Responsibility, Loyalty, Simple Obligation

Indie, semi-selective multimuse RP blog featuring (female) Student from Sifu, a D&D OC paladin of Bane, and possibly others. Tundra sideblog at crucialelement

[warwaited]

du·ty /ˈdo͞odē/ noun noun: duty; plural noun: duties 1. a moral or legal obligation; a responsibility.

Indie, semi-selective multimuse RP blog featuring (female) Student from Sifu, and a D&D OC paladin of Bane. 13 years' experience, open to plotting, shipping, pre-established relationships, crossovers, and other OCs.

An exploration of: predetermined outcomes, sacrifice for a cause, the cycle of violence, and acceptance of self.

Rules | Student | Despot

Art credit: @yngai

[devilshowdy]

@warwaited sent: ✎ | from here ✎ = speaking in a different language.

"h-hey, c'mon now i only caught about a third of that" a pause as she holds up her ridiculous poster board covered in sharpie. "and mosta' it was swearing! if y'don't like my very genius level creative ideas, come up with your own." a forced, dramatic pout. now she's just TRYING to annoying xue.

"no need t'go hurtin' my feelings." thickened southern drawl for effect.

[warwaited]

"Zhìshǎo wǒ yǐqián nàxiē jiějué wèntí de chǔn diǎnzǐ, bùguò shì xiē dānchún de húnào ──bǐrú wúyuán wúgù zòu rén huò zá chuānghù! Dàn zhè dàodǐ suàn shénme guǐ dōngxī?"

SMACK, comes down her palm on the bedside table. "We are not robbing a freakin' bank to get money. We need money, but that is NOT my idea of LYING LOW."

[unhalloweds]

The wizard’s eyes drifted from the quiet stir before himself, a sideways glance at the hobgoblin as the repetition of a low growl emitted from her vocals. Or— to him, it sounded like a growl. With the knife within her palm, if this had been within any other context, Gale may have interpreted the sound as a prefaced threat. The disturbed calm before a storm. 

Though, they were safe in camp, preparing a meal— well, as safe as they could’ve been, given everything about the state of their predicaments.

“I understand to a… degree how that may feel. But for now, it’s best to try and focus on the wee one.” His free hand brought itself up to tap upon his forehead, a pitied smile gracing at each corner of his lips. “And I’m not saying to disregard the idea entirely, but package it. While we are not similar in this regard, you have people around you who are willing to work together. As friends or not is entirely beyond me, however, I can say that you have a safe place with me.”

What a hilarious notion, considering this woman could likely lift him and throw him back to Waterdeep if he’d asked nicely. It was the sentiment that meant more than anything; yes, he’d been a prodigal wizard, but merely so now that his powers were muted under the Netherese disturbance. 

The shift of her form had Gale tilting his own away from the pot, allowing her the room for inspection of the stew. While he didn’t have every tool that would’ve made this job miles easier, he was still overly prideful of the contents he could stir together to create something filling, tasteful. Adapting was the best method in a dire stance such as their own, and Gale was doing his best to take it upon himself to hone his abilities with the concept. 

Perhaps to her eyes, ears, and even nose in this context, he was doing well. 

Rakatak’s note of the bubbled mixture reared the small twist upon his lips, pulling the expression ever higher upon his features. Gale was also someone who appreciated praise in any context that allowed for it, but that was neither here nor there. Maybe it’d simply been the concept of who this validation was coming from, as if he’d been making a traditional meal of her own; this soup was likely far from that, but he could absolutely value what sounded like raw honesty from the hobgoblin’s lips. 

In their short reform together, she didn’t seem like one to mince her wording. 

“I’m glad it has your sponsorship.” The wizard responded, the flit of his eyes trailing back and forth between her inquisition and the stew itself. “As for your question, Gale. For formality I would normally refer to as Gale of Waterdeep, even. But, Gale works just as well.”

He no longer felt like Gale of Waterdeep. Not now. He hadn’t for the year that he’d been hindered by the orb. Not even Gale Dekarios felt right anymore. 

[warwaited]

"Yes, the wee one, how could I possibly have forgotten when it seems to me each and every member of the group boasts their own. At this rate we shall worry first about them forming some manner of link with each other and attempting to negotiate with us." An angry sigh, previous rumination well and truly pushed out of her head by a more obvious and present threat. Small mercies?

On the topic of which, though her praise of the food isn't effusive, there's a particular finality to the way with which Rakatak nods at the cauldron. She won't have to trouble herself with this again, at least tonight, and that in itself is valuable. Her time is valuable, after all, and better spent on pursuits that are not culinary. With that, her gaze rises back to Gale's eyes, and she hears his name (again(?)).

"You know who I am."

Such surety in her tone, beyond even ego. He'd been the one "unfortunate" enough to have his tadpole link with hers, after all, and had for a brief moment been afflicted with the vision of standing at the head of an army, bearing down upon the enemies of the Empire of Rhet.

And, thereafter, another apparition, this time of being brutalized with a whip in an Imperial dungeon. The reason did not penetrate, but the pain certainly had. Through sheer force of personality alone she has forestalled any questioning of that.

"...the others. I've had some time to get the measure of them now, I think. Some could prove quite useful, and some... tchrrr. They may still serve as an opportune distraction."

Ah. Time for some opinions to be shared, it seems. The hobgoblin seats herself again, and gestures widely, as if to catch the entirety of their adventuring party in her grasp. "I have spoken briefly with the otherworlder, Lae'zel. She has a strong back and stronger convictions, which normally I would welcome... but seems likely as not to abandon us if we do not cede to her every whim. Difficult. The berserker, however- Karlach, I think? She will be valuable. I have only seen her fight a pittance and already I want more."

[torrancetribune]

Blyat He knew throwing stones at a goliath like SDN may make him some enemies, would also get him noticed. That wasn't the problem, the real problem was that he had been sitting in this car thinking that Rach was summoning him for some kind of scare tactic... a waste of his time really.

But he has been on their Radar, that meant this meeting could be about anything. He recrosses one leg over the other in a self soothing manor, if Gould had any skill in reading bodies they would know he was mildly uncomfortable.

"I think SDN has too many problems to ignore, I think they mishandle their assets, and I think when your assets range from brilliant minds to terrifying powers, one needs to be held accountable... especially if you are doing this under the dime of the people you are trying to protect... Law enforcement receives the same backlash on the daily, I am simply giving concerned citizens a voice."

Which was bureaucrat for "You got me, but I am not going to talk about it with you".

[warwaited]

Gould nods along, seeming to take in each one of the points offered and consider it, if not outright agree. It's a good pitch if you're trying to make one, though a consummate scam artist like herself is already pretty familiar with the difference between being truthful and being honest.

"Well, yeah, sure, all that's true, but your proposed solution is, what, the Superhero Streaming Service? Even if you managed to convince me you weren't getting kickbacks from it, which you can't," she laughs, "I'd be willing to bet that would end up making its own cabal a whole hell of a lot faster. But whatever. Not my business."

The car rolls to a stop, and the loudly-dressed fast talker perks up. "Ooh- all right, Vick, this has been great, but you've got an important meeting to get to. You ever need somebody to land a difficult interview or something, you let me know, huh? I'm real good at making friends."

Down come the shades again. Her eyes glint, Gould blasts him with another finger gun, and the door opens. Judging by the sheer mass of the passenger up front who's now gesturing for Viktor to get out of the car, it's not an idly made suggestion.

[variantia]

If someone had asked Sevika a few years ago where she thought she'd be now, this wouldn't have been it. If they told her even just a few weeks before Silco died that this would be her life now, she would have scoffed at them. She would have said Jinx was volatile, but there was no way it was her hand that would kill Silco. And there was no way Zaun would just FALL APART without him. Someone would step in. Leadership is a vacuum, and nature abhors a vacuum.

But the throne is empty, and everyone's too busy fighting for it to actually try to work on uniting Zaun. Too busy fucking killing each other to have any care for their homes or the streets that bore them. Sevika has to try, even if she's terrible at it. At least most of the others listen to her for the simple fact she can kick their asses.

This one, though. This kid who's not a kid anymore. She looks vaguely familiar to Sevika as someone who was around back then, a lot younger — those days feel like another lifetime at this point. Sevika was a different person back then, too. A better person, maybe. By now she doesn't know, really, whether she's trying to improve the undercity or just keep it from dying the slow, painful, rotting death she's always been afraid it's going to die.

A long, frustrated breath leaves Sevika, and she runs a hand through her bangs. ( It still doesn't feel like her, sometimes. She looks into a mirror some mornings and doesn't recognize herself. ) " You might not be a kid anymore, but you're still a kid. " Biting, in a way she apparently can't stop herself from being even when trying to reason with someone. " You think I want any of this ? You think I'm gonna set people loose in your little corner of the undercity just to fuck it up ? "

The mention of shimmer touches a nerve, in particular. It's something Sevika herself used to use — that first prosthetic she got was powered by it. She can still remember what it was like, and why she pushed herself to stop depending on it. It's not necessarily something she wants for Zaun, but Silco brought it in, and the rest of the chembarons are fully prepared to keep spreading it. Nobody else got out of it like she did.

" Not my people, " she adds, as if she thinks that's going to help anything. She doesn't make an attempt to address the other points Xue's brought up. She also doesn't move any closer, though. " JUST ME. Maybe Jinx. You act like I wanna see anything happen to anybody, and I don't. You wanna fight, come at me. But don't you dare act like I'm pretending about wanting what's best. Maybe I'm fucking things up, but you don't think any of the others killing each other to take my place are gonna be a thousand times worse ? I'm doing the best I can. "

It's just. Very unfortunate. That Sevika's best isn't exactly stellar.

[warwaited]

"Oh. You're desperate."

It falls out of her unbidden and despite the animosity Sevika can see Xue's face pinch, visible proof that those words were not intended for the open air. But, what other explanation is there? Sevika. Alone. Maybe Jinx, the woman that kicked off this whole uprising in the first place. She's taken her position, and it's not one that plays well with the forces vying for control of Zaun.

For a few agonizing moments, it's only silence between them, the Ghost chewing over whether what's been said to her is likely to be true, and how she could manage to justify allowing (by her estimation) some of the worst of the worst into what she sees as a sanctuary from Zaun's... Zaun.

A decision is reached.

Xue takes two steps towards the wall and gently lays the pipe she'd taken up against it, keeping her eyes on the former second-in-command as she does so. Then, she straightens up, the difference in height and build not exactly cutting an intimidating figure but the look in her eyes at least making up some of the difference.

"...you're a mobster," she murmurs, "and no amount of intent will change that. The purpose of a system is what it does, and I've seen what it did. Don't act like the cause I choose to stake my life on is any less valuable because I've been here less time than you."

A beat. "But... if it really is only you. You're... a refugee. And I suppose I can't hold you personally responsible for the war you're fleeing."

After all, those are the kinds of people Xue picks up, doesn't she? People who don't have better prospects. People who just don't want to be involved in the cannibalism of the chem barons. People who want to have peace.

Though she certainly hasn't acquiesced to bringing on Jinx.

[devilshowdy]

@warwaited ❤'d for some affection

fingertips dance lightly over xue's shoulder. ashe steals the barstool next to her and tugs her close in a short embrace. uncharacteristically cheerful for the outlaw. cherry red lips perk into a smile. "ain't nothin' more peaceful than an empty hotel bar at the good ol' witchin' hour" a nudge, trying to break her from whatever trance she's in. "come on now, things've been quiet 'n uneventful the last few weeks. ain't that kinda . . . what we wanted? or am i missin' somethin'?"

[warwaited]

This pose is becoming familiar. Leaning forward, forearms on knees, hands clasped between them. The bouncing of her foot denotes the internal tumult - though she does sit up straighter and smile when Ashe's voice rouses her from whatever thought had gripped her mind.

"Mh? Oh... well-... yeah. I mean, yeah, of course." Not convincing, and Xue doesn't try to mask it for more than a couple seconds afterwards. "I don't know. I feel like... I'm missing something. It's not that I'm bored, it's..."

A soft sigh. Silence, trying to find a proper explanation.

"I think I might be... addicted to stress. Or something. And I'm only realizing because this is the first time I haven't had it."

[unhalloweds]

It’d been the stutter of her vocals that caught his attention; Genji was trained in the art of interrogation, thanks to his Blackwatch days. Even sprinkled within that mix, he’d been no stranger to what it was like to pry information from people, whether by means of force or not. Now was thankfully the aforementioned, just an easy conversation between two people– but his ears were tuned to note when something seemed astray. 

Was she potentially lying? Or forming a different story? That may be silly on her behalf, especially if she’d gotten close with Hanzo in any capacity for this story to be fact checked by his brother. 

However, Genji refrained from the instinct to tilt his features with intrigue, patiently awaiting her response to what should have been a few easy questions.

Ah. 

A turf war was… one way to put it, if that turf also extended itself out into the rest of the world. He’d presumed her to be speaking of the Hashimoto and the Yokai; granted, there was always some form of territory clashes considered within the heart of Japan. These two rival groups just, at this time, were the loudest– the most dangerous, in his opinion. On both halves of the fence; one was a well-established criminal organization, while the other was a ragtag group of kids who were trying to prove themselves in a fight that may not have been suited for them. Genji admired the enthusiasm and the drive– he did, he just had starkly mixed feelings on the matter. Kiriko had no less training than himself and he trusted that she had everyone’s best interest in mind. 

The cyborg hummed at her reply, a stark nod shuffling itself from the cant of mechanics. “Well, if you were to be working for the criminal gangs, I could assume that you would not be standing here before me now. Hanzo wouldn’t let you walk that far– or at all, if we are being honest.” 

Hanzo was just as invested in the safety of Tokyo– in Genji’s opinion, it was something for him. A drive, in an essence; a hand in the matter where the outcomes were for positivity, proven results.

Genji almost laughed at her wording– figured out they were different people. Even from the few short moments that he’d gotten to speak with her, that much had been evident. She was a wild opposition to his brother’s reclusive nature. “And he sent you to me with the hopes that I would pick up his shortcomings? Very unlike him.” Though, the cyborg smiled unbeknownst to her. “But, at the same time, extremely like him to push it away whenever he’s faced with his own failure. I can, with confidence, say that I am willing to help you wherever you think you need the aid most. I will provide as much as I can.” And if he knew anything about his brother, it wouldn’t be emotional support.

Or… perhaps it was, and this was precisely why she’d been sent to him. Genji was… not entirely in tune with his own feelings, but it was a significant jump from where he’d been years ago. At this point now, he would be open to working with another on their own, if that’d been the case. 

At the drop of her name, finally, Genji gave a short bow in her direction. “It’s nice to meet you as well. And again, I apologize for the time you’ve spent with my brother. I mean that lightheartedly and somewhat seriously. I… know how he can be.” 

However, there is something redeeming in the referral from Hanzo; it felt like a silent til of trust thrown his way. If that’s what it’d been. Aside from his prior working theory, what else could Genji provide that Hanzo couldn’t? The thought pattern was mostly rhetoric from where he’d been trying to connect his own dots. 

“Well.” The cyborg extends a hand toward the door, “There’s a little shop around the corner here. Let’s continue… elsewhere.”

[warwaited]

"Ha ha ha ha. Well that's the freakin' problem, isn't it, I was just beating the hell out of anybody who seemed like they needed it and to an outside viewer that kinda seemed like I was pulverizing the Yokai, which Hanzo didn't like, but I was also flattening the Hashimoto, which was pissing... I forget her name. There's this other lady I was pissing off by smacking around her goons."

The ebb and flow of conversation seems to be about the same as a fight, by her estimation. You take what ground you can, shy away from what's gonna cause you trouble, and maaaybe you both come out of it better for the experience. Of course, it's kind of tripping her up listening to Genji talk all this crap about his own brother.

If she had a brother... does she have a brother? If she had a brother and he was around, Xue would be nice to him.

"But, uh, the first time we fought he kept up with me pretty good, which was a surprise since he's, like, forty or something. I guess when you're... whatever he is... you can stay in the game longer before you gotta start worrying about your joints exploding." The bow is a bit of a surprise, but not as much as it would have been if Xue hadn't already spent some time in Japan. Her own in return is... not as clipped, but there's a lot of feeling behind it.

Although. Point of order. She might not understand the elder Shimada much, but they do share something of a bond - forged in fire, and many training sessions. "He didn't fail. S'like I said, we're just different people. Everybody needs to learn the way they're meant to be taught, and you can't teach in a way you don't know how to."

Shrug.

"Maybe you're not gonna do it either, and then you're both gonna be "failures". And I'm gonna move onto somebody else. Got someone in mind?"

Despite the barbed language, the question itself sounds rather playful. Xue sets out, overtaking the ninja before realizing he's the one who knows where they're going and falling into step beside him instead.

[sombrabyalex]

Purple irises flickered up at the other mid swipe. "Oh threaten violence. That always works." Her eyes rolled at the other. "Okay fine. Fine."

She sighs before moving to lean against a wall. "Firstly, there's very rarely a case of questions being stupid." She started counting on her fingers. "Second, walking up to people? That's not my style unless I want more than a friendship. Why do you think I was invisible, chica? Third, no. I'm not with the Hashimoto."

[warwaited]

Oh, so she thinks she's freakin' cool. She thinks she's tough. She thinks she's all that, she thinks she doesn't have to play by the rules when she's on the field. Xue's half-tempted to just start spouting off in her own language for the required volume of fire to inform this lady, whoever she is, of what a bad idea it is to mess with Xue Jiangwei.

Buuut if she needs more clarification from her buddies she's going to have to speak a language they understand, so...

"Oh. Okay. An autograph, then? Or you just like being creepy." Or a coward. Anyone who wouldn't be confident enough to show their own freakin' face around someone they're trying to learn more about... Xue sidles around the table she was standing behind and moves towards this newcomer with purpose.

"Got a lot of nerve just waltzing in here, invisible or not."

[sombrabyalex]

Sombras hand had already been trying to brush the glitter off. She already knew that this would be a mess. The fine particles of glitter were bound to get stuck inside of her tech. Poor fool who'd have to dig each piece out later, particularly the ones she couldn't reach. She seriously doubted she was in danger. People usually didn't ask questions before they started swinging.

"You made this a lot harder than it needed to be." Sombra didn't even bring her gaze to the other. "Is getting to know people from a distance really that bad. It isn't like you were changing."

[warwaited]

"Zhè shì shénme chǔn wèntí- you were three feet away! And invisible! Maybe if you wanna get to know somebody better you ask them, ah?" There's a hot shade of embarrassment for... a reason Xue couldn't quite vocalize if you asked her. Even if she wasn't doing anything bad (well, she was, but she's in good company for it), there's something offputting about knowing she was being creeped on by this lady with the... singular fashion sense.

"I'll hit you with a lot worse than freakin' glitter if you don't explain what the hell you're doing trying to sneak around me and my buddies, lady. What, did the, uh..."

"Hashimoto," offers one of her entourage.

"Did the Hashimoto send you?"

[unhalloweds]

In a moment that felt like it’d been about to erupt at any second, all Mei was able to do was take another step back and watch with wide eyes as the violent ripples of purple danced within the woman’s core. As if it’d been the source was one that provided sustenance to her being, with the way it’d extended itself outward toward each extremity, highlighting the asymmetrical make of veins, tendons. 

Each flame descaled itself, embarking downward toward Xue’s legs before spiraling around her feet. The remnants of energy were akin to that last wane of a flame once water had been dumped onto it; still vibrating, a phantom sensation of anticipation despite the diminish of warmth. 

As a last ditch attempt, if Mei felt that she’d been more threatened, she would’ve equipped her blaster and readied the opposition to this woman’s spirit. 

Xue says it’s fine, but Mei knows gravely that this situation was anything but fine. She knew her mistake the moment the wall began to construct from the ground. 

Regardless, she’d been less expecting the apology that came from Xue’s mouth. Albeit passive and… not as heartfelt as most apologies tended to be; though perhaps that was just Mei and how she was. She couldn’t imagine herself feeling a rage to that degree, and she could only assume the steps one needed to take to cool down from such an ember of aggression. 

Quite literally, in this case. 

“It’s… okay,” the climatologist began, a hint of apprehension teasing in her response, “I understand why you are upset, and I wish we could reverse the time and redo my mistake. Unfortunately, neither of us have Lena’s abilities.” She’d smiled— or attempted to find a grace upon her features to add levity to the conversation. “Next time. We will do better next time. These results and this mistake will yield us an optimal exchange when we work together next. After all, a mistake is what makes us better.”

[warwaited]

"I don't think either of us want to be able to do what Tracer can do, if I'm being real with you." Her hand comes up to rub at the back of her neck, and the last dregs of that unnatural fury depart from her. Xue's shoulders slump, the breath she lets out similarly heavy as the feelings weighing on her frame.

Despite how it might seem, it isn't lost on her that Mei's... frightened. Of her. Normally a good feeling, proof positive that the world is aware that each second Xue's alive is a threat against its life. This is... not that. This is more like seeing terror in the face of someone she wants to protect, and the notion of scaring off someone she cares about? Takes the wind out of her sails possibly even faster than getting hosed down with the cryo-blaster would have.

"Train more. I know I can be tough to keep track of when I'm all heated up and freakin' running around at mach three. Just, like... you're right. We're close to being a really good team, and... hmh."

How to explain this feeling she has.

"I want to be a good team with you. I wanna... learn how to work together with somebody, and when things go right? We kick. Ass. And I want to kick a lot of ass!" A slightly breathless laugh, even her being aware of the fact that her declaration isn't exactly heroic.

The smile fades. She clears her throat. "I'm sorry for yelling. You don't deserve it, even if you did screw up. If someone yelled at me I'd just knock their block off."

But Mei wouldn't even consider it.

"How 'bout we put some time aside to... coordinate. Like you said."

[unhalloweds]

Genji’s reconnection with Hanzo had been recent.

Until his run with the Hashimoto, he’d been assisting Overwatch. Everything was cyclic by nature; he understood that paths may cross and intertwine themselves again, but he hadn’t entertained the idea that they would be this intimately designed, destined to overlap once more. Perhaps it’d been his own denial in the grace of everything happening in the world; new and old faces had been showing themselves left and right, some from his past and some from a newly carved future that he’d yet to discover. 

This lady had been one of the latter. 

Hanzo didn’t mention this woman; it wasn’t as though they had ample time to immediately sit and retell every second of their life. However, this felt more important in the grand scheme of things, mostly because Genji couldn’t believe that this woman was a student of Hanzo’s. 

Perhaps his brother had changed, after all.

“As his student? I find it hard to believe that my brother has taken someone… so loud under his wings.” The last time he tried to do that, they almost ended up dead. 

Genji felt his lips twinge, a brief, downward cast tinted with sorrow; as if the muscles twitched themselves disobediently upon the memories. “How did you find him? Or, how did he find you? I don’t have the details of this… relation?” Nor could Genji fathom the idea of Hanzo simply approaching this woman for small talk. 

With idle eyes, the cyborg watched the restless pull of energy within the woman’s body, this time making his scarred lips twitch into a smile. It deepened itself upon hearing the quote from his brother. 

Ah, that sounds more like him.

“Hanzo runs from things that are too much for him. He will never admit to that, but it is an ironic trait from someone who is strong-willed and determined as he is. It is, in the saddest way, a form of how he cares. Not being able to perfect something or someone in a way that he would be satisfied with is… unsavory, to him.” Genji responded, the tilt to his features following each movement before himself. If their conversation hadn’t been full of the depth that it had, he may have joined her. 

The silence that followed left him to momentarily contemplate the following of this woman with his brother. Why did Hanzo feel compelled to teach her? And teach her what? He’d made a note to himself to question this whenever he saw him next. In the momentary reprieve, he’d cast his features downward, as if the solitary introspection sent him somewhere else before the vocalization of her statement hit his ears. 

Overwatch. 

A place that used to be his family, his home. A newfound home after everything that’d happened at the castle. After his own family fell, thanks to his own hands. Mechanical plates shifted as he tilted his features up, the aura of the illuminating green sealing the plate of his eyes igniting itself with a simple flash. 

“How about we take this conversation and have it over some tea? We could also start with you telling me your name, as it’s clear you know who I am.”

[warwaited]

Nose wrinkles, brow knits, and she opens her mouth. "Loud? What's that-"

Fortunately Genji keeps talking and cuts her off, with a question that the upstart is equipped to answer. Xue clears her throat and nods. "R-... right. Uh, it was kinda funny, actually... see, I was in Tokyo because..."

Already in dangerous waters, and the verbal backspace isn't especially subtle. "I was in Tokyo. Turns out that there's some kind of freakin' turf war going on up there that's between the, uh, established criminal gangs and a different criminal gang that's... good guys? Or at least less bad. I didn't know that at the time so I was just pulling up on everybody, and Hanzo was all the way over on one side of the fight where I was kinda in the middle, so he wanted to figure out what the hell my deal was."

Her leg goes over and down, Xue coming back down to two feet. She twists her neck next, earning a couple of small cracks (and a third one after she presses her knuckles against the side of her chin to turn her head further). "Once we figured out we didn't have much of a reason to try and kill each other, he was pretty... firm on me working with him instead of doing my own thing." From there, her training had begun, though it's up in the air how much she properly internalized.

"But I think he figured out that we're different people, and he couldn't really help me in the way that... I... needed it. So he told me about you, sort of, and told me about Overwatch, a little. He thought you guys would be, like, hiding out or something, which I didn't really get."

And still doesn't.

"Anyway, I used some of my fight money to buy a plane ticket and after that I just asked about the Lindholm workshop, aaand..." Another shrug.

"Found it." She might've continued, but is brought up short by the suggestion of tea. And realizing that she's kind of spilled most of the story before the tea-having could actually happen. "Oh- crap, yeah, sorry, I'm Xue Jiangwei. Former scariest thing in Tokyo. Heh. Good to meet you."

Another pause. She chews the inside of her cheek. "He... didn't talk about you very much, but he's a pretty good judge of character, and he said you'd have what I... need. So."

[torrancetribune]

Dollars are not a concern, if nothing else this was a waste of time, and that was something he had only precious amount of. He lifts his hand, a single shake of his head to dismiss the offer.

"Nyet, none for me, thank you"

The sooner this ride was over the better, but it made little sense to drive in silence, yapping aside, this loose tongue may serve some purpose if it truly was as bombastic as it appears.

"Does your employer truly invite every reporter that writes a less than stunning piece on them?" He has to imagine he isn't the first, but there may be a reason no one else has done it in recent memory.

[warwaited]

"Nah, you're a special case. Actually, most of the time stuff like that doesn't even make it to Ms. Etaque's desk, but what can I say. Your publication's made a pretty regular habit of puttin' out hit pieces on SDN, so I guess you were on her radar. Lucky you."

Gould shrugs and stows her gum back in that ridiculous windbreaker, leaning back and lacing her fingers behind her head. The picture of casual relaxation. "But, you know how the saying goes. You only get one first impression! I figure she wants to talk to you personally because she's been seeing your name so often."

The... whatever-she-is blows a bubble, and finally lowers her sunglasses. A little. Vibrant green eyes attempt to meet Viktor's gaze, and she smiles more conspiratorially.

"But I can see why a guy might like to discredit the Superhero Company. Right? Lemme guess, you've got your own angles?"

[warwaited]

"Ah, man, come on. Rain's not for being sad, that's wind. And sometimes fog. Rain is for training! When there's a storm going on you gotta get out in it and show it what you are!"

"Wind lets you get the, y'know, your clothes blowing dramatically and having it tousle your hair and stuff while you think about what you lost."

[devilshowdy]

ashe ain't exactly new to xue's demonstrations of violence. and boy howdy have they come in handy with bounty hunters 'n the what-not. but this felt more connected to . . . the bullshit with that writer they had stored away in the backrooms. and if she wanted to keep xue from having a meltdown. "this ain't you, kid." a gentle hand on the other's shoulder. "no, i reckon this has somethin' to do with that writer we took in. i ain't uh" a long sigh as she brushes her fingertips against the inky material on the wall. "ain't been completely straight with ya' about him. when he showed up, brought these things that've been skulking around in the night. n-now he assured me they couldn't get into lit places, they're weak to lights or somethin' so i figured everythin' was all good as long as we stayed inside." well that all sounded batshit crazy aloud, and she's praying her companion believes it all. "regardless, i'm positive you didn't evaporate some random into nothingness." 100% not exactly, but close enough. curious brow rose though and she can't help but ask.

" . . . what exactly makes you think this coulda' been you though?" maybe, just maybe there's some worry bubbling in the pit of her stomach over it.

[warwaited]

Those watchful, brown-almost-black eyes take in Ashe as she explains the... situation. She doesn't know Alan very well yet, not least because Ashe has taken care to minimize the amount they interact with each other. From what she can tell, he's kind of got the same problems as Ashe does, in a different way. Stressed out, sad, doesn't have a lot of options. But this new stuff, uh...

"...okay? So we take care of 'em. We're good at taking care of stuff, and you know me... I can turn any place into a lit place." There's some of the bravado Xue's been trying out now that she isn't quite so uncertain of where her next meal's going to be coming from.

The smile might not be the most convincing, but she's trying. "But- uh."

Why does she think this could have been her? Xue presses her lips together, quietly rolling a shoulder before she responds. Ordering her thoughts.

"...I don't... really know what I can and can't do. And that's kinda scary sometimes, y'know. I mean, I'm also pretty sure this wasn't me unless I... sleep exploded somebody, or freakin'... blacked out and went on a rampage, but... I don't know if I couldn't do it. You've seen what I can do to people."

[unhalloweds]

ᴄᴏɴꜰɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟ ᴅᴏᴄᴜᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ. . .

@warwaited with "I swear you put a big wall in front of my freakin' face ONE MORE TIME-" (from xue, for mei!)

Mei took a step back, the warm chestnut of her eyes widening under the infraction of the sound barrier around her. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry— I normally have a better depth of where I place them, and I miscalculated that. I also do announce when I’m building them, but I will admit to a mistake with that.” Her hands came together as she spoke, the gloved enclosure of her digits bracing themselves tighter as though she were pleading with the other woman. 

“Let’s better coordinate next time. You are an amazing fighter, and our skills together could be unstoppable.” Despite the frightened collection of her expression, the scientist’s tone evened itself from its original inflection based in apology. A subtle smile even began to breach over her features at her suggestion, the flux of her palms opening up with a downward tilt to her digits, as if the idea could displace itself into a projection of a regretful demonstration. 

[warwaited]

Xue growls. Her fists clench in front of her, muscles in her forearms bulging with the effort being expended to... restrain herself from... something. Purple energy builds up in her chest, travels up from her biceps to her brachioradialis, and-

She forcefully throws both arms down, any destructive force that she might've been tempted to direct into the climatologist instead bursting around her feet in an uneven circle. Tantrum successfully averted, the one known as Discyple folds her arms and looks away, still breathing heavily through her nose.

"It's fine." It's obviously not fine but she doesn't want to fight with this poor lady. Mei's nice. She's one of the people who's most made Xue feel like she could make a home among these people, and that's hard. She's also one of the only people that knows any Cantonese...

Another deep breath, this one less tinged with badly-restrained furor.

"I shouldn't yell at you. It's just- yeah. I don't gotta- you know already. You're right, we should coordinate. I'm pissed off because if there was a wall behind me when I got started it'd be a freakin' nightmare for those Talon guys and it'd be awesome. But when it's in front of me..."

[unhalloweds]

ᴄᴏɴꜰɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟ ᴅᴏᴄᴜᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ. . .

@warwaited with "Your brother isn't much of a talker either. Or... maybe I just don't know how to talk to him. The first time I met him, I learned a lot, but. Heh. Nooot because of anything he told me. Are we gonna be the same way, or...?" (from xue, for genji!)

“You’ve met my brother? I don’t know if you’re seeking an apology or guidance. I can only offer you one in this context.”

Genji tilted his features, the mechanical whir of each instrument upon his body shifting in tandem with the gesture. “Hanzo is wise, perhaps too full of what he thinks to be a perfected wisdom for his age. He has always been like that— I apologize for that being your introduction.”

But now it has Genji curious— Hanzo has met this woman? Why? Under what context, and why was there no talking involved?

Before he’d let his mind drift itself to parameters where little talking was incorporated, the elegantly distorted drive of his vocals filtered between them once more, “I cannot say that Hanzo and I are alike in that matter. In fact, we are extremities to the spectrum. I am not so quiet in that regard.”

[warwaited]

"Okay, good, I'm not quiet either. Yeah, uh, so." She pauses, quickly weighing how much of the story to tell and how much to let Genji find out on his own... assuming he and his brother are on speaking terms. She hadn't exactly gotten a clear explanation from Hanzo... "Actually he's the guy who sent me to you. We met in Tokyo and I kinda... I mean, I spent a little time as his... student? He was real freakin' insistent that that's not what I was, but also he was trying to teach me stuff every day so who knows."

Xue stretches. Twists side to side, and, seemingly without a thought for the conversation she's currently having, raises a leg to almost a vertical split. Her hands find her thigh, just above the joint of her knee, and she pushes the bend a little further with a soft grunt - still talking.

"I don't mind. Everybody's different. But... he said that I was "a heart he couldn't shelter". Or some crap. So, uh."

Dramatic pause stretches into uncomfortable silence.

"Heee also wasn't super clear on what Overwatch was."

[warwaited]