fantasmaniac: ɢʜᴏsᴛ — "ᴄɪʀɪᴄᴇ" (※ ғʀᴏᴍ ɴᴏᴡ ᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴇʀɢᴇ ɪs ᴇᴛᴇʀɴᴀʟ)
un muerto en vida ([personal profile] fantasmaniac) wrote in [community profile] legionmissions 2017-01-11 01:57 am (UTC)

They're both so careful to not out themselves in front of the other. It would've made Reaper laugh, honestly. A good, honest to God laugh. It's just too bad all that's going through his contorted brain right now is a series of impulses telling him to devour everything in sight.

The eye holes of his mask now turned eye sockets gaze at them calmly, stretching this moment on way longer than it should, unintentionally making the silence as uncomfortable and unnerving as possible. Heat signatures, he can feel them, see them— brilliant red orbs within his line of sight. The sight he sees could easily be described as looking through a heat sensor.

He can't hear what they're saying, not really. The sound is there but the comprehension is gone. It's only when he has the clear picture that he breaks into a full-on charge. Quiet as a stale breeze only moments ago, he now thunder down the corridor as the fleshy bits occasionally cushioning their footsteps give away to a sleek metal flooring. The walls warp into familiar plates of steel, the sound of a muted explosion in the distance ripping a pained howl from Reaper as he nears.

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