#much less bullet-y and more... [redacted]
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redo-rewind-if ¡ 4 months ago
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what could happen if you manage to get a high enough value with August, cutie author? (*𝗽𝘂𝗽𝗽𝘆 𝗱𝗼𝗴 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀*)
Noooooo, not the puppy dog eyes!!! My only weakness!!! Fine, anon, you win. I'll reveal to you my secrets.
If August likes and respects you enough, you might unlock special dialogue options when you meet him next. Options that could be used to [redacted] or maybe [even more redacted].
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river-bottom-nightmare ¡ 3 years ago
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Nightwing 83 Review
guess who isn't weeks late this time. my opinion of the series is going up a little bit. it's still not great, but i'm not actively put off by it anymore the way i was after 81. not going to tag as spoilers, but be warned that they are under the cut
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i’m sure you all are well aware of this but now, but dear god i love bruno redondo’s art. like, an unhealthy amount. the pink and blue is getting to be a theme with either him or just this run, but i am definitely enjoying it. the movement in this cover is clearly obvious, but well done. you recoznize right off the bat that the cover was drawn to drag your eyes down the page until you get to the bottom, but you enjoy the whole ride there. 
also, redondo’s way of drawing a character in stages of action so we can see just how much they’re doing in a split second of movement is quickly becoming something i like to see drawn with dick, and any other character that has that sort of ease of movement and body sense, like cass or sin or maybe a super. 
and he’s in action the entire time! there’s shot drawn just to show off a shirtless comic book character, the way nightwing is so often subjected to. he’s shirtless because he’s changing his clothes, and that’s all we see, no more and no less. very practical, very well done. i like it.
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he looks so cute right here oh my god. the little squint, the hair curls. it’s adorable.
but also like. unless melinda has specifically outfitted the door spyhole so that the person on the other side can’t see dick looking through it (and in all honesty she might have) then everyone on the other side can see dick looking through that door. 
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bringing your attention back to the “i can’t see melinda’s fbi file oh no!! it’s redacted!! whatever can we do!!” stupidity. redacted files are child’s play for oracle, and definitely doable for both dick and bruce. so that’s bullshit.
now, melinda apparently grew up with the maroni family, then took down part of the family from the inside. the maroni family is a large and notable presence in gotham, one that bruce pays a respectable amount of attention to. he definitely would have grown suspicious when two members of the maroni family were taken down, and with some investigation, he would have discovered melinda’s plan. and it should go without saying that the majority of things you see batman doing? dick can do it too.
it’s not so much that i don’t like how clever the villains/antiheroes are getting. i don’t like how dc heroes are increasingly written as less intelligent. they seem to be relying on pure fighting skills or luck, which may be the case for a couple heroes, but has never been the case for most of dc’s big name heroes, the bat family included. it’s irritating to me to see this sort of stuff pop up as a major plot point when i know that, if dick or bruce had been written with the amount of skill and power that they canonically possess, this entire mess would have been sorted out years ago.
unrelated but dick and melinda have the same hair
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this may just be me, but i was always under the impression that dick doesn’t really have a “double life???”
yes, he’s talented enough to create enough differences between robin/nightwing and dick grayson’s mannerisms, way of movement, voices, and speech patterns so that it’s very difficult to put the two together.
but nightwing has never been separate from dick grayson, not the way bruce and batman is. he’s always leaned more towards clark in that aspect: his hero persona is an exaggerated, stately, larger-than-life version of who he really is. there’s no second persona, no real “dick grayson identity” and “nightwing identity.” they’re the same person with the same goals, ideas, and skills. one just pretends to abide by the law, and one gives up pretense of that.
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oh good thank god. if he’d trusted her right off the bat (hehe. bat.) i would have slapped him upside the head. at least he’s still got instincts.
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gosh the colouring on this is cool. the red has enough purple and pink tones to it that it doesn’t abruptly ruin the tone of the artwork. but it’s definitely glaring enough to take the reader outside of this personal moment they had slipped into between dick and melinda, to put them back in the present where they’re reminded that oh yea there are people hunting dick down. 
the next panel keeps this up too, in a less severe way. melinda’s bodyguard shows up (i forgot her name sorry :[ ) and subtly places us in the middle of an action scene rather than a private, personal scene.
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laughing so fucking hard have our little vigilantes grown so accustomed to breaking into places that it doesn’t even register as a crime anymore??? tim coming in through the fire escape to pick bernard up for their date and being very much confused as to why bernard is freaking out.
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i really like melinda’s shirt and now despite all the work i have to do and the fucking conference i have to host on monday i want to spend hours scrolling through clothing shops online trying to find this shirt. the mock neck/neckline is so cool i want it
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so roland just assumes that a very dangerous vigilante who is highly talented in combat and a very dangerous bodyguard who is also highly talented in combat had a fight that ended with this very dangerous bodyguard being tied up and she looks completely fine? roland just assumes that her having no visible wounds or bruises means that they got into a fight and she lost that easily? uh. aight then
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dick what are you doing. legitimately what the fuck are you doing. why are you posing oh my god. you are injured and tired and in absolutely no position to go hand to hand with one of main enemies. jesus christ run away or head to lower ground or something. don’t just stand around letting the floodlights show exactly where you are.
i don’t understand what he’s trying to do here??? blockbuster fully bought the story that dick fought them both, won, tried to get info out of them and failed, then hightailed it out of there. he didn’t have to draw roland out for a fight.
but it does look cool. the way the light just highlights his silhouette and the blue parts of his costume does look badass. he does get style points in my book for this.
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w h a t  d i d  i  f u c k i n g  t e l l  y o u ,  d i c k ?
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very classic superhero line and it does sound like something dick would say in a fit of righteous rage but also it makes me laugh so hard because all vigilantes think they’re so powerful that the law doesn’t apply to them. dick vigilantism is illegal. you’re acting above the law and pretending it doesn’t apply to you. hypocritical much?
it happens so often in superhero movies, tv shows, comics, whatever and it makes me giggle every damn time.
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pretty decent comeback but before i start seeing people writing blockbuster as a thug i’m going to remind you that he made a deal with a demon for genius level intellect. if this turns into another bane situation i’m going to be a little miffed. he’s a smart man, which makes him a dangerous and infinitely more interesting enemy for nightwing.
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this is so horribly in character i want to scream. (or. at least. it lines up with one of the versions of nightwing i have in my head.) he’s running right towards the bullets, miraculously doesn’t get shot, while making a sort-of pun. i hate this so much. i love him.
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this is cool. this art is really really cool.
he leaped from a building right towards a helicopter that’s actively shooting at him, but none of the bullets are touching him. none of the corruption of the city can touch him no matter how hard it tries, because he’s too good to be corrupted. Comic Book Logic Can Be Good Sometimes Actually.
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batman’s belt what??? swiss army knife who?? sorry, i only know nightwing’s bright blue escrima.
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this is one of my favourite things about heroes with exceptional abilities, even more so if the hero is human. the things they can do are so far beyond the realm of normal human abilities that it’s equal parts terrifying and awe-inspiring every time they act.
he just used modified grappling wires to hook to the door of a moving helicopter, swung around the helicopter safely without hitting the blades, gained exactly the right momentum to swing upward again right through the opening of helicopter, then fought and tied up the men before they had any idea what was happening. that’s near impossible to do.
it’s stuff like this where i just sort of sigh in contentment. no matter how many times they leave out dick’s detective skills or conveniently forget that he’s actually a master planner and team leader and make him out to be this forgetful dude who makes everything up on the fly because of his “circus roots,” at least they won’t ever take away dick’s sheer physical ability honed to perfection. 
the art, too! in a few panels, dick’s drawn a little lightened or blurred. he’s moving so quickly and fighting so efficiently that he can barely be seen by the enemy. he’s got perfect form all the way through.
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and THIS!
there was a helicopter that had five men shooting at him with what looks like machine guns. most people would be dead. some would run away, and be nimble enough to survive without fatal hits. there are very few people, even in fucking comic books, who can look at that hopeless situation and turn it around so quickly and thoroughly that he benefits from it instead.
i just. love nightwing.
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it was funny the first time as a comic reader aware of the meme. it’s really not anymore. why the hell would you, in universe, be wearing a shirt that has a picture of your boyfriend being hit in the face by his father. 
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okay that was funny. 
look at lil bitewing, so concerned for her human!!! love her sm. 
also a question as to the timeline of things. is nightwing happening before or after urban legends? 
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i was so distracted by dick wearing a robe and briefs and nothing else that i didn’t register the second part until later. he slept for two days?? babs, baby, he recently had a very traumatic brain injury. why do you sound so nonchalant?
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@TIM X COFFEE SHIPPERS GET FUCCCCKKKKEEDDDDD
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ngl i totally forgot about that dude oops
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this comic is giving so many reaction pictures. you know how you always use the worst possible picture of your friend for your friend’s contact picture? i’m just getting so many of these.
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leslie!!! the titans!!! lucius!!! dick going to go see old friends!!!! the titans!!! this part made me so irrationally happy it really did. gar being the one to just. offer dick solutions with open arms. this was the best
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i wish i could just copy and paste this entire scene, but that would take up way too much space, so i’m just going to talk about it instead. 
you gave me my name, nightwing, and you gave me some of the best advice i’ve received in my life: beautiful little throwback to nightwing’s origin. you’d be surprised at the amount of people who don’t know where the name came from, or who don’t know how much clark means to dick. and the fact that dick still looks up to clark as a hero, recognizes that clark isn’t always perfect and yet continues to hold him in such high esteem, and still looks back on advice that clark gave him fondly just warmed my heart so much.
for a man who has fearlessly stood up to darkseid, bruce will do a lot to avoid a conversation: “grrr. i’m the BATMAN. i’m so DARK and MYSTERIOUS. nobody knows the true me. no one ever will. i will be LONELY for the rest of my CURSED LIFE. such is the price of a hero. ignore my farmer himbo husband in the background”
but i don’t think there’s anything heroic about being a billionaire: another nod to how much dick follows clark’s example rather than bruce. yes, this was a very poignant and important criticism, and i think it’s wonderful that this was published in a pretty popular comic book. but the thing is, there is a way to be a heroic billionaire, but only in fictional universes. the way bruce, ollie, t’challa only ever use their wealth to help people. they donate massive amounts of money to charities that they themselves create so they know exactly how the money is being used. they hire people who aren’t likely to get jobs anywhere else and pay them much more than what a base living wage is. they use their power to help push progressive laws and social change. they are helping. 
dick doesn’t fully see it that way. he spent more than half his childhood the son of a billionaire, but still believes that one could be more heroic when one doesn’t have obscene amounts of wealth. whose example do you think he followed to come to that conclusion?
superman looked up to alfred pennyworth?: i mean yea alfred may have been a wildly irresponsible guardian and one hell of an enabler but goddamn if he didn’t love his kid.
you don’t need my input. you’ve thought it all through: ooooooh this line made me grin. for so long, dick’s treated clark as a mentor and a guiding figure. he’s still seen as a kid, an up and coming, snot-nosed titan with dreams of a better world. clark still thinks of him as a kid, despite watching him grow up. but this little line was something i think dick needed sorely to hear. he doesn’t need anyone’s guiding hand on his shoulder, he doesn’t need to ask for permission. he doesn’t need clark to support him the way he did when he was a teenager. he’s all grown up now, and he doesn’t need clark’s help. i imagine it was a bit of a surprise for dick to hear that. 
honestly, i couldn’t think of a better role model: ohhh but it doesn’t stop there. clark just straight up turns the tables on dick. imagine you’re dick, and you’ve looked up to this one hero your entire life, and then one day he turns to you and says that he thinks you’re so kind and smart and worthy of a person that he wants you to mentor his son!? goes to show just how much clark trusts dick.
i swear to god dick probably cries every time he hears clark compliment him because bruce is so rare and sparing with his praise that clark giving him the slightest hint of approval is just a dopamine rush.
also, now deathstroke and superman have both asked nightwing to mentor their kids. the juxtaposition is fuckin hysterical. imagine either of their reactions when they realize what kind of company they’re with
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lets talk colours for a second, because i absolutely adore how classic colour tropes have been subverted in this comic, and in this general run really.
warm tones have usually (usually, not always) been associated with light and comfort and friendship and,,,,,well,,,warmth. whereas cool tones are usually used to unsettle, or make a scene seem colder and put the reader on edge. this varies if a comic only uses cool tones, or only uses warm tones, but if a comic uses both, this is generally well-used.
that isn’t the case in this run.
dark red, orange, and other warm tones have been used to symbolize danger, action, attacks. hot pink isn’t usually included in this colour group, but it’s definitely part of it in this case. in contrast, scenes that have cool colours give us the impression of slipping into a comfortable, calm scene with babs, tim, the titans, and other allies. even the beginning scene with superman has this blue, but then it transitions into something more golden coloured. dawn broke over dick, as his new idea came to light, and that was reflected in the art (and the sunrise setting.)
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have there ever been times when dick’s longed for the comfort of his mask because he didn’t feel confident as dick grayson? i can’t think of any. i may be wrong, but this struck me as pretty ooc.
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am i just??? gay and reading this all wrong??
cause i was under the impression that when someone says they are grateful for your friendship you don’t immediately kiss them. 
or is this like. normal straight mating rituals.
i mean he’s smiling afterward but still babs aren’t you supposed to at least make sure it’s okay first? you guys broke up a while back after you said something along the lines of “i want to be coworkers with you and nothing more because i don’t trust you or feel comfortable around you as a civilian anymore.” like lmao after you say something like that to someone i would assume that you don’t have the permission to just kiss them whenever you want.
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show of hands who else got real sad when they realized dick was talking about himself in this.
sure, he could be referencing the things he’s seen blockbuster pull, and the children on the streets. but “i’ve seen money used for enforcement,” sounds a little too close to dick’s entire life being destroyed by one man threatening the circus to pay protection money for me to completely ignore. and “i’ve seen the poorest and most vulnerable blamed and punished rather than assisted” becomes a lot worse when you remember dick was thrown in juvie for a couple months until bruce was able to obtain legal guardianship, and in there, not a authority figure believed him when he told them his parents were murdered.
he’s lived this before.
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a. mother. fucking. typo.
fucking why
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i mean i’ve stated my distaste for the batfamily groupchat before but like. this is reaching new levels of ridiculousness. jason sounds like he was written by a fanfic writer. tim sounds like he was written by a fanfic writer. steph sounds like she was written by someone who doesn’t know the first thing about steph and wanted to include her for “family points!!!!!” damian’s supposed to be completely off the grid, and everyone’s searching for him. i do love the way cass texts tho.
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well god fuck now i’m crying
dick got a phone call, a sorry, and a thank you out of bruce. i feel so much secondhand happiness for him, if that’s a thing. we’ll just ignore the way bruce looks ugly af and focus on the good parts okay?
and again with the colour symbolism here!
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i’m either going to love this or hate this. who knows, we’ll see.
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something something hearts something something pink is an evil colour something something. i need to know more about this guy but there’s definitely symbolism there. 
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is it just me or does this dude look like the backstabbing traitorous absolutely motherfucking piece of shit villain that killed tadashi hamada in big hero 6?
~~
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shame-on-nyall ¡ 7 years ago
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hot milky last chapter pt 1/??
Here is the first part of the “last” chapter of Hot Milky. If all goes well, I will finish Sunday, but if not, I will get close! It’s pretty long and full of excessive drama, so sorry in advance to mobile users and or drama haters.
2,912 words
interlude part 1
interlude part 2
Watching his brother and the Omnic monk depart for their morning meditation, Hanzo slid one hand into his kimono and took out the medicine bottle Genji stashed there, turning it over pensively before locking it away into his weapons case.  It was a miracle that the back alley doctor who supplied him with the pills managed to get the bottle packed into his parcel of clothes just in time to be picked up with the morning mail by Lena.  It was, however, unfortunate that Zenyatta had seen the bottle Genji dropped, but at least there was no lettering on the label to read.  If Angela ever decided to investigate, Hanzo had his story.  Sooner or later, she would, so he must be vigilant and ready to field her questions.
Hanzo glanced at the cooling and surely indigestible breakfast tray Genji and Zenyatta had offered him still teetering on the edge of the table and had to sigh.  Even as he sat down and nibbled at what he assumed was a fat-encapsulated crumble of pork sausage mixed with egg and potato and who knows what else and managed to swallow the lump without gagging, he recalled Genji’s recent haphazard actions that had culminated in this morning’s yogurt incident, his own confused reactions ever since he arrived here.  It had become obvious that Genji was losing what little sense he had left, so caught up with the fact that his brother had actually joined them to pay much attention to reality; namely, the fact that he was a cyborg now, not their father’s favored sparrow any longer. Because of Hanzo’s presence at the base reminding him of his past, because he ended up spoiling Genji anyway despite his best intentions.  It was a sign.  He was not meant to be here among this motley assortment of characters with whom Genji chose to throw in his lot.  He had to leave Overwatch, for everyone’s peace of mind.
In sober thought, Hanzo finished grazing over the contents of the breakfast, sipping some of the cooled barley tea included instead of his usual morning serving of sake.  The prospect of meditating with Genji and Zenyatta did not appeal to him at this time, neither did associating with anyone else on base, regardless if they were happy to see him healthy (or at least his left pectoral) or if they still kept their guard up around him.  Genji’s assurance that the team missed his presence and cared about him despite some initial distrust rang overly optimistic, as hollow as he believed McCree’s infatuation to be.  His younger brother had made mistakes before, Hanzo had years of experience covering for him, but on this matter he really wanted to believe Genji.  Hanzo could not deny that he was just tired of running.  He wanted to belong somewhere and live for a purpose once more.  He needed to be with Genji more than anything.
The only question… did Genji need to be with him?
The peaceful slumber of the night, the sweet fragments of dreams Hanzo chased upon awakening, all of that had cleared like mist under a late summer morning sun.  The freshness of the early hours no longer brought him the same joy as they did in his youth, when he looked forward to completing the tasks of the day.  Now Hanzo associated morning with ever-increasing stress, a cyclical countdown of minutes until the oblivion of either sleep or his next bottle of sake.
Since his mind could give him no comfort, he decided it would be better to keep his body occupied, attempt to keep his archery skills in peak condition so that he could provide defense for his brother and teammates as promised.  (Or to facilitate his escape from Watchpoint if the situation should arise.)  He had missed training all of yesterday after all.  Grimly, Hanzo threw on his newly acquired jacket over his customary gi and hakama, gathered Stormbow and its quiver, and set out for the training area. For a second, Hanzo wondered how McCree was doing, since the two of them had abandoned him there with smashed kneecaps last night, but he figured if anything serious happened to McCree afterwards, Genji would have told him.  Since he was McCree’s friend supposedly and had said he would talk to him… If he remembered, to anyway.  
Well, that was no longer his problem…
A scowl lingering on his face, Hanzo turned the corner past the sliding doors and scaled the wall to the nearest observation tower.  His ears detected conversation in the target range, the bass beat of Lucio’s music, and seeking refuge from unnecessary chatter, he contented himself with silently unleashing arrow after arrow on the moving dummies patrolling the skywalks and stairwells far above.  
At last his curiosity won out, and Hanzo crept to the ledge overlooking one of the target ranges below. McCree was indeed there, unerringly unloading a round of bullets into a group of darting practice droids, only the slightest of stiffness in his steps as evidence of the scuffle last night. There was Lucio gliding across the walls behind the range to the rhythm of his speakers, adding turns and jumps to increase the area he could cover.  Hanzo knew he had sensed a third presence earlier, and soon enough his hearing picked up the dull clang of heavy weights against a sturdy rack, before Zarya herself could be glimpsed leaving the weight room for the showers.
Satisfied with his assessment, Hanzo went back to his own practice, this time with an added twist. Nocking an arrow to Stormbow, he took a breath and released, watching the arrow strike the dummy McCree was aiming at just a fraction of a second before Peacemaker’s bullet hit home. Almost shocked to the point of losing his hat, McCree swore and glanced up around him at the walls and ledges and walkways, trying to pinpoint Hanzo’s location.  Hanzo had of course long vanished from their view.  From on top of a ledge that could only be easily accessed by Fareeha and Genji and the like, Hanzo leaned out and fired through a narrow aperture at the reassembling target droid.
“Dangit, Hanzo, you tryna be faster than a bullet, too?!” McCree called out, disgruntled yet duly impressed. “Genji kept doing stunts like that, near got himself killed a few more times back then!” Jamming his hat back onto his hair, McCree grumbled, “Already got my hands full with the Junkers, I don’t need to be baby-sitting off-the-chain ninjas, too.”
With a snort of amusement, Hanzo quickly dropped to the ground level by McCree’s side.  “I only want to keep my skills intact.  I have no intention of getting injured.”  Not like Genji, it seemed.
“I’ll testify to anyone who asks that you’re as sharp as ever,” McCree told him, holstering his gun.
The cowboy thankfully kept a professional attitude, his usual lovesick pining dialed back quite a bit to Hanzo’s surprise, although not entirely absent.  On the other hand, he thought there may have been another reason for McCree’s change in demeanor.  Hanzo gave him a calculating look, saying matter-of-factly, “Interesting, I notice you are able to walk without the use of crutches today, McCree.”
McCree gave a little heh at that.  “It just so happened Angela and Winston happen to be up and about last night, and the doc got me fixed up in the infirmary right quick.”  No thanks to you two, was the unspoken addition.
“My apologies,” Hanzo murmured in a cool tone.  “I did not mean to have added to the list of the doctor’s responsibilities.  I was later told she had had a busy evening.”
“…And… You’re also sorry to have smashed my kneecaps with my gun that you then stole and left me out in the cold without getting help, ain’tcha, Hanzo?” McCree prompted hopefully, having sworn off pursuing the elder Shimada in a romantic manner but apparently still determined to put him on a pedestal, however shaky.
“Oh, that.”  Hanzo dusted an imaginary speck of dust off his shoulder and said, “You keep mentioning you had been Blackwatch’s finest agent, Reye’s right-hand man.  Since you did not lift a hand against us, I assumed you had everything under control.  Am I not correct, gunslinger?”
Sweating (figurative) bullets at this unflatteringly accurate depiction, McCree tugged the brim of his hat over his eyes.  “We-ell, you two looked like you were having a grand old time, so of course I didn’t want to interrupt,” he replied sheepishly.  “Which I could have, at any moment, if I wanted to.  But just for the future, maybe don’t rough up a fellow so much? None of us are supposed to be in organized crime anymore, in case you forgot.”
“I will see what I can do.”
Lucio had glided over to them at this point, listening to the conversation with an adorably puzzled frown on his face.  “Hey now, this doesn’t add up, why were you smashing McCree’s kneecaps in, Hanzo? I was pretty sure Hana told meeeeee…”
“She told you nothing, because I bought her silence,” Hanzo interrupted abruptly, “so you are pretty sure of nothing.”
“Uhh…” Glancing up at Hanzo’s stormy expression, Lucio nodded, flashing a bright grin.  “Right, so what was I saying again?  Totally can’t remember!”
“Good, let’s keep it that way,” Hanzo muttered, while McCree shook his head and sighed.
“Now, now, we’re all just trying to get to know each other here, become good friends, see, so we can be better teammates and the best heroes Overwatch can ask for,” McCree said loudly to reassure any listeners in the vicinity that no one had slid back into old habits best left redacted in their official files.
“Of course,” Hanzo agreed, in the tone of someone who had never purposefully done anything to become a good friend in his entire life, much less a teammate or hero.  “Which reminds me, Lucio,” he began, returning his attention to someone slightly less irritating, “I had been meaning to thank you earlier for the music player you gifted me the other day.”
“Y-you liked my music?!” Lucio squawked.
Choosing his words carefully, Hanzo said, “The songs I listened to were very… upbeat.  With a… positive atmosphere.”
Lucio seemed equally shocked and delighted by Hanzo’s acknowledgement, and he stuttered out uncharacteristically, “W-wow, I mean, if you ever want a change of pace, I can put together another mix, it’d be no problem!  I got a few tracks I’ve been working on I know you’d dig.”
“There is no rush, Lucio,” Hanzo replied, somewhat regretting initiating further interaction but doing his best out of respect to a capable healer whose skills would definitely be needed to keep Genji alive once he left.  Fortunately, Lucio had the faraway look of inspiration lighting up his eyes.  In a moment, he excused himself and skated off to get those melodies out of his head and into the world of sound.  
“Aww, you’re not so cold after all!” McCree said with a pleased grin, about to slap Hanzo on the back but pulled back just in time to save the use of his hand.  “Guess Genji was right, you’ve made some progress adjusting here.  Now why won’t you ever let him in on that instead of being a grump all the time?”
Hanzo was about to nod, but something made him pause.  Unease, a frisson of disturbance that could be felt through the dragon of ink tattooed on his skin all the way into his bones.  A warning he must heed.
“I know what you’re up to, McCree.”  Ever so carefully, he said, ���I respect you as Genji’s comrade.  But your particular skills are not reserved just for heroics. You are a mercenary, and I will not let my guard down, for all of your silly outfits and foolish rambling.”
McCree frowned, looking genuinely confused.  “Now how do you figure that?”
“Simple.  You are always armed when you are around me.  Not so around Genji.”  The implication should have been clear; Hanzo believed McCree tagging along after him was not in hopes of quenching a junker-induced dry spell. (Although that could still account for a good 30%; he was not so modest.)
“Well, well, well.” McCree shrugged, eyes downcast, but not before an ominous flash of red light winked out under the shadow of his hat.  “For someone as clever as you to tell me that, you must think you got a royal flush in your hand.”
Hanzo hesitated, very much aware that they were more or less alone in the furthest target range from the central living quarters and meeting rooms.  All he had was a partial bluff against a man who Genji, of all people, swore was a master at playing cards.  Hanzo was only guessing based on what Zenyatta had told him, bits and pieces from the files he had scanned through before arriving at Watchpoint proper, what little Genji had revealed about his past in Overwatch, but McCree’s unusually restrained reaction seemed to confirm the gist of his theory.  “What you just said about being teammates and comrades, becoming heroes, I am only saying that I find it hard to believe,” he stated calmly, honestly.  “It is true that I want to become used to this place, that becoming friends even with you is something I would not reject.  But know that I am here to fight for Genji.  He is my priority, and as long as you stay true to him, I will not turn on you.  As long as you give me no reason to distrust you.  Because my brother may have forgiven all of you involved with his creation, but I will not forget how you stole him and experimented on him…”
To his surprise, McCree laughed aloud, shaking his head in disbelief.  “You got the wrong guy, partner,” he said.  “Technically, I did nothing.  Now Reyes and I, we did our best to include Genji in Blackwatch, get him back on his feet after his rehab.  But others above us made the decision to retrieve his body and turn him into a cyborg in the first place.”
“…Blackwatch?  You mean Overwatch.”  Hanzo narrowed his eyes, thrown off balance by McCree’s interruption.  That feeling of freefall, struggling for a handhold while the ground gave way below his feet.  The sensation of unease only grew, a tidal wave pulling the very air from his lungs.
“Yeah, Blackwatch was part of Overwatch, but Genji and I worked under Reyes directly.  Bit of a difference there.”
“No.  Genji showed me a photo of the team… his clothing had the Overwatch emblem, not Blackwatch’s…”
“Oh God, the one time we got him to wear clothes?”  McCree chuckled again, and Hanzo gritted his teeth at the too-casual sound.  “That was much later.  Genji musta been in Blackwatch with me for four years or so. He’d been taking down the Shimada clan and operations in East Asia while the medical team completed his cyberization process.  I think Genji didn’t get on Overwatch’s official payroll until his final upgrades were done.  But soon after that, he left the organization.”
“No…” Hanzo repeated, more uncertainly this time.  Genji had never said anything about how long it took to build his cyborg body, what specifically he had to do as compensation for their investment. But Hanzo never pressed for details.  He had not thoroughly considered the implication of Overwatch, or Blackwatch in this case, spiriting away a scion of the very empire they were trying to bring down. But he should have…  That was what happened with McCree and Deadlock Gang, was it not?  “Genji would have mentioned that.”
“Hey, I got nothing to gain by lying to you, Hanzo,” McCree said quietly, his hands palms up in a reassuring gesture.  “You can ask Genji yourself.  He was in Blackwatch with me.”
Hanzo rubbed at his forehead, suddenly wishing for alcohol and the oblivion of sleep.  He had been meaning to make his intentions clear to McCree, and thus the former members of Overwatch, to assure them that he would participate in their missions as long as Genji was protected.  That keeping track of him was of little use, unproductive and a waste of their resources.
But if Overwatch back then had forced Genji’s involvement with Blackwatch, if they had required his cooperation in exchange for completion of his cyborg body...  There was his fear, resurfacing into the light once more. They could still be trapped, movements tracked and bodies claimed by an organization working outside of government and law.
Just like when we were boys, Hanzo thought in grim despair, clutching at his hair.  Hysterical.  He wanted to laugh, but could not even summon a noise.
He felt, rather than saw or heard, McCree’s presence envelop him, warm and bittersweet.  Blind and deaf, he struggled against the hope and comfort and security he had forsaken, fled instead for the miserable irresistible uncertainty that made up the world he shared with his brother.
  Genji took a breath and exhaled long and slow, the way he used to, the way he no longer needed to. He glanced towards the warren that made up Watchpoint, but his brother never appeared at the courtyard entrance.
“I don’t think Hanzo is going to join us after all, Master,” he murmured.
At his side, Zenyatta watched a duo of autumn butterflies drift silently away into the breeze.  “No.  Not yet, my student.”
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