futurology | Entries tagged with jesse mccree (overwatch)

[ McCree's just lounging somewhere outside in catland, maybe in a quiet corner of one of the plazas. Far from the meowing crowd. He's got his cigarillo dangling from the corner of his mouth, and he puffs on it intermittently, looking thoughtful. ]

Gotta say, this is a real nice little respite after all the mess we just got through. These cats have been mighty hospitable, too, and it was good of'em to take us in.

[ A pause. He leans forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. ]

But, y'know ... just between you and me, I'm really more of a dog person.

ex_mettacrusher33

Well, Audentes. Things have certainly taken a turn towards Sweeps Week, haven't they?

[Who's this stunningly handsome, yet unfortunately badly lit human...? Obviously, it's Mettaton, darlings, learn how to read. But wherever could he be with such hideous lighting?]

Riots, infected, and secrets, oh my... While we're out here doing our best to keep both the townspeople and ourselves safe, I thought it'd be a good time to share with the class what we might have found. And without having to play me for it!! Lucky you. [Wink.

The "camera" gets turned away from Mettaton (a crime, he knows), now clearly showing the inside of Woodhurst Watch HQ. Specifically, inside the head editor's room. He expertly pans it from the mess on the floor that the infected and townsfolk left in their rush to head out towards the top of the desk he's sitting at. On the desk, next to where he's perched his legs (you're welcome), are some scattered sheets of paper. He's focusing his communications jewelry on one in particular.]

"Local cancer patient attacks doctor during regularly scheduled chemotherapy appointment." How dramatic. But certainly interesting, isn't it? [He's audibly tapping his fingers on the desk, just out of frame.] Can't say I know entirely what to make of it, but I'm sure checking any records in the hospital would be a good start.

Also. [He turns his necklace back to himself.] Since I and, I'm only assuming, the rest of those inorganic among us aren't particularly interesting to those infected, we might prove ourselves useful when it comes to... Well. Anything. Can't be infected, won't even attract attention... [He puts a hand to his chest and sighs.] I never thought I'd find an audience I couldn't captivate. But! Here we are and the show must go on.

[Slightly more serious. It's obvious there are specific, less fortunate people on his mind.] If there's anyone out there that needs help, let me know. I'm no superhero, but...

...Why waste a talent when you have it?

cashlin

[In the midst of all of this pseudo-zombie terror, paranoia, and rioting, one woman alone remains firm, standing strong in the face of madness to remember the real universal importance of ALASTAIR's mission here--]

Well, ain't this an exciting Loverpalooza! Orrrr... almost Loverpalooza, I dunno what day it is anymore. I think the people on this planet call it somethin' else, too.

[--and it is definitely not this chick.

Lilith, rather, is perched on top of a dumpster in an empty alleyway with her legs folded, a paper grocery bag full of the spoils of looting in her lap. The crowds of Woodhurst, still in total uproar, are far from gone: the blare of horns honking, glass shattering, and men and women yelling unintelligibly just up the street is completely audible in the feed, but the woman doesn't seem to be paying them much mind at all. Not when she's grabbed her loot and made off unscathed.

Idly, Lilith rummages through her bag.] I didn't even get any chocolate! What a load of crap. [Instead, she's opting for a bottle of pills. Lilith presses the heel of her palm into the childproof cap and continues speaking as if somebody's car alarm didn't just yelp into life off-screen.]

Anyways, what're your plans, team? Ice cream and bad chick flicks at home? Fancy dinner, if anybody's still running the restaurants around here? A romantic evening punching rioters in the teeth with that special someone? Provided they make it out of this whole ordeal alive, that is. I know my date would've, but hey, he's not even on assignment here, so I'm shit out of luck. Open, you little bastard.

[With a soft noise of plastic clicking against itself (and a little 'ha!' from Lilith), there it is: painkillers are open. Lilith pops an ibuprofen and hops off the dumpster just as the sound of all the chaos grows steadily louder and louder.]

I dunno about you guys, but all this infection nonsense is giving me a real headache. So, hey: entertain me. I still gotta get home, or find a shop nobody's hit up for snacks yet.

[Just as Lilith's beginning to turn a shimmering blue-purple and translucent, she grins wide for the camera and cuts the feed.]

iomnic

Hello, world!

[Oh, who's this guy?? Surely not someone any of you have met before!! JK, there's his username, slapped on the post like it always is. But this guy's a human!! Surely there's an explanation for this!!]

This is Zenyatta. If we have met before, then you might notice I am looking very different! If we have not, I do not typically look like this. I am typically an omnic- or as you might better know, a robot.

For the most recent mission, we have the assignment of "blending in" with the population. I thought this could be an opportunity for me to learn what it would be like to live as a human.

That is also where I could use some assistance. I am still becoming accustomed to human lifestyle, but there are many things that are new to me. For example, I have noticed there are certain rules about clothing most humans follow, but it was not exactly something I thought too much about as an omnic. I typically did not wear shirts, but it seems that this might be more of a necessity, as a human?

[As are socks. Shoes. Underwear.]

Another question I have- how do humans know when they are allergic to things? How do I run some sort of diagnosis to ascertain what I should avoid?

I am sure there are much more I have yet to discover, but some guidance would be appreciated.

slapfight

Since we have our new marching orders, and are preparing to depart relatively soon, I feel as if I should go on record admitting my one weakness.

[she makes an agitated noise.] I'm not good at blending in.

[she holds up her hands, suddenly excited.]

But! But I have learned that the one thing that sets me apart is that I'm considered to be very funny. So by using my natural gift for comedy, I will surely keep the natives off guard while we plan out our strategies.

The problem is I don't have many jokes. The one about the chicken, while hilarious, will probably lose its charm after awhile, so in the name of preserving teamwork, I ask of you, my fellow Audentes, to give me, the great and lovable Peridot, your best jokes.

whatshimadayou

Captain Luffy is no longer with us.

Although he did inform me, I do not trust his ability to remember properly in order to have informed everyone he needed to. So I speak on his behalf, in case he did fail to.

However much of the crew remains, I am yours, if needed.

That is all. I will otherwise return to my duties.

araigneedusoir

[She's been listening and watching more than actively participating as of late, so this is her first real time addressing the network as a whole since she joined up. She's away from the group -- but not far, as evidenced by the layout of Perdition's Rest visible behind her -- and high up, obviously keeping watch.

Someone has to.

It takes her a few seconds to gather her thoughts fully, having been mulling over all the information that's come to light...and various people's opinions on what they should do next. Of course that's not her topic of discussion, at least not yet.]

I know I wasn't the only one looking for answers after the Saloon burned down. I'm curious to know if anyone else found or heard anything interesting.

[She holds up a shard of glass she'd found in her search -- the bowl she'd discovered as well has been left with the Sheriff for safe keeping, all she wanted was a single piece -- balancing it between two of her fingers.]

This is a piece of a glass bowl that I found hidden under the beds in the employee quarters. [Though she spent the entire time in there worried something was going to fall apart on her.] According to the Good Sheriff she found one of these bowls outside the church around the time the late Reverend left to join the Deemers. The glass itself isn't something the Qorral use in their everyday life, which means it potentially has connections to the Taraxa.

[With that she carefully slips the shard of glass into the pouch she'd been keeping it in.]

heavyhitter

hey guys guess what: blankets!!! me and TF to the fucking rescue, we rustled up like 40 of these bad boys
super cozy, some nice patterns. one of them has a robot wolf on it
it was also all entirely legal

they're ALMOST free, all you gotta do is tell me a story then come get one (i'm by those spiky ass fat plants that bleed if you knock them over)

also since i have 40 and there's more than 40 of us, i guess also pick someone to get cozy with

forcevisions

[ Everyone's camping. That's fun, isn't it? Well, before people get ahead of themselves, there's some more news that's waiting. Following Keith and Rey's conversation—and Keith being set right about their shared misconceptions thanks to some clarifications from ALASTAIR—they've finally regrouped enough for … this. If you've ever wondered how good Keith is at sharing information, it's probably along the lines of "not good."

So, this should be good, basically. (At least he has Rey to back him up.)

The two of them are sitting side by side on the outskirts of camp so that they can make their announcement undisturbed. Keith's sporting a warmer jacket and Rey was all but swallowed in the hood of her ALASTAIR uniform, which fit ill now in the light of the doubts that the holodisc shed on them.

After a beat of them … sitting there, Keith awkwardly clears his throat in what sounds like an ineffectual manner: ]

Uh, hey. We have something to tell you all today. [ A beat. Another beat. He glances toward Rey, as if he suddenly feels like she's the one who should talk.

While Rey clearly doesn’t appreciate the hand-off, her shoulders rustling as she composes herself, she can’t deny the responsibility. She directs her gaze towards him for a moment, wrestling with something, before she relents. ]

I made a mistake. [ It seems the simplest place to start when most of them had seen precisely what happened with the Reverend. ] We need to make sure that none of you repeat it. When I killed … [ She can’t muster that admission, not properly, not in this context. So she starts again. ] When the Reverend died, something came out of him. Some kind of parasite.

[ Right, he knows Rey's body language enough to realize where he should probably help. If if were anyone else, that might not be the case, but somehow, they've become friends. It's an odd thing for him, and when she finishes speaking, he preps himself. All right, he can do this. He can do this. ]

The parasite is called the Taraxa. I didn't get a chance to look at a holodisc I found until after the fighting war over, and um, I'm sorry for not coming forward sooner. We wanted to check back with ALASTAIR first. [ He pauses here, but briefly. ]

Anyway, the Taraxa are supposed to be a peaceful group now. They've worked with ALASTAIR via some temporary hosts as spies, but obviously, none of us would call the Deemers peaceful. Rey and I don't know what happened, or if these are some … special branch that decided to go rogue. I don't know. But I think we've got a bigger mess to deal with here than just the mines and mining. [ He offers Rey a brief glance. Keith can't even begin to guess what the Deemers are really doing. He can't. But between the fires and disappearances, he figures they can't just ignore this. ]

They’re also supposed to have hosts that they build instead of steal, but that’s obviously not the case. It’s possible but dangerous to communicate with them because they follow a hivemind they consider their Mother, which is red instead of ... [ Grimly, she raises the dessicated carcass of the beige slug she’d evinced from the Reverend’s corpse. It seemed an odd thing, now, to hold onto it like some kind of trophy, but she hadn’t been ready to let it go, as if holding onto the horror of what she had done. ] Though there’s no clear way to tell when you’re dealing with a Mother while she’s in a host, as far as I can tell.

Until we know more, travel in pairs, and try to avoid lethal force; the Deemers aren’t acting of their own free will.

Or … their hosts aren't, anyway. I guess it's really the same thing, huh? Most importantly, if you have a way of scanning people's brains, let us know. It wasn't clear in the file how to stop them exactly, but heat and salt seem like our best bets. Uh, death and decapitation work, too, but I think we're gonna try to avoid that from now on.

[ Sulky silence quieted Rey, on that note, and she ended the transmission abruptly. ]

[ ooc; if it isn't clear, Rey and Keith. ]

construing

[ the video opens on the white masked face and large pink eyes of one spider-woman ( secretly gwendolyn stacy. ) nothing else about the video seems odd…except perhaps for the way her pink-and-blue web-lined hood hangs around her head almost as if she were actually upside down ( she is. )

nothing else is weird. at all. ]

Greetings, Audentes. For those who don't know me, I'm your resident Spider-Woman. That's first name "Spider," last name "Woman," middle initial "hyphen." With that out of the way, I interrupt your daily routine to bring you this.

[ gwen flips her hand, seemingly pulling a scratched piece of holodisc out of midair. ( yes, she practiced that move. ) it vanishes from view as she holds it near the magitek. but the garbled audio is captured without problem. ]

--the core. Instability will result in-- --for this reason, we have--

[ gwen waits a few seconds so the message stands alone before proceeding. ]

Now, I don't know about you, but to me that sounds like the opposite of good. And considering all the holes and earthquakes and the earth generally being like nah to being stepped on around here, I'm guessing this planet thinks the same thing.

I also know my friend and I weren't the only ones who ran out to find more of these. [ the exaggerated friendliness with which she usually speaks tapers off into something more solemn. even the eyes of the mask narrow slightly. because masks do this. ] This planet was abandoned a thousand years ago for a reason. It's looking like we're going to discover that reason on our own. I prefer to do my research first so if anyone's found more of these messages, time to share with the class.

(( ooc: feel free to use this post to threadjack to your heart's content! ))

dbag

Hi, guys! Okay, so, I got a present the other day, and it gave me an idea — a really good one, if I do say so myself — and I think— okay, I need to sort of introduce you to it a little bit first, just hang tight. How many of you have heard ooof... tabletop?

[ He holds up a big rule book; STRAP IN, FOLKS, IT'S ABOUT TO GET CRUNK IN HERE. ]

It's called 'Bunkers and Badasses' and it's a cool game for cool people, don't let anybody tell you otherwise. You pick the class you want to play in the party and their ability scores, and you go on an adventure and fight monsters and roll dice to see how successful you are! And, you know, I was thinking, it's not like there's a lot of fun stuff to do around here, and we're probably going to be here a while, sooo... anyone up for an exciting game of B&B? It has to be a small group so not everyone can play, but maybe if it goes well we can do it again sometime?

So, uh, let me know if you're interested, and. I... really hope someone is interested.

flashbanging

[ Having seen off his squidge into the wild blue yonder of this planet, Jesse reckons it's at last time for him to truly enjoy a guilt-free smoke. He's sitting by a clear, bubbling stream, legs stretched out, bionic hand draped over one knee. He's got a fresh cigarillo--one of his last--in his good hand, and he's grinning like the cat who ate the canary. ]

Hey, y'all. Them ALASTAIR folks made me magic.

[ He obviously thinks this is one of the greatest things that's ever happened to him. He pulls off his glove--there's a flash of a tattoo on his inner wrist, something vaguely skull-shaped--and he pops the cigarillo into his mouth. He arches both eyebrows in a 'Check this out' kind of way as he touches his index finger to the tip of the cigarillo, which ignites shortly thereafter. Jesse puffs, exhaling a cloud of rich, hazy smoke. ]

Fine as frog hair split three ways.

[ Puff. ]

'Course, I know it ain't nothin' compared to a lot of you, but I don't got much personal experience with makin' things happen just by thinking on em real hard. And speaking of ...

[ He flexes his good arm, wincing slightly. He drawls, his warm tones turned sheepish. ]

Turns out, wrestlin' with bonafide Greek god-damn legends wasn't the greatest idea I ever had. My muscles are still screaming something awful. I'd be much obliged if one of you would take a look. Especially if you got those healing hands.

[ He settles back on the grass, smoking the cigarillo, and reaches to adjust his serape--but his fingers glow magma red. A second later, the serape starts to hiss and burn. ]

Ah--damn it--not again--

[ As the image cuts, he's diving for that stream. ]

grunehexe

[If you've ever seen an illegal cam recording from the back row of a theater, you are familiar with the style of this broadcast.

Observe, (as best you can), the players upon the stage. The stage being the cave in which many of them have taken shelter from the storm outside, specifically a large, flat rock, at which two fine male specimens you may recognize as Achilles, son of Peleus, and a certain McCree, locked in the midst of a fierce... arm wrestling battle.

Bare arm muscles flexing, beads of sweat dripping, jaws gritting, knuckles white and shaking, eyes narrowed in concentration and competition, testosterone veritably sparking in the air... as two very fit grown men have it out in a no holds barred thirst-fanning battle of the bulges. Arm muscle bulges.

You might catch glimpse of the lovely referee, (blond, very appropriately serious about judging this contest, thanks, Riza), and hear snatches of people rooting for a particular candidate, (the broadcaster herself seems to favor Achilles, if "steel yourself for victory, Achilles!" is any indication), but mostly this is about enjoying a good man on man test of strength.

Until, that is, a voice can be heard.]

- Are you recording that?

[The video sadly? and promptly goes black as the magitek jewelry is clutched to a bosom in scandalous retort.]

Is it not a sight worth sharing? For posterity, you see-

[And apparently she thought it best to post... for posterty. What? Any lady or inclined fella unfortunate enough to not see it go down surely wouldn't want to miss the show... ?]

selfimage

[ the sound of the wind storm hollows dully against the cave walls. Loki's squidge, Bacon, can half be seen crawling in the confines of his tacky green jacket and over his knee from where he sits, sometimes ducking and squeaking when a particularly large gust hits. to keep it from screaming, Loki offers his fingers absently, which the little squidge pulls on with its pudgy arms before ducking low again. ]

Hello there, it seems like we'll be waiting this out for some time considering the weather-type circumstances. While we're all rotting away, etcetera etcetera, I thought we could amuse ourselves with a game. A little bit of team bonding funtimes, so to say. [ he twists a dark nailed hand in the air, gesturing. ]

Soo—oo ... it's called Two Truths and a Lie. How do you play? Glad you asked, it's simple! Give two true statements about yourself and add a lie to the mix, shake it up then toss it out there and see if your team members know you well enough to spot the lie.

Usually this is done with copious amounts of alcohol, but we're lacking at the moment. [ pause. ] But—ah—you could always enjoy the satisfaction of being right. It's not like we're doing much else.

NOTE | Feel free to threadjack if that's your thing!! :****

nishishi

[The feed is going to start up easier than it did last time. Looks like someone's actually learning how to use his communicator--how about that.

Either way, the face that Luffy's making this time around is a little bit unreadable. A smile is on his face, but somehow, if you're someone used to the sort of expression this man usually makes--it's clear that there's something not quite right with it.

Even if the tone that lights up the speakers is a bright one.]

Everyone been having fun yet? It's been messy, right? I hope no-one got too hurt when it came to the big ugly swamp monster. [After all, he'd gotten quite beaten up by it. Look at the bandages and scrapes on his hands and face.]

Even if you did, there's lots'a people here to fix you up, Like Torao. But anyway.

Have any of you seen Ace? My brother. He's always flying ahead of me when we go on adventures together, and he did it again this time around. So I think he got lost.

I'm sure we'll find him when the mission's over, but you know!!
It's not fair, I wanted to be the one who got ahead this time.

[He's so steeped in denial, it might hurt to hear. Sorry.]

iomnic

[The video starts up, revealing ... a robot. He's floating, as well. Sure hope you all were okay with non-human things.]

Greetings.

[Said robot gives a small wave towards the feed, his voice sounding thoughtful, but slightly metallic and echoed. His expression also doesn't change either, and in fact, there's no movement at all on his face. Both a product of being a robot, one might realize. ]

My name is Zenyatta.

[And now, he reaches out to turn the communicator slightly, pointing it down just enough to show a squidge, curiously looking up. ]

And this is Aadarsh.

[Back to Zenyatta now;]

I have been informed by ALASTAIR that we will be working together to raise these small creatures. I look forward to meeting all of you in person, and hope that the path we share here will be one of peace.

backthatup

This is odd. To say the least.

The intentions sound much like those of a group I have come to know and care for, but I cannot help but wonder if that is as far as it goes. They would never force anyone to partake in missions that they did not want to themselves. Regardless of the reasons. That is not their way. But I am being rude and speaking of what I am seeing first rather than through understanding. They do not sound like they are "bad people," and it is not as though I am not speaking to the choir, yes?

Still, I write these words down with the hope my feelings will change in time. I hope to look back at these words and find them to be false. That way if others come with these same feelings that I will have an answer for them that will speak to the doubt and uncertainty that I feel now and will most like be mirrored in them. I write, too, my name.

I am Genji. Pleasure to meet you.

whatshimadayou

Some observations I have made of the little ones:

- They will only bond to one person at a time, it seems. Supplementing a caretaker will only work so long. Once one of them bond, you must guide them.
- With that in mind, they seem to do better in groups. It might be suitable for them to socialize with each other more in order to grow as a community. I was able to cross the chasm when mine had the company of another.
- They learn quickly and will adapt your behaviors into their own, much like any infant.

I do not doubt that many of you have concluded much the same.
However, I intend to share what I have noticed for those who might not have drawn the same conclusions.

I would like to hear what you have observed as well.

If you require assistance, inform me.

flashbanging

[ The video shows a table in some corner of Oska's kitchen. There's a man at this table, long legs propped up on top of it, reclining against his chair. He's wearing boots with spurs, leather chaps, and a red serape that hangs off of his left shoulder. Body armor covers his chest; the panels inlaid on either side glow faintly blue. He's holding a revolver of significant size with one gloved hand, and with the other, he's carefully polishing oil off of that revolver's barrel. That other hand is bionic, and also covered in faintly glowing panels. The prosthetic runs up the visible length of his arm and disappears into the shroud of the serape.

He grins into the feed from beneath the wide brim of his hat. In his late thirties and handsomely rugged, he's swarthy, with thick, brown hair and dark eyes. His voice is a deep, southern drawl--affable, but with a suggestion of something sharper just beneath. A cigarillo, lit and gently smoking, dangles from the corner of his mouth. ]

Well, now. I'm findin' this place right peaceful. I got to say it's nice to walk around without worryin' over a bounty on my head, so I ain't too sore at these ALASTAIR fellas for pluckin' me out my own place like a ripe peach.

[ He jerks one metal thumb at the table. A few gleaming revolver shells are scattered across the wooden surface, nicely framing a half-finished tumbler of bourbon. ]

Bourbon ain't too bad, neither.

[ He sits up and leans forward, setting the gun down next to the glass; as he does so, there's a glimpse of his belt--strung with more revolver bullets and cinched with a gold buckle. The letters 'B A M F' are clearly engraved on this buckle. ]

'Sides, it's a job like any other. I done escorts before. Granted, they usually been human. Sometimes omnic. Never whatever the hell these things are tryin' to be. But if it's got to get done, it's gonna get done, right? Right.

[ He puffs on the cigarillo, exhaling a long plume of white smoke. ]

Oh, yeah. I had a look see at this here device, flicked through the archive a bit. Noticed some talk about learnin' this or that. I ain't handy with a sword, but if you need a man to show you how to shoot, I'm your huckleberry. I know my way around a fist-fight, too, if it comes to that. Ask and ye shall receive.

[ His smile widens, warms. This is still a hell of an unfamiliar situation, but he's damned and determined to make the best of it. ]

Name's McCree, by the way. Pleased t'meet you.

[ He tips his hat, and that's all, folks. ]

FUTUROLOGY NETWORK.

Entries tagged with jesse mccree (overwatch)

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