Entry tags:
(( i wanna hate so i keep you alive ))
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gimme all your memories, melodies, remedies now 'cause i wanna burn them | ||
once upon a time there was a good man. a hero. constantly looking for the best ways to help people. not necessarily nice, but good. he was pragmatic, clever, a good leader. allowed himself to be entered into an experimental supersoldier program because it was the best way to do what he had to to save lives. when he was given a lateral move from leader to black ops, he understood. politics wasn't his strong suit, he would've been a terrible strike commander. the problem was twofold. being left to his own devices allowed his pragmatism to lean darker and darker. more than once he was pulled up on unsanctioned surveillance, kills, and so on. alongside which, his health was deteriorating. his body was decaying at a rate his enhanced healing would soon struggle to keep up with, and the only person who knew was a geneticist and medic with a casual disregard for ethics and a fondness for... unusual methods. after so many years he was stressed by the demands of his job, the constant constraints imposed by the other half of leadership, and his deteriorating health. he was barely sleeping, becoming more impatient, hearing voices, quicker to take drastic measures. but he wasn't ready yet |
there were still many years left of his formation, but the most critical step came after an incident left main hq in ruins and █████ severely wounded. his medic saved his life with a highly experimental treatment, and it changed him on a fundamental level. no longer was he just a man fighting a degenerative disease, but a ghost. the full stop at the end of all the research and experimentation, he was able to fall away to smoke, to drain the life from others to feed his own. he was horrified, but she seemed... satisfied. not just as a scientist, but as though she'd met her purpose. with his new powers, alongside a skillset developed over a lifetime, he took himself to a new organization, where they gave him the name reaper. originally he believed this was the right move for justice, where he'd be unrestrained by what was acceptable in doing what he had to do. but unfettered, away from the people who knew him best, he was helpless to the darkness brewing in him. or, rather, he slowly gave himself to it willingly. over years he became less and less the man he was, and more the reaper. a myth, a horror story. a nightmare who acted with brutal efficiency and left desiccated corpses in his wake. the whispers encouraged, as did those around him, but he didn't need their praise. as always, he was simply doing what he needed to do. after a successful mission to free their leader from prison, reaper stepped off the transport into a world of dark and cold that felt... familiar. like his own. it welcomed him like proud parents welcoming their child home after many years. catch meat? yeah, sure. he could do that. |
he has his canon overwatch powers i cannot tell you how little i want to sit down and hammer this one out. but he's only allowed to use his shotguns for moris and he's pissy about it. also he didn't come with a realm fuck you |