#how am i supposed to ever see her in new livestreams otherwise | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

purplesurveys · 4 years

Text

777

do you think weird it's for someone to have never tried soda? I’d be surprised that they were never curious enough to try it if they can access soda, but then again I live in a third world country and not everyone gets to try everything. I’ve learned to judge less when it comes to opportunities like this. is there any foreign film you recommend? Portrait of a Lady on Fire was fucking intense and so, so so good. do you have the same religious beliefs as your parents? My dad might also be atheist, but I’ve never known for sure. He once confided in me that he was atheist in college but “it changed” when he met my mom... but honestly we’ve always grunted the same way whenever my mom tells us it’s time to pray or if we have to watch our weekly mass livestream. So idk. I think he just acts Catholic to appease her, but yeah he’s definitely weird about it. which floor of your house/building are you on now? Second floor. It’s my first time to want to hang out in my bedroom in months because IT’S ACTUALLY RAINING and it’s cold enough in my room to wanna stay here. are there any maps hanging in your room? No maps here.

are you often a third wheel? or is someone a third wheel to you? Yep I third wheel pretty often. My girlfriend and I study in different schools and I have friends in my school who are couples, so if Gab isn’t visiting my campus for the day I just tag along with my couple friends. I don’t get bothered or feel insecure by it because I have my own relationship lolol what's the last dvd you bought? Holy shit...DVD? I don’t even remember anymore. It was most likely an Audrey Hepburn film, back in 2013 when I was really into her. That or Beyoncé’s Life Is But A Dream documentary, which was the last thing she ever released on DVD. Also came out in 2013. tell me about your favorite pair of jeans. High-waisted 90s-styled jeans. Nothing much to say other than they fit me well, I got a lot of compliments whenever I have them on, and they match any t-shirt I paired with, which made me like wearing t-shirts again haha. would you ride a motorcycle if given the chance? (or have you?) I would but only if someone super experienced was driving. I haven’t been on one because my parents don’t allow me to, and tbh I don’t mind the rule because I’m mostly scared of motorcycles anyway. is your hair healthy? No. Some hair salon I went to around ten years ago put some cheap products in my hair when I had it rebonded and it never felt 100% healthy again. Until today it gets very stiff when it gets into contact with water and only shampoo, and I always have to pair it with conditioner. if a hotel offered free breakfast in bed, what would you order? Eggs Benedict and some very creamy warm coffee. how often do you take a train? Never. I don’t trust the public transport here and I’m better off driving in my own car. what are your thoughts on reincarnation? (have you ever read up about it?) I don’t think of it at all because I don’t believe in it. I don’t mind others who are into it, just don’t shove it down my throat. what's your favorite led zeppelin song? I don’t have one. does your home have a balcony/deck/porch? Yeah we have a balcony. We used to have a full balcony, but we transformed 3/4 of it into my brother’s current room a few years ago because he was starting to grow up and he needed his own room. We retained 1/4 of the space so that it can be the place where my dog can still do his business. what does your closet/wardrobe say about you? It says I am a very messy person who can’t keep her closet consistently organized lol. It will also tell you I’m quite girly based on the clothes I own. do you enjoy theatre? I was never a fan. how would you feel about traveling abroad alone? If I was offered the chance to do it I certainly wouldn’t give it up, but I really, really, preferably would travel with at least one companion. Traveling is one of those experiences I’d want to share with someone, and I would hate if I had to go back to my hotel room at the end of the day with no one to talk to. who would you call a lyrical genius? Laura Jane Grace. how do you treat yourself? My go-to gift for myself is giving into my cravings hahaha. Nothing speaks more to me than food, and if I feel like I deserve a reward for a job well done, I’ll go to a slightly more expensive restaurant to celebrate. do you have an interesting passport? Idk, it’s a normal one and I never had it customized or anything. are you going to pursue a career according to what you enjoy? I hope I get to. I really enjoyed my PR internship and I’d love to be headed there. what happens to your old clothes? They go to the very back or the very bottom of my wardrobe for the most part. My mom will make us throw out clothes we don’t like anymore once a year, so that’s the time I get to get rid of them. what's your favorite frozen treat? Cornetto ice cream is one of my faaaaavorite comfort snacks. The end of the cone where they save chocolate chunks is the best part. who supports you financially? My parents. Getting increasingly guiltier about it by the day, too. if you wanted to go to the movie cinema, how would you get there? I would wait for the clock to strike midnight tonight, because in 48 minutes they’ll finally loosen lockdown rules AND I CAN FINALLY GO OUT. Hahaha. After that I’ll jump to my car, drive out of the village, take a u-turn, and I’m there. how many pillows are on your bed? Two big ones. would you pay more for organic food? Only if I had the money for it. Organic food is a thing of the (very) privileged here and is not very accessible to begin with, unless you’re in posher grocieries. have you ever had a crush on a sibling's friend or a friend's sibling? I haven’t. I’d find it weird considering they’re all a bit younger than me. do you have a friend who mooches? what to do about it? (or is it you?) She’s never done it with me but I’ve heard enough horror stories about her to know that she tends to do this, but yeah Mils is apparently quite the moocher. I’m soooo not one; I’d wait for my friends to offer to pay for stuff, but otherwise I’m fighting them over the bill lmao. do you know much about feng shui? (do you use it?) I’m not knowledgeable on it but I’m definitely familiar with it, because we have a rather large Filipino-Chinese community/culture in the country that glorifies feng shui during Chinese New Year season. I don’t really have a choice but have Chinese culture shoved down my throat whether it’s in the news, the media, or my Chinese friends. how would you make friends in a quiet class? I preferably wouldn’t because I’m only interested in getting good grades and getting that class over with hahaha. But if I was interested in making a friend or two, I’d typically scan the classroom and see who seems to be responsible? Like if they take notes as hard as I do. are you generally a quick learner? No. I take some time, and I especially take long if the thing being taught is more hands-on, like origami. I’ve just never been good at following certain tasks, and I prefer learning from reading instructions. what's your favorite spot to read? Skywalk or the dining table. has anyone given you a nickname you didn't like? (what was it?) Not that I can recall. I’m okay with all of them. did you know that buddha is not considered a god to buddhists? Yes. do you save tickets from movies, etc.? If it’s a significant enough date or event, sure. I’ve kept my 2018 Paramore gig ticket to this day, but like I’ve thrown out my ticket for Knives Out because I hated the movie lol. without looking him up, who was jim morrison? Vocalist for The Doors. when's the last time your bedroom was painted/wallpapered? Idk, 2006 or 2007 when the house was being made? It’s never been repainted. teach me something in another language. (not french/chinese/german/arabic) Why so language-ist lmaooooooo uh “Nakauwi ka na?” means “Did you get home? / Have you gotten home?” what type of body wash did you last use? Idk, I never read the labels on it actually. what type of music do you like and why? Right now I’m into lo-fi because it makes me feel relaxed, but I’m also starting to get into the recent trend where today’s artists put out songs that sound like they’re from the 80s, like Dua Lipa’s Physical or The Weeknd’s Blinding Lights - I think the genre is called synth pop/synthwave. They simply sound cool haha and they’re awesome to listen to while driving. if you randomly want to eat something in the house, do you eat it or wait? I check the time, like if we’re supposed to be having dinner soon, then act accordingly. who knows the most about you (besides yourself)? My girlfriend. do you have a nervous habit? (e.g. biting nails, tapping feet, smoking) Plucking eyebrow or eyelash hair, but that behavior is reserved for extreme cases where I’m incredibly and inconsolably anxious. On a milder day I would vape, sigh a lot, or bite my nails. how's your favorite pro sports team doing lately? I don’t watch sports with teams. would you be/are you a good role model to a younger sibling? I don’t get into trouble but I’m not the best influence either.

#survey #surveys

5 notes · View notes

dantecampanas · 4 years

Text

hello all, i’m pepper and i have never been on time for anything, ever, in my life dsjksdkj, but i am literally so much later than usual though, i am so sorry y’all but to make up for my tardiness under the cut is some stuff about this mess, dante. it’s messed up ride so i hope you enjoy? also, like this if you want to plot and i’ll literally come sprinting okay.

BIO ; tl;dr basically craig kielburger, but make it dark

to start here is Dante’s pinterest board.

and here is a song that reminds me of him so much it may as well be his anthem but also this other song because i wrote his app to it basically, it reminds me a lot of him, more the vibe than the actual lyrics but still.

okay so Dante’s family is kind of inspired by the Quinns (from ‘You’ on Netflix), the Castillos (from How to Get Away with Murder) and like Henry Goulding’s family in Crazy Rich Asians.

Dante Isaac Campana was brought into the world in Madrid, Spain with a silver spoon dangling out of his mouth. You’d never guess from looking at him, what with his hobo chic style and generally unkempt appearance but it’s the truth. He came in this world out of a well paid surrogate as the second child of the famous Sofia and Gabriel Campana, and he wanted for nothing because for it. His parents made sure of that.

Gabriel was a CEO and Sofia was a wildly successful author, and from the moment Dante could breathe his parents had his whole life set up for him. After all they wanted their son to be successful and they planned to make sure of it. A hefty trust fund in his name, to be accessible at the age of eighteen. A place in the family business that he would fill the moment he finished university. They even had an arrangement for who Dante would marry eventually, before he was even old enough to understand what the concept of marriage was. It was all planned out for Dante without the slightest bit of input from Dante himself, and Dante was just supposed to accept that. The funny thing is, at first, he did.

After all he was young, and he had no reason not to. He loved his parents deeply, passionately, but honestly, that was how Dante loved anything. One of his very first memories of his life is of his grandmother. They used to feed the ducks together when he was a child. Dante would throw whole loaves of bread into the water and his grandmother would always laugh and laugh until there were tears building at the corners of her wrinkled eyes. And one day, the day of the memory in question, Dante remembers her sitting him on her knee, smoothing back his wild curls and telling him that he was born with a heart too big for his body. A heart too big for this family. Dante was too young to know what it meant at the time, but it stuck with him. And by the time he was old enough to understand it, he knew she was right.

The truth is the Campanas were cold. Dante for the most part was an anomaly. Because while his parents probably did love him in return, they had an odd way of showing it. Cold hands pressed to warm cheeks, thin smiles of approval that didn’t quite reach their eyes. Never the words ‘i love you’, or ‘i’m proud of you’, or ‘i believe in you’, but instead the heavy feeling of expectation. If you wanted love, you had to earn it. If you wanted them to be proud of you, you had to do something to make them proud. Not be a person to make them proud, no. You had to do something.

So when Dante was twelve years old he did. Not on purpose mind you. Dante wasn’t even thinking of his parents in his pursuit, only of others. You see, when Dante was twelve years old he, mostly accidentally, started a non profit. I say accidentally because that wasn’t really what Dante was setting out to do. Honestly, it all started when he met a homeless teenager not much older than him, sat beside them on the little street corner they begged on, and was struck by the overwhelming, gnawing need to help. To make things better. To protect them, because no one else was doing it. It started with Dante rallying up the children at his private school, and later those children’s parents, and later those children’s grandparents. Or maybe it really started when Dante climbed up on the stage one school assembly, took the mic from their principal’s hands and gave an impromptu speech on the cause. No, to be honest, it really started when someone recorded that speech and put it on YouTube. Because the moment that speech went viral, so did Dante and his charity.

Even today if you look up Dante Campana you will be assaulted by a myriad of articles and photos of young Dante giving impassioned lectures to interviewers, to audiences, to millions of people over livestream. It was just something that Dante was passionate about that became much bigger than he intended, but he didn’t mind. He was helping people. He used the money that the charity brought in to build youth shelters, and food banks, and rehabilitation centers, all for homeless kids. It was everything he wanted.

And for once, his parents were proud. They loved him. They didn’t say it, but Dante knew it from the way they looked at him. Like he was their pride and joy. (Later, he would look back on that look. It would strike him as disturbingly too close to how one might look at a shiny new trophy, and he would never be able to look at his parents the same way again.)

Dante only became aware of how conditional his parents love for them was when his elder sister started to slip under the pressure they put on her shoulders. Anya Campana was about sixteen at the time, and Dante, three years her younger, had to watch as his sister crumbled. Anya had always cared too much about what their parents thought of her, about impressing them and making them proud. It didn’t help that her parents made it clear that they would not accept anything less than excellence from her, their first born. Anya was supposed to be their champion. The head of the family once their father was gone. The pressure of it all drove Anya to the edge. At first the edge was just adderall. Later cocaine, just to take the edge off, just to make things easier. To help her focus. Dante remembers catching her in the act. Remembers her crying. Remembers being shocked still, and just staring and staring as his perfect sister literally fell apart at his feet.

It wasn’t long until the weight of their parents expectations had drove Anya to a full on addiction, all in the pursuit of their favour. But of course, when Dante’s parents found out about Anya’s problem, they had no sympathy for her. Only disappointment. That ‘slip up’ cost Anya her role. She could no longer be the head of the family if her resolve was that weak; instead the position would fall to Dante, and Anya would be sent quietly, and shamefully, to rehab. it was an eye opening experience for Dante, honestly. To see just how replaceable their parents saw them.

The Campanas brand of cold was also fake. Plastic. Sure, they smiled in the public eye and the relationship between the siblings at least was genuine, but the truth was Gabriel was cheating on Sofia when he thought no one was looking (Dante was. A story for another time), and Sofia had openly slapped each of her children across the face at least once, usually when she got a bit too much wine in her. The older Dante got the more and more he felt his love for his parents becoming more of an obligation than anything tangible. Something cold and plastic itself. And he despised it.

When Dante was fifteen, just after Anya’s second stint in rehab, he and his sister were spending the day together to catch up. All they wanted to do was get ice cream together, talk a bit. But those plans were foiled when a black indistinct car rolled up beside them, and before Anya and Dante could even put up much of a fight, they were both blindfolded and tied up in the back of the car. It honestly shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was considering the Campanas were easily the wealthiest family in Spain. But the kidnapping was traumatic and shocking to Dante, especially because of course all these men wanted was money.

Their kidnappers called his father with every intention to get said money within the day. They asked him for one billion dollars for each child, which was a lot of money, but not an amount that the Campanas didn’t have, or couldn’t get access to if need be. But it was then that Dante got the second big shock of his life. His father refused to pay. Dante remembers his blood running cold at the statement heard over the speaker. He remembers his sister crying. He remembers the kidnapper shoving the phone into his face, demanding he beg his father otherwise. To convince him to love him enough to pay for his life. Dante remembers crying so much it hurt. Before that day he didn’t know that was possible.

The kidnappers gave their father a deadline. He had a full twenty four hours to get the money, or they would be killing one of his children. Their father agreed, and so Dante and Anya were left in the hands of their kidnappers for a full day. Dante still hasn’t properly talked to anyone about what happened during that time, and he’s not even sure he can. Honestly, looking back, the memories of it all are all a blur. Like even his hindsight is blurred with his tears.

The hour came and their father was called. He was asked for the money and told that if he didn’t pay it, his daughter would be shot. Once again, he refused. Dante can remember the gut wrenching sound Anya made at the news. It was at the chilling mid point between a sob and a scream. He can remember crying himself, but trying to comfort her as much as he could with his arms tied behind his back. And because he was touching her, he can remember the exact moment Anya flinched from the gunshot fired into her stomach. He can remember the warmth of her blood over his skin.

Dante can’t remember much after that. It’s like his mind filmed that day with a fish eye lens and half a roll of film. All blur, until it cuts out. More blur, and then it cuts out. The next thing he properly remembers is being in a hospital bed for shock. He remembers seeing his parents there. And he remembers being filled with a hatred more consuming than anything he ever felt before. Apparently he lunged at his father in a moment of rage. He doesn’t remember it, but enough doctors attested to it for Dante to find himself with a semi permanent place in mandated therapy. Well, due to that specific moment and, you know. The circumstances.

Dante learned that day that to his father, he and his sister were of different value. Dante was worth more than Anya. He didn’t mess up as much, or quite as publicly, and with everything with his charity, the media loved him. He was smart, and charismatic, and maybe he was a bit sensitive, but he could grow out of that. If they lost Anya, so what? They had Dante. He would lead the family to greatness.

And Dante did. After an abundance of therapy of course, well, during an abundance of therapy. Despite it all, somehow Dante didn’t buckle under the pressure. He took some time off from school, but once he got back to it his grades were the same as ever. He spent some time away from his charity, but once he was ready, he threw himself back into it with a single minded focus. He made a foundation for Anya, his sister. His world. And then he moved on. Came back stronger. At least in the public eye.

Privately, Dante was furious, and disgusted, and grieving. His sister, his confidante and likely one of the two people in his life to love him unconditionally, was gone. And she was never coming back. And Dante would never, ever be the same. He remembers attending Anya’s funeral. Seeing everyone cloaked in the colour she always hated, crying over her and telling lies about how much they adored her. He remembers his mother saying how proud she was of her daughter. He remembers his father saying how much he loved her. And he remembers feeling nothing. He remembers getting up on stage, drunk, and numb, and he remembers looking hard at them all. He vaguely remembers telling them all to fuck themselves, but after that? The film cuts out.

Dante spent a lot of time leaning on his friends then. Hiding from the sharks that were the paparazzi. Dante’s pain was like a healing wound, and they were drawn to it like the animals they were. Picked at to see if they could get him to bleed again. How are you coping, Dante? Will you be testifying in the court case, Dante? How much do you miss Anya, Dante? There is footage of Dante ripping a paparazzo's camera straight out of their hands and throwing it at them. Or at least there was. His father got rid of it before it could truly make it to the press, and the paparazzo, well, he walked away with three new stitches in his eyebrow and a significantly heavier wallet. Dante, for his part, walked away empty.

The truth was, now Dante was plastic. The bleeding heart that he once was now sadly hollow. He played the part though. And he played it well. To the world Dante was the golden boy. Any mistakes or slip ups were covered up neatly by his father, or his mother, or both. And the legend of Dante Campana, child philanthropist, and hero lived on. Y’see, Dante’s mother wrote a book about the whole experience, and took some creative liberties. In the novel, Dante tried to save his sister. Fought his captors. Held her hand as she bled out. As sick as it is, Dante read it, hoping it might jog some of his memories from the whole incident. It didn’t, but it could have been true for all Dante knew. Didn’t make him hate his mother any less for profiting off of the whole thing.

Eventually, Dante graduated. Accepted a position at Ashcroft University. And then he was handpicked for the Imperium Society. And that’s where he met Lady Macbeth.

And It was like for the first time in three years, Dante was living his life in colour again. He fell, and he fell hard, almost immediately upon meeting them, which was as much of a surprise to him as it was anyone else. Yes, Dante had dated before, and had crushes but he didn’t necessarily believe in love. Not after his parents lousy display of the whole thing. But he met them and that changed. He was consumed by love. Driven by it. He would do anything for them, absolutely anything. And he made that very clear very quickly, and never wavered. Not once.

In the time that Dante loved them he was brought back to some semblance of his old self. He found his passion again. He found his happiness again. And he knew it was because of them. They brought him back to himself. They made him better. And the gratitude, and codependency, and love all stirred itself into a poisonous mess that was more adoration, or rather idolization, than love. What he felt for her was something all consuming and probably not entirely healthy, but something that Dante dedicated himself to, like a religion.

Which is why when they told him about the issue with Octavia Dante was so incensed about it. For the most part, despite previous outbursts, Dante was kind. A peacekeeper. A joker. A lover. But when it came to those he loved, after everything with Anya, Dante was painfully protective. He promised himself long ago that no one coming after those he loved would get away with it. Not again.

That said, when Dante went to meet with Octavia he did his best to be calm. To be levelheaded, and understanding, and kind. But Dante’s reputation must have preceded him, because Octavia didn’t seem to see any reason why she should listen to him. Dante was the artist. The charity guy. The hippie. He was about as threatening as a puppy, or at least his public image was. Her words were sharp, and her disposition was cold, and Dante wouldn’t have cared, he truly wouldn’t have cared if the words she spat were just directed at him. But the moment Lady Macbeth was brought into things, Dante snapped, Othello’s presence be damned.

The film cut out.

The next thing Dante remembers is the aftermath. The water bottle he’d bought to reuse, to spare the plastic, to save the environment, to save the world, now ironically covered in blood. His hands slick with it for the second time in his life. Othello’s understandable panic. The shock was thick as fog once again, and the next thing Dante knows he’s at Lady Macbeth’s door, eyes hollow and hands shaking around the water bottle as he fully realizes what he’s done.

He never meant to. It was an accident. He lost control. All he wanted to do was protect them.

But somehow instead they ended up protecting him. And leaving him for Othello. A large part of Dante knows that he deserves nothing less. That what he did is a crime that deserves a much larger punishment, one that Lysander unfairly took on for him. But his heart is heavy with guilt, and now heartbreak on top of it all.

As if watching Lysander go to prison for his misdeeds and witnessing Lady Macbeth and Othello in their honeymoon phase all wasn’t enough torture, well, then there was Octavia’s ghost. Which was truly the most painful torture at all. Every time she visits Dante just ends up with breaking down. Terrified, guilty and asking for her forgiveness. He’s pretty sure it’s not helping in the slightest though, and he can’t blame her for being angry. She has every right to be, and honestly Dante is quickly reaching the breaking point. He’s seriously considering just turning himself in to appease her, and to make things right for Lysander, and he would do so in a heartbeat if there wasn’t the risk of Lady Macbeth going down with him. So Dante is at a stand still. Miserable, and in pain, but doing his best not to show it to keep up appearances. Luckily it’s an act he’s been putting on for a good portion of his life, so he’s good at it. But he’s crumbling at the edges, and he’s not sure how much longer it’ll take for everyone to notice.

To cope Dante has been indulging in a lot of his sister’s old habits. Drinking. Drugs. The same mechanisms he used to cope with her death, but quit once he met Lady Macbeth. Now, without them, he’s just using leaning on them in an attempt to make things easier.

PERSONALITY ; god who knows dkjsdjksd dante is very fresh and new so he’s a bit of a mess in my brain and he will definitely develop into something new passed this point but

PASSIONATE! god he’s so passionate, like dante just feels everything on 10 one hundred percent of the time, especially since lady macbeth came into his life. The type to get teary eyed over a dead bird, but also the type to like stay up five days straight working on a project because he can’t get it out of his mind.

despite this used to think romantic love was a straight up myth lmao because of his parents relationship, so we love a contradictory king. a bleeding heart but also a philophobe, and now a murderer, wow what a resume. lady macbeth changed that a lot for him, so for like a WHILE dante like became the poetry writing, love is the answer, romantic which had to be a drastic change for anyone who knew him before

nurturing honestly? but only with people he actually cares about like juliet or lady macbeth.

but also impulsive, as we can see, like dante doesn’t tend to really think before he makes any decisions. he just does things man

thinks he’s funny! sometimes he is tbh. a bit of a good natured goofball generally. willing to do pretty much anything to cheer someone up

a big ol’ flirt just naturally, like he’s honestly very charming, but like so was ted bundy yk. also bi, but like all my muses are, so sdkjsdkj are we surprised at all, i don’t think so.

very touchy feely tbh because he’s a tactile person.

a live and let live kinda guy like actually,,, so close to a hippie it’s not even funny.

a bit promiscuous more so before lady macbeth came into his life and he became entirely enamored, and now a bit because he’s heartbroken and just looking for any sort of connection.

the most generous person when it comes to money and kindness. the type to sit down with a homeless person and end up giving them his jacket, five hundred dollars, and a new outlook on life as he leads them to one of his youth centers. Has actually thrown himself into his charity a lot more since Octavia’s death. Is kind of viewing the whole thing as penance.

the type to hold a grudge until the day he dies, but also the type of person who can’t NOT help someone who needs help you know. like he hates his parents but if his mother called him tomorrow like i want to see you one last time before i die, he would fly out to spain to see her.

very liberal. literally can’t talk to conservatives without wanting to physically fight them. has definitely gone to protests and gotten arrested for punching a nazi, but his father probably covered it up.

HEADCANNONS ; alright now onto the fun stuff

fun fact, was actually brought into the world via surrogate because his parents had a lot of trouble conceiving, like both of them were pretty much impotent. so he’s not technically blood related to either of his parents, neither was anya.

deaf in his left ear and has been all his life. it’s kind of difficult for him to hear a specific person talking in a crowd of too many people, especially if you’re standing on his left so he might straight up text you instead. also if you’re standing on his left side in general, he might turn to face you to better hear you. can speak multiple different sign languages including asl, bsl, auslan, and of course catalan.

has delightful spanish accent but speaks fluent english because of all the networking he grew up doing with his parents, also you know, very expensive private school. also is fluent in french, italian, romanian and portuguese, like just the romance languages honestly. he’s traveled a lot though so he can get by in a few other languages, which basically means he can hold a stilted conversation and ask where the bathroom is.

Despite his charity being his life and occupation kind of, at heart Dante is an artist. Like his art is everything to him and his is actually quite popular. He gets a lot of offers from people wanting to buy it but he can never part with anything he’s made so he always refuses the offers, no matter how much money the customer is bidding. It’s not like Dante needs the money anyways, so he has refused offers on grounds of menial things such as ‘i didn’t like the vibes he was giving off’ or ‘he looked like a republican’ or even, once ‘pretty sure i saw that guy in a dream once. god, he sucked.’ So most of his art decorates his dorm room instead, and he’ll even give some to friends for free. Dante actually wanted to become a full time artist once he graduated, along with keeping up with his charity but considering how picky he is about who actually buys his art, he’ll literally make no money, which is okay because again, he’s rich. Now though, he’s considering just pouring himself into his charity and forgetting about his art because, you know, penance dkjdf.

Actually learned to cook from his family chef, and is really, really good at it, like professional level good at it. He hasn’t really had time to get any actual professional training but he really wants to. He has absolutely snuck into culinary school very briefly before just to sit in on a few classes. Just pretended he went there and made a bunch of friends and he learned a lot of stuff, and even taught some culinary students a few things. He was eventually discovered, but then he made friends with the professor, and now he just comes by whenever he wants or has the time. That’s the kind of guy Dante is.

Honestly pretty good at anything having to do with his hands, like if he had a label it’d probably be the artisan. Dante is the type of person who knows nothing about like mechanics but can like fix something if you put it in front of him. Likes to make furniture as a hobby, so hit your boy up if you want a sexy chair. Also makes sculptures and does a bit of pottery, like he’s a jack of all trades when it comes to tactile things only.

Intelligent in the way that he just has a lot of pretty well informed opinions like if you want a fun fact don’t go to Dante but if you want a good insightful conversation he’s your man. Not like… clever at all though, like he doesn’t have a manipulative or conniving bone in his body, and it’s really hard for him to tell when he’s being manipulated or taken advantage of. He thinks with his heart rather than his brain honestly. Like if you’ve ever heard the story of the foolish traveler... that’s Dante’s fool ass. If you haven’t here it is.

A big defender of the environment. He was planning on launching a charity for that too, and honestly he’s probably throwing himself into that project to stop thinking about all this.

Has a bunch of tattoos, usually of his own art or other art that’s moved him. I imagine him with at least one sleeve that’s beautiful, and he’s probably starting another. Is seriously considering a neck tat. His parents would hate it and that just makes him love it more.

If you watch jenna marbles i want you to know that Dante is Julian in the kitchen and Julian in the kitchen only, but somehow everything he makes end up coming out near perfect anyways.

surprisingly has a green thumb? can revive almost any plant with relative ease.

never learnt how to ride a bike tbh, but does ride a motorcycle so?

Has taken to religion like a mad man ever since Octavia’s death, like he’s suddenly at church once a week. He tells everybody that it’s for his art, and that he just wants to study the stained glass, but really he’s praying for Octavia’s forgiveness. He’s pretty sure it’s not working in the slightest though.

Kind of salty that Octavia of all people is haunting him but he hasn’t seen his sister’s ghost once. Actually kind of believes in the supernatural and karma and all that, so he wasn’t too shocked by the whole Octavia coming to him in the night thing. Always thought that he could feel his sister watching over him so, now at least he has that confirmed.

suffers from black outs, but i feel like that was obvious in my little bio sksdjkjsd straight up has stretches of time that he has no recollection of. it tends to happen when he gets really angry or in really traumatizing situations but honestly people close to dante probably know that he’s just lost stretches of time like you could mention something from his childhood or even a few weeks ago (actually especially a few weeks ago) and dante would just be like... i don’t remember that. honestly has been feeling like he’s kinda going crazy since his sister died, so literally since he was like fifteen oof.

has been painting some pretty dark stuff lately like since the whole octavia thing, like just in tone and color. probably a bit reminiscent of the stuff he painted after anya for those who knew him then, but if you met him after lady macbeth then this is a drastic change because his art got very beautiful and full of life then you know.

#spectreintro #d.c. | bio.#i'm gonna just post this so i can stop looking at it #otherwise imma drive myself up the WALL

5 notes · View notes

kat-anni · 6 years

Text

Tag thing again :)

tchrashbagg Tagged by @sindar-princeling again! Thanks, Darling ^^

Rules: Once you’ve been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 92 truths about you. At the end choose 25 people to be tagged.

LAST:

Last Drink: Water, Chai Latte

Last Phone Call: My Health Insurance

Last Text Message: to @ashe-wottlin probably xD

Last Song You Listened To: All Stars - Martin Solveig feat. ALMA

Last Time I Cried: Yesterday cause of some Youtube video but I cry easily when I’m moved. Real crying...I think it was about two weeks ago now.

HAVE YOU EVER:

Dated Someone Twice: yes my ex-Boyfriend

Been Cheated On: No

Kissed Someone and Regretted It: Yes, all of them (I’m sorry boys but kissing is gross. that sounded immature but I honestly don’t like it that much)

Lost Someone Special: Almost all my Grandparents, otherwise no

Been Depressed: Yes, I mean I’m not diagnosed...but there’s certainly a problem here. Working on it

Been Drunk and Thrown Up: No

IN THE PAST YEAR HAVE YOU:

Made a New Friend: Yes

Fallen Out of Love: No

Laughed Until You Cried: Yes

Met Someone Who Changed You: Yes

Found Out Who Your True Friends Were: Yes

Found Out Someone Was Talking About You: Yes

GENERAL:

How many people on tumblr do you know in real life?: Uuuuh. like 5-7?? I’ve showed a few people to my tumblr bust most (hopefully) don’t really care.

Do you have any pets?: Yes, my cute little kitten, Merlin

Do you want to change your name?: Nope, quite like mine

What time did you wake up this morning?: 7:30 am

What were you doing last night?: Writing (it’s NaNo), skyping with a friend

Name something you cannot wait for: actually I’m looking forward to moving and working?? I know it’s weird

Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Yes

What’s getting on your nerves rn?: ...so many things. I need to calm down. Mainly everything that’s politics atm, Germany and America

Blood type: B

Nickname: Anni, beautiful tropical fish

Relationship status: Single

Zodiac sign: Taurus

Pronouns: She/her

Favorite tv show: Agents of Shield, Brooklyn 99, Lucifer (gimme all the good females)

College: yes. ?? I have a master of Arts in Game Design (yay)

Hair colour: Brown

Long or short: long, growing it out rn and it fucking breaks T_T

Do you have a crush on someone: No.

What do you like about yourself: if I can drop my bullshit i can be v efficient and work fast. Also I like ma face.

FIRSTS:

First surgery: On my toe

First piercing: Ears

First best friend: Primary school classmate, see her in the city sometimes but no contact

First sport you joined: Dancing (like performing to one song with like 20 other girls, loved it)

First vacation: Tunesia? maybe? Maybe Denmark

First pair of sneakers: Converse bought in New York, think those were the first that qualified as sneakers

Eating: Mint Chocolate

Drinking: Water

I’m about to: go eat dinner

Listening to: Dan Howlter’s Livestream on Youtube

Want kids: No

Get married: Meh, depends

Career: Games Development

WHICH IS BETTER:

Lips or eyes: Both

Hugs or kisses: Hugs

Shorter or taller: Well all Germans are apparently tall compared to some other parts of the world so...it’s cool to be taller but I don’t really care? I’m used to being shorter though, my brother is a freaking giant

Older or younger: Depends if I can talk to them, age doesn’t really matter

Romantic or spontaneous: Neither

Sensitive or loud: Sensitive

Hook up or relationship: Relationship

Troublemaker or hesitant: Hesitant

HAVE YOU EVER:

Kissed a stranger: Yes

Drank hard liquor: Yes

Lost glasses/contacts: No, but I’ve broken mine by driving over them with my roller chair. That was fun.

Sex on first date: No

Broken someone’s heart: Definitely. I’m sorry, but me being friendly has never been me flirting and I know too many guys who didn’t get that.

Been arrested: No

Turned someone down: Yes, see above

Fallen for a friend: No

DO YOU BELIEVE:

In yourself: ..Sometimes

Love at first sight: No

Heaven: No, though it is a cool thought.

Santa Claus: No

Tagging...yeh, not that many that actually do things, I know the two that tag me all the time already have. Have you done it, @tchrashbagg? @ashe-wottlin?

#tag games #about me #truths

3 notes · View notes

puckish-saint · 7 years

Note

If I may request a simple but fun idea- How do you think the OW crew sing karaoke? Up to you on how to interpret this, either separately with each character or if they had a group afternoon session to chill after a hard mission.

It’s Fareeha who comes up with theidea, when she looks out over the group after the mission, allsitting by themselves except for her and Jesse.

“Not what you imagined?” Jesseasks, following her gaze from underneath his hat. No, she wants tosay, and neither is working with him. As a young girl she beggedGabriel to let her tag along on a mission, she’d have givenanything just to sit in the aircraft on the way there, promised she’dbe quiet as a mouse. In her head it was all one glorious adventure, afellowship like no other forged in the heat of battle. But thesepeople barely know each other and Jesse, who should remember theglory days, doesn’t make any attempt to befriend them. “It’slike this is just another job,” she says and can’t chase thedisappointment from her voice. Working and living first for the armyand then for Helix Security she’s learned that war isn’t all thatthe movies make it out to be, but Overwatch has always stood for morethan that. It used to be full of ideals, of hope for a tomorrow thatis better than today. But even Jesse, who remembers, whowalked among giants the same as she has, takes his paycheck andleaves at the end of each mission.

“What’d you expect? You gottabelieve in the people if you wanna believe in the cause. And thesefolks,” He waves at Symmetra buried in a magazine on sustainablearchitecture, at Lúcio with headphones in his ears napping thestress away, at Hana texting a friend at home, and Mei who’s tooshy to make the first step. “They don’t know each other.”

It’s a well thought out conclusionfor a man wearing chaps but Fareeha has long since stoppedunderestimating Jesse. He watches and smiles and sees that nothingexcept a paycheck ties these people together. And if that’s whathas to change, Fareeha decides, that is what will change.

Most ‘agents’ of Overwatch, and shebarely can call them such in this state of affairs, don’t live atthe watchpoint. They have their own homes and lives to return to, canbarely be bothered to answer their comms when their help is needed.Apart from Winston only Mei, Reinhardt, Brigitte and Hanzo live here,because they have no other place to go or because they used to liveout of a van smelling of currywurst.

She bullies Winston into helping her gothrough a five year old inventory detailing everything Overwatch leftbehind when its people scattered to the winds. Somewhere between 480bathing suits (A box is missing, Fareeha notes, and Winston admits heneeded them for a project. She decides it’s wisest not to ask.) andan old maypole used for Overwatch’s last cultural festival, shefinds what she’s been looking for.

Brigitte helps to set things up, frompicking the lock to the common room the key to which Winston lost atsome point in his exile of half a decade to impromptu repairs on theelectronics. She likes Brigitte. They share a passion for powerarmour engineering, even in the year 2076 a niche profession, andoften spend their free afternoons comparing notes. She was around inthe old days, apprenticed to the Ironclad guild, but never made itinto the inner circle that Fareeha grew into. Now she’s right inthe thick of it, so far undecided if that is a good thing. She hopesthat with this event she’ll sway her to a favourable opinion.

And then, after facing the newOverwatch’s low budget issues and illegally downloading a selectionof titles, it’s finished.

The team bonding machine. Thefriendship device. Humbling the great and empowering the meek.

If the new Overwatch won’t be friendsby themselves, she’ll make them sing karaoke until they are.

The real challenge, it turns out, isgetting everyone to participate. Fareeha’s the first to write inthe Overwatch team chat in several weeks and that too stings withnostalgia, when she remembers the servers in the old days, full ofgroups for every member. She even remembers the language filter hermother got after Jesse joined and how long it took her to get aroundit (three weeks, after which she learned a plethora of new words thathave come in handy since).

Fareeha A.

Keep your schedules free on the 16thnext month.

Lena, predictably is the first toanswer. She may be the only one as attached to Overwatch as Fareehais.

Tracer Big mission???

No, Fareeha writes, but that attendanceis expected and she’s not taking no for an answer. Apart from Lena,only Mei and Winston acknowledge they read her message at all. Shedidn’t expect more, although she’s still disappointed when shechecks her phone again and finds nothing new. She knows for a factTalon has infiltrated this channel and finds little solace in thefact they must be as frustrated with the lack of participation as sheis. It’s time for a more personal approach.

“I think not.” Hanzo says, alreadyregretting leaving the safety of his room for a quick late nightsnack and slowly backing away through the door. Fareeha has beenlurking in the kitchen for hours waiting for him to emerge. She’snot about to let him off the hook.

“To bond as a team, the whole teammust be present.” Fareeha says, following him down the hallway.

“I am not part of any team.”

“You’re not making any effort tochange that.”“I don’t want to change that,” Hanzo stopsin front of his room, fishing for his access card. “My purpose isto find redemption, not to engage in frivolities with a band ofstrangers. Good night.”He slams the door shut, but if he thinkshe can get away that easy he doesn’t know what she’s prepared todo to complete her mission.

“If you don’t agree I’ll tellGenji you’re giving away the Nepali sweets he makes for you.” sheshouts against the closed door.

He has it open in record time.

“You wouldn’t dare.” he says butthere’s clearly no decency in a woman blackmailing him at two inthe morning. In response she takes out her phone and makes a show ofselecting Genji’s number from her list of contacts.

“Dear Genji,” she says aloudas she types the words. “I thought you might like to know thatyour brother gives away the anarsaa you put so much effort intomaking to anyone who can stomach being complicit in such acold-hearted, cruel-”“Fine, fine! I will attend yoursilly function.” Fareeha grins and puts away the phone.

“16th of next month, 6pm, the commonroom on the third floor. Snacks and drinks are available. Dresscasually.”

The next on her list is easierpersuaded.

“Of course I will come!” Reinhardtsays and promptly provides her with an exhaustive list of titles he’dlike to sing. Fareeha, loving the man like her own grandfather butknowing his taste in music, filters out the more unbearable songs sheoccasionally hears him belt under the shower. While she updates thekaraoke library and soothes her guilty conscience by telling herselfmost of the artists on Reinhardt’s list have been dead close to ahundred years and won’t mind missing a few dollars, she gets answerto a message she sent days ago.

Karaoke???? The text only reads,but it’s to be expected. The sender did so ‘from my MEKA／(˃ᆺ˂)＼'and the location puts her somewhere in Australia, undoubtedly in themech fighting domes in and around Junkertown. This is where D.Vaspends her free time when she’s not training for tournaments orwith her MEKA strike team. Through the attention she gets wherevershe goes Junkertown has received an influx of aid, from treatment forradiation sickness to basic goods like water and food. Fareeharealises more than ever that for many of Overwatch’s new recruitsthe organisation isn’t and never will be their only option to causereal change. As much as she wished it were otherwise for people likeD.Va Overwatch is a side job.

Yes, karaoke, Fareeha writes andlaunches into her pre-written speech, our conflict with Talonstretches the limits of our abilities. In order to use thoseabilities most effectively we need to build a strong unit cohesion-

While she’s still writing D.Va’snext message comes in.

When’s the party?

She’s so surprised she only deleteshalf of what she’s written in her haste to answer.

… abilities in order to usethoseyou’re saying yes?

A shrugging emoji is all she gets forhalf an hour while D.Va launches into another battle against a Junkerbuilt mech she decimates with a lot of flashy and unnecessary move.Although, Fareeha supposes as she watches the livestream, they arenecessary to rake in as many donations as possible. It’s a battletactic, even if the battle is fought in people's minds.

As the fight ends Fareeha can see Hanatexting without looking while she and her mech bow to the audience.

I make my guys do stuff like thatall the time in the MEKA program. New guys always complaining but inthe end they love it. I’ll be there

With six definite okays under her beltFareeha gets a little too optimistic. When she calls Torbjörn sheexpects him to be enthusiastic like Reinhardt and forgets for acrucial moment that he left Overwatch of his own volition.

“No,” he says and just like thather mood shatters. “You’re a good kid, but there’s nothinggetting me back in that boat.”“But ... “

Children arguing in the backgroundbriefly distract Torbjörn who deals out a few choice words inSwedish. He may have been reprimanding them, may have told them ajoke. She can never tell. While her German is passable and herSpanish approaches fluency, her Swedish has always been spotty. Theonly word she knows by heart is godis, because her seven yearold self made sure to learn to ask for sweets in every languagespoken on base.

When Torbjörn returns to the phone shehears in his voice that to him the conversation is already over.Still she owes it to herself to try.

“Reinhardt has been asking if you’llcome. He’d be happy to see you again.”

“Sentimental old lug. You can tellhim I’ll drop by sometime to deliver the new security systemWinston asked for. But don’t expect me to play babysitter for thatmovie night or whatever it is you’re planning.”“Karaoke.”“Yes,that. Too many new influences aren’t good for a man my age, child.Besides, I’m busy with a new project. Well, technically she’s anold project, but either way I can’t leave even if I wanted to. Theymight scrap the poor thing after all.”

He makes up this project purely to endthe discussion, evidenced by his ridiculous excuse that his ‘project’has followed a squirrel up a tree and can’t get down, to end thephone call. Fareeha indulges him, because she respects Torbjörn’sdecision and also because she doesn’t have anything with which toblackmail him. Win some, lose some, and with that mindset she moveson to the next on her list.

“I have sensitive ears.” is Lúcio’shalf-cooked explanation why he really can’t join the team forkaraoke night.

“Suck it up, choir boy, you’recoming.” Fareeha pokes the screen and Lúcio, several thousandmiles away, actually flinches back. It’s no secret she can beintimidating and she milks it for all its worth. If it gets everyonein the same room on karaoke night she will not hesitate to bully themthere.

“Even if I wanted to, I can’t. I’mbusy,” he tries again and lists all the pressing matters he has toattend to. “There’s the tour, and my manager is riding my assabout the new album, I’m so far behind and I need every second tocatch up. Then there is the peace march in Timor Leste, and the RoundSquare conference in the Netherlands. I’m a guest speaker for thegraduating class at the UFRJ and I haven’t even startedwriting that speech-”“You’re free on the 16th.” Fareehainterrupts because it doesn’t look like he’ll be done anytimesoon.

“You have no way of knowing that.”he says, but a hint of uncertainty steals into his voice. She savoursthe moment, lets it breathe like fine wine until she delivers thekilling blow.

“I do, because I talked to your agentand she promised to keep your schedule free.”

His look of betrayal is nothing shortof hilarious.

“You talked to my agent?Behind my back!”

But as much as he grouses andcomplains, the deal has been sealed.

Genji and Zenyatta are in the middle ofa strike to better working conditions for omnics when Fareeha stalksup to them, jet-lagged and wanting nothing more than a hot shower andthree days of uninterrupted sleep. For almost two weeks she’s donenothing but run after every wayward child of the once again fledglingOverwatch and at this point she’ll just be glad when this madnessis over.

“It sounds like a lovely occasion,”Zenyatta says and it might just be her imagination but she swearshe’s subtly trying to push her forward and in front of the cameras.A respected member of the human community seen at a pro-omnic eventwould do them some good. Helix Security doesn’t like their peoplemaking political statements but if it helps karaoke night she’llgive the cameras her best angles. “But I’m afraid I can not joinyou. More pressing matters demand my attention and our work onhuman-omnic relations must not be interrupted.”

She counted on something like this.From what she hears on the news, the people Zenyatta supports areclose to a breakthrough. But she gets a promise out of him to make anappearance the next time she plans something like this and Genji,acting as a silent shadow to Zenyatta, doesn’t need much to bepersuaded to join.

“I always refused partaking in theseevents before,” he says, “and always regretted it. It will be mypleasure to be there.”

Symmetra is less than enthusiasticabout the prospect of spending several hours in the company of peopleshe barely knows and, in some cases, actively dislikes. She switchesbetween talking to Fareeha and guiding her team of architechs ontheir latest project, a vertical farm in the outskirts of Ecatepec.After their recent loss in Brazil Vishkar has directed its attentionto the war torn North and Central America. Fareeha is no stranger tothe places outside Native territory in desperate need of food tosurvive. Surprisingly Symmetra doesn’t argue her lack of time toget out of this endeavour.

“I do not want to,” she simplysays, followed by something shouted in Telugu sounding suspiciouslylike a curse. “Overwatch’s ideals are commendable, but I do notfavour the kind of people it attracts. I will not associate withthem.”

“You like Winston.” Fareeha pointsout, but the truth is, even if she spares some passing sympathy for afellow scientist, Symmetra has no reason and less motivation to makefriends with people who are fundamentally different from her. Theonly person she regularly talks to before and after missions is Lúciobut not in the manner Fareeha tries to encourage with karaoke.

But it gives her an idea.

“No, you know what? I understand,”she says and notes Symmetra’s surprise at her seemingly easyvictory. “Lúcio didn’t like the idea either. He said it’s awaste of time and that he’s much too busy to do some sillyteam-bonding.”

She watches out of the corner of hereyes and counts the seconds. Symmetra can resist the urge to gossipabout Lúcio half a minute.

“Yet more proof how little thisstreet ruffian knows of the world. A strong team can tip any battlein their favour, it is a well known fact.”

“That’s what I told him!” In theback of her mind some mean part of Fareeha rubs its tiny handstogether in manipulative glee. She’ll show them to deny her karaokenight, she’ll show them all. “But he was all like ‘it’s notgoing to work, no one will show up’. I hate to think he may beright-”“He is not.” Symmetra interrupts and looks outacross her half-finished project like a benevolent mother about toleave her children alone for the first time. “I will attend yourfunction and ensure its success. We must not let fools thinkthemselves superior.”

And indeed, they mustn’t.

After her resounding victory withSymmetra, she doesn’t take it too hard when Zarya provides a goodreason not to come, what with the impending doom of her country and awar tipped in the omnics' favour. One more name gets crossed off, butthe next one isn’t as cut and dry.

She sits in her quarters on thewatchpoint, this small place feeling more like home than herapartment in Egypt ever did, and hovers over her mother’s contactin her phone. They talked before, in the days and weeks following herreturn from the dead, but most of these talks have turned intoarguments or cold silence. How could you do this to your owndaughter, Fareeha has asked but every answer her mother gavesounded just as hollow as the condolences she received after herdeath.

Should she invite her? Try and mend thebroken bond between them if she can barely look her in the eye? Evenher father isn’t at that point yet. They have both grieved for hermother, have tried to move on with their lives as best they could.Fareeha remembers waking up in the middle of the night to her fathercrying, trying to stay silent, to appear strong in front of hisdaughter, but breaking down little by little at the loss of the womanhe loved more than life itself.

Fareeha crosses her name off the listwithout calling. Not now. Maybe never.

But her foray into the past has givenher another name to fall back on. Jack’s long suffering sigh whenhe picks up the phone tells her he has heard of her crusade.

“Reinhardt told me,” he answers herunspoken question. “And I appreciate what you’re trying to do,god knows this lot can improve on their teamwork, but leave me out ofit.”

Back in the old days Jack would havebeen the first to agree. More, he would have helped her organise thewhole thing and made homemade snacks to go along. This more thananything drives home just how much has changed, how little of the oldguard remains even when they have returned to join the fight.

“You’re just as much part of thisas anyone else,” she insists. “You came back for a reason, Jack.Some part of you believes in what Overwatch can be. Don’t be astranger.”

But his answer stays the same. He sayshe can’t and that he shouldn’t. Says he’s too old to make newfriends, too bitter to offer anything of value. She leaves him withthe date and the place, urges him to at least consider it. Hepromises but she can’t help feeling he does so only to do her afavour and that he will put it out of his mind the moment she hangsup.

Three days before the grand event, theculmination of all her hard work to get a dozen people who barelyknow each other in the same room to sing awkward songs, Jesse strollsinto the watchpoint, a bag of dirty laundry over his shoulder andbounty hunters on his tail. He drifts, even though Winston hasoffered him permanent residence on the watchpoint, claims he’s afree soul who can’t be tied down by obligations. Fareeha knowsbetter. He’s not so different from Jack in that regard.

“Heard about your plans,” he sayswhile they solve crosswords in the laundry room waiting for thewashing to be done. “Mighty ambitious of ya, gettin’ everyone toplay along.”

“I didn’t get everyone.”

“Yeah,” Jesse pretends to beutterly oblivious to her tone, ponders another word for ‘failing toseize an opportunity’. “Torbjörn was never hot on singing, don’tget caught up over it.”“Jesse ... “

He puts the crossword aside, looks ather with his big brown eyes.

“Y’know I don’t like imposing.”And then he does that thing where he reaches behind his ear for acigarillo he stopped carrying there years ago. It’s the sameaborted motion he made everytime he was afraid he messed up,everytime someone reminded him of the gang he left behind. Everytimehe felt like before the end of the conversation someone, evenhimself, would tell him he didn’t truly belong. It’s his safetyblanket, the sharp smoke of home grown tobacco, the flick of alighter, something to steady his hands and keep him grounded.

She takes his hands in hers when hedoesn’t find the cigarillo.

“You can’t impose on your ownhome,” she says and continues before he can argue. “This is whereyou belong, you’re like a brother to me and I shouldn’t even haveto ask you to come. If Overwatch is ever going to take off again, weneed you. You can make people come out of their shell, you can makethem talk. Without you Genji would still be sulking in the clinic,Lena would never have asked Emily out, Jack would still-”Jesselaughs, holds up his hands in defense.

“All right, shortstuff, I get it. IfI’m the only one who can save this motley crew, you got my support.No need for a speech.”

But Fareeha knows it did him good tohear it.

And then the big day is there. After amonth of careful planning, of using everything from emotionalmanipulation to outright blackmail to get people to attend, it feelslike much more than a simple get-together. She puts Reinhardt andBrigitte in charge of snacks and they have the good sense to returnwith the van filled to the brim. The booze she bought days ago andretrieves it from its various hiding places, still finding thatsomeone found and raided at least one of her stashes. BetweenReinhardt, who thinks foreign beer counts as soda, and Hanzo, whodrinks to forget the fact he’s drinking, there are a few likelyculprits. Just today, though, there won’t be any reprimands.There’ll be enough tension to dissolve as it is.

As if on cue she hears the aircraftland, the pleasing hum of Vishkar’s jets and Symmetra disembarks infront of Lúcio, Lena and Emily who play an impromptu hockey game inthe hangar bay.

“Glad you could make it!” Fareehasays before the cold glares exchanged between Lúcio and Symmetra canturn the game into ice hockey.

“Of course,” Symmetra says as shefloats past like she’s on the red carpet, rather than an oversizedgarage smelling perpetually of cold pizza and engine grease. “Iwould not miss such an important team-building event.”

Lúcio misses the glance she throws himand Fareeha sends a prayer up in thanks. While she shows Symmetraaround the base, barely believing she’s run half a dozen missionsfor Overwatch and never seen it, the other guests trickle in. Theypass the gardens and listen to Hanzo assure Genji he loved his latestbatch of sweets. Fareeha winks at Hanzo and gestures with her fingeracross her lips, vowing she’ll keep them closed. But other than thebrothers the people she invited are spread out, barely talking to oneanother. It’s time to get this show on the road.

“All right, who wants to go first?”Fareeha asks with fake cheer at the not exactly overwhelmingenthusiasm. Even Hana, who assured her she knows how important it isthis evening goes well, pops some bubble gum and stays on her phone.Lena saves her life.

“Emi and I will!”

Emily looks like she doesn’tappreciate being volunteered but would do just about anything tosupport her girlfriend. Even singing a cheesy pop song in front ofstrangers with varying levels of deathglares.

The lyrics are simple, and theirenthusiasm infectious. Lena serenades Emily offkey on her knees, sorife with theatrics even Hanzo is seen hiding a smile.

Fareeha goes up next and watches, asshe sings a soulful ballad, her guests begin to relax and mingle.Lúcio, Reinhardt and Emily chat about the ideal ratio of dip todorito, Hana shows Genji something on her phone that makes them bothlaugh, and Jesse has taken on his assigned role as oyster shucker andworks to get Mei out of her shell.

After the last chords of her song fadeout she hands the microphone to Winston, knowing he’ll be toostartled to decline and too polite to pass it off to someone elseonce he’s taken it. He chooses a song rife with science puns lessthan a handful understands, but the refrain makes Mei laugh so hardsoda comes out of her nose. Fareeha jumps to her aid and whileWinston still apologises for a mishap he’s only indirectly to blamefor, she has promised Mei she’ll go up on stage with her if shewants to sing. Together they sing the lines to a tune from a Disneyfilm it turns out everyone remembers fondly. A few even sing alongfrom their seats and applaud heartily when Mei gives a shy bow afterher performance.

At some point between Reinhardt beltingModern Talking’s Sexy Sexy Lover, a song rightfully committed toobscurity a hundred years ago, trying to convince everyone to join inand not letting it curb his enthusiasm when they don’t, and Genjiand Hana laughing more than singing through the main theme of theirfavourite video game, Fareeha slips out to get more snacks and findsmost everyone has found their own little group to engage in. Peoplewho before couldn’t be bothered to exchange two words are nowinvolved in deep discussion if you really can’t love a memory.

She’s still swaying along toReinhardt’s song, mentally congratulating herself on how well thisevening is turning out even if it comes at the cost of havingterrible songs stuck in her head, that she doesn’t notice Jackuntil she runs straight into him.

“Jack!”

“Careful!”

Between them they save the tray ofempty bottles, juggling each toppling piece until they’re all inone way or another deposited on the kitchen table. He plays with abottle cap, places it on the table, then picks it up again to traceits edges, while Fareeha can only stare. Him showing up is almostmore surprising than when he returned from the dead.

“You, uh, said I should think aboutit and ... “he trails off and while she’s dying to know what madehim reconsider after all she doesn’t press. Instead she pulls twomore bottles of alcohol out of the pantry and pushes them into hishands, arming herself with a load of snacks. Brigitte and Reinhardtbought enough to feed an army and it may not be enough.

“They’ll be happy to see you,”Fareeha says in lieu of a grand speech of family and homecoming. “Andyou better think about what song you’re going to sing.”

“I’m not going to-”“Everyonesings.”

The truth of that becomes evident whenthey return to a friendly argument centering around Hanzo.

“I will not sing.” he maintains.“No one said participation was required.”“It’s karaoke,brother.” Genji says and though most of the group have only thebest intentions, trying to include Hanzo in this setting, it’sclear that he only seeks to make a public embarrassment of hisbrother.

“I am well aware of what it is and mypoint stands. I will not sing.”

Jack can slip in almost unnoticed whilethe attention lies on Hanzo’s steadfast refusal to stretch hisvocal chords. Only Jesse gives him a two-fingered salute beforeturning his attention back to the matter at hand.

“Give it a go, darlin’, we promisewe won’t laugh.”

“Do not call me that,” Hanzo snaps.“And I would like to remind you that you also have not sung.”

Fareeha intervenes before the argumentcan get serious. She leans on the backrest of the couch behind Hanzoand says, so low only he can understand her: “Sing or I may getbored and decide to talk to your brother for a bit.”

A moment later Hanzo’s on the stage,frowning as he scrolls through the music selection. He choosessomething slow and mournful, a song from a movie Fareeha rememberswatching years ago. Two lines into the song everyone has stoppedtalking. They stare open-mouthed at Hanzo who falters under theattention, but catches himself quickly to continue what just may bethe most beautiful thing Fareeha has ever heard. Genji’s eyestwinkle with joy at his friends’ bemusement. He wasn’t looking toembarrass his brother after all.

While Jesse pretends to die frominstant love Hanzo ends his song with the words “This shouldsuffice.”, steps over the smitten cowboy and returns to his seatlike nothing happened. He will not take any inquiries into hismiraculously beautiful singing voice and hands the mic to Lúcio whoby some miracle has managed to get out of singing without anyonenoticing. He slinks up on stage like a beaten dog and Fareeha swearsshe can hear him praying under his breath. Not without reason as itturns out.

Where Hanzo may have become a musicallegend in another life, Lúcio proves once and for all that justbecause one is a world-famous musician one is not necessarily good atholding a tune.

“Oh God ... “ Hana whispers inabject horror as Lúcio and everyone else in the room suffers throughhis song. Well, almost everyone suffers.

Satya’s shoulders shake but what atfirst look like tears of despair, turns out to be barely containedlaughter. Lúcio glowers at her, clearly intending to speak achallenge once he’s done - if you think you’re so good, do itbetter - but he doesn’t need to. He has barely finished thesong, somehow managing not to hit a single note throughout, when shewalks up, takes the mic out of his hand and picks a song with thecertainty of someone who has calculated exactly where to find it fromthe moment she saw the machine.

No master singer is lost on Satya butcompared to Lúcio, currently licking his wounds and being cheered upby Reinhardt and Emily, she’s more than good enough.

The more extroverted members of thegroup go on stage again and again as the evening draws and andeveryone gets progressively more drunk.

Jesse refuses to sing karaoke but canbe persuaded to sing an old country song by himself, something sweetand full of homesickness that makes everyone rethink their opinion oncountry. Half a bottle of whiskey later he goes up for karaoke afterall and makes everyone re-rethink their opinion on country music.

Genji accompanies his next renditionwith a drunk lapdance for Mei who blushes feverishly red and lookslike she doesn’t know if she should cry or proposition him. Winstonsaves her by dragging her and Satya up on stage to sing the Elementssong together. She stumbles hopelessly over ‘praseodymium’ andSatya somehow manages to passive-aggressively sing the noble gases atLúcio who sticks his tongue out and steals the last cinnamon bunfrom her plate.

Jesse, once sufficiently drunk, canbarely be kept from the stage for a few minutes and proves his skillsof persuasion when Hanzo finds himself by his side, singing a duetfrom a popular musical together.

At some point during the night Brigitteshows up and, drowned out by Reinhardt’s bellowed greetings,apologises for her work keeping her away until now. She’s promptlydragged into a top volume rendition of Night Rocker and can only getaway when Reinhardt catches Lúcio humming along.

It’s long after midnight when thefirst start to drag out the mattresses Fareeha kept ready, and cuddleup there and on the sofas, blankets spread liberally all around.Hanzo tries to excuse himself to his rooms but has his escapethwarted by a seemingly sleeping Jesse holding onto his sleeve. Hesettles down in the small space between him and Emily and Lena,muttering something about not being here to get attached,metaphorically and certainly not literally.

Hana has fallen asleep in her armchairsome few minutes ago, the snack bowl in her lap tilting precariouslytowards the floor where Winston has set up, drifting off to the lowconversations around him.

And then it’s just a handful leftawake, the casual insomniacs drifting into that liminal space duringa sleepover when it all quiets down but the energy of the eveningstill hangs in the air like smoke. Fareeha makes herself comfortablein a nest of blankets between Satya and Genji and looks to Jack whosits at the table an arm’s length away and gives her a tired butsincere smile.

“You haven’t sung yet.” she says,just to acknowledge him, to let him know she watches and notices.He’s not the ghost he fashions himself to be and if the way helooks at her is any indication, he doesn’t want to be anymore.

Mei blinks when he starts to sing, halfasleep and probably thinking she’s dreaming as she snuggles closerto Lúcio who throws an arm around her and pulls her closer.

Jack’s song is one Fareeha has hearda hundred times throughout her life. She doesn’t know its name orwho wrote it, but her earliest memory is of her father and himsinging it to her. Her mother sang it long before, when it turned outit was the only thing getting her to sleep. Reinhardt maintains hewas the one who chose it first but it was Gabriel who sang it best,crooning low and deep to her from the days of her earliest childhoodto the day they all sat at her bedside, her father and surrogatefathers, singing it to chase away the grief of losing her mother.

She falls asleep to it, the songechoing in Overwatch’s halls long after the last note has faded. Itis as it should be and she is at peace.

#overwatch imagines #ovw fanfic #pharah #mccree #hanzo #tracer #and others #participating in the grand old tradition of making a fool of yourself to gain peoples friendship #i didnt use a lot of specific songs #since its the future and they have their own pop icons #but reinhardt being into the futures equivalent of one of us digging bill murray #is canon so of fucking course I used the chance to expose yall #to the worst thing germany every produced musically #youre welcome #Anonymous

46 notes · View notes