#acceptedmyself

[octaane]

SPARROW ( @acceptedmyself​ ) |   continued from here :

"Yes. You are.”

So he was saying, but it was obvious in the Sparrow’s tone that he himself wasn’t so sure about what he was saying. The two of them might have walked out of their last encounter with other participants victorious, but it didn’t come without a price. The third person on their team was dead, they were running low on ammo, and as if things couldn’t have gotten more dire, Octane had been shot.

The two of them were now hidden in an empty building that miraculously enough hadn’t been looted yet. Genji found enough material to last them another battle, and enough supplies to at least patch up his teammate, or at the very least stop the bleeding in his abdomen.

When he thought the younger was stable enough - as he repeatedly assured him - the cyborg allowed himself to walk away from him and cast occasional looks through the thin window near the closed door. If he had kept count correctly, there probably only was around twelve participants left. Hopefully some of them would eliminate each other before the evacuation ship came down.

“We’re close to the center of the Ring. I think you can rest easy for now.” He said, still keeping a hand clasped over the hilt of the blade at his waist. Just in case. “If somebody finds us, I’ll take care of them.”

OCTANE ENDURED MANY WOUNDS BEFORE.

that didn’t make them hurt less, however. especially when a load of shotgun pellets ripped through his middle, damaging his dialysers located on his stomach. aside from the burning pain of the several holes puncturing his flesh, two out of four dialysers stopped functioning properly and octane began to feel the consequences.

when his blood wasn’t filtered as thoroughly when he’d use his stims as often as he did, he’d start feeling the negative effects that he so successfully avoided since he got these enhancements on his body. that meant withdrawal symptoms. that meant DISTRACTIONS.

the daredevil groaned as he pulled himself up, dismissing sparrow’s well-meant advice to rest. he held onto a window frame as he peeked out; everything seemed relatively clear. for now. octane looked down on himself-- he could tell he looked pathetic with the amount of bandages keeping him from bleeding out.

“ no can do, compadre. there’s no stopping-- meeeee.... “

he started to trail off at the end of his sentence, as he curled into himself a little, physically cringing in pain. okay, this was worse than a bullet in his arm or shrapnel in his thigh. just a little WORSE. and the migraine that started to set in wasn’t improving much, either. octane felt downright miserable.

as he managed to finally look sparrow’s way, he noticed the blade in his fist. octane figured they’d be stuck here a little longer, so he’d try to spark a conversation. he hadn’t really gotten to know this legend just yet, anyway.

“ hey, nice knife. got something like that myself. mira! “

from his belt, octane pulled out a butterfly knife and skillfully flicked it open. it had intricate carvings on it, and even a little stim syringe implemented in it. he hardly got to use it, but if he did, it was definitely trustworthy.

“ she’s been treating me really good when i needed her. what’s yours like? “

[simulamortem]

@acceptedmyself​ : “  i’m not sorry.  ” 》 sentence starters

“You w-will be,” his voice sputtered in a low, distorted, metallic HISS.

Winning, truly, was not Revenant’s priority in a match. HE WAS JUST THERE FOR THE KILLING. Everything else came secondary: including his own SURVIVAL. And in a state like this? He would have rather have been KILLED. Uploaded into a new body altogether.

Instead, Sparrow had insisted on dragging him out of harm’s way through the end of the match, no matter how much VENOM the simulacrum had spewed in protest . It was a wonder they had managed a win at all. But now the match was over, and Revenant was LEFT LIKE THIS, his good arm slung around the metal shoulders of his former squadmate as Sparrow proceeded to drag him somewhere else, away from the hungry cameras of the press. Off to the medbay maybe. Supplies for skinsuits and bots alike in there. But repairs at this stage would just be a CHORE.

Or, maybe it was more personal. Maybe Sparrow had some VENDETTA against him like so many others, and meant to use the situation to his ADVANTAGE. Meant to drag out his suffering in this dilapidated body a little LONGER.

[hangsangjunbi]

  @acceptedmyself  ≫  sc.

     “ they say knowledge is power, but what you DO with it? that’s what’s important. ”

[bluesunsdusk]

“This fool is lucky you have such remarkable restraint. I have known people who would kill them for less.”

[locatcm]

@acceptedmyself​​ || Starter Call

“Li enposib. I’m not a mechanic.”

A small pause, Anais had nothing against omnics, she’d lived in Numbani long enough to realise they were people, alas they were just people she had little experience tending to. Her own prosthetic was hard enough to maintain at points, she glanced down, if spare parts were needed then perhaps...

“I assume you’re here for the free doctor and not the stellar company.”

[crxssfxre]

@acceptedmyself requested a TRACER starter!!

When rocking up to training today, she saw that her friend was missing again. Immediately she knew that training wouldn’t be the same. When in hopsital together, they’d grown close and now she loved their banter and competitions in training. 

As soon as she was showered and changed, Lena grabbed all of the vending machine snacks she could carry and jogged all the way to the infirmary with them. Searching the bays, she found her mate and dumped all of the snacks at the foot of his bed.

“Surprise! Bet’cha thought that I’d forgotten our little tradition!” She smiled brightly, hoping her positive mood might rub off on him and cheer him up a bit. 

[kwantumverstrengeling]

weapons do not weep

@acceptedmyself​ liked for a starter! Hello!

The sun was getting low, ready to retire to it’s celestial bed across the sky, which darkened in anticipation of the stars. Siebren had always been quite taken with the stars, from a very young age. An obvious reason, perhaps, to become an astrophysicist, but a no less valid one.

He’d had his fill of stars now, however, after an eternity in a dying one. For now, his one concern was staying alive. He’d gotten separated from his team during the ensuing chaos, after Overwatch had unexpectedly dropped in on their mission.

Dropped in was, of course, a rather mild way to put it. The gunfire and shouting coming from both sides had been incredibly disorienting for the scientist. Perhaps he wasn’t ready for active duty. The very fact that he had somehow escaped onto the roof without being much help to Talon at all was glaring proof of that.

‘What’s gotten into me, honestly? What am I doing here?’ His hand ran against the cut in his arm where a bullet had grazed him. He was no fighter. No soldier. He was a man of science. How on earth did Talon always manage to get him so... riled up? To the point where he could believe that perhaps he really could hurt someone? That he wanted to hurt someone? And he’d done it. Guards, mindless grunts standing between him and whatever it was that Talon wanted.

The satisfaction of a job well done, something he once chased in laboratories, now a point of shame with the focus of the phrase job well done shifting to something far more sinister. This was what he was for, now.

He looked up quickly as he thought he saw movement in the corner of his eye. But nothing could be up here, surely? A trick of the light or the mind, perhaps. He often saw things in the corner of his eyes.

Still, he slowly picked up the clunky red helmet Talon provided for him. He could not let his face be seen, lest the world know what truly became of the deceased Dr. de Kupier. He’d always found the assumption that anyone cared for an old scientist amusing, himself. He wasn’t exactly known for having fans.

[streetsteel]

[ @acceptedmyself, look who answered the recall!]

The road to Gibraltar had been a rather calm one for someone who was used to border hopping and avoiding security. Jay had purposefully taken a road that required a bit more physical work. The climb up to the old Watchpoint had had the expected effect: with no room left to think, his focus on the steep cliffs and spots where his grip found purchase, he couldn’t let worry or old memories resurface just yet. It was only when the buildings were in sight that Jay felt the bundle of anticipation in his chest go up to his throat. 

Hell, he was less nervous than that in the middle of gunfights. Talk about emotions making sense. 

He had gotten there early, his welcoming party consisting of Winston and Reinhardt. At the sight of them, Jay felt the anticipation vanish in a heartbeat. Home. It felt like coming home. He didn’t even try to hide it, his steps between the walk and the jog as he hurried to their side. The reunion was short, as there was much to be done, but the clap of Rein’s hand on his back probably did more good to his spine than his last four encounters with a chiropractor. 

While it was stated that they would take quarters in the main base, Jay only dropped his things in his assigned room and left once again, dual kukris tied behind his hips, walking straight into the dense vegetation on a path he knew by heart. Despite it being overgrown with vines and even a small tree he had to walk around, he found the usual footing and soon enough, he found the hidden door that led to his old dwellings. 

With the power off, the inside of the base was dark. It smelled deeply of dust and humidity. Hell, with that smell, it felt like ages had flown by since the facility was last in function. 

Still, some of his old stuff was probably there, and he wanted it back. It’d be more useful if it was brought where he’d actually hang out. 

His hands found the old emergency box exactly where it had always been and rummaged through for the flares. Cracking one alight, Jay continued on until he got to the engineering deck. His first reflex was to find one of the metal window covers and to pull it to the side, letting the sunlight filter in. He left the emergency flare by the entrance, where the light didn’t reach, dousing part of the hallway in a bight red hue. 

Man, it had been a while, yet everything was still in the same spot. With a bit of cleaning, he was almost certain he could go back to work right here, right now, and slip back into old reflexes and muscle memory. There were just... people missing now, and a sense of betrayal he tried to keep at bay as much as possible. Don’t focus on the shit that happened. Focus on what’s left. 

Turning around to start gathering his old tools, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw the silhouette standing there, red light dully reflecting on matte metal plating. He didn’t recognize the body armor, but the stance was familiar. There was only one person silent enough to sneak up on him like that. He felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips at the sight of an old friend, and released the all too nervous grip he had on his still sheathed knives.

“Hey, bud. Don’t make an old pal jump like that, it’s bad for my heart.” Of course he answered the recall. The Blackwatch pack hadn’t entirely fallen apart, and that knowledge in itself greatly reassured him.