H O L L O W

@honorstripped​ // sc.

“Now I’ve never seen, met, or heard of a mercenary who uses a bow and arrows… you any good with em?” 

the corner of his eyes crinkle as he enters the room, the confused look mostly hidden behind his mask. though the others had offered him a tour, the clone has not yet had the chance to meet every member of the new overwatch. especially not this one.

his eyes flick over to the pile of books, and the steaming mug next to him. his tongue flicks out, to moisten his lips, before he can ask, “i-- i apologize for... interrupting.” 

he’s quiet as he moves across the rooftops.

winston had expressed his worry for overwatch’s little ai. sneaking out, being vague about her location, and for what? that’s what he wanted to know. that is what he needed to know, and so he’d sent the newest shimada out to investigate. he stayed back, stayed quiet. not a word spoken, to the little android or the primate that sent him him.

his father’s sword rested on his back, though his fingers remained curled around it. he did not wish to use it, but should athena find herself in danger, well. he will have no choice.

time comes and go, though, and neither make a violent move towards each other. instead, as they decide to part, athena presses her hand to the wraith’s mask, smiles, and departs peacefully. he knows he should follow, to keep an eye on her. but instead, he remains, moving steadily closer to the shade. he must discover the truth.

   they didn’t think anyone was awake, which explains a lot.

   mechanical legs click with every step they took, mostly exploring the area before determining a place to hide short-term. when eyes meet, they’re quick to pull their hood up to hide certain details about them, almost letting out a startled squeak. “oh, s- sorry!” the hybrid whispers, keeping their distance.

   “i th– i thought i was alone around here.”

you are not the only one who thought you were alone, the squint of his eyes seems to say. ikiryo had come this far for a moment of reprieve, but it seems to be a common spot. they are all here for the same reason. they all want to help. but it also seems they are all exhausted by large crowds of people.

the sight of the monk is one to nearly bring Him to his knees. 

He has heard of zenyatta through genji, through gossip, through even the whispers of the elders. a young omnic with a silver tongue capable of softening even the hardest of hearts. a true protegee of mondatta; one that would, given enough time, far outshine his master. how terrible, such a power; how young, this little master. 

a soft bow of his head is the only greeting the third shimada can offer. talking is still difficult, especially in this strange, overwhelming new place. but He will try. he must.

“good evening,” He nearly winces at the pain in his throat, “master zenyatta.”

try as they might, the little one is hardly a ninja.

their footsteps are loud, echoing across the roof as the cyborg attempts to bury himself in meditations. one eye opens, and then the other. his head turns, to acknowledge the newcomer. an eyebrow raises. it’s far too late for little ones to be outside, so what are you doing here?