#deathmarked — ft. REVENANT

[shepcdr]

@deathmarked ∗ REVENANT.

THERE'S REALLY LITTLE STAKE, other than death, for shepard in the games. gain the syndicate's interest — he'd checked that particular box as early as the qualifiers ... when shepard had smiled up at a smug bastard twice his size before his eyes had crackled blue and the man was sent flying into the side of a crumbling building. the smell of blood thickened the air within moments, the sound of wood splintering indistinguishable from bones snapping. the screaming was too distracting for him to really tell, anyway. and shepard had turned and walked away, thoroughly unconcerned, shaking his head to-and-fro as though that could dispel the static in his hair.

he had felt eyes burning into him, even through the drone cameras, the very moment his skin began to glow. there: syndicate interest piqued. and now, to keep it. 

but he's still got to survive long enough to make any use of his new notoriety. revenant's a wild card — shepard's known that since the day the simulacrum was introduced to the apex games, and seasons of observation through a screen has done little for shepard's opinion of revenant's sanity and trustworthiness. regardless, having revenant on his team should help shepard more than hinder him.

something's not right. evidently.

he approaches revenant in the aftermath of the battle, helmet tucked beneath his arm. the smell of burnt metal lingers between them; a gash from an L-STAR seared a gash in the side of his helmet just minutes ago, splitting the N7 insignia in two. sweat trickles in rivulets down shepard's now bare temple, and he wipes at them with his forearm. it doesn't do much — grime rubs from his armour and onto his skin, streaking blood and dirt across his forehead. but shepard doesn't seem to care.

" what the hell's wrong with you? " he meant to snarl the words, to let the rising rage in his chest unfurl. but the question comes out a low hiss, quivering despite his otherwise carefully evened tone. it's harder still to hide the dilated pupils swallowing ordinarily steel-grey eyes in black.

" listen. i don't give a shit what you do when you run off. if you wanna throw the game on your own, that's your prerogative — but this? this was too fucking close. " swarmed beneath two squads that had exchanged glances before turning their guns on shepard, and in the sight lines of who knew how many more teams ... the only reason he'd gone in was because the simulacrum was there. because they had a plan.

" i almost died. why'd you fuck with the totem? "