#.letter to nowhere ; sol.dier

[dimensionalspades]

@chronal-anomaly said: "I was doing my duty. I was carrying out my orders." For 76 or SC if you're feeling spicy

- duty || accepting -

. Off target were loaded words. They could mean anything. Running off to help a displaced civilian in the line of fire, or just ignoring the mission to go after personal goals- benign or malicious, "off target" was a kind way of saying "wrong". Jack didn't know if what she did was wrong, yet, hence why she was in his office. Much as he knew it could put people on the back foot when they were called there. Jack didn't intervene a lot of times, but...

. "Your orders were to get civilians out of the area. You left the area you were meant to be working in and your comm was off for fifteen minutes." Nevermind that this was London, and that Null Sector were everywhere, that Lena's actions didn't impede the mission. But those were fifteen unaccounted for minutes. Was Jack all that concerned? Maybe somewhat, but Lena already proved herself to be an exemplary addition to the teams. But, higher ups didn't like that their special little 'project' had gone wandering and were breathing down his neck about it. And, in the end, Jack did need to know.

. "All I need to know is what you were doing in that time and why comms needed to be off."

[dimensionalspades]

“plots please?" _ zenyatta

- plots please! || accepting -

Zenyatta needs to get through a very dangerous area and Jack offers to accompany him along the road. This can either end in some violence or they have a very chill roadtrip.

Pasiphos invites Zenyatta to a formal event as both a conversation starter and just to entertain themselves, and just to see how Zenyatta acts in a snooty environment.

Sova happens on Zenyatta after he sustains some damage and helps get him to a safe place. While he's not a perfect mechanic, he's able to offer Zen some help with repairs.

[dimensionalspades]

@ovcrwctch said: "Have you stolen the last one of my protein bars?" Rein looks mildly frustrated as he walks towards Jack, holding the empty box in disbelief. He was determined to find the culprit!

. Considering he still had part of that protein bar in his mouth, there wasn't a ton he could do to deny it.

. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry- but in my defense," he started after swallowing the bite. "They were left unattended for more than an hour and I just jogged in 40 celsius." He looks primed to take off like a hare, looking less than apologetic.

[dimensionalspades]

@chronal-anomaly said: "Why are you looking at me like that? Who are you?" For Jack,,,,

- amnesia || accepting -

. Something dropped in his gut when he saw her go down, and his trajectory had changed nearly immediately. He swooped in like a hawk, tearing into enemies with abandon in an effort to reach her.

The sight of blood pooling around her head made him ill, throwing down a med beacon and carefully inspecting her.

"Hey, hey, kiddo, c'mon, don't fall asleep on me," he mumbled, his voice strained as he yanked a glove off to feel her pulse. "Mercy, Tracer went down."

He could hear the sound of gunfire, carefully readjusting her to keep them both hidden. When she spoke, Jack felt something sick rise in his throat, eyes wide behind the visor. He looked around a moment, then tugged at the latches. It lifted, and despite the discomfort at being bare-faced, he tried to focus on her.

"It's me, Lena. It's Jack, you're gonna be alright."

[dimensionalspades]

@aquicksojourn said: "I fear that I am becoming obsolete." [@aquicksojourn to Jack :D]

- general || accepting -

. Jack scoffed immediately. The idea that Sojourn could ever be obsolete seemed insane. She was an exemplary captain, a good friend, and a sharp mind. None of those seemed to really become obsolete- at least, to the right people.

. "You?" He asked as he sat back. His arms crossed, brows furrowed in confusion. "I don't think that'll ever happen, honestly."

. Maybe she was referring to her cybernetics. That was different, he supposed- a reasonable anxiety. The speed at which technology of all kinds evolved, the uses for said technology changing with that evolution...?

. "The technology supplements you, you don't supplement the technology. You could still get things done with those old immovable prosthetics. Besides, only big thing your cybernetics help with in Overwatch is missions. I'm sure a lot of people would be equally happy to have you around headquarters more, but I don't see that happening anytime soon unless you want it to. Could sure use your help with the paperwork." He grinned, knowing the answer to that one.

[dimensionalspades]

It had been a terrible lapse of his better judgement, between a silent appreciation for certain… Similarities he's gradually begun to take notice of, and a bubbling fondness for just how peaceful Jack can look when awarded a moment of rest. In hindsight, he should have woken him up the moment he caught him beginning to doze off-- should have done literally anything other than watch him sleep. Oh, but he looked so comfortable, the habitual tension in Jack's hardened features temporarily nonexistent and leaving a sense of serenity in its place as Sigma allows himself to be lulled by the steady rise and falls of his breathing. It was difficult not to feel a sense of reverence for witnessing someone like him in such a state of vulnerability-- something that struck Sigma as very beautiful, and so very intimate, even if that wasn't the intention. What was he dreaming of, he wondered?

If anyone were to ask him where the urge to kiss the soldier had stemmed from, there were simultaneously so many yet so few answers he would be able to give, but it would, primarily, have to be chalked up to an awful, terrible, horrific lapse in judgement on his part. It's a impulse not dissimilar to how one might desire to kiss a small animal purely on account of its degree of cuteness-- and he happened to find Jack very cute, practically clinging to him in his sleep. Against all better restraint, Sigma dares to crane his neck to the side, reasoning that the sooner he goes through with it, the less likely he is to disturb the other. Tentatively, thin, pale lips brush against the corner of the other's mouth only briefly, a touch of amusement bubbling up at the sensation of Jack's stubble tickling his lips-- at least, until he sees him stirring back to wakefulness, with their faces still quite inexplicably close together.

"I-- I-I SHOULD HAVE WOKEN YOU UP! Sorry! F-fuck-- SORRY! I AM SORRY!" he stammers, abruptly rolling over to avoid having to make any form of eye contact. "You looked so comfortable-- I… I do not know why I did that!"

. Sleep changed when he slept next to Sigma.

. Whether it was due to the anomaly or just the comforting presence of the doctor, Jack's sleepless nights were fewer and farther between, mind quieting pleasantly. Perhaps it was just that part of him that was so desperately touch starved, greedy for attention and a warm body by his side. When Sigma offered that readily, Jack clung to it like a lifeline, trying and failing to stifle the part of him that desired contact so desperately.

. Even in his sleep, an arm was wrapped around Sigma's middle, his head resting on the doctor's shoulder and legs tangled together like an impossible knot of aching knees and ankles.

. The feeling of something so close to his face, touching stubble, wakes him, eyes flipping open and head snapping back from the source. He'd anticipated danger, but all he could see in the low light was Sigma's face still so close to his.

. Adrenaline and confusion still swam through him for a flash, mind struggling to piece things together as Sigma rolled over and babbled. He stared blearily at the man's back, finally aware of what happened and halfway amused at the reaction. Partially, it was surprising, partially, not. It wasn't like that was an illogical step considering how often they fell asleep in these bases curled up with one another.

. "You don't have to apologize," he said after a moment, voice full of fatigue. It was an odd feeling- not what he had anticipated waking up to- but he wasn't entirely opposed. "Do you want an actual one?" Jack asked sleepily, attempting to roll the doctor back over to face him.

[dimensionalspades]

[ META ] + SEP ( for Jack LMAO )

- META || accepting -

@deathsighs

As stated, the program was made as a sort of Hail Mary approach to creating enhanced soldiers to combat the Crisis. Soldiers would be approached about a program, very much lured in by propaganda about an experimental project that could save the world and all that, make them feel like heroes.

The program would put Soldiers into units under a commanding officer, Jack landed in Gabe's unit. The serum was administered in batches; first to unit a, then a week later, unit b, and so on. This meant that the serums would have a small incubation period to check for horrific side effects before moving forward. While there were some things put in place to help with the general strain of the program, this wasn't exactly a water-tight operation due to rushed implementation.

The biggest challenge was that because of the nature of the serum and what it was doing to the soldiers' bodies, there was no real way to predict how it would affect each soldier. So one dose could kill a soldier outright while another had much more mild symptoms.

The weekly injections gave the soldiers some time to recuperate, work out, etc between shots. Life was pretty scheduled in terms of recreational time and mock battles, workouts, etc. Still instilling military values, lots of propaganda in the halls, that kinda thing. It was a very 'serve your country, your sacrifice is needed' kind of shit. Side effects could range from mild, like muscle cramps and sinus pressure, to more serious, like seizures and cancerous growths. The general process was that the first few injections were the worst, and then as the body adapted and grew stronger, it'd get... marginally better. Enhanced healing would aid in managing pain and symptoms, but a serum could still kill a soldier even in the "home stretch" of the program.

In Jack's case, he struggled with a lot of the injections but got through them. However, nearing the end of the program, he had one that caused him to suffer a grand mal seizure and he was laid up for a few weeks. In general, the program was hell on everyone, and Jack spent a lot of time trying to keep the spirits of his fellow soldiers up. Many didn't survive the program, some were lost in the Crisis, and by the time Overwatch was formed, only a few of the enhanced soldiers were still alive.

[dimensionalspades]

@apoapsis said: ( tend ) : sender looks after receiver when they’ve been hurt [sigma for jack]

- affectionate || accepting -

. He griped whenever he was reminded he wasn't a young man anymore; it sunk through bruised muscles and aching bones.

. Chasing down leads, fighting back Talon, it all seemed pointless when he was beaten down, something fractured somewhere, bleeding stemmed until his body could reach it. There were small victories, yes, but the sizeable price for gaining mere inches of ground seemed ridiculous.

. But seeing Sigma alleviated the anger, settling it out into a simmer, and he was grateful for the man. Coming back to empty bases, stitching himself up, doing all of it alone always opened a hungry maw of social starvation. Never was it solved by Sigma, but it was made easier. He could only hope he provided something similar. Though, Sigma never needed stitches in hard-to-reach places. His lower back was impossible to reach these days, especially with something sharp.

. When they've eaten ordered food and are settled in for the evening, the world feels just a little less hopeless.

. What the man was working on, Jack didn't know, but laying with his head in Sigma's lap and hearing the soft taps of his fingers on the tablet is enough to make him sleepy despite the lingering pain. Outside, he can hear the soft pattering of rain, a steady drone that, when mixed with the soft sounds of Sigma's work, nearly lull him to sleep. Every time Sigma checks in, asks him how he's feeling, Jack murmurs back that he's alright, or that he could use painkillers, and he's grateful when Sigma leans over to his duffel and gets what they have.

. After some time, he decides that it wouldn't be so bad to rest his eyes.

[dimensionalspades]

Send me ➵ and I will bold all that applies to your muse ( for Jack or Julian! )

- all that applies || accepting -

Bold for always, italics for sometimes/interested

I would hurt you or use you. | you unsettle me. | I dislike you or you annoy me. | I would like to get to know you better. | I pity you. | you confuse me. | I feel indifferent towards you. | I would be friends with you. | I would fight by your side. | I would hug you or hold your hand. | I would kiss you. | I would sleep with you. | I would lie for you. | I would protect you. | I would fall in love with you. | I would kill for you | I respect you. | you are my family. | I don’t know you.

I would hurt you or use you. | you unsettle me. | I dislike you or you annoy me. | I would like to get to know you better. | I pity you. | you confuse me. | I feel indifferent towards you. | I would be friends with you. | I would fight by your side. | I would hug you or hold your hand. | I would kiss you. | I would sleep with you. | I would lie for you. | I would protect you. | I would fall in love with you. | I would kill for you | I respect you. | you are my family. | I don’t know you.

[dimensionalspades]

@tlacehualli said: "I've been gathering intel, biding my time." [for Soldier]

- shield || accepting -

. He stayed where he was, not quite relaxed just yet. Though he still scanned the horizon every few moments, he had fully sat down, back against the far wall, able to watch her and the exits at the same time. His gun was set aside, very clearly in range but not in his hands.

. "For what?" He finally asked. The bottom half of the mask was tipped up, not exposing his face, but allowing him to drink from a bottle of the local beer. Not his favorite, but good enough. "You wait too long and it'll probably be too late."

. He still knew so little about her and her motivations. She seemed to be hiding from something, but what that something was or if that something was just a nebulous "everyone", he didn't know. He figured if he could keep his secrets, she could keep hers, for now.

[dimensionalspades]

@apoapsis said: ".... I know you have feelings. Feelings that make you so sad-- that make you just want to give up. That is not your fault." [Sigma comforting a stressed and lonely Jack?? U KNOW Sigma's gonna hold him]

- eeaao || accepting -

. A part of him froze at that, the rest forced him to hide that flash of vulnerability that threatened to choke him. The nightmare still clung to him, even if he was already forgetting most of the details within it.

. He remembered pulling a dead man out of rubble thinking he could still hear him crying for help, pushing someone through a doorway before it collapsed, hearing himself giving directives, feeling the floor give way. He was going to die, he was going to die, and did he deserve it? The month after the explosion still came up empty- flashes of his unrecognizable face in the mirror as he tried to stem the bleeding, his eyes just a little too dark, his hair the wrong color, his teeth coated in red- stitching torn flesh and desperately trying to keep his hand steady.

. It was his face, right?

. Back channels and social medias checked, looking in on what had become of those he'd loved. Faces came with names, trying to pair them, trying to remember people as they'd been, recovering fragments of memories and relationships; they all felt like strangers- he knew a face, but behind it was a blank.

. How pathetic he felt when it all surfaced and bled into the waking world- even worse when it was in the presence of another. Few had seen him in this state, and the eyes of someone else on him while that sinking pit in his chest threatened to swallow him up only made him more acutely aware of the weight on him that threatened to crack his spine. Everything felt fragile, so impossibly brittle.

. Arms encircling him broke that miserable reverie, a hand clutching one arm in a vise-like grip. It felt like if the doctor let go, he'd break into a thousand pieces. His breathing was deep and nearly labored, eyes fixated ahead as he fought to keep his composure despite the overwhelming tide.

. He'd thought of it often- giving up. How many times had he barely felt human, barely alive and just existing in a constant state of running, fighting, soldiering on despite the crushing weight of his failure? He remembered laughing at the thought of retirement when he was still at the top of the world. It'd seemed so silly. Why would he ever want to stop being a 'Hero'.

. He wanted to speak, tell Sigma he couldn't give up- the options were this or death, and he only accept this because death terrified him. But, oh, god, he wanted to lay down sometimes, to accept what had been done and that it would never change.

. But, like many others broken by the destruction of Overwatch, he refused. He kept going, searching for answers.

. Gods, but there were so many better options. He could return to the new Overwatch, accept their righteous ire, and go from there. No apology would feel like enough, but wasn't it worth it to try, to give them that option? Every time he came close, he was overwhelmed by what came with that, and, like a selfish coward, he hid again.

. For now, this was the way forward.

. He finally relaxed against Sigma, adrenaline dissipating slowly.

. "Sorry," he mumbled tiredly, head falling against Sigma's shoulder as the rest of his body seemed to follow suit. His tablet nearby read 03:45. He exhaled, turning enough that he could lay against Sigma's side with one arm thrown across his chest. "Thanks," he murmured tiredly against the man's shoulder. "Just need... it'll be fine."

[dimensionalspades]

@mercymedic said: "Why are you still here?" / jack

- general || accepting -

. There were a dozen ways to answer that, some sad, some angry, some silly. He didn't know which one he liked the most, especially given who was asking. Angela could get annoyed at him, or the answer could amuse her- he couldn't really tell if she was asking in the sense of this very moment, or if she was asking in a general sense, metaphorically asking why Jack was still out and about.

. "Well, I'd say it's because no one's killed me yet." It covered the bases. Amusing if she was joking, but true all the same. Despite great effort by others, no one had killed him yet, so here he was, being a thorn in someone's side.

[dimensionalspades]

"It isn't that simple-- why do you keep asking me to do that?" They're entangled together again-- something he shouldn't be engaging in anymore. On all accounts, these visits should have stopped the very moment any contact was made. It's getting difficult to justify coming out here when he finds himself asking less and less relevant questions-- instead sinking so deeply into Jack's bizarre, fleeting embraces.

Maybe he just enjoyed the implication that Jack needed him, whether he was simply an instrument for comfort or solace-- it didn't really matter, did it?

But when Jack expresses agitation when he begins to indicate it's time to take his leave, it's hard to tell where the prickliness comes from. Never quite physically preventing or deterring him from returning-- Sigma still had begun to notice an annoying increase in the amount of disapproval he expressed upon the doctor beginning to take his leave. Insisting that he didn't have to return to them, that Talon wasn't even good for him-- worst of all, asking him why; why he would ever return to them after every horrible thing they've subjected him to.

No matter what the soldier would claim, it was beginning to feel as though he wanted to know why Talon, and not him instead.

… But Jack won't even acknowledge what they've been doing-- the way they find themselves readily slipping beside one another as if they weren't actually enemies, or how, for the last six visits, not one question has been asked or answered in regards to either Talon or Overwatch. It's treated as if it were something unspoken, that if one of them were to break the silence in regards to it, that it would, finally, come to a conclusion. It isn't something he'd mind-- if only he'd stop pushing. Why would he push so hard for something he doesn't even acknowledge in open conversation? It would be nice to know what they were-- or even what they were doing together.

"… I still need them, Jack. They are the only ones capable of-- or even willing to-- returning me to the Lunar Colony. I cannot leave-- I have told you this." He speaks evenly, lavender eyes slipping shut as he suppresses the pang of frustration-- and avoids gazing up into Jack's eyes from where he lies draped over Sigma's chest lethargically. "-- Why must I adjust when I have made no such request of you…?" Sigma rasps tiredly, turning his head to the side to glance around the makeshift living space. "Is it because I refused to tell you the nature of my return to the Colony? Or is… something else on your mind…?" [some sigma angst for jack bc ♥]

. Sometimes he knew he could be less of what Sigma needed. Both due to his situation and due to how he viewed Talon. Sigma was different from them, he was part of them, he was both, somehow, and Jack's brain fought with that. To him, it was simple. Talon treated Sigma poorly, he should leave.

. Maybe part of it was that Jack still struggled to wrap his mind around what Sigma was, how he existed, how he functioned as he was. Sigma and Siebren were not the same. Siebren and he had a vastly different relationship than him and Sigma. But they were the same person. They were aware of each other, aware of him in relation to the other in a sense.

. Neither. Both. And then both again. Talon, Sigma, Siebren, Were all these things too tightly interlinked to ever truly be separated?

. It gave him a headache trying to understand all of it. Wouldn't it be simpler to be free of Talon? Suppose not.

. Maybe he really had been pushing Sigma too much about it. His hatred of Talon could have colored his tone, spilled annoyance into places it shouldn't be. He knew his determination could latch onto anything, become a nuisance that did not break until some goal was achieved, but here, it was not a nebulous goal (fix this, fix that, fix all of the things he broke), it was a man who very much knew what was at stake, knew what he risked coming out to spend so much time with Jack.

. Sigma's reaction more upset him in the sense that he despised the notion he could have caused more distress to the man.

. "No." There's a pause. What Sigma did for himself, Jack usually didn't question, so long as it was for himself and not for Talon (again, interlinked, of course). But, again, linked. He furrowed his brows, realizing that it was difficult to parse his feelings, sitting up more fully, then, his expression morphing to one of deep concentration. Their legs remained somewhat awkwardly threaded together, Jack doing nothing to pull more contact away. Talon, Sigma, Siebren, a tight mesh. Jack wished to pluck one or two threads out, but he could not, only making a mess of the tapestry that made up Sigma's life.

. "Just bothers me, I guess," he added after some moments. "But you're right." Of course. "Think it seems like hell for you working with them." It wasn't like anyone else really could (or would) help the scientist get back to the Colony. Resources were thin everywhere, and Sigma's entire situation was difficult to explain- not to mention Talon's hands in things. The second they found out, they'd come down on him anyways, of that Jack was certain. Finally, he looked back down at the man. "I'm sorry. You're right."

. Maybe, in the end, it was that something else. Frustration that he'd fallen for someone inside of Talon, frustration at where he was in the world (and his own choices that led him there), frustration that he'd laughed off retirement and love a hundred times as Strike-Commander when the two of those were the only things he wanted at the moment. A part of it remained the frustration that he couldn't adequately give Sigma much. A place to rest, an ear to listen, some meals, a few laughs. Nothing concrete, nothing that would last. He'd give the world just to have a place they could live quietly.

. If he could even admit what they were to himself, much less Sigma or Siebren.

. "I'll see you next time, then?" His features softened considerably, now, part of a smile on tired lips. "Won't be lazy, and I can cook something instead of ordering."

[dimensionalspades]

@chronal-anomaly said: "Hold on, I'm doing some math in my 'ead." Give me Lena doing complex aerospace calculus while Jack watches - either one or both of them in said plane while it's in trouble.

- outer worlds || accepting -

. Jack grunted as he got his bearings, hearing the metallic creaks and groans of the transport as it bore the onslaught of Null Sector's anti aircraft artillary. Lena had been able to outmaneuver them thus far, but a shot had clipped the vehicle and now they were freefalling. Jack gripped the other seat, keeping his footing as best he could while he strapped back in.

. "No need to rush..." he mumbled as he checked back to make sure the door at the back remained closed. He'd strapped it in about four places. It shook, but remained sealed. Winston and Brigitte were going to be displeased at the work needed to fix it. "I like freefalling into a Null Sector nest," he added, still to himself, feeling wholly useless now that he was waiting on her for the next step.

. "Just tell me how I can help- if- I can help." She was certainly smarter than him, here, so brute strength was the most he could give. Might be useful.

[dimensionalspades]

@chronal-anomaly said:

"I need your help." Her voice shaky, nervous. The tips of her ears had long turned red with the shame of the thing, two different burned attempts at dinner already piled in the sink. "Wanted to cook Emily a nice dinner, she'll be home tonight, and this 'as just been a disaster-" panic tinged her tone as she raked her fingers uselessly through her hair.

"Help, please." [ either Jack or Julian! ]

. He'd taken apart part of the mask, trying to figure out what had happened to the filters, the recent failure had made them less effective, and he'd hate to be hit by an airborne agent when they were malfunctioning. He'd been taking up Lena's coffee table for an hour, now, turning his head this way and that, trying to understand which of those small parts was the culprit (it was only meant to have been half that). But when she entered looking so upset, Jack immediately set the mask aside, hearing her out.

. A part of him was glad the problem was just food. He could help, there, with no blood or gunsmoke on either of their parts.

. He grinned as he shifted to stand, rolling up his sleeves.

. "Think I can help with that," he said with a chuckle. "What are you making? Anything we can salvage for this next attempt?" He was more familiar with breakfast foods, but, hey, he wasn't exactly a slouch in the kitchen.

[dimensionalspades]

@valourant said: "I'm in about as much trouble as I can be." Cassidy to Jack!

- outer worlds || accepting -

. "Knowing you, that's a hell of a lot of trouble," he said, arms crossed. The visor scanned the cowboy, offering a smattering of information like his identity and the considerable bounty on his head. Jack didn't consider himself terribly generous or kind these days, but he was incorrigibly curious.

. "I take it you need help if you're tellin' me about it," Jack added after a moment. It could be that Cassidy just wanted a listening ear, but the old soldier liked to err on the side of caution. Even so, Cassidy was one of the few that could actually get his cooperation easier than most. That didn't guarantee said cooperation, but Jack would hear the man out.