Reblog if your muse is on the naughty list.

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@thereaperdrawsnear-blog
Reblog if your muse is on the naughty list.
"Are you okay? Would you like a hug?"- Talonsdesigner
âWho let you in here? How did-? Never mind. Iâm fine, thanks.â The assassin shrugged off the designer.
âWho hired you again?â Gabriel asked, removing his mask and rubbing his forehead. Nonstop interruptions today, it seemed.
@talonsdesigner
âThanks. Iâm getting anxious now. Better than the desert camo, I hope.â Reaper said, crossing his arms behind the girl.
âOf course,â she said. âI wouldnât stick you in something like that if you didnât need the camouflage.â
Mia tugged the door open. âAfter you.â
âI appreciate it.â The assassin walked through the door, inviting her inside before he went in further. This wasnât his area, after all. Best to be respectful.
âNo problem,â 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.
The assassin walked through, stopping soon after entering.
âSo, what am I looking at, and how will it help me?â The ghost asked, turning his head slightly in the direction of the designer.
âOh, yes.â She giggled, and drew close to him, leeching just a little energy from his kill away with a purr of satisfaction. âItâs not to bad at first, butâŠ.well, mad dogs should be put down for everyoneâs safety.â
She floated silent after Reaper when he moved, her wings barely making the faintest sound as they activated.Â
âHow reassuring.â Came is flat response. The pair eventually came to a large ledge with no visible path of ascension.
âYou know the drill by now, Iâm sure.â The Ghost teleported up to the ledge and made sure it was clear before signaling the medic up.
The Stark File
âIt 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 diesâŠthen 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, doesnât he? Iâve heard people say he has her smile, her laugh. You will be wiping Lyanna from the face of the earthâŠnone of her remaining.â Sansa was a master of manipulation. She had learned from the best. She could trick this Specter, get him to let Jon go.
âI will not tell you where Jack is. I will never give him upâŠno matter what you do to me. And I am no childâŠâ Sansa was like the rest of the Starks, stubborn and fiercely loyal to the end. âI know who you are, Gabriel. I remember you from when I was just a kid. And now here you areâŠprepared 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?â 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.
âHeh. 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.â He fell silent as she described the features on the boy, turning his head to the TV.
âI suppose you could say he does, but heâs done little of both since he awoke.â Gabrielâs 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,
âYou always were clever, Sansa. And Iâve always done whatâs necessary to get the job done. Why do you think I was in charge of Blackwatch, cleaning up Morrisonâs mess? The Mess YOUR FATHER helped create. They both knew how I was. How I am. And what they think doesnât matter. Graves donât give opinions. But unfortunately for you, I know what youâre doing. Playing mind games, like mother like daughter. Iâm sure Dad and Jackâs politics play in there too. Itâs pathetic!â The Ghost yelled, kicking her chair onto itâs 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.
âWhat say you to that, Stark?â
When her chair was kicked over, it knocked Sansaâs 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 Gabrielâs face, she didnât even blink. She had seen worse, much worse.Â
âI say youâre wrong. You cannot blame me nor Jon for what our parents have done. I have no information for you, Gabriel. Iâm 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.â Sansa snarled, every inch a she-wolf. Her blue eyes were fierce and full of pure hate for the Specter.Â
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.
âImagine that. The girl barely knows anything. Thatâs what everyone says when they get strapped to that chair. But if neither of you know anything, I donât see a reason to keep either of you alive.â Gabe stated grimly, replacing the mask.Â
âJon first.â
"Are you okay? Would you like a hug?"- Talonsdesigner
âWho let you in here? How did-? Never mind. Iâm fine, thanks.â The assassin shrugged off the designer.
âWho hired you again?â Gabriel asked, removing his mask and rubbing his forehead. Nonstop interruptions today, it seemed.
@talonsdesigner
âThanks. Iâm getting anxious now. Better than the desert camo, I hope.â Reaper said, crossing his arms behind the girl.
âOf course,â she said. âI wouldnât stick you in something like that if you didnât need the camouflage.â
Mia tugged the door open. âAfter you.â
âI appreciate it.â The assassin walked through the door, inviting her inside before he went in further. This wasnât his area, after all. Best to be respectful.
"Are you okay? Would you like a hug?"- Talonsdesigner
âWho let you in here? How did-? Never mind. Iâm fine, thanks.â The assassin shrugged off the designer.
âWho hired you again?â Gabriel asked, removing his mask and rubbing his forehead. Nonstop interruptions today, it seemed.
@talonsdesigner
âThanks. Iâm getting anxious now. Better than the desert camo, I hope.â Reaper said, crossing his arms behind the girl.
The Stark File
âIt 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 diesâŠthen 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, doesnât he? Iâve heard people say he has her smile, her laugh. You will be wiping Lyanna from the face of the earthâŠnone of her remaining.â Sansa was a master of manipulation. She had learned from the best. She could trick this Specter, get him to let Jon go.
âI will not tell you where Jack is. I will never give him upâŠno matter what you do to me. And I am no childâŠâ Sansa was like the rest of the Starks, stubborn and fiercely loyal to the end. âI know who you are, Gabriel. I remember you from when I was just a kid. And now here you areâŠprepared 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?â 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.
âHeh. 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.â He fell silent as she described the features on the boy, turning his head to the TV.
âI suppose you could say he does, but heâs done little of both since he awoke.â Gabrielâs 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,
âYou always were clever, Sansa. And Iâve always done whatâs necessary to get the job done. Why do you think I was in charge of Blackwatch, cleaning up Morrisonâs mess? The Mess YOUR FATHER helped create. They both knew how I was. How I am. And what they think doesnât matter. Graves donât give opinions. But unfortunately for you, I know what youâre doing. Playing mind games, like mother like daughter. Iâm sure Dad and Jackâs politics play in there too. Itâs pathetic!â The Ghost yelled, kicking her chair onto itâs 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.
âWhat say you to that, Stark?â
Logging Off
The Stark File
âSo thatâs what they told you. Interesting.â 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.
âI guarantee you, Ms. Stark, that I am far, far worse than any form of abuse youâve known.â 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.Â
âWhy would I torture you, when I could do the same to this poor boy?â Reaper flicked it on, revealing a feed from a camera in a neighboring interrogation cell. The room was brightly lit, and the boy couldnât 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.
âHe was also captured in the same raid that got you. Only, I donât need or want him alive.â
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.
âThatâsâŠthatâs JonâŠâ Sansa whispered in disbelief, her eyes widening. The other agents had just let Reaper take him. Soldier 76âŠ.he always seemed to be so protective of Jon. âWhat do you want from me? I have no information to give you. If you want a playthingâŠI donât care. Please donât kill Jon. No one would care if I diedâŠso just kill me instead.â Sansaâs fingers were gripping the chair tightly and she dared to look at the Specter again. âYou want my body, fine. You want to cut me open, thatâs fine as well. Just donât kill JonâŠâ
âAh, so it is young Mr. Snow. Iâd been wondering. Seems he was worth the body count if he got that reaction out. It wasnât pretty on either side. A terrible shame dear old Dad was off base. I wouldâve love to...â Reaper cracked his knuckles.
âHad words with him. He loved that boyâs mother, assuredly.â Reaper looked at the ground, staring silently until her plea.
âYou will NOT put me to their level, Stark! I kill people. I would never do...that.â The Ghost pointed at the file. âYouâre just a child.â
âI have no desire to kill the boy. Heâs 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.â He leaned against the wall.
âTell me all the locations of the New Overwatch outposts. And which one 76 frequents.â
The Stark File
âSo thatâs what they told you. Interesting.â 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.
âI guarantee you, Ms. Stark, that I am far, far worse than any form of abuse youâve known.â 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.Â
âWhy would I torture you, when I could do the same to this poor boy?â Reaper flicked it on, revealing a feed from a camera in a neighboring interrogation cell. The room was brightly lit, and the boy couldnât 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.
âHe was also captured in the same raid that got you. Only, I donât need or want him alive.â
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 itâs stand in the corner were silent, upon which lay a manila envelope.Â
The Ghost opened the envelope, reading the name.Â
âSansa Stark?â
@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. WhatâŠwhat was this thing? Sansa wasnât going to fight. She just wasnât 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.
âY-yesâŠâ  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 didnât care what happened, she would stay silent. She would die before revealing anything about Overwatch.
âJust answer my questions, and everything will go smoothly. Says here youâre the daughter of the Mr. Stark that helped found and lead Overwatch. How old were you when the Switzerland incident occurred?â Reaper asked, paging through the file. This girl wasâŠwell, her family was troubled at least. Heâd 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.
âI was thirteen. I didnât know anything about it. I didnât even some around the headquarters. I was only a childâŠâ 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. âMy father, my mother, my entire family is dead. I donât know what you want from meâŠIâm just a stupid girlâŠâ
Those blue eyes of Sansaâs flicked up to the Specter and it was clear that she was beginning to piece together just who he was.Â
âDo you know why it occurred? What happened?â The Assassin asked, circling the girl. The ghost stopped at the comment of her family.
âTruly unfortunate. They werenât supposed to be killed. Casualties of war, I suppose.â 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.
@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 heelsâŠher heels were cloven hooves.Â
âMissed me- Gabriel?â She landed next to him, healing stream turning blue and invigorating him.Â
Angela Ziegler, the woman who brought him back to life against his will⊠had certainly changed from that day.Â
âNo. That outfit certainly fits you better though.â Reaper looked all over the costume. It certainly looked moreâŠaccurate for her than her previous suit.
âWhy did they feel the need to send you? I can handle myself.â
âThink so?â She does a twirl on one foot while continuing the stream, âWonderful.â Mercy grinned, a bit of strange grin, âOh? They didnât send me Dear, I just felt like coming.âÂ
Then the line went from gold, to blue;Â âHow does that feel? Hmmm? Better?â
Gabriel rolled his eyes behind the mask. If he had it his way, heâd be in a grave at Arlington. But no. He was here, working with the woman...no, the demon that made him what he was.
âFantastic.â 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.
âHave you ever had someone get addicted to that?â 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 itâs stand in the corner were silent, upon which lay a manila envelope.Â
The Ghost opened the envelope, reading the name.Â
âSansa Stark?â
@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. WhatâŠwhat was this thing? Sansa wasnât going to fight. She just wasnât 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.
âY-yesâŠâ  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 didnât care what happened, she would stay silent. She would die before revealing anything about Overwatch.
âJust answer my questions, and everything will go smoothly. Says here youâre the daughter of the Mr. Stark that helped found and lead Overwatch. How old were you when the Switzerland incident occurred?â Reaper asked, paging through the file. This girl was...well, her family was troubled at least. Heâd 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
âWho let you in here? How did-? Never mind. Iâm fine, thanks.â The assassin shrugged off the designer.
âWho hired you again?â Gabriel asked, removing his mask and rubbing his forehead. Nonstop interruptions today, it seemed.
@talonsdesigner
âVery funny,â she said, rolling her eyes. âIâve been here longer than you⊠I think that makes me your senior.â
Mia took a peek at his face. âJust asking. I can never quite tell with the mask.â
âNow youâre the one cracking jokes.â Gabriel said flatly before replacing the mask.
âIs that all you came in here for, or can I help you with something actually related to your job?â Everyone had a job in TALON, and the last psychiatrist didnât leave on good terms. They were scraping him off the for a long time.
âI have a new suit ready,â she said. âSlightly different specifications, so youâll need to do a fitting.â
âIf it all goes smoothly, Weapons has some shotguns to match.â
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.Â
Anything was better than that desert camo coat, after all.Â
Reaper removed his mask and took off his hood, and his eyes flared red for the slightest second.
âLead the way.â He said, gesturing out of his room.
âWhy do you wear the mask on base?â She asked, opening the door to the staircase.
âWe all know what your face looks like.â
âI like it.â He answered simply, holding the door as she opened it.
âSo do I.â Came the slightly more grim response. He wouldnât want to see that if he could avoid it.
Logging Off
"Are you okay? Would you like a hug?"- Talonsdesigner
âWho let you in here? How did-? Never mind. Iâm fine, thanks.â The assassin shrugged off the designer.
âWho hired you again?â Gabriel asked, removing his mask and rubbing his forehead. Nonstop interruptions today, it seemed.
@talonsdesigner
âVery funny,â she said, rolling her eyes. âIâve been here longer than you⊠I think that makes me your senior.â
Mia took a peek at his face. âJust asking. I can never quite tell with the mask.â
âNow youâre the one cracking jokes.â Gabriel said flatly before replacing the mask.
âIs that all you came in here for, or can I help you with something actually related to your job?â Everyone had a job in TALON, and the last psychiatrist didnât leave on good terms. They were scraping him off the for a long time.
âI have a new suit ready,â she said. âSlightly different specifications, so youâll need to do a fitting.â
âIf it all goes smoothly, Weapons has some shotguns to match.â
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.Â
Anything was better than that desert camo coat, after all.Â
Reaper removed his mask and took off his hood, and his eyes flared red for the slightest second.
âLead the way.â He said, gesturing out of his room.
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 itâs stand in the corner were silent, upon which lay a manila envelope.Â
The Ghost opened the envelope, reading the name.Â
âSansa Stark?â
@the-true-queen-in-the-north