#This would be omnic crisis area

[dimensionalspades]

. "Hey, can you hear me, Chase?" Jack asked, looking at her face, then peering over the half wall he'd pulled her behind. There was a squadron of omnics on the other side, all searching for the pair- though, as promised, a distraction took most of them away.

. He helped her stay sitting upright, moving her railgun to sit near her just in case she wanted or needed it.

. "You took a pretty nasty hit from some shrapnel, that unit took us by surprise. Backup's keeping them off our tail for now, but we're stuck here for the time being." He began to catalogue her injuries, careful of moving anything beyond what was necessary. His pack had some biotics, but the rest he'd have to get taken care of by hand. "I can patch you up, just isn't gonna look perfect. Luckily for you, I've memorized a hundred or so stupid puns for just such a situation."

@aquicksojourn

[rhamrhanch]

Shepherd of Death, Don't Herd Me

Part One: Humble Awakening

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Ramattra/Reader (gender-neutral pronouns)

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort

Next Chapter

Summary: You were just an engineer. That's all you ever wanted to be. But after a chance encounter with the leader of Null Sector, you soon find your simple life crumbling to ash.

A/N: started writing a Ramattra fic and thought I should post it here as well. hope you enjoy!

chapter under the cut ↓

---

The room was too quiet, you thought.

With omnics, there was always sound. The gentle drone of their fans, steady as a human's heartbeat. The grind of metal when they moved.

No such sounds could be heard now.

Your pistol sat heavy against your hip. By all accounts, you were safe. Yet still you hesitated, resisting the urge to stroke the crumpled exoskeleton of the omnic slouched before you. You had never tinkered with this model before, unsure whether even the gentlest touch may rouse him. Considering the identity of your companion, it was not an irrational fear to have.

But as you took in the state of his body, that fear dwindled more and more.

Half of his face plate was missing, jagged edges rippling down to his chin as though it had been torn off. A camera-like eye stared through you, unfocused. Where a right arm should have been, there was only an empty socket. A gruesome scene of carnage, were he formed from flesh and blood.

You reached out to his thigh, slowly, cautiously. Your fingers met the rough leather there, rising over the ridges of crushed metal underneath.

The reports you received after debriefings had few pictures, but there was one that stood out to you. It was clear in your memory, the image of his silhouette. Tall and broad-shouldered, with dark cables fanning out behind him like a mane. His crook in hand likened him to a humble shepherd, yet he stood proudly, dignified as he beckoned to his flock with arms spread wide. You had always thought he cut an imposing figure.

Seeing him like this now felt… strange. Wrong, in a way.

Your nails caught on a spot on his hip, halted in their path up his broken body. You peered closer, seeing the small imprints of numbers—his manufacturing date. It was scratched out, something else carved beneath it.

You tested the name in your mouth, letting it roll over your tongue.

Ramattra.

---

It was meant to be a simple mission—well, as simple as Overwatch missions could be.

Remnants of Null Sector's presence lingered after its attempted invasion in Gothenburg. In response, a few agents were dispatched to "clean up" the area, culling any Nulltroopers that remained. After a few days, everyone who had stayed behind received word that their fellow agents would rejoin them in Gibraltar soon.

A week had passed since then in radio silence. You could tell it worried Winston. The banana peels scattered around his office indicated as much. But suddenly, without warning nor explanation, the wayward team returned—battered, but alive.

All was well, you had thought, until Reinhardt dropped a mountain of metal at your feet, and you realized it was a miracle they returned at all.

"An R-7000!"

For as long as you had been an engineer, just seeing an R-7000 in person was a dream come true. They were so scarce these days, nearly hunted to extinction. Killed at the hands of humans in retribution for the war.

You had no memories of the Omnic Crisis, born at the tail end of the war and left to clean up the pieces. Even so, you knew the stories.

R-7000s.

Ravagers.

Squad killers.

A rare class of omnics designed by an artificial mind in its first act of creation. You yearned to understand it, to witness the way a machine engineered itself. To reach that level of efficiency, no material wasted, no part unnecessary or unused. It was an ouroboros of invention, something created with a single purpose. You had no choice but to admire it.

"Impressive, ja?"

You craned your neck up at Reinhardt. There was an open gash on his forehead, dried blood painting a red stripe down to his chin. It stained his teeth as he grinned proudly down at you.

“What happened?��

Winston shuffled over, straightening his glasses. “I'm just hearing the details now. It seems they ran into him while on the way to the pickup site.”

"'Him'?" You cocked your hip and glanced at the omnic on the ground. "Who is he?"

A pause. "The leader of Null Sector."

Your head darted back to the mangled omnic in disbelief. You hardly even recognized him in this state. “What? Why would you bring him here?"

Winston cleared his throat. “As you can see, the encounter has left him quite… damaged.”

Damaged was one hell of an understatement. Your eyes roamed the omnic's body, taking inventory—what needed to be replaced, what couldn't. After a beat of silence, you realized the veiled request in Winston's words.

“You want me to fix him?" There was an unspoken question in your tone: why? But Winston only nodded. You didn't press any further; his lack of an answer was answer enough.

"It might take a while. He is missing an arm.”

“Take your time. He won't be going anywhere anytime soon.” Winston’s expression turned stern then, and you straightened up instantly. “I know this is a lot to ask, but we can't lose this opportunity. Let me know the moment he wakes up.”

You nodded slowly. With a parting wish of good luck, Winston turned to help unload the ship. You waved over Reinhardt, who slung the omnic over his shoulder with ease and followed you out of the hangar. Danger or no, you would not let it deter you. This was the first opportunity you’d been given to work on an omnic in a long time, and on a Ravager no less. You refused to waste a single second.

---

Now alone in your workshop, you could admit the truth—you hadn't the faintest idea where to start.

You knew just from a glance it would be a difficult fix-up job, and that was assuming you had materials at your disposal. Reality was much more sobering. Ever since the recall, a free-flowing wave of supplies was a fool’s wish.

You would have to make do.

While the rest of the damage would be no easy feat, what concerned you most was the state of the Ravager's—Ramattra's—chest plate. His metal exoskeleton completely caved in, likely the result of a blow from Reinhardt’s hammer. Repairing it would be invasive—you may even need to separate the cage from his body entirely.

Slowly, you placed your palm against the center of his chest, feeling the warped edges of the metal there. Looking at it closely now, it almost resembled a sternum. It fascinated you, how similar the design of Ramattra’s body was to your own. Your hand traveled across his upper chest as you mapped the parts you recognized.

Sternum, collar bone, shoulder…

You let out a quiet breath. It was no wonder Ravagers were so terrifying during the Crisis. But as you gazed at his face plate, caressing the ridge where it splintered, you couldn't help the gradual sorrow that tightened in your chest. How many of his model had been destroyed since then? Were there even others left?

You searched through the mess on your workshop table. During your exam, you noticed that his chest plate had multiple layers. External armor secured at his "sternum," four steel rods extending outward from the top, while an iron rib cage curled from the bottom. To fully assess the extent of the damage, you would need to go through the tedious effort of removing all the parts individually.

Crowbar in hand, you returned to the Ravager. You slotted the tool into the gap between his sternum and the rod that protected his upper chest, pressing down firmly. The plate gave slightly—you pushed harder. A click rang out in the silence as the piece loosened, and you smiled to yourself. Brute force was always reliable. Perhaps not the most elegant approach, but effective nonetheless.

You worked at a moderate pace, the palm of your hand aching from where the crowbar pushed against it. It wasn't long before the last rib was released, and you could finally access his chest plate. Your earlier fatigue forgotten, you immediately set about loosening the screws that held it closed. By the end of the entire process, a thin sheen of sweat had formed on the nape of your neck.

Finally, the panel opened, fanning outward from the middle as though a blooming flower.

The inside walls of his chest were a map of circuits. Wires snaked in and out of his machinery, threaded through actuators and sensors like vines. Hydraulic cooling fans sat below a row of black cubes—multiple power units, you realized. There were so many more parts, some you didn't even recognize, and you wanted nothing more than to stay there all day and analyze each one.

But then your eyes fell on a cylinder nestled in the center of his chest, and you realized you had made a horrible mistake.

Ravagers were of the commander class of omnics, designed with physical combat in mind. This much you knew. Omnics that were humanoid in shape had their central processors in their heads, but a location like that in an omnic crafted for battle was dangerous. Those kinds of omnics would house their central processor where it could be well protected—a place with fortified shielding and a large surface area to disperse force.

And if you were an intelligent AI focused on maximizing utility, you would have programmed those omnics with a failsafe—some method that enabled them to protect the most vulnerable part of their body, in the event their system was otherwise compromised.

A hand shot out toward you before you could even blink, seizing your throat and dragging you to the ground. You couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. A red glow lit up Ramattra’s face plate as the once sleeping omnic rose, hauling you up with less effort than one would a sack of flour. But before he could reach his full height, his legs faltered beneath him, forcing him to sag against your workbench. You dipped lower with the movement, the tips of your boots scraping the ground but doing little to relieve the intense pressure on your jugular.

“What…” His voice came out garbled, as though run through mud. “…have you done to me?”

Your hands clawed desperately at his hold, attempting to pry his fingers away from your throat, but it was useless. All the muscles in your body could hardly hold a candle to the strength that poured from his hand alone as he squeezed the breath from your throat.

As you fought for your life against the brutal might of his grasp, you couldn’t help wondering how many kilograms of force his grip strength boasted. 100, maybe 125? The lack of oxygen to your brain sullied your ability to approximate considerably.

He seemed to realize you were suffocating, if only indicated by the way his thumb dragged up the tender skin of your throat and under your chin, forcing your head to the side. You gasped raggedly as air scraped into your lungs, making you cough. At least you could finally breathe—all that was left to do now was grab your gun, and this ordeal would be over.

Yet your hands did not move from where they wrapped around his wrist. You knew you had to, knew that every moment you waited narrowed the only opening you had. But before the synapses could fire for you to even think about reaching for the pistol at your waist, he dug his thumb under your jaw, hard, and you yelped in pain.

“Answer me, now.”

“Repairing… you,” you choked out. “I’m… an engineer—”

“Lies!” he hissed. His hand was a vice grip now, your pulse pounding in your ears from the restricted blood flow. “My chest is flayed open by your hands. Tell me the truth, human!” He practically spat the last word and yanked you closer, forcing a grunt out of you as your neck jerked up with the motion.

Your vision went fuzzy at the edges as your hold on consciousness weakened even more. A frightening thought ran through your mind at that moment.

I'm going to die here.

With the last breath you could manage, you muttered, “Taken by… Overwatch.”

His hand loosened. You slipped from his grasp, collapsing on the floor in a fit of hacking coughs. It hurt to breathe, your body instinctually rejecting the gulps of air you forced into your lungs. You weakly pushed yourself up on trembling arms, chest heaving as you struggled to recover. You had barely caught your breath when he grabbed you by the front of your coveralls, pulling you face-to-face.

“Where am I?”

“Gibraltar," you coughed.

He was silent, his exposed eye dilating and contracting as it studied your face intensely. You weren't sure what pushed you to speak again. A desperate last attempt for your life, maybe?

“Your voice box,” you whispered. His eye froze. “I can fix it.”

A sardonic chuckle rumbled from his chest, scratching your eardrums. “Do you really think I would let you anywhere near me again?”

You cleared your throat, trying to maintain an air of authority and pretend that your offer was not made on a whim. “I specialize in omnics—I can help you.”

“All the more reason not to trust you.” His harsh rebuff came out a growl, rippling with static. “You know better than anyone how to kill me.”

“But I haven’t.” Well, you'd thought about it. But he didn't know that.

For a moment, there was only the hum of his auxiliary vents—a death knell you knew you were not the first to witness. You braced yourself, waiting for him to fold your skull in on itself like it was made of paper.

The grip on your coveralls slackened. Your hands barely shot out in time to catch yourself, head immediately snapping up only to watch him sink back down to the ground.

“Fine, human. Let's see if your words match your will.”

[ultravioart]

Sources:

https://x.com/geesegoose_1/status/1846378569439891616?t=1w9lkW4_1xIJ8GdFc44H_Q&s=19

https://x.com/kirikokamoris/status/1846607767269712380?t=9gCdG-jAmnvBAlNV80g_zA&s=19

New overwatch lore came out and if it couldn't get any worse for Pharah, Helix is working with Oasis to enforce the "anticrime-ai-predictive model" in Morocco and its basically minority report... and Pharah still talks positively about Helix so. Genuinely I hate this. My rewrite will take out this horrible portrayal for Pharah(recast her VA NOW and make the VA actually Egyptian or from an indigenous nation that can represent Pharah’s father's side). How do you make Pharah enforce a POLICE STATE with her background. How is that a hero, let alone an optumistic future.

:(

It's also pretty much confirmed the Wayfinders Society was outbought by Oasis for the items the Wayfinders Society uncovered, which implies the Wayfinders Society ISN'T a finding+recovery effort of returning artifacts to the countries of origin, rather, the Wayfinders Society is most likely a "the adventure of finding treasure!!!" WHICH IS SO BIZZARRE CONSIDERING De:Classified mentioned the efforts of returning artifacts to the countries of origin as if THAT'S what the Wayfinders Society is about????

And this now makes sense. Venture is canonically a swash-buckling adventurer, but directly inspired by Indiana Jones-- and the idiots that wrote this don't realize that is PILLAGING and colonizing behavior to STEAL artifacts/treat cultural artifacts like treasure to pillage for. And to use arrow heads as the icon too???? Gross is an understatement. Indigenous people have been denied thier family's works, heirlooms, and artwork bc American museums refuse to allow indigenous people even SEE the items. They are stored away in boxes, collecting dust. It's a disgrace, and I would think since De:Classified mentioned this issue, an optumistic future would work to rectify this disrespect in the story.

It's such an honest let down for Venture's character... I wanted an archeologist that was exited about the HUMANITY within artifacts, and to bring that joy of celebrating culture to expanding Omnic lore. I absolutely did NOT want Venture/Wayfinders Society seeing the artifacts as some simple object exciting to find bc fame, money, or some detached history fun fact-aholic. If it was dinosaur bones, that's totally fine for having it be a "ooo treasure!!!! Did you know? (Insert fun fact)" hype but it is NOT okay to do that with cultural artifacts. For some reason in Overwatch, Greek artifacts have been taken out of Greece and are now in the Temple of Anubis. Venture is pillaging. HOW is that a hero. :/

It's actually super gross that Overwatch portrayed Greece as the 'low tech' map, portrayed it only as the tourist sections (that is not authentic Greek life, plus the maps mix up completely different areas of Greece together) and then not making a Greek hero despite the map and even Greek myth bp theme, and THEN having the gall to make Venture "save the artifacts from Talon bc no one else will!" (with horrible rep of artifact handling and collection mind you) as if the native residents don't exist. WHERE ARE THE GREEK PEOPLE. Did Greece get gentrified by Eastern Europe in overwatch???? Is Greece just a hollow shell of tourist traps bc all the natives left bc of economic disparity after the omnic crisis? (The Phillipines was hit hard, so was Spain and Portugal but they had the wall, so I can imagine Greece was hit hard too)????? That's genuinely so dystopian lmafo

And FYI, irl the British museum still refuses to return artifacts to Greece bc the people in charge ARE racist and think Greeks can't take care of thier own artifacts. So. I can not state how much the Venture comic pisses me off, having a non-native come in, state that no one is there to save the artifacts, and then take the artifacts outside of Greece while mishandling them (you do not drill into ruins, it would shatter terracotta. You do not barehand handle artifacts. Etc.)

Can overwatch make a Greek hero already so I can draw them giving the Wayfinders Society and Talon the middlefinger for pillaging Greek artifacts? Thanks.

Venture Overwatch, I will save you from this bs writting I refuse to have Overwatch's first trans rep be pillaging artifacts they should be PROTECTING.

[aaliyg]

Stick to the Script

TELL A FRIEND TO TELL A FRIEND. SHE'S BACKKKK

Word count: 5.6K  

Prompt: Meeting For the First Time

Warnings: sojournxmtf!junker queen, bottom!sojourn, top!junker queen, canon divergence, cursing, pet names, dirty talk, squirting, MTF, size difference, title use/kink (brief), body worship (brief), fingering, oral sex (both receiving and giving), missionary, pretty vanilla tbh, begging, crying during sex

Dialogue Color Code: Sojourn, Junker Queen

The humid air settled into the cockpit like a weighted blanket, making Vivian wonder why the hell she agreed to go on this mission in the first place. It was nothing too serious, just some allyship talks with the people of Junkertown, aka the Queen herself. Vivian's been here before, sure, but something about this mission made her stomach pool with unease. It was like some part of her was anticipating something to happen, even though her team hadn't even landed yet. She found solace in the fact that she herself wouldn't be talking, since Jack said he had that covered. All Vivian had to do was stand still and look both welcoming and intimidating. Easy enough. 

She stood up and stretched a bit, letting herself take in the view of the outskirts of the town. For an area that was one of the epicenters of the omnic crisis, the place didn't look too shabby. It was almost…admirable how these people were able to integrate mechanics with everyday life, showing how resilient they could be when needed. Her thoughts were cut short as the airship began to land just outside the gates of the town. There was one thing she liked about this place: the people here didn't look up to her crew like they were gods, just normal people with a drive to make the world better. 

A couple minutes later, she found herself posted inside the throne room of the Junker Queen herself. Vivian let her eyes wander around the room, taking in the details of the omnic parts used as decoration on the walls and furniture. She was definitely glad that Echo wasn't brought along for this mission. With her railgun propped in front of her, she absentmindedly listened to what Jack was saying, doing her best to keep track in case she was asked to add anything on his behalf. Her ears perked up when the Queen snorted in response to what Jack offered.

"An what makes you think we'd need your ‘allyship’ in the first place, huh? Far as I know you lot are just here to look good."

Vivian…couldn't deny that one. Junkertown was doing pretty well for itself, as rundown as it seemed. There wasn't really anything that Overwatch could bring to the table that they would be interested in. She struggled not to chuckle as Jack scrambled to come up with a retort, knowing full well that he was simply out of his comfort zone in this situation. She sighed softly and leaned against the wall of the throne room, clearing her throat to get their attention. So much for staying quiet…

"What makes you think that your people could live off of what they have here in the long run?"

"Oh the bodyguard talks. Awright then."

Sojourn almost raised her gun out of reflex when the woman stood up, causing the Queen to squint her fiery red eyes at her and sneer.

"What, ya think ya lil gun is gunna stop me?" 

She chuckled as she practically loomed over Vivian, easily dwarfing her without a problem. Her eyes sized Vivian up and down, but she backed off before anything could happen. She shifted her eyes towards Jack in a mocking manner.

"You should tell your bodyguard to keep her mouth shut more often."

Vivian could practically feel Jack's eye twitching from how badly the meeting was going, wasting no time in apologizing for her behavior. She almost felt bad for him, but then again he didn't have a solid argument against the Queen's rebuttal. It seemed like she was noticing his plight as well too, as she groaned loudly in mock annoyance.

"Tell ya what. You and your little bodyguard can stay here for the night, and you can come back here tomorrow and try to win me over again. Sound good?"

To say that Sojourn was surprised would be an understatement. The Junker Queen wasn't exactly known for giving people a second shot at anything, really. Jack looked…relieved at her proposal and immediately agreed to it.

"On one condition though."

Sojourn's brow perked up at the phrase, raising her eye level just in time to watch her point in her direction.

"She stays with me."

She furrowed her brow in confusion at the demand, sparing a glance at Jack before answering.

"And if I say no?"

The Queen looked slightly deterred as raised her brow in...shock? annoyance? At her question and chuckled a bit, a small smirk playing on her lips.

"Well, then you can consider this little deal of ours off the table."

"...Just for one night correct?"

"Depends."

"...On?"

"Why would I tell ya?"

Sojourn held back her groan as she weighed the options in her mind. Either they went back with no ally at all, or they waited for Jack to pull something out of his ass by the next day.

"Fine. I'll stay with you then."

That damned smirk became even more prominent from her response as she leaned against her throne even more.

"Wonderful. Don't worry about your boss. I already have a spot for him."

She snapped her fingers, and two of her…henchmen? Came and guided Jack out of the throne room. He didn't even bother fighting back or speaking against what was happening. Honestly, he looked too dumbfounded to do anything.

"And then there were two."

The same feeling that Sojourn felt in the airship came back in full force as she made eye contact with the Queen.

"I want to apologize."

The Junker's face became visibly confused as she blinked slowly.

"For what?"

"...I mean I did just question your authority in your own throne room and all."

"Ah. I suppose you did." 

She leaned forward in her chair, letting her eyes rake over Sojourn's form.

"No worries, though. It's been a while since someone actually bit back at me. Nice change of pace."

Vivian bristled a bit under her gaze, but remained calm.

"So, why did I need to stay with you then?"

"Can't have ya boss thinkin he's getting off easy or anythin."

"He's not my boss."

She snorted in laughter at her retort, grinning back at her like they were old pals.

"Coulda fooled me. What's your name?"

"Sojourn."

"I know your parents didn't name you that. Real name."

"You go by Junker Queen though. I doubt your parents named you that."

She squinted at Vivian, seemingly a bit frustrated with how quickly she could bite back at her.

"...Fair enough, Sojourn."

Vivian couldn't help the smirk that came across her face, but quickly hid it before the other woman could notice. The Queen stood up swiftly, beckoning Sojourn to follow her.

"Lemme show you where you'll be staying tonight."

Seeing no obvious reason to retaliate, Sojourn picked up her railgun and began to trail behind the Queen, being purposeful with the amount of distance she created between themselves. She let herself look around the hallway that was positioned behind the throne, taking in the rough but intricate detail of the walls.

"Are omnic parts the only things you decorate with?"

"I see em as…spoils of war. I'm sure a soldier like yourself understands the need to showcase her achievements."

"I mean yeah but…seems a bit excessive."

The taller woman snorted loudly in amusement at her comment and opened a door the was situated at the end of the hallway.

"I don’t remember askin for a judgement of my decor style, miss. You'll be staying with me for the night, but don't worry I've got two beds. Unless you'd like to share one..?"

She smirked and wiggled her brows at Vivian, causing the shorter woman to roll her eyes and walk into the room. It didn't go unnoticed to either of them just how small Sojourn looked compared to the Queen, but neither of them brought it up.

"Which bed is yours?"

"Oohh. Ya takin me up on my offer then?"

It took everything in Vivian not to side eye the woman. She huffed slightly in annoyance and looked at her.

"I'm trying to figure out which bed to pick. And that'll be whichever one you don't sleep in. So please enlighten me."

"...The one closest to the door is mine."

She pointed at the other bed that was placed near the window.

"Thought it was a good idea to have a bed there at first, but turns out the draft was too cold for my liking."

"So why didn't you just move the bed then?"

She shrugged and moved around Sojourn to sit on her bed, keeping her eyes on her the whole time. Something about her eye contact made Sojourn feel a bit vulnerable for some reason, but she decided to shake it off. The Queen chuckled and shrugged at her question, her obvious answer being 'why not have two beds?'

"So. Are ya part omnic or..?"

"Straight to the point huh? These are cybernetic enhancements. Almost like…prosthetics. But much cooler and more built for combat. Besides, who would turn down rocket legs? Other than that I am fully human."

“Do they rust? The metal parts?”

“I’d hope not. Kinda need them to be in the best shape possible all the time. But no, they don’t rust.”

The Queen nodded in understanding as Sojourn took a seat on the other bed, making sure to place her railgun on the windowsill in case something happened.

"Ok so why exactly did you want me to stay with you? In your room specifically. I'm sure you have holding cells or something like that right?"

"We do, but I wouldn't be a good hostess if I did that to you now would I?"

"Hm…I suppose not. But still, this is a bit…unconventional."

Odessa shook her head and smirked softly.

"...You do know where you are, right?"

"Fair point."

The Queen shuffled around a bit until she was looking directly at the other woman. 

"Besides. You're too pretty to throw in a holding cell."

Sojourn's brows shot up in surprise, clearly not expecting this conversation to go in this direction.

"...Pretty?"

"Mhm. Problem?"

"I- no I just…this isn't very professional of you you know."

"If you want me to stop I can-"

"No no it's…it's ok. Just didn't expect it."

Sojourn drummed her fingers against her thigh in contemplation. Huffing softly, she looked up at the other woman and squinted a bit.

"Fuck it, why not? What about me is pretty then?"

The Queen smirked a bit at her question, sensing that she wasn't against the interest she had in her after all.

"Dunno. You're just…pretty. Maybe if you'd let me get a closer look I'd be more specific."

"C'mon then. I haven't got all night you know."

The Queen patted on the right side next to her, signaling for Vivian to take seat. The other woman quickly complied, taking a seat next to Odessa and facing her.

"Before you start…looking. I gotta say, you're not too bad yourself…"

"Thanks, I try. Though I must say, I didn’t peg ya as the type to be interested in women, though. Guess you learn something new everyday. Now come closer so I can look at you, yeah?"

"This isn't close enough?"

"For such a disciplined person, you're not very obedient. Might havta fix that. Cmere."

Odessa grinned as Vivian shuffled closer to her, looking like a cat that just got caught red handed. Now, their thighs were mere inches away from each other, almost to the point where Odessa could smell the lotion radiating off of the other woman.

"Good. Now…"

She let her eyes dance across the expanse of Sojourn's build, taking note of how…plush her thighs looked and how pouty her lips naturally were. She stopped herself from touching her though, since something was still tugging at her mind.

"Before I continue, can you answer something for me?"

"Oh, sure."

"Gimme your real name, please."

"...Not until you tell me yours."

"Awright then. Name's Odessa Stone. Yours?"

"Odessa? That's a pretty name. Mine's Vivian Chase."

"Vivian…yeah that sounds…right. Like it was meant to be yours."

Vivian could feel her face heat up a bit at that, causing Odessa to grin.

"Thanks…so are you gonna tell me what's so pretty about me then?"

"Patience, patience little bodyguard. One more question though…may I touch you? You just seem so…soft. Like a weighted blanket."

"Hm…I don't see why not. Just…be gentle okay?"

"No problem little bodyguard."

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Would you rather me call you something else?”

“My name would be nice…”

“Awright then, Vivian Chase. Now lemme get a good look atcha.”

Vivian allowed herself to relax as the other woman dragged her eyes all over her frame, taking note of how blown out her pupils had become by now. “Stand up f’me.”

As if her legs had a mind of their own, she stood up and faced Odessa, crossing her arms and looking at her in the eyes.

“See anything you like yet, Miss Odessa?”

“I ain’t done yet. Turn around..?”

Sojourn obliged, instantly regretting it when Odessa whistled smugly behind her. “Didn’t know soldiers could carry so much…baggage around like this.”

“For a second I thought you would’ve had decorum. Guess not.”

“Oh come on. There’s no shame in saying you have ass you know.”

Vivian spun around and squinted at the taller woman. The need to tear into her for her remark quickly died in her throat as she stared at the smirk playing prominently on her lips. “You’re ridiculous…”

“Not my fault you have a nice ASSet.”

“Uht- I hate you…”

The Queen smirked devilishly at Sojourn, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her to sit on her lap.

“Aw that’s too bad. Ya stuck with me all night, remember? So you better get used ta me.”

Sojourn gasped in shock at the sudden action, realizing how close they were to each other now. She could easily feel the heat radiating off of the other, causing her to wonder how she wasn’t sweating buckets in the sheer heat of the Outback. “Ya look nice on toppa me, Vivian.”

Vivian placed her hands on the other’s shoulders and wiggled around to get a bit more comfortable.

“Hm…I think I’d prefer if you were on top though.”

An undeniable twitch could be felt against her thigh, but Vivian chose to ignore it as she stared at the freckles dotted along her cheeks.

“Well, I’ve definitely found my favorite part about you..”

“Is it the muscles or the hair?”

“Nah. Those are nice but these freckles are just adorable. They’re like little stars on your cheeks.”

Vivian swore Odessa’s face turned 3 shades darker from the compliment as she coughed awkwardly. “Well uh…thank you.”

She gently pulled the other closer, letting her breath ghost against her nose as her hands cupped the flesh of her ass. She chuckled as Vivian made herself comfortable against her hold, placing her knees on either side of her thighs. “You still haven’t said what your favorite part about me is, you know.”

“Ah well. Can’t I just say all of ya?”

“That defeats the purpose of having a ‘favorite part’ though.”

“Guess you’re right. Fine…your ass is high on the list but I think my favorite part is your lips. They’re nice and plump. I like that.”

“Hm. Never heard that one before. Usually people pick the thighs or the ass…”

Odessa couldn’t help but frown a bit at her statement and squeezed her thigh gently. Vivian raised her brow in confusion, but chuckled a bit when she realized what Odessa was thinking. “Oh no I don’t feel upset about that or anything. It’s just a surprise, that’s all.”

“Oh thank God. Thought you were gettin’ sappy on me.”

Sojourn laughed at her remark, visibly relaxing even more into the other woman’s embrace.

“So, am I just gonna sit on your lap all night, or are you gonna go further with this?”

Odessa’s smile could probably split her lip if she went any harder. She quickly scooped Vivian up and placed her on her back onto the bed closest to the window.

“Thought you’d never ask, Ms. Chase.”

Sojourn visibly shivered at the way her name rolled off her tongue and looked up at the taller woman. “So…what do you want me to do?”

Odessa was placing chaste kisses along her jawline, being careful not to leave any marks just yet. Her right hand glided along the other woman’s torso, letting her fingers drag along the swell of her chest before running them against the side of her stomach. She gave Vivian a bruising kiss against her lips before pulling away for air, her fully blown eyes staring her down as she panted slightly.“Just sit there and look pretty for me, yeah? Gonna make sure you’re all mine by the end of the night.”“Ooh. Let’s see how well you can do that then.”

Odessa clicked her tongue sharply and started tugging at the clothes that covered the smaller woman’s frame. After a few moments, Sojourn was laid bare for Odessa to behold, her dark skin virtually glowing under the moonlight that shone through the window behind them.

“Fuck…look at you.”

Vivian groaned softly as the chilly air blanketed her body. She looked up at Odessa, grinning slightly at how hypnotized she looked at the moment. “Like what you see, Ms. Stone?”

“Definitely. Mind sitting up f’me sweetheart?” Odessa grinned as she sat up without hesitation, looking up at the woman with some form of anticipation written all over her face. The Queen swiftly positioned herself behind her, pulling her backwards to lay her back against her chest. She chuckled as Vivian parted her legs, sliding them underneath Odessa’s own to lock herself into place. “Didn’t even need to say anything, huh? Such a big girl for me…”

Her fingers traced imaginary lines against the insides of her thighs, purposefully avoiding where Vivian needed them the most. Vivian groaned softly and made an attempt to buck her hips forward, but the Queen’s legs proved to be a stronger barrier than she anticipated. “C’mon then, I know your parents taught you to say what you needed. Talk to me.”

“Fuck, Dez- please- your fingers…”“Hm? What about 'em?”“Want them..inside. Please..!”

“Oh? Inside? I can do that.”

One can only imagine Vivian’s surprise when her fingers slid into her mouth, Odessa chuckling at her obvious confusion. “Can let em be completely dry now can I? You know what to do now, don’t cha sweetheart?” The grin that spread across Odessa's face was undeniable as Vivian silently hollowed her cheeks out and coated her fingers, letting her tongue swirl around the digits expertly.

"That's a good girl…Just like that. You want my fingers inside you beautiful?"

Vivian's nod was so pitiful that Odessa decided to cut her some slack. This was their first time, after all. She gently slid her fingers out and marveled at how coated they were already. She chuckled lowly at the way Vivian groaned, impatience written all over her body language.

"Needy little thing hm? Alright, alright, I gotcha."

She ran her hand towards the other woman’s entrance, cooing softly at the way Vivian moaned needily for any form of contact.

“Cute…”

She gently traced along her folds, taking care to gather up any arousal that crept its way out of her hole. Her middle finger teased at her entrance, giving it small love taps before slowly sliding its way inside of her heat, causing both of them to groan at the intrusion.

“I just started and you’re already soaked? You must’ve been needing this for a good while huh?”

“Mm..mhm..don’t stop please…”“Wasn’t planning to, sweetheart.”

Vivian hissed softly as another finger slid its way inside, allowing Odessa to do a ‘come hither’ motion, grazing her fingers up against her g-spot. Within a matter of seconds, Odessa was blessed to watch the other’s back arch deliciously as a clear stream of arousal shot out of her. Both women groaned loudly as the Queen quickly swiped her fingers against her clit, causing the rest of her orgasm to spew out across her thighs and tummy.

“Well would ya look at that…”

She gently shifted Vivian to lay flat on her back as she moved around to face her entrance, preening with pride at how blissed out the smaller woman looked already. Her fingers gently pulled her lips apart, chuckling at how her clit quivered in anticipation. “You want more hun? Or do ya wanna take a breather?”“More please. Right now. Want your tongue on me this time, though.”

“Gettin’ demanding with ya Queen now? You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Vivian parted her legs even further as Odessa knelt down in front of her cunt, her breath sending shivers down her spine as the taller woman’s hands rested on her thighs, keeping her sufficiently open for her.

“You look…delicious spread out like this. All f’me yeah? No one else?”“Yes, yes it’s all for you Odessa. Please…tongue…?”

“So fuckin needy babygirl. You want your Queen to eat you out? Such a pretty girl f’me...”

She let her tongue lay flat against her pussy, smirking as Vivian’s breath caught in her throat from the sheer warmth of it. She placed her thighs on her shoulders, giving Vivian one last look before closing her eyes and swirling her tongue around her clit. The way the woman above her whined was more than enough to make her jeans even more uncomfortable, but she pushed her needs to the side for a bit longer.

"Oh shit yeah- Dezzy right there..! Oh God yes yes yess!"

Odessa moaned loudly into her cunt, reveling in the constant string of moans and pleas coming from the other woman. Her chin and cheeks were drenched in slick, and her jaw was on the verge of locking from how rough she had gotten. Deciding that breathing was probably important at the moment, she pulled away from her core, smirking as she watched the string of spit and cum dribble everywhere between them. Before Vivian could complain, she slid her fingers back inside, hitting her g-spot dead on. To say Vivian was seeing stars would be an understatement as her toes curled and she moaned wetly into the pillow next to her.

"Gonna squirt on my fingers again princess? Come on, talk to me."

"Mhmmm…oh GodDD OH-"

She grinned proudly as small streams of cum shot out around her fingers, hitting her arm and making it shine with slick. Vivian had tears running down her face from how intense everything was, panting softly and sniffling a bit. Her clit was still quivering from the stimulation, and she whined softly as Odessa slid her fingers out of her, another glob of slick coming out of her when she licked her fingers clean.

"Fuck that was amazing…"

"Glad you enjoyed it."

Vivian blinked in confusion as Odessa got up and walked towards the bathroom.

"Wait- wait that's it? What about you?"

"Ah, I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."

Vivian huffed and sat up slightly, squinting at the other woman in annoyance.

"Odessa, that's…No. C'mere I wanna return the favor."

Odessa stiffened a bit at her words, turning on her heel to face her fully.

"You sure? It's not gonna be…what you expect."

The shorter woman chuckled and patted the space next to her, making herself as inviting as possible.

"It can't be that bad right? And besides. I really do want to return the favor. Please?"

"Fine…fine. But don't say I didn't warn ya."

Vivian smiled softly as the other woman sat next to her and kissed her gently, running her hand along her thigh. She briefly grazed over the prominent bulge at the front of her jeans, kissing her neck gently as her fingers dipped below the waistband of the clothing. She didn't miss when Odessa's skin heated up from her touch, and she definitely didn't miss when the taller woman groaned loudly from the attention.

"Comfortable?"

"Yeah…fuck. Keep goin."

"May I take these off then?"

She snickered as she kicked her jeans off herself, letting her dick spring up at attention and making Vivian's mouth water with excitement. It was a shade or two darker than the rest of her body with a slightly blushed tip, easily the width of Vivian's arm, looked to be about seven inches, and was pierced at the tip and the balls. Without even thinking, she scrambled to kneel on the floor in front of her lap, getting a new view to take in just how big the Queen really was.

"I've heard rumors, but seeing this in person…they weren't giving you enough credit."

"I take it you like what you see then?"

"How about I show you just how much I like it?"

After a breathy nod in her direction, Vivian gently wrapped her hand around the base of the shaft, being careful not to actually move her hand at all. She drooled slightly at the way her dick twitched from the contact, moaning softly as precum dribbled out the tip. 

"Someone's excited… Want me to put my mouth on it? Or do you wanna throat fuck me?"

Odessa's eyes couldn't be any more blown out as she sat up a bit. She gently grasped the back of her head, giving Vivian ample time to back out if she second-guessed herself.

"Just keep your mouth slack f'me awright?"

"Yes…my Queen."

She squinted a bit at the title and smirked devilishly, gently slapping her dick across her cheek.

"Be a good girl and beg for it. Tell your Queen how badly you want her dick down your throat."

Vivian whined softly at her command, slipping a hand between her thighs to calm herself down a bit. She didn't even say anything, she just looked up at Odessa and stuck her tongue out, waiting for her to make a move.

"Well, I can't say no to that now can I?"

Inch by inch, her dick entered into the other's waiting mouth, causing Vivian to gag slightly and Odessa to sigh in bliss from the warmth of it all.

"Aww, she's got a reflex. Cute…"

She slowly pulled it out and slid it back in, taking note of the tears forming at the edges of the smaller woman's eyes.

"You want more, beautiful?"

"Mhmm…"

"Relax your throat a bit then…good girl…"

Vivian's eyes looked absolutely sinful with the way she looked up at Odessa. After a few moments to let her really mull it over, Odessa gently grasped the back of her head and fucked her throat a bit faster than before. She chuckled at the sounds the other woman was making, taking note of the two fingers that rapidly shot in and out of the other's cunt. Odessa briefly wondered if the metal parts of her fingers would hurt her, but her thoughts were cut short as her knees almost buckled when Vivian moaned around her dick. She grasped the base of the back of her hair and hit the back of her throat dead-on for a few seconds. Odessa could barely get a warning out before ribbons of cum shot down Vivian's throat. The taller woman pulled out gently before her nerves got overwhelmed, and she sat down and watched in surprise as Vivian swallowed her load without a second thought.

"Jesus Christ…think that was the best head I've had in a minute."

Vivian gleamed at the praise and kissed the Queen's thigh gently. She stood up and calmly took off Odessa's shirt- with her permission of course- and started kissing along the scars and freckles that littered her body. 

"Perfect…"

She looked up at the taller woman and smiled slightly, absentmindedly tracing lines against her stomach.

"How do you want me, my Queen?"

"Lay across my lap for a second. Gotta make sure this pretty pussy is ready f'me doll."

Vivian couldn't help the impatient groan that came from the back of her throat, but she complied anyway, looking back a bit to see what the other woman was doing. She sighed softly as her middle and ring fingers slid inside of her, with Odessa doing a scissoring motion this time around.

"That's my girl. Wanna see if you can take another?"

"Mhm…"

She wiggled her ass a bit to entice her, groaning as Odessa roughly grabbed some of the flesh, squeezing it slightly. Her breath hitched as her index finger slid in, making her press her forehead into the sheets and moan from how exposed she felt.

"Atta girl. Pretty thing drooling all over my thigh yeah?"

She smirked as she sped up her movements, watching in astonishment at the way Vivian's ass rippled from the force of her fingers and the way she moaned into the sheets, gripping onto them for dear life. Odessa grinned as arousal began to pool at the base of her fingers, letting her other hand slip down and rub her clit, matching the speed of the fingers inside of her. Vivian's eyes rolled back as her back arched once more, and they both moaned as her orgasm trickled down her thighs and dripped along the length of Odessa's arm. The shorter woman was trembling as she rode out the last of her high. She whined softly as Odessa slid her legs out from under her, causing her to slump into the bed.

Odessa gently rolled her onto her back, rubbing her sides gently to pull her back down to the earth and ground her. 

"Dezzy..?"

"Mhm?"

"Want you to fuck me…want that dick inside me please…"

"Let your body catch up a bit and mellow out a bit before we continue ok?"

She pouted a bit, but she knew the other woman was right.

"Ok…"

"Good girl."

After a few minutes of gentle touches and soft kisses, Odessa found herself kneeling in front of Vivian’s cunt, pushing her legs apart gently. She shuffled a bit closer, letting Vivian's thighs lean against her own. Her dick rested on top of her mound as she leaned in to kiss her, dragging her tongue along her jaw and nipping the skin gently.

"Marking your territory?"

"Hm. I guess you could say so. You ready?"

"Mhm.."

"Use your words."

"I'm ready, Odessa. Please…"

She grinned and kissed her one more time, slowly slipping into her heat, making them both groan loudly. Odessa gingerly placed her hands on either side of Vivian’s head, peering down at her with a lopsided smile.

"Fuck…There we go. So fucking tight f'me yeah?"

"Yess oh my God!"

Vivian scrambled for purchase, gripping the Queen's upper arms to ground herself. Odessa smirked at her reaction, kissing her forehead gently as she pushed in a bit deeper.

"That's my girl. Pretty pussy made f'me ain it?"

The shorter woman nodded in a daze, clearly still adjusting to the sheer girth of the Queen. She tightened experimentally around her dick, causing both of them to groan softly. Odessa kissed and nipped at Vivian’s jaw and neck, letting the other woman take as much time as necessary to get used to her. Vivian sighed softly, letting her legs become slack against the taller woman’s hips as she loosened her grip on her arms. “You can move now…”

Odessa slowly pulled herself up to sit on her thighs as she pushed Vivian’s thighs apart.

“Tell me if it gets too much for ya, kay?” 

“Okay.”

Slowly, she pulled her dick out, only leaving the tip inside. She marveled at how plush the other’s cunt looked around her like this, with her pretty lips fluttering around the head of her cock like a vice. Vivian’s head lolled to the side as she slid back inside, moaning at how full she felt.

“O-ohh shit…”

“Atta girl. There we fucking go.”

Odessa couldn’t help but swipe at her clit as she began to speed up a bit, taking in every bit of Vivian’s reactions to her. She swore she could see her dick imprint itself in her stomach, but maybe her imagination was just running wild. The other woman’s moans were certainly not her imagination though, and she grinned like an imp at how quickly she had wound her up.

“Look at ya- fuck..!” She groaned loudly and pressed Vivian’s knees up to her chest, angling her dick in a way that hit her g-spot dead on once again. If Vivian wasn’t a moaning mess, she’d probably ask her how the hell she was finding it so quickly. Odessa smirked as she pressed her palm against her stomach, causing Vivian to squirm from the quickly building pressure.

“Fuckk Odessa!!”“Talk to me, pretty girl. C’mon, I’m all ears.”

“Hnn- fuck you’re gonna make me cum oh God.”

She smirked and leaned in close to Vivian’s face, taking in just how disheveled she looked. 

“Sorry, couldn’t quite hear that. Mind speakin up f’me pretty?”

She kissed along her jaw again and sped up the hand that was rubbing her clit tenderly. Vivian’s whines went up an octave, Odessa swore it. She gripped the taller woman’s shoulders and moaned wetly into the crook of her neck.

“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop. So close…”

The Queen grinned as her thighs began to tremble. She pulled out as gently as possible, hastily scooped her up by the hips, and pressed her mouth into her cunt. She smirked as she felt the shorter woman’s release pour onto her tongue like water, savoring every drop like it was her first and last meal. After a few moments, she gently placed Vivian back onto the sheets and jerked herself off, sighing softly as cum dribbled onto the darker woman’s stomach.

GYAT

Should I put my taglist here..?

as always, hope you enjoyed!! ♡♡

[notsuch]

Reading Junker lore as an Australian is like, hilarious because it's a wild ride of being so clearly not knowing what the frick it was saying THAT MADE IT CYCLE ALL THE WAY BACK INTO MAKING SENSE AGAIN. But also, that literally, whether it's Overwatch or Other Global Forces, is to blame for the Junkers being what they are, because wow.

But to start with, the problem is essentially this: Blizzard just don't know what the frick the Outback is.

SO BUCKLE UP KIDS THIS IS A LONG-ASS POST, I GOT SOME SHIT YOU NEED TO UNDERSTAND ABOUT HOW THE JUNKERS CAME ABOUT. But there are pictures I promise. I also wanna say that I am not here to say that the Omnic war, the discussions of human-omnic relationships is like X real-world thing, I'm here to look at how the world is and how they've said it develops in Overwatch, and what that implies for the world development, that's all. I was just real excited at how averagely aussie Leah is in her portrayal of Junker Queen is and it made me want to ground it more in my home okok and I thought other people might want to understand that too.

CW: for talking about war tactics, statistics and wide-scale loss of life.

TL;DR for my post on Aussie Shit: the Outback is not a defined location. You will never be able to stick it into a GPS and find it. It is a conceptual area that can be defined as 'semi-rural to rural'. But also it's an almost folklorish concept of the Australian 'heart' that can extend over what can be seen in the below map. I will advise this is actually a map of bushland types, which is why it doesn't include Tasmania, but just to be clear, Tasmania AS WELL has Outback regions, and also, this can extend further East fairly comfortably depending on who you talk to. For instance, this map doesn't reach Tamworth OR Dubbo, buuuuuut most people would consider it as being on the edge of the Outback, for instance.

Oh, you might now be saying, that's most of the country, isn't it?

YEAH.

And as you'd expect for a piece of land THE SIZE OF FUCKING EUROPE, it's hugely broad in its landscape, too. You will find everything in the concept of the "Outback" depending, again, on who you talk to. From the Daintree Rainforest (left pic) (around Cairns to Cooktown) to the Great Australian Bite (middle pic) (the bottom C curve between Adelaide to Perth) to the central Australian town with a population of 26,000+ people, Alice Springs (right pic).

Yet the wiki lists it as "The Outback omnium and its Omnics were given the Australian omnium and its surrounding land after the Omnic Crisis."

UHM. BLIZZARD. 1) WHERE IS IT, AGAIN??? MEEKATHARRA IS A PRETTY DIFFERENT PLACE TO THE MOUNT ISA and 2) THAT'S A LOT OF "SURROUNDING LAND". THAT'S IN FACT, MOST OF THE COUNTRY, IF I WAS TO COUNT IT AS BROADLY AS YOU SEEM TO BE THROWING IT AROUND? IT'S A LOT OF LAND.

It takes 4 days of STRAIGHT DRIVING, NO BREAKS, to cross from Sydney to Perth. The entirety of Europe fits inside of Australia, the main block of the united states, bar Alaska, is basically comparable in scale from Washington to San Fransico. Or the furthest East Coast of Brazil to the West Coast of Peru. YOU GET IT.

This then leads to the second problem, Blizzard keeps saying that the only people out there were "a few solar farmers and people who wanted to be left alone".

WITH A POPULATION TOTAL OF 600,000 - 700,000 THOUSAND PEOPLE IN JUST REGIONAL TOWNS, NO, THE OUTBACK REGIONAL DISTRIBUTION IS NOT "JUST A FEW PEOPLE WHO WANT TO BE ALONE AND A COUPLE OF FARMERS IG".

NOT TO MENTION DARWIN. It's the little dot at the top of the Northern Territory and is a Capital City of the region. Sometimes called Australia's "Outback City", HAS A POPULATION OF 130,000 ALONE. Across it all, this map barely scratches the surface, there are over 60 Outback Towns or Settlements in total. We only have a total net population of 27 million. THAT'S ACTUALLY A WHOLE ASS 2-3% OF OUR WHOLE POPULATION.

This comes to the second point and often the hardest for people to get their heads around: whilst our population is not as high, THAT DOESN'T MEAN WE AREN'T USING THAT LAND AND IT'S NOT CULTURALLY AND ECONOMICALLY IMPORTANT TO US. No, we don't have massive inland lakes and rivers the way other places do, to have huge cities out there, but WE STILL HAVE TO SUPPORT OUR AGRICULTURAL AND MINING SECTOR THAT DOES USE THAT LAND. AND IT'S ACTUALLY. VERY. EXTENSIVE.

How extensive? Man, our largest by-land Cattle Station is Anna Creek Station, coming in at a cool 2 million acres (which is as big as the whole of Israel apparently???), or the most densely populated-by-cow one currently, Brunette Downs, which at present has 110,000 head of cattle. Don't care about cows? are you a monster cows are just slow puppos who want love omfrg WELL I BET YOU CARE ABOUT IRON, AND GUESS WHAT, WHATEVER IRON YOU HAVE IN YOUR HOUSE RN PROBABLY CAME FROM AUSTRALIA, GIVEN WE PROVIDE 90% OF THE WORLD'S IRON. Oh, also we have a shitton of uranium as well, btw. just. putting that out there.

Here is JUST PASTORAL STATIONS, you'll notice HOW MANY ARE ACTUALLY IN THE SAME AREA I JUST SHOWED:

AND HERE ARE OUR MINES, this is not just iron, we also dig many other minerals, and including the world's largest opal mine:

These cattle stations and mines stretch across the inland regions for miles upon miles, fuelling our jobs and our place in the world economy. Which I ask you this: If you're Cattle Hand Tinny Rogers from central Queensland who's gotta take care of Jenny the Cow whose due to give birth soon, you aren't driving 13 fucking hours to Brisbane City to get a pack of smokes, are you? No. Tinny Rogers just goes to the Longreach general store only 1-2 hours away, doesn't he? Then goes back to his property and tells Jenny it's going to be ok, sits his ass down with his smokes for the night, relieved he only had to go a little while.

And all those people were actually the first wiped out.

This is where this gets real freaking awful. AGAIN, CW: for talking about war tactics, statistics and wide-scale loss of life.

Now the only battle in Australia we are shown, is Sydney and that initially also made me go 'huh?' Because if the Omnic Core is in the Outback, wherever that might be, this is an overland invasion, internal to external, as opposed to an external invasion aka coming from the sea, why would you attack Sydney?

Don't get me wrong, Sydney is important. To our international position most especially. It's a financial centre, like New York is to America, it controls a great deal of our actual "economy" in the like, perception of 'if it falls, our economy tanks' kinda sense. It's also a manufacturing centre, meaning that raw goods from the rest of the country are turned into other goods there, and then shipping it out, Tactically, if you are trying to park ships, Darling Habour is ideal, as it's one of two 'natural' harbours in the world (the other being in Hong Kong), meaning its VERY DEEP even close to the land which makes it ideal for ships to come close. So someone attacking from the sea wants it. Lastly - probs why Blizzard picked it, is it is the identifiably 'Australian City'.

But it's not our capital city, that's Canberra, which is where our House of Parliament is. It's not where our military is, no, 40% of the Australian Army is based in Brisbane, and the largest naval base is in Perth. Darwin and Cairns are actually the biggest ports that are more directly connected to Asia in trade given it's a hop, skip and a jump from there to Papa New Guinea, which are actually our closest neighbour and with it, connects us to the whole of South East Asia. The very tip of QLD, to the bottom of PNG is more like the space of the English Channel, btw, for how close they are.

In the Omnic Crisis, the economy has ALREADY collapsed. It did the minute the Omnics attack, basically lmao. Then secondly, this ISN'T EXTERNAL, this is internal. Whether the Outback Omnium is in Kalgoorlie or Birdsville, it is in the middle of the country, and it is sending its forces from a regional location. They aren't attacking by sea, so they don't have to care about a landing bay.

AND HERE IS THE LAST IMPORTANT PART, OUR ARMY IS SMALL. It's only like 80,000 armed personnel, compared to the US and it's insanity of 1mill+, but we're bigger than uh,,, New Zealand I guess? Uh,,, yeah our numbers don't even rank in the big three armies of the world, or like, beyond our little bubble of Oceania. We also do have a pretty good navy but if you've been following along so far, uh, yeah, THAT'S going to do fuck all for Alice Springs, isn't it? Don't get me wrong, our forces are all well trained and highly specialised because of it but like, we don't have the numbers to be splitting up over many fronts, lmao.

By virtue of it all, they are in the middle of the country and will have STEAM ROLLED across these regional areas because some are big, sure but they are just towns with no defences against a rampaging robot army, are you kidding? Let alone if Anubis is suddenly using every robot, I can't imagine how many different kinds are incorporated in all the different mining regions and digging sights?! Some of them were clearly as big as the Titan Bots we see, judging by this shit still being left around years later -

Rolling into somewhere like poor fucking Meekatharra?!

also, seriously: what is the ever loving fuck is that thing on the left why are its arms made out of the BODIES OF OTHER OMNICS JFC WHO LET THE OMNICS PLAY BLOODBORNE OR SOMETHING, I S2G.

THESE POOR BASTARDS ALREADY HAVE TO LIVE IN MEEKATHARRA, THAT'S HARD ENOUGH, LET ALONE WHEN SKYSCRAPER-BOT THE MIGHTY ROLLED IN FROM THE DESERT.

This means that they now control all regional supplies anyway to go and target those places because they say one consistent thing about Anubis' attacks: they were efficient and direct.

"The Omnics Advance" is what they call this so from the wiki as to the state of places the Omnics leave behind, uh, yeah, BYE MEEKATHARRA, MY MUM'S STORIES ABOUT YOU WERE NICE IG?

o ok,,,,, sure, what does all this have to do with Sydney then? Where does it fit in?

I don't want you to think Sydney wouldn't be attacked. Of course it would be, eventually.

Because it's the last populated place in Australia. They can just leave Sydney because it is somewhat tactically the hardest to attack, overall, if it has support from the others, so you leave it till last where you've cut off the support, wiped out supply lines and it is now flooded with refugees from the rest of the country.

They call it the Battle of Sydney but that's not actually what you do to cities?? You siege them, because they take time, and they're certainly implying that yes, it would have taken time. Yeah no, I am not making that up, the Battle of Stalingrad for instance took five months. I make the distinction because sieges aren't about individual aspects in conflict, it's a game of chicken between the two sides of who can hold out longest. Who can sustain the constant chipping away? Sometimes it's a matter of just starving each other out, but in others, it's a constant bombardment.

With everything I just laid out, you can probably have worked it out: Australia can't sustain itself, at this point. We are cut off from our supplies, and we are unable to get actual international support because they're all, ALSO, dealing with this, and now are flooded with escaping refugees. Perth, Adelaide, Darwin, and Brisbane are gone. Which Australia's population of 27 million, is now down to, if I'm being kind, to 10-11 million (5 million in Sydney + then escapees from Melbourne, Canberra, and maybe some from Tasmania too if they could manage it, I can't say I would have much hope for those poor buggers in Perth). Sydney could not feed all the refugees because again, it does not produce raw supplies itself, and it now no longer has the numbers to keep up the fight.

It'd be incredible if they could keep it going for a month because by then, we're not facing 'this is war and people will die', Australia is now at 'we will be annihilated and there will BE no Australian people'. 60-70% of our population is dead to the war, and the rest are getting killed every day from THE TITANS LITERALLY JUST STOMPING THEIR WAY THROUGH, starving or getting sick from bad food and water.

And Australia never had a very big population, to begin with, our army isn't big if it even really exists anymore. We cannot sustain those losses. What the Omnics were hanging over Sydney at this moment is so much worse than just 'we screwed your economy for the foreseeable future'.

They are leveraging 'there will be no Australians left.' Whether the slow eradication from disease and hunger that a siege does, or in immediate and sudden violence?

So I have no doubt, even though Blizzard had no idea what they said, that it's actually entirely possible the Omnics said "idk we want the outback" and the Australian Government went YEAH, SURE, ANYTHING NOT TO GET OBLITERATED, IG?

And what's more, afterwards, whatever chance there might have been to take some of those places back - no one, NO ONE, was going to do more than rebuild the Sydney-Canberra-Melbourne strip on the outside to allow for better distribution. But who knows Anubis might have been a dick and said YOU ONLY GET SYDNEY. For one thing, taking back even something like Adelaide requires re-engaging, and on the other.......... they have this, now, that's alright, isn't it? It's the most modern part of Australia, it certainly seems like plenty, right? Other COUNTRIES exist with LESS and THRIVE!

I can't say I necessarily blame them, at that point it has to be a pure numbers game: Mexico City, which has also been destroyed, and it has almost as many people in JUST Mexico City as we have in total population. Sydney must have seemed, well, close enough. We're rebuilding this bit which will roughly sustain you (it won't, actually), but then we gotta take the resources to other devastated places that don't need FOUR CAPITAL CITIES, 10 OTHER IMPORTANT CITIES, A MINIMUM OF 30 REGIONAL TOWNS AND A FULL RECONSTRUCTION OF A INLAND NETWORK SPANNING THE ENTIRETY OF THE UNITED STATES IN SHEER SCALE. Things as they were, at the time, it must have seemed.... well yeah. Not worth it.

Which now - hey that's pretty intense, actually that's horrific for the sheer loss of life, how can you be sure the devastation is that severe? And that in turn everyone just did what SEEMED enough with little to no consideration of its long term impact and if it had any sustainability to us? That's extreme to insinuate?

Well if not the direct implication of '30 million orphans worldwide' that means for every orphan, there are two dead parents, and then the two families next door that DIDN'T survive, to tell you the average statistics of the war casualties......

The other is simple: Junkertown exists.

Junkertown cannot exist, if there was anything left of those cities or those 60+ regional towns, pre or post-explosion of the core. Because here is the thing, if there was a chance, a single chance, we could take back that important space of the Outback, we would. In a heartbeat. I think that's why the Australian Government allowed the ALF to exist in the first place and did not stop them when they most definitely could have.

I can explain the economics of what being an island nation at the ass end of the world means as to how we are so completely fucked economically at this point, but this part is more important, even if it's often the hardest for non-Australians to wrap their heads around because they squeal about 'how scary' it is all the time is this:

We love that land. That land is our home. Yes, even with its spiders and snakes, not in spite of, but all of it, good and bad. In one sense that yes, that literally hundreds of thousands of people lived dispersed across it, but culturally it goes beyond just that direct 'my house is there'. One of our most successful ad campaigns by a freaking flight company exists on a simple premise: 'no matter how far, and how wide I go, I still call Australia home'. (The first version of it aired in the 90s, for reference, also yes, Junkrat actually has a line that echos the sentiments of this song 'I've been all around the world, but there's nowhere that compares to home' Not sure if it was on purpose but I smiled a little to myself when I first heard it). Yeah. That's it. Not fighting or glory or power. The rest of the world is beautiful, but this one is ours, and we love it for what it is. Something that is personified in that image of red sand dunes and scrub, in the arid flatness, the wattle and the gum, even to the kid that grew up in the middle of the Sydney suburbs, as his childhood home, that tugs in his heart as much as his childhood toys.

Even though I know a bunch of Aussies just read this and were like GROAN, SHUT UP, WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO, QUOTE BANJO PATTERSON, CAN'T CATCH ME WITH THAT SHIT,,,,

I fucking see you, I fucking know you. I only gotta say one fucking thing to you pretending you're above it:

RED DOG JUST WANTS TO KNOW, HAVE YOU SEEN JOHN? HE'S LOOKING YOU IN THE EYES, HAVE YOU SEEN JOHN?

Yeah, that's what I goddamn thought.

That we'd lose all reason to do some stupid shit like the ALF attempted to recover it? Uh, yeah. We just lost most of our population, we can't bury them, and how quickly would that landscape of our home carry that memory of them, and yet, we are cut from even that.

But to reclaim all that land you need supply chains, rebuilding as you go, AN ARMY ABLE TO HOLDING THAT SPACE AGAINST WHATEVER THE FUCK A "FERAL OMNIC" IS??? SERIOUSLY, AGAIN, DID THEY DOWNLOAD THE 'FROM SOFTWARE CREATIVE SUITE' ON THAT OMNIC??? And with that in mind, and how everyone and everything is gone for us, that would require HUGE international backing.

And if they had all of that, with all that effort, like HELL are they letting a SEPERATE SOVERIGN NATION JUST SPRING UP IN THE MIDDLE OF IT, BEING A BUNCH OF VIOLENT ASSHOLES, MAKING IT HARDER by STEALING SHIT ALL THE TIME on top of BLOCKING ACCESS TOO SOME OF OUR MOST RESOURCE RICH LAND. I know this might be a struggle, but on top of loving that space, we also enjoy idk, stability? Not dying? Junkertown would compromise that, completely. Especially the dying bit, I feel. Speaking as an Aussie, I, like many Australians, do appreciate that they will in fact die one day, and hopefully, doing so by driving a ride-on mower around hills hoist chasing a goon sack as god intended for this beautiful country, but overall, just randomly dying in a Wolf Creek-like situation because you were trying to build a fuckin road, isn't how most of wanted it to go down. Some might, I will not shame my fantasy countrymen in the post-apocalypse world of Overwatch-Australia, times seem tough for Tinny Rogers and Jenny out there, and they have a right to pick how they get by.

SO YEAH, THE FUCK NOT, MY GUYS. THEY'D SQUISH THAT SHIT LIKE A BUG.

But if they are recovering from near annihilation, unsupported, told to just deal with it because they got what they got - Junkertown can do what we see, and in its strange way: flourish.

Then it comes to how it's being handled by the rest of the in-game world as to how it's just been allowed to let slide by everyone fucking else even if clearly every time one of these desert-fuckers gets out, it's a DAMN NIGHTMARE FOR WORLDWIDE SECURITY.

You hear Zarya call it "the mistakes of this country", which given how people treat the Junkers as a whole in game, seems to be a commonly held sentiment. A mistake. There is little to no comprehension of them, or what they have been victim to. Again probably because Blizzard itself has no idea what it just accidentally implied. We don't have enough lore to really say how many countries share this fate of losing 80% of their entire nation and people, and with it, almost their whole selves? Of them, how many got complete reconstruction? Given their common theme of corporate greed, developments in post-war society and their subsequent inequality, I'd say some people get reconstruction support and others don't (the interactions of Lucio and Symmetra for instance) based on convenience, and the sentiment from many powers in history has often been 'Australia is very far away, and I don't care'.

To call it 'a mistake' then, redirects blame from those inequalities and the present-day situation having beyond anyone's possible conception.

If it's 'a mistake', it's not a self-destructive spiral of suffering people who have been pushed beyond even common sense anymore. That lash out in desperation over a loss that cannot be quantified to any sum, yet were told that a price had actually been put on it, and no one was interested in paying it, and they had to live with what they got now. Then with no other output for the misery, in some desperate bid to reclaim even a SHRED of a memory, just vent their pain for a damn second, damned themselves and their home. Everyone who was in power and authority to have stepped in at any time to give the support needed and direct it more meaningfully before this, but never did, everyone who made those choices, is now complicit in the rise of Junkertown and the Junkers due to their basic lack or inability to understand what had been lost and have empathy, has led to a situation where now there is an entirely separate type of threat in 'feral omnics' and a bunch of insane radioactive people.

Or just say it was 'a mistake'. Then it's just their fault, isn't it? It's just a small, negligible little choice that WE won't make. We can all pat ourselves on the back and say that at least because Australia is so far away, whatever is happening there, is now just isolated to them, and you can't expect help NOW that the desert is irradiated, it was ALREADY unfeasible, it's SO expensive, WHOSE going to fund that, for what gain, especially now you made this silly little 'choice'.

Acknowledging, even to stop the Junkers, means bringing their own failings to the spotlight when rightfully it comes back to 'why the fuck did these bastards exist in the first place? What made them so fucking stupidly, mindlessly, suicidally angry as to lash out like this? Why weren't they thinking, then, and why do they stay, even now? .... and why do all of them appear to be goddamn giants?'

So easier to just... let the Junkers do their thing, out in the desert. Make them the scapegoat for the tensions, a fixing point for even the Omnics (rightfully, obviously in their case) to hate, blame and fear, over more active, influential systems that have far more ability to affect the world. Especially when compared too: the bunch of crazy people in the fucking desert, who probably all die at 50 from that ambient radiation everywhere, getting new types of diseases that no one has ever HEARD of before and are apparently are like barely connected on networks to the rest of the world. WHAT KIND OF POWER TO AFFECT WORLD CHANGE DO YOU THINK THEY ACTUALLY HAVE?

Rather than acknowledge that people like Odessa Stone got their hatred probably from watching half her under 12 siblings die to omnics, and the other half to the situation in the Wasteland created by others' indifference. (And the reminder that, Odessa's mum in the first shot, is holding an infant, and the second moment of her flashback, Odessa is still roughly the same but all the kids left are too big for a 1 to 2-year-old, and Mama Stone isn't holding an infant anymore.) They do what often happens and put all the responsibility of moving on, ON the people who are literally in the middle of dying in a now 30-year war, that everyone ELSE keeps trying to desperately pretend it's over and stick their head in the sand. Thus just invalidating their pain and making them even MORE resistant. Especially when you contrast the rest of the world is getting influential people like Mondatta and Zen making changes, real strides forward, and they get......... lbr, just more graves while they're just being called crazy.

Akande says 'the world is designed to be this way', and I think part of the reason Odessa doesn't mind him, is that yeah, yeah she probably knows after she's seen other parts of the world now and its reconstruction efforts, compared to theirs, found them pretty wanting, and it's nice to hear someone else say it for once.

No WONDER Roadie says 'this isn't a city' about Junkertown, when he remembers when Australia had more than three cities total, it must seem like a mockery. But why people like Junker Queen and Junkrat have pride in it, inversely. They were children when the apocalypse came to Australia or were born in Junkertown itself, they live in the memory that must now only feel dead and impossible to recapture the life of. In many ways, their bookends to Ramattra, their first moments were taken into a life of roaring violence the world wants to pretend isn't happening, but this is all they ARE now. So they have done their best with it, even if no one wants to be reminded of what their sheer existence represents.

Yeah. 'Mistake' is much easier to swallow, isn't it?

So yeah, given ODESSA STONE IS OUT THERE IN THE WASTELAND BECOMING FUCKING GENGHIS KHAN OR SOMETHING, UNITING ALL THE WASTELAND FACTIONS, AND NO ONE IS NOTICING OR EVEN SLIGHTLY TAKING IT SERIOUSLY, whenever that blows up in their face and they cry HOW DID THIS GET SO BAD, WHAT HAPPENED, AUSTRALIA?!

Yeah. Ain't that the fucking question.

Or maybe all of this is complete nonsense and everything I just said will one day be shown to be entirely wrong as often happens because ultimately again, I don't think they MEANT MOST OF THIS LMAO, BECAUSE ONE MORE TIME: STOP SAYING 'OUTBACK'.

[acradelius]

Lime rating scenario 11 for Roadhog?

"Do You Trust Me?"

Fandom: Overwatch / Overwatch 2

Pairing: Roadhog ("Mako Rutledge") x Gender Neutral! Reader

Rating: Lime [🟢] - (Equivalent to PG-13)

Prompt: #11 - "Do you trust me?"

Warnings/Mention Ofs: Gender Neutral! Reader, They/Them Pronouns For Reader, Post! Omnic Crisis, Post! Austrian Liberation Front, Long Lost Spouse! Reader And Roadhog, Slightly Canon-But Mostly Non-Canon Background For Roadhog, Reminiscing, Reuniting, Junkrat Attempts To Scare Reader, Unmentioned Appearance Of Roadhog.

Word Count: 1,420 Words

Notes: Ultimately, I've always been fond of a cross universe for Overwatch, and Team Fortress 2 with Overwatch has always been a crossover favorite of mine. Therefore, the background for Roadhog is not fully canon for this post and more opinionated based on the crossover version I have for him. I've also based Reader's brother to be Sniper from Team Fortress 2, though for those wanting to keep it solely within the Overwatch universe it is not mentioned or hinted at.

If you'd like to be tagged for all posts, certain fandom posts, or certain character posts then feel free to message me!

Thirteen years, seven months, three weeks, four days, nine hours, forty-five minutes, twenty-three seconds.

That’s exactly how much time has passed since they had last been on the property. The last time that they had been on the property, what was supposed to be considered their forever home, before having been drove out of their home, their own hometown, by a revenge hungry mob of Omnics due to the destruction of the omnium and the surrounding area that had been gifted to them by the government after the Omnic Crisis. Between being stuck in constant cycles of depression and grievance, followed by just going through the same constant motions day by day, the sense of time had become blurred and eventually forgotten. It had essentially turned into a cycle of just whenever it was day and whenever it was night, nothing much more than that. What exactly was it that had caused (Y/N)’s thoughts to deter from their usual? To decide that maybe it would be best to deter from their usual schedule and routine of the life that they had come to know over this past decade and go on this trip back to their hometown with their older brother. 

At the moment, (Y/N) couldn’t give you a specific answer. 

Yet, secretly, it was that little spark of hope that had almost been snuffed out.

While that little spark of hope within them had been on the verge of being completely snuffed out throughout the last twelve years, it was difficult to determine now whether it would actually die away or find some reason, whatever reason, to become big, bright, and flaring once again. The moment was supposed to be a time of reminiscing, a time of (Y/N) closing their eyes and basking in the memories of how the past, how rundown things had become in the present. The neighboring town, “Junkertown”, was definitely something else now, a “rustic” town built by the scraps of the omnium that was populated by bands of lawless scavengers and their “Queen”. The surrounding area of the place that was supposed to be home almost mimicked the appearance of the “Junkertown”.

It was supposed to be where their home was going to be, where their business was going to be. ‘Rutledge Family Pig Farm’, that’s what it was supposed to be called. The stalls where the pigs and piglets were going to be held were now a non-existent thing, the land where they were going to be located was now just an area of destroyed land, as it would have to be completely dug up and releveled just to even begin making blueprints once again. How that enormous, custom made barn that (Y/N) remembers Mako and some of the neighboring farmers that worked alongside them in the agribusiness had spent countless hours building was now just a large pile of various junk, the typical combination of old wood and scrap metal. Lastly, but definitely not the least part about this small time frame of reminiscing, was the house that needed many renovations that were now just small ideas of the past, the house that was supposed to become their own. 

(Y/N) and Mako’s home. 

There was just absolutely too much about the current condition of the house to attempt to just focus upon one thing about it. How many of those renovations, the plans on how beautiful and homey the house was supposed to be, were now gone to the wind, it now looking like a ghost, an empty shell, of the former house that it used to be. It’s starting to become overwhelming, the various thoughts and memories from the past conflicting with the ‘what could’ve been’ type of possibilities that follow alongside it. 

“Hey,” There’s the typically gruff, yet soft, and comforting voice of (Y/N)’s brother, enclosing the distance between them to make sure that his younger sibling was getting the closure and something similar to comfort that they would need. A gentle hand upon the shoulder, a sign of reassurance that he was there if (Y/N) needed anything. “If you’d like we could always go grab something to eat, figure out wh-” Yet, the comforting words don’t last long, not with the words then being suddenly interrupted by the sounds of metal clanking, which was then followed by a few, small explosions going off around them. There’s a shriek of surprise that escapes past (Y/N)’s lips, eyes widening and frantically looking around in an frantic attempt to figure out the source of the bombs. 

“Got ‘em bastards, Roadie! Show them that the ‘Whole Hog’ doesn’t take kindly to people tryna’ steal from us!” 

Usually, it would’ve been the frag launcher wielding crackhead looking guy that would overtake the attention of (Y/N) in situations like this, hands becoming clammy and breath becoming shaky from the anxiety that was beginning to rise within them, but that wasn’t the case this time. Their attention was now more focused upon the large, heavy set man that was standing menacingly beside this person. It’s then that it begins to dawn on (Y/N), these two men weren’t just your run-of-the-mill type of Junkers, oh, no. ‘Roadhog’ and ‘Junkrat’, that’s what they were typically called, and were famous, wanted fugitives for their international crime spree that left nothing but havoc and bedlam within their wake. Despite that, there was just something about this ‘Roadhog’ person, something that (Y/N) couldn’t just necessarily pinpoint about it. Sure, this man was probably about the same size and build, if not just some tad bigger, than Mako had been as (Y/N) could last recall, yet, people could drastically change their appearance throughout almost fourteen years. While the man’s clothing, or lack of clothing more like it, was things that she couldn’t necessarily imagine Mako wearing, it was more similar to his aesthetic though. Yet, the more that (Y/N) would look over this mystery man the more similarities to Mako that they would be able to pinpoint. 

It had begun with the body comparisons..

Then it had transitioned with the clothing comparisons.. 

..how the man’s belly button stuck out quite a bit.

..how the man’s tattoo on his stomach was very, very similar.. 

If not, completely exactly how Mako’s was.. location and all.

..that little, homemade piggy patch that was upon the man’s vest.

There’s absolutely no way, is there? 

There’s absolutely no way that it could be him, that it could be- 

“-Mako?”

It’s just a moment that the name slips from (Y/N)’s lips and out into the air around the four of them that an intense, thick moment of silence overcomes them all. Well, it doesn’t last for long as Junkrat then begins spouting off along the lines of ‘Mako? Who’s Mako?’ and then he would elbow Roadhog and chuckle, ‘Get a load of these two! Thinking that one of us is this Mako person!’ Yet, there’s no response from his taller companion, just an unknown look that’s covered by the mask. An almost unsettling silence, but it slowly dissipates as Roadhog proceeds to enclose the distance between himself and (Y/N). A large hand of his reaches to grasp at the straps of his mask and then begins to slightly tug it from his head to reveal.. 

Mako Rutledge. 

Their partner, the one that was believed to have perished along with whatever other hopes and dreams that (Y/N) and Mako used to have, was this ruthless and harsh killer that was wanted worldwide for crimes various to basic misdemeanors to crimes that could only be conjured up within the mind of an extremely deranged psychopath. There couldn’t be any way that the Outback had changed Mako this much, right? To delve and essentially give in to this ‘Roadhog’ persona, but that was his life now, and ultimately, it makes (Y/N) take a moment to realize how much they had changed due to everything that they had gone through as well.

What they hadn’t been expecting was Mako’s large hand to a gentle hold of their own, how he used to whenever they were younger, whenever they had been genuinely happy and deeply in love with each other. Heart rates begin to accelerate, breathing becomes more quick paced and shaky, throat feeling as if it’s beginning to constrict slightly while vision slowly begins to become blurred from tears forming in (Y/N)’s eyes. 

“(Y/N).. Do you trust me?”

[wildissylupus]

Ok so I figured out another way for Ashe to join Overwatch without something happening with Dealock and with what we know about her upcoming short story it is possible that this is what's going to happen.

That is, Ashe and the rest of Dealock join forces with Overwatch because B.O.B, Bars and the other Deadlock Omnics are taken by Null Sector.

With Ashe's short story being described as bringing "heart-rending clarity" to B.O.B and Ashe's pre-crisis relationship, while also having they're present forms on the cover, and most of these stories presumably happening at the beginning of the Null Sector Invasion, it seems that history will repeat itself and B.O.B will be forced by the mind control things;

To fight along side Null Sector.

If I'm correct then I'm going to be killing Ramattra on sight. No one touches my favourite omnic dad.

Anyway-

I think this would be a good way to bring Ashe into the fold while also explaining why some areas of the world (specifically America) aren't a priority, Deadlock is a big gang and Overwatch has a lot of bases spread out so it could that Deadlock is helping the areas the new Overwatch can't get to. As I've stated in previous posts, most Deadlock members were victims of the first Crisis, so it doesn't make sense for any of them to join Talon. Overwatch and Deadlock joining forces against Null Sector and maybe even Talon would make the most sense, also gives us Ashe would join the main Overwatch group, she wants to get B.O.B and the others back and there is no way she would leave that up to a bunch of strangers and Cassidy.

Anyway that's my new theory!!

[liselicanis]

Good Things Fall Apart

[AO3 Link]

Chapter 2: Ratatouille

Three days later

It had taken her this long to finally find out what kind of omnic she had saved. A thorough search through all the holovids since before the first Omnic Crisis had finally revealed some answers.

Rubbing her eyes, Hana looked up from her computer screen to the omnic laying on her workshop table. An R-7000 model. She had heard a little bit about them in one of her history classes when she was in school. Seeing one was actually a rarity these days.

Even so, she also found out that no one sold any parts for R-7000's. She had checked thrice already, looking through every possible omnic repair site she could.

"Can't believe that not even Amazon has them," she muttered as she clicked away from the website. "'We sell everything from books to boats', what lies-"

On the table, Ramattra laid there, processing what the girl had said. Of course she wouldn't be able to find anything. When he had suffered a damaged forearm from a mishap in Nepal, it had taken nearly a year to find the necessary parts to repair it.

He cursed the humans who got the better of him, but most of all he cursed himself for allowing them to do so. He replayed that scene over and over, trying to figure out how he could have avoided ending up in such a pitiful state.

But perhaps he should be at the very least grateful that he's still alive. Even if he is unable to move or speak for the time being. He can even look past the fact that he's being helped by the humans he has come to hate.

Not the girl though. He can't quite find it in himself to completely hate her. For now he tolerates the fact that she's been touching him, inspecting his gears and wires, a frown on her face as she tried to picture what he must have looked like before she found him.

He knows he doesn't like the feeling of being so vulnerable whenever her good hand brushes against his faceplate. He can't feel the warmth, but even so, touching that area feels like a violation to him.

Sometimes he'll give her a warning, the remnants of his voicebox making terrible garbled sounds and hisses, sometimes he pretends to not be conscious, curious about what she's up to.

It is during those moments that he learns she talks a lot. To herself, sometimes to him, and a few times that other human is there, telling her to rest, or striking a conversation about mundane things. And something called a 'Tokki'.

(Did they have an omnic serving them under that name? If they ever managed to fully repair him, Ramattra would be sure to ask this 'Tokki' to join him.)

It comes to no surprise that she's talking again, but the girl is not too close so he can barely make out the words she's saying. Something about a rat?

"-from a long time ago. Can't compare to today's holovids but it has this charm to it. It's a slow movie, very different from the stuff that's produced today. Shame that company kinda fell off-" she keeps prattling on as she studies one of the fiber cables that once connected his shoulder to his right arm. "Hmm, you seem pretty big. Bet I could have ridden on your shoulders no problem."

As if he'd allow that.

There's a knock on the door and she's quick to cover him with a sheet before going to check who it is. Part of him detests her for doing this, even though he understands why she's doing it. To keep him a 'secret'. Perhaps her other companions held the same distrust towards omnics as he did towards humans but it's not like he'll know beneath a world of dimmed white light.

-

It's Dae-Hyun at the the door, holding a box of metal parts. Hana drags him inside the room before peeking her head out into the corridor to make sure no one else is around. All clear, good. Her mechanic goes over to the desk and gently places the box down, lifting an eyebrow at her when he spots the white sheet and the hulking mass he knows lies beneath.

"I'm surprised no one has seen that yet," he comments while Hana starts going through the box, picking up random pieces and inspecting them.

She picks up another piece to scrutinize before answering him. "Why would they? No one has gotten this far inside aside from you, and you're a special case." The piece gets set down in one of two piles. "These are from where I told you I found him?"

He nods and sits in her chair, elbows on his knees and fingers steepled together. "Yeah, there was just a lot of junk to go through. Whoever did this to your friend, they really went to town. I don't think it's every part but I did my best."

A nod is all he gets while she continues to sift through the piles, arranging and rearranging everything. "...no, this is too damaged, maybe we can try to see if we can replicate it and do an upgrade?"

"...aaaaand she's gone." Yet he smiled because that's just the kind of person he knew Hana was. When she was not defending their country she'd always be right beside him, both of them elbow deep in Tokki's inner mechanisms, repairing and upgrading everything they could. Covered in oil grease and muck. He watches her for a minute longer before turning to look at the covered omnic.

Getting up, he moved closer and removed the sheet to study the 'patient'. There was something about this omnic that didn't sit right with him, but he trusted Hana so for now he'd let it be.

"Any luck on finding parts on the net?" he asked curiously, his eyes trained on their guest's external chassis. It almost reminded him of a ribcage, and he shuddered. Spooky scary skeleton.

Hana glanced back for a moment and shook her head. "Nope! Nothing. Zip. Nada. The closest thing I could find was something from like, 30 years ago? Or something like that. R-7000. We weren't even a thought in our parents' heads yet, el oh el."

"R-7000? Huh. That sounds familiar," he removed the sheet and carefully folded it to set aside. He could have sworn he had heard about that type of omnic somewhere, but if this guy was from the times of the Crisis, then...

"...maybe we should leave him as is."

SMACK

A small Pachimari stress toy hits him square in the chest and landed on the floor with a defeated squeak. Hana is glaring daggers at him, her hand still extended from that throw.

"No. We've already brought him in, it would be cruel to stop now."

"But-"

Hana walked towards him, stopping short a few centimeters and jabbed a finger at him. "If you're not gonna help, then get out. I have work to do. Maybe Jae-eun will let you polish Princess or something."

He made a face. Sure he got along with Casino just fine but the guy was so very particular about his mech. "Hana-" but he's quickly pushed out of the room and the door is slammed in his face.

He hesitated on knocking again, but decided against it. If she wanted to be alone, that's fine. Maybe he shouldn't have voiced his thoughts out loud. The thing was, he was concerned about her health. Since she was told not to touch Tokki was she looking at that omnic as a replacement until she could?

Well, he can always apologize later when she's less upset.

-

Hmph. That boy was smarter than he looked. That human had every reason to be suspicious of him. Ramattra would make sure to remember that. The sounds of the girl moving metal was annoying, but what could he do about it?

Nothing but lay there and contemplate his situation. So far the humans had removed a bit more of his hardware joints, which he wasn't pleased about. At one point he did manage to get a glimpse of what they were doing, studying the pieces, the girl trying to fit things together as if he were some complex puzzle.

It both irritated and amused him, if he wanted to be honest. Humans were the ones who 'created' them but they still knew so little about omnics. She was young, so he knew that she hadn't been around during the times were his people were far more numerous than today.

During the past three days, he did also learn that she was part of a team that was responsible from holding the Gwishin at bay. Admirable, but in the end, how long would just 5 children hold out against an omnic army? How would they fare against his Null Sector?

Now there was a thought. Perhaps somewhere down the line he would bring his troops here and-

A soft sniffle interrupts his train of thought. She's standing over him again, looking quite pitiful as she presses a few buttons to move the table into a more upright position. There are unshed tears in her eyes as she does her best to ignore whatever is wrong with her.

"Don't worry, I'll fix you. You deserve that at least."

What was he, a project? She seemed to know her way around tools but the fact that she seemed so fixated on him was rather odd. If she know who he really was, would she still be doing this? Wasn't she a protector of humanity?

She's still touching him, petting the cables he had attached to his head. It was a choice he definitely had made to give himself a little more individuality at the monastery. He was secretly proud of them, but that was something no one would ever pry out of his hard drives. Yet here she is, acting like he was some household pet while she muses to herself. She knows he can hear her, right?

"You know, in the movie I was talking about, the little guy controls the human by tugging on his hair." He does the omnic equivalent of an eyeroll by flashing his lights, causing her to laugh and step back. "Wow okay, I know. Stupid idea, but hey, maybe you should let me try it once?"

No. He's allowing her to touch him without consequence at this moment, she should be proud of the fact that she's still breathing.

"..."

Sighing dramatically she moved back towards her desk to look through the parts Dae-Hyun had gotten her. There was really so much. Some of it did look like it belonged to him at one point, but they were mangled and twisted in a way that even with welding tools it would be nearly impossible to have it be the way it once was.

"I should thank him but sometimes...hey can I tell you something?"

Wasn't like he could stop her, so she kept going.

Plopping down on her chair, she moved it closer to him, her feet making mismatched sounds from tapping on the floor. "I know he's looking out for me, but to be honest, I'm not even mad at him. I know there are places where some radical omnics are rising up again, but even so, why does that mean I have to be hostile to every one I come across. What happened to you was terrible, and even though it's not my place, I'm sorry for what they did."

Stupid, stupid child. He doesn't need or want an apology from her. This happened because he made a mistake and underestimated the humans who he had come across. But he doesn't want an apology from them either. What he wants is their complete surrender. If he had to kill them to have it, he would do so. No mercy until justice was served. One way or another he would have it.

Her though? Now that was a question Ramattra couldn't answer at the moment. And it was one he hoped he wouldn't have to anytime soon.

[alexiela73]

So twice, within a short time, I had a dream where Reaper was chasing me and trying to find me and I was scared until the second one where he was protecting me from people from my past who were toxic and abusive influences in my life. Since then, he became my comfort character and I sleep with the plush Funko toy every night.

Idk what you would want to do with it, but I could use a little more of that scenario in my life with two of my best friends deciding they wanted to cut me out of their lives due to reasons I don't feel like getting into here. Maybe like a self-appointed guardian angel or something?

Reaper(guardian angel????)

You've only met this man three times in your life, and while history remembers him, sometimes you couldn't help but wonder if he was a figment of your imagination.

Three times, this man has saved you. Three times, in different parts of your life, has he been at the right place at the right time...and three times, this man has changed your life.

Gabriel Reyes of Blackwatch saved you when you were a little girl during the omnic crisis. Windows were shattered, doors blown to pieces, cars on fire in the streets. There was so much destruction, and at the tender age of seven, even you believed it was the end.

When omnics had started to seize your building, it was Gabriel Reyes who blew apart those that nearly killed your father. Hidden there in the closet, you could see out the crack as your father had kneeled there shaking, hands up as omnics had surrounded him...and suddenly...it was safe. The sounds of the bullets at this point were merely background noise to your little mind, as you struggled to make sense of that day, that moment.

But you would never forget his face, as he helped your father get to his feet. As your father opened the closet, picked you up and the two of you were escorted to a hovercraft evacuating the area.

The second time you saw him was in your late teens- you were working as a part time waitress for one of a diner down in the lower quarter of the city. Crime those days were non-stop, and safety procedures for small businesses like this were non-existant.

A pursuit down the road had led to a couple of low-life thugs using your diner to hide- and you as a hostage. This job had merely been meant to help you save towards college, and the idea of dying in that mustard yellow uniform was sickening.

Even as they stood before the counter, gun pointed at you...they didn’t notice the wisps of black smoke that slipped through the cracks in the door. The swirl of darkness behind them as a black cloaked figure became solid, red eyes glinting through a skull mask..

“Duck,” he rasped behind them, before the black mist around him exploded. You don’t know why, but your body obeyed and you felt yourself drop to the floor.

The bullets that flew through the air, filling holes in the bodies of the men who’d held you up at gunpoint...you saw the blood splatter, the bodies hit the floor and you kept your arms over your head. Minutes passed, before you realized the sound of the bullets whizzing by had stopped.

When you lifted your head to look over the counter of the ruined diner, you saw the figure walking out. He seemed to stop in the doorway and look over his shoulder briefly. “You’ve shit luck, kid,” he growled, before seeming to just...melt away, the smoke trailing off.

It was only later, after you’d had time to sit down and drink coffee after talking to the police that you thought for the first time in years of the omnic crisis, and the man who’d saved you. You convinced yourself that maybe they were the same, even though Gabriel Reyes had been known to be dead for a long time. 

No one believed your theories, and said it’d all been coincidence. That the men had likely owed Talon money, and that the dreaded Reaper had just managed to track him there. That perhaps he’d thought a lowly waitress wasn’t worth the bullet.

The last time you saw him...was last night. 

You were now in your early twenties, living life on your own. You hadn’t thought of him much since, and yet... 

You remember the feeling of fear that filled you last night as you’d realized you were being followed home. The way you’d fumbled with your keys, quietly whispering please under your breath over and over. The man that had come up behind you, faceless beneath his hood, taking advantage of the night and its cover.

“Don’t touch me!” you had screamed, as he’d turned you around, squeezing your eyes closed. “Help me, somebody!”

You don’t remember hearing anything except the disgusting noise of the man breathing heavily on you. No footsteps, no approach. The street had otherwise been empty, you thought.

Yet you had gasped, as the weight of the man pressing you into the wall lifted- your eyes opened in time to see him violently thrown into the street by a hooded man.

“I get sick,” you heard faintly, the disgust apparent in his voice, “of men like you. The next time you lay your hand on anyone, I will rip out your eyes and shove them down your throat. Then you can see what its like to have your guts blown to pieces,” he snarled.

There was bloody claw marks on the man who’d tried to assault you- so much blood. Even he was so terrified that he couldn’t make a noise, and he simply made a mad dash down the street in the hopes of safety.

Holding your hand to your throat, you slowly straightened from the wall, trying to catch your breath. “You...you saved me,” you said slowly. “Again...”

The man turned, red eyes watching you. Despite who you knew him to be, you felt...safe. “Like I said, kid. You’ve some shit luck,” he growled. “I suggest carrying some goddamn pepper spray next time.” 

You opened your mouth to reply, but he had started to walk away already. Taking a few steps after him, you’d blurted. “Thank you...thank you.” What else could convey the gratitude you felt for someone who’d saved you so many times in your short life?

Snorting, he looked back.

“Don’t mention it.”

Looking back on it now, you wondered if perhaps...he was your guardian angel. The thought comforted you, so early in the morning as you tried to sleep, hoping someday you’d see him again.

[howhow326]

Mycelia: the glow up

Old hand drawn artwork

I was finally able to do my girl justice after the adobe fresco fiasco.

Real Name: Moesha Jones

Age: 24 (overwatch 1)

Occupation: Mycologist, First responder, Oasis ambassador, secret Talon agent

Base of Operations: Baltimore, U.S.

Affiliation: Herself first and foremost, Talon, Oasis ministers

"If I can help you, I will help you!"

The fallout of the Omnic Crisis caused the problems effecting slum-like areas across the whole world to become worse, something that Moesha Jones knows too well. Her hometown was so lacking in resources that her family was reduced to eating moldy food in order to survive. But she wasn't discouraged. She was gifted with intelligence so extreme that she completed primary school with a 4.0 grade point average. She also grew a specialised colony of edible mushrooms that could be grown in some of the most extreme conditions, perfect for feeding her community. Even the scientists of Oasis took an interest in her...

When it was decided Moesha would attend the university at Oasis, she was also given a scholarship that covered her expenses in full. She was also given a mentor, Moira O'Dearian. With the help of her teacher, Moesha created a helmet known as the Neuro-spore generator, which gave the wearer complete control over the fungi produced from it's spores. Dubbed Mycelia by O'Dearian, she recreated her home community with into a glowing green paradise, covered in fairy rings as far as the eye can see. Now, she travels to other desolate communities and recreates them like she did her home, so that no child will go hungry again. But there was a price, Mycelia must complete secret missions for Talon whenever Moira requests it of her... or else, the people Mycelia tried so hard to save will become Talon's next target.

[tlacehualli]

Meta + physical pain

Meta + emotional/mental pain

physical pain

Sombra can take it on the chin pretty well. She was a street kid for a long time, and then she was in a gang for the rest of her teen years, and then she joined Talon. She's taken a lot of punches, especially when she was younger and hadn't quite gotten to the point of technological savvy to be able to avoid physical altercations altogether. Her defiance is something unusual in the grand scheme of things. She can't really throw a punch to save her life, but she will take one and tell you that you hit like her sister.

That being said, she absolutely hates physical pain. Even if she can take it, she would rather just not experience any discomfort at all. If she doesn't have to, if her own life or the life of someone she cares about isn't on the line, she will do her utmost to avoid it. Other than the ache that comes with her running (she does do a lot of running, since getting way from people requires it and getting shot or punched or whatever hurts a lot worse for a lot longer), of course. A necessary evil.

Does someone need her help lifting something? Absolutely the fuck not (unless it would be absolutely impossible but rare is the case where her little noodly IT expert arms are that useful). Does she have to go into a dangerous area where her safety by virtue of invisibility and translocation isn't guaranteed? Then, no. Unless there is a lot of money on the line. When she's come down with some sort of sickness that causes discomfort or body pains, she's an absolute terror and will make her misery everyone else's problem,even if it isn't a big deal. The type of person to lay on the couch like they're on their deathbed and making miserable whining noises even though it is the mildest of allergic reactions.

Other than just not enjoying physical discomfort, there is a reason for that, though. She's never loved it but after joining Talon and getting to know exactly what kind of person Moira is, Sombra's developed something of a neurosis about having to be in her care. Frankly, Moira is terrifying - what she's done to Widow, to Reaper, that could possibly be done to her without her consent is something that has caused more than a few nightmares. Avoiding physical damage that she can't take care of herself is high priority. The more something hurts, the more the likelihood of her ending up in Moira's 'care' increases.

It's not like she can just go to any old hospital, being wanted by the law and having very distinct bodily modifications, after all.

emotional pain

Whoever said that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger lied.

It's just been a lot. She was orphaned at a very young age and that was awful. Not unusual in the grand scheme of things, especially in Mexico with La Medianoche, but the Omnic Crisis caused a lot of pain and death and loneliness all over the world. It's a particular agony that a lot of people share, and it's something she still carries with her - even though she's much older now, and she's grown around it and made connections with people since. There's just no replacing that, really. You build on top of it.

The events leading up to her leaving Los Muertos and having to isolate herself from her community are another old wound she continues to carry. After all, it's the fact that she discovered The Conspiracy - and worse, that it discovered her - that caused such an abrupt shift in what her path in life was supposed to be after she'd come to build something for herself in her youth. Not only was the rest of her family dead, but now she had to die too, after a fashion. Her identity, the last real connection she had with them, where they were from. It isn't really gone, she still is that person - she just can't acknowledge it in any public way. She's been on the run for over a decade and being isolated from your own history, your own culture, like that - it remains painful.

Moira's betrayal came about half a decade after that, and like everything else, it weighs on her. Moira was someone she really looked up to at first when she'd joined Talon. Another woman, and intelligent, and seemingly willing to engage with her, to push her. To find out that she was just being used in the end honestly broke something in her - especially with the cruelty with which she went about it. It wasn't difficult for Moira to ascertain how sick Sombra felt for her part in Widow's creation. The guilt's been eating away at her for years and part of her wonders if that was the point maybe. Being with Talon isn't exactly ideal for her, the resources are nice and she'd been desperate to keep away from The Conspiracy, but she could be elsewhere. Maybe. Other than the fact that her guilt ties her to them. She just can't imagine leaving the Widow there alone without her.

It's tough getting a therapist when you're wanted by multiple governments; kind of comes part and parcel with being a terrorist. Inspiring terror and all that. Her crimes don't really include murder but she's caused enough financial damage, spread enough secrets, dug up too much sensitive information, for it to be really feasible for her to just go tell someone everything. So her coping mechanism is kind of shit - she'll just get drunk once in a while and explode emotionally and then she's fine again. For a while. It's better now than when she was younger though - she'd been something of a pharmacy.

[chronal-anomaly]

gimme a song that has the vibes of lenas youth! not like childhood but teenage to young adult years, ukno?

This is like my favorite timeframe I'm -

Faster Cars | Loving Caliber:

Try not to hold me down Feel alive when I'm in this town Look at those beautiful stars I wanna drive a faster car Nothing can break me No no, nothing can break me

Try not to hold me down Feel alive when I'm in this town Look at those beautiful stars I wanna take a trip to Mars Nothing can break me, no, no Nothing can break me

Look at those beautiful stars I wanna drive a faster car

Lay my troubles to rest Blow the smoke through my cigarette City lights looking fine And I know that this is my time now

Lena as a teen, somewhere between 12-16, grew up getting into all sorts of trouble. A bored teen, in a post-omnic war area, and an absent parent, left her free to do whatever she pleased, for the most part. There were weeks where it was just her, her friends, and the cigarette/weed smoke curling up to the stars as they lounged on whatever roof they settled on that night. These were the nights that she was infected with that lofty idea, that she could go straight to the heavens and beyond, that she could holds the stars in her arms. Lena would clutch onto the sky as the way out, the freedom she so craved. The fast bikes and loud music would only settle the thing that beat its wings in her chest for so long before it, and her, grew restless again. This song really encapsulates a lot of that rush, that feeling of belonging while still craving just a bit beyond what she actually had these days.

Born To Run | American Authors

I'm born to run, down rocky cliffs Give me grace, bury my sins Shattered glass and black holes Can't hold me back from where I need to go Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

Yellow hills and valleys deep I watch them move under my feet Stranger things have come and gone To see the world, and take the throne Don't hold back Oh, I won't hold back

I'm gonna live my life, like I'm gonna die young Like it's never enough, like I'm born to run I'm gonna spend my time, like tomorrow won't come Do whatever I want, like I'm born to run

I wanna see Paris (hey), I wanna see Tokyo I wanna be careless (hey) even if I break my bones I'm gonna live my life, like I'm gonna die young Like it's never enough, like I'm born to run

This song is fantastic for that transitional point at around 16/17 where Lena began to realize that she was playing a game of attrition. She hadn't figured out where, or how, or what, she wanted to do with her life. Things were stagnated, her friends were starting to move on or be dismantled. They were all moving on, and Lena felt the walls of failure closing in on her. But rather than do something like settle, and cage that thing in her chest that beats, she decided to run.

Given the demolition of soldiers during the crisis and lacking population, the militaries were recruiting heavily. They promised her the world, the skies and the seas and everything in between, if she signed her life over to them. Desperate to get out, Lena agreed, and she was funneled into the RAF academy to train to become a corporal. She finally got her wish, to see the world and to get out of London, but now sat in the walls of concrete and steel to while her days away - that is, of course, until they realized her gift for flight.

[freedomsbounty]

Zarya was born in a remote village in Siberia which was a casualty of the Omnic Crisis. While Russian forces were able to stop it, the damage was already done. A young Aleksandra Zaryanova could recall some of the tale ends of it all. Her father was a casualty in the war as were many of who she called friends. The screams, the scent of blood and gunsmoke, and the echo of gunfire fights would forever be etched into the back of her mind and into her DNA.

The loss of her father spurred her to work ten times harder to better herself for the people around her. Her siblings deserved her to be their strength and their shield as she was the eldest of six children. The determination bled into her work and soon she shifted focus to bodybuilding to make herself strong and formidable for herself and for the protection of what remained of her family.

She joined the Russian Defense Forces the moment trouble started up again without hesitation. Zarya understood sacrifice and did not mind putting her career aside in order to defend people who needed help. Her father instilled a strong sense of family into her from a young age after all. It was with that determination that Cassidy witnessed the true character of Aleksandra in action when she faced deadly Omnics to buy time for her family and for others in the village to get to safety.

Her family has since continued to live in the area refusing to give up the fight in their own ways. Things have since quieted down tremendously and Zarya will take time to head home to see Ira, Marisha, Dmitri, Alexei, and Katya. When she visits, they always call her Sasha and Zarya will often bring home little gifts for her nieces and nephews all around.

[bluesunsdusk]

--// Time for angry jerboa bot metas or whatever they're called.

While Setesh's faction is noted in the bio to be the resistance, this doesn't mean it is THE resistance of Operation White Dome, it just means they're affiliated with at least one of the many groups of underground omnics out there. So, maybe omnic underground would be a more suitable name.

They generally stick to the continents of Europe and Asia, but might be in North Africa at times. The locations they travel between differ wildly in how omnics are treated. They are less likely to try and conceal their unit model in places where omnics are generally treated better. Mainly, because they wouldn't be a wanted criminal (anymore...and yet) in several of those areas, but anyway...

They have never been to Numbani. They're skeptical of the peace and unity people say it has and really rather not find out whether or not it's true, because either outcome will have...results. They may go to other places on occasion, mainly to aid other omnics.

Maximilien uses Set as an escort for his weapons trades and for the occasional intimidation or elimination of rivals. Set dislikes him and how he sometimes goes into subtle prying lines of questioning.

Set still believes their omnium only acted in self defense after being deactivated by humans. Why yes I do hate the Anubis plot reveal in Ramattra's short story because it reduces the omnic crisis to mindless evil robot war. I will continue to ignore it by having Set be a conspiracy theorist who thinks the omniums are intelligent enough to register a threat and build defenses to protect themselves. Set will continue to regard their omnium as some sort of mother figure and trying to kill their mother is not okay.

After having collected the remains of several units Null Sector deployed in the London uprising, the underground now has several repurposed former Null Sector units in its ranks. The few that aren't dormant protect the units in the abandoned subway systems.

The first sets of Null Sector units the few members of the underground involved in the project successfully reactivated and changed the directives of after Set realized the units were not yet "awoken" were Slicers, because of their slightly less robust programming.

After encountering a Nulltrooper unit who was butchered and slapped back together by a local, they realized the units could be salvaged as more than mindless constructs and they went to work trying to figure it out. Some were more successful than others.

For now, those who haven't reached that same stage as other omnics have in their sentience are kept around anyway, with the only alteration being that they won't march into the streets to continue the omnic crisis when active. Most of those are kept dormant and only activate when there is a threat.

Not all omnics in the underground are as comfortable with them as others, but the patchwork Nulltrooper keeps an eye on them.

Set and that Nulltrooper have a very odd relationship. They don't always agree on everything. Null detests the thought of any unit not having free will and being used as a tool. Set sees it as an occasional necessity to use an unawaken unit for its intended purpose.

The Nulltrooper also hates Ramattra. It doesn't understand why Set would still look up to him after learning what he did. It also makes jabs at Set from time to time, but seeing as Set had a hand in repairing it and Set clearly cares deeply for the omnics down there, it's generally alright with them and would fight someone to protect them. They have fought side-by-side and both employ a hit and run tactic after Null was equipped with boosters that let it navigate like the guy in Vanquish. We gave a hero that ability before Sojourn went live. Jot that down.

One of the omnics developed a course called "Hello world!" It is intended to teach newly awakened units about the world, how to navigate society and developing their individuality.

EVE, another ally, stays with the London units and was with them when Mondatta was assassinated. Null stayed underground.

Set, Null and EVE are both in agreement regarding the difference in treatment less humanoid units get even in the more tolerant areas and would like there to be more awareness regarding this expressed from the omnic community.

There is a makeshift plaque in one of the areas of the London underground the omnics reside in listing names and/or designations of units that have passed away.

Set participated and spoken in several protests through their life, many of which turned violent. They never preached peace. Set does not believe they will achieve equity without violence. They acknowledge omnics must be careful because they have limited numbers that they cannot replenish, but having to demurely ask for common decency or preach peace and rely on the empathy of humans to finally catch up with the times is ridiculous.

Despite being a rather recognizable unit model, they have made no effort to change what they are to be less conspicuous and avoid law enforcement, regardless of the multiple offers they have been given from other omnics for a remodel.

Set will never allow someone to convince them or anyone to make their appearance more human-like either. They love what they are. ))

[solivar]

Excerpts From 'Into the Red Zone: A Guide To the Weird by Paranormal New Mexico'

The Standing Stones of Santa Ana Pueblo

The Standing Stones of Santa Ana Pueblo

Location: Just above the Red Line off I-25 N/Old New Mexico Route 68 N, Sandoval County north of the Albuquerque Military Exclusion Area.

Before the Crisis, Santa Ana Pueblo was a thriving Tamayame reservation, part of the Greater Albuquerque Metropolitan area, and a major tourist draw in the region owing to its world-class golf courses and club, a well-regarded spa resort, a casino and Michelin-starred restaurant, and a multitude of easily accessible cultural sites and events spread throughout the year. All of that changed on the afternoon of August 13, 2046 when Omnic forces advancing on Albuquerque breached the containment cordon along Route 40 and the US military, massed there to stop them, unleashed experimental high energy weaponry designed for that task.

Once the dust settled, the city of Albuquerque and much of the surrounding area, including the Sandia and Santa Ana Pueblos, was almost completely leveled. In the aftermath, the military cordoned off the ruins of the city inside the Albuquerque Military Exclusion Area, which remains under heavily patrolled Federal military control to this day. Evacuees from the surrounding area were strongly encouraged not to return, with offers to purchase their land at pre-Crisis market value to sweeten the deal. Many accepted, a handful did not, and those that chose to do so returned to a pueblo whose buildings were reduced to rubble and scattered with wreckage -- and something weird that was neither.

The Standing Stones of Santa Ana Pueblo occupy a relatively compact chunk of land on the grounds of what was once Santa Ana Golf Club, shielded from casual view by a stand of cottonwood trees that somehow survived the explosions that leveled the clubhouse and most of the other course structures and did significant damage to the surrounding area. There are nine of them, standing in a geometrically perfect circle, varying in size from from well over six feet to a little over five, perfectly hexagonal in shape, crafted of a dark stone that at least superficially resembles basalt. The inner surface of each stone is densely carved with petroglyphs incised deeply into the rock. The outer surface of each stone is carved with one petroglyph unique to that stone and which cannot be found on any of the others, inside or out. Local experts on Native American petroglyphs continue to research this topic but, as of this writing, none of the petroglyphs that appear on the Standing Stones resemble any glyphs that appear on historical sites in the region. 

Nor were the Standing Stones a feature of the area before the Omnic Crisis, as confirmed by surviving photos and video of the course and local residents of the area, including the former owners of the golf club. At some point after the evacuation of Santa Ana Pueblo, the Standing Stones appeared in their current location, unnoticed by anyone despite the heavy military presence and regular patrols of the area, and despite the amount of effort such a project would entail. The stones, though tall and relatively slender, are still estimated to weigh several hundred pounds each -- not something that could be loaded, unloaded, and placed by a single person working by hand alone.

The hundred or so families who make Santa Ana Pueblo their home give the Standing Stones a wide berth, citing weirdly colored lights that appear close to the ground around them and occasionally in the sky above, strange disembodied sounds, and a deep thrumming hum that periodically rises from the area. These phenomena have appeared on official reports from area law enforcement and also on official notices issued from the Albuquerque Exclusion Area’s patrol base. Perhaps coincidentally, perhaps not, most of these phenomena have been observed around the anniversary of the Battle of Albuquerque on August 13th. 

If you want to try to catch the weirdness in action, make certain you’re prepared to handle high desert summer weather and get your permissions in order accordingly. The former grounds of Santa Ana Golf Course are private property posted against trespass and the area is periodically patrolled by both the US military and tribal coalition police.

[acradelius]

Can you do Scenario number 8 with Roadhog?

"Touch Them And You're Dead"

Fandom: Overwatch / Overwatch 2

Scenario Requested: #8 - "Touch them and you're dead."

Pairing: Mako Rutledge ("Roadhog") x Reader

Rating: Lime [🟢] (Equivalent to PG/PG-13)

Warnings / Mention Ofs: Implied Militia! Roadhog, Implied Spouse! Reader, Post Omnic Crisis, Implied Violence, Implied Darker Intentions, Soft Angst, Soft Comfort, Nickname Usage

Word Count: 738 Words

Author's Note: Mako = DILF

“P-Please,” (Y/N) whimpers, sniffling slightly while proceeding to cautiously waddle throughout the charred, dismantled remains of their home, the home that the remember spending countless hours watching Mako building it board by board, “I-I’m not sure that there’s anything left worth taking, but I’m sure that there’s something.” They weren’t exactly sure what they were rummaging through the rubble for, but (Y/N) knew for sure that they anticipated that the Junkers that were currently surrounding them would find value in whatever item they could manage to pull from the rubble. Yet, between all the sniffling every couple of seconds, and the mumbled pleas for Mako to come home, it was quite difficult to focus on the task at hand. Along with the nerve wracking situation at hand, the repeating memories leading up to this very moment were beginning to cloud any situational awareness (Y/N) was attempting to keep hold of. 

It begins with the aftermath of the Omnic Crisis, government officials having gifted the Omnics not only the Australian Omnium but also the surrounding areas in anticipation that this action would establish a long-term peace accord. While the intention was well meant, the effects had become the opposite. These actions had caused a permanent displacement for the residents of the Outback, resulting in a violent rebellion to take place, along with the creation of the Australian Liberation Front. Mako had made the decision to join the liberation front, having spent most of his time afterwards on outings to take down the omnium and its robot population in hopes to take back the stolen land one day. Eventually these events continued to escalate until the front had decided to sabotage the omnium’s fusion core, changing the outback for the rest of the foreseeable future. 

Those actions had caused various consequences, the most major one being the situation that (Y/N) was finding themself within, being surrounded and essentially raided by Junkers. Junkers who thought that terrorizing individuals that were merely just trying to survive, finding amusement in their perturbed, intimidated expressions. Yet, with the Junkers decreasing the distance between themselves and (Y/N), (Y/N) knew that they must’ve had more vile intentions. Denying any offerings or trades that (Y/N) would attempt to offer them, shrugging off any mumbled threats that were thrown at them, laughing sinister at the way (Y/N) was visibly trembling from the dread of possibly what would be done to them. “Get away from me!” (Y/N) shrieks, their vision beginning to blur as tears begin to collect and spill down their cheeks, falling onto their behind after tripping on uprooted rubble. “Stay away from me!” 

Almost promptly did the Junker that was straying just a little bit too close for (Y/N)’s comfort had seemingly shrunk in size, leaving (Y/N) momentarily baffled and trying to process what exactly just happened, before briefly catching a glimpse of the metal hook wrapped around the Junker’s waist and coming to a realization. “M-Mako!” Now standing face-to-face with the Junker, despite his face being hidden by the custom-made mask with the “hogdrogen” inhalers, vexation was apparent in Mako’s features. Having Junkers making an appearance and deciding to terrorize (Y/N) all while he had been struggling to get back home after everything that they had gone through already, it was the last thing that they needed. 

It doesn’t take that much for Mako’s intimidation to strike fear into the Junkers, his enormous hand gripping tightly around their Leader’s neck, squeezing tightly all while hoisting them some feet up from the ground. “Touch them, and you’re dead.” Mako applies pressure, taking minor enjoyment in watching the Junker struggle, before letting them drop onto the ground and scurry away with the other Junkers. (Y/N) proceeds to take his attention away from the retreating Junkers by clutching tightly at whatever they could grab of his: his hands, his hand, cupping the sides of his mask. “M-Mako, you’re home! You’re here!” They begin to babble, babbling that begins to descend into sobs that they are now safe, and will continue to be safe as long as Mako is around. “Don’t worry, Little Pig,” Mako proceeds to console them, brushing their tears away with his thumbs, crouching down to their height, “Nobody, and I mean absolutely nobody, will lay a hand on my Little Pig as long as I’m here. I will keep you safe.”