bakerstreet | Past sins

[ Perhaps someone has discovered his secret that he's actually one of the world's most notorious super criminals- but sees that he's trying to make amends.

Alternatively, he can be the forgiving one assisting someone else to reform. ]

Tabby will talk, Tabby will listen, Tabby doesn't judge. But she might bring liquor so be of age.

{ literally. this is a vampire with a lot of guilt for killing, more than just speaking for ingrained morals and understood laws. (he kind of didn't realize what he was signing up for, and in case it was a question -- no, it ended up being not so much worth it...)

open to ocs and any canon characters; assumed cr is fine; info and stuff on journal! }

( So he might have engineered a plague that was stronger than was intended while he was working for the military. Massive casualties for both the colonizers and the colonized. )

*Lots of guilt over things her friends have had to endure because of Overwatch; worried on day Genji will think she's a monster for turning him in to the cyborg ninja he is. Experimented on others with Moira for research but her pacifist nature made her venture in to the territory of God and developed her Resurrection abilities.

Open to so many things, please let me know!*

[It's been awhile and I'm a little behind on my lore but I couldn't help but notice you mentioning her worries about Genji up there. Interested in him hearing her out, and encouraging her to forgive herself etc...?]

[OOC: Yeah ;w; Genji has said he agreed to it because he wanted to walk again so she's glad she could have helped but hates that he's being used as a weapon when that was never her intention. That'd be super cute if you'd like to! No hurry, whenever you're comfortable!]

It's a moment of peace. Something that had grown ever more rare and fleeting in the past few months. Like many others, Genji had answered the call back into action, determined to use his unique skills and gifts to pull the world back from the edge it teetered on so precariously.

It's also a rather large shift, from the life of solitude and contemplation he'd become accustomed to to a return to the battlefield. But it's not an unfamiliar one, it's like stepping back into an old familiarity for all that things have changed. Perhaps even easier now that he's left the doubts and anger that once plagued him behind.

All the same, he still seeks out those moments of peace when he can. Which is what he's doing now, sitting outside as the sun sets deep in meditation. Even then, he's immediately aware of somebody approaching him, slowly whether out of hesitance or a want to not disturb him, and lifts his head, breaking the statue-like stillness he'd been sitting in all this time.

"Hello, Angela."

[OOC: Here you go. Let me know if anything doesn't work for you and feel free to use prose or action tags as you prefer. I'll go ahead and match.]

It's been a long day... Patient after patient keep shuffling in to her office and without hesitation she sets about helping them. After a long morning it turns to a long afternoon, soaked up by someone who comes in who needs... his legs tend to. The fear that he's never to walk again sticks with her and reminds her of a time, so long ago, when a similar fear reflected on someone's face.

Genji's.

After finishing up her surgery hours, leaving him to rest and recuperate, Angela takes a breather for herself, though in a bit of a daze, while she muses over the job she did to help reconstruct and put together parts of his spine that were damage in order to allow the soldier to walk again. If only she could have been that helpful towards Genji back when Blackwatch was a thing....If only.

His ninja-stillness catches her off guard and upon hearing her name, her hand flies to her chest to hold over her heart from the sudden startle he throws her. "Genji!-- forgive me, I didn't know you were out here..."

Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, the doctor tries to wipe the guilt from her face. "What are you doing out here all alone?"

That was a whole other life ago. He can recall that fear of losing his ability to walk and move about on his own and the desperation to avoid that fate. It's a sort of irony that the solution had not brought him any peace at the time. Indeed, it had only led to more difficulty than he would have expected.

But that was long ago now. And that is a conflict he no longer carries.

"It seems I am the one who should ask for forgiveness. I did not mean to startle you." There's a hint of a chuckle in his voice. An easy sort of amusement. "And to answer your question: I am meditating."

Guilt or not, from where he's sitting he can easily see that long day in her face. She looks more than a little ragged.

"You seem like you could use a moment or two of quiet yourself."

Years may have passed between them but the sincerity in his voice, and the playful tone he always seems to carry now, warms her and it's like their letters never stopped. Just- became real.

"Ah, then I feel like I'm the one for the forgiveness now." She returns his gentle tease while walking over to him with a nice catch of the sea air overlooking the iconic light tower outside their new base Headquarters. "I hope you don't mind company? I'd hate to disturb your focus."

Blinking, she glances up at his visor, knowing where his always intense brown eyes are. She's always making sure others are alright, never sleeping, always flying from person to person on missions that- it never really registers to her that she could use a moment for herself.

"Ah-are you sure?"

It's a welcome feeling, having her close by instead of on the other end of letters. He owes her much and it's yet another regret of the old days that he perhaps hadn't expressed that properly at the time.

He meets her eyes with that glance, faintly surprised at the contact. Most people just miss it, focusing too much to the center of the metallic mask but somehow she manages to find him behind the cybernetic filter he views the world through now.

She looks tired but still lively. As she always does when buried in her work.

"Of course." He answers with a nod. However devoted to her work she is, he has also learned the value of slowing down from time to time in the long years. Devotion is all well and good but taking a few moments to gather one's thoughts is just as important. Of course, he fully expects she would argue with him if he tried to argue all of that so instead he simply extends a hand to gesture for her to sit by him. "Please. Join me."

Welcoming and...a little embarrassing sometimes. Their letters have always been a highlight whenever she was off on her own missions to the point her nurses teased her a bit whenever a mysterious letter with feathers appeared.

A small smile tugs her lips when he nods and she ventures over to him, taking a seat beside him on the rock overlooking the setting sun. Twilight's one of those beautiful moments in Gibraltar almost to the point of picturesque postcard worthy. Her shoulders begin to relax slightly, taking in the salty sea breeze that combs through her loose hair.

"How...are you adjusting to being back?" It's a very doctorly thing to ask but after Numbani with Doomfist hurting Genji, Tracer and Winston, she's been even more diligently at work trying to ensure their safety and not because she's his doctor but because she cares for him.

(She might have some things to feel guilty of, if you can teach her the meaning of the word)

(( OTA. platonic only. feel free to toss a prompt my way if you'd rather i do up the starter. info is in her journal. ))

[This is like 80% of henry's supports]

ooc there’s a few strikes he’d like to smudge away, but either role.

⌠ voice-testing, ota. m/m for shipping. ⌡

[ Guilty party makes sense for her, but willing to do either role. ]

[SO HOW ABOUT THAT S6 HUH. Without getting too spoilery, let's say any threads here take place many years post-canon and a lot of soul searching has happened. Allura only for anything shippy.]

[They find him planetside some ways away from where they entered the quintessence field all those years ago. Still alone and unable to fly off-planet, a prisoner kept by the locals of the planet he found himself on. He still looks like him, ageless and resplendent, and for a moment upon seeing him she remembers how she felt all those years ago before he was truly revealed for the monster he is.

But the universe is peaceful now. Only with small factions of what had once been a despotic empire littering the galaxy, causing trouble but easily stopped. The Alteans he captured are free to leave that planet behind and travel the universe unimpeded and welcomed, with Romelle their official diplomat and governing leader who turns to Allura for guidance.

They're free of Zarkon's legacy, and Honerva's. Yet here the remaining blood of them remains.

And after all that has happened, after all that has changed for the good when he was left behind in the ether, perhaps never to be seen again, Allura still reaches out to help him. She isn't sure why, beyond knowing that he isn't the responsibility of this planet to hold prisoner, and her and her scouting party shackle him and take him aboard the New Castle of Lions' holding cell. It's no different than the one where they had kept him all those years ago, before he convinced them of his allyship, only to take advantage of her trust and lost culture.

Lance and Keith had wanted to come with her, but she needed to do this alone.

They've given him clean clothes, warm food, shelter, but for as long as he remains on this ship he is their prisoner. But as Allura enters the chamber, stands across from him, she still feels that painful tug of a first love gone horribly wrong.]

Lotor... [she's searching for the words to say, trying to mask these unearthed feelings with a cool gaze and a hardened heart.] We have much to discuss.

[How long had he been trapped in the quintessence field? Only a few ticks, vargas, deca-phoebs? It's impossible to say. Time is meaningless in the space between realities, an abstract concept with no actual power. Lotor's damaged transreality mech was abandoned shortly after he was left there, floating in the endless white void. There was no air in there, but he didn't need it. Quintessence is life, after all, and he had no need any longer for anything else to sustain him.

He remembers the rage that came first while he drifted. Hatred for those mere humans, beings whose lives have been a mere flicker compared to his own, but especially for Allura. She betrayed him, rejected him, committed the ultimate sin of calling him like Zarkon, unforgivable acts all of them. The quintessence doesn't let him forget, however, his other feelings. The pain that came from losing her, the joy he'd felt mere doboshes before when they'd shared that kiss, the genuine pride and gratitude he felt when she made it through Oriande and could make his dreams of endless quintessence and a golden age of prosperity possible. It all existed simultaneously in his mind and left him screaming into the void.

His existence has always been lonely. Some Galra respected him, most feared him; same with the conquered peoples. Hatred, too, was always a common thing. Even those closest to him always stepped around him carefully, like he might strike them down at a moment's notice. The worshipful treatment his rescued Alteans gave him was pleasant, but unfulfilling. It wasn't until Allura that anyone looked at him as an equal, a friend, and something more. With the quintessence amplifying his mind, he can't deny any of this. Having her push him away had been devastating.

As he drifted, other cracks in his veneer began to form. The quintessence doesn't change a person, it brings to the surface what they've buried and ignored. It took what felt like eons before Lotor began to feel she might have been right. He despises the Galra with every ounce of his being, the casual disregard for life their philosophy engenders and the lust for power, but there's no rationalizing his own actions as being much different. His goal of a resurgent Altean civilization may have been noble, but his path to getting to it was... Galran. In his zeal to reject that part of himself, he'd inadvertently walked its very path.

He'd believed that compassion and empathy were useful tools to have, but compartmentalized them when necessary. In the quintessence field, there is no compartmentalizing. He's forced to look at his most callous actions without looking at them as necessary for the greater good, and though he can't say how long it takes, they begin to horrify him. After ten thousand years of a life of ambition, there has been much justification, and every suppressed question as to whether he's doing the right thing is coming to light.

It's the worst kind of torture, self-inflicted, and it nearly drives him completely mad. In the end, the quintessence field only releases him when he finally breaks down and screams into the void that he was wrong and begs her to forgive him. The flash of light that follows is blinding to the point of unconsciousness, and he awakens on a world he does not recognize... in chains. A captured prisoner of war. Lotor does not struggle, makes no attempt at escape during his incarceration. After the quintessence opened his mind, he largely feels he's right where he belongs, content to be forgotten in self-loathing while the universe moves on without him.

News reaches him over the years, of the fall of the Galra empire with no leader to unite it. That, at least, gives him one good bit of guilt-free pleasure, along with the rumors he overhears of the return of the Alteans. Perhaps, even in his misguided attempt at preserving his heritage, he had done one thing right in saving them. That thought contents him, and he'd have spent his remaining existence away from the galaxy at large, whether as prisoner or exile, if not for a fateful encounter. Seeing her again, the only person to ever really treat him with compassion, after all these years is painful, but he goes along without a word.

The accommodations are better, he can say that much, if a little cramped. The last time he was here, it happened through careful manipulation to intentionally be in this cell; now, he wishes he was anywhere else. His eternal youth hasn't faded, but everything else about him seems worn down, halfway broken. For any that know him well, it's the eyes that show that the pragmatic man behind them is all but gone.

When she finally comes to see him, alone, he does not move from where be is seated on his cell's bed. He cannot so much as bring himself to make eye contact, but looks nebulously in her direction. It takes a while before he responds, in a voice not used to speaking over the last few years of imprisonment.]

I've heard congratulations are in order. You have freed the universe from Galra control. I hope the people have shown you their due respects.

[There is no mistaking how broken he looks. He still appears the same as ever, but the way he holds himself, remains seated...it's like looking at a shell of a person, of someone who's been left alone and broken down so much so that he no longer retains the look of either title he had once held.

He's no Prince. He's no Emperor.

He's just...Lotor. The madness in his gaze has been washed away through his years alone in the timelessness of the quintessence field, his presence no longer threatening or imposing. The crimes of his past remain. The look of pain she remembers seeing on Romelle's face is the first thing she thinks of when she looks upon him. What remained of the Alteans victim to his crime is also rooted deep in her mind, when she went to where they were kept, helping to revive those who did survive the ordeal while helping others bury the dead who were long gone.

It was sickening. Unforgivable. But the anger she feels towards him doesn't come in the way she wants it to.

She just feels sad. And when he speaks, she remembers how she still wanted to reach out for him when all was lost. To help him. To not leave him behind to suffer.]

Your congratulations mean little. [She says it wanting to hurt him, but the way she says it rings just as hollow as he looks.] And the Galra live peacefully alongside everyone else in this universe. I am in no need of respect when I know that I've truly done good for this universe and its people.

[She moves around the cell, to bring herself in closer proximity to where he sits on his cot, the glow of the force-field distorting his colour. She's examining him as one would anyone lost to time.]

Finding you alive was...a surprise.

[The words sting, he won't pretend they don't, but they are nothing compared to what he's said to himself. Being forced to feel when he'd trained himself over millennia to be numb to the horrors of necessity does a number on a man's self-valuation.

He'd like to say that time has given him an opportunity to relax his grudge with his heritage, but the quintessence brought forth all of his feelings, not just those suppressed. Hearing that the Galra have reached a state of peace and not been eradicated for their crimes briefly brings a sneer to his face, but with closed eyes and a calm breath, he pushes it aside again.]

I do not know how I survived, so do not waste your time interrogating me there. [The only lies he's ever told her are those of omission. No sense in breaking that record here.] The quintessence field... released me.

[A brief, intensely dry chuckle. How peculiar it feels, when was the last time he laughed?]

Once it was through with me, that is. Or perhaps, when I was through with it. I have no interest in knowing which possibility is truth, if a way to know even exists.

[He brings his arms up to rest his elbows on his knees, hands folding in front of him to rest his chin on. These are the most words he's spoken in years, it's admittedly tiring.]

You could have left me in that prison, or had me transferred to some place more befitting my grandiose crimes, and yet, here we are again.

[The twitch of his sneer does not go unnoticed, but she remains unflinching. She's achieved everything she hoped was possible for a universe so divided by war. And while finding true peace is an unfortunate impossibility, she had seen through the ushering of a new era of stability without having to destroy any people who had no right to be destroyed.

His feelings towards the Galra may remain the same. Bitter and hateful. But hers had evolved into an understanding, where Kolivan, Krolia, and the rest of the Blades were able to see through to a more peaceful leadership of what remained of the Galra following the vacuum that had formed at the defeat of Zarkon, and with their Emperor pro tem being lost to the quintessence field.

She remains quiet as he speaks, allowing him to do so with no interruption, still watching him with that same surveying expression which holds more weight to it than it perhaps should.]

It is not only my place to decide what should be done with you. I am leaving it up to Romelle and her people to see to whatever punishment they feel is best. [A pause.] I never wanted to leave you in the quintessence field all those years ago, but we had no choice.

You did what you had to do.

[And that's all he has to say about that. He has no idea why they left him, whether it was by choice or by necessity, but the only difference it makes is confirming that Allura, for better or worse, is as gentle a soul as he'd always thought. Were their positions reversed, he is ashamed to say he'd have left her to her fate without hesitation.

The revelation of what is to be his fate does not come as a terrible surprise. Of all the people in the universe he'd harmed, the Alteans he'd rescued suffered most in his misguided, ultimately fruitless research. He'd thought the key to reaching the quintessence field lay in that direction, that sacrificing several lives to potentially save billions was a worthwhile endeavor. Not only was he wrong, but the damage he'd done to his own soul cannot be measured.]

I have no objections to facing them. I will offer a full confession of what I have done and accept whatever judgment they hand down.

[There is defeat on his face, a hollowness in his expression. He barely knows Rommelle, only having met her a scant few times for brief moments before encountering her on the Castle of Lions on that fateful day, but the Alteans can do worse than having her for a leader from what he's observed.]

...It was as if I could see every moment of my life. Every experience, every thought, playing before me simultaneously. Everything I suppressed and made myself leave behind, in order to do what I believed necessary. Every last doubt and question.

[With a start, he realizes he is trembling. The memory of the quintessence, and the revelations he'd had within it, still affects him this badly. Shutting his eyes once again, he steadies his breathing and makes himself calm down again.]

I know precisely how many people I sent to their deaths over the millennia. I see their faces in my dreams every night. There is nothing Romelle or her people can do to me to compare to that.

[She knows better than to fall for it, to fall for him again as she had done so all those years ago. He had seemed genuine then, someone to look to as a connecting force to something she had thought long-gone, and surely the years following their defeat of him had finally buried whatever feelings she had felt for him. The hurt and disgust he had caused when finally learning of his true past, the horrors he never told her.

What she had seen on the moon's base when she went with Keith and Romelle to help the Alteans still haunts her. The bodies there put to earth and laid to rest, his statues torn down, giving them time to mourn their life of lies and deception he had raised generations of Alteans on.

But that fear of him is gone, especially when finally seeing him the shell of a man he once was. The rising dread she feels whenever she thinks of what had once been fond times of their moments together has been buried deep. But she also knows without him, she wouldn't be the alchemist she is today. They had shared moments together she had only dreamed of in her youth, and she still dreams of Oriande and their travels together til this very day.

She should know better, but as he trembles before her, trapped and haunted, she knows well enough that what he says is the truth. She's grown up to know better, but she can see even through his attempts to calm himself that the reality of his horrors has been laid bare before him time and time again. And despite the hurt, she is still good, and the young woman who had still wanted to reach out for him and not leave him behind to a fate he no doubt deserved is still there, and it shines through as she steps forward and rests her hand against the force field keeping him trapped inside.

She wants to hate him. Truly and deeply, in the same way she had hated Zarkon for all the atrocities he committed. But she's seen what hatred does to a person and how it shapes them for the rest of their life, and he sits before her in this very cell.

A pitiable image of someone she used to have nightmares of.]

I cannot say what the Alteans will do to you, but knowing you will live your entire life ruminating about what you've done to your own people is why I am bringing you to face the ones you have hurt the most.

[Her gaze is unwavering. But there is a sadness to it, and she continues, saying something that she probably shouldn't.]

It is something that Zarkon has never had to face. Perhaps the quintessence was preventing you from the same fate as him, by showing you every horrible thing you've done to those you pretended to care about.

By bringing you back to face those who once loved you. Worshiped you.

[Hubris is such a dangerous thing. Hearing that he will see them again, the last of the Alteans, his people, fills him with so many conflicting feelings. He wants so much to completely reject his Galra heritage and be embraced fully as one of them, but in his hubris, any chance of that has been dashed to nothing. His desires were almost so noble, the return of a vanquished people, but even they were tainted. He didn't just want Altea to flourish, he wanted it to dominate. The new Altean Empire, a superpower that could overthrow the Galra Empire and take its place as the dominant force in the universe, with Lotor himself standing as its eternal leader.

The only thing he can say in his defense is that he never intended for them to worship him. The statues came as a surprise, the first time he returned and beheld them, but when he saw how much they revered him, he felt it was only right. As their ruler, their god, it was his duty to do everything in his power to improve their existence. They never had to know the truth about what was being done at the 'second colony,' they would only ever be told that their kin give their lives to bring them all prosperity. Zarkon would have been proud of his duplicity.

She was right, all those years ago. He really is no better than his father.]

There is nothing I could do to apologize to them for what I have done. I do not expect forgiveness.

[His ability to push aside sentimentality is at its end. Facing them is going to be more painful than anything he can possibly imagine, but he is not so broken that he will refuse to do so. There is still the smallest flicker of noble spirit within him: now that his destiny is laid out for him, he will face it head on.

At last, after all this talk, he rises to his feet and steels himself enough to meet her gaze. Even after all this time, he still remembers the gentleness in them he'd fallen for, and the rage he'd seen when she discovered what he'd done that cut him to the core. Now, the grief in them is plain, and it spears him straight through the heart in a way that leaves him even more hollow inside. He wanted so badly to have her approval, even her affection, the returned Princess of Altea. Marrying her would have legitimized his status as their emperor in an irrefutable way.

Looking back on it now, his disgust for thinking of using her in such a way is nearly palpable.]

I have a request, if you will hear it.

[She's under no obligation to do so, of course, and what he has to ask of her is dangerous, but there is no other opportunity he can think of to ask it. The Alteans might take it as an attempt to bargain for his freedom or otherwise influence their opinion of him, and years ago, he absolutely would have used it as a bargaining chip. This is something that has lingered on his mind since he returned to this reality, settling it one way or another might just bring him the slightest peace of mind.]

[She thought herself better than to get caught in the feelings she had once felt for him. But when he finally looks at her and meets her gaze, all the hardening of her heart only hurts, and she still tries her best to steel it away from him seeing it.

She was young then. Naive. Very much caught up in his talk of peace, their shared heritage, his praise of her. And he broke her heart, tried to kill her and her friends; she thought leaving him behind and moving away from that time would heal those raw feelings of heartbreak.

But there's still that part of her who thinks back to her fantasies of being by his side, before everything went horribly wrong.

Allura remains quiet for a tick, mouth thinning into a hard line as she looks at him, not tearing away her gaze to give tell that looking him in the eye still hurts in the way a first heartbreak still hurts. She is genuinely considering turning down his request, to not hear it; but it goes against her nature. She's learned better than to simply shut things off and out.]

I will hear it, but will make no promise to heed it.

[She doesn't have to say anything. He can see enough in her eyes to know that this is painful for her, and a part of him wants to tell her, right there, that he's sorry for what he did. He's still a shrewd man, however, and he knows his words might do nothing more than inflame her further. Trust is something difficult to gain, particularly after it's already been lost, and after all of his duplicity, he wouldn't fault her in the least for seeking hidden motives behind everything he does.]

Fair enough. I will not ask any particular action on your behalf once you hear what I have to say. If it is your will to do nothing about it, then that is what it is.

[A diplomatic response, but still manipulative. He simply can't help it, attempting to make people move to his beat is too inherent to his very nature after ten millennia of mastering the art. It doesn't even register to his mind that he's attempting to make himself look reasonable, above and beyond how much he genuinely is attempting to do so.]

I never... intended for the Alteans to stay on the planet I hid them on. It was a temporary measure, a safeguard against Zarkon discovering them. Once he was removed as a threat and the universe had its infinite quintessence, I had another place to move them to.

[He doesn't mention his idea to call it New Altea. At this point, it seems completely presumptuous.]

It is the world most similar to Altea as I could possibly find, in terms of size, climate, gravity, and every other metric I could weigh it on. At the southern ice cap, there is a hidden facility I had constructed. Inside it is every Altean artifact I could locate over centuries of searching. Music, toys, textiles, every day items, plants and animals kept safe in stasis. Anything I could locate is there.

[This can't come as a surprise. As obsessed as he was with his Altean heritage, preserving every scrap of it he could possibly get his hands on is only natural. Zarkon's purge of the planet and all that came from it was ruthless, but it could not possibly reach every single corner of the universe.]

I will give you the location of this planet, the facility, and the codes to enter it. What you do with what is inside is your decision to make.

[It won't make up for what he's done to her, or to her people, but this small act of contrition is all he can do from a jail cell to possibly do any of them the slightest good. It gives him the slightest lifting of his spirits, doing something altruistic such as this, but he can't help but expect accusations of thinking that this act of charity can only come with leniency for his crimes.

And maybe she actually is right to think that. After all, manipulation is in his nature, the only thing that's changed is that he can see it now.]

*S6 compliant. SO after that season woo... Please mark spoilers if you have them and let me know if you'd rather not be spoiled*

[He's done a lot of bad things working for the mob. You can guess most of them.]

Past sins

Dr Otto Octavius 🐙 The Superior Spider-Man 🕷️ M/F

Tabby Smith (Meltdown) | Marvel

Ambrose Sinclair | original (vampire) | ota (m/m ship)

leto hawkins ( oc ) ota

Dr Angela ' Mercy' Ziegler | Overwatch | OTA

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Loretta | D&D OC | F/F

Era Ra (Warrior of Light) ☘ Final Fantasy XIV

Kuja | Final Fantasy IX | OTA

Henry | Fire Emblem: Awakening | OTA

mad sweeney | american gods

nicolas de lenfent ❖ modern au ❖ the vampire chronicles

maki harukawa | danganronpa v3 | ota

Lotor | Voltron

lmk if this works!

Looks great! Now, tl;dr time.

boi yes give me all the tl;dr

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Princess Allura of Altea - Voltron: LD - OTA

Heero Yuy (Gundam Wing)

Sansa Stark | ASOIAF | f/m

Lucrezia Borgia | The Borgias | f/m

Karen Page | Netflix Marvel | f/m

Mr. Wrench | Fargo | OTA

Shigeo "Mob" Kageyama | MP100 | OTA

ontari | the 100

Jyn Erso | Rogue One | OTA