[Everything was easier when he had his plan and could stick to it. Here? Here everything is much more complicated and he's left with far too much time on his hands. Too much time to think.]
That's all there is for a dead man who had everything taken from him. I wasn't even allowed a proper death.
[Time, as Zenyatta would hurry to point out, is little more than an illusion- a precious illusion at that. He does not know how much time he has left with Reaper. They could both be whisked back home within minutes, hours, back to a status quo that set them against each other.]
If you are right- if you truly believe that, which is just the same as being right- then you have nothing left to lose. [His voice isn't soft anymore. He has not raised it, yet it carries an odd steeliness to it, empowered by his intensity, all but reverberating through Reaper's thoughts like the voice of a god in some old Hollywood production.] Have you always been such a coward, Gabriel Reyes?
[Before it could have gotten anger, the way it was said or the fact it was said at all, would have provoked such a burning anger out of him. Once had so much to prove. To fight and prove he was more than what most saw him as-
What did he have to prove now? Some laugh that held no mirth carried in his tone. Maybe he had always been and buried it under trying to be a good man.
Silence.
Here there were actual attempts at reaching out to him. Forced because he played along and there was some sense of- what? Questioning everything, couldn't trust in anything but himself. Wasn't even true.
Oh, bits of anger could be felt in that silence. Sharp and burning, but softened with doubts. Bitterness something sour and just as sharp, caused the fire of anger to smolder. Caged away were things he didn't allow to bother thinking about, to keep from having any
Hope.]
No one would bother trying to see outside of what I want to be seen. To think more than what is there, pick it apart, to see more than the monster it needs. To fear, to fight.
[Zenyatta has heard myths about terrible demons swallowing the sun. Reaper's very presence is a black hole of feeling; the longer their conversation carries on, the more he begins to feel as though he were subject to something similar, consuming the very light from his core and leaving him a silent shell. But then, did Reaper himself not live that reality every day, an ouroboros of anger and hatred and emptiness?
He sounds tired now, he is tired, the echo has vanished, but he does not stop.]
Do you suppose I would still be here if I thought that was all there was to you? If you believe that, then you have beguiled yourself with your own illusion. [There is a small pause. His voice quietens.] Or perhaps it is worse than I feared. Perhaps you have willfully allowed yourself to believe lies because they are simply easier than acknowledging the truth.
[The light of his presence flickers, wanes, a candle before the winds of Reaper's storm: not howling, but soft and subtle and insidious.]
You? You were a surprise, to be honest. You're stubborn, persistent, look past the surface to see that there's the possibility of potential for something better if it's just worked for. Even if there needs to be help.
Encouragement in various ways. You don't hand over an answer, you don't say what is wanted to be heard, but what is needed to be heard. Stick to your own beliefs, even if here and there they are flexible.
[Reminded him of something, and that was where the surprise came in. The more time he spent with the omnic, the more he was reminded of something he hadn't let go of himself. Denied it as he had, reminded of it during his time here.
There was warmth as he spoke, some sudden shift, even if the anger and bitterness was still there this was strong enough to remain. Stubborn in it's own way, a part that never died buried as it was.]
The truth is I know what I have done and likely will continue to do when I'm no longer in this place. I don't expect that to be understood why-
It's been... People here treat me differently than I've grown used to, I don't know how to handle it. I can admit it. Can play along, but there are people here, despite what I've told them, that expect good things of me. Others judge, yes, but-
[Zenyatta listens quietly, and as Reaper speaks he feels himself warm and blossom beneath his praise, just as quickly as he wilted, and quite against his will; this conversation was never supposed to be about him, even if it touches him in a way he could not have anticipated. The man he describes is everything he should hope to be, everything Mondatta was once to him.
Maybe that's part of why his answer is delayed. If Reaper- no, Gabriel- wanted to catch him off guard, he has succeeded spectacularly, and he's still catching up when the man continues to speak. When he says that word again. Monster.
Zenyatta has no need to breathe. Yet across the network he exhales softly, not in a sigh but a gentle, clearing breath.]
I do not know. Monsters do not exist.
[He pauses again, gathering his thoughts about him like a cloak, in preparation.]
Yes. Perhaps we will return, and perhaps our paths will never cross again- or perhaps you will put a bullet in my head. But you are not an oracle, Gabriel, and neither am I. The future is beyond our understanding. All I ask is that you live in our present, not as the man you once were or the man you might be, but the man you are growing into now.
For what it is worth to you, I have great faith in him.
[There was sincerity in those words, even if the tone they were spoken in were the same as always; albeit a bit softer, thought about. He meant them, and knew that once upon a time even he had been seen as such a person. There are quite a few of them, but still odd to run into one. What is needed, even if not wanted.
[Zenyatta can only hum in reply, a sound that would be neutral to most, but in which anyone with an ear for his droll sense of humour would be able to pick out his amusement. The conversation has lightened somewhat. He does not know if his words have touched Gabriel, but-]
[There was a snort, and some actual bit of laughter. Unlike in person that laughter doesn't sound as if he'd breathed in nothing but smoke for several years. Some other hint of the dead man in there.]
She calls me Sir Reaper now- she knows my name, but knows I don't like random people knowing it otherwise.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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It's pointless.
[It's quieter, strangely.]
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What else do you have to hope for? Are you really so content to live within your own misery, Gabriel?
If you will not hope, I will hope for you.
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That's all there is for a dead man who had everything taken from him. I wasn't even allowed a proper death.
All I have is what is back in our world.
I have nothing else.
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If you are right- if you truly believe that, which is just the same as being right- then you have nothing left to lose. [His voice isn't soft anymore. He has not raised it, yet it carries an odd steeliness to it, empowered by his intensity, all but reverberating through Reaper's thoughts like the voice of a god in some old Hollywood production.] Have you always been such a coward, Gabriel Reyes?
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[Before it could have gotten anger, the way it was said or the fact it was said at all, would have provoked such a burning anger out of him. Once had so much to prove. To fight and prove he was more than what most saw him as-
What did he have to prove now? Some laugh that held no mirth carried in his tone. Maybe he had always been and buried it under trying to be a good man.
Silence.
Here there were actual attempts at reaching out to him. Forced because he played along and there was some sense of- what? Questioning everything, couldn't trust in anything but himself. Wasn't even true.
Oh, bits of anger could be felt in that silence. Sharp and burning, but softened with doubts. Bitterness something sour and just as sharp, caused the fire of anger to smolder. Caged away were things he didn't allow to bother thinking about, to keep from having any
Hope.]
No one would bother trying to see outside of what I want to be seen. To think more than what is there, pick it apart, to see more than the monster it needs. To fear, to fight.
Is it cowardice to not step out of that?
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He sounds tired now, he is tired, the echo has vanished, but he does not stop.]
Do you suppose I would still be here if I thought that was all there was to you? If you believe that, then you have beguiled yourself with your own illusion. [There is a small pause. His voice quietens.] Or perhaps it is worse than I feared. Perhaps you have willfully allowed yourself to believe lies because they are simply easier than acknowledging the truth.
[The light of his presence flickers, wanes, a candle before the winds of Reaper's storm: not howling, but soft and subtle and insidious.]
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Encouragement in various ways. You don't hand over an answer, you don't say what is wanted to be heard, but what is needed to be heard. Stick to your own beliefs, even if here and there they are flexible.
[Reminded him of something, and that was where the surprise came in. The more time he spent with the omnic, the more he was reminded of something he hadn't let go of himself. Denied it as he had, reminded of it during his time here.
There was warmth as he spoke, some sudden shift, even if the anger and bitterness was still there this was strong enough to remain. Stubborn in it's own way, a part that never died buried as it was.]
The truth is I know what I have done and likely will continue to do when I'm no longer in this place. I don't expect that to be understood why-
It's been... People here treat me differently than I've grown used to, I don't know how to handle it. I can admit it. Can play along, but there are people here, despite what I've told them, that expect good things of me. Others judge, yes, but-
What does a monster know of it?
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Maybe that's part of why his answer is delayed. If Reaper- no, Gabriel- wanted to catch him off guard, he has succeeded spectacularly, and he's still catching up when the man continues to speak. When he says that word again. Monster.
Zenyatta has no need to breathe. Yet across the network he exhales softly, not in a sigh but a gentle, clearing breath.]
I do not know. Monsters do not exist.
[He pauses again, gathering his thoughts about him like a cloak, in preparation.]
Yes. Perhaps we will return, and perhaps our paths will never cross again- or perhaps you will put a bullet in my head. But you are not an oracle, Gabriel, and neither am I. The future is beyond our understanding. All I ask is that you live in our present, not as the man you once were or the man you might be, but the man you are growing into now.
For what it is worth to you, I have great faith in him.
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He laughed, faintly.]
Some would disagree, more so if it's on me.
[But it was let go of, quickly.]
You and the princess that knighted me here.
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You were knighted by a princess?
[And now he just sounds baffled. Congrats.]
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Sir Gabriel Reaper, errant knight of Verens.
[There was something there, he'd think on those words. He would. For one reason or another Reaper did get into contact with Zenyatta after all.]
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Ah, how wonderful! It gladdens me to hear of someone else who appreciates your potential, Gabriel! Or perhaps I should call you 'my good Sir'?
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She calls me Sir Reaper now- she knows my name, but knows I don't like random people knowing it otherwise.
Been strangely kind since I first spoke with her.
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Not every act of kindness has an ulterior motive, my friend. Clearly, she trusts you.
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He'd been honest that he wasn't who he used to be, had once been a solider that helped save the world.]
For what it helps I don't believe she has some ulterior motive.
[Anymore.]
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Then you are already coming along in leaps and bounds. You may not be a knight in shining armour, but I do not think silver would suit you anyway.
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[So definitely not silver.
Wherever this conversation had gone? There was more ease on his end, far less tension than had been brought in the beginning, simply. Talking.]
Stopped bothering with hope, seeing where it got me before.
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Well. You are certainly not going anywhere for the time being, hope or no hope. Perhaps you might indulge a foolish omnic for a time.
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[And get used to hoping for.. anything.
Now he had to figure out what the Hell he was even hoping for, honestly. Why it was even there.]