#jenemanquepas

[chronalized]

“Could you blink, or something? You’re starting to freak me out.”

“Sorry luv! Guess I got distracted!” 

The girl chuckled, scratching the back of her head in embarrassment. Of all the times she could have let her guard down, and it’s with her boss’ wife. Lena pinched herself internally for being rude and staring at the beautiful, gorgeous, elegant woman a few feet across from her, talking to some diplomats with the most lovely voice as the gala music played on and on, her glass clinking with the others as Amélie Lacroix downed a precious flute of champagne. 

How could she not be distracted? 

But as much as her longing to get closer, to chatter and joke and get to know the beautiful ballerina wife that Gérard always boasted about -- 

and she was exactly that. His wife. Someone she had no chance with. 

Lena swallows down her embarrassment for a moment as she sticks out a hand, the sleeves of her RAF uniform pushing up to accommodate a woman of her stature. 

“Lena Oxton, Chief Petty Officer of the Royal Air Force! Nice to meet you!”

[laxchra-archive]

@jenemanquepas

《 « ►◄ » 》:

         ❝  There are no good and bad guys, Agent McCree. There are only          the weak, and the strong. ❞   All eight of her red, glowing eyes are locked          onto him – staring, observing, calculating how best to get herself to the          computer behind him containing Overwatch’s agent directory. (After          Reaper’s failure in Gibraltar, they reassigned the mission to her and went          for Watchpoint: Grand Mesa instead.)   ❝  I never took you for one of the          weak. Yet… here we are.  ❞   

         ❝  Step aside, or I shall  be forced to make you, Jesse. ❞

“Agent? Ain’t that a flatterin term.” Jesse gave a deep laugh. Of course...in a sense, that’s what he was again. But with Overwatch or not, he knew letting anyone get their hands on the directory-anyone like the likes of Talon was a very bad thing.

“Darlin, if you thought I was weak you would’ve taken your shot and been outa here already.” He chuckled with a shake of his head. He shifted his stance, still appearing relaxed though showing no signs of moving.

“That Reaper failed, and I’m sorry to say, I don’t think your gunna fair any better.”

[renxamamiya]

jenemanquepas replied to your post: Tried the new Sombra and all I have to say is that...

//As a Sombra main: translocator being upped by that much would kill her mobility. We use that thing in combat like a blink for Tracer — she’d be way too easy to kill without it, and she has a second longer to wait for that cooldown than Tracer as is. Hack is the main gimmick for Sombra; she already waits two seconds if her hack is interuppted, and it takes 8 seconds for her to hack again after successfully doing a hack. Your nerfs would make her pretty unviable

Oh dang! I didn’t know that sorry I don’t play her a lot and playing her on PTR makes her feel OP

What are your thoughts though?

[moira-of-blackwatch-blog]

@jenemanquepas​ - Bandages - The Widowmaker may have been a creature of stealth, but escaping Moira is a whole different level of difficulty. She always knew exactly where the killer happened to be and when she found out about what happened, Moira made it her primary concern to hunt her down.

It is a rare sight to see her in such a condition. Beaten and defeated, most likely not knowing what would come next if she was ever located. Instead of promptly reminding her of her failures, the Irishwoman sat along the edge of the bath to get a bit closer. “We will speak about this at a later time.” She spoke with a crisp and clear tone. “Let me take care of you.” A single hand reached out to pick up Widow’s long hair. She then proceeds to rummage about her lab coat. 

“Where is the worst of your wounds?” She pulls a ribbon from the depths of her pockets and uses it to help control her ebony locks. “Come. Sit up higher. I need to get a good look at you.”

[vinodiriso]

@jenemanquepas

One shot. Then another. Then a third. All dead center, clean through the bots’ heads. The only difference between her and them is that she has organic parts, and the most remote sense of personality. But it does not bother her to perform such a task against kindred beings; she rather enjoys slaughtering these mechanical dummies. “That many.” Ochre eyes slide away from the scope, giving a sidelong glance. “One for each shot that I missed the other day.” 

HANZO. ☈ 

Before Widowmaker could flick her aim to hit the last target on the far right, Hanzo bolted his bow up and shot an arrow towards the bot. His arm movement had been light, the synthetic feathers caressed the skin under his fingers, the slender stick flew in the hair, hissing threateningly, and pierced the bot’s chest through. A shot of true finesse he had accomplished, and the smirk he wore on his lips was proud and fierce. His mastery was not to be discussed.

“Mh” Hanzo grumbled, still sporting that cocky smile. “You have done a good job here today. I shall buy you a glass of wine at the bar down the street.”

It was widely known among the Talon crew that Fabricio, the old Portuguese bartender, had long stopped caring who he was selling his alcohol to, as long as his customers paid for it. And Hanzo’s pocket was way heavier than how it should have been.

[seethroughdragoneyes-blog]

     It was quite different, coming to one of the old homes that would be visited on the rare moments he would have left Japan with his father, nestled within a small town in Taiwan Nowdays with the Clan mere fragments, the home was left abandoned, save for the times the old heir would come visit.     This time, he was alone. Hanzo pushed open the door before inviting Widow inside, “This will work as a base for a few days, but after that we should move again.” He was far too used to not being able to settle in one place for too long. A place to call home was non-existent nowadays. He didn’t know how the other sniper was adjusting to such a life after being so tightly held on by Talon. Hopefully better than he had been at the beginning.      “There’s a store not too far from here, we can pick up some food there and if necessary new clothing.” Despite being abandoned the place still looked to be in good condition.

    @jenemanquepas ; starter

[yunhuntress]

@jenemanquepas continued from: [x]

The huntress had been through great trials and tribulations enough to have a warrior's instinct. It erupted the moment she landed in another new world without warning from a portal. Something had tugged her out of Gran Pulse to the strange lands in a flash of blinding bright white light unlike anything she remembered seeing.

Her strike had been true and aimed well with her foot before she realized just who she had hit. Everything slowly fell into place and she felt the stress once more of being a stranger in a stranger land for what felt like the millionth time. Nonetheless, she showed respect to the woman she had struck seeing she was able to still get onto her feet after it.

The new home she found herself in had a somewhat calming effect on her even in the midst of renovation. Fang took the time to wander each hall and each room while Widowmaker was off doing her work to get a better feel of the home. She almost could feel the life reverberate through each old wooden stud in the walls. A painful yearning came to remind her of her own gone home to the point she started to help in repairing things here or there in the grand home.

Fang kept herself busy taking on projects to make sure old wood was still usable in some of the rooms she started. It was the least she could do for being granted the use of the home as a place to lay her head at night. Most nights when she couldn't sleep, she would tinker on rebuilding new walls that had to get done or on old windows that could be saved with a bit of love and know how. Those were the nights Widowmaker was not in the home so she could take advantage of the alone time.

She had just finished repainting some of the windowsills on the inside when she heard the other woman call from the kitchen. Fang climbed down and moved to the same room to get cleaned up from the paint on her hands. Some was speckled on her upper arms as well from other paint works she had finished earlier in the day.

"It smells amazing and I wouldn't mind trying some. I've worked up quite the appetite lately."

[squirehearted]

@jenemanquepas:

《 « ►◄ » 》:

   The question makes Widowmaker roll over on the bed towards her, eyes boring into     Brigitte. Her… field of work has been discussed many times. She’s not shy about it. But     there are some things she cannot say, cannot freely give away. If she does, she stands to     be put into a position where she may have to harm Brigitte. And she cannot afford that.

    She is silent for a long time, eyes fixated on her face. Thinking of the easiest – the safest     way to tell her.

          ❝ Home, ❞ is what she settles for.  ❝ _Back to Talon. I cannot stay away from them for          long. Work and my… condition, do not allow the luxury of extended time with you. _❞

**           ❝ Sometimes I wish it wasn’t that way. ❞**

What a mess. What a mess they are in. What a tangled web, the other woman might say. Perhaps a little on the nose but not inaccurate. 

Brigitte readjusts her place on the pillow-- rubs her cheek against the soft, plush support and keeps dark eyes on her... companion. ( Any other word either feels too much, too simple or too trite. What they are is so-- grey. ) There is this constant push-pull. Perhaps that’s why they come back. Perhaps the tension is too attractive, when each of their lives would be simpler apart.

( Less fulfilling but simpler. )

They’ve had fiery arguments before. Morality. Life. Death. Truth. All very heavy concepts. All at the crux of this... affair. 

Sometimes, she wants to forget all the complications and let this be the simple thing. This moment together. “Is that really home? Are you warm there? Peaceful-- safe? It sounds like prison, shackled to your ankle to keep you from wandering off too far.”