moira when reyes shot antonio
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@corruptedbiotics
moira when reyes shot antonio
@therealricksanchezpleasestandup
moira’s new voiceline
i have never played overwatch
therealricksanchezpleasestandup.
He’d been called into the headquarters just before it all happened. Rick was sure to slink back into his portal the first moment that he saw a rush of opposing forces rushing through the halls and almost killed him.
Rick Sanchez wasn’t going to be there for that–he wasn’t paid to help defend this shitty company. He was just here to vend them shit that he supposedly made just for them when in reality he’d been stealing various weaponry from all kinds of dimensions.
All that acting of being exhausted when he’d stumble into the rooms where he was to show off the recent invention? Always a show. Always fake and staged. But right now, as the portal opened up just right outside of one of the main halls leaning to Moira’s wing, he’d be wondering if he would even get any more chances to pull off such stunts.
The door leading to her lab is what ignited curiosity and led the seventy year old man to slowly try and open the door, only for it to fall right off the hinges and fall forward into the room, revealing a handful of corpses, plenty of rubble and remains, small inklings of leftover flames, and smack dab off near one of the darkest parts of the room, there she was. The only other living figure in the room, curled up and clutching liquid therapy in hand.
Stepping over various shards and rubble, he makes his way over to and stops just in front of her.
He gives the room one last look around. Nothing has changed in the last minute. This is real. It happened. The room is not even recognizable from what it once was. No one would be able to look in here and ever guess that it was once a lab.
Despite her aloofness, he doesn’t leave.
Instead, he extends a hand towards her. An offer to assist her, to help her at least stand up.
“…”
Silence right now for a moment she might have thought he’d be talking the most.
She expects a great many things from him -- a pleased, sarcastic remark. Outright laughter. All she’d seen the insufferable man capable of within the time she knew him. Her tongue a poisonous, barbed whip ready to lash out at the first prod against her wounded state. But it seemed he still intended to continue the tradition of being irritably unpredictable.
The hand that came into view was proof of that.
Her drunken tirade drew to a halt, jaw clenched tight and eyes staring hard at the outstretched palm. Instinctively, she mistrusted the seemingly amiable gesture -- tempted to slap the offending appendage out of the way. To stand up on her own and shrug it off and demand him out. But she knew full well the odds of standing in her inebriated state were catastrophically low. On so many levels, Moira wanted to simply waste away and wallow in her misery. But now she couldn’t stomach the idea of prolonging it. In front of him of all people.
“ -- I see. ” Came the slow rumble, mismatched eyes narrowing their focus as she met his gaze once more. Lips set into a grim line and shoulders tensed up, she seemed near ready to fight. But instead only defeat crept its way onto her features. Exhaustion as she lifted a hand to clumsily grab his own.
“ Perhaps you w’ll make better use of their resources sho’ld they rebuild my lab. I doubt it -- ten years. Wasted. Truly ‘nough t’make me wretch, ” a low growl as the woman came to a full stand, posture holding up remarkably well for someone well past their own alcoholic tolerance. And hers was quite the substantial amount. “ No matter. Early retirement only means I shall create ‘n incurable, tissue eating organism ‘n hold the world ransom. Or buy ‘nother doberman. I’ve not yet decided. ”
A pause, eyes heavy lidded and watching him with a surprising sharpness.
“ What’of you, then? What plans for this laughable organization. ”
do not trust this woman
They tried to silence me
Hollow. That was the only way she could truly describe what she felt in that moment.
Talon headquarters had been attacked. No warning. Ill prepared for an assault that, though it survived -- it was not without casualties. And one of those casualties had been her lab. Ruined beyond repair. Charred remains of experiments and sheets. . . Shattered glass and fried mechanical panels. It was a living nightmare and she knew full well there was no waking up from it.
That was how he found her. Slumped against the furthest wall in the hollowed out room, shoulders hunched and three quarters deep in a sizable bottle of vodka. Miserable and decidedly unlike herself. There were no tears from her. But her eyes spoke volumes in which she refused to let the rest of her show.
At the sound of cracking glass, Moira barely lifted her head to stare down the other. Squinting at him as she made no move to right her disheveled, tattered appearance. She simply let out a cold, bark of laughter and dropped her head to the wall behind her - bottle of alcohol pressed tightly between her legs.
“ I’m in no mood for you. ” Her accent was much heavier with the vodka in her veins, syllables low and drawn out to a near growl. She gestured with her bloodied, experiment marked hand at the room and leveled him with her best scowl.
“ As you can see - I’ve nothing for you to lord yerself over now. It’s all gone. Bloody bastards attacked the one place I care ‘bout -- an’ now I have nothing. ”
| @therealricksanchezpleasestandup plotted a thing.
Reblog this if your muse is bi.
Takes a few of her beakers. He needs them, okay. Or maybe he just needs to be yelled at some more.
From the first clink of glass, Moira's movements became completely still. Head slowly rising from where it had been focused solely on tissue sample, it turned towards the source. Unblinking and completely stoic -- for she only knew one person who would possess enough stupidity to pull it off.
“ I wouldn’t take those if I were you. ”
One minute she had stood tall and statuesque near her own samples -- the next she was a moving shadow. Each step doubled in size until she was right next to him. The smoke solidified and she was whole once more, body flush against his back and looming right behind him. Hand reaching out, the redhead daintily plucked one of the beakers out of his palm as she leaned in close. Her lips right next to his ear.
“ Buy your own. I do not lend out my things to others . . . Especially those who would help themselves to them as if they were nothing more than a pilfering rat.
Do I make myself clear. ”
does it still count as murder if the other person was already dead to me
I love herrrrrrr qwqqqqqqqqq
@therealricksanchezpleasestandup asked if moira was into pokemon. she obviously would be ( catch her playing pokemon go on her work breaks ). . . so i had to make her a trainer card.
tfw you're in a mood but you’re too busy doing science so you do your science in quiet frustration.
Moira seldom gets drunk but whenever she does she goes off