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By the hands of the Gods, you have been plucked from your time and from your world, dropped into the box. Only the box is a world of its own.

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Private You're WHO???

Discussion in 'Cascade Bay' started by Fareeha Amari, Jan 7, 2018.

  1. Fareeha Amari

    Fareeha Amari Overwatch

    Posts:
    21
    Gender:
    Female
    Occupation:
    tbc
    Location:
    Pandora Town
    Race:
    Human
    Age:
    32
    Alignment:
    Neutral Good
    Fareeha had had a while to process the bomb that Reaper... Gabriel, had dropped on her. Just when she thought Angie missing was the biggest of her worries, Reaper revealed himself to be someone else she thought was long gone. A mentor of hers, someone that always had her back long before the army did. She wanted.... No... She needed talk to him.

    She had heard of him being sighted in Cascade Bay a few more times after she'd seen him that one time by the AirBase, so she flew around, hovering in dark places, where it might be easy to hide a shadow-like existence. Sooner than she was ready for, she saw a shadowed figure and swooped down. Her heart was racing, and hands clenched as she realised that it was him. The sharp, cold winter wind chapped her face as she flew a little too fast, but it didn't matter, she was too wrapped up in her own head and the man before her to even register it hurt.

    "WAIT!" she cried out,landing with a heavy thump, scrambling and touching his....hand? Her own passing right through it. "Gabriel, we need to talk. I need to talk. I looked for you, I thought you were dead!" She panted, and slowed down, unable to keep up with his wraith form. Suddenly it all made so much sense. She felt so guilty she hadn't seen it when she first met him, his shoulders were still the same, his movements, altered by the wraith form but not destroyed entirely, were still the same, just more pained, she thought. She should have known.

    "Please."
     
    Reaper likes this.
  2. Reaper

    Reaper Overwatch
    The grave cannot hold me.

    Posts:
    369
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    Mercenary
    Race:
    [REDACTED]
    Age:
    [REDACTED]
    Alignment:
    Neutral Evil
    Directory:
    link

    Reaper wasn’t sure why he’d returned to Cascade Bay. It was too risky, with Laufeyson breathing down his neck. Too risky to feed, too risky to do much of anything here, really. Darth Maul worked in these parts, and there was word of another rival gang making moves, and the last thing Reaper wanted was to get caught in the fucking crossfire.

    And yet, he was back here again. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to visit the old shack he and Lift had spent all those weeks in — he hadn’t taken down the rags from the rafters, the rags he’d hanged himself with, and he didn’t want to face that sight again, shame twisting in his gut — but his wanderings that night had somehow led him outside the bakery that Angela had stumbled on him at, all those weeks ago.

    His claw-tipped hand trailed over the brick wall, tracing the outline of hairline cracks. He’d punched this very spot, missing Angela’s head by mere centimeters. Not because he’d wanted to hurt her, but because he’d just been so furious over Jack’s self-righteous bullshit, he’d had to... he’d had to release that pent-up energy, somehow. But now all he felt was... tired... aimless, listless.

    What was the point in anything anymore?

    A loud noise startled Reaper out of his thoughts, a familiar noise. He spotted none other than Fareeha land in the alley from the corner of his eye, making him hiss in surprise. She lunged for him — for his hand, he realized — and he wraithed instinctively, his hand turning to faint wisps of smoke. He didn’t want her to touch him, he didn’t want her around at all. He was sick of ghosts from the past haunting him, sick of all these feelings he didn’t know what to do about anymore.

    And fucking hell, she knew who he was.

    “He is dead,” he snarled, backing away. Smoke clung to his form, responding to his emotional turmoil. How he hated the smoke, how he hated everything. Fareeha’s eyes were just... shit, they were so much like Ana’s now, he could barely even look at her anymore. “There’s nothing to talk about. Not anymore.” He couldn’t even bring himself to demand who’d told her of his true identity, not after... not after Genji and Jesse. At this rate, he wouldn’t be surprised if the Governor of Cascade Bay herself knew his old name.