(hands shooting towards his throat caused panic, made him ache. ㅤㅤbut he tramped it down, let her hands grip the fabric of the brown shirt, the red worn over it--) ”if you want it to be through, i-- ㅤㅤi can go,„ (and his voice shook and hurt, and he looked down at her as his eyes tried not (cont)

(he let's it sit, ㅤㅤa weight shared is a weight halved.) "say, lacroix. ㅤㅤgot my old mustang down by the boardwalk. ever enjoy the american tradition a' cruisin'? share some culture firsthand.„ (because not everything had to be heavy. not all the time.)

”bold words, ㅤㅤfrom someone sportin' an iridescent bob.„ (it did not look good.)

(passive and idle, cigar between mechanical fingers) ”well, kid, not kid, whatever,„ (passive hand wave from the would-be john wayne,) ㅤㅤ”addiction is a bitch to kick.„

(he doesn't say it. --not at first, but he thinks it, tilting that hat back on his head.) ㅤㅤ”funny thing,„ (but some humor had faded,) ”i don' remeber half the places i got drug neither.„ (not so different. ㅤㅤweapons in the war-game.)

”hey, im plenty cultured-- ㅤㅤhave you ever been to the cave of mysteries?„ (smug, but facetiously so, knocking away ashes.) ㅤㅤ”didn' have time to stroll the louvre when i was workin' recon in france, im afraid.„

(when the bottle hit the table--he reached, ㅤㅤhand left of flesh and blood, ㅤㅤand all it could do was reach for her, with such sadness on his features. he tried to gentle move away the bottle.) ㅤㅤ”lizzie,„ (softer than liz, elizabeth) ”i. i know you ain't gonna leave em-- (cont)

please guide him to your kingdom, lord. he may not deserve it... but maybe he'll make a better angel than he was a man.

(he did-- ㅤㅤsun-painted skin and age at the corners of his eyes. a lopsided grin as he held the cigar in his hands.) ”right. parisian. ㅤㅤcigarettes and red wine while you do your high school homework, right?„ ㅤㅤ(bold, from the texan in a cowboy hat.)

”didn't know ya smoked,„ ㅤㅤ(drawled, casually.) ”almost surprised ya didn't have one of those cigarette holders,„ (pantomimed, and extended motion from his hand. ㅤㅤhis back pressed idly against the nearest wall, legs crossed at the ankle.) ”it'd really top off the rich bitch look.„

(the cigar in hus lips rolled, and a percussive chuckle, ㅤㅤlow rumble, a shift oh his weight) ”aw, i think its charmin'. ain't fluent in french though.„ ㅤㅤ(smoke. a skyward exhale. ㅤㅤhe knows shes staring. he rolls a shoulder.)

ooc. im low key a car guy so its a 1966 model ford drop top mustang in red with brown interior. im giving him that canonically

(brow up and arched. ㅤㅤglint of silver off standard issue dogtags. if someone followed the glint, it sits among moderate chest hair. ㅤㅤhm.) ”gun's come in all sizes, /cherie./„ (drawl, texan over a french word, and muffled by his cigar.)

(he seems to pause in reflection.) ”i get it. ㅤㅤlooked like shit that time i went blonde to go undercover....„

”'almost 30' means y'ain't 30. hell, 30's still pretty young.„ (he seems to realize, pause, exhale smoke pointedly away from them.) ”good! it's bad for ya.„ (around a cigar in his mouth.)

(tropical heat and blue skies. he drops his hat on his head, glad for the shade, and exhales smoke.) ”right. ㅤㅤ ain't gonna get a bullet in my skull if i look away, am i?„

”you'll appreicate it when you're older. ㅤㅤtrust me.„ (pause) ”don't pick up smokin'.„

(he's readjusting the cuff of the shirt.) ”y' linin' up a shot? ㅤㅤmighta forgot your scope.„

”uh. ㅤㅤi dont think that hair color conpliments ya much, kid.„

(WELL, ㅤㅤhe cleans up nice. ㅤㅤbut what's he all gussied up for--?)

I can't find peace of mind 'till you're back in my arms again (To Get Back To You- Nelson) I'm so hoping they make up. Cass is still shaken with the revelation she went looking for him when he was arrested. #brart #cashe #colecassidy #asheoverwatch #digitalart #overwatchfanart #overwatch

Every memory repeats, every step I take retreats. Every journey always bring me back to you (After all - Cher and Peter Cetera) I made Ashe's POV from the previous drawing. #brart #overwatch #cashe #asheoverwatch #colecassidy

your softness will be suicide.

(the cast shadow of his hat was removed, ㅤㅤmeet her, eye to eye.) ”liz, it-- it's cole. i... i know its hard, but jesse wasn't--„ ㅤㅤ(real?) ”i called myself that cause i was always runnin'; always hidin', but i ain't that no more.„ (good that the bottle was moved away, even as he smoked.) (cont.)

(sadness didn't suit her. never had.) ”i don't--„ ㅤㅤ(shoulders rounded under the weight of of... everything. of hurting her and what he'd done. of being convinced he was the good guy and on the winning team. ㅤㅤwhat did any of that mean when hald his heart was breaking?) ”liz, i

ooc. lightning quink sketch of my interaction with @deadlockcalamity.bsky.social because i love sad cowpokes and had 15 minutes to kill.

”bein' trustin's what got us in hot water with the diamondbacks. that shit julian pulled...„ ㅤㅤ(a cigarette this time, match struck on his boot as he lit it. hoped she didn't mind it.) ”it... ㅤㅤit was all part of it. learned that. it's... part of hiw brainwashin' works. (cont.)

(oh god, her laugh. just a little thing but he remebered it.) ”th' commanders--told me deadlock never came lookin'„ (bottle passed across and exhaustion steady in his movements. his turn to study the grain.) ”half didnt blame ya. ㅤㅤit'd be suicide.„ (pause) ”better distant than dead.„

🎧 soundtrack.

”sometimes,„ ㅤㅤ(the vaquero, to no one in particular, a cigarette and gas-station coffee for breakfast,) ”i still wish i'd never left that farm.„

did you ever love her? do you know? or did you never want to be alone?

i'd try to see the glass as half-full, but i'd probably just drink that too.

(it burns on the way down, when he drinks. it burns in the way it should: smooth and sharp, chased by cinnamon and apple. ㅤㅤlike it should. if he thinks too long, he can almost taste the bitter of lipstick on the bottle.) ”... forget you? ㅤㅤno, i can't. i've tried.„

what love? what love?

(SILENCE... he takes the bottle and opens it, ㅤㅤpassing it across to her.) ”my place ain't with overwatch, lizzie.„ ㅤㅤ(didn't know where it was. if it existed. his paradise, his nirvana. he thought he did, once. wasnt sure now. ㅤㅤhe thought he'd find the pine box first.) (cont.)

(he had.) ”i- ㅤㅤi did,„ (smoke in his mouth and a quelled panic. if he bit down on those desert-scorched lips they'd bleed. (suddenly: sixteen with flowers in his hands and bravado that died and a bouquet in a trash can. ㅤㅤ'i love you' sixteen times to the mirror before he gave up on it.) (cont.)

”course i did. --didn't want it gettin' lost.„ (he stayed where he was, but his hand dropped to the bartop, eyes on the label of the whiskey; better. expensive. ㅤㅤnot what they nicked as teenagers from the back of liqour stores.) ”got it safe with that old photo of my folks.„ (cont.)

(goddammit, you aint worth shit. ㅤㅤhere for a heart beat and you got her going for the bottle. ㅤㅤno wonder you're alone. --a hand on hers, over the neck of the bottle, his augmented hand removing his own hat.) ”save it for somethin' worth celebratin', not for...„ (brows crease.) (cont.)

(better sense told him to stay outside that threshold. ㅤㅤlet her go. ㅤㅤshe dont need you. if she's smart, she dont want you.) ”should... leave ya to it,„ (turn and go, cowboy. but he crosses the threshold.) ”... shouldn't drink when yer sad, liz,„ (hes not leaving. ㅤㅤnot when she's like this.)

cole cassidy

(sometimes he remebered that farm. that simple life he wanted. maybe that was home. ㅤㅤhome felt about as real as that dream.) ”bet the gang drank the town dry.„ (talk of joy. let there be happiness. let there be--) ”what about you?„ (don't.) ”you got somebody?„

(what the f--) ”i was kiddin' 'bout the witch part,„ (or was he? based on this--what he saw--heard? ㅤㅤdamnit.) ”you in the business a' handin'out free intel?„

(it was somewhere jn an old faded wallet now, safer than it was before. it was alongsided a faded photo of his parents. ㅤㅤhe'd spread her the embarassment.) ”reckon i know it was yours. helped you build it.„ (long nights in that barn, smelling like metal and grease. (cont.)

”you ain't changed a bit.„ (not that he expected her to. ㅤㅤsome people never did. and the cowboy turned, content enough he'd glean nothing else.) ”give reyes my regards.„

(he should let her go, he should. he'd done enough. surely he'd done enough. let her walk away. hell, if she was being honest...) ”i'll see ya back, at least.„ (percussive spurs, just a stride behind.) ”got the bike nearby,„ (he managed to smile) ”if'n you dont wanna walk.„

(he didn't know. but his fingers extended towards her, moving, habit urging him to wipe those tears.) ”i--„ (he didn't know.) ”your-- ㅤㅤyour makeup's running.„

(hunting. he squared his jaw.) ”i try not t' remeber what i aint gotta,„ (groan of leather glove, grip tight) ”keeps my from goin' back to bad habits.„

(something ached, something he though has healed. unbound wounds and old scars and youth in texan sun, and laying on the grass and dreams and futures. his brows furrowed.) ”lizzie,„ (fingers reaching out, gentle for her arm,) ”i was a kid, taken in by someone trained t'--manipulate. i--„ (cont.)

ooc. open.spotify.com/track/507Vev... song in the bio, by the by. fantastic band.

(but not me.) ”that much i knew.„ (he had to know something. made sense. if reyes was with talon and the bartolotti girl was the head-- creased eyes again. age and exhaustion.) ”no reason to go chasin' ghosts.„