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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 ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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.]
hellshot and OPENWHERE: 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
[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.]