Surrender To My Will

moira thats gay

This. This was definitely not someone she wanted to see. Nor someone she expected to see. The esteemed Dr. Ziegler herself, coming to wish her goodbye and good tidings, unknowing of the literal hell she had put her through internally. Grinding her teeth, she seethed quietly for a moment before remembering.

None of this mattered.

Relaxing, she gave the other a smile---it wasn’t happy, but more so amused.

“So it takes until we are being booted from this infernal city for the good doctor to bother sharing a visit, hm? Is it because our memories will be wiped and you want a good conscience before such will happen? It won’t matter what you say. None of us will remember. You could yell and scream and curse me out, you could be more than a goody two shoes for once in your life and it wouldn’t matter... And yet, you choose to try and be kind and civil, never breaking that stone cold goodness you’re known for.”

“And you know what? That’s probably why I was drawn to you, Ziegler. The fact you were so irritatingly good, that no matter what you did you did it with such a nice light shone upon you, no one could ever see wrong. It was so infuriating... and so alluring at the same time. It was impossible to get you out of my mind. I so badly wanted to see you slip up just once or even better see me with an ounce of respect and interest... But it never happened.

Staring at the beer, she rose a brow before taking it, wondering just how many the other had before it caused him to even bother coming to her. She had taken solace in the fact that it was likely neither of them were one for sentiment, and she could leave without having the conversation they were about to. Of course, here it was happening before her, and frankly, she was going to down this drink best she could while it was happening.

“Good to know you can confirm what I had figured,” she muttered, popping off the top of the beer before taking a swig. “Everything will just disappear as though it hadn’t mattered. Makes my life easier anyway.”

Shrugging lightly, she threw the beer back, chugging most of the bottle before bothering to even consider his second statement. Enemies. That was right, Talon kept pestering Hanzo to join their ranks. She was very tightly knit with Talon---not that she minded. It was a very stable source of income even with being stationed out in Oasis and working there.

“If we are enemies, it’s because you didn’t have a chance to listen to me.”

“But given the fact Talon can send me at any time to try and recruit you... If your arrow is at my neck don’t think I won’t retaliate.”

As light hearted as she tried to make those words, they felt like cement in her mouth. Truthfully, the other was probably the closest she’d let a person be with her in a long time. She’d unfortunately decided to let someone in, and knowing that it would likely come to one of them killing another... Hurt. Lips drawing to a thin line, she took another swig of the beer before wiping at her eye and looking away.

Taken by surprise from the statement, she was struck speechless once more. It felt wrong to tell the other she would likely not remember a single thing from this city, and that in return neither would Willow. If it was a comfort of her to be remembered and remember... Then who was she to deny her that privilege? Sighing, she gave a smirk, nodding to her.

She’s silent for a moment, taking in the other’s words and letting them mull around in her brain. It’s true---they would be going back to their world and going back to all that hard work they had to do. They were leaving behind the lives they lived here and everything that led up to now. She wasn’t one to be sentimental, she had left behind so much many, many times before, but this time it wasn’t guaranteed they’d still remember everything in this city. It might be wiped from their memories upon leaving.

And that, she didn’t know if she wanted to give up.

“You’re right,” she finally stated, words falling out of her mouth heavier than she thought. “Back to the important things, back to Oasis and running the genetics department while helping Talon as they need. But I wouldn’t say everything here isn’t important. What was done here isn’t a waste of time.”

Moving towards the other, she stared down at her, before aimlessly taking the other’s hair between her fingers. Playing with it for a bit, she sighed, shrugging her shoulders.

“But I doubt we’ll remember any of this when we get home, so no matter how important it feels, it will become worthless as soon as it’s gone.”

therapy / talking about trauma / post - trauma starters. 

After months in this city, Moira still felt like she had barely grazed the surface of the secrets that this city held. What she’d learned was actually, more like nothing. She had zip, zilch, nada. So that was clearly going to have to change. There was no way she was going to spend more time in this city without learning something inherently useful.

Spotting a woman sitting in the park, she stared at her for a moment before walking over, standing in front of her to make her presence known.

“You look to be rather smart,” she commented, pulling out her notebook.

He beams a smile up at her almost immediately, tucking his papers under one arm and sticking his other out for a handshake.

“Call me Joshua. I believe you just applied to work with me over in Sector 3, yes? Sorry I’m kind of intruding, but I figured I’d visit you myself so we can talk business plans in person. Were you busy?”

Not like he cares.

Raising a brow, she stares at the hand before carefully taking it, shaking it once before letting go and crossing her arms over her chest. So this was the person running that business she applied for. She’d taken up the extra lab space, since despite living in a house a lab by itself was still preferred, and didn’t pay much attention to who was actually... running the business. Guess this was it.

“A bit young to be running some underground research facility and organization, aren’t you,” she asked, stepping aside to let him in.

A struck chord, a shock of lightning through the sky. It brights light to the sky and Hanzo is momentarily blinded before the city is gone.

The sickness roils in his stomach, angry with Moira and the wild vacillation of the dream. She regards this place with familiarity and Hanzo scoffs. Surely, this was no place Hanzo had ever been before. Someplace similar perhaps. Soft lilac edges at his periphery, but his attention is caught.

“What’ve you done to yourself?”

His voice feels unreal, like it doesn’t come from his mouth. He snaps his jaw shut, something akin to disgust coursing through him. An affliction, something pressing into him before elsewhere. Feelings and words not of his own volition. A hand finds his chest and he presses against his sternum, feeling a seizing grasp there.

“If we are going through one another’s memories, then you need to calm down.” Spoken from a hypocrite. As if panic were not settling into his skull.

This setting was oppressive. Despite wide, open pastures, the sky was like a ceiling, the grass catching at his feet. Now metal.

“What have you done, Moira?”

Moira’s attention is drawn to her arm as she examines it, trying to keep herself turned from what might be behind her. Fingers carefully ran across the pulsing surface, the aching becoming more intense with the touch and causing her to clench her jaw. Moving her hand away to touch her face, she felt the significant lack of wrinkles as well, hand bumping the glasses adorned on her face. Right. She hadn’t fixed that entirely yet either.

Her thoughts were pushed out as soon as she heard the other speak, the words ringing through her ears as her eyes widened. Tears were forming involuntarily, face contorting in anger.

Swiveling around to look at him, she swore that Hanzo had been replaced with her father for a split second, the ghost of her mother standing behind him.

“What have I done!?” she shrieked back at him, eyes a piercing glare at him. “I have done my work. This is what I have spent years working on and working towards!”

The words spit out of her mouth were the same as they had been years ago, the same fight that tore them apart. Her blood was boiling, and the next words the other spoke about staying calm weren’t exactly helping. A little hypocritical as well, given that she was damn sure he wasn’t calm in any regard from both his words and what they’d flung themselves out of.

“Don’t you bloody tell me to calm down,” she hissed, finger raising to point at him. “If ‘staying calm’ were to keep us from moving from shit place to shittier place we would have never left your own subconscious.”