The demon cocks his head to the side, watchful eyes not blinking once.
“You would sacrifice them all for just a chance at killin’ me?”
He sounds almost impressed, and far from concerned. The lives of the mortals nearby are nothing to him, and he knows Hanzo isn’t back to his full strength. Not after that last bite. Any fight they wage will end in his favor. Nothing gained, but also nothing lost.
“At least give a fella a chance to say his piece before you go tryin’ to murder him right off the bat. Besides, do I look like I want to kill you right now? I even got you breakfast.”
"You've told me what you had to say, before you attacked me," he snaps in retort. Yet he holds his ground, rather than advance. Perhaps he realizes the odds are stacked against him, or perhaps some part of him can't help but be curious.
One thing is certain. He would absolutely sacrifice those innocents in this building, and the next, and the next, if it meant killing the creature that took Jesse from existence.
Demons are all about giving people what they want. They’re generous like that. It’s not their fault that humans are so often reckless in their greed, wagering things they really can’t stand to lose. So the question here is: what does Hanzo Shimada want? What bargaining chip would be most effective to bend him to a demon’s will just now?
The answer is clear, but it’s a gamble. It involves revealing his hand, if only in part. But the payoff…
“I needed the blood, and you weren’t exactly in a generous sort of mood, were you?” The light in his hand flickers out, and he folds his arms casually over his chest. “But I think we can come to an understanding, you and I. Just hear me out first. The choice is yours in the end. Your brother, Genji… he’s demon-touched too, isn’t he?”
Never hurts to remind Hanzo just how many different ways this can go, should he be stubborn.
“He’s a different sort though. Not like me. Answer me this, Hanzo—when a demon like me makes a bargain with a mortal like Jesse McCree—mortal at the time, anyhow—what is it they bind themselves to?”
At first Hanzo just remains bristled, trying to work out in his mind the best method of attack while the demon speaks. Let it distract itself, carrying on as much as it likes. He doesn't intend to listen, only to take the opportune moment when it presents itself.
Then comes the realization of those last words, striking deep and sudden as...well. An arrow to the chest.
"...the soul."
Now, he has his attention. His shoulders brace in resolve, even as his weight subtly settles back into his heels.
The change in Hanzo is subtle, but notable. Good. Means he might think twice about lashing out without listening.
“If his soul wasn’t still in here, I wouldn’t be either. Even after the body dies, if the soul remains…” He looks down at his right hand, devoid of pulse, and flexes his fingers. “So does the contract, and everybody tied up in it. So you kill me, you free us both… and I get to have his soul right and proper, like I should’ve from the start.”
At least, if the demon is telling the truth. It could be lying, saying whatever it thinks might stop him from tearing him out of that body with bloodied claws.
But it makes sense. Of course the demon ties itself to the soul, in the hopes that it can be there to collect when that mortal dies.
"...what do you want from me?" he grinds out at last, fingers curling tensely at his side. Feeding from him to escape, dragging him along, then giving him that poor attendant to feed on...does he intend to simply keep him at hand, like some personal juicebox? Feeding off of that power to do whatever he pleases?
“Nothin’ you can’t spare. Bet you already guessed the one thing.”
Of course he wants access to Hanzo’s blood. Now that he’s seen what he can do with it, felt that rush, he won’t give it up.
“But I can be fair. I won’t make you bleed daily. You can feel it, can’t you? What that bite does to you?” He looks down at Hanzo’s chest, as if he can see straight through to the chill beneath, and shakes his head. “Nah. Once a month should do me just fine, and keep you from trippin’ headfirst into the void by accident. But there’s more to you than just the blood. And a pretty face.”
He winks, taking a step forward as his voice drops. Deep, smooth, downright tempting under other circumstances, perhaps. “You’ve got other strengths… ones I can use. One night a month, I want you at my side. Followin’ my orders. In exchange, I’ll give you a hint. Start you off on the path to finding out how to save your fledgling’s soul.”
It’s not a fair deal at all with those terms. He’s asking for too much for too little. Giving himself far too much leeway. Only question is if Hanzo will try to bargain.
Well, it's good to know he's at least able to anticipate this much. His senses haven't entirely left him, and he has some idea now of the creature's endgame. If he cared to roll the dice with Jesse's soul, he could play him. Use his position to give either Overwatch or Talon a fighting chance at taking him down once and for all.
Genji could be trusted with such a task, perhaps.
But the gamble means that Jesse could wind up being dragged to whatever Hell this beast resides in, subject to his torments for eternity. That, he cannot abide.
"And what do you intend to do with the rest of the days of the month?" he presses on, nostrils flaring as he keeps himself in check. For now.
An interesting question. The demon keeps his eyes locked on Hanzo, watching. Assessing. Considering. The subtle art of the bargain is one he enjoys, and he takes pride in doing it well. The key is understanding the other party, their motivations and fears. What could Hanzo be thinking now? He’d been willing to sacrifice all the mortal souls in proximity a moment ago. Does he fear what chaos the demon night unleash on the world?
“Considerin’ I’ve been locked up in this body for upwards of two decades now…” His grin goes wide. “Whatever the hell I want, I reckon.”
"And I am to sit by and let you act on whatever evil lurks in your heart? I would never. Nor would Jesse wish such a thing."
Deals and bargains are not his forte. He prefers to keep things as straightforward as possible, as his arrangement with Jesse had been. Now it's a different sort of deal, meant to keep this thing in check until he could find a way to free Jesse from its grasp.
"I will agree to your terms...but only if you live by our creed for the remaining days of the month. Hunt monsters, hunt other vampires if you must, but no harm will come to the innocents in your path. And when that day comes where I must serve you, then I will. My bow and my powers will be yours, without argument."
The demon listens with the barest hint of a frown. He hadn’t expected that, but it also isn’t a setback. Or not much of one anyway. Having any sort of restriction put on him isn’t ideal, but it’s part and parcel of bargaining, and he’s still got plenty of freedom to do as he pleases.
And if he should tire of it, he could always kill Hanzo. The agreement doesn’t rule that out. Not that he’s liable to, not anytime soon… but they do have the rest of eternity. Things could change.
“Not bad, archer. Not bad at all.” He blinks, and his eyes are back to black. When he speaks, his voice echoes strangely within the confines of the bedroom.
“The terms are set, Hanzo Shimada. We agree of our own volition to enter this pact, and so it will bind us both.”
This is the least he has sounded like Jesse since this started, the accent stripped away, his voice flat. A warm breeze stirs the air around them as he holds out a hand to shake on it, palm radiating the same heat Hanzo might remember from the demon fire back at Talon. Or from Jesse, whenever he’d use Deadeye.
It is surrendering himself to an unknown element. And he knows whatever the demon asks of him will likely be bloody work. But he has no choice. It is this, or know that Jesse is lost forever, and he could have done something about it.
He lives with enough ghosts, enough regrets.
Jaw set, he lifts his hand, taking hold of the demon's and feeling that heat roll flush through him. It's a familiar thing, and for a moment he recalls the deserts of the American southwest, on those long nights rolling through the wilderness with only the headlamps of their vehicle to guide them.
For you, I will do this. I will find a way to free you, I swear it.
He can feel Hanzo’s intent, and it’s a curious thing. Selflessness. There are things a demon can’t intrinsically understand, human traits they cannot emulate aside from in exaggerated pantomime. Hanzo may not be human any longer, but his heart is still more human than perhaps he’d care to admit.
“It’s a deal then. Funny how these things work out. You helped me get the foothold I needed in this man’s heart, and now you’re fighting to save it.” He slips his hand from Hanzo’s grip with a sigh that almost sounds content. Sated.
“You’ll be wanting your hint then I reckon. You got anythin’ in particular you want to know to get you started?” He might not answer, but he’ll at least consider it.
He sees nothing funny in any of this. And he has no desire to discuss how things have changed between him and Jesse over the time they've known each other. He might have been privy to it, seen it and drawn his own conclusions, but it is not for him to comment on.
Though that does present an issue. Any move against him, any sense of intent, and the demon will know. He can simply reach across their bond and feel whatever Hanzo tries to mask or hide. Fortunately, his desire to save Jesse is no secret, not between the two of them.
His back straightens, hand drawn back to his side as soon as he is able.
"What is required? Are there physical components?" First thing's first. Give him a direction. Research he can do. Something tangible he can follow. The demon won't make it easy, but one can only hope he'll be true to his word.
Oh Hanzo, you’re no fun. All business. There’s thankfully still entertainment in considering just how solidly to put him on the hunt. A worthless hint would be most expedient, but less thrilling. He wants a little danger, is curious how close Hanzo will get before he either gives up or has to be taken out of play.
“What’s that human phrase…? Oh, yeah—” He snaps his fingers. “There’s more than one way to skin a cat. Whether or not there are physical components depends on how you want to go about it.”
Vague, but true. His favorite space to operate in.
It's better news than he thought, even if purposefully vague. It gives him a shred of hope that it's possible, and he's worked without even that before. Frowning, he considers whether to push for more before shaking his head. He's patient. He'll subsist on that for now.
"Talon will be looking for us. Likely the team that dispatched McCree as well. We will need to stay on the move to avoid them," he utters tonelessly, folding his arms over his chest. A tick, and he glances down at the body on the floor.
"And this will need to be dealt with, as well."
He can do so, but he knows the demon will want to keep tabs on him, lest he try to escape.
The demon cocks his head to the side, considering the man and the scene before him. Even now, Hanzo is thinking two steps ahead, considering the practicalities. Taking what he’s given and not demanding more. He’s not sure if he would’ve preferred the anger and begging or not. At least this is novel.
“I can take care of the body,” he says, nudging it with one foot. “But you know, I never said you had to tag along with me the rest of the month. You’re a free man, Hanzo. You wander off, you’ll know where to find me when the time comes.” For emphasis, he sends a metaphysical tug down the bond between them.
“And if you decide not to show up… that is a choice you can make. Though I wouldn’t recommend it.”
"If I return to Talon, they will not permit me to return. And I am wanted by Overwatch as well. So we are both on the run, it would appear." One eyebrow cocks higher. "And I do not trust you to keep to your word. Better I have eyes on you than let you run free."
Much as he despises the creature, he can't risk anything happening to him -- and by extension, Jesse. So it appears that they are once again stuck together.
And he will ensure the demon does not enjoy a moment of it.
Truth be told, the demon can’t break the terms of their agreement. Not without destroying his hold on Hanzo during their agreed upon once-a-month term. But if he’s busy trying to make sure the demon doesn’t sink his fangs into an innocent mortal, he’ll have less time to do his digging. It could work in the demon’s favor.
Plus he enjoys Hanzo’s discomfort, and his lingering feelings of anger and guilt. Hanzo might just come to regret this decision.
“Well then, suppose we should get movin’. Partner.” He grins as he kneels down, hoisting the dead man up by his jacket and carrying him off to the bathroom, to be burned with preternatural fire. Not even a bit of ash is left behind in the tub.
He regrets many things already. What's one more added to the pile?
Beyond that, it's his fault the demon has this supernatural body to tear through the world in, in the first place. He could not have fathomed what lay dormant in the hunter when he made his rash decision to grant him this power, in the hopes of finding someone to be his equal. Then he abandoned him to the world, to learn what he was, how to survive. He abandoned him again when it seemed he might be growing close enough to him to cause him harm...or vice versa.
No more running. Instead he forces himself to witness the unholy flame that consumes the corpse, and the eerie smile sitting on what remains of his fledgling. No. It is only fair that he be the one to watch him now.
He steals a different car from the lot on the way out. Turns out he’d picked a few pockets before Hanzo had even woken up. He’s the proud owner of several car keys, credit cards, IDs, and even some coupons and stamp cards, because why not? Like before, he chooses the sleekest, fastest model of car available. So unlike Jesse and his preference for older cars with personality.
Wherever they go, there’s a pattern: the demon likes big cities, ones crawling with people and vice. He goes where the depravity leads. A favorite pastime is cheating desperate gamblers out of things they can’t afford to lose, but that’s second only to hunting. It’s disappointing not being able to feed on the innocent, but he wrings what cruelty he can out of feeding on vampires and other creatures. His reputation—Jesse’s, rather, as a monster among monsters—is reinvigorated and only grows. It isn’t only death that awaits the unfortunates in his path. His cruelty and uncanny ability to suss out even the most well-hidden, secretive creatures puts supernatural community on-edge.
He relishes in the stories, takes pride in them like Jesse never did. To the hunter, the rumors had been an unfortunate and unavoidable side effect of what he’d become. It made laying low that much harder. The demon though, it’s almost like he feeds on the fear. On being known.
And all the while, he’s careful not to break a single one of the rules Hanzo had set. His victims are all wicked, after all, though none perhaps as wicked as him.
How could they be? While driven by selfish impulses, they are not evil incarnate. They are not spirits corrupted by Hell, born of its fires and satisfied only by how many they can draw back down to those depths with them.
Hanzo despises this thing, and how he would so love to find a way to end up. But for the the next month he holds himself in check. Hope that there will be a way to save Jesse in the end is all he has now. What does he care for the fate of the world? His obligation lies with him.
Genji would disagree. For a time, he considers reaching out to his brother, but there's still a chance his cover with Talon might be recoverable. And he can't trust that there aren't eyes somewhere in Overwatch even now, making the same moves he is.
So he stays close. Watches the demon's movements, and next to his reign of terror? Hanzo is but a shadow, a whisper of rumor. He may as well not be a presence in these cities at all, distinctive as he might be otherwise. He feeds without passion, enough to sustain himself.
And he keeps watch, as the days tick past. Until it is time to submit once more to the bargain made.
The month passes in a blur, but the demon never loses track of the calendar. The anticipation is like a spring getting wound tighter and tighter by the day, and not just in his mind—there’s a very real weight to their bargain, intent on making itself known, winding through his thoughts and down to his bones. It’s almost a physical sensation near the end. When he wakes that evening, he relishes for a moment in the tension of it. Finally, it’s time.
He rises and dresses as he always does: in something similar to how Jesse would have dressed, sans his most iconic items. No belt buckle, serape, or hat. He hadn’t had them when he left Talon, and there's no telling if they’d been in that facility or the one he’d been captured in initially. Either way, there's no getting them back now.
Peacekeeper too, most likely. That one annoys the most. That gun and him… or rather, it and Jesse and the demon by extension… they’d had a unique bond. He’s been quietly collecting firearms this past month for a reason. Not all of them can handle the things he can do, not like that six-shooter. He’ll likely go through several.
“Mornin’ Han,” he calls out, cheery as anything now that he’s dressed and looking human, right down to the eyes. “You remember what day it is, don’t you? Ready for a night on the town?”
He's refused to address him as anything else, a constant reminder that he refuses to see him as the shell he inhabits. He is a parasite to be ousted, nothing more. Those charming smiles and wiles of his are for naught.
But of course, the beast enjoys his misery. Anger is easier to surrender to him. Feast, for there is plenty to spare.
Hanzo focuses his cold black eyes on the figure at the doorway, righting his clothing as he does so.
"I assume you intend to save your meal for after you've had me do your bidding."
He turns towards Hanzo, looking downright average in his plaid and jeans. He grabs a worn black leather jacket he’d picked up while out one night, smelling of someone else’s cigarettes and blood.
“You assume right. You won’t be much use to me after that, so we should save the best for last. In the meantime—” He slips a piece of paper out of the jacket pocket, holding it out for Hanzo to come and take. “I’ve got an errand for you to run. Might be a bit under your pay grade, truth be told, but you might have some fun with it. I need to you to go pick somethin’ up for me.”
On the paper are instructions, leading Hanzo out from the city and into the desert. Not too far out. He’ll be able to get there within an hour or two. On the other side is a roughly sketched map of a building, several floors with most of them being underground. One room in particular is marked with an X.
“Get in the building, get to that room and retrieve this.” He taps his temple, mentally projecting the image of a box small enough to fit in the palm of Hanzo’s hand. It’s simple wood contrasted with intricate silverwork, every bit of undecorated space carved with sigils for both protection and containment.
“You can get in however you want. Go in through the front door, or take the sneaky route. You might be better off tryin’ not to take ‘em off-guard, though. Password's on the paper if you need it to get past security.” He slips both his hands into his jacket pockets. “I’ll stay in town and keep myself entertained, but I want you back here within an hour of dawn. Kill who you have to if things get dicey, and don’t let ‘em follow you when you leave. You got all that?”
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“You would sacrifice them all for just a chance at killin’ me?”
He sounds almost impressed, and far from concerned. The lives of the mortals nearby are nothing to him, and he knows Hanzo isn’t back to his full strength. Not after that last bite. Any fight they wage will end in his favor. Nothing gained, but also nothing lost.
“At least give a fella a chance to say his piece before you go tryin’ to murder him right off the bat. Besides, do I look like I want to kill you right now? I even got you breakfast.”
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One thing is certain. He would absolutely sacrifice those innocents in this building, and the next, and the next, if it meant killing the creature that took Jesse from existence.
It may yet come to that. They will see.
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The answer is clear, but it’s a gamble. It involves revealing his hand, if only in part. But the payoff…
“I needed the blood, and you weren’t exactly in a generous sort of mood, were you?” The light in his hand flickers out, and he folds his arms casually over his chest. “But I think we can come to an understanding, you and I. Just hear me out first. The choice is yours in the end. Your brother, Genji… he’s demon-touched too, isn’t he?”
Never hurts to remind Hanzo just how many different ways this can go, should he be stubborn.
“He’s a different sort though. Not like me. Answer me this, Hanzo—when a demon like me makes a bargain with a mortal like Jesse McCree—mortal at the time, anyhow—what is it they bind themselves to?”
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Then comes the realization of those last words, striking deep and sudden as...well. An arrow to the chest.
"...the soul."
Now, he has his attention. His shoulders brace in resolve, even as his weight subtly settles back into his heels.
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The change in Hanzo is subtle, but notable. Good. Means he might think twice about lashing out without listening.
“If his soul wasn’t still in here, I wouldn’t be either. Even after the body dies, if the soul remains…” He looks down at his right hand, devoid of pulse, and flexes his fingers. “So does the contract, and everybody tied up in it. So you kill me, you free us both… and I get to have his soul right and proper, like I should’ve from the start.”
no subject
At least, if the demon is telling the truth. It could be lying, saying whatever it thinks might stop him from tearing him out of that body with bloodied claws.
But it makes sense. Of course the demon ties itself to the soul, in the hopes that it can be there to collect when that mortal dies.
"...what do you want from me?" he grinds out at last, fingers curling tensely at his side. Feeding from him to escape, dragging him along, then giving him that poor attendant to feed on...does he intend to simply keep him at hand, like some personal juicebox? Feeding off of that power to do whatever he pleases?
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Of course he wants access to Hanzo’s blood. Now that he’s seen what he can do with it, felt that rush, he won’t give it up.
“But I can be fair. I won’t make you bleed daily. You can feel it, can’t you? What that bite does to you?” He looks down at Hanzo’s chest, as if he can see straight through to the chill beneath, and shakes his head. “Nah. Once a month should do me just fine, and keep you from trippin’ headfirst into the void by accident. But there’s more to you than just the blood. And a pretty face.”
He winks, taking a step forward as his voice drops. Deep, smooth, downright tempting under other circumstances, perhaps. “You’ve got other strengths… ones I can use. One night a month, I want you at my side. Followin’ my orders. In exchange, I’ll give you a hint. Start you off on the path to finding out how to save your fledgling’s soul.”
It’s not a fair deal at all with those terms. He’s asking for too much for too little. Giving himself far too much leeway. Only question is if Hanzo will try to bargain.
no subject
Genji could be trusted with such a task, perhaps.
But the gamble means that Jesse could wind up being dragged to whatever Hell this beast resides in, subject to his torments for eternity. That, he cannot abide.
"And what do you intend to do with the rest of the days of the month?" he presses on, nostrils flaring as he keeps himself in check. For now.
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“Considerin’ I’ve been locked up in this body for upwards of two decades now…” His grin goes wide. “Whatever the hell I want, I reckon.”
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Deals and bargains are not his forte. He prefers to keep things as straightforward as possible, as his arrangement with Jesse had been. Now it's a different sort of deal, meant to keep this thing in check until he could find a way to free Jesse from its grasp.
"I will agree to your terms...but only if you live by our creed for the remaining days of the month. Hunt monsters, hunt other vampires if you must, but no harm will come to the innocents in your path. And when that day comes where I must serve you, then I will. My bow and my powers will be yours, without argument."
no subject
And if he should tire of it, he could always kill Hanzo. The agreement doesn’t rule that out. Not that he’s liable to, not anytime soon… but they do have the rest of eternity. Things could change.
“Not bad, archer. Not bad at all.” He blinks, and his eyes are back to black. When he speaks, his voice echoes strangely within the confines of the bedroom.
“The terms are set, Hanzo Shimada. We agree of our own volition to enter this pact, and so it will bind us both.”
This is the least he has sounded like Jesse since this started, the accent stripped away, his voice flat. A warm breeze stirs the air around them as he holds out a hand to shake on it, palm radiating the same heat Hanzo might remember from the demon fire back at Talon. Or from Jesse, whenever he’d use Deadeye.
no subject
He lives with enough ghosts, enough regrets.
Jaw set, he lifts his hand, taking hold of the demon's and feeling that heat roll flush through him. It's a familiar thing, and for a moment he recalls the deserts of the American southwest, on those long nights rolling through the wilderness with only the headlamps of their vehicle to guide them.
For you, I will do this. I will find a way to free you, I swear it.
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“It’s a deal then. Funny how these things work out. You helped me get the foothold I needed in this man’s heart, and now you’re fighting to save it.” He slips his hand from Hanzo’s grip with a sigh that almost sounds content. Sated.
“You’ll be wanting your hint then I reckon. You got anythin’ in particular you want to know to get you started?” He might not answer, but he’ll at least consider it.
no subject
Though that does present an issue. Any move against him, any sense of intent, and the demon will know. He can simply reach across their bond and feel whatever Hanzo tries to mask or hide. Fortunately, his desire to save Jesse is no secret, not between the two of them.
His back straightens, hand drawn back to his side as soon as he is able.
"What is required? Are there physical components?" First thing's first. Give him a direction. Research he can do. Something tangible he can follow. The demon won't make it easy, but one can only hope he'll be true to his word.
no subject
“What’s that human phrase…? Oh, yeah—” He snaps his fingers. “There’s more than one way to skin a cat. Whether or not there are physical components depends on how you want to go about it.”
Vague, but true. His favorite space to operate in.
no subject
"Talon will be looking for us. Likely the team that dispatched McCree as well. We will need to stay on the move to avoid them," he utters tonelessly, folding his arms over his chest. A tick, and he glances down at the body on the floor.
"And this will need to be dealt with, as well."
He can do so, but he knows the demon will want to keep tabs on him, lest he try to escape.
no subject
“I can take care of the body,” he says, nudging it with one foot. “But you know, I never said you had to tag along with me the rest of the month. You’re a free man, Hanzo. You wander off, you’ll know where to find me when the time comes.” For emphasis, he sends a metaphysical tug down the bond between them.
“And if you decide not to show up… that is a choice you can make. Though I wouldn’t recommend it.”
no subject
Much as he despises the creature, he can't risk anything happening to him -- and by extension, Jesse. So it appears that they are once again stuck together.
And he will ensure the demon does not enjoy a moment of it.
no subject
Plus he enjoys Hanzo’s discomfort, and his lingering feelings of anger and guilt. Hanzo might just come to regret this decision.
“Well then, suppose we should get movin’. Partner.” He grins as he kneels down, hoisting the dead man up by his jacket and carrying him off to the bathroom, to be burned with preternatural fire. Not even a bit of ash is left behind in the tub.
no subject
Beyond that, it's his fault the demon has this supernatural body to tear through the world in, in the first place. He could not have fathomed what lay dormant in the hunter when he made his rash decision to grant him this power, in the hopes of finding someone to be his equal. Then he abandoned him to the world, to learn what he was, how to survive. He abandoned him again when it seemed he might be growing close enough to him to cause him harm...or vice versa.
No more running. Instead he forces himself to witness the unholy flame that consumes the corpse, and the eerie smile sitting on what remains of his fledgling. No. It is only fair that he be the one to watch him now.
no subject
Wherever they go, there’s a pattern: the demon likes big cities, ones crawling with people and vice. He goes where the depravity leads. A favorite pastime is cheating desperate gamblers out of things they can’t afford to lose, but that’s second only to hunting. It’s disappointing not being able to feed on the innocent, but he wrings what cruelty he can out of feeding on vampires and other creatures. His reputation—Jesse’s, rather, as a monster among monsters—is reinvigorated and only grows. It isn’t only death that awaits the unfortunates in his path. His cruelty and uncanny ability to suss out even the most well-hidden, secretive creatures puts supernatural community on-edge.
He relishes in the stories, takes pride in them like Jesse never did. To the hunter, the rumors had been an unfortunate and unavoidable side effect of what he’d become. It made laying low that much harder. The demon though, it’s almost like he feeds on the fear. On being known.
And all the while, he’s careful not to break a single one of the rules Hanzo had set. His victims are all wicked, after all, though none perhaps as wicked as him.
no subject
Hanzo despises this thing, and how he would so love to find a way to end up. But for the the next month he holds himself in check. Hope that there will be a way to save Jesse in the end is all he has now. What does he care for the fate of the world? His obligation lies with him.
Genji would disagree. For a time, he considers reaching out to his brother, but there's still a chance his cover with Talon might be recoverable. And he can't trust that there aren't eyes somewhere in Overwatch even now, making the same moves he is.
So he stays close. Watches the demon's movements, and next to his reign of terror? Hanzo is but a shadow, a whisper of rumor. He may as well not be a presence in these cities at all, distinctive as he might be otherwise. He feeds without passion, enough to sustain himself.
And he keeps watch, as the days tick past. Until it is time to submit once more to the bargain made.
no subject
He rises and dresses as he always does: in something similar to how Jesse would have dressed, sans his most iconic items. No belt buckle, serape, or hat. He hadn’t had them when he left Talon, and there's no telling if they’d been in that facility or the one he’d been captured in initially. Either way, there's no getting them back now.
Peacekeeper too, most likely. That one annoys the most. That gun and him… or rather, it and Jesse and the demon by extension… they’d had a unique bond. He’s been quietly collecting firearms this past month for a reason. Not all of them can handle the things he can do, not like that six-shooter. He’ll likely go through several.
“Mornin’ Han,” he calls out, cheery as anything now that he’s dressed and looking human, right down to the eyes. “You remember what day it is, don’t you? Ready for a night on the town?”
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He's refused to address him as anything else, a constant reminder that he refuses to see him as the shell he inhabits. He is a parasite to be ousted, nothing more. Those charming smiles and wiles of his are for naught.
But of course, the beast enjoys his misery. Anger is easier to surrender to him. Feast, for there is plenty to spare.
Hanzo focuses his cold black eyes on the figure at the doorway, righting his clothing as he does so.
"I assume you intend to save your meal for after you've had me do your bidding."
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He turns towards Hanzo, looking downright average in his plaid and jeans. He grabs a worn black leather jacket he’d picked up while out one night, smelling of someone else’s cigarettes and blood.
“You assume right. You won’t be much use to me after that, so we should save the best for last. In the meantime—” He slips a piece of paper out of the jacket pocket, holding it out for Hanzo to come and take. “I’ve got an errand for you to run. Might be a bit under your pay grade, truth be told, but you might have some fun with it. I need to you to go pick somethin’ up for me.”
On the paper are instructions, leading Hanzo out from the city and into the desert. Not too far out. He’ll be able to get there within an hour or two. On the other side is a roughly sketched map of a building, several floors with most of them being underground. One room in particular is marked with an X.
“Get in the building, get to that room and retrieve this.” He taps his temple, mentally projecting the image of a box small enough to fit in the palm of Hanzo’s hand. It’s simple wood contrasted with intricate silverwork, every bit of undecorated space carved with sigils for both protection and containment.
“You can get in however you want. Go in through the front door, or take the sneaky route. You might be better off tryin’ not to take ‘em off-guard, though. Password's on the paper if you need it to get past security.” He slips both his hands into his jacket pockets. “I’ll stay in town and keep myself entertained, but I want you back here within an hour of dawn. Kill who you have to if things get dicey, and don’t let ‘em follow you when you leave. You got all that?”
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