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[It had been quiet again, Reaper having spent most of his time exploring and... meeting people.

Yet it rolls around 4am and there's only so much someone who doesn't sleep ~~much~~ can do to entertain himself—]

We're in a world where people wear crystals that collect liquid drops of the wearer's emotions. To keep them from dying.

When full some emotion creature absorbs them or something.

Is that kind of fucked up or not.

[Not that he doesn't agree that it's pretty fucked up, but 76 isn't really in a mood to respond.

He's just going to stick with his old standby; the silent treatment. There's not even a flicker on his end to acknowledge that he's heard.]

[Wow.

Wow.

Usually he gets something but this is not even some sort of eye-roll.

DON'T FUCKING IGNORE HIM ASSHOLE.]

Somewhere up there where it crystalizes people from other worlds at random.

Color coded emotion creatures.

[Ignore, ignore, ignore the buttmad psychopath~

Look you're the one harassing him in the middle of the night when he ~~can't~~ should be asleep. Now you're just throwing him things he's already mulled over, marveled about, and may be considering that this is just some sort of fucked up dream or hallucination or...something else.

It certainly doesn't feel real. So why's his amulet tinting a faded pink? He turns it over in his hands.]

Took you long enough.

[To figure it was fucked up, that is. His 'voice', as it were, sounds...flat, but it's the same tone that a certain Strike Commander would use when he'd been thinking too much.]

I've been busy.

[Strangely -to him- some fire had been knocked out and his own 'tone' was... dull. He did recognize that tone, and it took some thought to catch a few feelings before they could get through.

Well, the annoyance he let slip purposely.]

[He should ask what Reaper's been doing. Use this - and every other opportunity - as a chance for intel, to learn more about his modus. More for when he's eventually betrayed again, some paranoid voice whispers, when the truce they had shatters like the farce it was. There's no point to it now, isn't it? Reaper is no longer outnumbered, and in a one on one fight, he's just as capable as 76 is.

He should press this advantage Reyes has given to him. Even if he can't - won't - ever treat it as an olive branch, because it isn't one. There's never one. Not anymore.

He doesn't. He doesn't care. 76 grips his fist, hiding the crystal from sight as he closes his eyes and simply waits for Reaper to get bored and leave him alone.]

No suspicious questioning as to what I've been doing? What could exactly be keeping me busy enough that I've not bothered you for a while? That I'm simply just now voicing how strange those things are to you of all people?

Nothing?

[Well, something was wrong wasn't it. This wasn't how things had become.]

I'm almost disappointed. You're moping and hoping I leave you to wallow in your misery.

Why should I care about what you do?

[It's a response. Flat and yes, with a trace of irritation, but - let's look at this 'logically'. For now, the truce is still there. He's already mentioned before he doesn't give a shit. Last time he did go suspicious he essentially got told to reread a ~~book~~ brochure, so what's him asking about this going to do?

Hell, the only thing he'd ask is 'why are you doing this', but he's learned to not care about that, either.]

Why ask? It isn't like you ever did, Morrison.

[If he were another man he might care about the way Jack was acting, but that man was long dead. Left for dead and betrayed by people -and one specific man- he trusted and cared for like family. Now? Well.

He was bored, and this was an interesting turn of events.]

Yet you have made any business of mine your own, haven't you? Even when I wasn't looking for you, there you were some steps behind me and interfering with whatever job I happened to be out on.

Don't play dumb.

[Oh god are they really doing this. Are they really going to rehash this. Truly there is no god, because fucking why does he have to hear this bullshit over and over and over.

He rolls over on the bed, grabbing the nearest pillow as if it could help to block out the sound. It doesn't, of course. There's a muffled surge of anger, but it's more like a candle trying - and failing - to light itself as opposed to its usual indignant flare.

If Reaper wants to rant, let him rant. It's all old news to 76, and he's just going to continue walling himself off and deliberately Not Giving A Single Fuck.]

[There's actual laughter as he doesn't get a response, some sharp little twisting feeling just barely noticeable- at least it would be if someone wasn't trying so hard to Not Care.

A part of Reaper is enjoying this, drives him to keep poking.]

No argument? My, it's almost like someone has yanked the teeth out of an old dog.

I wonder, are you wallowing in self pity? Is this what you do, cold and alone at night, when you aren't fighting? Soldier: 76 is still very human, and he's a pitiful one at that.

[There's no reason to care. When an enemy taunts you, you ignore them; you're being baited, and you're being lured in to a trap. 76 has every reason not to care, and to let Reaper waste his time. If nothing else, it means he's not causing trouble elsewhere, doesn't it? And 76 can certainly take it.

Embers linger, and the room - color-bleached as it's become, with 76 unaware of it since he's not paying attention - begins to warm. The air moves towards stifling, as though the oxygen is slowly being consumed to leave behind a hard-to-breathe mass of heat.

He knows he's not in self-pity. He doesn't let himself stew in that sort of thing, it's pointless and a waste of time. He knows how to redirect his own thoughts in to things more productive, such as his next move or mission-

-but it's a little hard to consider those when the reason he'd been taking mission was to assist the other two. Another whisper- a reminder that he doesn't have anyone to assist with his equipment anymore. He's on limited ammunition, and every shot counts all the more. 76 takes this thought and follows it, forcing himself to go over his rationing style because it's hardly like it's the first time he's experienced that sort of thing. Thankfully, the only really worrisome thing are the rockets, he should be good with the pulse rifle's primary fire-

It gets just a bit easier to breathe.]

It's almost funny, but perhaps it's fitting for you to be left alone like this.

[Reaper had already left his own safehouse, leaving it secure with that small fluffball that was staying there with him. Moving quietly in the dark over rooftops, a route he knew well already being taken.]

She left first, didn't she? [If Jack Morrison ever cared about anything, it was his team. It wasn't just about getting a reaction now, and Reaper would deny it was about pulling Morrison out of his thought. Gabriel would be the one to do that.

Reaper was just hitting low.] Hard to miss that annoyingly bubbly Tracer has been gone-

But it's not just her, is it? The monkey, too. Grew attached to working with them again already, hadn't you?

[The air was already being starved of emotion. Some was there, but it was being managed - somewhat - through the mixture of apathy and whatever else he could do. But that mention of Tracer brings a spark to the flame-

and at Winston, the backdraft ignites.

There's a swell of anger, a possessive-like rage because how dare Reaper even mention either of them - and then it twists in to surprise. Not at Reaper, but at something else, something far more immediately urgent and pressing on 76's attention. This time, the lack of response has nothing to do with wanting Reaper to go away. It's of a danger presenting itself, and 76 needing to deal with that first before he can do anything else.]

[It was better than the nothing he'd been getting, there was no telling what that could do in a place that relied on emotions to not just function but keep the populace alive.

... Ignoring that it had been a sense of worry for someone he hated that drove him to push further than he might have. Jack wallowing in being left alone should be something he could enjoy, a taste of what he'd endured when he had been abandoned. Left to suffer by those he had once upon a time trusted with his own life.

It had cost him his life.

Which was not at all in Reaper's mind, since when he arrived at the location he knew that Winston and Tracer had been staying he hadn't expected to see fire inside. What the hell had jack done this time?~~them and any sort of burning building didn't go well together~~ Which had Reaper slipping inside the 'Overwatch Base' without much of a second thought. Easy as one, two, Shadow Step—]

[Experience has forced him to memorize a building's layout as quickly as he can. Where certain things are, such as medkits or, say, fire extinguishers. He'll thank Winston's memory later, but for now, first things first- sprinting back in to the room where the fire erupted.

The pin's already pulled. All there is now is to aim and spray. The fact that there's a black figure barely has a moment to register, but for a split second he writes it off as a trick of shadow and flame]

Jack—

[Next thing Reaper knows is he's getting a face-full of whatever the hell was packed into ye olde fire extinguisher in a steampunky emotional magic world. Thankfully the mask sort of

helps

prevent getting too much there but he still sputtered. Snarled a bit after.]

What the Hell, Morrison!?

[wait

what the fuck is he doing here? For a split second 76 wants to blame Reaper for setting this off, but - no. It's not his style.

Even so, he's still plenty ticked about all this. Entirely unamused, 76 raises the nozzle again.

Have some more you asshole. There's still some stubborn flames but they're nowhere near as intense as they were in the beginning - maybe the extinguisher wouldn't have been needed at all?

~~it's probably full of gears and made of brass~~]

W- [REALLY, MORE SPRAY?! Leaving a sputtering and ruffled Reaper standing there, trying to wiped some of the stuff off and... not too worried about breathing any of that crap in. Not at all.

Ugh, great, just great-]

Stop.

[FFSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHSHHHHHHSHHSHH

okay he stops. For the moment. Just long enough to give a burst to the pyre that was his pillow, rest in peace you poor piece of plush. That done, he turns his attention back to the home invader, his lack of mask revealing his none-too-pleased expression.]

Get out.

[Yyyep. That's an order.]

[Fucker.]

No.

[Dryly, paying more attention to where he was sprayed than the man who sprayed him. Of course he'd caught a glance at the pillow on fire and really? 76 did not give him orders.]

You set your bed on fire.

[Refuse a direct order and mock him losing his temper?

That's a ~~paddlin'~~ sprayin'. FSSHHSHHSHSHSHHSHHSHHHH and he'll stop after a few seconds, just long enough to get the point across. The nozzle remains raised.]

I said get out.

[And the moment Reaper answers anything but an affirmative, he's getting another spray. 76 can keep this up for a while, as long as there is spray in the extinguisher.

Another time he might smack himself for being wasteful, but fuck it. This is cathartic.]

[Well that's more ruffling and trying to just block that spray.]

I said- [FSSSSSSSSSSSSSFSSSSSSSSFSSSSSSSSSSH

He refuses to be beaten by a fire extinguisher. This motherfucker-] No.

[Even if he was wheezing and sounded like he was starting to cough, using both hands to try and block the spray from his masked face. What was this crap even made out of? Ugh.]

I'm not the [FSSSHFSSSSSSSSSSH] one who started a [FSSSSSHFSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSH] fire here!

[he's got you in his sights

76 seems pretty calm now. Fire? What fire? Furthest thing from his mind right now, this is better than the time he managed to convince Reyes to play paintball with him back during-

-well. He lowers the nozzle just a bit, tilting his head.]

This thing's only about a quarter empty. [Or it's got a quarter left. Who knows. The warning's there, anyway, and his intent clear; if Reaper opens his mouth again to protest, he's getting another spray in the face. As many times as need be until he gets the hell out.

...or until it runs out. At that point, though, 76 may just chuck it at his face.]

[He is Death.

Being sprayed with a fire extinguisher in the face, and actually making an effort to bite his tongue just to not give 76 the satisfaction of having a reason to spray him again. More so with that 'warning'.

So? Reaper crossed his arms and stood silent, head tilted to one side.

Refusing to leave all the while out of sheer petty stubbornness.]

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