It happens to everyone - sometimes, you have nights where you just can't fall asleep, no matter what you do. It could be for a number of reasons, or no reason at all. And this is what's happened now: you've been laying in bed for what feels like hours, just tossing and turning, and nothing seems to help. So what's left to do? Get out of bed and go wake someone else up, of course. If you're not getting any sleep, then why should they?
i n s t r u c t i o n s • Post with your character (note the name and fandom in the subject).
• Other people reply to you by generating a number from 1 to 10.
• Have fun!
o p t i o n s 01 • FEAR. Maybe you're hearing strange, indeterminable noises; maybe there's a severe storm happening outside; maybe you watched a scary movie before bed? Whatever the reason, you're terrified and it's keeping you awake. You just want to wake someone else up so they can protect you from the monster in your closet.
02 • HUNGER. Your stomach is growling and it just won't stop. Or perhaps your throat is so dry you could cough up a tumbleweed? Well, you've gone to the kitchen to remedy this and hey, that was a pan that just dropped on the floor. It was loud enough to wake the dead! Oops.
03 • PAIN. Your body is completely worn out, be it from exercise, battle, sickness, or what have you. Either way you're in enough pain to keep you from sleeping, so maybe someone else has a home remedy or something, or can at least help you take your mind off of it.
04 • SOLITUDE. For some reason, your bed just feels so empty at the moment. You're feeling terribly lonely and really just want someone to keep you company for a while. Maybe it'd be easier to fall asleep if you're with them...
05 • DISCOMFORT. Your room is an oven. Either that or a freezer. Or maybe this bed is just really uncomfortable? Who knows why you can't get to sleep, it feels like it could be anything. Why even bother trying? Maybe someone else can preoccupy you until you feel tired enough to ignore your discomfort.
06 • PENSIVE. Something's on your mind, and no matter how hard you try to focus elsewhere, it's just not going to work. Your body may be tired, but your mind is incredibly busy and it's virtually impossible to get to sleep. Surely, talking it out with someone else will help?
07 • SADNESS. Something terrible has happened that day, perhaps; or you could just be severely depressed. Either way you're trying your hardest not to cry yourself to sleep, and it's not working at all. Better find a way to get it out of your system somehow; you need a shoulder to cry on.
08 • ANGER. You are just... fuming. Who knows why - that annoying dog is barking again, or maybe the people next door are getting busy and keeping you awake. Whatever the reason for your ire is, you'd better put an end to it so you can get some damn rest already! Go wake up a friend so you can complain to them.
09 • RESTLESS. You're far too energetic to sleep right now. Maybe you're just trying to do so out of necessity - you have to be up early tomorrow! But you just don't think you'll be able to fall asleep for a while now, so why waste the time trying to sleep when you could be doing something else? Namely bothering someone else - you're totally jealous because they're getting more sleep than you.
10 • WILDCARD. Choose one of the options above, or make up your own scenario. |
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bakerstreet2016-05-28 07:14 pm
no subject
All this is quickly turning into a waste of time, and he simply doesn't have the energy to keep it going. Luckily, McCree seems to realize this about the same time he does, and he manages to roll away and scramble to his feet.
He doesn't expect the breather to last long, so he tries to take stock of his equipment while he can. Rifle is within reach, but within reach of McCree as well. His visor and mask have long been thrown away, but he scans the barn floor for them iust in case. After a moment, however, he figures it's more prudent to keep an eye on McCree--make sure he's not going for his own gun. He wipes blood off the corner of his mouth and settles into a defensive stance. 76 doesn't want to give his opponent reason to focus on his uncovered face, but it's hard not to be a little snide, after that.]
Had enough yet?
no subject
...
[Shit was he... His fighting style, the voice, him knowing about the recall... no. No way... McCree looks increasingly uncomfortable, and then there's a flash of anger in his eyes as he takes a step backwards.]
I don't know, you tell me if I'm looking at a dead man or not.
[He waggles his gun.]
You'd better make your answer loud and clear, soldier.
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Besides, he doesn't consider himself the same person anymore.]
Pulling that trigger's no trouble if I'm a dead man, right?
[76 won't give him the answer he wants. Getting shot will hurt, sure, but he's wearing body armor, and presumably McCree wants to take him alive.]
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Just not in the way he would most other dead men he knew.
He could shoot him in the foot or thigh or something for that stupid answer. It'd probably feel cathartic if nothing else but there'd be no point in it beyond that. His lip curls and he spits out all the frustration that was welling up inside his mouth and the way all that said spit hits the ground with a loud justifiable splat that seems to almost be cathartic enough.]
Say it. [He growls and waggles the gun again. It's the only demand he'll make of this encounter, something he hopes results in a better answer.] Your name. Your real one.
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Don't have one.
[He knows McCree won't find that to be a satisfactory answer. He takes a step closer to his gun.]
Sorry to disappoint.
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He can't, though. He can't ignore it now. Christ... was Jack even aware of what happened to Overwatch after Switzerland went sky high, or did he watch everyone fall apart and say nothing to it? ...Like he did? Sure explains the dogged tenacity in sticking his nose in places they don't belong. Now all that makes much more sense. Some part of him is even elated he hasn't really kicked the bucket just yet. Some part of him is even envious he did a better job of it than McCree, but, McCree also had a slightly different methodology enacting his brand of justice. He wouldn't stick that in a grave.
McCree tries to think of a way to get his answer, maybe rephrase the question but he gives up and shakes his head a little, licking his lips. He doesn't need to hear it, satisfying as it would be. He already knows it and furthermore he knows he won't get it out of him.]
You piece of jack shit--[He's so frustrated he says the name as part of the insult unintentionally (though the insult is fully intended), and quickly adds on:] Jack-Shit. That's befittin' of you. [Jack-Shit. His new name.]
You know what--[McCree shrugs audibly and decides he's too old to be getting worked up about this, even if he really has every right, and holsters his gun with a huff.] I don't care if you want to put on a mask and keep your death.
[He tips his hat up, trying very hard to take back his laissez-faire attitude.] But you sure messed up my bounty. [He points his finger, practically as if it was his gun.] You owe me about ten-million.
[Jack-Shit-Jack and Piece-of-Shit-McCree.]
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[Even if, ironically, McCree is probably the one who would understand the most.
But he certainly doesn't owe him an explanation. Maybe if this was Angela or Reinhardt or Lena, but it's not. If it were any of those people, he'd have to explain himself, but McCree did the exact same thing as him, just without the grave.
Still, 76 is acutely aware that what he did was, on some level, unacceptable. Overwatch was finished anyway, but he'd left them all to deal with the fallout. He could have come back, but at the time he'd been so shell-shocked and betrayed that he felt it best to disappear. His punishment for letting everyone down so thoroughly.
And after that, when it was clear that the world didn't want or need them anymore, it just became easier to stay dead. Dead, or reinvented as something else. Let them have their statues and their plaques and their memory of him. They don't need to know who he is now.
Speaking of which--now that the cat is out of the bag, he locates the remnants of his visor. There's a not insubstantial amount of squinting involved. He can't go near his gun? Fine. 76 goes to the pieces of his mask, instead, picking it up off the floor and not caring whether McCree is going to shoot at him or not. The red glass isn't salvageable, but thankfully the lower part is mostly intact. He starts inspecting it. It's like McCree isn't even there, at least until he starts talking about owing ten million.]
You owe me a new tactical visor.
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He as least starts to think if Jack were going to kill him he wouldn't be messing with his broken visor on the ground, so McCree goes over to the rifle and picks it up, turning it on its side and duly not pointing it at 76.]
More tech you liberated from
blackGrand Mesa?no subject
Or make McCree do it, seeing as he's the one who busted it in the first place. There's an idea.
He seems to forget about the visor, however, when McCree picks up the rifle. That had been a bitch to get, and he's not going to let anything happen to it. 76 stretches his hand out for it.]
They weren't doing anything with it.
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Been a while, though.]
Wasn't the only thing there.
[Slowly he hands the rifle back but keeps his hand on it while he makes the exchange with 76. He needs to look him dead in the eye (now that he rightly can), like he's seeing an old friend, a stranger, and possibly a new friend all at once. Or a new pain in the ass.
It's hard to choke all that down so the hard, prolonged stare will just have to suffice where words won't. He lets go of the rifle and his features soften, though it seems somewhat forced.]
You look like shit.
[He takes a step back, hesitant like he wasn't sure if he wanted to step away but follows through with it and drifts more into the barn.]
I can spare a few supplies for however long you plan on staying. [One vigilante to another. That's all that generosity is. Ain't nothing more than that.] Fresh outta' band-aids, though. [He's not expecting him to stay long.]
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No thanks to you.
[But he understands what McCree means. He's not talking about minor damage sustained in the scuffle. 76 is under no illusions about how he came out the other side of the explosion that rocked HQ, and he can only imagine that seeing him back from the dead and that much more shellshocked is more than a little disconcerting. He feels McCree's eyes on him but he doesn't meet them as he takes the rifle back and moves it to his side of the barn.
After a very long moment of hesitation, 76 decides that he's not really in any shape to head back out. Biting down the kneejerk reaction to get as far away from McCree as possible isn't easy, but he'll manage. He knows, despite everything, that he's got nothing to fear from this particular ex-agent. At the offer of supplies, he sits down slowly at the fire, exhaling audibly as he goes.]
You didn't answer me about the recall.
[That's when he meets McCree's eyes. Maybe now he'll feel like talking about it.]
no subject
Yeah.
[He finally mutters, tapping a fresh stick out then puts the rest away. Didn't always have something to cut it, so he just uses his teeth and carefully bites the end-cap away and spits it into the dirt. He wasn't about to be any more elegant about this and decides to save himself a little butane when there's a fire right in front of him. Once it's smoldering he leans back and takes a deep drag, letting the smoke swirl around his mouth and soaks in the flavor of it. Makes him forget about the welt that's sure to form at his temple.]
I got it. Still prefer to do my own thing.
[He'll meet and keep 76's stare. He's not afraid to do that.]
Can't help it if I might cross paths with any of them.
[He means with the rest of Overwatch as they're getting the band back together... or attempting to, apparently, anyway. McCree had no intentions of being in an organized group like that again, but, well... the world did need heroes. It did need justice. He just wanted to go about it his own way. No rules, no remorse, no complications.
'Cept the latter wasn't as easy to come by as he thought.]
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He's not surprised to hear McCree has no plans to answer the recall (or maybe McCree is just saying that and is texting Winston behind is back or something, but that seems unlikely), and offers little more than a growl in affirmation. It's definitely for the best. 76 is still trying to figure out what he thinks of the recall himself. The larger, more cynical part of him knows there isn't any point--that they're all going to needlessly get themselves in trouble. That Winston is far too idealistic to lead a new Overwatch back into the world that rejected them, and it's all going to crumble before they begin, even without taking Talon into account.
76 is sure he doesn't have to say that if and when McCree crosses paths with other ex-agents, he'd prefer that there's no mention of this. Still, he hadn't expected to be outed, though he supposes the cowboy is probably the best-case scenario. He tries to hold onto the thought of potentially having an ally, to bite down the overwhelming urge to disappear again.
The cigar (if McCree obliged him with one) and the remnants of his visor are a good distraction. It's a little easier to get a better look in the light of the campfire, but he's still obviously squinting at the bent fastenings. After a few long moments, he has a better idea.]
You get to fix this.
[Heads up. He's tossing the face mask across the bonfire. Catch.]
no subject
You sure fall back into old habits real quick.
[He thinks about adding a line about how he doesn't have a leash on him anymore and shouldn't act like it but that'd be giving Overwatch entirely too much credit to begin with in his eyes. All in the past anyway. His head tilts up admiring how dark the sky gets out in the middle of nowhere. Well, close enough to nowhere for now; Dorado's lights aren't that far off which makes for only moderate stargazing. He doesn't have much time to get too pensive about it, thankfully.
It's thanks to his incredibly quick reflexes and hand-eye coordination that he catches the face mask despite only paying half attention. He frowns as 76 finds new and creative ways to boss him around and McCree thinks about throwing it right back at him entirely out of spite.
But. He kinda broke it in the first place.]
Can't do it yourself?
[Half-asked and mostly grumbled begrudgingly. He'd figure Jack as the resourceful type--the frighteningly resourceful type with all his military background--but if he's on the run he might be lacking in some or the other of that. Maybe that's why he followed McCree out here in the first place. He's not about to ask and instead relents to the mask. He did a number on it for sure. By contrast the hands that did the most damage are now handling it with great care as he turns it over.
McCree's resourcefulness shouldn't be underestimated either, especially not when he has his own bionic arm to take care of. Still, he's already made an assessment before it was ever in his hands.]
This ain't fixable here and now, you know that?
no subject
Who is smart, and observant, and will probably figure it out on his own, eventually. People don't walk out of explosions like the one that rocked HQ with everything intact.
Suffice to say he needs that visor functional, and even if they were able to repair the mask portion between the two of them, that does nothing about the shards of red glass scattered in the dirt.
He has an idea. He doesn't exactly like it, but given certain factors, he's not sure he has a choice. 76 just has to be particular about how he frames it.]
Then I guess we're going to get it fixed.
[The we feels kind of awful in his mouth, but he'll tell himself it's payback for McCree breaking the equipment in the first place. He deserves this.]
no subject
He can't say he's not at least a little interested--if it's a resource to be gained that's always a positive thing for fugitive bounty hunter types as much as it would fugitive vigilante types.
Still, McCree leans forward, one arm on his knee with his lips pulling into a dissatisfied and confused frown. Years of practice keeps the cigar right where it belongs even when he speaks.]
Come again?
no subject
[He repeats it slowly, like McCree is stupid. Really, 76 would have the exact same reaction and then promptly reject the plan, so he can't really blame the guy. This probably sounds crazy or ridiculous, or both.
Instead, 76 levels a flat stare at him, completely, one-hundred-percent serious about this proposal.]
You got something better to do?
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Maybe!
[He blurts out, raising both his hands in the air a little before clapping his knees and giving 76 a hard stare of his own, albeit not with the same kind of serious bite. He's disgruntled because this has been a long night, and the better thing he had to do was, you know, catch viejo soldado.
He can't believe he's even entertaining this idea. Something close enough to ten million'd better come of it! He leans back, still holding his knees like an anchor so he can roll his eyes that hard.]
Where?
no subject
Still, he hasn't said no. Maybe he can swing this after all, and hope that McCree doesn't stab him in the back halfway to--]
There's a old Overwatch outpost across the border. Outside San Diego. Hit it a while back.
[They are going to cross like most of Mexico for this. 76 is still entirely serious.]
no subject
San Diego ain't exactly close by.
[Not close at all. He supposed all good things worth doing weren't easy to to come by. Damn it, 76 was entirely serious about this, wasn't he...]
And how do you suppose we're supposed to get there?
[McCree had a few ideas of course, being the resourceful guy he was. This part of the states (and borders of said states) were usual roaming grounds for him. 76 couldn't have picked a better guy to strong arm into a gig like this, frankly.]
no subject
But 76 is of no use to anyone with a broken visor, and he's sure he can make this worth McCree's while. He's practically an expert at breaking into old Overwatch facilities at this point. If McCree can get them across the desert, he can handle the rest.]
Steal a car.
[He'd rather not, but walking is out of the question. It'll take far too long, and he doesn't want to waste any more time than he has to.]
no subject
Is that how you got all the way down here? Suppose we'll just steal fuel while we're at it too.
[Car or a bike or something a fine idea, really, just maybe not practical for the entire way.]
If we want to lay low on this we should take the hypertrain most of the way. Then we can see about liberating us something more personal once we're across the border.
[A beat, and then,]
You know how to ride a horse?
no subject
McCree, it seems, prefers hypertrains, but 76 knows there's quite a gap between Dorado and the nearest station. The mention of a horse explains it a little more.]
I can ride a horse.
[He certainly doesn't do it all the time, but he can.]
You got a horse?
[Or are we stealing a horse?]
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Over there. [Not that the stable would have made for a good sneaking outlet with its position anyway.] Unless you did something heinous to her in your sneaking around.
[It's probably meant to be a joke but McCree delivers it with a serious, vaguely warning inflection--either begrudged for this roadtrip they're apparently taking or as a reminder that 76 was still a stranger, and trust is a thing that's earned and not necessarily kept.
Mutually beneficial arrangements though, well, at least McCree is familiar enough in navigating those.]
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