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From the ashes of hate
It's a cruel demon's fate. On the wings of darkness he's returned to stay. There will be no escape 'cause he's fallen far from grace. When the shadows remain in the light of day, on the wings of darkness he'll retaliate. He'll be falling from grace till the end of all his days.
II
He'd been there for three weeks. Three long weeks that had been one new agony after another. The first entire week he'd spent as a nanite cloud buzzing around the city, confused, frightened, and unable to focus enough to remember his human form. When he'd finally been able to gather himself to that point, the face staring back at him in the mirror had been wrong. There was vitiligo now, which he'd never had before. His hair was salt and pepper like before, but more salt than pepper now. His eyes - his eyes frightened him. Black sclera with red iris wasn't right, but it was what he was stuck with now. And then there were the fangs. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the double fangs on the top or bottom jaw to go away.

Gabriel had taken on the Reaper mask permanently after that. While he still used the name Gabriel Reyes, he was far more Reaper now than the man he'd been before the explosion. He was an abomination who shouldn't exist - he should be dead. Well, he probably had died, when he thought about it too long. He couldn't remember much from those last moments. Just that he and Jack had argued, he'd been trapped and something had passed between them, and a sudden agonizing pain and a feeling of devastating loneliness before it all went black. He wasn't even sure if Jack had gotten out - he hoped so, but he couldn't remember.

Everybody he'd talked to thus far who'd found their way here without dying had encountered a mirror of some sort and been sucked into it. He had no such encounter, and the others who'd died voiced similar memories of their last moments before waking in this realm. It... hurt, really, to think about. He'd died back home. Why couldn't he have stayed dead? It was better than the eldritch horror he was now. The buzzing of the nanites told him his agitation was making his unstable form worse. If he wasn't careful, he'd drop it entirely and end up a goddamn cloud of the things again. He didn't want to deal with that.

Stumbling along, trying to get his thoughts in order, black smoke drifted off his entire body as he lurched forward. As his concentration went, the smoke increased and he suddenly found himself without a mask to hide the horror that became his face when he couldn't focus or hadn't fed. It was a bit of both just then, and he hissed out a curse as best he could past lips that kept trying to reform and dissolve again just as quickly. A glance in the window of the shop showed him a faint reflection. His face looked more skull-like than alive just then, the glowing red of his eyes fading as his energy waned.

Oh, he hurt. He was so damn tired, so sick of this. He wanted his old self back, the one who could wraith and travel in an insubstantial form, but who could retake his fully human - albeit painful - form. Not this. This was wrong. This was terrifying, even to him. And then he caught sight of the small group further ahead. They'd noticed him and were shrinking away, their faces frozen into expressions of horror. It made Gabe shrink in on himself a bit, and even more smoke drifted from him now.

He turned away, staggering back the way he'd come. To hell with this. He'd go home and hide until it was dark, then go hunting. He needed to feed, and soon. But he hated that even more than the monstrous form - though he supposed (bitterly, to himself) that the form simply revealed the truth of him to others. He was a monster. A wave of dizziness slammed into him and he staggered before coming to a stop, chest heaving with ragged gasps.

Tag: Shirelin | Gabriel's having trouble.
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Shirelin had no idea what made her follow the particular cloud that snaked around the city, save pure curiosity. It wasn't like anything she'd really seen before, and it wasn't like she had anything better to do anyways. And so, paws tread after it, staying back without losing it, in case it was dangerous. It smelled... metallic? Strange. Very strange indeed. Man made, whatever it was. For three days, she followed it, ignoring her own need to eat, until her stomach grew too loud. Only then did she peel off her hunt to go eat.

 

When she tried to find the cloud again, it didn't remain as so for long. A man's form emerged from it, and he stared at the faint reflection granted him by a shop window. A furred tail swished behind her as she sat, watching with eyes that didn't match. Curiouser and curiouser. A man made of metal things, looking a monster and looking scared for it. And then it was hidden from view by a mask and he was gone.

 

Now the man (was it really a man?) had her attention, and the woman had slipped from cat form to human form, and then to that of a white dove that flew overhead, circling and following. It was something to do, following him. He seemed to struggle with keeping his human form, and she found the fight to be oddly familiar. She lost him a time or two, having to return to work to earn her keep, but she found him again after some searching.

 

Today was different though. Today he staggered and looked unwell, smoke and shadows spiraling off him like incense offered to a god. His form twitched, but it wasn't a physical twitch, more like something going wrong between him and a different plane's version of him. He looked... lost, and... scared. That, more than anything pulled her out of the shadows, changing into her human form as she moved, and he'd probably catch part of the transformation.

 

"Breathe. Remember to breathe." Her voice was soft, gentle, but also firm at the same time, a command rather then a suggestion. Her hand reached out, catching him by the chin, and a chill ran down her spine at the feeling of the... metal bugs running under her fingers across his face. She pushed that down; she could be sick later. He looked like something gone too long in the sun, and she wondered if she'd waited too long. Either way, she made him look at her, his red eyes forced to meet her green and blue ones. "Do you remember what you look like before? Focus on that. Ground yourself in that, and breathe."

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From the ashes of hate
It's a cruel demon's fate. On the wings of darkness he's returned to stay. There will be no escape 'cause he's fallen far from grace. When the shadows remain in the light of day, on the wings of darkness he'll retaliate. He'll be falling from grace till the end of all his days.
II
His breathing became more and more ragged as he fought with himself, trying to keep his form and to keep the self-loathing and disgust at bay. It was hard when others looked at him like the small group had though. Even still, the woman who approached him caught his attention. She'd shifted shapes - of that he was certain - and revealed herself to him. He wasn't sure what she wanted, but when she spoke red eyes fixed on her mismatched ones.

The grip on his chin shocked him, and his eyes went wide, though he wasn't sure how much of the expression translated when he looked like a days old corpse. His breath rasped past clenched teeth. She was being very, very firm with him and in normal circumstances the command issued would have gotten his back up. Gabriel didn't like being issued orders, whether in his personal life or in his professional one - though in his professional world, it really depended on the orders and who was giving them.

But she was clearly trying to help him and he shoved his pride down. He needed help, he needed someone who would look past the monstrous form to see the man underneath who was slowly drowning. Even if it was just for this moment, if he could have an ally... He did as she instructed, taking a deep breath and focusing on what he knew he should look like. \"I do. It... it hasn't been that long since I had it.\" His voice was metallic, raspy, and chilling - even to him.

\"Hijo de puta!\" The curse wasn't aimed at her, but was clearly a vent as the poor man continued to struggle. He closed his eyes, remembered his honey brown eyes, the shape of his nose and jaw, the way his goatee appeared, his undercut, the strength and shape of his body. As he did so, he continued to take deep, slow breaths, until he felt his form settle. There was still smoke drifting off him, and he was pretty sure his eyes weren't the right color, but he did still need to feed soon.

After a long moment he opened his eyes and locked them onto hers. \"I - thank you. How did you know?\" He rubbed at the back of his head, causing the hood to fall and revealing messy salt & pepper hair. \"I'm Gabriel, by the way.\" His voice was still rougher, but sounded far closer to what it should than the metallic rasp of before.

Tag: Shirelin | He's really confused as to why she's helping him, but he's damn grateful.
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His stance was panicked, rigid, a man ready to crumble like a besieged wall. His breathing was short, quick, incomplete. At least he responded when she had grabbed his chin. The surprise had been clear in his red eyes. Definitely a male, given the build and shaping of his features - some things were distinct, even with only a skull showing. His breath came through clenched teeth, further telling of his distress. Would he actually listen to her advice?

 

Finally, he took a deep breath and let it out, and his eyes cast about, remembering. Folks looked one way when remembering something, and another when making something up. That was something she'd long since learned over her years, and he was trying to be honest with himself. His voice triggered instincts to run, but that wouldn't help him now. A fellow shifter needed help, even if he wasn't the same kind of shifter as she. And then he cursed, and Shirelin let go of him, instead grabbing for his arms to anchor him. It was a gentle hold, and the concern was hard to miss in her eyes. Shielded, but it was there.

 

He continued to breathe, and the smoke settled, though only marginally. It still swirled and reached out like the faithful crying for a miracle, and dammit, she'd be the miracle he needed. Fuck whatever gods did this to this poor man. His form shifted, changed, and though he maintained crimson eyes, he was fairly handsome, actually. A small pang of loneliness and jealous pricked at her heart, but she hid it from her expression. Whoever this man had eyes on was a lucky individual.

 

That wasn't her concern though. Instead, she looked him over, making sure he wouldn't fall apart on her once she let go of him. Sometimes a touch was all that someone needed to keep emotions at bay, for them to regain their feet. Again, those eyes locked on her and she nodded to show she accepted his gratitude. Delicate seeming hands finally released his biceps and she folded her arms over her chest for a lack of anything else to do with them. It also pushed people away - another thing she'd noticed over her lifetime. "I know what it's like to try and maintain one's form while under duress, and pardon me saying so, but you looked to be under a great deal of duress."

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pta7ZW.gif\"
From the ashes of hate
It's a cruel demon's fate. On the wings of darkness he's returned to stay. There will be no escape 'cause he's fallen far from grace. When the shadows remain in the light of day, on the wings of darkness he'll retaliate. He'll be falling from grace till the end of all his days.
II
Her presence did more for him than he wanted to admit. He hated relying on others, but the truth of it was, Gabriel needed others. He needed contact with people, he needed friends, he needed to feel wanted. He'd struggled when he'd felt that starting to slip away from him back home as he'd become more and more extreme in his methods. It'd been necessary - if he didn't do it, then one of his agents would have to instead, and better the blood on his hands than theirs. Better his than Jack's.

Jack... The grief that suddenly hit him caused his smoke to swirl, and he closed his eyes for a moment before responding to anything the woman said. He absolutely had to get control of himself. Her grip on his arms had helped to ground him while he'd reformed before, and he focused on the memory of that as much as his form to get himself back under control. When he took another breath, his shoulders relaxed and the smoke curled off him far less.

The compassion in her eyes meant a lot, even if the prideful part of him really didn't want to accept compassion or pity from anyone. He shoved that down, refusing to let his stubborn pride or ego drive away a potential ally and perhaps friend. He needed friends, and if she could accept him even after seeing the monster lurking under the surface? That wasn't someone to push away. Though he was concerned about her arms crossing - he did that a lot to distance himself and knew enough to read her body language. It wasn't entirely that, but at least part of it was.

She'd been able to read his emotions despite the horror of the form he'd worn, had been kind enough to reach out despite it, and help him. She understood him in a way he felt that few would, and after a moment's hesitation after he got himself fully under control, he nodded. \"Yeah. It uh... I wasn't exactly happy to find myself here and the circumstances weren't great. At all. A goddamn building dropped on me. Guess I was one of the unlucky bastards who got here by dying instead of finding one of those weird ass mirrors.\"

The more he relaxed, the calmer he got, the more his typical speech patterns emerged, including the profanity he was so fond of. She'd not given him a name still, unless he'd been too distressed and distracted and had just missed it. Honestly, he'd not have been surprised if that was the case. \"The help's appreciated. Seriously. The shadowy shit's handy for my job when I can control it. That... was not controlling it. That was a fucking mess.\" He rubbed at the back of his head self consciously, and gave her a hesitant grin that transformed his face.

Tag: Shirelin | He's all over the place emotionally.
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The demigod watched the man in front of her, noting the swirling smoke, the grief that hit him. He had many things on his mind, of that she was certain. It was those emotions keeping him from keeping a truly solid form, almost like a wraith trying to keep corporeal when he just wanted to disappear. She had no idea how true of a statement that actually was, actually, but it was the thought that drifted through her mind as she watched. Her arms, though still crossed, loosened, ready to grab him again if he looked to need her touch.

 

She waited though, and sure enough, he took another breath and settled down again. Good. He took lessons well, it seemed like. Good. Nothing worse than a shifter who wouldn't listen to the more experienced on the best course of action. It was then she realized he had introduced himself, but she hadn't done the same. Whoops. "The name is Shirelin, Gabriel."

 

His name rolled easily off her tongue, almost like a purr, and her faint Greek accent became more pronounced when she said his name. Even still, her eyes widened when he told her how he'd gotten there in Pandaemonium. He certainly had a mouth on him, but he seemed to be calming down at least. Good. "I found my way here through one of those... weird ass mirrors as you put it. I do not like being away from home, but what can you do but make the best of it?"

 

Then again, she had a lot less to lose from coming here. Her brother, though she stayed near him, was capable of handling himself. He could cook, clean, and take care of himself. She missed him, but save one person... she had no one that'd miss her when she went missing. Why did thinking on that hurt? She pushed it aside, nodding to show she was still listening. When he smiled though, her eyes went straight to his lips and those fangs of his. Well, well, well... He certainly was a sight for sore eyes, and if he'd not been there long, it meant he didn't have anyone yet throwing themselves at him. Why was she even thinking about that though? Bah.

 

"As I said, duress is a good way to lose control of a situation, regardless of form. Just need to remember to breathe and that you can get through it. Control is important for a shifter." Control of one's emotions, control of one's life, control of one's form. She wished she didn't have to have so much control, but... it was that or be stuck mid form, or worse. Shirelin stepped to the side, gesturing for him. "Do you want me to walk you home, Gabriel? Or do you not have a place to stay?"

 

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pta7ZW.gif\"
From the ashes of hate
It's a cruel demon's fate. On the wings of darkness he's returned to stay. There will be no escape 'cause he's fallen far from grace. When the shadows remain in the light of day, on the wings of darkness he'll retaliate. He'll be falling from grace till the end of all his days.
II
Her arms had loosened a bit, and she gave her name after he'd finished talking. He liked the way she said his name. Her accent was intriguing, and it seemed a bit stronger than before. Her eyes had widened a bit as she took in how he'd gotten there - it was hard to miss the reaction. Gabe was relieved when his cussing didn't scare her off or earn a scold, and gave a smirk in response to her comment on how he referred to the mirrors. \"Well, glad you got here the easy way then. Sucks when you had to die to get here, gotta tell ya.\"

He sighed and shook his head. \"But damn, do I understand not liking being away from home. Despite what happened, I... I'd really rather have not left. Not that there was anything left of me to be able to survive.\" His expression went a bit sour. \"Not like there was anything for me anymore anyway. I fucked up majorly in several ways.\" He didn't specify how he'd screwed up, having dumped enough on a virtual stranger as it was.

Damn. Why was he pouring his thoughts out like that anyway? It wasn't like him. Well, he knew why. Dying horribly like that and finding yourself in such a weird ass place with a form that finally matched what you were on the inside could do that. He was fucking unbalanced from everything. Memories of a certain blond threatened to drown him again and he forced himself to shove them down, to be dealt with when he could go to pieces alone. He didn't cry really, not in a very long time - even when he'd felt the need to the tears just couldn't come anymore - but he especially didn't do that in front of others. It was weak when he did it, and he didn't show weakness.

He'd picked up on her eyes focusing on his lips, and wondered what about them was so fascinating. He quirked another smile, to see how she responded, showing just a bit of teeth as he did so. \"I guess. I wouldn't really consider myself a shifter though. I can go insubstantial sure, and lose my shape entirely, but this is the only form besides that. Nanites were programmed to repair what you see, not shift it. Not entirely sure where the damn cloud came from.\"

Right. She'd offered to walk him home. \"I do have a place. The company would be welcome, so yeah. It's over in the main residential district.\" He nodded in the direction and started off in that direction, going slowly enough that she could fall into step next to him.

Tag: Shirelin | He's still all over the place.
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Seemed the pair of them had a lot more in common then she had originally thought, and the realization lingered in her eyes, even if the rest of her face seemed indifferent. His smirk made her eyebrows lift almost in challenge, but she held her tongue. The smirk was there and gone, though, replaced with a sigh and a shake of the head soon after. He was really expressive, she noted, especially compared to her. "I didn't have anything back home, either."

 

It was quiet, almost uncaring, but she couldn't bring herself to elaborate. Finally, she unfolded her arms and hooked them behind her back, and it seemed to make her that much more open and receptive to him. At least, that was the intent behind the movement, anyways. She wrapped her fingers on her right hand around her left wrist, keeping her elbows loose, still ready to touch him if he needed the grounding. Why was she caring so much for a stranger? It didn't make sense.

 

Again, loneliness pricked at her heart, answering her unspoken question. She'd gone far too long without intimacy, and for some reason, her soul craved it fiercely right now. It took everything Shirelin had to keep her sigh internal. Her loneliness usually only spiked in the weeks prior to her cycle, but this man didn't need to know that. Again, though, her eyes went to his lips when he smiled, and again, she caught a glimpse of double fangs. Dammit all. Her eyes narrowed a bit, almost playfully at the gesture, but she said nothing about the flirtation. She wasn't mad, not really, but he wasn't playing too fairly, either, especially if the subtle flush to her cheeks was any indication to her.

 

There were some things she couldn't control, such as when a man got under her skin like he just did, but she still tried to keep her expression passive, aloof even. She slowly arched a brow as she got her cheeks back under control. Control. She needed control. The only way to keep from getting hurt. "You can still change from one form to another. The principle still applies, I would think."

 

It didn't take much for her to fall in next to him, and her hands found their way to the pockets of her jeans. They were a wonderful invention, and though limited in some movements, they still granted a level of protection that regular trousers didn't. "Seems we're of the same mind there. Company is always nice."

 

What. Was she. Saying? Yeah, she definitely was unconsciously scoping him out it seemed and she wanted to throttle her instincts in that moment for it. Still, she needed to keep him at a distance. He was mortal, as far as Shire knew, and thus wasn't worth the heartache. Not that there were many immortals around that she was aware of. The loneliness swarmed her again and she looked at the ground in front of her, the emotion clear in her mismatched eyes despite her best efforts.

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pta7ZW.gif\"
From the ashes of hate
It's a cruel demon's fate. On the wings of darkness he's returned to stay. There will be no escape 'cause he's fallen far from grace. When the shadows remain in the light of day, on the wings of darkness he'll retaliate. He'll be falling from grace till the end of all his days.
II
Gabriel kept his pace a bit slower than he would have had he been alone, not sure if she'd appreciate a brisk walk like he did. It wasn't a stroll, by any means, but it wasn't the breakneck speed that he used to get around when he was in a hurry. Her eyebrows lifting had been noticed, but they'd moved on to focus on other things and he'd filed it away for later.

Her admission that she didn't have anything back home either earned a simpathetic wince. He knew how hard that was. In his case, it was on his shoulders. He'd been to blame for having nothing, there at the end. If he'd just... what? Tried harder? Told Jack about the secrets he kept? He'd tried as hard as he could without crossing any boundaries again. He'd done that once, and it had ruined everything. So that left telling Jack the secrets he'd held close. Could he have? He didn't know. He didn't want the golden haired man to get his hands dirty, and he would have if Gabe had revealed all he knew before it'd been too late and the lies had been exposed before his intel gathering had been complete. Of course Jack would believe what was there - there wasn't any reason not to, and with what had happened between them...

God damn it. He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. It was hard, much harder than he'd thought it would be, to heal and accept that he'd lost Jack, that he'd lost Overwatch, that he'd lost everything and that he'd died, in the end. He'd been alone. Completely, utterly, devastatingly alone.

He didn't push her to elaborate on why she had nothing, nor did he give further details on his own story - though he thought that he might spill more of the truth of what had happened, given half a chance. He was teetering on the edge of a knife, his control over many things shattering.

Red eyes glanced in her direction as they continued to walk. It wouldn't take long, even with the slower pace, and he hoped she'd stay and talk for a bit. He wasn't sure now though, with how she was behaving now, if she would. There was hesitance there, a distance still, even as she helped him and was friendly toward him.

Her eyes had narrowed at him when he'd cautiously flirted with her, and she'd not seemed angry, though the flush to her cheeks told him he'd definitely gotten through. He knew this wasn't likely the right path for either of them - two lonely individuals who had pain to deal with - but the ache in his chest, the void he felt from the loss of Jack was hard to ignore. He wanted his golden boy back and he'd fucked up to where that would never happen. Even if the man came through here, he'd not want a monster. And that's what Gabriel was.

Damn it.

He pushed the despair down, focusing on Shirelin, and flashed another smile. This one was a full blown grin, though it didn't fully reach his eyes - those were still filled with anguish and pain despite his best efforts to hide it. \"You got me there. I can do what I do because of an experiment. Was supposed to let me heal faster, and stealth into places others couldn't get. Sure as hell does that. Other stuff I could do without.\" There was some snarky humor there. \"Gonna have to practice keeping my cool and staying patient. Neither are strong suits.\"

They'd reached the district by then, and he turned them down into one of the nicer areas, where the condos and homes were sizable and had about everything you could ever think of available already, or for a fee it could be installed. He'd done well, landing that job, and was once again grateful for it. He did hope that none of his neighbors noticed his form's issues though. Not something he wanted nosy busybodies asking about.

Tag: Shirelin | He's.... confusing himself.
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Shirelin followed easily enough, letting the silence permeate the air as the man wrestled with his thoughts. She'd been there near the beginning of when others were pulled through, and had watched the city begin to flourish with the care of the new residents. His sympathetic wince hadn't gone unnoticed, but what was the point of bringing attention to it? Apparently, though, by his actions and his words, he had far more back home then she had - even if he considered that he'd lost it all.

 

Her eyes watched the street and the others here and there out walking, giving the man next to her time to think and to process whatever it was that was on his mind. If he wanted to share, he would. That was how people were, usually. When he forcibly swallowed, though, she looked over at him directly, her eyes running along the cut and curves of his profile in curiosity. Gabriel... he was struggling with some manner of internal demon, but it wasn't her place to pry. Not really. And yet she asked anyways, "Do you wanna talk about it, Gabriel?"

 

Again with how easily it rolled off her tongue, how sweet it sounded to her, like honey. She enjoyed his name; it was pleasing and not too harsh. She looked away again though, willing to give him the time he needed to cope and process. Finally, he flashed a grin that didn't meet his eyes, and if she was closer to him, she would have called him on it, but his story was fascinating to the woman regardless. She offered up a small smile of her own that didn't quite meet her own mismatched eyes. "Oh, how I can relate to that. I wish I didn't have some of my own gifts, myself. But the Fates work mysteriously, and had we neither had our gifts, perhaps we never would have met."

 

She'd always been a big believer in the Fates. Given when she grew up and her own heritage, one would have to be a fool not to. Sometimes coincidences couldn't be explained, after all, and in this case, had she not been a shifter, she'd not have even approached him in the first place... And actually, it was likely she wouldn't have met him at all, given how short the human life span was. Her fingers traced along her thigh idly, grounding her back in the moment. Her gaze went up, up, up at the nicer buildings, eyes widening in amazement. This man next to her surely had some amount of wealth to be in this neighborhood. Hm. Something to consider.

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pta7ZW.gif\"
From the ashes of hate
It's a cruel demon's fate. On the wings of darkness he's returned to stay. There will be no escape 'cause he's fallen far from grace. When the shadows remain in the light of day, on the wings of darkness he'll retaliate. He'll be falling from grace till the end of all his days.
II
He'd skipped right over her question about wanting to talk about 'it' when he'd responded with humor and the grin that hadn't quite reached his eyes. Hers hadn't either, though, which he'd noted as he watched her. Gabe liked the way his name sounded when she said it, though he didn't let himself explore that for too long. She'd talked about the Fates - something he'd read about in a lot of mythology books but rarely heard about back home as it was long in the history of one of the countries, not current.

\"You have a point. It's always interesting to look at what's happened in our lives and how we are to see where it's brought us.\" He gave a half shrug, then nodded down into one of the small condo and townhouse communities. \"We're over this way.\" He didn't realize he'd used the plural possessive until it was out of his mouth. Well shit. He hoped she didn't get offended.

The condos were nice, and he'd been tempted by several of them, but the place he'd gotten was even nicer still. The townhouses had several things going for them that had drawn him in. While he'd not had a lot when he was younger, and even early on in Overwatch, moving up and then being in charge of Blackwatch had given him damned good quarters when he was home. Not that he'd spent a ton of time home - he'd been out in the field and using the safehouses, whose rooms were shit compared to his own, but still better than camping under the stars.

Because he'd had a taste of the best, he liked nicer things whenever he could afford them, and the job he'd landed allowed him exactly what he wanted. The townhouse had several floors to it - a basement that was actually below street level had worried him at first, because of the whole 'city floating on the water' deal, but the magick protecting the lower levels was strong. He'd had Khadgar look it over, using his position to request a quick favor. The mage had been amused but had come to help. As much as he struggled, he'd managed to keep his form together and also not embarrass himself in front of the Archmage by geeking out. It'd been hard though. After he'd been sure the basement was safe, he'd inspected it closely, noting 'windows' that looked out into the depths, though they could be blocked as well.

Then he'd explored the first floor, which was by far the largest. It contained the living area, with a fireplace and comfortable couches and chairs, the dining room, the kitchen, and a mix of a laundry and pantry area. The second floor contained several bedrooms - three to be precise, with one massive one and two mid-sized ones as well. The third floor was one massive room, meant to be a study or a den of some sort. It had a half wall that opened out to look down on the living room from the first floor, as neither the second or third floors extended past the dining room. He liked that floor the best, and often ghosted up there to hide when it became too much.

There was a private entrance with a tall wall that had vines growing on it and an elaborately designed wooden door that opened into a private garden area. As they neared it, he pressed his palm against the door, and it unlatched after the magick scanned him and recognized him as the owner. Once they'd both stepped through he closed the door and stretched, smiling around at the sight that met their eyes. This had been one of the major selling points for him. There was a small patch of lawn, but the majority of the large garden space was taken up by various plants - vines climbed the walls, rose bushes lined the paths, and ferns, bushes, and small trees were spread artistically throughout. At the center was a small fountain and an area to sit nearby and chill. He'd needed that. And he'd decided he was gonna spoil himself, damn it.

\"So uh... this is the garden. Gotta admit it's what drew my eye first. Come on inside for now though. We can come back out here later, if you want to stick around.\" He led the way inside, held the door open, and then slipped in after the woman. Belatedly, his eyes went to the material spread out all over the main living area's floor and he went a bit pale. Oh shit. My project! SHIT. There were more 'projects' upstairs in one of the extra bedrooms and in the loft area as well, but those were hidden out of sight. This? This display of nerdiness was on display in all its glorious detail for her to take in. \"Uh, pretend you didn't see this and I'll tell you what was on my mind.\"

Fuck. He'd do that anyway. His mind had been tumbling over itself, trying to figure out how to start since she'd asked. Taking a moment to carefully gather the material - even as embarrassed as he was, he wasn't gonna just shove it to the side. He didn't want to ruin it, just hide it for now. \"I ... back home, things weren't good. I was part of a group charged to protect the world from threats. Only, some of the biggest threats had infiltrated the damn group itself and I was trying to weed it out. My - my partner was the head of the entire group, and I was trying to keep his hands clean.\"

He had to clear his throat again, and take a deep breath before he continued. He took the moment to fold the fabric, and carefully place the loose pins away with it. \"Anyway, we had a personal relationship going in additional to the professional one. I fucked up badly, did something I will regret forever. It broke something between us and then shit from the infiltrators brought the whole place crashing down around us. Not that he ever gave me a chance to make it right.\" He growled in frustration, his voice tight with emotion.

\"They'd planted a bunch of shit that made it look like I was on their side and since I'd not brought him in on what I knew yet, in an attempt to keep his hands clean still, he thought it was all fucking true. Last thing I remember before it gets fuzzy is us fighting and the goddamn building blowing up around us. I dunno if he got out, but I remember the building crushing me. Not exactly great to remember, huh?\"

What the hell? Why'd he just told her all that? That was way too much fucking info on him, and he barely knew her. Besides that, he'd just opened himself up to questions about the nature of the personal relationship and what exactly he'd done to break things between them. He gave her a nervous glance, smoke curling off of him again as his nerves began to get the better of him.

Tag: Shirelin | Um... long post is long.
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"We're over this way." We? Unusual. It was almost as if he'd invited her to stay with him without doing so. Perhaps this man, lonely as he was, wanted her to stay around for the company she could provide. Shirelin wasn't entirely sure it was the wisest course of action, but it did provide a roof over her head - that is, if she read the situation correctly. Either way, she followed after the darker skinned man, her hands brushing and feeling the material of her jeans for comfort.

 

Though her face had been emotionless until now, her eyes widened in wonder at the garden they'd entered into. It was beautiful - and that was an understatement to her. Then again, she was partly distracted by Gabriel stretching out in front of her, and that smile on his face. Made him seem more handsome, younger even, when he smiled like that. She liked the effect it had on him. As the demigoddess walked with him, her hand absently pulled from her pocket to run along this or that: a rosebush here, a vine there, and the fountain... Her eyes watched the water play and splash for a long moment as he spoke. Slowly she looked over, a gentle smile on her face that crinkled her eyes. "It's beautiful - you certainly have an eye for it, hm?"

 

She was grateful for his chivalry, and it allowed her a glimpse of his home before he could explain anything, or clean up whatever he had left out. Shire was curious about the man, and whatever he had lying around spoke a lot of what he thought of himself and his environment. What she hadn't expected was how quickly he ran ahead of her to gather up the materials strewn across the table. Looked like he was a tailor of sorts, or had a fascination with the craft at any rate. She stepped forward, carefully piling the material together and helping him clean, though his comment earned a raised eyebrow. Given his expression, he'd tell her anyways.

 

The woman listened, hands moving quickly to help clean up the mess, even though she wasn't sure where to put any of it for the time being. Instead, she settled for putting them in piles closer to him so he could deal with them as he wished. Regret. He had a lot of regret he was dealing with, and without thinking, Shirelin reached out, touching his upper arm gently. It was just her fingertips and just a little pressure, but there was understanding on her face. The news of her village being swept away still haunted her, though she knew it had nothing to do with her. Her father had been angry and lashed out, as gods did. He'd wanted to see his children again, and they'd been gone...

 

Shirelin mentally shook the thoughts away, bringing herself back to the conversation at hand. The touch to his arm was only a moment, and she quickly removed it, putting her hands on the table in its place. What he described was horrible, and for being a hero, that was not how one treated a hero. Her eyes narrowed, her head shaking in agreement. "That... is not something great to remember, nor a pleasant way to die, either, Gabriel. I'm sorry that had to happen to you."

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pta7ZW.gif\"
From the ashes of hate
It's a cruel demon's fate. On the wings of darkness he's returned to stay. There will be no escape 'cause he's fallen far from grace. When the shadows remain in the light of day, on the wings of darkness he'll retaliate. He'll be falling from grace till the end of all his days.
II
He'd been pleased that she liked his garden, and approved of his eye for it. He'd not responded though, as they'd headed inside and he'd immediately panicked about his projects and what she might say or think about them - and him. It was hard to get rid of decades of defensive behavior that'd been developed to defend himself against bullies and those who didn't understand.

She was polite though, helping him gather the material. His cheeks had flushed even despite his best efforts to keep them from doing so, and he hoped it wasn't too obvious. The raised eyebrow had been noted, but then he'd spilled his guts to her, unable to stop even as his mind screamed at him. He'd been shocked but also grateful when she'd helped him to gather up the material, and it'd relaxed him somewhat as he spoke.

The closer piles to him, which she had placed there, were quickly gathered and placed with the others, until all of them were in a careful pile and could be shut in a cupboard underneath one of the end tables. Her touch on his arm also surprised him, but it further grounded him and he realized how much he needed someone right now. He'd always prided himself on being self sufficient, but despite his best efforts to stay that way, he'd come to rely on Jack. Jack had always been there.

Until he wasn't.

And that's where he'd found himself in the weeks before the explosion, and then again here. There at least, he'd known Jack was alive and safe. Here? He had no fucking clue. This woman though - she had been there, helped him with his form, and had provided a steady, calming influence when he was going to pieces, something he didn't do often. Which was probably why it was so bad now that he was actually falling apart. Her understanding hurt though, because it meant she'd suffered something herself.

He was disappointed when she pulled away, but didn't pursue her hand, not sure if it would be appropriate or welcomed. Her narrowed eyes, the head shake, and the sympathy she spoke with eased him further though. Gabriel gave a small, half-hearted shrug. \"I ... thank you. I suppose I deserved it, at least in part, for keeping him in the dark on everything til the very end... and yet-\" He cut himself off, shaking his head. It really didn't do to dwell on such things. It wasn't like he could make it right, and Jack had made it more than clear that he wasn't wanted in any capacity. That... still hurt, if he was being honest with himself.

\"I just wish I had a chance to make it all right. I blame myself for much of what happened.\" He growled, making a frustrated gesture. \"I'm trying to help here, and make a difference, and yet I can't seem to let go of my mistakes there. Maybe this is my punishment for the lies and everything else.\" He closed his eyes, running a hand down his face and sighed.

He needed to get a hold of himself. Clearing his throat, he shook his head and glanced at her again, his red eyes conflicted. \"Sorry. You probably don't want to hear about all my shit.\" He shifted uncomfortably. \"Can I get you anything? I've got tea, coffee, wine, beer, and a variety of snacks.\"

Tag: Shirelin | He's really all over the place, and kind of floundering.
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  • 2 weeks later...

Mismatched eyes watched the man next to her as he scooped up all the fabric pieces and put them away out of sight. That was right; in modern times, men were usually taunted for their interest in sewing and similar things because it was 'girly' and associated with women. In times past, it was left to some women because they had a lot of time to deal with the task, but even her brother knew how to make his clothes.

 

Still, Shirelin found herself sympathising with the man who had invited her in. Why had he done that? Invite a complete stranger into his home merely because she had helped him once? His shrug seemed like he was rolling her words off his back, and that hurt. Even with all her distance, somethings still stung at her like a thorn in her fingertips. Everything he'd told her though... A light bulb lit above her head, and her eyes lit up with the realization. "You were just trying to protect him, correct? Even if it hurt both of you in the long run, you were doing what you thought was right to protect him."

 

His growl sent a chill through her, though it wasn't meant to be a pleasant sound. There was more going on in his head then he was letting on, and curiosity piqued. She tried to hide it though; now wasn't the time for diving into his head. He'd laid it all out as it was. She didn't need to go digging. Instead, she pushed off the table and turned, resting her back against it and folding her arms loosely across her chest. "The best you can do is move past your mistakes, Gabriel... I would say the building falling on you and ending your life... that was punishment enough for what you had done."

 

The demigoddess looked over at him as he cleared his throat, giving her own shrug, even as he shifted uncomfortably. Seemed he wasn't used to sharing so much, especially with a complete stranger. Her eyes lit up again, though for a different reason, when he offered her a drink. It seemed to make her seem a little younger, even, more open. "Please. Do you have any dessert wines? Those are my favorite."

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  • 2 months later...

[dohtml]

pta7ZW.gif\"
From the ashes of hate
It's a cruel demon's fate. On the wings of darkness he's returned to stay. There will be no escape 'cause he's fallen far from grace. When the shadows remain in the light of day, on the wings of darkness he'll retaliate. He'll be falling from grace till the end of all his days.
II
Gabriel was grateful for the support, and when she seemed to get exactly what he'd been trying to do. He nodded. \"Yeah, that's exactly it. Besides the personal mistakes I'd made, there were bigger things at play that I was trying to shield him from, even if everything else was already gone between us.\" It was more than he'd meant to say, but this woman... he didn't know how she was doing it, because he was a trained soldier and spy, and knew better. Perhaps it was due to being in a new place where none of that mattered?

She was pleased by the offer of a drink he could tell and he nodded at her request. \"I seem rough around the edges to most everybody out there, but I like the finer things. I stock a wide variety of wines, hard liquors, and beers. Gourmet coffees and teas are also something I enjoy. Nobody knew that about me back home either - not even...\" He cleared his throat and pushed up, heading into the kitchen.

Calling back over his shoulder as he moved, his voice was pitched to carry. \"You are welcome to come with or explore the place. I don't mind. I don't have company over often.\" It didn't take him long to select a particularly nice dessert wine for her and a rich bourbon for himself, though and he was on his way back sooner than he'd anticipated.

\"I know you say that having a building dropped on me was punishment enough. But I just...\" He trailed off, holding out the wine glass to her so he could uncork the bottle and pour it. \"I fucked up bad. Way bad. Like... something I can't take back that changed everything bad.\" The guilt was clear in his face and tone, though he didn't elaborate further.

Tag: Shirelin | He's still sharing a ton, and he cannot figure out why.
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  • 4 months later...

Shirelin found herself following after Gabriel into the kitchen area, curious about more of the building she found herself in. Curiosity was something she never could suppress, and her eyes darted around quickly as he grabbed the wine for her and... oh. A nice choice of bourbon as well. He then turned to head back to the living area, and she quickly flicked through the cupboards, finding a nice wine glass for herself and after some looking, a proper snifter for him. She wasn't sure if he'd drink it straight from the bottle or not, but it was better to be prepared then not.

 

"What makes you think that having a building fall on you is not punishment enough? Having it fall on you, killing you, and then taking you from everything you knew and cared about? How is that not enough punishment for the crimes you keep hinting at but will not say?" Her words were firmer than she meant, but without context that he kept dancing around, and his denial that it was enough, it really rubbed the shifter's fur the wrong way. Still, she managed enough distance in her voice that she hoped it came across as aloof curiosity rather then the attack she felt it unintentionally was. She set the glasses down on the table they'd just cleaned off and once more rested her back against it, folding her arms over her chest, mulling over everything he'd told her now and before.

 

The realization hit her, and once again, the jealousy reared its head, but she shoved it back. The personal relationship... She lifted her head to meet his gaze, the compassion once more there and obvious. "You loved him deeply. That is why you think it is not enough.... Correct?"

 

If it was way off base, she would apologize, but she couldn't help him if he danced around the topic, dropping hints and vague clues without being honest. Though it wasn't her place to ask, either. She dropped her head again, looked away. "Though it is not my place to ask something so forthright. My apologies. It is... the only thing that makes sense to me, at least. Usually such pain only lingers so powerfully when it is one we love that we inflict it on."

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