Entry tags:
- animorphs: aximili-esgarrouth-isthill,
- archie comics: jughead jones,
- far cry: jason brody,
- far cry: vaas montenegro,
- homestuck: dave strider,
- osomatsu-san: ichimatsu matsuno,
- osomatsu-san: karamatsu matsuno,
- overwatch: reaper,
- saiyuki: son goku,
- shadowhunters: clary fray,
- voltron: allura,
- yuri!!! on ice: victor nikiforov
Already choking on my pride [OPEN]
WHO: Reaper
hellshot and OPEN
WHERE: Within the Fleet, some automated cafeteria
WHEN: Various times within the month, whenever he needs to eat.
WHAT: Reaper needs nutrients, touchscreens aren't his friend.
WARNINGS: Possible mention of how horridly deformed he is under his mask. It's bad.
[Dark fingernails tap against the metal counter he's currently standing in front of. If he wasn't wearing a mask, it would be easy to see the look of frustration on Reaper's face with his current predicament, so for now, the only way of knowing that the ghost of a man is pissed off is the wisps of black fog escaping from under aforementioned mask.
He hadn't gone on the previous mission with Sombra, and he had no interest in rescue missions, either. Which meant he hadn't seen the field of battle in little over a month--which meant he hadn't been taking in new nutrients from his surroundings to keep his body from decaying to a point of discomfort. Which meant he had to partake in his least favourite of activities: Eating.
Eating was difficult enough when your face was barely suited for it--but when the cafeteria closest to his living quarters was a fully automated one? It was like a really bad joke. Touchscreens worked when pressure was applied with an electrical charge--human skin was a great conductor for said electrical charge. Dead flesh didn't hold any sort of charge. So this was his predicament. He couldn't eat if he couldn't get the damn screen to work.
Frustrated, Reaper finally turns his head to glare at the individual waiting for their turn after him. He hated asking for help, so instead:]
Work this damn thing for me and I'll pay for your food, too.
[He's too tired for this bullshit today.]
WHERE: Within the Fleet, some automated cafeteria
WHEN: Various times within the month, whenever he needs to eat.
WHAT: Reaper needs nutrients, touchscreens aren't his friend.
WARNINGS: Possible mention of how horridly deformed he is under his mask. It's bad.
[Dark fingernails tap against the metal counter he's currently standing in front of. If he wasn't wearing a mask, it would be easy to see the look of frustration on Reaper's face with his current predicament, so for now, the only way of knowing that the ghost of a man is pissed off is the wisps of black fog escaping from under aforementioned mask.
He hadn't gone on the previous mission with Sombra, and he had no interest in rescue missions, either. Which meant he hadn't seen the field of battle in little over a month--which meant he hadn't been taking in new nutrients from his surroundings to keep his body from decaying to a point of discomfort. Which meant he had to partake in his least favourite of activities: Eating.
Eating was difficult enough when your face was barely suited for it--but when the cafeteria closest to his living quarters was a fully automated one? It was like a really bad joke. Touchscreens worked when pressure was applied with an electrical charge--human skin was a great conductor for said electrical charge. Dead flesh didn't hold any sort of charge. So this was his predicament. He couldn't eat if he couldn't get the damn screen to work.
Frustrated, Reaper finally turns his head to glare at the individual waiting for their turn after him. He hated asking for help, so instead:]
Work this damn thing for me and I'll pay for your food, too.
[He's too tired for this bullshit today.]

no subject
It's not like I like killing or anythin'. [At least, not most of the time. Maybe Reaper would be less surprised if he'd met the Seiten Taisei first.] But fighting's fun and dyin' would be embarrassing.
[So that's the choice he's left with.]
'sides, some assholes really do gotta die. It's not like I'm gonna let them kill me instead.
no subject
He stirs a bit of yolk around with his fork, mixing it over a piece of cut steak as he stares at the other, taking in what he has to say. 'Fighting is fun'.]
Dying is embarrassing. [His tone is almost flat.] But at least it's quiet, if you can get it to last.
[He's not bitter at all.]
...
It's a good attitude to have. Somehow, I expected the opposite of you, despite our conversation on the network. [Where Goku had told him it was okay to not play hero.]
no subject
... I don't like quiet. [Now there's something that's probably less of a surprise.] An' if you're dead, you don't get hungry. [And Goku never wants to be stuck in silence, never feeling hunger or the warmth of the sun, ever again.
Come to think of it... Why is Reaper eating? Dead guys don't get hungry.]
I told ya I'm not a hero or anythin'. I'm just doing what I wanna do.
no subject
Another bite of dripping steak that disappears in his maw without so much as a single chewing motion, and he makes a bit of a scowling face. If Goku can recognise the torn mess as anything like a scowl. Though, if he does pay attention, he will notice that the torn-open wounds in Reaper's face are weirdly starting to look... better.]
Not hungry in the conventional way. [He doesn't remember what it feels like to get that twisting, growling feeling in his gut. It's a feeling he'd miss, if he could. Hunger was different for him, after all.]
And what is it that you want to do. Bumble through life, eating too much food and asking too many questions?
no subject
It takes him a second to register Reaper's question.] What do I wanna do? [He blinks and pauses for a second to think about that. He wants to be with his friends, he wants to stop the Minus Wave, he wants to see Nataku again for some reason... He shrugs again, grinning.] That sounds pretty good, actually, what's wrong with that?
[Eating lots and asking questions, sounds fun!]
no subject
[A moment, and then a smirk. And even a bark of a laugh--as weird as it sounds through that odd echo that made his voice crawl from his throat like something other-worldly.]
For a brat like you, nothing. [He rolls those glow-red eyes in his head a moment, before gesturing at the piled up order of cheese-fries.]
It's just smart to have actual goals beyond stuffing yourself sick with junkfood.
no subject
[Though without his family here to keep an eye on him, he has been eating pretty crappy. Space Dad took the job right on time. Goku finishes off his second burger and pulls a hotdog and the cheese-fries closer to him to dig into those.]
Anyway, I've got goals, I think... I wanna get back to where I was before this, and then there's some people me and my friends've gotta beat up. There's some stuff happening that's gotta be stopped, so I'm gonna take care of that.
[And then, after that... He's never really thought about it before. He guesses he'll just follow Sanzo wherever he goes.]
no subject
Finishing off his first steak, he pushes the plate aside. Staring at Goku as the other conveys to him the most vague life goals he's ever heard.]
...That tells me a whole lot of nothing. But I'm not asking for your life story. If you've got shit to do, then take care of it. [He waves a fork around.]
You're taking care of nothing out here, just like the rest of us. Did they even give a cheeky brat like you a job?
no subject
Are ya gonna help if I tell you everythin'? [Reaper doesn't need to know the details, they won't mean anything to him anyway.] I'm gonna take care of it.
[Buuuuut now they're talking about here. Goku scowls and shoves a fistful of cheese-fries into his mouth.] Not a real one.
[Door-to-door banana salesman. He's not amused (but at least his diet is high in potassium these days).]
no subject
A small scoff is all that's given after that. He's already learnt the kid has no problem with killing if he has to, so... he'll give him the benefit of the doubt this time.]
Yeah. Me either. Half wonder if the loonies who own this damn fleet have any idea how to assign jobs to people properly. [His job sucks too, man. Kudos.]