Gabriel Reyes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hellshot) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
riverviewlogs2017-10-10 03:34 am
hellshot) wrote in riverviewlogs2017-10-10 03:34 am
There's a cold red light
who: Reaper (Gabriel Reyes) - [Open]
what: Memoryshare + Halloween Stuff
when: Throughout October
where: In Reaper's apartment for one, In Dreams for the others.
warnings:
side a - Spooky Scary
[It's not as if Reaper had expected an alien planet to celebrate a holiday such as Halloween. Back where he was from, it was a big enough holiday with plenty of reasons to look forward to it--but as this month began on the shitty little planet far from home... He was pretty irate to learn that the 'Celebration' this time around was circled around Dying. As if he needed another dozen reminders that he still existed on a plane where his body couldn't decide if it wanted to be living or dead--but to have fucking ghosts floating around the place like it was common...
He needed something to clear his head.
So even if Halloween didn't exist in Riverview? Who said he couldn't celebrate it on his own anyhow. Anyone sharing an apartment complex with the undead man would find his own corner of the room scattered with textiles and rough sketches--a table set up in the corner with a sewing machine and everything to go along with it.
Hell, if you're lucky enough--roommate or even just one of his very few acquaintances--to pay him a visit during odd hours in the day, you'll find the mask-wearing man... putting something together. And for a guy who looks like he's dressed for Halloween every day of the year, this outfit he's sewing together seems to be even more over the top than usual.]
side b - Too Edgy for Halloween (Memoryshare 1)
[It's a pretty odd perspective, seeing from the eyes of someone else when you should be dreaming things from your own life. Even odder when said eyes seem to be looking out from the oddest kind of mask--the inside of what SEEMS to be a ...Pumpkin. Yeah, seriously. Bear with it for a moment, however, as a pair of hands are raised easily to pull it off--apparently only to continue what seemed to be some sort of argument.
One of the voices may be easy to recognise, what with its tinny, almost robotic tinge. An accent--Japanese--is easy to pick out as well, but the tone... is far divorced from what you might recognise it as.
"I do not want to go to any such party with you, Commander."
The title of respect is said with nearly a hint of sarcasm--a direct line of disobedience with someone higher authority than him. And that's when he'll come into the picture. Red-eyed, dark haired; this man is clearly a Cyborg, Genji Shimada, to be exact, but something is more than a little off about him.
"McCree's going to be there. Ana and Jack, too. Ain't no reason to go avoiding it just because you're in a foul mood for the sixth time this week, Shimada."
The reply is in a voice that's recogniseable Enough as the man who calls himself 'Reaper', but the tone is less rasped, far less tired, and almost... amicable in how it sounds.
"It is not a 'bad mood' choosing my actions. Do not accuse me of something so childish."
A laugh rumbles out of Reyes' throat. "Hard not to accuse when you're the one actin' like a kid with no friends."
Apparently that response was enough to make the Shimada brother growl with an irate sound of frustration, and slam the door to his quarters in his 'Commander's' face.
Well.
Can't say he didn't try, right.]
side 3 - Shrug Emoji.png (Memoryshare 2)
[The first thing greeting you in this particular dream is more than a dozen computer screens. Each lit up with a different angle of what one MIGHT recognise as London on Earth--except it's being absolutely lit up. Machines of varying sizes bare over the town as the rattle of guns and explosions sound over the speakers, and it'll become clear that this isn't some sort of well-CGI'd movie.
Especially not when someone to the apparent dreamer's left speaks up.
"What's McCree doing in London, Gabriel?"
A woman's voice, stern, to the point. One might expect a clear and concise reply, but instead, an almost sly remark is given in response.
"Looks like He's investigating the situation from the ground."
Once again, you find yourself in the dream belonging to the man who calls himself 'Reaper' in Riverview... apparently at a time before he'd met his apparent end. The conversation between Reaper, the stern-looking woman and a greying, tired looking man continues. It contains a bit of war jargon that one might not fully understand, but it all comes to an end when the tired looking blonde gets some sort of message. A grim statement that is apparently all Gabriel needs to hear.
"Prime Minister's not Budging. We're still not authorized to operate in England."
There's an exasperated sigh from the woman, and that's when Gabriel rises from his seat, an almost uncharacteristic laugh escaping his throat.
"Sounds like the Prime Minister has it alllllll under control."
As he's heading for the door, a snide remark is easily heard just before he exits: "Ever the Hero, Gabriel."
An easy turn, a wide smile, and an even wider shrug is given from the man who now calls himself Reaper.
"I'm not the one with the statue."]
what: Memoryshare + Halloween Stuff
when: Throughout October
where: In Reaper's apartment for one, In Dreams for the others.
warnings:
side a - Spooky Scary
[It's not as if Reaper had expected an alien planet to celebrate a holiday such as Halloween. Back where he was from, it was a big enough holiday with plenty of reasons to look forward to it--but as this month began on the shitty little planet far from home... He was pretty irate to learn that the 'Celebration' this time around was circled around Dying. As if he needed another dozen reminders that he still existed on a plane where his body couldn't decide if it wanted to be living or dead--but to have fucking ghosts floating around the place like it was common...
He needed something to clear his head.
So even if Halloween didn't exist in Riverview? Who said he couldn't celebrate it on his own anyhow. Anyone sharing an apartment complex with the undead man would find his own corner of the room scattered with textiles and rough sketches--a table set up in the corner with a sewing machine and everything to go along with it.
Hell, if you're lucky enough--roommate or even just one of his very few acquaintances--to pay him a visit during odd hours in the day, you'll find the mask-wearing man... putting something together. And for a guy who looks like he's dressed for Halloween every day of the year, this outfit he's sewing together seems to be even more over the top than usual.]
side b - Too Edgy for Halloween (Memoryshare 1)
[It's a pretty odd perspective, seeing from the eyes of someone else when you should be dreaming things from your own life. Even odder when said eyes seem to be looking out from the oddest kind of mask--the inside of what SEEMS to be a ...Pumpkin. Yeah, seriously. Bear with it for a moment, however, as a pair of hands are raised easily to pull it off--apparently only to continue what seemed to be some sort of argument.
One of the voices may be easy to recognise, what with its tinny, almost robotic tinge. An accent--Japanese--is easy to pick out as well, but the tone... is far divorced from what you might recognise it as.
"I do not want to go to any such party with you, Commander."
The title of respect is said with nearly a hint of sarcasm--a direct line of disobedience with someone higher authority than him. And that's when he'll come into the picture. Red-eyed, dark haired; this man is clearly a Cyborg, Genji Shimada, to be exact, but something is more than a little off about him.
"McCree's going to be there. Ana and Jack, too. Ain't no reason to go avoiding it just because you're in a foul mood for the sixth time this week, Shimada."
The reply is in a voice that's recogniseable Enough as the man who calls himself 'Reaper', but the tone is less rasped, far less tired, and almost... amicable in how it sounds.
"It is not a 'bad mood' choosing my actions. Do not accuse me of something so childish."
A laugh rumbles out of Reyes' throat. "Hard not to accuse when you're the one actin' like a kid with no friends."
Apparently that response was enough to make the Shimada brother growl with an irate sound of frustration, and slam the door to his quarters in his 'Commander's' face.
Well.
Can't say he didn't try, right.]
side 3 - Shrug Emoji.png (Memoryshare 2)
[The first thing greeting you in this particular dream is more than a dozen computer screens. Each lit up with a different angle of what one MIGHT recognise as London on Earth--except it's being absolutely lit up. Machines of varying sizes bare over the town as the rattle of guns and explosions sound over the speakers, and it'll become clear that this isn't some sort of well-CGI'd movie.
Especially not when someone to the apparent dreamer's left speaks up.
"What's McCree doing in London, Gabriel?"
A woman's voice, stern, to the point. One might expect a clear and concise reply, but instead, an almost sly remark is given in response.
"Looks like He's investigating the situation from the ground."
Once again, you find yourself in the dream belonging to the man who calls himself 'Reaper' in Riverview... apparently at a time before he'd met his apparent end. The conversation between Reaper, the stern-looking woman and a greying, tired looking man continues. It contains a bit of war jargon that one might not fully understand, but it all comes to an end when the tired looking blonde gets some sort of message. A grim statement that is apparently all Gabriel needs to hear.
"Prime Minister's not Budging. We're still not authorized to operate in England."
There's an exasperated sigh from the woman, and that's when Gabriel rises from his seat, an almost uncharacteristic laugh escaping his throat.
"Sounds like the Prime Minister has it alllllll under control."
As he's heading for the door, a snide remark is easily heard just before he exits: "Ever the Hero, Gabriel."
An easy turn, a wide smile, and an even wider shrug is given from the man who now calls himself Reaper.
"I'm not the one with the statue."]
no subject
[ The disbelief slips out of her mouth, just a hair above a whisper under her breath as her head turns and her gaze finds the man in question. Jack Morrison, Strike Commander of Overwatch - Hana remembers all the stories about him, remembers the way the world seemed to mourn after he was declared dead after that explosion. How people felt that hope was lost and that there were no more heroes. But he's alive and so is Reyes, she's learned, but— is Morrison like this now, too? All... sinister and hard to get along with, to put things lightly...?
Hana shakes her head. Part of her thinks she doesn't need to know all this. Overwatch was in the past and far removed from the tribulations she faces in her country - and it feels especially irrelevant now, when all of them aren't even in the same dimension. Still, she couldn't help but feel... ]
That's how it always is with big shots like you guys, huh? Always with the lies. Didn't you care how people who cared about you would feel thinking you were dead?
no subject
His head lowers, his shoulders hunching up as he holds in a laugh, a sound that wouldn't be at all amused, but just hollow, humorless, and tired.]
When I died, there wasn't a person left who I thought would give a damn if they found out I'd lived. In the end, they wanted me buried, so who was I to take away their fondest wish?
As for Jack...
Well.
He was always a short-sighted man in life. I doubt his views go much furthur than past his nose, even now, as he goes about his business under his ridiculous masked vigilante act.
no subject
But in the end she finds that she just doesn't care enough about the man who has always been Reaper to her, and now apparently Gabriel Reyes, to say it. Whatever ghosts lingered between he and her now-roommate are between the both of them and, as far as she's concerned, he's still a terrorist.
As for Jack...
Okay, this, Hana can't let slide. Because— ]
I really don't think you can judge other people on what they do behind a mask, Reaper. That's all you do.
no subject
[As his form shifts, the smoke around him becoming just a little thicker as he turns his head towards her. Fingers of those claw-like gloves coming up, dragging along the jawline of his mask, almost thoughtful in their path.
He's most certainly still a terrorist and he most certainly doesn't expect her to forgive, feel sorry, or even pity him for a moment.
But the grin on his face is far too long as those fingers curl under the edge of his mask, pulling it free just so she can see what hides underneath.
A cold, corpselike face with hollow, red-glowing eyes. The way the skin parts where it seems to have fallen off, showing holes where teeth should not be showing, wounds glowing red as if he's burning just under the surface of his skin.]
Some people don't wear masks just to hide.
no subject
but there's no way that she can hide her discomfort when his fingers pull away at the mask that she has always seen him with, and certainly no way for her to disguise her shock at what she sees beneath. Shock that takes a sharp turn into revulsion at the gaping holes in skin, at the red glow, at everything. ]
Oh, god—
[ Her hand claps over her mouth, no explanation for the way she feels nauseated even in a dream. She hates this. She doesn't want him to see her in any way affected by him - but he looks, simply, horrifying. And she can't imagine what the fuck has gone on that's resulted in this, in how he is. Wake up, Hana. Wake the hell up.
But no, she's still there, in front of the man who looks like he walked out of a horror game. Her voice is still muffled behind her hand when she mutters, ]
Just what the hell happened to you...?