tacticalvisor | IC Contact

[His grip on the extinguisher flexes, and he almost fires it off again- but no, that'd just be crossing the line. Reaper's...behaving. For the moment. Even if he does look utterly ridiculous drenched in foam and. Whatnot.]

So?

[Not like you to give a shit. Hell, he was certain that Reaper would dance if he saw Overwatch base's burning. Unless-]

You mad you didn't light it yourself?

[It's been established neither of them give a shit about many things, including each other. That's simply how it is; if it wasn't trying to rip the other apart and end them there was nothing.

... So.]

I don't care enough to burn some sad little excuse of a makeshift "Overwatch base" down. [So take that and shove it.]

[You know he really isn't gonna argue that this place is subpar. Winston and Tracer made it home, but they're not here anymore, are they? Just him.

...And Reaper.]

Then leave.

[If you don't give a fuck, you got no reason to stay.

If you do stay, you ~~care~~ have a reason.

Check.]

[Nope.

For a moment all Reaper did was wipe off a nice handful of that foam, glancing it over before flicking the stuff 76's way. The rest just falling away and leaving him clean of the stuff.

The floor around him wasn't as lucky.]

You can't tell me what to do, or order me around, Morrison. [He doesn't care.]

I came to see why you felt so surprised. Urgent concern. [Gesturing towards the

everything that had clearly been on fire.]

It would be disappointing for something else to do you in, even here.

[There's something to be said about his aim; even without his visor, it's not bad at all. He raises the extinguisher to catch the projectile, and by the time he lowers it, Reaper is...

...

Well damn that's a handy trick. Doesn't make up for the lack of ability to sleep that's been implied, but. He makes a note.]

Congratulations, you found out. Now you have no reason to stay, unless you decided to upgrade your nightly bullshit.

[He's gonna start sleeping with an extinguisher s2g]

So you can get back to your wallowing?

[That lonely in bed, Jack? Wow.

Why he's not leaving even Reaper wasn't sure. His curiosity had been satisfied and- Well, that was the only thing that had been satisfied.]

Nothing for my trouble of coming all the way over here? [Now he was just being a shit.]

[One, he wasn't wallowing. Two, if you want something for your trouble?

Okay really how could you expect anything but a FSSHSHSHSHSHSHHSHSSSSSSSS. He's even walking closer with the spray as cover, and you know what, for good measure?

For good measure? He's throwing a goddamn punch, right at Reaper's face. Fuck the truce, you deserved that.]

[The spray was expected, a hand only brought up to try and keep anymore of it from getting into the holes of his mask—

The punch? Not a complete surprise but not as expected, Reaper staggering back as something clattered to the floor. That bone-white mask just spinning around, his shoulders tensed and shadow pooling around his feet in wisps, curling around the edges of his coat and hood. Frozen where he stood

before Reaper was rounding right on 76, metal talons gripping that damned extinguisher to wrench the damned thing out of the old man's hands as he snarled, unfiltered without the mask, sharper teeth bared and eyes narrowed. Black smoke curling from pale and scarred skin.]

[ROUND ONE, VICTOhshit

It's not so much the ferocity; that's expected. His blood's up again, adrenaline fueling him in an instant, and he's more than ready to continue this fight. But what's under that mask catches him enough off-guard that his grip slips on the extinguisher, and he can't help but take a step back with a breathed curse]

Jesus, Reyes.

What?

[Teeth remained bared for a moment, head tilted to the side, eyes widening as a grin stretched a little too wide to be normal. Fire extinguisher dropped to the floor, tossed away like it was nothing. Taking a step closer as fingers flexed at his sides-]

This what you wanted, wasn't it Jack? Why don't you take a good look at your work, just what you did to me. [Talons reaching to grab hold of 76, just to drag him close if he had to.] May as well, right?

[Even if his mind needs a second to process, that's a second too long. Luckily, his body knows what to do when grabbed by an enemy, pulled far too close for comfort-

-instinct takes over, and the soldier doesn't try to pull away. Instead he moves with the motion, reaching to grab Reaper back, plant a leg between his, twist his body and throw. Ingrained reflex that he couldn't fight against if he tried.]

[It's easy to keep going with the motion, very aware of what was happening, laughter bubbling up from somewhere but bit back so it came out more as a low growl. During that throw all 76 would be holding onto within seconds would be smoke, twisting around and out mid-throw.

Pulling right back together into a solid form, teeth flashing in more of a baring than a grin. Talons dug into the floor as Reaper kept himself low for the moment.]

Still so easy to read.

[Is he, Reaper?

Is he really?

Because by the time the wraith reforms, 76 has crossed the short distance now without obstacles, and that is certainly his rifle he's grabbing and...not quite pointing at Reaper. The split second it would take to aim could be fatal, he knows that, but even so - he doesn't offer the threat. Something in the back of his mind whispers that Reaper could have taken him out easy-

-he dismisses it, growling softly. More at himself than anything else. He's better than that, this. He shouldn't have let himself get taken off guard, whether by Reaper's appearance or that...face...he wears underneath the mask.

Speaking of which. Since it just so happens to be close- he kicks it back towards him.]

We done?

[The air was heavy, chilled enough to caught breath to form mist, frost creeping outwards from where Reaper's shadows touched anything. Corner of his mouth twitching as a steady gaze rested on the armed old soldier. More than prepared to move if he dared—

The only thing that came was that mask skidding across the floor again, talons curling over it. Frost retreating as the air slowly warmed back up.]

Nothing, hm? [Standing tall, mask in hand, chin lifted as his gaze never once moved away. Voice dropped down into a more bitter tone.] You got a nice look at your handiwork. All that's left of the man you left to suffer.

We're done. I've gotten what I needed.

[The mask was moved back into place, hood tugged back into place and head tilted, hands spread outwards as shadows crawled upwards.] I'll be nice and allow the little truce to remain in place despite your aggressions, Jack. See if you can keep it up this time.

Enjoy the rest of your morning.

[Reaper was done, wraith form leaving through some crack under the door; a few fragrant petals left where he had been standing, along with a single frostbitten marigold.]

[oh, he's getting a good look. His eyes are locked on Reaper's face, that...visage of the man he once called friend. And he's swallowing down bitter memories of laughter, rivalry, and the way he saw it all those years ago when it turned on him-

He won't be baited. Not again. He won't react, won't let himself drop his guard. He did and he made a fool of himself, twice; fingers flex on his rifle, and as much as he wants to ask what did you need, why did you even come- he growls again, lowering the rifle a fraction of an inch.]

Says the invader. You've got no place to be self righteous.

[But then, neither does he. He watches the...smoke...leave, and only when the motion is gone does he drop his gaze.

...what even was this night.]

IC Contact

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Always Gotta Be Dramatic

no subject