MURDERWORLD [mod plot] [Reunion/Rescue]

[letsgolegion]

Who| Everyone who wants in
What| The reunion/rescue of the folks in Murderworld
Where| The Temperate Zone
When| Day 3, at the very end of the arena
Warnings/Notes|

Thanks to the heroes that broke into Arcade's control room, the arena was officially over, and now that the Science Police and Legion had been contacted, people were being gathered up in an area in the temperate Zone and being extracted by portable threshold gates. A first aid station had been set up to triage those who needed immediate emergency care and patch up what injuries they could to hold people over until they got home.

Grief counselors were already on standby to help the Legionnaires and Harrubian dissidents and their families deal with the crisis they had just faced.

Arcade had already been taken away by the Science Police to face trial for multi-murder, and while some of the raw footage of the arena had already been uploaded to the UP internet, the Legionnaires had made the best of a bad situation.

The fact of the matter was every Legionnaire that had been kidnapped had survived. Arcade had been stopped. Almost all of Arcade's "Tributes" had been killed or detained by the Legionnaires and some of the Harubbian dissidents. The arena had ended on Day 3 instead of Day 30, which had saved dozens of lives. And the upload of the raw footage had been stopped mid-stream so that only a few people would have to deal with their ordeal becoming public knowledge.

Now it was time for friends and teammates to reunite and for everyone to head back to the safety of Legion World.

[ooc: Anyone can start a thread, regardless of whether they're a Legionnaire that was in the arena, or a Legionnaire outside the arena checking up on their friends.]

Comments

[good_bamf_ugly]

There's a pause. A very long pause as McCree narrows his eyes. There's a lot of questions now.

"...I think I'd know if a literal walking wall of muscle and beard was in the vicinity." So, no, didn't catch whatever Reinhardt would have said.

Better question, "Who in the hell are you?"

[mylawn]

Maybe McCree hasn't been here all that long--hasn't had a chance to run into the others yet. Better for him, he guesses. 76 still doesn't want to come clean, but he'll take the chance to do it on his own terms.

He doesn't say anything, just bends a little to bring both his hands up to either side of his mask. The glow of the visor fades as it detaches, and he lets it fall to his side before he looks up. It's been a few years, and he certainly isn't the man he once was, but McCree will know.

[good_bamf_ugly]

fuck you, you old mother fucker i thought you were dead

half your hair definitely died

you look like shit

[good_bamf_ugly]

It takes some squinting and it's clear in McCree's widening brown eyes when the realization hits. He tips the underside of his hat up just to make sure he's taking it all in. He doesn't want to believe his eyes but they're certainly not deceiving him.

Maybe. He should probably double check that.

He closes the distance and mutters his name first and foremost, like it's a secret to keep. "...Jack?"

[mylawn]

76 lets the realization happen, waiting patiently and keeping the mask off the whole time. He'll give McCree as long as he needs, though it doesn't seem like it takes more than a moment or two. He tries not to flinch when Jesse closes the distance, fighting down the urge to take two steps away for every step he takes forward.

"What's left of him."

To his credit, he stays where he is, letting McCree get a good look, waiting for the shock to give way to anger. He can't say he doesn't deserve it--but he has some questions for Jesse, too.

[good_bamf_ugly]

McCree's not shy about letting the emotions play out on his face, like he's just taken down a mask for both of them; his brow twists with confusion and his nose scrunches up between disbelief and disgust. The shock eventually gives way to anger than then something a little less identifiable, maybe something like disappointment.

It's not enough to spare 76 from McCree from wanting to make absolutely sure whatever is left of Jack is still physically there.

He's getting a quick little punch in the forehead.

[mylawn]

He supposes that, if he really wanted to, he could easily dodge the blow--with all of his augmentations came enhanced reflexes, after all. Avoiding the punch doesn't even take any thought. It's standing there and taking it that requires conscious effort.

Not that it really hurts. 76 staggers back a few steps anyway, blinking away the stars and rubbing a hand across his forehead.

"Guess I deserved that."

He otherwise doesn't seem to be very apologetic.

[good_bamf_ugly]

He expected a dodge or even for a hand to whip up and clamp around his wrist, then pull it tight like he was to reprimand a misbehaving child; a stray dog and a hooligan, like he started out as. Getting the punch off is however entirely satisfying. It makes his knuckles sting with pain and gives solidarity to the phantom of a man standing before him.

"Guess you did." Now McCree isn't sure how to feel. He took that tap willingly. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised." Oddly, he's not. Not at this.

"You're supposed to be dead." Like he didn't know. "What in the hell happened to you?"

[mylawn]

Though the more logical part of him insists that there would have been nothing to be done even with advance knowledge of Gabriel's mutiny plans, the part of him that still believes he could have fixed things has some complicated feelings about Jesse McCree. The fact that he ran off with potentially vital information has always weighed heavy on him, to the point where he's not sure how guilty he should feel about faking his own death when McCree might have been able to prevent it in the first place.

"Takes more than something like that to kill me."

Even if it very nearly had--even if he still maintains that some vital part of him did die. McCree will realize that soon enough, he thinks.

[good_bamf_ugly]

He frowns. No, it didn't kill Jack Morrison, but...

"Overwatch died that day." Definitively.

"Felt it comin'." He admits softly, like some secret he kept buried in his heart all these years despite making it blatantly obvious he felt the creeping dread of the organization's death on the horizon and wasn't about to stick around to be swallowed whole by it. For whatever that was worth.

[mylawn]

"You left."

If McCree thought that 76 forgot about that, he'd be sorely mistaken. It's easy enough for that particular detail to fall by the wayside when he's consumed with every other aspect of his mission, but face-to-face with Jesse again, it's hard not to think about.

"What did you know that I didn't?"

[good_bamf_ugly]

It's hard for McCree to parse out if there's any accusatory tone in Jack's voice, or if that's Soldier 76 speaking under the guise of a mission. It's likely to be a sore subject so McCree treads carefully, voice soft and sentences formed with care.

"Didn't know... that would happen." Something short of a nuclear meltdown of Overwatch with Jack and Reyes on opposite sides.

I knew there were years worth of resentment behind what he did." Maybe Jack didn't see it for whatever reasons--the constant and looming press, all the red tape, balancing the public image. All that external garbage Jack had to manage which kept his eyes off what was going on internally. McCree saw that, but too little too late to do a damn thing about it.

"There was... talk about settling it." He admits. "Coup kinds of talk. I didn't want any part of it."

[mylawn]

"So you ran. You didn't think to tell me."

Not that he thinks McCree would ever want to be under witness protection, which would have been the logical progression of events. McCree likely knew that; knew he'd have to testify against Gabriel and perhaps didn't want to out of loyalty to the man he used to be. But 76 imagines that Jack wouldn't have been angry if the situation was explained to him. Could have anticipated the mutiny a little better if someone on the inside had alerted him to how wrong things really were.

It's all easier to say in hindsight, however, as loath as he is to admit it. 76 still thinks that he could have prevented the disaster that Overwatch became, even if that meant taking the fall to save others the grief. He knows now that it wasn't just Blackwatch--it was Talon, too, and maybe even the UN, so McCree is right. Admitting that is hard.

"I would've got you out of there."

[good_bamf_ugly]

He tips his hat to hide his eyes. It's questionable if it's a shame-filled gesture because what is plainly visible is the grit of teeth forcing a bitter-sweet smirk.

"Don't kid yourself. An ex-gang member like me? I'd be the first loose end to get rid of that no one would miss. That's a fool's errand." It's not like McCree didn't think about being a whistle blower. It's not like he didn't think about every option available to him. The problem was all of them sucked. There was no winning with that.

"Overwatch was a sinking ship. If it wasn't that... woulda' been something else." He thinks 76 already has (or had, prior to being called into this Legion business) an inkling of that, if his mysterious crusade is any indication.

It's a heavy subject to think about and weighs as such on his heart as much as it does on his shoulders. It pulls the smirk right down.

[mylawn]

"I would've kept you safe."

Not in the way McCree wanted to be. More realistically, if he'd tried to blow the whistle on Blackwatch in anything but a perfectly calculated way, he would've brought Reyes' wrath right down on his head. It all could have been much, much worse, and Jack understands that running was probably the only thing he felt he could do. If it wasn't that...it would have been something else. The UN built them to fail, he knows that now.

Doesn't change the 'what ifs' he runs over and over in his head. It's easier to keep taking the blame when he can convince himself that there was something he could have done.

"Would've ended either way, but maybe not the way it did."

With a body count.

[good_bamf_ugly]

Even if McCree didn't like the way Blackwatch was going, there was no question any whistle blowing on his part would have been betraying the closest thing to a family he'd since come to know. Deadlock was a den of thieves with little honor among them, and when presented with options, few and shitty that they were, he had to turn his back on them too. Turning his back on Overwatch meant a lot more, however.

"If you don't mind me asking, what happened that day?" The climactic showdown that McCree didn't stick around to see. He's vaguely asking what happened to you, but he wouldn't expect a straight answer even if it asked it straight.

[mylawn]

He arches an eyebrow to indicate that he doesn't appreciate being asked a question like that, but he supposes he owes McCree an answer.

"Don't remember much."

Not of the actual fight and resulting carnage. He attributes that to trauma. Most of the aftermath is intact, however--pulling himself out of the wreckage and feeling more like a wounded animal than a person. Feeling that the only thing he could do is get out and get away, try to process just how things managed to get to this point.

And then, when the dust cleared, he realized that maybe the world didn't need him after all. He remembers watching his memorial service on television.

"Once I realized what happened, seemed better to stay dead. Let everyone get on with their lives."

[good_bamf_ugly]

"Well you sure did a damn good job convincing everybody." McCree spits with more spite than he expected, and he knows he's certainly not one to talk. Seeing Overwatch fall in a flaming wreck was painful enough, seeing empty coffins of people he considered family was enough to convince him he had only one choice to make, and that there was no going back from it.

But then this asshole showed up, a literal ghost of the past. McCree supposes the twisting knot of grief in his gut never completely went away, especially the longer he spent time alone and the only company he had to keep were memories and ghosts, but maybe another part of him was never completely willing to think it was completely over. The Recall certainly proved that right at the very least.

"Now everyone's gettin' on with their lives." This seems like an opportune time--or maybe an opportune need--for a cigar and he pulls one out of an unseen chest pocket.

Despite his tone, he's able to find a twisted humor in it all and ho-hums as he lights up. "Funny how that works out, mm?"

[mylawn]

"That was the idea."

Why fake your death if you're going to half-ass it? Still, Jack catches the spite in McCree's voice, and he can't honestly blame him for it. He'd holed up in a safe house and watched while all of his friends were put through grueling UN tribunals as Overwatch was dismantled. He'd told himself through all of it that they'd persevere. That a hearing was not the worst thing that could happen to them. That they were all still alive, they wouldn't be dragged down with him, and soon it would all be over. All he ever wanted was to keep his people safe.

But it seems old habits die hard for everyone, if what Winston did is any indication.

"You didn't answer the Recall, did you?"

[good_bamf_ugly]

There's a grunt of questioning like McCree hadn't heard him, or was pretending for a moment not to. He was frankly stalling, if for just a moment to appreciate the comfort of heady smoke as it swirled in his mouth.

A moment short-lived before McCree gestured flippantly with his hand, trailing smoke in the air. He's conducting an orchestra and has no idea what song to play.

"Yes and no." He finally says, like he knew the answer all along. Did it really matter now that they had, apparently, much bigger problems to worry about with Legion?

"Don't need Winston's blessings to enact justice as it's needed." He exhaled in 76's general direction, like the smoke would do him some good. "You know I can't keep away from that."

[mylawn]

"Explains the bounty."

76 isn't surprised, though he has to admit that he's a bit relieved to know that McCree hasn't answered. Not that it matters much when they're all stuck here, but it's the principle of the thing, he guesses. He tried his best to keep them all safe, to let them get on with their lives, but they all go back to fighting for truth and justice and whatever else because he was the one who made them that way in the first place.

"Couldn't just get on with things, could you?"