“--- you know, i never asked. what age did you get the tattoo..? did it hurt? you’d think i would be immune to needles but the thought of one so close to my eye just makes me so squeamish..”
@wings-of-justice

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“--- you know, i never asked. what age did you get the tattoo..? did it hurt? you’d think i would be immune to needles but the thought of one so close to my eye just makes me so squeamish..”
@wings-of-justice
smol starter call.
smol starter call.
thc-blackwatch-commandcr:
“I’m doing alright. Finally got Morrison to clear Genji for the mission field.” Gabriel blew up an image of Moira, “Hired a doctor for Blackwatch. You might have seen and met her already”
There’s a crease between his brows now at the mention of the new doctor, “Genji has requested to stay in your care, and Jesse is insistent that he can take care of himself”
The Commander shakes his head and minimizes the image before pulling up a report and typing away, sighing heavily every few moments or so.
“Don’t ever try to become a Commander Ange. It’s a pain in the ass and I would not recommend it” Gabe teased with a slight smirk.
she eyes the image of moira blankly for a moment --- betrayed by a passing intense look that the angel-in-disguise failed to keep under wraps. yes, the ziegler family has had some history with the likes of her & none of it was clean or healthy. “i would have preferred that you consulted me before hiring a new doctor, gabriel.” she began diplomatically, though her tone carried the inflection of a scold. “my recommendation list does not involve those whose skill is based in plagiarised work.”
her gaze slid from the image of moira back to gabriel, the judgemental sapphire softening back to their motherly blue. the mention of his boys touched a fond smile to her lips. “ah, little loves. they have no need to worry, i intend to continue my work with genji & i supposed i will get through jesse’s stubbornness one of these days. if not through words, perhaps bending his ear might yield a better result..”
angela laughs, her face brightening with it. “--- oh, i have no intention of becoming a war commander, gabriel! i have too much work as overwatch’s chief physician regardless, especially when i have to clean up your team’s messes.” she grins cheekily. “& i can see, moira or not, i still will be assisting with such cleanups.”Â
You, poetry incarnate, must know, after all, that your very name is a poem.
Marina Tsvetaeva, from a letter to Rainer Maria Rilke c. May 1926 (via violentwavesofemotion)
I gave you lives, I gave you tragedies,
Louise Glück, from The Wild Iris: Poems; “Retreating Light,” (via violentwavesofemotion)
@heridesagain
colomardelosmuertos:
eyes darted back and forth pondering various means of escape but in the end the throbbing pain in her side won out.  she had no reason to trust the doctor and was almost sure that some alarm had already been activated somewhere.  any moment now they’d come busting through the door to restrain her.  making eye contact for a moment, her hand fell away to reveal the wound before she sank down to sit in the chair. if the doctor wanted consent, the closest she’d get to it was sombra leaning slightly away to give her a view of the injury.  while it wasn’t life threatening, the shot had gone deep enough to injure her internally.  “you are still my enemy … but I won’t hurt you if – if you – fix it.”  the words stammered slightly as her best efforts to conceal the pain were beginning to fail.
“save your threats for when you can follow them up, spion.” she’s had patients on the verge of consciousness spew out worse & far more cutting insults before, hardening the doctor to the weak empty threat the injured agent gave. kneeling down to the wound’s eye level, she took sombra’s silent consent to proceed, fingers nudging aside the half of a bloodied coat to inspect the injury. a metal bullet wound, judging from the lack of cauterisation.
it wasn’t ideal to perform any sort of surgery in the office without a proper bed to lay on, but she did a least wind the chair’s support back so that sombra wasn’t slouched. no doubt there would be protest trying to cart her to the ward & an endless amount of questioning from her staff. no, she’ll respect her want for secrecy for now.
“wait here.” she pulled away, her walk brisk enough to divert questions yet not paced in a way that’d cause alarm. she collected her gloves, her equipment & returned into her office, locking it shut. angela snapped on her gloves taking the general anaesthetic needle & squirting out any potential air. “i know you have no reason to trust me right now, but if you want to get out of here as fast as possible, i’m going to need your co-operation. please believe me when i say the safety of a life is my sworn oath.”
angela carefully rolled up sombra’s sleeve, offering her a sympathetic glance. “this will feel like a sharp scratch. it’ll help dull the pain.”
colomardelosmuertos:
a single hand balled into a fist as she heard the voice behind her.  sombra didn’t even bother turning around, she knew who it was.  it was a good thing her back was to the merciful one as she wouldn’t see the pain in her expression.  her other hand was clutched just below her ribs applying pressure to a not so fresh wound. a wound she’d broken in here to tend to. “mira, you’re not the one giving chances here, doctora.  go back, forget this and i will too.” @scphrosune​
“if you think i’m ...” the doctor’s words trail off as golden brows knit in assessment, gaze studying the back of the infiltrator. something wasn’t quite right, evident by the fact she didn’t seem keen to face her. pistol drawn for her own safety, she approached her & circled around to her front --- a soft gasp followed by a short curse under her breath. she was injured. it made a little more sense now.
“i can not in good conscious leave someone hurt.” angela stuffs the sidearm back into it’s holster, dragging the comfier officer chair closer to sombra, her voice taking on a strict instruction. “--- enemy or not. sit. i’m going to ask you once for consent to look at & treat the wound.”
"she was fickle. it was in her nature to be so. yet no matter how often she took flight, how often the wind changed direction, her feet touched the ground eventually. her wings needed their rest.Â
he was always there for her, as he’d always been.” -- the sky has fallen.
@heridesagain
“i will give you one chance to explain your purpose here before i contact the authorities.” true to her name of MERCY, even as her hand strays towards her caduceus blaster, stony gaze like diamond, despite her uncertainty. “i am sure whatever you are looking for, you cannot find it here.” even if she had no idea what sombra was searching for.. if anything at all.
@colomardelosmuertos
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AU Moodboards [8/?] - Overwatch!Forest Spirits AU & MercyHog Aesthetic
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one. ― Khalil Gibran
@apmeka // @scphrosune
thc-blackwatch-commandcr:
Gabriel had long since shed his beanie, unkempt curls wild from the times he’d dragged his habds through it. His gaze burned through the holographic displays before him, and it was fairly easy to tell that he wasn’t retaining a damn thing from them.
The Blackwatch Commander leaned back in his chair with a sharp exhalation in defeat, “I’ve been avoiding paperwork for days and it’s catching up with me Ange”
His head lolled to look in her direction and he waved a hand that was meant to beckon her in.
“You don’t need to ask permission, propriety is for Morrison”
“och, that’s not good. though i can’t even begin to imagine the amount of red tape you have to navigate for even the smallest mission..” she enters, the door automatically closing shut behind her now that she wasn’t blocking the doorway. angela herself looked a little worse for wear, still in her clinic scrubs & her name tag haphazardly pinned, threatening to fall off. whereas the commander had paperwork to finish, she had research to do & it was turning out to be a whole lot more tedious than she expected.
angela lowered herself into the seat facing him, legs crossed, though her posture was noticeably a lot more slouched than the prim & proper doctor most saw her as. “--- thank you. my visit is personal, though. i was wondering how you have been? given our positions it’s rare we manage to even steal a bit of time for ourselves.” a short chuckle, then she sobered up just as quickly.Â
heridesagain:
How right she was - and how wrong, all the same. He stood strong, still, as he had done throughout centuries, proud and indomitable, fearing no enemy, no treacherous blow. Times were changing quickly, it seemed. And the earth? The earth was patient. The earth would endure. But it would not keep up with the pace of its youngest. The parasites. They were still nothing but children, lost in their pride and stubbornness. They had to be taught, if even by force.
He could not die, no. He could wither. He could be corrupted - the forest had seen it before and would see it again. He did not fear it. Never had. He couldn’t allow himself such luxuries as doubt. For all of its creations, the earth had to stand tall. The earth had to endure. To create. To uphold.
It wasn’t his duty to live. It was to survive. Not only for her. For all and every single one of them. But maybe… just maybe… her approval might make the fight a tad more bearable. Too much life, too much of it… her sheer presence was exhausting. But her words, her touch, the way she made his soul light up in an all-consuming flame - it was worth it. The earth is patient. Not fleeting, like the clouds in the sky, like the gust of wind, her lips on his cheek. He wasn’t made for this kind of feeling. He wasn’t made to let the fire engulf and consume him. He would stand tall. He would endure. No matter how faint her touch let him become. The earth would not burn out and for that, it could not burn brightly for longer than a brief moment.Â
“Do you intend to stay, dove?“ The previously harsh tone of his voice is gone, large fingers reaching out to softly caress her pale, porcelain skin. Not a single flaw or taint to be found; nothing but cold, cruel perfection. Unnatural perfection. Nothing in nature grows to be unblemished.Â
despite all that roamed upon his ground, all that sought to damper his flame or destroy their sanctuary in the forest, he was a bastion; a stalwart spirit that seemed so untouchable. they both knew the truth, though. she could still fondly remember the foxes before their balance was disturbed by a WOLF in their burrow. the calm, orderly canines that were angela’s eyes & ears. favoured by their deathly aspect, their leader had grown so lax. so trusting, even when the opportunist’s maws were around their throat. now they were torn asunder, left bereft of a figure to look up to, her presence ABANDONING them as she moved on. she wondered if mako will meet the same fate.
she was fuel. she was accelerate. a few drops of water to feed a plant turned into a drowning river. the dove was too much & yet if there were anyone that were built to endure both bounty & pestilence, it was he. thus, he had her favour for now. too much attention given, personal appearances where some spirits could live their lifetime with only seeing a feather.
she leans her cheek against his roughened palms, laboured hands that had worked the earth, callus & rough & very much real, in comparison to the slender, soft fingers of hers resting over the back of his hand. she looked as fresh as a healthy sprig. it’d never changed in the countless eons.Â
“for now,” she answers, because it’s useless to promise otherwise. “--- for now i am grounded to the earth. my wings folded. you know better than to expect anything else.”
her head turns to catch his large fingers in another scalding kiss. there was one key difference, one that she does not admit. for all the times she had taken off & lingered in the sky ... she always returned to the earth. maybe in one day. maybe in ten thousand years, but no matter how long, she returned to this point, arms & wings enveloping the boar. a cruel, fleeting love she expressed.. but one that was true & more lasting than the rest.
“why am i not surprised to catch you at such late an hour, commander?” there’s a touch of tiredness to her otherwise low voice, accented with a hint of a smile as she stands, arms folded, at the doorway of his office. as much as it was in her jurisdiction to order rest, she has no intention of doing so .. yet. “--- may i come in?”
@thc-blackwatch-commandcr
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