45, Mercy and Moira facing off in battle? (Not in a shippy way, just good old enemies)
45. “You don’t scare me.”
Okay, going to actually try to keep this one under 1000 words like i planned with these prompts, lol.
----
Moira heard the door open and shut behind her in the lab but didn’t glance away from the monitor. “The new compound is almost ready, Gabriel,” she said, staring at the screen, “A few more minutes of incubation and you’ll be unstoppable--”
“Put your hands behind your head and step away from the table,” a steady swiss accented voice spoke behind her. Moira glanced over her shoulder to see Mercy holding her caduceus blaster at the ready.
“My my... the pacifist waving guns around...Why am I not surprised?” said Moira, glancing back at the monitor, “Here without your ninja-in-shining armor?”
“The rest of the team will be here, soon,” Mercy started, “Your work ends here.”
Moira gave a dismissive “Mm-mm” and a wave as she kept her eyes fixed on the monitor. Mercy gave a frustrated huff and there was a loud ‘pew’ as Moira felt pulsefire whiff by a few inches from the side of her head and pierce the monitor, causing it to fizzle and go black and smoke with a spiderweb of cracks now branching up from a lower-right corner of it. Moira finally turned around to face Mercy, fully. “I’ll be billing you for that.”
“Hands behind your head!” Mercy barked and Moira sighed and complied. “I saw the lab footage. Whatever you were injecting into those rabbits, you won’t inject it into Reyes. You won’t turn him into... that.”
“And you expect me to turn him over to your ‘capable’ hands?” Moira stepped forward and Mercy brought up her caduceus blaster more insistently, “No. You won’t stop us, Angela. Try as you might, you can’t stop evolution.”
“What you and Reyes have done to yourselves is not evolution!” said Mercy.
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” said Moira, itching at her eyebrow. Mercy suddenly flinched at the sight of her withered hand--now jet-black and veined with red and violet like petroleum iridescence, “You aren’t a true scientist. You’re ruled by trauma, antiquated and arbitrary morality, and fear.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” said Mercy.
“You should be,” Moira’s voice sounded darker, wetter, “Because, my dear Doctor Ziegler, have you forgotten?” Moira tilted her head, violet veins creeping up over her jawline as her pupils dilated, black nanite secretions dripping out from under her silver half-mask, “I don’t give Gabriel anything I haven’t tested on myself first.”
Mei only meant to fit in a quick power nap before getting back to sorting through her data, but then again, the couch in the lab was dangerous like that. Made even more dangerous with the thin-but-warm quilt they had been using to cover up the more worn spots in the cushions. As soon as her body was horizontal, sleep pulled her down like an anchor, and a part of her resigned herself to this fate. Sure she would be dealing with a much larger and more unruly dataset later, but it might not seem so frightening with a decent sleep.
It was the faint smell of smoke that first stirred Mei from her dreamless sleep. None of the Watchpoint alarms seemed to be going off, but she did hear Snowball chirping indignantly as sleep faded off of her. She blearily opened her eyes to see two wide yellow-orange eyes only a few inches from her own and the faintest hint of breath on her nose. Her eyes snapped open and she shrieked, instinctively swatting out with her arm and smacking the too-close face hard across the jaw, sending the intruder rearing back. Mei sat bolt upright on the couch, only to see a familiar precarious figure in the dark of the lab.
“Jamison!” Mei blurted out, sitting upright on the couch and gripping the blanket over herself.
“Oww--Sorry--” Junkrat was rubbing at his jaw.
“Were you watching me sleep?!” Mei’s voice was a near shriek as she fumbled around for her glasses.
“Wha-? Ow--No!” said Junkrat, still gripping his jaw, “Jeez-us, how’d you hit that hard when you’re only half-awake?”
“What are you doing stooped over my face like that?!” Mei shot back.
“I wasn’t watching you sleep!” said Junkrat, “I really thought you’d be awake, I did! You do burn the midnight oil, y’know.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re in my--!” Mei started and then looked around and remembered she was not in fact in her bedroom, “...lab,” she finished the sentence, trying to maintain her indignation.
“Which is why I thought you’d be awake?” said Junkrat, shifting his jaw back and forth, “I...I dunno. I walked in, and I saw you were on the couch, and I looked closer to check if it was like a power nap thing or you were asleep-asleep--And... and I guess... I dunno. I never see you without your glasses. I kind of zoned out. And then you hit me in the face.”
“Junkrat, you were inches away from me,” said Mei, finally managing to find her glasses and put them on.
“It...didn’t really occur to me how close I was until you hit me.” He fidgeted with his prosthetic arm slightly.
“Seriously?” Mei said flatly.
“Mei, in all the months you’ve known me, how strong do you think my concept of ‘personal space’ is?” said Junkrat.
Mei briefly and vividly remembered Junkrat giving Hanzo a hearty slap on the back post mission and then immediately getting judo-slammed onto the ground. She remembered the Jack instinctively knocking one of Junkrat’s teeth out when Junkrat had spoken up too closely and too quickly next to him. She remembered the time Junkrat had stumbled into her lab with Hammond hanging off of his face, rodent teeth deeply embedded in his cheek.
“...Not very strong,” said Mei, after a few beats, “...I’m honestly amazed you’re still alive.”
Junkrat jabbed a thumb at himself proudly, “Cockroach,” he said, grinning.
Mei made a face.
“A nice cockroach,” said Junkrat.
“Jamison, was there a reason you were coming into my lab in the middle of the night?” said Mei, flatly.
“Well I was on a mission with Tin-Arse--”
“Genji,” said Mei.
“Yeah, him, and the bloke was dozing off in the orca and I say to him ‘What’s going on with you’ and he says, ‘I am just resting’ and I say ‘yeah but you’re not doing your little criss-cross-applesauce thing’ and he goes ‘no that’s medsterbating--”
“Meditating,” said Mei.
“Yeah that’s what he said. So I say to him---”
“What does this have to do with me?” said Mei.
“Well he just--He said he was talking pretty late with the Doc the night before and of course I tell him ‘that’s stupid you had a mission, ya drongo’ but then I remembered... you... spend a lot of time alone in the lab, too--Well, I mean of course you’ve got your roomba--”
Snowball chirped indignantly from its charging station in the corner of the lab.
“But the little roomba doesn’t seem particularly... conversational. So I just... thought... someone ought to check on you.”
“...you came into my lab... because you thought I was lonely,” said Mei.
“I didn’t say lonely,” said Junkrat, “But you were a popsicle for 9 years---”
Mei flinched a little at this.
“And you just keep working---” Junkrat went on, “And... I know the old man is all ‘The front lines are no place for a scientist’ but just because he’s saying that shit doesn’t mean you have to act all tough and I just--someone ought to check up on you now and again and I couldn’t very well go ‘Oi, Roadie, go check up on Snow-puff’ or ‘Oi Doc, check up on snow-puff’ so I figured---” he caught himself, “I’m...this is a lot, isn’t it?”
“It’s a lot to wake up to,” said Mei, running a hand through her hair and laughing a little nervously.
“Just... thinking about it was keeping me up, is all,” said Junkrat, glancing off and itching at his hairline, he suddenly tensed up, alarmed, “Not--not that I’m staying up at night thinking about you! No one’s staying up late thinking about anyone, here! That would be--! Ha! Can you imagine? Ridiculous...”
Mei just blinked a few times in response to this.
Junkrat cleared his throat. “Anyway,” he said, backing away from the couch, “Sleep. You--you were sleeping and I’ll just... let you do that.”
He walked backwards with a well handled jauntiness despite his peg leg and kept a casual finger gun at her with his prosthetic while his other hand flailed blindly behind him for the door panel.
“Jamison?” Mei said as he finally managed to hit the panel to get the door open.
“Mm?” Junkrat glanced up.
“Thank you,” said Mei, “For your concern. I... I don’t think I can really talk about it yet, but it does mean a lot that you’re willing to listen.”
“Just say the word, Snow pea,” said Junkrat.
“And Jamison?” said Mei.
“Yeah?”
“...please learn personal space,” said Mei.
“Yeah, working on it...” said Junkrat feeling at his jaw, before he headed out the door, “Only got so many teeth left.”
The box appeared outside the gates of the watchpoint some time in the small hours of the morning, Christmas day. All the watchpoint security cameras picked up was a spiral of black smoke and the box just... appearing there. It was wrapped in twine and brown paper, with a “To: Aedan” tag and a “Do not open until Christmas” stamp on it. The poor little box had gone through the gauntlet being scanned by every device imaginable on the watchpoint. All confirmed. No electrical bugging. No corrosive or explosive materials. No Vishkar tech. Aedan was still in his pajamas (or rather the Overwatch logo-slathered sweats which he used as pajamas) when Jack had summoned him to Winston’s lab, at a weary 5 in the morning, to hand him the box.
“Is this from you?” said Aedan, looking over the box.
Jack shook his head.
“...Do I have to open it in front of you?” said Aedan.
“I wish I could say, ‘I don’t think Talon would pull anything on Christmas,’ but I wouldn’t put it past them,” said Jack, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.
He handed Aedan a boxcutter and Aedan cut the twine, tore past the brown paper, and cut the tape securing the box open. Jack leaned over his shoulder slightly as Aedan pulled out an old pair of his skinny jeans, a new pair of corduroy pants, several of his old shirts (the blackstar shirt, the Velvet Underground shirt, a tacky gag shirt that read ‘Pipette, Cry, Repeat,’ and two dress shirts), old and new underwear, and one of those athletic wear quarter-zip base layer wool tops in black, new.
“Well.. you won’t have to keep borrowing stuff from around the watchpoint as much,” Jack said with a shrug as Aedan pulled out a small envelope from the interior of the box. It was all done up in the fancy stationery of his mother’s Ministry of Genetics office, even embossed with a wax seal that bore the stylized double-helix of her office. Aedan didn’t think looking at something as boring as stationery would make him miss Oasis that much harder, but it did. He opened the letter.
Dear Aedan, (And I assume Jack or Ana or the ape or whoever’s reading this because they’re probably treating you like a criminal at best there)---
Aedan gave a glance to Jack, who was reading over his shoulder, and Jack gave a quiet scoff, before looking back at the letter.
This is not forgiveness. This is not acceptance. This is only so you might have slightly more dignity while you’re on that Watchpoint (if they don’t burn this package like the animals they are). I acknowledge that you are my son and my creation and my responsibility, but I also acknowledge that you are your own person, and that you can make your own decisions (however terrible they may be). You have gone beyond my protection, and you are choosing to protect a world that will not protect you--it either takes a great deal of fearlessness or a great deal of stupidity to do that, and I know you take after me, so it must be mostly the former. You know I have never been one for blind faith or sentiment, and as such I have never placed much stock in these holidays. I will say that your presence in my life gave them more merit and your absence now makes them far more difficult than they ever were before. I don’t know what the future holds for you, but you may as well have some proper clothes to face it with.
You are my greatest creation. I hope you never forget that, and I hope the world sees that, someday.
Nollaig shona duit, a thaisce,
Mum
Aedan closed the letter and tucked it back into the envelope.
“Sure manages to turn ‘I miss you’ into a mouthful, huh?” said Jack.
“Yes,” Aedan smiled a little, but then that smile faded.
Jack awkwardly patted his shoulder. “This can’t be easy... first Christmas here, and all.”
“I can manage,” Aedan folded up some of the clothes he had taken out and put them back in the box, “Any plans?”
“Same old,” said Jack with a shrug, “If you want to spend your Christmas triangulating terrorist locations...”
“I’m good, thanks,” said Aedan, picking up the box.
-----
Aedan slept in another few hours that Christmas morning, had a light, lonely breakfast in the Watchpoint mess hall and returned to his quarters at the watchpoint dormitories. He was folding and putting away his new and old clothing in the locker at the foot of his bed when he accidentally knocked the box over pulling out the pair of corduroys and a small holographic-red foil wrapped object bounced out of the bottom of the box and rolled a little bit. Aedan picked it up and found it was a Christmas cracker.
“Not without your sense of humor, are you, Mum?” he said quietly. He wasn’t sure if it was an attempt at being festive or some sense of holiday traditions on her end, or if she was making clear how alone he was this holiday without someone to hold the other end of the tube. In any case, he shrugged and took hold of both ends of the foil. Might as well, he thought, pulling on the ends of it.
“Merry Christmas!” a clear voice cut across the room and Aedan flinched hard at the sudden sound, sundering the Christmas cracker with a loud pop. He looked over his shoulder to see Rei in the stairwell down to the dorms with a small wrapped package under her arm.
Aedan exhaled. “You really ought to give me more warning before you sneak up on me like that.”
Rei rolled her eyes and continued down the stairs, “I wasn’t ‘sneaking,’” she said with a smile, “Though I am naturally undetectable by the untrained eye...” she spoke with mock gravitas and then made a chopping motion with her hand.
“Ninja,” both she and Aedan said at the same time and Rei snickered, “What was that? The popping?”
Aedan held up one half of the destroyed Christmas cracker. “Just... this—it’s stupid, don’t worry about it,” he said quietly, setting it aside.
“Huh... cool. Anyways--Here,” she held the box out to him.
“Oh--you didn’t have to--you really shouldn’t have--” Aedan started.
“I wanted to,” said Rei, holding the box out to him.
“When I say ‘You shouldn’t have’ I mean, ‘I don’t have anything to give you,’” said Aedan, glancing off.
“Aedan, I would literally be dead without you and you gave up everything to be here,” said Rei pushing the box forward, “Come on.”
Aedan bit the inside of his lip and took the box from her. The wrapping paper itself had some kind of nonsensical unicorns-in-santa-hats pattern on it and was hemorrhaging glitter. She watched with a smile on her face as he unwrapped it and lifted the lid off of the box. Inside was a round, flattened cylindrical object, roughly hand-sized in diameter.
“You said you missed your music the most right?” said Rei, “And you were also into like... ridiculously outdated stuff like vinyl or phonograms or whatever.”
“Just vinyl,” said Aedan, picking up the object out of the box, “This looks pre-crisis as well, though.”
“It’s a ‘C-D player!’” said Rei, as Aedan turned the object over, “Athena helped me, ‘burn a disc’ for it--which is what they called making music discs back then? That’s kind of dumb...like, why would you call it ‘burning,’ you know? Oh! Here!”
She pressed a button on top of the CD player, opening it up to reveal a CD covered with marker drawings and the words “Welcome to the Watchpoint” written in spiky letters.
“It’s got old and new stuff, Rajeev and Marti helped out, too,” said Rei, “We can burn another if you don’t like—“
She suddenly found herself caught up in a tight hug.
“Go raibh maith agat,” his voice was muffled into her shoulder.
Rei smiled and patted his back. “Yeah! Uh... gurra ma-hagot to you too!”
A chuckle shook Aedan as he broke away from her with his hands on her shoulders. “I—sorry,” he pulled his hands away from her, “I can’t thank you enough for this. I really—I wish I could give you something...”
“Well you could handle dishes tonight,” said Rei, crossing her arms slyly.
“Dishes?” Aedan tilted his head.
“Y’know, after dinner,” said Rei.
“Dinner—you mean Christmas dinner.”
“Well yeah— Uncle Jesse always cooks way too much and the Amaris are over in Canada and—“
“You’re inviting me to Christmas dinner...” Aedan said the words, trying to make sense of them.
“Mm-hm!” Rei nodded, all bright eyes and wide smiles.
“Your mum hates me—“ Aedan started.
“Christmas armistice. If she can put up with Uncle Hanzo, she can put up with you. She’ll be nice. Promise,” said Rei, “And I’ve got your back.”
Aedan stood there, stunned for a few seconds. “Y-yes,” he managed at last, “I’d love to.”
“You know where our apartment is, right? Be there at 4!” said Rei, backing towards the stairwell, “We start early!”
“Right—early,” Aedan said, glancing over at the pile of clothes on his bed. His eyes flicked to the Christmas cracker, “Wait!” he blurted out, picking it up.
Rei paused on the stairwell as Aedan stepped up toward her. He picked through the Christmas cracker and gingerly unfolded a gold foil crown. “It’s... not a proper present but...” he trailed off and set the crown on her head. Normally the crowns from those poppers were annoyingly loose around the head, but the thickness of her hair kept the crown well-positioned. She looked better than most in it. Or maybe he just thought she looked better than most all the time. He wasn’t sure.
Rei adjusted the crown on her head slightly and smiled, “It’s perfect,” she said smiling.
“There’s a terrible joke that comes with it,” said Aedan, holding up a small slip of paper from the Christmas cracker.
“Save it for Uncle Jesse,” said Rei, gently chucking him on the chin, “Four o’ clock.”
“Four o’ clock,” Aedan repeated after her as she hurried up the stairs.The words sounded almost magical.
“Four o’ clock!” Rei’s voice trailed behind her even as she disappeared past the top of the stairs.
“Four o’ clock,” Aedan said quietly as Rei slipped off. His shoulders slumped slightly in a dreamlike stupor, as he stared up the stairwell. He stood there smiling for a few moments, but then he suddenly perked up. “Shit, I need to cook something.”
Hey Sarah €: Does Mercy enjoy horse riding? Would she teach it to 12 year old Rei? Would Rei like it? How good are Genji’s riding skills? Was he maybe forced to learn it as a child in Shimada tradition? Has he been riding since then? How does a horse react to his Cybernetic body? Is he because of this even able to ride on a horse anymore?
The thing about Overwatch’s future is that clearly technology is advanced enough so that presumably there are options for swift individual travel that don’t involve as many variables as and risk to animals as horseback riding. While I’m sure horseback riding would still be very practical for farm work and still be popular for sport and recreation, it wouldn’t generally be something you see Overwatch members doing unless it’s under very special circumstances.
I’d say everyone’s horseback riding experience is “Competent but marginal.” Mercy learned to horseback ride during her years of relief work when she had to move quickly into rough terrain into rural areas where the Valkyrie suit might attract too much attention. Rei learned more horseback riding from Uncle Jesse in the southwest. Genji and Hanzo learned horseback riding with the Shimada clan but it wasn’t nearly as emphasized as it was in previous centuries of the Shimada clan’s history since at that point much of the Shimada clan was much more adapted to urban environments. Basically horseback riding for Genji and Hanzo served as this sort of… “learning patience and discipline and how to read subtle changes in body language” thing and you didn’t really see any horseback riding when it came to Actual Ninja Stuff. Genji can still ride horses with his cybernetics, but they usually have to be pretty old and even-tempered horses because they do spook easier with his appearance and the feel of his prosthetics.
What was my muse’s last serious relationship like? What is my muse’s ideal date?
sex+romance headcanons!
👠 What was my muse’s last serious relationship like?
Exhausting, and it was for the best that they separated. She doesn't hold any animosity for how it all went down, and he seems to be doing far better now.
💯 What is my muse’s ideal date?
An ideal date is one than incites her and her date to walk around/explore. Festivals, parks-- concerts are iffy because they tend to be overcrowded, but smaller music events in towns are nice. Somewhere they can blend in but not be overwhelmed by crowds.
"Dry your tears,wear your pirate smile with pride. Though people run from the song of your creaking metal joints and your scars you never asked for, know that I will love you no matter what you are this Halloween, for you are my dear sweet child"
A little poem about Genji and his adopted Coast Salish cyborg daughter, Aria on their first Halloween together with Little Aria as a steampunk fairy princess. Aria's adopted mother Mercy went a little overboard in creating her costume.
I wanted to get this in before Halloween ends.
I seriously need to get back to practicing drawing one day
Rain pelted the glass in front of her and slid in tiny droplets down the panes of her windowed room. The overlooking cliffs that spanned the Oceanside made her loneliness far more burdensome than usual, and her expression crept into a dark and troubled one. Gibraltar was so far… Far from the one thing that truly made her happy in all the conflict and war. “Doctor Ziegler? You never came down for dinner. Winston made peanut butter sandwiches…again!” Angela turned her gaze from the window long enough to see the short but lithe figure standing in her doorway. She held a small mug of hot chocolate which she placed carefully on a nightstand near the bed in the corner. “I'm sorry, Lena. I haven't quite felt like myself today”, she held up a hand and stopped the shorter woman before she could part her lips to speak, “And don't you worry, it's nothing serious. I am not ill”. Lena gave her a broad smile and seemed to straighten in her posture. Positive words always seems to have that effect on Tracer and when Angela felt like getting the optimistic woman off of her rear, she'd spout a few lines of feel good jibberish to save her sanity. “Oh! Well, if you'd like, I can make some soup. I told Winston that not everyone would like the sandwiches but he insisted, and who am I to stop him?”. Angela smiled warmly and took a last glance at the lapping waves beneath her vantage point. How silly to watch the ocean anyways. No one would be arriving by boat this day. The two made their way down several flights of stairs that clunked like an old truck with each step. A main chamber connected all of the various hallways of the Watchpoint and computer screens lined nearly every crevice one could look at. In the midst of it all sat a massive gorilla that rearranged his glasses when he peered up at the descending two. “Ah, Doctor Ziegler! We haven’t seen much of you today and I was starting to worry. Food is in the mess hall if you're hungry.” “I'm afraid that not everyone considers your usual meals to be food, Winston.” A voice rang clearly around them but no one seemed to own the disembodied voice, and yet, none of them seemed panicked by it either. Winston’s attention drew towards the monitor in front of him and grimaced, “Well that's just rude, Athena”. “I believe what I offered was constructive criticism, but it would seem we have far more pressing matters. Perhaps you'd better discuss such things with your team.” Angela stood, poised, at the bottom of the stairs as she'd been relieved by some human interaction despite the ones in front of her being an AI and a gorilla. Tracer had managed to disappear to the mess hall and return with a mouthful of sandwich and a smear of peanut butter across her button nose. At the mention of “pressing matters” both of the women stopped and perked their brows at one another. Tracer spoke first between bites. “Wessing watters? Whaddaya wean?” Winston seemed to heave a sigh and habitually moved a giant finger to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Athena has been tracking some of Talon’s movement, especially after the spook just before I sent out the call. She's not quite certain what to make of some interactions out there, but we do know that Jesse McCree is still en route to the Watchpoint and his penchant for meandering is causing a pause in our efforts. It doesn’t quite help that Genji has ghosted off on his own either.” Angela flinched at something and Tracer easily caught the movement. She didn't say anything to the blonde woman, but furrowed her brows at Winston instead, “You said interactions. What did you mean by that?”. Winston shifted in the large tire that he used for a chair and raised a hand to tap a few things into a holographic key panel which Athena projected in a glowing orange hue. Before all of them, a series of pictures popped up one at a time and cycled. Each one showed some manner of a blurry figure in a red, white, and blue jacket with a metallic visor to obscure his face…not that the quality would have mattered ether way. Winston rose just enough so that he could motion to the man in the photos and grunted, “This guy showed up recently in Mexico and we’re not sure what to make of him. I can't decide if he's part of Talon and hanging out with that Reaper guy, but I get a bad feeling when I look at him.” “There's something oddly familiar about him… It's a shame the pictures aren't more clear…”, everyone turned to look at Angela who now stood in an almost standoffish pose. One arm crossed over her breasts and she refused to look at he others, “You'd think that in our time there'd be less potatoes for cameras”. To the side, a series of giggles started that erupted into a rather boisterous laugh for such a small woman. Tracer held her stomach before raising a hand to wipe the tears from her eyes, “I’m sorry, Doctor. I’d forgotten you could joke!”. Angela pursed her lips for a moment before offering a defeated expression. She'd been serious but the others seemed to miss her stern and overly critical judgement. “Regardless, Winston, I’m morbidly curious about the roles you wish us to play in all this. I thought I was clear in that I didn't wish to don the suit again unless it was absolutely necessary…”, the blonde’s tone was dead serious and she hoped it had gotten through to the one most likely to pick up on it. “Doctor Ziegler, I’m afraid I'm going to have to ask you to bring out the Valkyrie again. I don't have much choice.” “Winston… It's been ages since I've used it. I swore to myself that I wouldn't use it again… I was so relieved when Overwatch dis-…” “I, for one, would like to see you in the Valkyrie as well, Doctor Ziegler.” The words echoed the main room and there was a collective inhale of breath as the three glanced up to the top of the stairs. What most would think to be an Omnic, a thin, yet define cyborg of a man, loomed over them with unseen eyes behind an electric green visor. Had his expression been visible, his words sounded both amused and deadly serious. Angela stiffened and yet, looked as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She tried viciously to hide a smile from creeping into the corners of her mouth. She nearly failed. Nearly. Before anyone could say anything, Tracer had blinked across the room and wrapped her arms around Genji’s middle. She smiled brightly as he awkwardly patted at her back with a metallic hand that accidentally clicked against her chronal accelerator. He looked up towards the others and gave them a small wave with the same hand. When Tracer had released him, he calmly walked down the stairs and stood on the opposite side of the landing from Angela. “I apologize for my absence, Winston. I had some…business to tend to. Family stuff. I imagine I had you all worried and for that I am sorry”, what could be seen of his face had shifted to look at Angela during the last of his sentence and she silently cursed herself for not being able to see an expression. He may have come to terms with who he had become now, but it irritated her to no end that she couldn't quite read the man. After all, she'd done it to him. Winston merely waved off Genji with a briefly lifted hand before gesturing back towards the screen, “You got here just in time for the briefing. I actually just got to the good part”, he tapped a few more keys and another screen popped up. A large red dot flickered on and off in a location Angela could just make out as Mexico. It wasn't terribly far from their current location in Gibraltar. Genji’s hollow, yet warm voice sounded before her own. “I see Athena has also heard of the mishaps in Dorado then. I managed to hear a thing or two all the way in Japan”, Genji stopped talking when he realized Winston’s brow perked far higher than just a passing curiously would. There were a hundred questions in his eyes and when he turned to look at Angela, he caught her very irritated expression, lip between her teeth as she quieted herself for the time being. “Uh, yes actually. Dorado. This was where Doctor Ziegler came into play. Athena and I weren't terribly sure if anyone has been injured in the vigilante activity, and I thought that it would be a good bonding mission for yourself and the good doctor. Consider it a training mission from the old days.” Genji hadn't taken his eyes off of Angela, but she'd managed to find something very interesting about her boots, enough so that she shifted them side to side and feigned having heard anything from them. “Doctor Ziegler, perhaps you would be willing to equip the Valkyrie just long enough to check on the citizens of Dorado?”, his voice grated her nerves for several unrelated reasons. He always managed to make things sound so easy. The calm, collected nature in which he spoke both reassured her and drove her to madness. “Fine. But you cannot ask me again after this. Not once! I'm already breaking my promise to myself”, Angela’s brows furrowed and she lifted a hand to pinch at the bridge of her nose. As she opened her eyes, she felt a hand press against her shoulder. Genji stood in front of her with his head tilted ever so slightly. Another mental kick kept her from looking at him. “Doctor Ziegler, I appreciate this. I cannot think of a more qualified person I'd like to go on a mission with. It will be as Winston said. Like old times.” A rumble sounded from Winston behind them and both of their attention shifted to him, “That’s the spirit. It's as if Overwatch never went anywhere”. Angela mumbled under her breath before she finally started towards the mess hall, “That's what I'm afraid of…”. Tracer had already gone ahead of them once more, darting around the kitchen for various other eateries. Genji followed silently behind Angela, staring at her tensed back. No one said a word to Winston who now sat on his tire, comfortable, as he flicked through old Overwatch member files like an obsessed fanboy. It surprised no one when he spoke to them from the other room, unaware that they'd all left him to Athena.
