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in fire, in whispers
WHO: Reaper and YOU, (some private prompts)
WHERE: Down on good ol’ Bajikan.
WHEN: Various days throughout the fleet’s visit
WHAT: A grumpy zombie dad and his (mis)adventures in ‘Paradise’.
WARNINGS: Always warnings for talk about how disfigured he is under his mask.
[ Reaper has, in every meaning of the word, absolutely no interest in surgical procedures that may change the biology of his body (again) or fix the possible effects that a certain angelic doctor’s experiments did to him. Getting ‘fixed’ ran the risk of him either dying for good this time--or it would take away the strange ‘powers’ he’d gained while losing everything else he’d ever given a damn about. He’s this deep in, now, and he has no interest in changing back into who and what he used to be.
But what he is interested in were the rumors he heard through processing about the strange plants on this planet. Their effects, and most especially, the fact that there was no law protecting these plants from being taken back aboard the Eluvio once the little repair mission they were on was over. ]
Side 1 - vanity’s not a good trait - OPEN
[ Might as well start with what was closest, he decides--and he finds himself in the 7th district of this apparent ‘Paradise’ they’ve found themselves in. After a few minutes of wandering around, he’s already realised he’s not made the best choice in places to visit. He’s not interested in ‘perfection’ and ‘beauty’ with a face like his. Hidden under his mask and a torn and rotting mess, he’ll do his damndest to avoid the gaze of damn well everyone he comes across and continues his personal mission of gathering flowers and their respective seeds to bring back to the Eluvio later.
However, after ten minutes of picking through different clusters of flowers and bushes--(allowing his bare hands to brush against the petals of some of the dying ones, watching them wilt as his body draws their life force into his own body)--he starts to feel different. Confident, good. It’s definitely an odd feeling when he actually feels like pulling his mask off to breathe a little easier.
When he stands, pocketing away the seeds he’s collected, he’ll catch a glimpse of his own face in one of the district’s many mirrored surfaces, and he’s met with an image he hasn’t seen in some ten, fifteen years. He doesn’t look dead anymore. The imperfection of unlife hidden by the star-shaped bush he’d absorbed a bit of earlier.
Either stop him from admiring himself in said mirror surface too much here, or leave him be. Whichever you choose, he’s going to look far less grumpy than he has since he’s arrived on Eluvio.]
...It looks good, right?
Side 1.2→ video; UN: REAPER to ░░░░░░ - closed to![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
doxing
Don’t know what trouble you’ve gotten yourself into on this planet yet, but I’ve already found something worthwhile down here. Don’t know where the hell you are, but you have to come see this.
Side 2 - I’m just tired it’s a symptom - OPEN
[And after what promises to be one of the most awkward conversations of his life and a trip to the red district, he decides to never visit it again. And also avoid Sombra for a few days until they both forget the most embarrassing conversation they’ve ever had in their adult lives. And to do that, what better to do than sleep. He’s heard rumors, now, of the blue district that will help him do just that.
Thanks to the pain his constantly regenerating-degenerating body likes to cause him, a decent night’s sleep isn’t one he often gets to enjoy. Trying to shake off the effects of fairy moss tea he’d had a short while ago, here goes another attempt to collect flowers and plants that might help him sleep when he’s back up on the Eluvio.
But this time, he’s a bit.. Unsure about picking them himself. After all, his gloves were back in his room on the ship, and he couldn’t control what his nanites did to organic material once he touched it…
At least his face looks moderately human right now as he turns to look at the person closest to him, a relaxed and nearly harmless tone to his voice as he asks:]
...Can you help me get some seeds out of these? I don’t want to touch them.
[That voice is still unmistakably Reaper’s, isn’t it.]
Side 3 - like a bullet in a battlefield - closed torockthemonkey
[ And like hell he was going to visit an alien planet and not go see what kind of weapons and weapons technology they had to offer. His personal hell shotguns were rare enough, but reloading them was a pain in the ass and having secondary weapons while out in space was becoming something more apparent as the days passed.
He has no interest in extra training or the fighting pits, and finding places that sell anything other than mixes and ‘aids’ to help in aforementioned battle pits was starting to become a pain in his ass. The worst part, whatever good mood he’d garnered while hanging out in the blue district with some others was starting to wear off, and what was replacing it was an entirely hostile feeling of irritation.
He hadn’t felt this on edge since meeting up with 76 and Ana back in Egypt, and he could feel his teeth grinding under the pressure of how set his jaw was underneath his mask. Seriously, all he needed was one--
One thing. To set him off. And it comes in the shape of a small little monkey kid who barrels into his back without any goddamn warning. Either the kid came running at him full force on purpose, or he wasn’t watching where he was going, but. Whichever it was, Reaper couldn’t find it in himself to bother finding out. Instead, a gun is pulled out from under his belt, and pointed right down at Goku.]
You chose a bad day to play around.
Side 4 - Wildcard
[Anything I didn't write/you want to do? HMU honestly I'm good for w/e]
WHERE: Down on good ol’ Bajikan.
WHEN: Various days throughout the fleet’s visit
WHAT: A grumpy zombie dad and his (mis)adventures in ‘Paradise’.
WARNINGS: Always warnings for talk about how disfigured he is under his mask.
[ Reaper has, in every meaning of the word, absolutely no interest in surgical procedures that may change the biology of his body (again) or fix the possible effects that a certain angelic doctor’s experiments did to him. Getting ‘fixed’ ran the risk of him either dying for good this time--or it would take away the strange ‘powers’ he’d gained while losing everything else he’d ever given a damn about. He’s this deep in, now, and he has no interest in changing back into who and what he used to be.
But what he is interested in were the rumors he heard through processing about the strange plants on this planet. Their effects, and most especially, the fact that there was no law protecting these plants from being taken back aboard the Eluvio once the little repair mission they were on was over. ]
Side 1 - vanity’s not a good trait - OPEN
[ Might as well start with what was closest, he decides--and he finds himself in the 7th district of this apparent ‘Paradise’ they’ve found themselves in. After a few minutes of wandering around, he’s already realised he’s not made the best choice in places to visit. He’s not interested in ‘perfection’ and ‘beauty’ with a face like his. Hidden under his mask and a torn and rotting mess, he’ll do his damndest to avoid the gaze of damn well everyone he comes across and continues his personal mission of gathering flowers and their respective seeds to bring back to the Eluvio later.
However, after ten minutes of picking through different clusters of flowers and bushes--(allowing his bare hands to brush against the petals of some of the dying ones, watching them wilt as his body draws their life force into his own body)--he starts to feel different. Confident, good. It’s definitely an odd feeling when he actually feels like pulling his mask off to breathe a little easier.
When he stands, pocketing away the seeds he’s collected, he’ll catch a glimpse of his own face in one of the district’s many mirrored surfaces, and he’s met with an image he hasn’t seen in some ten, fifteen years. He doesn’t look dead anymore. The imperfection of unlife hidden by the star-shaped bush he’d absorbed a bit of earlier.
Either stop him from admiring himself in said mirror surface too much here, or leave him be. Whichever you choose, he’s going to look far less grumpy than he has since he’s arrived on Eluvio.]
...It looks good, right?
Side 1.2→ video; UN: REAPER to ░░░░░░ - closed to
doxingDon’t know what trouble you’ve gotten yourself into on this planet yet, but I’ve already found something worthwhile down here. Don’t know where the hell you are, but you have to come see this.
Side 2 - I’m just tired it’s a symptom - OPEN
[And after what promises to be one of the most awkward conversations of his life and a trip to the red district, he decides to never visit it again. And also avoid Sombra for a few days until they both forget the most embarrassing conversation they’ve ever had in their adult lives. And to do that, what better to do than sleep. He’s heard rumors, now, of the blue district that will help him do just that.
Thanks to the pain his constantly regenerating-degenerating body likes to cause him, a decent night’s sleep isn’t one he often gets to enjoy. Trying to shake off the effects of fairy moss tea he’d had a short while ago, here goes another attempt to collect flowers and plants that might help him sleep when he’s back up on the Eluvio.
But this time, he’s a bit.. Unsure about picking them himself. After all, his gloves were back in his room on the ship, and he couldn’t control what his nanites did to organic material once he touched it…
At least his face looks moderately human right now as he turns to look at the person closest to him, a relaxed and nearly harmless tone to his voice as he asks:]
...Can you help me get some seeds out of these? I don’t want to touch them.
[That voice is still unmistakably Reaper’s, isn’t it.]
Side 3 - like a bullet in a battlefield - closed to
rockthemonkey[ And like hell he was going to visit an alien planet and not go see what kind of weapons and weapons technology they had to offer. His personal hell shotguns were rare enough, but reloading them was a pain in the ass and having secondary weapons while out in space was becoming something more apparent as the days passed.
He has no interest in extra training or the fighting pits, and finding places that sell anything other than mixes and ‘aids’ to help in aforementioned battle pits was starting to become a pain in his ass. The worst part, whatever good mood he’d garnered while hanging out in the blue district with some others was starting to wear off, and what was replacing it was an entirely hostile feeling of irritation.
He hadn’t felt this on edge since meeting up with 76 and Ana back in Egypt, and he could feel his teeth grinding under the pressure of how set his jaw was underneath his mask. Seriously, all he needed was one--
One thing. To set him off. And it comes in the shape of a small little monkey kid who barrels into his back without any goddamn warning. Either the kid came running at him full force on purpose, or he wasn’t watching where he was going, but. Whichever it was, Reaper couldn’t find it in himself to bother finding out. Instead, a gun is pulled out from under his belt, and pointed right down at Goku.]
You chose a bad day to play around.
Side 4 - Wildcard
[Anything I didn't write/you want to do? HMU honestly I'm good for w/e]
no subject
Sombra, as always, is easy to find in the crowds circling inside the center of Bajikan, and he greets her with a simple wave once he gets into sight. Instead, he eyes the guard she's speaking to before settling at her side, arms crossed.]
You always stick out in a crowd, you know that.
no subject
finger-point.)
I almost got us access to every room on this ass-backwards planet, but you...
(look at him, look at his face, look at that. this kind of feels like finding your teacher or uncle attractive, which throws her off and she blinks her way out of the bsod.)
I wanna know what kinda plant can do that to your face, 'cause y'know, I don't need it, but I'm gonna take a bath in its petals.
that icon is beautiful
Like you don't already have access to almost every room on this planet.
[He knows what you're capable of, girl don't even play. He raises a hand--the tone of his skin lively and lacking the usual patches of skin, no bone showing underneath.
He can't even help but to give her a smirk--an expression she's likely only seen once or twice in her entire life--when she points at him.]
It's in Superbia. It's... [Give him a moment, and he'll actually fish out a few leaves that are still in his pocket. The plant seeds tucked away for later planting.]
It's not a cure. It just 'covers up' flaws. As I've been told.
[And it covered up the whole flaw of looking like a corpse, it seems.]