No, he was probably right. Ana's whereabouts hadn't been his business for years -- until he had figured out she was alive again. Right now, it was his business. But that particular business could wait, until he dealt with Jack.

All he had to do was wait for him to reload that gun, and swiftly -- before the gunfire drew too much attention.

He draws his own alien weaponry, and fires a long range shot from his perch.]

[As always, he allows himself to hope for a second too long that this won't end in a fight, but of course it's a fight. It's the only thing they know how to do anymore, go back and forth with pointless skirmishes that don't resolve anything. Jack has already proven that he's not going to be able to kill Reaper, tipping his hand too early and putting him at the disadvantage in all subsequent fights.

He has to bank on the fact that Reaper might choke too, because Jack can't rely on an intervention every time they clash. Even then, all he's really doing is driving Reaper off to rinse and repeat the cycle.

What other choice does he have? Reaper levels the gun and Jack is immediately ducking out of the way, grabbing at his own rifle and returning fire. He's not exactly keen on shooting up the barn, but that's what's going to happen as long as Reaper holds the high ground.]

[He ducks around the storage up high whenever fire is returned. Once or twice, he can feel the sizzle of it cut through his armor, causing him to snarl and smoke. Counting the burst fire of Jack's pulse rifle is not easy, even knowing what he knows about his once-partner. But count he does, estimating where he fails to record, all while attempting to ensure he doesn't get too good of a hit in.

And when Jack gets close to the end of his clip, he finally descends, landing heavy on the barn floor.]

You had your chance.

[He taunts between his own shots, snapping his opposite wrist to pull the serum into his palm in preparation.]

You've had a lot of chances.

[A lot of chances, and he's missed every one because some stupid sentimental part of him still thinks he can pull Gabriel Reyes out of Reaper if he does or says the right thing. Tries hard enough. Like there's anything left to save. It's the stubborn part of him that throws himself in the line of fire over and over again, simply because he's convinced himself it's the right thing to do. Even now, he only shoots because he knows it does little more than drive Reaper back. Pulse fire won't kill him.

As soon as Reaper leaves the rafters, Jack abandons the gun instead of wasting time reloading. It doesn't do much anyway, and he's always preferred to go hand-in-hand against Reaper like this. Maybe it'll end badly for him, but Jack has never really been one to think things through in the heat of the moment.

This leaves him exposed to Reaper's own gunfire, which Jack tries to weave around in his attempt to close the distance. Of course, in doing so, he doesn't realize that he's doing a great deal of Reaper's work for him.]

[Once Reaper is moving, it is easy to forget who he is fighting. Focus on the mission, not on the target, not on anyone who stands in the way between him and the end. Not on Overwatch, not on Talon. Not on Jesse, not on Genji, not on Amelie, not on Sombra, not on Ana.

Only on Jack Morrison, abandoning his gun, and weaving to meet him in hand-to-hand. He pulls the trigger until the clip overheats, then drops the gun and moves to meet him.

Jack has the luxury of being covered in body armor and leather. Hitting his target would not be easy, but when had it ever been easy? Nothing in his long life had been simple. Zeroing in on the small area of exposed flesh at his neck was not his most difficult assignment.

He is careful not to crush the glass in his hand as he takes his other fist to swing at his visor.]

[It's nearly impossible to meet Reaper in close quarters without subjecting himself to buckshot, but it's nothing he hasn't dealt with a dozen times before, at this point. He does his best to weave around the shots, but Reaper, as always, knows him better than anyone else--where he will move, what he'll do. It's only his body armor and the thick padding of his jacket that keep him from taking the worst of the damage, but it doesn't cover him everywhere.

Still, Jack won't be deterred, not when the promise of hand-to-hand has him riding high on adrenaline. Very few people can take him on like this, and even with the very real possibility of injury and death, Jack jumps at the chance to unleash some of his pent-up anger on the man who ostensibly caused it. Reyes casting his shotgun aside only spurs him on.

He slams into Reaper with all of his momentum, not caring about catching the fist to his visor in return. It jars his mask, and as Jack stumbles backward, he's quick to tear it off and cast it aside--there's no reason to wear it between the two of them, not when Reaper's goal might be to shatter it.

Even dazed from the blow, Jack offers relentlessness in return, lunging to close the distance again and strike out with a punch of his own.]

[The metal spikes on the soles of his boots scratch deep rivets in the barn floor as he forcibly holds his ground to the weight of Jack colliding into him. He's almost surprised to see him cast side the mask so quickly, if only because it had taken him so long to realize he didn't need it in the first place.

He isn't sure if that is to his advantage or disadvantage, as some piece of him hardens when he is greeted to the pure fury in his old partner's expression.

It allows Jack to strike true with a too-late reaction from him, free arm coming up only to guide his fist directly into the jaw of his mask. His head snaps sideways, causing him to stumble his way into a leg sweep.]

[Jack remembers the first time he was seriously injured after leaving SEP--they'd all known about the accelerated healing factor by then, cuts and bruises from sparring and training all but disappearing within the span of hours, but it was quite another thing to take a bullet or break a bone and be up and walking within days. Feeling invincible was a luxury not quite afforded to soldiers (even super ones) fighting a world-ending crisis, but Jack had always been something of a daredevil. His own self-sacrificial nature and the ability to push himself past human limits only made it worse.

Compounded over the course of decades, the end result was a man who threw himself into the line of fire over and over again, simply because he knew he could take it. Overconfident. The more sensible part of him knows that he isn't twenty anymore and he shouldn't try and push himself to those limits, but he never exactly learned how to stop.

It's his knee that buckles. His fist connects, but the injury Reaper left him with months ago never quite healed the way it should have, largely thanks to Jack not letting it--pushing himself as if he still recovered like he used to. Unnoticeable day-to-day, aside from residual ache and the slightest hint of favoring his other side, but now in the middle of an actual fight with a fellow super soldier, it can't hold.

Jack staggers backwards, suddenly off-balance from the punch and Reaper's attempt to trip him up. He doesn't fall, but it's more than enough to leave him open for a few precious seconds.]

Edited 2017-08-01 03:00 (UTC)

[There's no hesitation in the way Gabriel bears down on Jack once he's bent the knee, grabbing his skull to wrench it sideways just long enough to slip the needle in his hand between the exposed skin of his neck. With all of his enhanced might, he holds him still until the syringe is drained of the toxic cocktail.

Finally, after months--years of careful tracking, planning, and waiting, he was going to kill Jack Morrison with the very same disease that brought him back to life. Slow. Painful. Except, so long as the aliens had done their job, Jack would not be coming back. If he wanted any mercy at all, he'd beg him to finish the job.

After the deed is done, Reaper abruptly releases both him and the syringe in favor of stepping back to observe his work. There's a expectation, a tension in his muscles that hints impatience. If this didn't work, he had nothing left.

If this didn't work, his life's mission would be a critical failure.]

[Jack isn't so far gone on adrenaline that he doesn't feel the sharp prick of the needle as it plunges deep into his neck. It's in that instant he knows he's gravely miscalculated--should have kept distance between them, should never have let Reaper get this close, because this was clearly his plan all along, more than evidenced by the way he steps back once the contents of the syringe are drained. The goal was not to fight him, but to get close enough to inject him with that , and Jack, as usual, was stupid enough to walk right into it.

He wonders, idly, if he'll ever be able to escape Gabriel's orbit that way. If trying to be one step ahead of him is just a thirty-year exercise in futility.

It doesn't hit right away, the serum needing a moment to penetrate deeper muscle, but as soon as it does, Jack feels it. There's a burning that radiates out from the injection site, and his expression is almost immediately screwed up in a combination of fury and confusion. He stumbles backward, bad knee still threatening to give out on him, trying to raise a fist in defense but finding it's better suited applying pressure to the spreading burn.

And the whole time, the look on his face saying it all--what did you do?]

[Its working. Its working.

For a moment, he just stands -- in shock, in awe, in relief, its impossible to tell with the mask and no minutiae of movement. Something inside of his head is pacing, waiting, urging him to get it over with now that his healing factor has been blocked out.

Instead, he approaches again once Jack's knee gives out, and drops to one knee himself. He can see the way his body rejects the pathogen. It had been years since he had seen Jack so close to death, too weak to fight back, held down by injuries too great to overcome. He had learned his limits in what felt like another time -- another life.

A life when Gabriel Reyes still found room in his heart for family.]

Doesn't feel so great, does it?

[For a moment he tells himself he can fight through this--that he's weathered far worse than strange injections and the residual discomfort, and in those split seconds it seems like he might actually try. The burning, however, spreads rapidly from the injection site, crawling under his skin and fanning out through his limbs in the pattern of his veins. It's through his whole body before he can even lunge forward, bringing him to his knees even as he reaches out.

When Reaper kneels too, Jack knows it's over. He wouldn't let his guard down like this unless he had some real advantage, and though he can't possibly know what he's been injected with, he can make a few educated guesses. Still, that doesn't stop him from choking out a question he's sure he won't get the answer to.]

What is this--?

[Or maybe he will get an answer, if Reaper plans to speechify. Seems appropriate, given the fact that he's more incapacitated by the second. It burns everywhere, now, pinpricks of sweat erupting on his forehead as his fingers scrabble for purchase.]

What did you do!?

You already know the answer to that question.

[But he will answer it, when he's done marveling at the fact that his plan had worked. Normally, he is used to his plans working, but they so often failed when he'd needed to rely on other people to assist him. For once, it hadn't been a problem.

Jack Morrison was being eaten alive by his own enhancements, just like Gabriel had so often been. When Jack finally finds his arm, Reaper reaches over to grab his wrist and effortlessly removes him, holding him uncomfortably at a distance.]

You couldn't finish the job. So I'm finishing it for you.

[Or, he will, once the enhancements have fully burned their way out of his body.]

Soldier: 76 doesn't exist without his enhancements. And without them, you can't fight that infection.

[He should be surprised, really, but it all makes more sense than he wants to admit. Of course this is how he'd go about it, when all other possibilities are exhausted. How do you kill a super soldier, when even dropping a building on them or shooting them point-blank isn't a guarantee?

You go right to the source.

Reaper doesn't need to say much more than that, though Jack isn't exactly in a position to stop him from elaborating. Despite his best efforts, he's losing composure quickly, the surge of pain suddenly overwhelming. Jack tries to wrest his hand out of Reaper's grasp and answer but all that comes out is an inhuman snarl, every muscle in his body spasming, causing him to curl in on himself with an anguished growl.

He doesn't know much about science--or about Reaper, or about what combination of the two could have done something like this, or what it's doing to him in turn. The logical conclusion is that if it's about his enhancements, well. SEP graduates were genetically engineered, fundamentally altered right down to their DNA. The serum must be, somehow, attacking him on that basic level, and the realization is horrific. Jack has always known that he and Reyes were going to kill each other eventually, but he hadn't exactly imagined something so one-sided--that he would die writhing, his own body turned against him.

There's so much he doesn't have the answers to. Not yet.]

Gabriel--

[Jack manages to gasp out the name of a dead man, knowing full well that it won't help him, but it's all that he can manage as another wave of pain courses through him.]

[To his call, Reaper stays silent. He could go on about how Gabriel was the name of a dead man, but he had already told his old friend that more times than he could count. At what point did it become truth, instead of him trying to convince the world around him?

Gabriel Reyes died long ago, it was true. But Reaper was only a mask. The truth was that he'd always been a demon. Special circumstances simply brought out the worst in him, and there was no way to put it back. Not anymore.

Even if he had wanted to stop everything (he doesn't), the damage was done. You don't just tear apart DNA and come back from that. Jack's death was certainty. He was simply savoring the last minute groveling he's been due. Eventually, he reaches over to place his hand on the other man's skull -- a gesture that might have been comforting, if not for the grip that followed.

Just a moment longer, and he would snap his neck. Quick, painless, unlike everything else he was going through.]

[Jack knows there's no real answer to be had, and he doesn't expect any second thoughts, either. He can't see Reyes' face behind the mask, but he can certainly imagine it, all hard lines and furrowed eyebrows, the look of someone on who isn't going to be deterred no matter what. He remembers the expression well--he's seen it dozens of times on military operations, rescue missions, in the dim emergency lighting of compromised Omniums, the shadows carving harsh angles into his face.

He thinks, maybe, that he misses the sight of it.

Everything gets worse with each passing second, the pain overwhelming him to the point of disorientation, and he has to marvel at how quickly the cocktail has done its job. The metallic tang of blood rises in his throat, and he manages the passing thought that massive internal hemorrhage makes sense as a next step, now that the drug has penetrated his system. He wonders how far this will go before he finally bites it, but he knows what that hand around his neck means. It seems a little uncharacteristic, that Reaper would put him out of his misery.

The thought of this being over so soon causes him to seize with panic (or maybe he's just seizing, Jack can't exactly tell), because he knows what's going to happen once he's gone. He remembers, vaguely, talk of people being brought back to life by the Ingress, but it can't possibly be a guarantee. Jack doesn't trust it, and either way it doesn't change what he knows Reaper will do in the interim.]

Don't touch her.

[Jack is out of time, choking out words through a mouthful of blood, desperately hoping there's some shred of humanity left in Reaper, if only so Ana can get out of this unscathed.

Any danger she and the others face after this is his fault. He's been so, so, careless and stupid.]

You got what you wanted. Leave her out of this.

( It's been a while since Jack had gone out -- since he'd had to check on a problem. Ana could have guessed exactly what that problem was, didn't need to guess what that problem was, and as such had made certain to check on him.

It isn't until Ana's rounding on the barn that she hears Jack's voice -- the pained tone, how he could barely speak. It makes her steps a little quicker to get there, though when the sight enters her vision...

She stops cold, gaze first on Jack, and then a quick, desperate search for Gabriel. And Ana's torn. She needs to help Jack, but with Gabriel there it could put her exactly where he wants her.

Take Jack out, take her out too.

This time Ana has a sidearm, something that she didn't have in their last encounter, and she reaches for it under her coat, firing a few shots in his direction. Either they can fight, or he leaves )

[Somewhere under all that brooding nature, Reaper scoffs. Short, caught between disgust and amusement.]

You've never had any idea what I've wanted.

[That is when he hears the shot of the sidearm, nearly buckling over Jack's slowly forming corpse as the bullets collide with his body armor. He's close enough to the other man for him to hear him growl in irritation under the mask, vibrating and barely controlled.]

Goodbye, Jack.

[And before Ana can interrupt him again, he gives a sharp twist of his arms to put the other man out of his hemorrhaging misery.

It is done as he stands and turns to face her, so she can see the smears of blood on his one arm, where it had fallen from Jack's mouth as he reached around his head. So that she can see that she is too late.]

[He remembers, in another life, being praised for the particular way he refused to quit--never gave up hope, he thinks is what Adawe said after the strike team overcame impossible odds. That tenacity served him well, sure, but over time it became a vice, like at some point he'd just forgotten how to hit the brakes. To give up is not in his vocabulary, but when he hears gunfire and sees Ana silhouetted in the entrance to the barn, something inside of him shatters. Anything that might have been called hope (not that he had much to spare) leaves him all at once.

Of course she came looking. It was stupid to come here without her in the first place, and now she has to see this--deal with the aftermath. He can't even pretend that Reaper will listen to him, because there's only one way any of this will end now that she's here.

Jack tries to tell her to go, but Reaper's grip is tight around his neck, and he's not sure he could get the words out anyway, even through the telltale pressure that lets him know exactly what's coming. There's an urge to squeeze his eyes shut in preparation, but he can't take them off her, expression almost pleading as his nails dig into Reaper's arm, anywhere he can reach, scrabbling for purchase as he loses his footing. All that he manages to get out is a choked noise in the back of his throat, his airway too full of blood to do anything more.

Don't do this, he wants to say to both of them, but can't. Reaper twists his grip and everything goes black.]

Edited 2017-08-03 21:27 (UTC)

( Ana knows what he's done before he turns, the motion being one she'd seen before. The confirmation-- it has Ana stepping forward, gun still levelled at Gabriel )

Why?

( Ana knows why. Their feud has been long standing, and she was a part of it -- connected by the two men, dragged in by both of them (and willingly fighting). Ana didn't need to ask why Gabriel had done it, but some part of her needed to hear him say it )

[There's some sort of relief, feeling Jack's weight fall heavy in his arms, but he is quick to turn away from it. He'd been carrying the weight of his murder for far longer than it took to actually kill Jack Morrison.

He watches Ana, waits for the gunfire he thinks must be inevitable. Instead, she tries to speak to him.

Hm.]

He made a choice.

[The silence that hangs after says So did you. But he doesn't act on it. He'd done what he had come here to do -- the truth of the matter was that he hadn't decided what to do about Ana yet. His normal response would have been as it was with all other ex-Overwatch agents.

Kill her. Leave her body for someone else to deal with. But Ana wasn't a normal Overwatch agent, just as Jack's continued status as a living man was an assault on his person. She was collateral damage, a long standing piece of what finally broke his tenuous relationship with Overwatch as a whole.

So instead, he waits for her to make another choice. He appears unarmed, save for the long bloodstained silver claws on his gloves. Does she attack in the memory of a dead man, or try and preserve something that no longer existed and allow him to leave in peace?]

( Appearing unarmed and Gabriel being unarmed are two completely different things. Her gun doesn't waver, and though Ana shoots her shots aren't intended to kill. She's not here for revenge, and it would take more than her sidearm for this.

Instead she wants him gone, hopes that the shots send him away. If it comes to more... here she has nothing to lose )

[He snarls something awful, a combination of anger, pain, and maybe just a little betrayal. No, he never really believed Ana would take his side after spotting her in Egypt. But somehow, knowing that she knows what happened to him--

He knew, and he had come to terms with it, but somehow it still hurts.

His limbs smoke from the connection of the bullets. For a moment, it looks like he might advance, shoulders squared and fists clenched. But he had made a decision already, before he had come to finish the job. Ana deserved to feel every ounce of betrayal that he felt. She could live, holding Jack Morrison's dead body for as long as she needed to before realizing that he was gone.

She deserved it -- long ago, it would have been nightmarish for him. And Ana feels twice as much as he. Let her heart rot.

Reaper turns, and leaves them both behind.]

Finally going for it?

[It's a shot in the dark: considering how miserable he's been— how he'd only willingly roamed outside his own, brooding borders when pushed to— finding him suddenly on a mission seems to point to only one thing that she can think of.

She sits on the last step when she reaches it, tucking her chin in her palm while she waits for a response.]

[He starts to pack a small bag. Some long-range binoculars, a bit of rope and a knife, and some cartridges for the alien weaponry he had picked up.]

Can't wait anymore.

[All the recent happenings indicated that time wouldn't wait forever. If he didn't test this poison now, he might not ever get the chance to take Jack out again -- and there was no guarantee it would even work.]

Waited too long as is.

You want me to go with you?

[Relaxed when she asks, like he's going to the store to pick up milk and needs company. Like he isn't about to murder an enemy she isn't certain he can live without.

—which might be the real reason why she's asking him in the first place.]

[There is a momentary pause, where Reaper tries to decide if he's angry with Sombra for her question. He's always said that she isn't quite as clever as she thinks she is, and he can see right through that question.]

You think I am going to run into trouble?

[May as well see if she'll spit it out.]

Tal vez.

[As though saying it in spanish will somehow make her more unreadable, Sombra shrugs her shoulders. Tips her chin up to level a more direct stare.]

You think you can really handle putting him down?

I made him.

[He stops packing in the interest of turning around to face that stare directly. He doesn't always expect Sombra to cooperate, but by now, he would have thought that she would trust him. Even with this.

Especially with this.]

Of course I can put him down.

[Normally she would trust him— but there's nothing normal about how ragged he looked when she first showed up: how the idea of hunting Morrison was all that seemed to be keeping him stitched together.

She's not apologizing for thinking without it, he might fall apart.]

Guess that leaves me holding down the fort.

Ideally.

[He is not disillusioned with the fact that Sombra is in new territory, with new friends to make. In truth, he has less to offer without his connections to Talon, and he had been banking on comfort keeping her close.

He turns back to packing.]

Can you handle that?

Looks like we'll both have to wait and see.

[Whether she leaves their base intact, whether he can handle it— it's like a world of discovery for the two of them just waiting to be unearthed.

Or a disaster in the making.

~~Probably the latter...~~ ]

[Asking him to chose between his revenge on Jack versus a base of operations, Reaper might have made a different choice shortly after his arrival. But its been months of close contact with people he'd never planned on seeing, let alone being cordial with for an extended period of time ever again.

He would much rather risk his home than give up his chance to eliminate Jack once and for all.]

Were you ever capable of keeping yourself from causing undue mischief?

I joined Talon, didn't I?

[Whether that's a yes or a no...

Well, maybe it's a bit of both. Either way, she's got a place to be, and a certain set of objectives that come along with the literal territory, and a set investment in her only real— trustworthy— ally in this place.

Gabe might not realize it, but she doesn't want his story to end here. If she had, she would've left him in the miserable state she'd found him in; wouldn't have dug her fingers into Jack Morrison and Ana Amari's business to a point of near-compromisation.]

Is that supposed to answer my question?

[How many times had he told her to focus on the mission? He's still convinced that she'd helped Volskaya escape somehow, though he has no real proof. There was always reason to suspect that Sombra wasn't always working with Talon's best interests in mind.

But she was also an extremely valuable asset on her own, so he isn't about to press the issue.]

No.

[She curls her lip for punctuation, eyes narrowing by satisfied little degrees. Pushes off from her perch, slipping over towards her surveillance setup, activating it with the press of a few holographic buttons.]

But some answers don't come easy, mijo.

[With that, she turns away. Goes back to flipping through active footage in a way that's telling— if he thinks about it: she'll be watching. Just like always.

His virtual shadow, whether he likes it or not.]

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D E A T H. C O M E S

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cw: needles

cw: a terrible and protracted death

RIP

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walks in late with-- i leave you alone for two minutes

(cw: necksnap) ITS NOT WHAT IT ok yes its exactly what it looks like

rest in pepperonis

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