Continued from here with @vigilantcs
Brows raised above the glowing visor, he peered down at the blaster trained on his heart, offering only a light snort for his initial response.
“Funny? I’m always dressed like this, in case you haven’t noticed.” he eventually said, gesturing to himself. He honestly rarely ever ditched his vigilante garb, choosing instead to retain the protection it offered. The entire reason he had even obtained it all as his outfit and equipment. “Besides, since when was I prisoner? I can’t wander the hall and come or go as I wish?” Jack began to reach for her weapon, hand outstretched to gently divert her aim aside. It would be unfortunate for him to die today, his work unfinished.
Angela quirked a brow. “You’re not a prisoner. But I do not trust an individual who stomps around the halls at night like a man hellbent on a mission.” Okay, stomps was a bit harsh whenever she could hardly hear his footsteps, even in the echoing corridors, but she wasn’t going to give him any accolades over it.
“Don’t.” The doctor warned when he reached for her weapon. “Believe it or not I’m not usually one for violence, but I’m not going to be merciful when strangers try to brush aside my weapon and my concerns.”
She readjusted her grip on the pistol ever so slightly, finger centimeters from the trigger. “What are you doing out so late, Seventy-Six?” She repeated her question from earlier. “There’s been a few deaths of Overwatch agents lately and I think you are the cause.”