#all her stationary is pink. she even has a pink clipboard

[fizzytoo]

[botherkupo]

A Lie for a Lie (chapter 17)

Summary:  "Because Chat Noir is dating Marinette." Or in which Lila lies, Adrien panics, and Marinette gets stuck being Chat Noir's fake girlfriend.

FFN, AO3

Chapter 17:  Don't Be Stationary for Stationery

"Took your time," Ladybug says.

Adrien—or Chat Noir, as he appears to her—knocks down the giant wad of post-it notes that just came for his face. He grins, spinning his baton and leaning on it with easy grace. "Sorry. Only just got the memo."

Her lips twitch.

His grin widens, but any follow up puns are ruined as a masked woman riding a flying, motorbike-sized stapler appears and he and Ladybug are forced to avoid an onslaught of very sharp, very fast staples. Ladybug's yoyo flashes into a spinning shield. He grabs her by the waist and launches them both to a safer rooftop.

"Phew," he says, releasing her and seamlessly shifting with her into a run. "That staplermobile is dangerous."

"What's the matter, kitty? Afraid of a few staples."

"I am when they're bigger than my head. Also when they come for my head."

Ladybug tugs him down by his arm so they're both crouching behind a part of the rooftop. "Well, I'm pretty sure the akuma is inside that stapler Inventoria is riding," she says. "We'll have to be careful approaching her. Not only can she attack with rapid-fire staples, but she can turn you into office supplies if she hits you with the glowing, purple staples."

"That would explain the giant pens and folders I passed on my way here."

He sneaks a glance over the side of the building to see Inventoria—sleek in her skin-tight, grey and black suit, but still very visible thanks to her highlighter-pink hair—firing off purple staples at a couple of unfortunate Parisians who had managed to catch her attention. A bottle of ink and some paperclips are soon bouncing around the street.

"This is your last chance, Ladybug and Chat Noir!" Inventoria yells. "Give me your miraculouses or watch as all of Paris becomes part of my inventory!"

Adrien raises his eyebrows. "You know, that staplermobile is breaking some serious occupational safety rules. Not to mention vehicle rules. I bet she doesn't even have a licence for it."

A smile peeps out on Ladybug's lips. "Well then, shall we inform her that her law breaking ways won't be tolerated?"

He grins and gestures for her to go ahead. "After you, m'lady."

Ladybug spins her yoyo into the air. "Lucky charm!"

A clipboard complete with a bulldog clip drops into her hands, but he doesn't bother to question how it can be used to defeat Inventoria. Ladybug will figure it out. She always does. All he has to do is protect her, provide distractions when needed, and be ready to use cataclysm.

Time to inventorise this stationery-obsessed akuma.

oOo

"Glad that's over," Ladybug says.

He bumps fists with her, as is their custom. "A job well done, m'lady. Let's just hope her manager is nicer to her from now on."

"Right. Can't say I really want to fight stationery again."

"That would be difficult. Can't fight when you can't move."

She rolls her eyes and swats him lightly on the chest, but the twinkle in her gaze betrays her. His lips curve. And then freeze. He stares and stares.

"What?" she says, brow furrowing.

"N-nothing."

He shakes his head, trying to regather his thoughts. For a moment all he had seen was Marinette's twinkling eyes, Marinette's threatening-to-sneak-free smile. His insides twist, but he can't place if the sensation is unpleasant or not. It's shifting and confusing, a gossamer thing.

Has his lady's eyes always smiled like that?

Why can't he remember?

Her earrings beep, followed quickly by his ring.

"I guess I should get going," she says.

"Yeah." He swallows thickly. "Me too."

"See you next time, kitty."

He nods and watches her swing away.

oOo

His father is waiting for him at home. Or rather looming at the top of the staircase with a storm-cloud frown. Not a good sign. Did he hear about how distracted Adrien had been during the last photoshoot?

Gabriel walks down the stairs and shoves a clipping from a tabloid magazine into his hands. Adrien's chest tightens and his stomach clenches into knots as he sees it's an article about Marinette supposedly cheating on Chat Noir with him.

"Explain," his father orders.

Adrien wants to sink into the floor. His father has never cared to interrogate him about articles like this before. (He's a famous teen model; of course speculation and sensationalist pieces sometimes get publicised, regardless of how hard Nathalie and his publicity manager work to maintain his perfect image.)

"It's nothing," Adrien says in a small voice. "Just a false rumour."

"You must have been doing something to cause this false rumour."

"I wasn't, Father. Honest. Marinette is just a friend."

His father's stare is cool and sharp. "This isn't the first time you've been involved in a scandal with this Marinette girl."

Adrien's chest tightens even more. All the breath is being squeezed out of him and can't get back in. "Please don't forbid me from seeing her."

"You care for her that much?"

"She's one of my best friends. Of course I care about her."

There is no emotion in his father's eyes. Only ice and steel. Adrien's shoulders creep higher to his ears and he rubs his left arm, tense and wanting to recoil into himself like a snail seeking the safety of its shell. He wishes he could bold, wishes he could say he doesn't care what his father says, because he's going to keep seeing her anyway. But he's scared. Scared it will be one display of unapproved behaviour too many. Scared he'll get pulled out of school and never get to see Marinette or anyone else as himself again.

Being Chat Noir gives him some freedom, but it's not the same as being able to spend time with friends as Adrien Agreste.

"Father, please," he practically whispers. "It was all a misunderstanding. We've done nothing wrong."

Gabriel looks down at him, still no trace of sympathy or warmth. "Very well," he says coolly. "Invite this Marinette of yours to dinner. I shall see for myself whether she is fit to be your friend."

All the breath whooshes back into Adrien's lungs. "Thank you," he says, throwing his arms around his father. "I know you'll like her."

[freshlyjuicedbeetles]

Severus Snape x Reader - Meeting with Umbridge

Modern Setting/ Order of the Phoenix

Established relationship

Female reader

Feel free to make requests and please leave feedback!

The Pink Tyrant had taken over Hogwarts.

Severus came home nearly every day for a year with new drama that Dolores Umbridge, some Ministry bureaucrat turned teacher had stirred up. She had a problem with sticking her nose where it was not wanted or needed. He admitted he was thankful that he no longer lived on campus anymore, thus granting him a reprieve from her antics. First, she completely overhauled the Defense Against the Dark Arts program for the worse, then the Ministry gave her more power to oversee the day to day operations and standards at Hogwarts, reporting back to the Minister. She unfairly limited the student’s activities outside of school, to the point their freedom and rights were being affected. She tried to fire professors she found unfit mainly Dumbledore, but others were in her sights. She even made a scene over firing the Divinations professor in front of the students. A line had been crossed, you don’t allow students to see that. Even Severus said it was hard to watch.

Umbridge’s personality was lacking too. She was fake; her fake cheerfulness, her fake attention-getting cough. Everyone wanted her gone. Towards the end of the year, she started meeting with the immediate family of anyone who worked at Hogwarts. She soon called for me.

“She wants to meet you,” Severus said, placing his dark leather satchel on a kitchen chair as he returned home. I gave it to him when we got married. He uses it to shuffle student work and his grade book to and from Hogwarts.

“Who? The cat lady?” I asked.

Severus’ eyebrow quirked, “That’s one descriptor. I had a few others in mind. She wants to have tea.”

“Tea?” I repeated, “What? So, she can poison me?”

“I wouldn’t drink it,” Severus said plainly.

From his satchel, Severus pulled a bright pink envelope. He held it as though it would burn him as he handed it to me. It was a formal invitation on personalized pink stationary, the paper was even perfumed with a sickly-sweet smell that made me cough.

“Well, I guess it’s my turn.”

~

I was nervous to meet this woman. I didn’t know what she’d say to me and I didn’t expect this meeting to be pleasant given everything I had heard.  I put extra effort into my appearance, not just to look nice and professional, but I didn’t want to give her anything to use against me if she went low. I made sure my clothes were crisp, my hair was in place and checked my teeth several times before I apparated to Hogwarts.

The school was quiet for once. It was during class hours, but even then, Hogwarts still had an element of life before. Then, I saw the Educational Decrees haphazardly hung on the stone wall of the Entrance Hall. The amount coupled with no doubt Filch’s less than superb handiwork left me speechless. Did I really have to meet with this person?

The few students I saw in the hallways looked beaten into submission. They hung their heads, just trying to make it through the day. Their uniforms were immaculate, well past even military standards. Dumbledore never truly enforced the dress code.

I made my way to her office from memory. I took a breath before I knocked on the door. It opened on its own after a moment.

I was assaulted with a pink saturated room, the sound of meowing kittens and the overbearing smell of floral in the air. Everything was so over the top, I had to wonder if she genuinely enjoyed these things or if she was trying to make herself seem comforting and feminine while completely overdoing it. It was so overdone, it was creepy. The dozens of little kitten eyes staring at you didn’t help the aura, either.

“Ah, Mrs. Snape.” Umbridge stood as I entered.

‘Merlin, she really does look like a toad.’ I thought.

“Hello,” I replied, cordially. I tried to remain neutral about this woman until I met her. I knew that everything I had heard about Dolores Umbridge was shaded by anecdote from Severus, who can let his own biases get in the way. I was willing to hear what she had to say. There were some alarming changes she made, but I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Being a teacher was hard even when you had the proper education and experience, unlike in her case.

“Sit, sit, sit,” She fussed like a kindly grandmother, ready to plump up her grandchildren with sweets, ushering me into a pink upholstered chair in front of her desk.

“How do you take your tea, dear?”

“One sugar, please,” I requested.

The tea poured itself into two pale pink teacups and with a minor flick of her wand, the sugar was added. Even the sugar cubes were died pink.

“Why I must say, you’re actually quite pretty.” She said as she sat down with her tea.  “I’m not quite sure who or what to expect,” She giggled at herself. The sound was like glass breaking. I repressed a grimace.

I wasn’t sure who she was backhandedly complimenting (insulting?), me or Severus.

“I’m a bit confused as to why I’m here. I’m not a teacher…” I said. “You’ve been calling on other spouses and family?”

“I just want to get to know my subordinates, that’s all.” She replied with a smile. From her desk, she produced a pink clipboard and parchment and daintily, dabbed her pink quill in ink.

“Am I a subordinate or is Severus?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

She said nothing and scribbled in her notes. I felt like I, and thus, Severus was about to be analyzed.

“How long have you two been married?” Umbridge asked.

“Ten years in April,” I answered.

“And how did you meet?”

“As students here at Hogwarts. We dated briefly in our seventh year but broke up just before graduation.”

“And why is that?”

Umbridge was already poking too far but backing down would show weakness. I settled for a half-truth.

“We were kids, we drifted apart.” I shrugged. In truth, I couldn’t follow him down the dark path he was about to travel.

“This all about sizing up Severus and the rest of the staff isn’t? Like how orphanages do home visits to see what kind of environment they’re potentially sending a kid to. You don’t want your staff around any unsavory kind, do you? Well, here are some things about Severus Snape. He likes cold and dark places, he’s read every book imaginable and can’t rid of any. He has an irrational fear of elephants and he just can’t function if he doesn’t have his favorite quill and ink; Martin’s Quill in style 388, standard nib and Waterman’s ink in 00, Blackest Black, 25, red for grading.” I ranted. I knew how private Severus was and I didn’t like people trying to take that from him.

I expected reproach for my tone.  Umbridge only gave a small, saccharine giggle, “Well, we all have our eccentricities!”

She took a sip of tea. “What is your blood status?”

I was taken aback, about how bluntly she asked that. Kids were more open about their blood status, but not mine and Severus’ generation. “Half-blood. About 53% magic quantum if you want to be specific.”

“And your House?”

“Slytherin.”

“Do you interact with muggles?”

“I know a couple.”

“Oh, you know a couple? How many?”

“Two, I guess.”

“How well?”

“Well enough that I spend a fair amount of time with them.”

“And how did you meet?”

“We grew up together in the same neighborhood and went to the same muggle school before I came to Hogwarts.”

“And do you engage in Muggle activity?”

I scoffed, “What’s muggle activity? Basic home utilities? The internet? Cell phones? Yes, I do. You do realize that we’re no different from Muggles, that we’re all humans, right?” I asked seriously.

Umbridge grimaced as she recorded her notes. She was trying to see how Muggle I was and how my Muggle dealings could affect Severus and in turn, the school which ultimately affected her.

“Look, before you cast your ire at me, remember that Severus was raised by a Muggle, too. I’ve read the rankings of Hogwarts. You have one master level teacher in this school and that’s him. Do you have any idea how hard those are to come by? How long he had to study? There’s only one other school that has a master level teacher and it’s in India somewhere. Parents want their children to be taught by master level teachers and Dumbledore. Now that he’s gone and if you cast Severus off because of your bias against my answers, Hogwarts will crumble. I love this school, but it can’t get by on reputation alone.

“Not only that but can you keep up with the traditions? Do you know where the school gets it’s Christmas and Halloween decorations? Did you know that each staff member has their own ornament on the Christmas tree? How are you going to manage Hell Week; the last week of school when the seventh years go nuts? What about Dumbledore’s tradition of letting everyone off on the first warm day of Spring?”

Umbridge sat quietly, listening to me with a smirk on her face. “Adorable,” She replied, as she slashed a check mark on her paper. “Unfortunately, Albus Dumbledore is mentally unstable.”

“Oh, he is not,” I groaned, “I’ll admit, he’s not perfect and I have my problems with him, too, but he’s wise, intelligent and he’s good with the kids. I don’t see anything wrong with him as Headmaster. And hey, I wasn’t the one who gave him the ghost peppers and illegal fireworks.” I replied, a bit defensively about the last part.

Umbridge jotted down a note on her parchment. “I see this is a controversial topic, let’s move on.”

“His parents, what are they like?”

“Severus’? Ask him.” I wasn’t going to tell her Severus’ and Eileen’s story of abuse at the hands of Tobias; how Tobias died of an aneurysm in his sleep when Severus was seventeen and Eileen hung herself in a dank mental ward a year later.

Umbridge was getting annoyed but tried to hide it.

“Do you and Snape plan on having children?”

“Who says we don’t have any already?” I countered.

I saw her grip on her quill tighten, but she relaxed, calming herself. “Since I see no other Snape on my rolls. I would assume any children you may have are young. Would they attend Hogwarts?”

“Honestly, no.”

“And why is that?”

“I don’t like your teaching methods,” I replied simply. “Even Muggles know that practicum experience is a better method than pure theory. I also don’t like how you made this grand institution into your personal prison. You have the Malfoy boy running around, essentially unlimited, turning in kids because they looked at him wrong. He’s one the last students around here that should be given any power. I wouldn’t trust him with a paperclip. You would know that if you paid attention.”

I leaned forward. Umbridge started to fume, her pink painted lips disappearing until a tight line. She didn’t like being questioned.

“Let me ask you about your qualifications to teach. Do you have any? I didn’t think sitting on Wizengamot was enough, personally, but hey, I could be wrong. Severus fell ass first into this job, but you can read his file and see that he all the certifications he is regulated by law to have for teaching. I’m sure the Prime Minister would be interested to hear that students aren’t getting the proper education due to an underqualified teacher. We may be separate from the Muggle British government, but we’re still ruled by the Queen. Same laws and such right? I bet even Fudge may be impeached for misusing his power.”

Umbridge shot up, frowning, her face beet red.

“You are a very rude woman, Mrs. Snape.”

I took this as my chance to leave and stood up, but not without the final word. “Yeah, well, I married Severus, didn’t I? What? Did you think I’d be a princess?”

I turned around just as I passed the threshold, “Oh, in case no one told you. This school has a way of spitting out those it doesn’t like. Ever wonder why the Defense post is always open?”

Umbridge sputtered, trying to ask what I meant, but I had already apparated home.

[creativespecialism]

Film Language: The Use Of Colour In Heathers

, If you haven’t already had a chance to watch Heathers I highly recommend it. It is the unequivocal proof that colour matters.

I first watched Heathers a couple of weeks ago and Instantly became aware and enamoured with how Michael Lehmann used colour in his film. 

For this blog post I will only be focusing on the film and not the musical. And only be analysing the colour, otherwise we’d be here forever.

SPOILERS AHEAD

First it would be good to have a basic summary of the film.

We follow Veronica who is part of the most popular clique in school, even though she disapproves of the Heathers’ actions. When Veronica and her new boyfriend confront the clique leader, Heather Chandler, and accidentally poison her, they make it seem as though it’s a suicide. 

Arguably the most important colour in the film is the colour red. Each character has an assigned colour Veronica is Blue, Heather Duke is green, Heather McNamara is yellow and Heather Chandler is red. 

In film and art in general the colour red is used to symbolise lust, passion, war and blood. The film uses it for all these reasons and giving it to Chandler as her signature colour is entirely intentional and a perfect fit for her character  because above all other meanings, her colour gives her power. Heather’s red scrunchie is the symbol of power throughout the film and it shows the other characters that she is the leader because she wears it, like  a crown. This is reinforced by the opening sequence and title card.

The title itself is backed by and the shot is a close up. the title draws your eye to the scrunchie which tells us that it’s important. And by wearing red in other elements of her clothing, Heather Chandler solidifies this power. 

the other colours are left to the other girls. Heather Duke is the only Heather who isn’t assigned a primary colour, green, this Isolates her from the group slightly and eludes to the disdain that Chandler feels toward her and how she favours Veronica who wears blue. It can also be said that this is used to represent Duke’s jealousy towards Chandler as green can be a colour of envy and based on later events of this film we can say that this is a fair assumption.

In this shot she is even shown to be standing behind Chandler and McNamara showing the inner hierarchy of this clique that otherwise seems tight-knit to the outside eye. Here Duke is seen to be more of an outcast than Veronica naturally is and when playing this opening game of croquet Heather Chandler reminds them “I’m always red” This also reminds us of it’s significance with Chandler’s character and the role that she plays. 

The colour red is seen within Chandler’s locker, in the stationary she uses, in her house as well as outside it. 

The colour red also leaks into the the wider world of the other characters. Red is the school, Westerburg high’s , signature colour, shown in the jackets that the jocks, Kurt and Ram wear and in the inserts of the cheerleaders’ skirts. 

Even the straws the students use are red, the principal is always wearing a red tie and red flowers are featured throughout. The three Heathers walk over a bed of red roses in the opening sequence which in my opinion is slight foreshadowing. By using red in all aspects of the film, we see the power that Heather Chandler has over the school and later, after death, and through the media, the larger world around her.

going back to Heather Duke for a moment. After Heather Chandlers framed suicide Duke steps up and takes the scrunchy to wear herself. 

Heather duke is now the head of the group. At first she dons the bow as a mere accessory to her normal green ensemble. Later she wears a red belt as she starts a game of croquet with Veronica and echoes Chandlers “I’m red” quote.

Duke pretty quickly evolves into fully embracing the red look  

By wearing Heather Chandlers colour Heather Duke adopts her bitchyness and general attitude as oppose to the mousey demeanour she had before.

When Veronica is alone there is little of any colour other than blue and any Veronica-heavy scene always has unnatural blue lighting 

This shows that when Veronica is alone she is completely at one and is herself in her own space. The blue objects on the desk and the lighting reflects this. Even when JD is in the picture there is blue lighting, showing that JD and Veronica are kindred spirits, an explanation to why she was drawn to him.

This is also taken advantage of in the promotional poster

JD is wearing a blue tartan shirt to match Veronicas blue skirt and they also match with the black, which is JD’s colour, This shows that they are two sides of the same coin but it’s also a nod to the control that JD has over Veronica.

Although Veronica is allocated the colour blue, she is more often seen to be wearing blacks or greys, only with little hints of blue thorough jewellery or other such accessories and despite the fact that Veronica is a part of the Heathers she definitely isn’t one of them. This is most notably seen in the cafeteria scene. 

This is the first scene we see the Heathers as a group in their entire bitchy glory. while all 4 of the girls are wearing skirt suits, Duke and McNamara play it safe by wearing a suit of similar styles in their respective colour. Chandler and Veronica are less obvious with Chandler Wearing a skirt to match her signature scrunchy and Veronica really sticking out by not really sticking to her colour at all, only wearing a pair of blue tights. This suggests that she’s not herself around the Heathers and is uncertain and unsure of her identity as her clothes are mis-matched. However We know that Heather Chandler, at this point in the film, still has control over Veronica as veronica is clutching Chandler’s clipboard.

On the night of the party Heather Chandler of course opts to dress in a figure hugging red dress with a red lip. Veronica chooses a more subtle blue chest brooch with a figure hugging dress (under Heathers influence no doubt) in her comfort colours of grey and black. She has little flesh on show whereas Chandler has most of it on show.

 During the interaction with JD Veronica is shown to be eating a red twizzler and has red lipstick on.

Suggesting that in order to act sexy and feel confident at a university party, Veronica needs a little bit of Chandlers’ essence.

We then have the verbal fight scene between Veronica and Chandler and the colour of the lighting is really obvious here.

You can see the direct split contrast of the blue and the red. They are literally spelling it out for us and and emphasizing the conflict.

the “suicide” scene is very interesting. When Veronica and JD and Veronica enter Chandlers house they immediately stand out against the white kitchen 

and are therefore portrayed as intruders. Heathers’ nightwear also cannot be ignored. 

This is the outfit she dies is and we can see that she sleeps in her scrunchy. Showing that her power is something she guards and is protective over. The robe it’s self reflects Chandler’s earlier suit jackets but is a softened pink as oppose to red to connote that she is a victim in this scene.

I also think it’s  significant when the above happens. Chandler removes her scrunchy, signalling that she is giving in and relinquishing most of her power.

 Another way that colour plays a significant role is through the liquid that Heather Chandler accidentally drinks and chokes on.

The liquid is blue so it represents Veronica and it stains Chandlers tongue so it also represents veronicas power over her “friend” and the fact that this is not Chandlers’ choice. I say this because later on in the film when Heather McNamara goes to commit suicide the pills are yellow showing that it is her choice and her choice alone since yellow is her signature colour.

She only survives because Veronica saves her.

After Heather Chandlers death we see a change in Veronica. Until this point Veronica only wears accents of blue. The only time we see her embracing it fully is the funeral scene

This is the only time that Veronica is dressed head to toe in blue, at a time when her more comfortable greys and black would be more appropriate. This makes her stick out and makes her change obvious. It’s as though she can now be her full self and is no longer under Heather Chandlers control.

At the end of the film, after JD blows himself up, Veronica goes over to Duke, gives her a kiss and takes the scrunchy  for herself.

Everything about this implies that Veronica is now the queen B. Not only has she managed to overcome the power that JD held over her but she now holds the power in the school.

Overall Heathers is an amazing film that very cleverly uses colour, costume and lighting language. I highly recommend watching it 

[sp00kworm]

Morphine (Oneshot)

Reaper and the Talon squad are a supportive bunch when one of them is injured.

Archive Link

Bullets ricocheted off of the walls under the hail storm of gun fire, pinging along the walls and blasting through plant pots and dustbins. Reaper growled, misting around the corner of a wall in the small reprieve of fire as the goons reloaded and flicked the firing mechanisms of their semi-automatics. The operation was supposed to have been easy. Get in, steal the information about LumériCo's clean energy cores, and get out without being seen. He'd brought Sombra along to help, the hacker useful for getting in and out by getting rid of the fire walls and security system. Cameras, drones and turrets were easily disabled and Reaper had slipped in easily through the air vents, quickly dealing with anyone who strayed in his path before accessing the data and burning it onto a drive.

The mercenary gripped the small, thin drive in his hand and growled as Sombra chattered in his ear, nonchalant despite the situation. She was safely a good mile away from the compound, and guided Reaper to the transport, or into a nice dead end. Glaring at the wall, Reaper hissed into his communicator, shying his mask away from the corner of the wall as bullets sent pieces of bricks flying.

“Sombra! This is a dead end!” Glancing around the corner, he caught sight of riot shields being prepped. Cursing he listened to Sombra's nails tapping against a keyboard, ducking back around the corner, opening his palms to summon two shot guns from his pocket dimension.

“Can you teleport to the top?” Sombra's voice quivered as she swipped through the screens of her computer.

“And make myself a bullet bag? Sure.” He drawled the last word and peered up at the top of the wall. If he went now he'd make it. “Fine.”

Reaper glanced at the top of the wall and focused his powers, opening the portal on the flat top of the wall. Diving through, the brief silence enclosed his ears, and the swirling darkness of the nether blinded him until he felt his body shift.

“Él es un monstruo!” The guards shifted their focus to the top of the wall and the clicking of the safeties was all Reaper heard, finally coming out of the stationary position he had to use to teleport. Then the gun shots sounded.

Bullets snapped through Reaper's abdomen with ease, cracking against the body armour on their exit. Blood trickled from the wounds and Reaper howled as one connected with his back plates. The electrical currents from the top plate ceased, and he felt his control over his form wane slightly. Smoke oozed from his shoulders and face, pouring out of the mask. As the bullets hailed, he finally regained enough of his sense to partially mist himself. He collapsed towards the ground and grunted, clutching at the bullet wounds dripping blood down his leather outfit. Blood never came out completely.

“Gabe? You alive out there?” Sombra's crackly voice sounded in his ear and Reaper growled, applying pressure to his injuries as he scrambled up, off the floor.

Struggling to breath with his punctured lung, he growled as the healing factor started eating and repairing the damaged flesh of his body, “Just...tell me where to go next...”

“Head towards the side of the church. The pilot has just landed to get you out of there. Gabe...are you...”

Reaper snarled into the communication line, “Bleeding out? Yes I am Sombra.” and clutched his belly once more, slowly making his way towards the whirling noise of the transport engines. The guards that had tailed him were screaming on the other side of the wall, and Reaper snorted as one poked his head over the top. Summoning a shot gun he pulled the trigger and watched with vengeful glee as the man's head exploded backwards towards his posse. The body collapsed against the top of the wall and slumped downwards blood gushing from the remainder of the bottom of the skull. Reaper grumbled and quickly moved on as the men and women began screaming and shouting again, the sound of running footfall evident. The transport was within his sight when the guards appeared at the end of the road. The pilot screamed at him to close the airlock as he finally dragged himself into the cargo hold, bullets whizzing past his head. Grunting, he slumped against the wall and grasped the lever, qucikly pulling it up with the last of his energy. Reaper's sight darkened. He watched the group of guards after him become the size of ants as they flew away from Dorado and eventually, he closed his eyes.

Gasping awake, Reaper instantly recoiled at the harsh white light of the medical bay. As his vision focused, he became aware of the ventilation mask over his face and the glass casing around him. Smoke trickled from his skin and Gabriel gazed up out of the glass enclosure to see two doctors scribbling on clipboards and talking to one another. Trying to move made pain shoot through his legs and stomach, and Gabriel looked down to see the bandages wrapped around his middle. A drip was connected to his arm, and he reached over, plucking it out, much to the distaste of the doctors hovering over the isolation unit they had him in like a coffin. A doctor leaned over and pulled a small radio off a stand before speaking into it.

“Subject thirty one, it would be advised that you leave that isotonic solution alone please. We don't need you collapsing from low blood sugar. We've replaced and altered your back plates, so that might be why you're experiencing some pain at the moment as they stabilise and are incorporated into your spinal cord again. We will release you at the end of the day.” The radio was placed back on the stand, and the doctors moved away together, leaving Reaper in the enclosed bed to struggle through the pain of his nerves knitting themselves to the back plates again.

It was the evening when he was finally escorted to his small room on the other side of the base by two large burly goons. They were not impressed about having to carry the mercenary down the halls, but complied to the doctor's wishes with the threat of having them castrated should 'the subject' come to any harm or further damage. Without an inch of grace, he was unceremoniously laid on his bed and left to his own devices, as the men quickly scuttled away before they could be subjected to any damage that would come from the short tempered mercenary. Reaper growled as his back twitched, the skin raw around the new back plates and tight where his factor had healed the bullet holes. Light coloured scars peppered his abdomen and legs, tight and sore when he moved too quickly. Rubbing at his legs, Gabriel sat up and felt around under his bed for the electric blanket. Finding the soft felt top, he tugged it free and shoved the plug into the outlet before spreading it carefully over the bottom half of his body and stomach. Notching the heat up, he waited for it to soothe the aches and pains. He never even remembered falling asleep.

Groggily, he opened one his eyes when a careful knock sounded on the door. Grumbling, he rolled over and pulled the blanket back over his legs.

“Gabriel. I can 'ear you moving.” Widowmaker tapped her fist on the door again and Gabriel sat up in his bed.

“Its open.”

Widowmaker glided into the room with the grace of an assassin, or dancer, light on her feet, she was quickly by his bed side, offering him a mug, “I made coffee. I thought you might want some after the drama of your last mission.” Gabriel raised an eyebrow and Widow sighed, “Its black, do not worry.” With a small smile, he took the mug in his hands, letting the warm seep through them before he took a sip, grateful for the caffeine. Widow nodded, patting his shoulder before leaving the room, her purple pony tail swinging behind her.

A couple of minutes later, a very boisterous Mexican burst into his room, a plastic bag clutched in her hand. Sombra grinned at him, pink finger nails waving at him in greeting.

“Hey Gabe. I just picked you up some things as an apology for-”

“Sombra. Don't eat yourself up about it. It wasn't your fault.” He placed the empty mug on his night stand and waved her over. “But, I am interested in just what you've got for me.”

Sombra snickered and pulled out a large bar of chocolate, “What do you say we watch some dramas, Gabe?”

“You know more than I'd care for you to. But fine. Lets see if the latest episode is out.” Gabriel plucked the chocolate from Sombra's fingers and pulled out his holopad.