Scene #5254: On The EDGE Of A New Era. Get It? Edge?

Owner	Pose
Reaper	It began with holes in the sky. It began when gates opened across the globe, rumors of aliens and conspiracies. All debunked on national news, of course, the UN firmly in control of the narrative. There were no gates. No aliens. Nothing to see here, move along, move along. Don't mind that the stars are all out of alignment or that the world no longer quite bends down in the same way at the horizon. Flat Earth Conspiracy, that's all. It wouldn't last more than a day, maybe two, at the most. But in that one day, he who struck first struck best. And Reaper was nothing if not good at striking first. The warpgate that formed post-unification is sitting in the middle of a hastily thrown together shelter, preventing casual observation from the outside. The swirling vortex of chaotic energies occasionally flares as something on the other side crosses it, but otherwise the area is relatively quite save for the occasional shuffle of one of the masked Talon agents. And the steady thump of heavy boots walking along the gantry setup. Talon agents glance up, then at each other. "Leave." A single word, growled low and steady. REAPER! The sterile, bone-white mask splashes with refracted color from the gateway, as the agents quickly slip away. The Lord of All Edges (Nothing personal kid) strides forward a few steps in his new found solitude, clawed gauntlets clacking as they wrap around the safety bar. Staring into .. well... the end of the old way of thinking.
Sombra	Alone? Reaper might think he's alone a lot of times, but despite what he might think, it's not the case. A familiar sound can be heard as the spot next to him shimmers in light purple, revealing the shorter form of his fellow Talon agent as she has the nerve to reach up and rest her elbow on top of his shoulder. "Hmmm. It's an interesting sight, isn't it?" Sombra muses, pursing her lips. "And it's been going on for nearly a year already... with only a few people knowing. Including the Overwatch." Whether or not he allows her to rest her elbow on top of his shoulder, he doesn't have to worry about it for long as she pulls her arm back, extends her fingers and begins typing on a screen that just pops into excistence. "Do you know what this means, Gabe?" There's curousity to her tone, sure. But also humour and playfulness. And just by looking at her, Reaper should be able to tell that the younger woman looks amused. True, she's seldom frowning. But every now and then she gets that certain twinkle in her eye. Today is one of those days.
Reaper	The masked face jerks slightly to the side; A person who is not incredibly observant wouldn't even see it. But Reaper was taken by surprise by the thermal camo - something that happens more often than not, to his chagrin. A low growl of annoyance starts somewhere deep in his throat when the young action-hacker rests her elbow atop his broad shoulder, but he doesn't brush it off. Either doesn't have time too, or has more important things on his mind. "People.. are sheep. Flash enough pretty pictures on their holovids, and they won't remember yesterday." Gauntlets release the safety bar as he straightens out, crossing thick arms over his chest. The mask turned slightly again; Nearly impossible to tell where he's looking, but it at least gives the impression he's got half an eye on her. "Yes.. it's the death of the old world." Always so gloom and doom! "And after a year we're still here. So it's worse than an invasion - it's nature." A though strikes him, and the large man turns fully to face the 'coloful' Team Talon Daughter. "..Sombraaaa.. what did you do?"
Sombra	"Maybe some people in big groups," Sombra admits with a casual shrug. "Sometimes they need a little push and a shove in the right direction so they can do what needs to be done." Like she did when she exposed Lumerico and their deal in Dorado. That had been pretty fun. At Reaper's pessimistic words the hacker arches her eyebrows, then rolls her eyes just a little. "Really? Death? It's not even November yet." Save Las Dia des Muertos for then. "Do you not see it? It's not them invading us. It's us... getting the chance to invade /them/! Or at least visit them and see what's out there," she explains, all while her fingers dance over the hexagon keyboards that appear underneath her enhanced gloves. Images roll over the screen, information that flies by perhaps too quickly for most eyes. All of this Sombra doesn't try to hide from Reaper. Not even when he questions what she's been up to. A grin crosses her face, and she looks up at him. "Relajate~! I merely took advantage of this... to gather some new information." With a quick motion of her finger she flips the screen, turning it around before she pulls it upwards through the air so Reaper can better see. A video clip of the Overwatch... in action on a world that is clearly not their own. "This is an opportunity, Gabe," she points out. "An opportunity for Talon, not to mention us, to get what we want." That grin is still present on her face as she swipes the screen... and another one pops up next to it, a screen with something written on it... The League.
Reaper	"Or a leash to be dragged where they need to go." States 'Gabe' darkly, wisps of smoke rising from him as his shoulders flatten slightly; Wisps of smoke slowly floating away from him, as if he were evaporating slowly. The tactical suit creaking as arms tighten, before his chin rises slightly. Reaper's obsession with death and death-like things had become a bit predictable; Guess it came with the territory of dying again and again. "Death waits for no month." The hard edge disappears just a bit, but never departs. Because Reaper's always got an edge somewhere. "And I'm right. The old way of thinking is gone; This is a lot bigger than a Junkenstein-esque screwup with Humanity's last tincan child." And then Sombra talks about invading -other people-. That shuts Reaper up, to the point there's almost no force behind his reflexive "Don't call me Gabe." Distracted by the videos of Overwatch on alien worlds. The arms relaxing their tight crossed grip, the thoughtful silence a lot more telling than any lack of facial expression. When 'The League' pops up, Reaper's mask turns back to the gateway. Where it anyone else, he'd doubt the authenticity. But Sombra? Sombra prided herself on knowing what was going on. You could almost guarantee if she had something, it was real - because she loved holding it over other people who much more she knew. Annoyance was worth it for the talent. ".. How many others in Talon have you showed?" He begins, gauntlet claws stepping a staccato upon his bicep.
Sombra	By now /Gabriel/ should know that Sombra calls people whatever she wants to. And she seems to take extra pleasure in referring to his previous identity. The one he had before he died. And she doesn't reply to his request either. Instead she merely watches him as he views the screens to take in the information. It's only when he speaks that she lets the screens disappear with a wave of her hand. "Oh, you're the first one I showed. Widowmaker isn't here right now, and hey... I thought you'd appreciate knowing what was going on. Perhaps appreciate it so much that you would do me an eensy weensy tiny favour again, maybe?" Sombra reaches into her pocket, then pulls out some items that he should know. She's given them to him before, after all, for when he infiltrated Winston's lab in Gibraltar. "If you help me with this, then I will have all the information you could possibly want on your old friends in the Overwatch." Not to mention all the information that /she/ needs for an initial sweep of the multiverse. "And get us some new allies in the League. Their goals coincide with ours for now, wouldn't you say...?"
Reaper	That same low growl from somewhere deep in Reaper's throat at yet another 'tiny favour'. The trouble? It was almost always worth the effort. Mask chin down, letting the cowl drop forward just a bit, the tendrils of black smoke curling along the bone-white exterior of that owl face. Or horse skull. OR stylized death mask. Or Deatheater-Wanna-Be mask. Whatever you want to call it, depending on the mood. "I don't have friends, Sombra - I have targets. Something you'll want to keep in mind." Still, his arms unlock from their crossed position, one hand dropping down, palm up. Gauntlet claws open, like a bear trap. Gabe wouldn't admit it, but technology was not his forte; He knew enough to get his job done. For everything else, there's Sombra. HOW stabbing a tiny cylinder into some important machines and pressing a button allowed remote hacking, he wouldn't know; Liquid nanites forming a makeshift circuit? Whatever it is that Sombra does that allows her to hack things at a touch? He couldn't even really say what -he- is now, much less how she does her stuff. They all have their uses. ".. Good. Keep it between the three of us." He states, voice growing colder as he keeps speaking. "And see if you can get us a few introductions to .. 'The League'. It's time to drag this place into the future - kicking and screaming if needed."
Sombra	A mock pout settles on Sombra's face at that, and she cants her head, her purple locks bouncing against her shoulder. "Awww, and here I thought we were the best of friends, Gabe... you hurt my feelings..." No, she'll never stop teasing him, it seems. The small cylinders are dropped into his waiting hand. "Gracias. Just do what you did last time, and I'll spend the night working, okay? We should have League contact by morning, it does appear that they are always looking for new muscle... and brains too." As for keeping this a secret? A chuckle leaves the woman, and she raises a finger to her mouth. "My lips are sealed~" Who knows how many secrets Sombra keeps, anyway? Too many to count. "Now tell me... is there any specific information you want on your... targets?"
Reaper	Claws flex once more with a faint creak as Talon's Finest starts talking about feelings and being friends. Mocking or not, it's obvious that Reaper's not quite comfortable with the topic. That, or his silence is his own form of patience - really, if he'd take off the stupid mask it'd be much easier to know what's going through that dead head of his. IF he still has a face behind it, and not just wisps of black smoke or wriggling teeth tentacles or something else. There's a betting pool somewhere in Talon base as to what. The hand then snaps closed over the cylinders, neatly tucking them into one of the many belts that cross Gabe's waist. Why so many belts? Who knows. A sale at Hot Topic, maybe. "As long as there's three people left alive, someone will want another person dead. Job security's not an issue." Reaper states nonchalantly, before taking a moment to reach beneath his duster-cowl-thing and pull out - TWIN SHOTGUNS. Elbows crooked in a right angle, before he lowers them, biceps flexing slightly as he aims towards the gateway itself. Idly rolling his shoulder so he can sight down one of them, speaking as he does. "Where they sleep and what they love. The last thing we need is someone competent getting in our way - before I can get in theirs."
Sombra	Patience is a virtue, or so they say. And Sombra isn't exactly the type of person who rushes into action before everything is set in place. Likewise, while she does poke fun at her fellow agent, she's never pushed it too much to the point where she's gotten a shotgun aimed at her head. "¿Sí, I doubt we will ever get bored," she chuckles, standing calmly there as Reaper does his edgy thing, aiming at portals in the sky. "And I got it, I'll do what I can to figure that out. And see if I can gain encrypted access to the radios out there, I can always have a chat while I work." Stepping closer, Sombra narrows her eyes slightly and smiles. "Just be careful when you go out there. Some places have higher security than others, but I know you can do it." Slowly her right hand raises, and she extends her index finger to touch Reaper on his mask, right where his nose would be. "Boop!" With that Sombra fades as she activates her translocator, leaving behind a quickly fading afterimage with the tech still visible in the air.
Reaper	"Nothing can stop deat-" Begins Reaper, as he turns his mask back towards Sombra - only to have her finger there. THERE, in his face. Booping him on the fake nose hole. Before he can respond or so much as make comment, Sombra's gone - translocated away. Still, with an angry growl, Reaper swings the butt of his shotgun through where she once was. Making certain she's long gone. Talon doesn't waste talent. And neither does Reaper. With a disgusted sound he throws the shotguns to either side of him, letting them clatter and bounce off the gantry walk. Hands flex and unflex as he stares back towards the gateway. Let the mind's eye watch from behind, his form silouetted, a shadowy blot in the bright, woven colors for a moment. And then he laughs; It's not the echoing, evil laughter of a psychopath. No, there's something worse behind it - actual amusement. Gabriel, though his voice is still messed up. "You would not believe what I put up with, pendejos... but it'll all be worth it in the end." Gauntlets grip the safety bar, Reaper resting his weight upon his forearm as he leans forward. His voice dropping back to the low, reverberating growl he's become so accustomed too. "All of it." Behind and beside him, the abandoned shotguns are already beginning to dissolve away.