me: iâm not rly interested in writing widowmaker overcoming her reconditioning me: [watches captain america civil war] me: nvm give me that
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KIROKAZE
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Kiana Khansmith
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@widowborn-blog
me: iâm not rly interested in writing widowmaker overcoming her reconditioning me: [watches captain america civil war] me: nvm give me that
AmĂ©lie Lacroix and Omnics Though she knows she should know better, she is at best wary -- if she werenât so self-aware, it might even be bigotry. In fact, in her childhood, it was. It was only later in her adulthood that she gained the necessary ethical education and empathy to co-exist with omnics.
Though try as she might (and she really did try) her civilities were born of fear and ignorance, not acceptance. They were never quite real enough, never quite human enough. She could never see them as thinking, feeling, sentient beings.Â
She avoided them whenever possible, or kept other humans between her and them; often subconscious behaviours. If called out, she would express interest in learning, but was easily able to make light of her aloof personality applying to all living creatures. Her charm and respect kept most people unaware how deeply she resented the presence of omnics.
The worst thing is that                    they arenât even nightmares                                              theyâre memories.
  Reaper briefly wondered if she was telling him the truth. Made to be unfeeling, tortured into her coldness, he didnât think she would lie. In fact, with a target soon to be in sight, she has probably never felt more ALIVE than she does right now.
  âGood. Re-positioning.â He forewarned as he crossed his arms over his chest. The wraith stood on the edge of the building, but as he focused on a spot on the ground closer to their target, he faded out of existence. All that was left behind was the shadow of his place, and even that dispersed with time. The second he felt himself materialize down below, he pulled his shotguns from their holsters. A spray of bullets flew towards the guards that had begun to position themselves around their target in a protective circle.Â
  âIâll get the target in your crosshairs.â There was no âIâll tryâ, just âI willâ.Â
She can almost feel her heartbeat, as the bodies fall. The entourage adjusts to the shooting, consolidating their protection between her scope and her target. It would be an effective defence, if it wasnât baited. As soon she sees Reaperâs mist between her crosshairs, she drops out of cover, leading their distracted gazes pointedly away from him. Guarding her flank with a poison mine, she pulls her visor down and peeks back out for another kill.
officially on hiatus bc my muse is a little dryÂ
tfw u got the no internet no muse comboÂ
vishkar-architect replied to your post âofficially on hiatus bc my muse is a little dry â
[ need help making her wet? WINKY FACE I'M SORRY I COULDN'T RESIST plz love me <3 ]
( Ê ÍÊ Ê)
officially on hiatus bc my muse is a little dryÂ
@widowborn did the thing!
âGood evening, Mrs. Lacroix! I didnât expect to see you here so late. Agent Lacroix burning the midnight oil again?â
âOui. He works so much I wonder that heâs become nocturnal.â Or an oil-run omnic- her nose twitches in discomfort. âSurely he can be spared one night off?â
Eva Green for Dior, 2007
@reaperborn cont.
Once, the frost in the night air would have sent shivers down her spine and had her seeking woollen layers. Now she barely feels anything beneath her fingertips, when they brush against bare skin. Save for a steady vigilance, she barely feels anything at all.
âI havenât suffered in years, chĂ©rie.â A chuckle dies in her throat as their mark and his entourage enter her sights. She doesnât spare a glance as she tells Reaper, âWeâre up.â Roughing the calculations, she fires three bullets; dropping three omnics before the mark realises his danger.
@widowborn
âA ninja and an assassin are not the same.â Â The Cyborg cast a glance at the Widowmaker. Â
âA hunter by any other name would smell as sweet,â she chimes.
No, I donât want you to serve me, Vanessa. I want to serve you. The Mother of Evil. What has my life been? A series of shabby identities in vulgar worlds, from one tragic age to another, always in search of that one thing I cannot attain! Have mercy, please!
âDonât do that to me.â
five-word sentences | accepting
Consideration passes evenly over her face. It was a demand, ill-timed and dangerous, but the Widowmaker was good at following orders. Her hand pauses. âYou best have a better suggestion ready.â Tone clipped with warning.
â iâll always have your back. â
five-word sentences | accepting
She would, for there were no alternatives - but even the Widowmaker could recognise words of comfort when they were offered. Was it not implicit of her role, she would vocalise the same. But if her companion did not already know that, she was stupid. Widowmaker cocks her gun in preparation without so much as a glance. Confidence, on the other hand, she could offer.
âDo not fail.â
baguettes
âIf It Lives, Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â I Can Kill Itâ
               Indie Reaper. Selective. Private. Guidelines.