#ask-the-soldier

[mercifulresurrection-archive]

Hazard symbol prompt thing. Blame mobile

send ⚠ to pick up/carry my muse

Another night spent arguing with someone she had once regarded as a friend, this was becoming routine, almost more normal to her than the time they had once spent exchanging banter or important information. She hated this, but she could never hate him, no matter how much it appeared to be that way. Though...at the moment he was really testing her patience.

“I vill not rest,” She informed him, her voice firm. She really was too stubborn for her own good sometimes. No one else was willing to fight her on such issues, not willing to risk angering the only doctor they had just to tell her to rest. Of course he couldn’t be as easy to dissuade as the others, nothing was ever easy when it came to him. She was about to grab some paperwork when instead she was swept off her feet--literally--being held by the very man she had been arguing with. He was quieter, or she’d just been too absorbed in her work--perhaps even both--to hear him approach. A scowl appeared on her features, “Put me down zhis instant. If you zhink you can force me to rest you are mistaken.” She hissed, even in her anger she wasn’t going to risk hurting his hearing just to get her point across. 

@ask-the-soldier 

[ninzen-blog1]

Dear past me

“Dear past me, 

I wish you would not have been so scandalous with your actions... Rebelled less... And I deeply wish the most that you would have spent more time with Hanzo. 

He needed us and we only made him feel insignificant and out actions drove the Elders to wish us dead. 

Things could have been different if Father hadn’t coddled you. If only you had grown up...” 

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ask-the-soldier replied to your post:=

IT STILL BAFFLES ME THAT YOU’RE A BABY

YOU FRICKER I AM NOT A BABY I AM LEGALLY AN ADULT

[retterin]

@ask-the-soldier

A memory brought many things to Angela; joy, sadness, fury- but she didn’t expect it to make her laugh, of all things. A lone duffle bag sat out on the table. To most, it would mean nothing signifigant. Perhaps just the thought of, ‘I should leave it alone,’ or something similair. But for the doctor, it brought up something from the days when she was truly happy. 

She had left her pruse out on the table of her room, and reutnrned five minutes later to find a Captain Amari’s daughter with bright pink lipstick smeared around her lips, her purse knocked over. That was the day she had learned to never leave her bag unattended. 

Once she was done reminiscing in the old times, she took a closer look at it. It looked quite familiar. Ah- she knew who it belonged to. But she felt like she had seen it many times before she had seen Soldier 76 carrying it around; yet brushed it off as a brand. 

Angela figured that the big companies mass produced certain products if they were popular enough. 

With a quick glance around, the blonde deduced that the owner of the bag wasn’t around. A dainty hand picked it up by the handles, shoulder dropping only a bit as she walked forward. She didn’t know where he the solider was, so she thought to check the training room first. A typical spot, or so she thought. 

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"You take such joy in pretending you're okay. It won't last long, Angela. There isn't a point to pretend anymore."

Angela tensed, blue eyes locking onto his mask as she glared at him. Hands rested on her hips as if it would make her look intimidating, but she seemed unable to truly look ‘scary’ or ‘terrifying’ at the moment. “I have to ‘pretend’. If zhe others saw me reflect how I truly feel zhey vould no longer confide in my as zheir doctor, as zheir ally. I have to be strong--or at least appear to be--so zhat zhey feel comfortable coming to me vhen zhey need to. I get no pleasure out of ‘pretending’. I certainly get no enjoyment out of your vords vhen you do not truly understand zhe situation or my reasons behind everything. I am sorry I am not emotionless like you. Perhaps you could give me some advice on how to ‘play dead’ for so many years vithout feeling remorse for allowing a trusted colleague--maybe even a friend--to zhink zhat you are dead for years on end.” She was getting worked up, all of her negative emotions she’d been hiding from the others making their way into her words and the way she clenched her fists tightly enough to turn her knuckles white. “Get off of your high horse, stop trying to give me advice vhen you are drowning at sea alongside me, even if zhey are for different reasons.” 

@ask-the-soldier

[mercifulresurrection-archive]

"You are my sunshine."

Send me “You are my sunshine” for my muse’s reaction to yours dying in their arms

No. No, no, no! This...this couldn’t be happening! Angela desperately tried to stop the bleeding with her hands, applying pressure to the gaping wound. Logically, she knew it was too late, that there was nothing she could do. She would need a literal miracle to save him, and she was fresh out of those. “Jack, stay vith me, please!” Her voice was urgent, pleading. “You cannot die on me now, not for real zhis time!” Tears welled in her eyes, she could see his life fading, the mask had been removed earlier to allow easier breathing--not that it did anything but delay the inevitable by a few seconds.

 “Bitte, können sie nicht auf meine jetzt sterben!” She pleaded in her native tongue, voice cracking as her hands pressed harder against the wound as if it would magically staunch the blood. She shouldn’t have been panicking, she was a doctor, a first responder. She had seen this before. But yet...that’s why it was doing this to her, she knew his time left on this earth was slipping through her fingers like grains of sand, she saw all the telltale signs and she was helpless to do anything about it. “Ich bin so traurig, dass ich Sie schlug fehl. Sie stellen Ihre Sicherheit in meinen Händen und ich nicht dich.” Tears trickled down her cheeks, a sob racking through her as she moved to rest a hand on his cheek. “Bitte verzeih mir.”

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[mercifulresurrection-archive]

"If it wasn't for you, we'd all be dead."

Angela shook her head, placing a hand on her hip as she regarded him. “J--...Seventy-Six, I did nothing but my job.” She barely caught herself, barely stopped herself from saying his name...or at least the name he used to answer to. Even though he acted different, looked different, hid his face behind a mask 99% of the time she still knew it was him, and it was hard not to cling to that fact. No matter how many times he claimed ‘Jack was dead’ or ‘Jack was just a part of his past’ she would still see him as Morrison, not Soldier 76. 

Her voice lowered, blue eyes studying his mask as if trying to discern the expression that lay underneath. “Flattery gets you nowhere vith me, you--of all people--should know zhat.” Her words could have been construed as teasing, but her tone was sharp, almost biting. She didn’t know how to act around him any longer. She had known when he had been Jack. She had known when she had only thought of him as ‘Soldier 76′. 

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[mercifulresurrection-archive]

➴ (If you're still taking them.)

“Emphysema puffs pink, chronic bronchitis makes you blue, but no COPD makes me as breathless as you.” 

@ask-the-soldier