“There’s blood on your hands.” For Moira!
BLOODY SENTENCE STARTERS | Accepting!
Echo wasn’t blind, and she wasn’t stupid. She had to have known about what Blackwatch did, and she had to have known what it was that was going on in the world. She was innocent in the sense that all blank slates were; a shame, truly. To think of something so advanced, so promising as little more than a weapon.
What were they using her for?
“Literally, or metaphorically?”
People didn’t come into the lab while Moira was working, certainly not after a mission. Certainly not after she did whatever witchcraft that she did because whatev er it was Doctor O’Deorain sure as shit couldn’t call what she did science... could she? Disappearing into nothingness? Pulling the life from a man until he was little more than a husk? Extending her hand until something like light and fog and mist came out and its mere touch made someone... well? It couldn’t have been science, no matter how often the woman explained it.
In truth, she never explained it; no one ever asked. No one dared ask, not after the things she’d been so willing to publish. It was better for Overwatch, and even Blackwatch, to not know the particulars. They’d no desire to read the contract they’d signed with the woman with one red eye.
She looked down, back over a sample of... something. Something that bled red red red
“Oh,” and she laughs, the sound almost humanizing. Humored. “It would appear the answer is both.” Moira shook her head, “Did you lose your cowboy, dear?”
