@scorchxr : “don’t you ever get tired of being terrible ?”
》 ‘you’re fucking evil’ prompts
“THERE’S NO REST FOR THE WICKED, girlie.” His whole existence was testament to that. Besides, this wasn’t the first time the rec room had been made a WRECK. Bots would be by before the end of the night to pick up the mess. Broken furniture replaced within a day. It had all been in good fun, more or less - Wraith hadn’t killed him, after all. A quick tussle, and she’d decided she had had enough and left.
Wasn’t the first time the sim had picked a fight with another Legend for fun. Wouldn’t be the last, either.
After, Revenant had merely moved to plop himself on the sofa and take up the TV remote without any mind for what Scorcher might have been in the middle of watching. There was BLACK OIL leaking from his nose - or lack thereof - and the slot in his arm that normally produced Silences was left askew, sparking pitifully, after having taken a kunai, but he didn’t appear that much worse for wear otherwise.
@scorchxr ha dicho : “ lend a hand, here, if you could. ”
ㅤㅤ❝ depende de lo que quieras . what do you need my help for anyway , amiga ׅׅ𖤠 ❞
ㅤㅤbecause , honestly , nobody ever asks them for help unless it is to later place blame on them . tired eyes gleam , lips drawn at thin line as wariness hangs heavy in stagnant ozone . arms cross over chest , brow arched——how curious , how serious .
@scorchxr asked: “ you’re such an idiot. “ - for octane?
THE SPEEDSTER CACKLES AT THE STATEMENT, laid back while his chest heaved with exertion. “Heh, this was NOTHING chica. Just wait ‘til I add MORE gunpowder! I’ll reach the sky!”
@scorchxr asked: ❛ Ow! You fuckin’ hit me with the phone, dick! ❜ (Mirage)
“AH CRAP- SORRY!” THE APOLOGY WAS RUSHED, and Elliott all but TRIPS over his own feet as he spun around to face whoever he’d accidentally hit. He skids to a stop, face apologetic and cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Are you okay?”
@scorchxr asked:
↪ 𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒.
“ hey, how badly are you hurt? can you move? you think you can walk? ”
Those were all good, VALID questions.
In his current state — eyes drifting aimlessly through a spinning room as he laid sprawled across the cold floor — Elliott wasn’t sure he could answer ANY of them, but still good and valid...
“ — does it have to be in a straight line?” Rhetorical, of course; it’s muttered under his breath as he sits upright to brush himself free of all the loose debris that went flying when the grenade went off moments before. “Y’know — maybe you can give a WARNING next time? Possibly even before throwing grenades in your teammate’s direction? Just a thought.”
Elliott wasn’t mad. Hardly upset even — after all, it’s not like he took any REAL damage from the explosion. Non-emotional damage...it might’ve even been what saved his tail from the duo he was about to run head first into. So really, he probably owed her a THANK YOU —
— too bad he’s more worried about whether or not the cameras caught that...
SCORCHER ( @scorchxr ) said : “ my body is a temple and i’m not taking that shit! ”
octane couldn't really blame scorcher's outburst. sometimes he cursed the stim himself, seeing as it was distributed by his estranged father's company, FUNDED by him and, inevitably, stood in direct connection to silva pharmaceuticals. might as well put a label with the name on his syringes as well, though it wouldn't make a difference anyway.
he shrugged it off, then slid the little canister he just offered to his squadmate back into the small pocket on his vest. more left for himself, octane thought; he just wanted to offer his teammate a hand.
" SUIT YOURSELF, amiga. might wanna pick up the pace though. last ring's MERCILESS. "
not only did it seem to close in on the legends quicker than the other rings before, it also HURT a lot worse if you happened to be stuck inside the energy field. any legend would be fried into a crisp within two seconds.
scorcher doesn’t look like she's particularly scared of that. at least that's what the daredevil assumed considering she didn't seem too worried about octane's warnings before-- which was unlike him, anyway. why bother?
RUNNING from the ring is what makes it fun!
The name was buried somewhere in her memory, coming to her like a whisper. When she opened her eyes, she saw the familiar white ceiling of her room just beyond the mesh of her white canopy above her bed. It took her a few seconds to realize that someone was knocking on her door and she roused from her sleep-state to sit up, looking over. Her small fists rubbed her eyes, scanning the length of her room for the source of the noise.
"Erma?" She calls, and the door swings open. Stepping in was a relatively tall figure, dark hair like their mother, dark eyes and a rather serious expression - that is until he sees Eleanor and he brightens gently. Her older brother, Herman.
"Te desperté?" ("Did I wake you up?")
Eleanor nodded, yawning widely and Herman approaches with a chuckle, sitting at the foot of her bed, tousling her curls.
"Sorry, hermanita." (Little sister.)
"'sta bien." ('s okay) She extends her arms sleepily and he draws her into a hug as she curls on his lap.
"Eli, quieres comer desayuno yá? Devon y Theo van a cocinar." (”Eli, did you want to eat breakfast? Devon and Theo are gonna cook.”)
"Nana--?"
"Mamá lo despidió." (”Mother fired her.”)
Eleanor droops in disappointment - that was the fourth cook in six years that she genuinely liked that was fired. She couldn't even comprehend what Nana could have done that would've garnered being fired, but it wasn't as if they could speak against it.
"Bueno?" (”Well?”)
Eleanor nodded, slipping off his lap. There wasn't much time they had in the day together, and Eleanor loves her brothers' company, so any chance together she can get she would take. She wasn't any older than maybe 5, coming up barely to her brother's waist. He'd inherited his father's height, which Eleanor liked because she could ride on his shoulders whenever he was home before sunset and pretend like she was flying. Her maids came in, and Herman waited outside as she was dressed. He carried her on his back all the way to the kitchen, where her brothers were, indeed waiting.
Despite Herman being the youngest sibling, he was the tallest. The oldest, Devon, reached just under his chin, while Theo seemed to stay a little on the shorter side. All three of them were roughly about a year apart from each other and in their mid to late teenage years.
"Good morning, Eleanor." Devon said a little stiffly. Ela frowned a little - he was always so formal around her. Theo seemed just as stiff, and she could see dark circles under his eyes. He hadn't slept well again. She could remember hearing him crying to his mother one night that he could barely sleep well anymore. Their mother was furious with his tears. Ela never wanted to cry around her mom.
"Vamos, let's make some food." (“Come on,”) Herman urged, and the other two nodded.
Devon strode off and retrieved three aprons, handing each off to his brothers. Herman placed Ela down carefully in her high chair so she could watch them all as they gathered around the stove unit in the middle of the kitchen. It was a really beautiful and large kitchen.. A couple of maids came by and set down a couple of Ela's favorite plushies in front of her and she hugged them as all three of her brothers got to work.
It really was a treat watching them work - even at her young age, she could see they genuinely enjoyed cooking. The crinkle between Devon's brows relaxed, Theo seemed to smile a little, and Herman always hummed and bounced gently to the song he sang. Despite the kitchen being so large, his tune always filled the room.
Soon, the wonderful smells of bacon, eggs, toast and coffee wafted around, and Ela felt her stomach grumbling. She was elated to see her plate served first, a small but bright red plate with an adequate amount of eggs and bacon, and two slices of toast. With a flourish, Herman set it down in front of her, grinning. Eleanor giggled and clapped, taking her fork and eating. Her brothers serve themselves, and all seems to be well...
Until there was the loud clatter of silverware and quiet gasping.
Ela jumps and looks up to see Theo with his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking. Was he crying?
Devon suddenly clicked his tongue loudly, and put his fork down. "Theodore. Para de llorar." (”Stop crying.”)
"No te pones así, Devon." (”Don't be like this, Devon.”)
"Tu sabes que si mamá se entera que esta llorando otravez--" (”You know that if mother finds out he's crying again--”)
"Mamá no esta aquí - no te acuerdas? Esta de viaje. So unless you plan on telling her yourself--" (”Mother's not here -- don't you remember? She's on a trip.")
"STOP IT!" Theo yelled suddenly, slamming his hands down on the countertop. Ela felt her heart leap into her throat and start pounding like mad, tears springing to her eyes in fear. Why were they angry with each other?
"Theodore, cálmate. No te pones asi de frente de la niña." (”Theodore, calm yourself. Don't act like this in front of the girl.”) Devon said, walking around the counter to his brother, but Theodore immediately shrugged him off. There were tear streaks down his face, and despite being anxious, Ela grunted at him, reaching out. Theo looked at her, his expression softening a little.
"She has a name, Devon." Herman snapped, walking to Ela and picking her up gently from her seat, carrying her. Ela wiggled in his arms, reluctant to be picked up.
"I'm aware of that, Herman. You really should start acting more in the way mamá wants, you know? It's only going to make it harder on her."
"Fuck both of you." Theo sobbed, and suddenly stormed out. Ela felt her tears pour down, a confused and nervous wail building in her throat, even as Herman rubbed her back in comfort. But neither Devon nor Herman said anything more - Ela was handed off to a maid, along with her food and plushes, and she was taken back to her room to be calmed down, fed and eventually left to her toys. But Theo plagued her thoughts for the rest of the day.
Yet she couldn't see him. At dinnertime, she took her meal in her room with a couple maids ensuring she ate, and putting a movie on the TV for her. It wasn't until about two weeks later she saw him once more, and he seemed much more composed, but a lot more serious and quieter than before. He didn't even acknowledge her except to say a brief goodbye - he was going on a business trip, she was told, to meet with some potential clients with their mother. Ela felt an odd anxiety in the pit of her stomach that had been there since that day in the kitchen.
If only she'd known that was the beginning of the tragedy that would strike the Ortega family.
Her mother returned earlier than expected, and it was the first time she'd ever seen her mother look so pale, so... off. Even as a child, she knew something was wrong.
"Eli."
Her father was there, carefully scooping her up and taking her out to the garden in their backyard. Tall, like Herman, with an angled face, lighter brown hair, and gentle light brown eyes.
They sat at the fountain, followed by Herman, and Ela could see both of their faces were pale, like her mother's. The anxiety built in her more.
"Eli, listen to me - Theo won't be coming home." Henry spoke, gently tucking Ela's hair behind her ear. Ela blinked in confusion.
"Donde fue?" (”Where go?”) She asked, her throat tight. Herman turned away from them, and Ela could see his shoulders shake, like Theo's did. He was crying. She wanted to cry too.
Henry carefully lifted Ela and sat her on his lap, hugging her securely. "El espíritu de Theo se fue a reunirse con Abuelita Lila." (”Theo's spirit went to reunite with Grandma Lila.") "We'll be saying goodbye to him in a couple of days."
Ela remembered when they had to say goodbye to Abuelita Lila. She remembered how much Theo cried. But now they had to say goodbye to Theo? Why?
"Por que?" (”Why?”) Her face was screwing up already, and she was crying faster than she expected. Her father held her tighter as she buried her face into his chest.
"Papi, le tienes que decir." (”Dad, you have to tell her.”) Herman begged tearfully. She felt her father tense.
"Como le vas a decir lo que paso a el?" (”How are you gonna tell her what happened to him?”) There was anger in her father's voice, something she rarely heard, and even without seeing she could tell Herman flinched. "....Sorry, Pipo.." (an affectionate name)
"She's gonna find out eventually.." Herman’s voice dropped to a whisper.
"We can tell her later. That's not something a kid should know. When she's older." Her father replied. Ela clutched the front of his shirt in frustration and grief - she had somewhat of a concept of what saying goodbye meant, why couldn't she know what happened to her brother?
But she was crying too hard to speak or say anything, devolving into full body sobs and hiccups. Even if she never saw her brother for more than a day or two on occasion, she still loved him. Loved how in the odd moments outside their mother's gaze, he shone brightly in the kitchen, in the times he was out in the backyard, secretly tending to a small garden of cacti he had. A secret they kept between the two of them. Who would take care of the cacti now?
It was only the beginning of the tragedy that struck the Ortega family.
It was only the beginning of the tragedy that struck the Ortega family.
It was only --
------------------
Delia woke up again, and this time it was the ceiling of her room at base. It had been a long time since she’d last dreamt of anything to do with her family. It was jarring to think of her brother Theo again. His death was like the others’, though - vague.
He dealt with it himself, she was told, when she was “old enough”.
Devon eventually fell sick from stress, had “heart problems”, she was told.
And Herman… he was sought after by someone who wanted to hurt Ortega Distributions. Never made it back home, she was told.
Soon after, the grief of losing three of his children overcame her father, and he passed on shortly after. And Delia had already begun to plan her escape, even if it meant she died trying. It was better than dealing with the stress and abuse brought on from her mother, and dying like her brothers. She wanted to live.
Theo’s exhausted last smile at her lingered in the back of her mind, even as Delia shoved her earbuds into her ears, and played music at its fullest volume to try and sleep again.
"You know when I said I liked the snow--" Delia scraped off the residual snow off her hair, teeth clenched from the impact, "--I didn't mean it flying at me 50 miles per hour." She forced herself to relax, just to give him the benefit of the doubt and turned to look at Pathfinder. "Do you say hi to the others that same way?"
“---!! I’M SORRY, FRIEND! For what it’s worth, the snowball was thrown at only 37 miles per hour.” Digits curl in, hesitant, before he lightly assists in dusting off the remnants of snow off her shoulders. His screen depicts a guilt-ridden emote, before transferring to a question mark. “I do not. Why? Do you think I should?”
