memepatheias | TEST DRIVE: June

Entry tags:

*test drive

TEST DRIVE: June

— TEST DRIVE: JUNE —

Welcome to

empatheias' test drive meme. This test drive is to help interested players test their characters in the game's environment. We've included a few prompts that incorporate specific elements of the game, though you'll find all of them have a lot of leeway for players to get as creative as necessary. Before diving in, here are a few things we'd like to remind everyone about the game in general:

Date reminders. Reserves open 25 May and Applications (Canon | OC) open a week later on June 1st. Reminder: Our application cycle only lasts four days.
OC Reminder! Just a quick reminder that original characters are allowed. Those interested can also use the test drive. OCs do not need to be reserved.
Emotions are key! Empatheias' premise focuses on how anyone's emotions can affect their environment, be it big or small. While not every emotion will cause a reaction, significant ones definitely will. How much effect a character will have will ultimately be up to you, the player. Also, while we're giving a lot of leeway for the test drive, keep in mind that there will be some limits in the actual game.
Everyone has an amulet. All characters have a unique amulet that is specialized for them. It will contain all of their emotion drops and it serves as the network device. Remember, communication is telepathic. Otherwise, it works basically the same.
Assume the character is already in the game. Because "OMG WHERE AM I IS THIS REAL LIFE" threads aren't going to be very helpful in this test drive! Plus, those are going to happen in-game, anyway. So to make things easier, just assume that they've been around at least a week or so. Still learning the ropes, but not a complete "first day" experience.
First or third person allowed. Your threads can be in either first or third, but we'd advise being flexible about it. Remember, these threads can also be used in your application for samples! Reminder: We only require one sample and it can be done in either format. We have also made a change to our sample requirements, so look over the Applications page!
Transfer to in-game. If accepted, you can assume threads made on the Test Drive happen in-game if the scenario can reasonably fit. For new characters, these threads do not count for activity check. However, these can be supplementary threads for players already in-game.
For your threads, put the Character Name and the Canon in the subject line to help readily identify them. You're also welcome to use more than one prompt for respondents to choose from. If you have any questions or want to brush up on the game information, refer to the Game Information entry. Otherwise, tag around and have fun!

Now with that out of the way, here are some prompts you guys can work from!

PROMPTS

• Prompt A: How about giving the emotions a try?

• Prompt B: Refer to the Task Board and choose a task your character may be interested in taking up. For this prompt, you could have your character ask for help, already be in the middle of the job, or react to it in some way. Perhaps they were an unfortunate victim or want to create a job countering an existing one. You could even have a prompt making a job request. Creating jobs for the purpose of the test drive is absolutely doable.

• Prompt C: How about giving the amulets a go? Start a telepathic conversation and see how it works. Remember, the amulets are sending out the owner's thoughts so might want to be careful about how the stream of consciousness goes...

• Prompt D: Empatheias seems to love festivals! Every festival is always filled with so many people - whichever city might be celebrating it. However, the next coming days has Verens filled with people from all over the world. The Nightingale, as most people know her, is a travelling Fortune Teller who has decided to pass through Verens for a few nights. As such, she's set up a booth. She will tell the fortune of whomever wants it for only 10 Sylvs.

Apart from being able to see one's future, The Nightingale also sells various wares that would improve one's luck, one's love life, one's career, and the like. Buying a blue adamantium bracelet is said to triple one's bank account, while buying a red feather hat would give its wearer more opportunities to meet new people. Just about every item for every possible effect can be found in The Nightingale's Shop, and everything is limited edition! Perhaps one may want to try purchasing an item and see what happens.

• Prompt E: Rumours are going around about how The Nightingale’s fortunes and her charms are effective. Verens is abuzz with stories such as that man who stumbled upon some spare Sylvs while wearing one of The Nightingale’s pendants, or a shopkeeper whose profits shot up threefold in a week after she paid the fortune teller a visit. Everyone’s horoscopes as told by The Nightingale, even those as specific as, “You will accidentally run into a wall in the next five minutes” or “You will be unable to control a particularly odious fart while you are walking with a good friend”, are coming true. A strange phenomenon, to be sure, but those who are perceptive and diligent enough may notice that a person’s emotional state might just have something to do with how fortunes come true. Persons dominated by negative emotions receive negative fortunes, and so on.

• Prompt F: Some of these fortunes sound just a little bit too good, don’t they? And the frequency with which they come true is suspicious on its own. How could the Nightingale be so precise and accurate in all things? Well, as it turns out...she’s not so precise. Or, at least, not in actuality. Her fortunes and charms are, in fact, powerful spells that fool those under their influence to believe they are coming true, when they are, in fact, not. Once she begins to pack up to leave town and head to her next destination, charms will begin to break, bank accounts will fall back to their normal numbers, and newly-found sweethearts will find their eyes unclouded. Will you stand for this trickery?

If confronted, the Nightingale will reveal her true form as a powerful demon witch. She will not hesitate to attack those who provoke her, and her offensive spells are powerful enough to turn friends against one another. Avoid her magical blasts and aim for the talisman she carries! Once the talisman is broken, the Nightingale will disappear in a puff of smoke...but at least she seems to leave behind all the sylvs she collected while in town. Maybe your fortunes aren’t so bad after all...

• Prompt G: Make your own! It could include seeds and/or spoons.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Soldier: 76 moved carefully, aware that Reaper could be in any one of the shadows. His gaze moved for any that happened to be moving unnaturally in the light breeze the filtered through the trees. His tactical visor picked up the sudden blast of flame, and he automatically turned his attention and fired a helix rocket immediately, which exploded into the churning flames.

The hairs on the back of his neck rose and he twisted as Reaper suddenly came for him, melting like smoke from the shadows. This time he was ready for the other man's tricks, flipping the rifle around as a claw landed on his arm, but he used the rifle like a baseball bat to swing it hard through the area that Reaper was forming up.

The knee connected, and pain lanced through him, opening the grudgingly healing lacerations on his side from the force. He twisted away, trying to keep his rifle in his grip, not that it mattered. He'd beat Reyes into the grass if he had to.

This was very different from the confrontation in Cairo, because there was nothing but silence from Reaper's end the moment he appeared. No words or even snarling, half tracking the movement of the pulse rifle as he didn't give space. This time he was pushing himself forwards, ignoring the bat of the pulse rifle as he had instead moved right through it as if he weren't solid at all.

There were shadows curling upwards and still going after the pulse rifle itself, streaked with those same red and purple streaked flamed coating them. Wanting to coil around the weapon and jerk it free. Didn't care where it landed.

Reaper's focus was 76 himself, already having his feet under him and aiming a right hook for the old soldier's jaw. Didn't care the mask was still there, was not bothering to hold back, damn well aiming to get rid of the damned thing as soon as possible. More smoke curling from his form than there had ever been, as if he were having trouble keeping himself solid- even if that hit would feel damn well solid should it connect.

It was playing out rather differently, but the means and the end were the same in his mind. His problem was that Reyes was far more... smokey than he recalled and seemed to be all over the place rather than a set target that he could strike at. From his experience, Reaper easily kept a particular form at will, but this was a bit more a struggle.

He ended up losing his grip on his pulse rifle, but he kept track of where it ended up in the woods because he was definitely going to make a go for it when he had more room to maneuver himself.

He rolled back on his heels to avoid to hook, lashing out with a one-two punch combination of his own, one for Reaper's white bone mask and the other for some ribs. He wasn't pulling his punches at all even as he took a step back to allow himself more room so as not to get tangled up with Reaper. Unlike Reyes, he was growling like a threatened dog the whole time.

There was no willingness to give in any sort of room, even if it meant taking a hit or two, pushing forward in silence as his head tilted, aiming to give right back. More smoke and shadow than solid man, not even staggering back at the hit to the mask, no sound made to the ribs; no rush of hair or anything.

Didn't bother trying to dodge fists, diving right back in with his own, aiming for chest and face as he went for a one-two sort of hit. Those tendrils keeping the pulse rifle, sticking it up in some tree so no one could get to it easily. No one could run away with it either if there was somehow more than just them out here at this time. Deal with the pulse rifle later.

What he wanted was right in front of him, and actually seeing him made it that much easier to pull focus. Cling to that anger on top of hurt and everything else that he couldn't fan up just speaking over the amulets. An ungodly sort of hear rising despite the frost quickly starting to flare out from where he was, icing over the ground in something black and frigid. Flares of red in it as frost thickened in to ice.

Soldier: 76 had fought Gabriel Reyes in all of his forms before. When he was fresh from the SEP, when he was Commander of Overwatch, when he was Commander of Blackwatch, and even when he had become Reaper, but none of those experiences had been like this. There was a distinct lack of care for any amount of self-preservation, no ducking or dodging, no taunting. It was eerie, even if he wasn't off-put. The differences made him suspicious rather than curious.

It felt like when he punched, he struck solid person, just as when he took a blow it felt like it was coming from a solid person. They exchanged blows like they did when they were furious at each other, laying into one another with punch and kick after another, but there was the other element of what was going on. Ice.

He suddenly moved to kick Reaper hard to be forced away long enough that 76 could try to turn and take two giant steps necessary for any kind of running leap as he moved for a nearby tree to launch himself up it and then across the distance for his pulse rifle. Leaving himself open for an attack blow, but his hands reached for the weapon all the same.

The ice formed that much more quickly than the frost had, thick and black and so very slick as it covered the forest floor, reaching outwards and even covering a few trees. Twisting them in to something death-like, as if flames were tearing through rather than ice. Made the ground to be solid and slick where it covered.

Reaper slid back on the ice for only a second before is boots dug in and caught traction, shattering beneath his own boots as it chased after 76, to make every move of his iced and slicked to make it that much more difficult.

Yet he didn't stay there, already vanished in to the shadows, ripping himself back in to a solid form to grip the front of 76's jacket and shirt, stopping him just from reaching the pulse rifle and fling him back towards the solid ice of the ground. Not just thrown him, but Reaper moved to bodily slam him down, taking the both of them down as even then there was still no snarl. Only smoke and a freezing sort of cold to his grip, aiming to slam the other man down beneath him in their landing.

This had never happened before, and while he was daunted, it simply meant that he had to change tactics in order to prevent slipping and sliding around. He could hear the ice cracking, and his boots struggled to find footholds, but he succeeded in flinging himself bodily across the distance.

His fingers strained to grasp the pommel of his rifle, but his momentum abruptly changed when Reaper's claws found his jacket and whipped him towards the ground. He kicked out, but it was too late for him to salvage a wild grab for his weapon. He felt the cold along the skin of his forehead, but it wasn't until he landed down on the ice and felt it crack under his back that he knew this wasn't some kind of illusion.

He inhaled sharply as Reaper slammed him into the cracking ice, leaving a smear of black blood as he twisted and writhed to dislodge Reyes' position on top of him. He swung his fist hard at that face, trying on several quick jabs to push that mask right into Reyes' face.

Unlike 76, Reaper could gain purchase on the ice with ease since it was his own, something he was very much using to his advantage to move. Used it to make himself quicker, skating along almost until he had vanished to snag the other out of the tree. That pulse rifle was going to remain there until they were done here, because he was already going with his want to not bother with his shotguns.

That would drain 76 far too quickly at this point, and he wasn't trying to kill him; the draining of emotional energy was far more dangerous here than the life drain of home. It would make him care less about what was happening and Reaper didn't want that.

The ice crack and split, spiraling in some pattern or other from where the two had hit hard, but Reaper did his damnedest to stay on top. There was no fear of water under the ice, all of this was on solid ground, just the biting cold that emanated from it. Mask splitting and breaking from the hits, a bit of blood trickling from his nose and lips behind it, but it didn't stop him. Eyes narrowed even as part of his face was exposed, not a damn word—

Claws flew to Jack's mask instead, metal claws easily applying pressure where the visor and mask connected and just letting it pop loose, some burst of shadow knocking it aside to slide across the ice before Gabriel wound back to deliver a solid damn punch to an exposed face.

With them being engaged close quarters and that being obvious what Reaper wanted at this point, Soldier: 76 was more than willing to use his fists and feet in order to take a toll on the other man. While the ice was new and definitely not what was expecting, he had been a soldier long enough to adapt within a combat situation.

The ice had been thick enough at the point of impact that cracking through it meant that he was in a broken uneven dome of it. That allowed Reaper to keep the top position as he couldn't easily roll out of it. His body would compensate for the cold. His fist slammed into that mask rather than trying to tear it off. It split and fell away in pieces, and he could look up into the face of someone he had never believed was dead for an instance. It was the first time he had seen any part of Reyes' face since the fall of Overwatch.

He kept pulling his fist back and impacting on that face, drawing blood while the other tried to keep a firm grip on Reaper's coat (not that it logically mattered when the guy could turn to smoke). Yet, his punching hand snapped to try to catch his visor, surprised that the latch had been popped - like Reyes knew what he was doing - but it was swept away from him.

Momentary surprise lit his features before his eyebrows drew down and his own emotions raced back to the surface. He took the first punch right square in the face, knocking his head back on the ice. He released Reaper's coat to try to catch that wrist to prevent another blow while he threw a hook back, aware they were going to exchange blows in such close quarter situations.

Reaper was just as deadly at close quarters was he could be at a distance or just his shotguns, but he didn't want any of that. It was almost as if he needed some solid proof this wasn't some new bullshit thing, that this asshole was really here and not- It wouldn't have been the first time this place had fucked with his head. A voice in his own mind, even if then he was off island for it all.

Things happened even up here, like the time Ana had been turned in to little more than some obsessed zombie of sorts because the damn giant love and hate bird had gotten overly lovey. Who was to say the mountain crab wasn't pulling some shit now? All the more reason to lure 76 to him, if it really was him, and get that damned mask off. Do whatever he could to figure out if he was flesh and blood real and not this place playing tricks.

The mask coming off gave him time to see that face, take advantage of the hesitation to see if there was something wrong or missing. The punch made it damned clear it was solid there too. Not something or someone else entirely lured here.

Gabriel took the hit with only a slight turn of his head, using his thighs to keep a hold of Jack beneath him as it was his other fist that went to take another punch. Didn't care how much his nose or lip was bleeding, how smoke curled from his form. Lips curled back to bare bloodied teeth all the same, even if he remained silent. Something other than anger in those eyes of his, but he wasn't making himself stop. Far more vicious than he would have usually been, knew as soon as he stopped he might not be able to get started again.

Unlike Reaper, Jack was all in, ready to lay it all on the line for a rematch and not even caring that it could cost him his life. In this place, what else did he have left but this? They didn't even need to talk, didn't need to snarl at each other, and it was fine by him to use physical action to make a show and a mess of things between the two of them.

His nose was bleeding with the impact, and there was radiating heat of pain from the punch, and he knew that he was at a disadvantage in the current position. He was more easily deflected, more easily pinned and wailed upon. Reyes had always been physically stronger, but 76's advantage was in agility and endurance. Right now, Reaper had full advantage. That had to change.

He scrabbled his heels against the ice, trying and failing to find purchase on the surface before he began to ram his knees hard into Reaper's back to try to force the man's balance forward. At the same time, he was trying to keep Reyes from punching him in the face, wrestling for a firmer grip on Gabe's wrist and then he twist and thrashed to try to launch Reyes right off of him.

"You thick son of a bitch!"

Those were words that- weren't quite snarled, but more as if they were ripped from somewhere deep when he ended up going head over heels despite how he had fought to stay where he was. Arm ripped one way and thrashed right off. Claws digging in to the ice and catching himself before he went too far, already aiming to get his feet back under him so he could launch himself right back at Jack.

Spitting blood to the side, it hitting the ice as those odd red swirls opened up like a great many eyes in some odd design under the black ice. Letting him get his grip back, lunging for him once more with claws aiming to grip in to that jacket again.

Soldier: 76 frowned at the words that finally spilled from Reaper's lips; it wasn't the words so much of the tone they were spat from. Like something wounded had been pulled out and given a voice. There was no time to think of them as he flipped Reaper right off of him, and he was immediately rolling over in his crater of ice so that he could regain his feet with the upheaved surface. He left behind a blackened smear in the ice, but he wasn't even paying attention.

He had eyes only for Reaper, his expression hard and cold, like this was all he had left. So when Reyes lunged, 76 was ready for him, twisting to the side as he whipped an arm out to try to catch Reaper in the throat while the other went to Reyes' hip to upend the other man right over into the ice.

One set of claws twisted in to that jacket, the other going for the arm that had caught him in the throat, twisting at the wrist while he hooked a leg around one of 76's. Determined to at least take the man down with him, not about to leave just one of them standing in any way above the other. No, he refused to do anything less than dragging the man right down with him.

"Of course it had to be you," He was finally talking again, that same tone to his voice as he thrashed in his own way. "And you don't even know what you've done- you don't know a goddamn thing!"

Wouldn't really even know what he was talking about, or why his voice sounded so very pained rather than angry or venomous- not even taunting with how deep of a hurt it came from. Why the ice was less slick and solid, almost more an oddly dry slush than anything else that they'd end up falling in one way or another.

His fingers closed tightly on Reaper's throat, using that advantage to keep momentum up even if he could tell the grip that was returned on him was no easy escape. He tried to untangle their legs, but he ended up only tripping them both harder, but this them he lunged so that he could retain the top position at first, even if it would be a struggle to keep it.

They went down hard together, Reaper's words flowing now and they were confusing enough to defuse some of his immediate anger. He remained mute, which was unlike him, but he figured keeping silent would annoy Reyes more than if he shot his mouth off in this situation. He was now expected Reaper to talk himself into a hole.

He noted the change in the ice, how it was wet and slushy when they landed, but he shifted his position to sit and draw his legs to hook his knees to Reyes' hips and splay his legs for maximum balance. His hand remained firm on the other man's throat and he raised a hand to punch Reaper in the face all over again.

However, he hesitated. Reaper had never expressed... broken emotions like this before.

The silence didn't annoy him, no, but it did drive in that much more something he'd already known the moment he'd been so very sure what was going on. That this was Jack, and he didn't remember anything of this place, and it twisted in a way he'd thought he'd been prepared for, but it was so much easier to tell himself that than actually be. Nearly three years here, having been here with Jack and this—

Hell, he'd expected it. Really, he had. Knew that it was more than likely there'd be nothing than the old animosity he'd gotten so tired of, that he couldn't do again after a breaking point had been reached.

So even as he glared and kept that tight grip on 76's wrist, claws digging in a little but never breaking skin. Nose bleeding and lips swollen with cuts of their own bleeding as well. Glaring up at him with bloodied teeth bared but those were tears welled up in his eyes, other hand already lifted to try and deflect—

"It's not a goddamn bit fair I can't even be mad at you for it! It's not fucking—" Steam was rising from the slush of ice and frost, "Nearly three goddamn years and you—"

He wanted to be angry, be furious. He wanted to keep punching him, hitting him. Anything to get something more than this.

There was a whole lot of extra going on with Reaper, and he couldn't fathom what that might be because the Reyes he had fought in Cairo had taken pleasure in besting him, in rubbing his face in the sand, in trying to murder him. It burned him to have been taken by surprise then, but this... wasn't the fight that he expected.

He had come here to kill Reaper, but instead, they were back to fist fights. The problem was that for all that hated Reaper, he knew Reyes better than he liked to admit, even now. He knew when the grief and pressure was too much, when the man was coming apart at the seams. Years of fostering a suspicion Reyes was alive, then finding out it was true and now... this.

He sat up in his position, wet slush soaking into the knees of his fatigues, and he dropped his hand from where it was poised to punch Reaper in the face again. He turned his face away, lips twisting into a deep frown as if he were witnessing something wholly private.

76 tried to twist and wrench his wrist from Reaper's grip, wanted to stand up and abandon this. Fighting a broken man wasn't in the cards today. He'd rather jump off the edge of the city and be done with it.

"You don't get to walk away from me," He was keeping tat tight grip of 76's wrist, twisting them to yank him downwards in his attempt to stand, face first in to that slush if he needed to. "Don't get to act like you can just up and leave—"

There may have been tears, but there was a surge of that anger again, just a different form of it as Gabriel reached for 76's throat instead, going past punching and instead damn well not about to let him leave. Not after so much shit, even if he didn't remember.

"Why don't you fucking do what you came out here to do! Don't act like you can't! Don't act like it fucking matters!"

He snarled and tried to keep his position, but he happened to be in the mid-point of shifting his balance backwards when Reaper ripped him forward. He slammed a hand down beside Reyes' head to keep from landing face first in the slush, but he was awkwardly back on his knees with his one hand still in the other man's grip.

Soldier: 76 made a noise when his throat was seized, curling a scarred upper lip in a faint snarl. He rolled his weight more onto his knees, having to bow his back to accomplish it so he could lift a hand out of the slush and seize the wrist of the hand around his throat in an attempt to pry it off.

His emotions were mixed, seeing a side of Reyes he considered dead but was also deeply personal. His anger was pushed down, replaced with something uncomfortable.

"Let me go. Now," he snarled softly, his voice rough with disuse. "You let me up, I'll grab my rifle and put you out of your misery." It was an empty threat; he had no plans on shooting a broken man; on some levels, he wasn't even hiding that he didn't intend to go through with it.

His grip didn't tighten, but it didn't loosen either, keeping his hand locked in a way on both wrist and neck, some trembled in his hands but there was no weakness to it. Gabriel Reyes had always been deadly up close, but there was no threat of it despite how he held on to 76 at that moment. Just a refusal to let him leave at this point.

"You think I will? What reason do I have, you thick headed jackass?"

This place had changed Reaper, and had brought out far more of Gabriel than he had bargained for himself. Things he thought dead and buried when he set himself on his path of revenge and putting an end to something for good. This complicated things so much, and he couldn't help but wonder if it would be a relief to be rid of it once back home, or if it would be just another loss that he wouldn't remember.

Teeth bared, no matter if the tears still fell, "Liar."

He tried to pull his neck out of Reyes' grip, but he ended up making a gagging sound instead. His grip shifted up to make an attempt to pry at Reaper's thumb, to open up that grip enough that he could pull back and maybe, just maybe, walk away. He was already getting the impression leaving was going to create another fight.

"What benefit is it to keep me here in a choke hold?"

He shifted his footing, trying to find purchase so he could also try to wrench his throat from Reyes's grip. Unfortunately, ice was even more slippery when wet, and he ended up losing his brief footing and toppling completely to land hard on Reaper.

That gave him a bird's eye view of the tears. He had seen Reyes cry twice, but this definitely took the cake. He wasn't expecting this to be so uncomfortable. Was he supposed to comfort the man he had come here to kill?

"I'm not him, not who you had for three years..." He was trying his luck verbally, which was strange. That wasn't how he won fights anymore. "...you gonna try to make me replace him?"

"What benefit is it to act like you were coming out here to kill me and then don't?"

That had a hiss of venom to it, but it was weak and forced, tired as he was of it all. Of even so much as looking at 76's face at this point. Had already proven the point Gabriel had wanted to prove to himself, that he didn't remember. That none of it mattered and for the most part never really had, easily as it was just wiped clear like that.

Why the fuck had he bothered trying in the first place if he knew this was going to be one result?

He practically shoved 76 off of him and away, that hand slipping down from his throat and to his chest, Reaper not bothering to get up. Some broken bit of laughter. "How little you've always thought of me." There it went again, but that voice was tired, smoke curling as that coat of his was fading from tail up. "I knew you didn't remember the moment I figured out it was you. I just needed to see it for myself, prove how pointless this entire fucking place is."

"I was going to kill you, but then you went all..." Soft probably wasn't the word to be spitting out at Reyes, but it was true. He didn't shoot broken men; mercy killing had never been his way.

Was that what this was all about then? His anger had been used as a lever so that Reaper could draw him in, assess if he was anything like the other version of himself that had been here and now had no memories of. That was just like Reaper. He shouldn't even be surprised, but it boiled his temper all over again.

Maybe it was a good thing he was thrown aside, landing with a splash in a slushy puddle and shuddering as the cold of it wormed into his damaged jacket and soaking into his fatigues, even sopping in his boots. He pushed himself up from the slushy mess that they had both taken quite the dunk in, and he ended up sitting there shaking water from his gloves.

"I see you're still a complete asshole," he growled back. "Don't you dare mope about what I thought of you. When we had things between us, I thought the world of you." He pushed himself to stand, soaked and shivering because his body was still fighting off the festering bullet fragments and thus decided it didn't want to acclimatize as quickly as it used to. He was heading over to where his pulse rifle was still up in a tree because of course it was.

"I wouldn't have let you killed me, even you don't deserve the punishment that the Death of this world brings." He knew enough that it took sometime, and sometimes took months to return whatever it took if at all. "While I'd simply come back with just another memory of death."

Dramatic perhaps, but it was the truth, curling fingers in to slush as he didn't bother getting back up, looking it over. This was what his anger unchecked always caused, and he thought he had better control than this. Already moving a hand out as the slush turned to steam, the dead grass beneath it all uncovered as he... let it be. He wouldn't be able to fix any of it in the state he was in at the moment.

He could have easily avoided all of this, but he'd hoped— "There was no one I thought more of than Jack Morrison," and he still wasn't getting up, even as that steam wrapped around 76's retreating form, full of warmth and sucking away the cold and damn as if he'd just walked through a human sized drier on his way to his gun.

Too old for all of this. "Doesn't matter anymore, think what you want of me. I got used to you not giving a shit long before the explosion. Be no different now." Head rested back, eyes closed as he tried to stop the tears, ungloved hands over his face as the leather melted away, left in just some old familiar hoodie.

"Don't look for me again, don't ask about me. You won't find me." Withdrawing in to himself.

Punishment? That was news to him, not that he was too interested in that, but as dramatic as it sounded, the fact that apparently there was a price for murder was interesting to consider. Aside from the usual pull on his conscience, it wasn't as if he cared much for any of the penalties. There was a reason he had such a big bounty on his head as Soldier: 76.

"You never stop being a dramatic ass," he remarked even as he noted the slush turning into a stream which seemed to retreat even as he walked. He was grumbling as he walked through resistance as all the cold water seemed to wick right off of him, leaving him dry and in better condition than the ice had created.

With two running steps, he ascended the tree to retrieve his pulse rifle, seating himself up in the branches. He growled when it seemed Reaper was going to bait him, and he instead lay his pulse rifle across his thighs.

"You're going to have a big isolated pity-party, aren't you? Should I pull out my tiny violin and play you a song about woe is you, Reyes?" It was interesting that Reyes had so much control over his clothing these days. So the Reaper get up was actually for dramatic purposes? "That's so typical of you."

He shook his head. "What the hell happened to you these three years you mumbled about?"

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