#khoihuwi

“ dunno ‘bout unreasonable, love, but don’t know many people less selfish than you. ‘n i ain’t sure you’ve got a cruel bone in your body. “

she offers a small smile, eyes hesitant despite the warmth of her expression; worried about saying something wrong, worried about not being enough to provide whatever reassurance the other woman needs.

“ it was bad, yeah? after overwatch fell apart….. wherever you were after that, whatever you did- i know you were just tryin to help people. bein alone for so long is hard enough. ya don’t need to punish yourself even more. “

she knows better than anyone the pain of isolation. and the pain of blaming oneself for every life that couldn’t be saved. she just wishes she could take that pain from lucretia.

“you would be surprised,” murmurs the woman. years of self-exile and isolation had aged lucretia drastically; between her stress and the prototype staff, she looks every bit the seven years since overwatch’s disbandment. it had also taken a toll on her mentally, emotionally. but that, perhaps, is for another day. “the things i’ve done to come this far, lena, was...”

she didn’t want to think about it. she COULDN’T think about it. all the pain, all the lives she’d failed to save. her hands tremble as she clings to the staff. searching for its strength, its warmth, its protection. all those years, melded into one terrible, wonderful weapon.

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My Opinion on;

Character in general: holy shit i used to hate tracer. like when i was first getting into ow i’m just like pulling my hair out. and like now i’m just like i love u and i’d die for u. i even have a fun time playing her sometimes ngl. love my zippy wifeHow they play them: I WISH YOUR TRACER WAS CANON FFS. she is EVERYTHING. like even my widow can think about her without being violently ill that’s a SUPERPOWER. The Mun: you’re so cool caydin i’m just like heart eyes motherfucker. 

Do I:

RP with them: yeah! Want to RP with them:  y e ! 

What is my;

“hey.”

grasping fingers slide down her back to curl around the handle of the blade hidden in her clothes.

“you feelin’ okay? ...nothin’ wrong with that body of yours?”

a calloused thumb strokes the wrapped hilt of the knife, almost lovingly. with her left arm she reaches out to gesture towards lena, palm held upwards in an obvious invitation for her to respond. 

“’cause I’m pretty damn sure you've got something up -- so you’ve got about 20 seconds to spill.

just what the hell are you, walking around and pretending to be human?”

Trying her best not to fidget Rowan felt for incoming agents as much as she listened for them. Her companion needed time with the servers, and it was her job to buy it. Adjusting her grip on the staff, she wondered again if the mission was a bad idea. Scratch that, it was a bad idea, but here she was.

“Morrighan, progress report.” Reyes voice came through the comm, breaking radio silence at the appointed time. Talon must know they were here by now, what with the unconscious or dead guards and the hacker currently combing for sleeper agent files in their servers.

“Too quiet.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she heard something. Distant, echoing, distorted almost- laughter. High, inhuman laughter. “Get ready to run agent.” She warned the hacker, placing herself between him and the door. The intel was streaming to Blackwatch as she spoke, but he was still a valuable asset, her job was to keep him alive. But the closer the laughter got, the more a sense of dread settled in her stomach.

     Light fingers on a keyboard.

     There is a particular silence, a stillness to the air.

     A computer monitor illuminates gaunt features, casting ghastly shadows over otherwise pallid skin.

     Documents detailing all that was known about her target left her unsatisfied. Not much was known about her. Talon had their eye on her, leaving gatherings of  the Target’s text messages, emails, and recordings of phone calls splayed out across the computer screen at her disposal. 

     They were insufficient.

     Ever since the Geneticist had learned of this Target within her days of Blackwatch, she’d held interest. Everything that had happened had never quite left her mind. And what with what she heard from Ziegler only piqued her interest. But ... there was nothing she could do back then.

     But now ... With Talon’s sudden, growing curiosity in her ...

     ... Perhaps this was chance to finally make contact.

     She knew little about her. But by the lengthy phone conversations by which this person could babble on about the most insignificant details, she could harbor that she was naive. Full of enthusiasm ... though, sometimes seemed forced. One of those people-pleaser types.  Sometimes she seemed ... Desperate, even. 

     It was something she could definitely work with. 

     But overall through the information they had on her, nothing was what the Scientist was looking for. Sure it would aid Talon. Locations, hints on where to find her. Phone number, email address, even her personal address in London.

     So, precise fingers typed up an account for a fake email address, one looking much like it would come from the Ministries, but not her true email address.

     With an IP address to be scrambled every ten minutes thanks to a particular coworker of hers who had a knack for hacking, and with a little help, she added an invisible attachment that would create a self destruct and delete the email itself from her history.

     With that, she started a swiftly typed email:

               Lena Oxton,

               Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Moira O’Deorain.

               I would contrive this email to sound more business-like but I figure I ought to get straight to the point.

               During my stay in Overwatch facilities, I came across note of your condition of Chronal-Disassociation. However, I was not allowed access to offer any say when I see a clear solution that may help stabilize you.

              I know it is some years later, but now without the bonds of guided restrictions holding me down, I am finally able to extend an offer of help out to you. 

              If you are interested, I am located in Oasis, Iraq. The Ministry of Genetics.