&quot;Everybody dances with the Grim Reaper.&quot;

“Thanks. I’m getting anxious now. Better than the desert camo, I hope.” Reaper said, crossing his arms behind the girl.

“Of course,” she said. “I wouldn’t stick you in something like that if you didn’t need the camouflage.”

Mia tugged the door open. “After you.”

“I appreciate it.” The assassin walked through the door, inviting her inside before he went in further. This wasn’t his area, after all. Best to be respectful.

“No problem,” she said, striding down the hall.

They approached a set of steel double doors. Mia put her hand on another fingerprint scanner, and popped out her contact to scan her retina.

The door unlatched, and she held it open for Reaper.

#PlentyOfShotguns #talonsdesigner

The assassin walked through, stopping soon after entering.

“So, what am I looking at, and how will it help me?” The ghost asked, turning his head slightly in the direction of the designer.

mercyforaprice

“Oh, yes.” She giggled, and drew close to him, leeching just a little energy from his kill away with a purr of satisfaction. “It’s not to bad at first, but….well, mad dogs should be put down for everyone’s safety.”

She floated silent after Reaper when he moved, her wings barely making the faintest sound as they activated.

#PlentyOfShotguns #The Bad Doctor #Mercy

“How reassuring.” Came is flat response. The pair eventually came to a large ledge with no visible path of ascension.

“You know the drill by now, I’m sure.” The Ghost teleported up to the ledge and made sure it was clear before signaling the medic up.

The Stark File

“It sounds almost like you loved Lyanna. Are you truly willing to let the last part of her die? Keep me here with you, but let him go. If he dies…then Lyanna dies with him. Think about that. The last part of Lyanna Stark, the woman you loved, leaving this world forever. Jon looks a lot like her, doesn’t he? I’ve heard people say he has her smile, her laugh. You will be wiping Lyanna from the face of the earth…none of her remaining.” Sansa was a master of manipulation. She had learned from the best. She could trick this Specter, get him to let Jon go.

“I will not tell you where Jack is. I will never give him up…no matter what you do to me. And I am no child…” Sansa was like the rest of the Starks, stubborn and fiercely loyal to the end. “I know who you are, Gabriel. I remember you from when I was just a kid. And now here you are…prepared to torture me and kill Jon. Never took you for one so willing to hurt children. I always thought you were better then that. What would my mother say? What would Lyanna say if she could see you?” These mind games were her expertise, something she was rather skilled with. She could trick this thing, get him to let her and Jon go.

“Heh. On the nose as ever, child. Sadly, my love went unrequited. Lyanna is dead, regardless of whether or not the boy in the next room is.” He fell silent as she described the features on the boy, turning his head to the TV.

“I suppose you could say he does, but he’s done little of both since he awoke.” Gabriel’s face turned sour as she declined the offer. He waited on her to finish before spinning around, mask in hand. His face was still hidden mostly by his hood. He crushed it, splinters flying as he said,

“You always were clever, Sansa. And I’ve always done what’s necessary to get the job done. Why do you think I was in charge of Blackwatch, cleaning up Morrison’s mess? The Mess YOUR FATHER helped create. They both knew how I was. How I am. And what they think doesn’t matter. Graves don’t give opinions. But unfortunately for you, I know what you’re doing. Playing mind games, like mother like daughter. I’m sure Dad and Jack’s politics play in there too. It’s pathetic!” The Ghost yelled, kicking her chair onto it’s side.

He crouched down in front of her, removing the hood lay bare the scars of war. Burns, scars, and decaying skin covered his face, contrasting the paleness of death with his bloodshot, red eyes.

“What say you to that, Stark?”

When her chair was kicked over, it knocked Sansa’s head against the floor, splitting it open and causing it to bleed. Blood trickled onto the floor, but Sansa did not flinch. When she saw Gabriel’s face, she didn’t even blink. She had seen worse, much worse.

“I say you’re wrong. You cannot blame me nor Jon for what our parents have done. I have no information for you, Gabriel. I’m just a child, a nineteen year old who has barley even lived. I just joined with Overwatch, I have no idea where Jack moves to. I hardly even leave the base. Even Jon could not tell you, he barley even knows who that man is anymore. If you want to kill me then go ahead. Stop wasting my time and get on with whatever you plan to do.” Sansa snarled, every inch a she-wolf. Her blue eyes were fierce and full of pure hate for the Specter.

None of what she said was even true. Sansa knew where Jack was since she traveled with him when they left the base. Jon knew where he was as well as they had been trying to reconnect. But Sansa had learned to lie to survive, and she could lie well.

“Imagine that. The girl barely knows anything. That’s what everyone says when they get strapped to that chair. But if neither of you know anything, I don’t see a reason to keep either of you alive.” Gabe stated grimly, replacing the mask.

“Jon first.”

"Are you okay? Would you like a hug?"- Talonsdesigner

“Who let you in here? How did-? Never mind. I’m fine, thanks.” The assassin shrugged off the designer.

“Who hired you again?” Gabriel asked, removing his mask and rubbing his forehead. Nonstop interruptions today, it seemed.

@talonsdesigner

“Thanks. I’m getting anxious now. Better than the desert camo, I hope.” Reaper said, crossing his arms behind the girl.

“Of course,” she said. “I wouldn’t stick you in something like that if you didn’t need the camouflage.”

Mia tugged the door open. “After you.”

“I appreciate it.” The assassin walked through the door, inviting her inside before he went in further. This wasn’t his area, after all. Best to be respectful.

"Are you okay? Would you like a hug?"- Talonsdesigner

“Who let you in here? How did-? Never mind. I’m fine, thanks.” The assassin shrugged off the designer.

“Who hired you again?” Gabriel asked, removing his mask and rubbing his forehead. Nonstop interruptions today, it seemed.

@talonsdesigner

“Thanks. I’m getting anxious now. Better than the desert camo, I hope.” Reaper said, crossing his arms behind the girl.

The Stark File

“It sounds almost like you loved Lyanna. Are you truly willing to let the last part of her die? Keep me here with you, but let him go. If he dies…then Lyanna dies with him. Think about that. The last part of Lyanna Stark, the woman you loved, leaving this world forever. Jon looks a lot like her, doesn’t he? I’ve heard people say he has her smile, her laugh. You will be wiping Lyanna from the face of the earth…none of her remaining.” Sansa was a master of manipulation. She had learned from the best. She could trick this Specter, get him to let Jon go.

“I will not tell you where Jack is. I will never give him up…no matter what you do to me. And I am no child…” Sansa was like the rest of the Starks, stubborn and fiercely loyal to the end. “I know who you are, Gabriel. I remember you from when I was just a kid. And now here you are…prepared to torture me and kill Jon. Never took you for one so willing to hurt children. I always thought you were better then that. What would my mother say? What would Lyanna say if she could see you?” These mind games were her expertise, something she was rather skilled with. She could trick this thing, get him to let her and Jon go.

“Heh. On the nose as ever, child. Sadly, my love went unrequited. Lyanna is dead, regardless of whether or not the boy in the next room is.” He fell silent as she described the features on the boy, turning his head to the TV.

“I suppose you could say he does, but he’s done little of both since he awoke.” Gabriel’s face turned sour as she declined the offer. He waited on her to finish before spinning around, mask in hand. His face was still hidden mostly by his hood. He crushed it, splinters flying as he said,

“You always were clever, Sansa. And I’ve always done what’s necessary to get the job done. Why do you think I was in charge of Blackwatch, cleaning up Morrison’s mess? The Mess YOUR FATHER helped create. They both knew how I was. How I am. And what they think doesn’t matter. Graves don’t give opinions. But unfortunately for you, I know what you’re doing. Playing mind games, like mother like daughter. I’m sure Dad and Jack’s politics play in there too. It’s pathetic!” The Ghost yelled, kicking her chair onto it’s side.

He crouched down in front of her, removing the hood lay bare the scars of war. Burns, scars, and decaying skin covered his face, contrasting the paleness of death with his bloodshot, red eyes.

“What say you to that, Stark?”

Logging Off

#OutOfShotguns

The Stark File

“So that’s what they told you. Interesting.” He stared at the girl as he began walking again. He stopped directly in front of her, leaning very close. Her defiance would be broken, in due time. With breath that smelled of rotting flesh and his deep voice, he issued a warning.

“I guarantee you, Ms. Stark, that I am far, far worse than any form of abuse you’ve known.” The sheen of the mask contrasted with the dark holes in the eyes, which briefly flashed a bright red. He laughed, each breath carrying the weight of death upon it. The Ghost stood up, moving to the TV.

“Why would I torture you, when I could do the same to this poor boy?” Reaper flicked it on, revealing a feed from a camera in a neighboring interrogation cell. The room was brightly lit, and the boy couldn’t have been much older than Sansa herself. There was a visible wound on his knee, where a shotgun blast had taken most of the flesh and exposed a severely damaged bone.

“He was also captured in the same raid that got you. Only, I don’t need or want him alive.”

It was Jon, her beloved cousin. He was the only family Sansa had left in that world. His mother was dead and his father had died in the Swiss Headquarters explosion as well. His father had been none other then Jack Morrison and it only made sense that Reaper would take him. But Sansa would not let him die. She would allow herself to die first.

“That’s…that’s Jon…” Sansa whispered in disbelief, her eyes widening. The other agents had just let Reaper take him. Soldier 76….he always seemed to be so protective of Jon. “What do you want from me? I have no information to give you. If you want a plaything…I don’t care. Please don’t kill Jon. No one would care if I died…so just kill me instead.” Sansa’s fingers were gripping the chair tightly and she dared to look at the Specter again. “You want my body, fine. You want to cut me open, that’s fine as well. Just don’t kill Jon…”

“Ah, so it is young Mr. Snow. I’d been wondering. Seems he was worth the body count if he got that reaction out. It wasn’t pretty on either side. A terrible shame dear old Dad was off base. I would’ve love to...” Reaper cracked his knuckles.

“Had words with him. He loved that boy’s mother, assuredly.” Reaper looked at the ground, staring silently until her plea.

“You will NOT put me to their level, Stark! I kill people. I would never do...that.” The Ghost pointed at the file. “You’re just a child.”

“I have no desire to kill the boy. He’s the last part of his mother left in this world. I can taste a bit of her in the soul that leaks from the wound. How about a deal? I spare the lives of both of you, Jon goes under the knife to get that wound stitched up, and you both leave, with the promise that TALON shall never pursue you. On one condition.” He leaned against the wall.

“Tell me all the locations of the New Overwatch outposts. And which one 76 frequents.”

The Stark File

“So that’s what they told you. Interesting.” He stared at the girl as he began walking again. He stopped directly in front of her, leaning very close. Her defiance would be broken, in due time. With breath that smelled of rotting flesh and his deep voice, he issued a warning.

“I guarantee you, Ms. Stark, that I am far, far worse than any form of abuse you’ve known.” The sheen of the mask contrasted with the dark holes in the eyes, which briefly flashed a bright red. He laughed, each breath carrying the weight of death upon it. The Ghost stood up, moving to the TV.

“Why would I torture you, when I could do the same to this poor boy?” Reaper flicked it on, revealing a feed from a camera in a neighboring interrogation cell. The room was brightly lit, and the boy couldn’t have been much older than Sansa herself. There was a visible wound on his knee, where a shotgun blast had taken most of the flesh and exposed a severely damaged bone.

“He was also captured in the same raid that got you. Only, I don’t need or want him alive.”

The Stark File

The latest capture from a recent failed Overwatch mission, Sansa Stark was heir to the prominent Stark family. They had helped found Overwatch, and Gabriel was good friends with the former patriarch. He had a brilliant tactical mind, and influenced him heavily. Hopefully, that meant Reaper would only break a few of his daughters ribs.

Reaper entered the room where the girl was tied to the metal chair. A deft hand removed the bag that covered her head, and a splash of ice water to make certain she was awake. The specter tossed the bucket into one of the metal walls, producing a loud clang. The TV and it’s stand in the corner were silent, upon which lay a manila envelope.

The Ghost opened the envelope, reading the name.

“Sansa Stark?”

@the-true-queen-in-the-north

Cold suddenly washed over Sansa, earning a gasp of shock from her. Her blue eyes flew open, darting around the room before landing on what seemed to be a black ghost. What…what was this thing? Sansa wasn’t going to fight. She just wasn’t one for fighting. She was fast and knew how to handle a gun, but hand to hand combat was not her forte. Sansa still wore her civilian clothes, which somehow made her look more like the innocent nineteen year old that she was.

“Y-yes…” Everything was in that file, Sansa just knew it. Her history of abuse, the deaths of her family, her birth records, no doubt all of that was there. This thing would know everything about her just from reading that file. Sansa didn’t care what happened, she would stay silent. She would die before revealing anything about Overwatch.

“Just answer my questions, and everything will go smoothly. Says here you’re the daughter of the Mr. Stark that helped found and lead Overwatch. How old were you when the Switzerland incident occurred?” Reaper asked, paging through the file. This girl was…well, her family was troubled at least. He’d seen and helped people come back from more than just abuse. If she had been captured on an Overwatch mission, why was she in civilian clothing?

The Specter looked up at the girl, black holes in his mask seeming to bore into her soul.

“I was thirteen. I didn’t know anything about it. I didn’t even some around the headquarters. I was only a child…” Sansa had been at the base during the mission, the only time that agents were allowed to wear civilian clothing was when they were simply hanging around the base. Sansa could barley even remember how she was captured. “My father, my mother, my entire family is dead. I don’t know what you want from me…I’m just a stupid girl…”

Those blue eyes of Sansa’s flicked up to the Specter and it was clear that she was beginning to piece together just who he was.

“Do you know why it occurred? What happened?” The Assassin asked, circling the girl. The ghost stopped at the comment of her family.

“Truly unfortunate. They weren’t supposed to be killed. Casualties of war, I suppose.” He said, pausing his circling as he did. He owed Mr. Stark quite a bit, and maybe that was how he got to sleep at night. Just by saying that, over and over.

mercyforaprice

@thereaperdrawsnear

Her Valkyrie suit was wrong, far different from all those years ago. Instead of a Halo, Horns twisted upward- a tail flicked back and forth absently and her heels…her heels were cloven hooves.

“Missed me- Gabriel?” She landed next to him, healing stream turning blue and invigorating him.

Angela Ziegler, the woman who brought him back to life against his will… had certainly changed from that day.

“No. That outfit certainly fits you better though.” Reaper looked all over the costume. It certainly looked more…accurate for her than her previous suit.

“Why did they feel the need to send you? I can handle myself.”

mercyforaprice

“Think so?” She does a twirl on one foot while continuing the stream, “Wonderful.” Mercy grinned, a bit of strange grin, “Oh? They didn’t send me Dear, I just felt like coming.”

Then the line went from gold, to blue; “How does that feel? Hmmm? Better?”

#PlentyOfShotguns #mercyforaprice #Mercy #The Bad Doctor

Gabriel rolled his eyes behind the mask. If he had it his way, he’d be in a grave at Arlington. But no. He was here, working with the woman...no, the demon that made him what he was.

“Fantastic.” He said flatly. Reaper could feel the power swelling through his body as he cleared a corner. A soldier was waiting with a knife, and moved to stab the specter in the neck. The Ghost caught the wrist mid swing, breaking it and plunging the knife back into the assailants throat.

“Have you ever had someone get addicted to that?” Reyes asked, slowly moving his way to the other side of the wall.

The Stark File

The latest capture from a recent failed Overwatch mission, Sansa Stark was heir to the prominent Stark family. They had helped found Overwatch, and Gabriel was good friends with the former patriarch. He had a brilliant tactical mind, and influenced him heavily. Hopefully, that meant Reaper would only break a few of his daughters ribs.

Reaper entered the room where the girl was tied to the metal chair. A deft hand removed the bag that covered her head, and a splash of ice water to make certain she was awake. The specter tossed the bucket into one of the metal walls, producing a loud clang. The TV and it’s stand in the corner were silent, upon which lay a manila envelope.

The Ghost opened the envelope, reading the name.

“Sansa Stark?”

@the-true-queen-in-the-north

Cold suddenly washed over Sansa, earning a gasp of shock from her. Her blue eyes flew open, darting around the room before landing on what seemed to be a black ghost. What…what was this thing? Sansa wasn’t going to fight. She just wasn’t one for fighting. She was fast and knew how to handle a gun, but hand to hand combat was not her forte. Sansa still wore her civilian clothes, which somehow made her look more like the innocent nineteen year old that she was.

“Y-yes…” Everything was in that file, Sansa just knew it. Her history of abuse, the deaths of her family, her birth records, no doubt all of that was there. This thing would know everything about her just from reading that file. Sansa didn’t care what happened, she would stay silent. She would die before revealing anything about Overwatch.

“Just answer my questions, and everything will go smoothly. Says here you’re the daughter of the Mr. Stark that helped found and lead Overwatch. How old were you when the Switzerland incident occurred?” Reaper asked, paging through the file. This girl was...well, her family was troubled at least. He’d seen and helped people come back from more than just abuse. If she had been captured on an Overwatch mission, why was she in civilian clothing?

The Specter looked up at the girl, black holes in his mask seeming to bore into her soul.

"Are you okay? Would you like a hug?"- Talonsdesigner

“Who let you in here? How did-? Never mind. I’m fine, thanks.” The assassin shrugged off the designer.

“Who hired you again?” Gabriel asked, removing his mask and rubbing his forehead. Nonstop interruptions today, it seemed.

@talonsdesigner

“Very funny,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve been here longer than you… I think that makes me your senior.”

Mia took a peek at his face. “Just asking. I can never quite tell with the mask.”

“Now you’re the one cracking jokes.” Gabriel said flatly before replacing the mask.

“Is that all you came in here for, or can I help you with something actually related to your job?” Everyone had a job in TALON, and the last psychiatrist didn’t leave on good terms. They were scraping him off the for a long time.

“I have a new suit ready,” she said. “Slightly different specifications, so you’ll need to do a fitting.”

“If it all goes smoothly, Weapons has some shotguns to match.”

The specter stood up from his chair, looking down at this woman. His life, or what was left of it, was in her hands. Well, that and his dignity.

Anything was better than that desert camo coat, after all.

Reaper removed his mask and took off his hood, and his eyes flared red for the slightest second.

“Lead the way.” He said, gesturing out of his room.

“Why do you wear the mask on base?” She asked, opening the door to the staircase.

“We all know what your face looks like.”

“I like it.” He answered simply, holding the door as she opened it.

“So do I.” Came the slightly more grim response. He wouldn’t want to see that if he could avoid it.

#OutOfShotguns #Logging Off

Logging Off

"Are you okay? Would you like a hug?"- Talonsdesigner

“Who let you in here? How did-? Never mind. I’m fine, thanks.” The assassin shrugged off the designer.

“Who hired you again?” Gabriel asked, removing his mask and rubbing his forehead. Nonstop interruptions today, it seemed.

@talonsdesigner

“Very funny,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve been here longer than you… I think that makes me your senior.”

Mia took a peek at his face. “Just asking. I can never quite tell with the mask.”

“Now you’re the one cracking jokes.” Gabriel said flatly before replacing the mask.

“Is that all you came in here for, or can I help you with something actually related to your job?” Everyone had a job in TALON, and the last psychiatrist didn’t leave on good terms. They were scraping him off the for a long time.

“I have a new suit ready,” she said. “Slightly different specifications, so you’ll need to do a fitting.”

“If it all goes smoothly, Weapons has some shotguns to match.”

The specter stood up from his chair, looking down at this woman. His life, or what was left of it, was in her hands. Well, that and his dignity.

Anything was better than that desert camo coat, after all.

Reaper removed his mask and took off his hood, and his eyes flared red for the slightest second.

“Lead the way.” He said, gesturing out of his room.