#twitchy!overwatch

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

31 / 1.7k / soap soulmate au, part 8

...

Peering down into the building from the adjacent rooftop, Soap sees you--his soulmate--through his sniper's scope. You. Here. On the wrong goddamn team again.

He mutters a curse into his radio.

You’re standing guard at your client’s back—a man who coasts under the radar as far as his criminal reputation is concerned, but a smuggler effective and dangerous enough to put him on the CIA’s hitlist. He’s hidden from view. Probably been told to stay away from windows for the night. You're obviously working security, outfitted to the nines as you would be on any job, rifle in hands, scanning the foyer for threats. You're unaware of 141’s snipers setting up on the rooftops outside.

Soap’s eyes darken. He doesn’t deal with internal conflict when he’s working. When things get complicated, he uncomplicates them. Right now, there are three thoughts in his head: 

One--he misses you.

Two--you blew him off to work for this scum.

And three--he needs to get his feet on the ground right now. You'll be lucky if all you get is an earful once he gets his hands on you.

He switches on his radio. "Got eyes on the target. LT, you in position yet?"

"Affirmative. In position," Ghost says, his voice gravelly and cold over the radio from his position on a neighboring rooftop. "Waiting on the signal."

Soap stares you down through his scope. His leather gloves creak and tighten around the handle of his rifle. It pisses him off how easy it would be to take the shot. If he were anyone else, you would be dead in moments. 

On the other hand, he could kill your client--your protectee--here and now. To hell with the mission parameters. It would be easy.

He sighs, flipping on his radio again. "Permission to infiltrate, Captain? Spotted a friendly inside."

Gaz's voice crackles over the radio instead. "Friendly this time, is she?" His tone makes it clear he’s spotted you too.

"Don't be jealous, Garrick."

"Positively green with envy, mate," Gaz replies, dry and sarcastic. "Too bad she’s not friendlier. Be helpful if you could actually get her to talk this time. Not to mention the other stunt you pulled."

Soap smirks and adjusts his scope to keep you in his sights. "Don't know what you're talkin' about."

Gaz scoffs. "Plausible deniability is for paperwork."

"Aye. Maybe I’ll mention in my next report who tipped me off about her bein' our hostage, too."

There's a beat of static. "Got nothing to say about that."

Then Laswell's voice cuts in. "Kyle has a point. The building is locked down tight and it’s gonna be hard to get a clean shot. If she's with our target's security detail, that’s our ticket inside."

"And if she's not willing to help us out?" Price asks.

"Depends on how persuasive Soap is willing to be."

"I might've picked up a technique or two last time,” Soap says.

The radio crackles as Price takes in a deep breath and sighs it out through his nose. Somehow, he makes it sound stern.

"Intel is intel," Ghost says.

“Failing that, bribery’s always a solid bet for a merc,” Gaz adds. “If they don’t shoot you on sight.”

"Right, then," Price says. "Soap, regroup with Ghost. Prepare to infiltrate. Gaz and I will take overwatch. Ghost, keep on comms. We'll find you the main breaker switch. Soap, I need you to keep things quiet, you hear me? Mission objective is priority. Do not, under any circumstances, be seen."

Soap's blood is already pumping hot. He’s never loved overwatch. He’d rather be close to the action--get his feet on the ground. Get his hands on you. "Copy, Captain. Ghost, I'm aimin' for the north corner. Meet me in five."

…

You mill about at your post, feeling twitchy and unsatisfied. This job is, on first glance, the same as any. Your PMC hired you and a few other mercs out to act as bodyguards for a man with more money than morals, if the size and clientele of this gathering is anything to go by. 

You shift your weight, scanning the overdressed crowd for threats. You wouldn’t hate it if this party were cancelled early.

"Stand up straight," your teammate snaps. "You're working. Act like it."

You scowl, but say nothing.

"Don't make that face at me," he says, bite in his tone. Horangi. Like he’s so patient. He's on just as short a leash as you, and it's pissing him off just as much. The difference is he has the seniority to take it out on you. 

"I don't know how you do this without feeling like a caged animal," you mutter.

His eyes follow a woman in a tight red dress as she passes by. Obviously, he knows what he'd rather be doing.

"A cage with a paycheck," he replies. "Some things you learn to tolerate."

You scan the room again. Your protectee is still here. That's good. You're hoping he takes his sweet time before he goes downstairs to start the so-called afterparty. 

You glance at Horangi again. "You know where the cargo is? Downstairs?"

"Last I heard. I got the east wing of this floor," he says. If the idea of that cargo is bothering him, he hides it well. He’s a good merc and he does what he’s told, like it or not.

You were a good merc, too, up until three weeks ago. Worrying about what rich idiots get up to isn't what you should be doing. You're supposed to keep the client happy. It's not your fault he can’t party without doing illegal shit.

You heave a sigh. "I'm going to check on it."

Horangi’s eyes narrow, flicking to you. "No, you’re not. Stay put."

"Fine. I'm going to the bathroom, then."

"Fine," Horangi snaps. "Go to the bathroom, and make sure you come right back. And don’t talk to anybody."

You walk away, rifle in hand, making your way into the back hall. You pass into the dim sconce light and swear you see something through the enormous glass windows as you walk by them. But there’s nothing there.

The lights flicker once. A beat. Just long enough for you to notice before they even out again. 

You pause at a flicker of movement near the side door up ahead. You have a split second to wonder why there’d be nobody securing the side door before the lights go out.

When you turn and head back for the foyer, you stop short. Down the hall, where you just came from, looms a familiar shape. The white skull on his mask pops out of the shadows. 

You don't make it back to the foyer.

Before you have a chance to react, your body armor is yanked hard from the back. You're pulled backward into an adjacent room and shoved hard against the wall. You expect the bite of steel against your neck or your temple, but it never comes. 

“Quiet, now."

You register Soap's familiar accent before your eyes adjust to the dark. "Johnny?"

"That’s right," he says. He's still got that way of speaking that's almost a purr when he's being quiet.

It suddenly feels like a long time since you’ve felt the heat of his body, pinned tight between him and the wall the way you are. He’s coiled tight, all lithe muscle and restrained strength. His eyes glitter with that wild, predatory look. It’s decidedly dangerous and tantalizing.

"I missed you, darlin'. You're gonna make this simple, aye? I know you can," he says.

You swallow the immediate urge to comply. Holy hell, you forgot what that feels like. "You need to stop greeting me like this," you hiss.

"I'd love nothin' more than to greet you in a different way, but you've got to start makin'  smarter decisions first." He leans all the way in and presses his nose into the crook between your neck and shoulder, nuzzling you in his full tactical gear. 

You muffle a sigh. He makes a quiet, content sound. 

"Besides, I kinda like this way of greetin’ ya. You make this little noise."

The radio on his neck echoes to life. You hear a tinny voice come through, saying something about an objective.

His eyes shut tight as he listens, one hand pressed firmly against the wall beside you. He doesn't back away yet. He's been dreaming of this for too long--laying his head on you and letting the sound of your heartbeat drown out everything else. It just can't fucking happen yet.

You feel, rather than hear, his low, annoyed grumble as he replies. "No, I copy. Just keep your bloody heads on."

You concentrate, trying to make out the voices of his teammates. It sounds like Ghost's voice.

Soap groans, his fingers flexing and gloves squeaking against the wallpaper. “I’ll be there in a minute, LT.”

You shift slightly. "Why are you here?"

A muscle twitches in Soap's jaw, and he pulls back so he can look you in the eye. "Should be askin' you the same thing. You’re on guard detail for a bloody criminal."

"It's a complicated situation."

"Then uncomplicate it."

You open your mouth to reply, but Soap's radio crackles back to life. This time, you can make out the words.

"Target located." Ghost's voice.

"Attaboy." Price. "Get him isolated. Third floor, east windows."

“Won’t be that easy,” Ghost replies. “He’s surrounded by civilians. Security’s thick.”

You tense even as Soap begins to relax. You fist your hand in the collar of his tactical vest, trying not to sound frantic. "Do not kill him. Johnny, listen to me."

Soap's expression turns grim, and he looks down at your fingers. Then he reaches up to cover your hand with his. "I know he's your client, but there's a reason we're here. He smuggles weapons. Big weapons, and not to anyone friendly. Just take it easy and let us clean up."

"No, listen," you snap, pulling him a millimeter closer. "He has the cargo here. It's not weapons. It's people."

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / [part 8] / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12

more Soap / masterlist tag

[pfhwrittes]

prompt: gaz and ghost on overwatch, watching soap talk to their contact on the ground, and roasting him alive on comms. just stepping on his neck nonstop. soap can hear them but can't react because the contact spooks easy -391780

@391780 i LOVED this prompt. nothing makes me happier than Ghost and Gaz banter (there's so much of it in the drafts for misery and festivals). hopefully this little blurb satisfies the prompt!

-- “Permission to speak freely, sir?” 

Soap’s earpiece crackles as Gaz opens the comms, distracting him for a second from the twitchy man in front of him. 

“Go ahead, sergeant.” Ghost rumbles.

“You ever realise that Soap stands with his hip cocked?” Soap can hear the shit eating grin in Gaz’s voice. The sleekit wee bastard. 

“Hm. Looks like a teapot.”

“A teapot, sir?”

“Like the nursery rhyme.” 

The comm crackles again as it cuts off Garrick’s stifled chuckle. 

Soap shifts his stance, subtly redistributing his weight to rest evenly and bringing his hands up to loop his thumbs into the shoulder straps of his vest. There, now he can’t be called a fuckin’ teapot. The informant flicks his eyes over Soap warily. 

The comm clicks on again.

“Think he heard us, sergeant?” Ghost asks, amusement lacing his tone.

“Can’t be sure sir, it appears Cap has taken Soap’s place temporarily.” Gaz’s voice wobbles with repressed laughter. 

“Can’t see it myself, Garrick.”

“Why’s that, sir?” 

“Doubt Price would dare show ‘is face if he had a mop like that on his head.” Ghost deadpans. Soap feels his eye twitch as Gaz chokes back another burst of laughter. Cheeky fuckin’ cunts. 

“Looks -” Gaz cuts off the comm before flicking it back on, “looks like he lost a fight with a pair of clippers -” the comm cuts off again and Soap swears he can hear Gaz wheezing somewhere above him. 

Soap moves one of his hands to scratch at the back of his helmet with his middle finger, aware of the way the informant tracks his movements. If those pair of wallopers blow this op, Soap swears to himself that he’ll dye every single one of Ghost’s balaclavas pink and sew a Saltire on the front of Gaz’s cap in place of the Union Jack. 

Abruptly the tone on the comms change. 

“Garrick.” Ghost snaps, the teasing lilt to the banter is gone and in its place is the hard tone Soap’s heard before when things are about to get dicey. 

“I see ‘em.” 

“Keep them in your sights, I don’t like the look of -” whatever Ghost doesn’t like the look of gets cut off as an explosion sends a shockwave of sound and dust over Soap, forcing him to cover his head from flying debris. 

- 

Much later when the three of them are getting chewed out by Price for “missing a whole fucking truckload of insurgents because you three were too busy dicking around on the bloody comms” Soap decides that his little sewing project isn’t nearly enough in the way of payback.

[txttletale]

i'll actually in a limited capacity defend the overwatch league's regional teams gimmick but the execution was bad. having regional teams could have been hype. like--during astralis' 2018-2019 csgo run, danish esports fans went fucking insane for them. and like of course they did. there's inherently something exciting about having a team you can in some way 'identify' with. and geography does create natural sports rivalries and pre-writes your stories.

there were two glaring bad problems in the dumb way blizzard did this though. one is forcing teams to come up with brand new branding. this was a horrible idea. it forced well-established esports organizations with strong fanbases across different games like cloud9 and optic to try and build new brands up from scratch. they realized this with their call of duty leage where they let teams play as 'atlanta faze' and 'optic texas' but yknow. kind of too little too late

the other one (and this is also the glaring fatal flaw in the overwatch league's entire silly, silly business plan) is the idea of a global league. now if you don't know much about esports you might think 'wait whats wrong with that. its gaming you can do it online players can be anywhere'. however that's not true! first of all, esports--well esports doesn't make money, esports when managed correctly is essentially a loss leader for the game it's an esport for--but esports makes a lot of its money on live events. yeah, people go to see esports games:

much more importantly, ping is a huge factor in esports. the higher the level you're playing at, especially in a game like overwatch that's full of twitchy hitscan aiming, the more a 10ms latency difference can make or break a game. you need to be running in-person events in order to have a competitive esports league and to make a good chunk of your revenue.

and that means that a global esports league runs into the exact same problem a global normal sports league would run into and the reason why that doesn't exist, which is travel logistics. the overwatch league has a london team, a san francisco team, and a chengdu team. these cities are very far away from each other [citation needed] and although overwatch league people will often blame covid for ruining their plans, i honestly think it actually saved them by preventing the horrible idea they had for how the league would work from actually happening. imagine all the problems that travel causes in a league like the NBA--jet lag, exhaustion, the obvious budgetary expenditure. now imagine that the travel itinerary also includes flights across the atlantic and/or pacific.

that's not even all! the thing about esports is that, because practicing for ten hours a day doesn't physically destroy your body like it would for regular sports, esports players and teams... do that. if you spend seventeen hours on a plane from paris to hangzhou for a match that's seventeen hours where you're not practicing. when you arrive, you can't just stay at a hotel--you need to be able to practice in the days leading up to the match too, especially because it's esports, which means the game can change. if you miss some practice as a sports team, you're gonna be rusty--if you miss some practice as an esports team, the rules of the game might have literally changed since your last practice session.

the result of this, by the way, is that the london and paris teams have never been actually based in europe--and that right now the dallas team is based in korea. it is very silly. every other multinational esport ever invented has created regional leagues--league of legends has a league for korea, china, europe, north america, pacific, vietnam, brazil, japan, and latin america. but blizzard entertainment are god's special little gamers and they weren't going to let something like 'the ocean' get in the way of their global league dream.

and ultimately this means that the entire local team concept was pointless. most of the teams aren't locally based. and even if they were -- the madcap way they play against each other mean that those city affiliations don't matter. when manchester united play liverpool f.c., even if you are not a big football fan, if you're from manchester you presumably have an opinion of liverpool and liverpudlians, and vice versa. there is an emotional hook to latch on to. if manchester united were to play khon khaen united, you would probably say 'where the fuck is khon khaen'. for the localisation to work, the overwatch league's london team needed a manchester or glasgow or dublin or amsterdam or brussels team (etc.) to play against. if you're invested in the esport itself and the players, you can get invested in a philadelphia-london or chengdu-houston rivalry--but the localisation aspect of it isn't doing the work it should there.

tldr: the overwatch league was a bad idea ever since the moment it was announced. people are too harsh on the team localization idea but the way it was executed was hot garbage and it's no wonder this entire venture failed badly

[kaisfruit]

junkrat x lucio wholesome hcs PLEEAASEEE PLEASE PLEASE 🙏🙏🙏

Boombox (Junkrat x Lucio) Wholesome HCs

A/N: IK THIS SAYS ANON BUT THIS IS MY BFF YALL THX U FOR REQUESTING POOKIE ILY <333 also this just kinda turned into boombox hcs in general im srry qwq warnings: junkrat is his own warning that's it

I'm just in love with them. I need to get over that first before I type ANYTHING

anyways-

Lucio staying up with Junkrat when Jamison is really into whatever he's working on at the moment

To be honest, seeing Lucio get tired makes him feel a bit bad and it ends with them both going to bed bc it's okay if Jamie is sleep deprived but it can't be his fault that Lucio is as well. That won't do at all!

And i see a lot of ppl being like "Lucio helps calm Jamie down <3"

BFFR

Lucio is an enabler.

Junkrat: BABE! WANNA SEE HOW MANY BOMBS IT TAKES FOR ME TO PASS OUT FROM SMOKE INHALATION? <3

Lucio: Hell yeah. Lemme get my phone

No one else is allowed to find the video funny tho

That's right. Lucio def notices how everyone in OW treats Jamie (idc im projecting here. WHY IS EVERYONE SO MEAN TO HIM IDC IF HE'S A CRIMINAL HE'S FUNNY)

DVa can maybe find it a bit funny, but that's cuz she gets BFF privileges

Lucio constantly hitting Junkrat with the "hold on, this song reminds me of you-"

Eventually he just makes a whole playlist

Junkrat has it blasting constantly in his workshop

That or he has every song by Lucio on shuffle

Now, Jamison's,,,talent,,, is a bit harder to show affection with

It took Lucio a long time to really grasp Jamie's love language, but now he knows that 99% of the time that Junk's bombs towards him are romantic

The other 1% are accidents and Lucio is the only person Junkrat apologizes to

He doesn't even do that for Roadhog, so this is a very rare honor

Junkrat is so on board with Lucio being a freedom fighter

"HELL YEAH! fuck the government! down with the enforcer! BLOW THEM UP!"

The enthusiasm is much appreciated, but Lucio does have to explain in detail what he's really fighting for

Junkrat's chaotic nature is just on board with anything

And, despite being the resident yapper of overwatch, he really does like listening to lucio telling him abt things he wasn't aware of while being in Australia

Lucio's telling him so ofc it has GOT to be important, yk?

Sorry this is all just such word vomit. They're my two mains and I just....love them both sm i cant

They're just such a chaotic duo together

Like yeah, Lucio is a pretty chill guy but god does Jamison bring out the worst in him sometimes. They're perfect for eachother

On the rare occasion, Lucio can get Junkrat to settle down long enough for cuddles <3 ofc the lad is still a bit twitchy but it helps him realize that maybe this isn't so bad

Lucio shows Junkrat a kind of love Jamison has never seen before and Junkrat helps Lucio learn that it's okay to lose his cool sometimes

They just compliment each other so well

TL;DR Lucio and Junkrat are so good for each other I will throw hands over this

[leorawright]

Hi again! I was wondering if I could have Reinhardt, sigma, junkrat and the shimadas with a partner that loves everything horror (horror movies, horror games, analog horror)? Thank you! <3

I LOVE horror so definitely! (If you reblog tag your favorite horror movie/game mine's Little Nightmares 2)

Overwatch with s/o who loves horror

Reinhardt

He's always been indifferent to watching/reading horror

But since you like horror, he'll encourage your interests

He never really screams when watching horror movies, but he'll sometimes jump in his seat

Sigma

He's never had much experience with horror but since you like it he's willing to try it out

Believe it or not, he adores psychological horror and kinda relates to it a bit

But during horror movies that have monsters, he's practically clinging to your arm

He's got a bit of a high-pitched scream when he's surprised by a jump-scare

Junkrat

He sees how much you enjoy horror, so he agrees to watch horror movies with you or watch you okay horror games

He's got such a high-pitched scream its hilarious

He does not like psychological horror but give him a movie with monsters and he's much more comfortable

He copes with his fear through humor, so most of his time spent watching horror with you is used to make jokes

Hanzo

He's actually a fan of psychological horror

He finds it intriguing with how it connects to a person's mind to make them uncomfortable

But during monster movies, he jumps every single time there's a jump-scare but don't point it out or he gets embarrassed

Depending on the movie and when you two watched it he might have nightmares that night

Genji

He enjoys monster movies and slasher films because he enjoys making fun of the main characters stupid decisions

If he's going to watch a horror movie with you he'll grab several blankets, popcorn, and other snacks before settling on the couch in a bundle of fabric

If he's going to be, scared he's, at least going to be comfortable

Kiriko

She's never really watched much horror be she notices how much you love horror so she agrees to watch a movie/play a game with you

She's indifferent when it comes to which type of horror you two watch

Not really a screamer, but she might jump during a tension filled moment

She does get twitchy, though, during a really suspenseful moment

[ai-briefing]

Overwatch 2's new tank is too good, like game-breaking good

Overwatch 2's new tank is too good, like game-breaking good

Now that Overwatch 2’s been in our twitchy hands for a month, Blizzard is ready to show off a brand-new hero. A sentient robot armed with a bucket of badassitude. This towering omnic is Terminator meets monk and makes his presence known on and off the battlefield. With his booming voice and his menacing size, it will be hard to

[twitchesandstitches]

i had an overwatch thought: the action shown by the Crusader armor worn by Reinhardt’s forces looks VERY space marines, so it seems a simple idea to make the Crusader’s a Space Marine chapter (which, for this AU, is defined as a sub-set of a true Legion, with varying degrees of independence; for example, the Black Dragons act very independantly from the Salamanders as a whole, while the Black Templars and Crimson Fists are treated more as specialists in the Imperial Fist Legion as a whole).

so the question is, which chapter?

after some thought, I thought of one that may surprise you:

Reinhardt and his Crusaders are a World Eaters/War Hounds descended Chapter.

My reasoning is based on a few reasons; 1. I really love Loyalist descendants of Chaos Marine chapters, and there’s a fascinating irony to Reinhardt, champion of paragon honor, being a gene-son of Angron, who makes Grimlock and the Hulk look reasonable and calm. 2. Their tactics aren’t dissimilar in the least. And finally, 3. the World Eaters are implied to largely be of Germanic origin, and this fits Reinhardt BEING German very well.

[baronvontribble]

a follow-up to the last set of OWL doodles, this time focusing on what the current meta has done to star DPS players across the board. some haven’t actually been played at all this stage and it’s just. really sad, y’all. and the ones that try to play into the meta all just look deeply uncomfortable.

then a team like Chengdu rolls up with four DPS and a hamster or Dafran brings Torb into a control map and i can picture all these DPS players on other teams just looking on in distress like “why can’t WE do that” as they’re forced yet again into playing to this stupid dull meta that no one likes.

don’t worry boys. the meta will shift soon.

[arcenergy]

undefined

i almost forgot to post this gsdgdssf

[superfluouskeys]

overwatch why must you be so glitchy I just want to be with moira

[lostchasingsilver]

I just witnessed a Master Tracer body my entire team in Quick Play. Give me Mercy so I can at least not die to them. Now my desire to learn Tracer is high.

[trashabilly]

some doobles loosely based on @sneakyfeets fic crown of horns (id link but im on mobile) anyway it’s so good please read it, it's got dragon hanzo so you know it's gotta b good (my computer won’t turn on rn so it’s traditional art for now lads :-/ )

[spacediva]

i got potg as mei.  i feel so powerful!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[docholligay]

Character asks: Tracer and/or Winston - "Describe the way they sleep"

Anytime Winston gets to rest on something so much as resembling a bed, he considers himself lucky. The world, he constantly is forced to remember, is not made for him, and he exists in it only by the grace of others, and so he says little when he’s forced to curl up into a place too small, or sleep on the floor. He never really learned to get angry for his own sake. 

But when he’s in his own home--the first place he’s ever lived he can truly call that, and it’s some old warehouse in London that he’s painstakingly remodeled here and there since the fall of Overwatch 1.0, when he became determined to bring Tracer home to her city--he has his giant bed, heavy and deep and built just for him, and he can relax.  He’s a still sleeper, quiet and steady, almost always on his back. 

 It’s only been slowly over the years that he’s allowed himself to indulge more in his bedroom, that he’s convinced himself it was allowed to be more than adequate. It was easy to allow him other spaces in the house. THe living room was large, decorated, and with ample seating, because the size of it made it perfect for Oxton holidays and Overwatch meetings. The kitchen had to be well-outfitted for those gatherings, of course. The lab was important to all of his work, and so had to be done immediately. And Tracer’s little bedroom had been the first thing he’d done, her still deeply shaken from her second tear through time. All of that had een easy to do, but to take the time for himself was harder. 

Which made it all more delicious to buy himself a thick duvet to guard against the London chill, or the bamboo sheets that felt nice against his face. It was still a simple room--Winston considered himself a man of simple pleasures--but it finally felt like his, not just a place where he was staying, but a place where he belonged. 

Tracer

It had often been said of Tracer that she had no setting between high and off, and she didn’t see much fairness in her trying to argue with that. She would go from bouncing around in one moment, with as much energy as if she’d just woken from a fresh nap, to fast asleep. It had been this way since she was a little girl, as if someone had simply flipped her switch. 

Which is to say she’d never been a truly fussy sleeper. Left to her own devices, she liked her own setup, with the fluffy soft comforter puffed with down, the pile of pillows, the heavy weighted blanket over the top of it, and admittedly she slept more and harder given those options. But she didn’t necessarily need them. 

There was a comprehensive list of places Tracer had managed to fall asleep: A cave near the mission point, the floor of a bus winding through the Alps, uncomfortable military barracks, on the grass of a park in Germany. She slept in the crook of Winston’s arm more than once, more often due to his nervousness over something than anything else. Hospital rooms, she found, were often the hardest place to sleep, but the benefit of being in one was generally that drugs were provided. 

She’s twitchy even in her sleep, most times, which is where those who sleep with her most are occasionally deeply thankful for the weighted blanket pinning her down. She dreams vividly, frequently, and deeply, which mostly she enjoys, and can’t imagine those who don’t. There are times her mind turns its hard to dreams she’d rather not have, and it is only then that she regrets how real they feel. 

But even on the darkest night, she wakes up and there’s someone there for her, and that maybe is the greatest thing of all about sleeping, is she gets to wake up and remember that she’s a part of the world again. 

[littlekatleaf]

Buried in a burning flame is love and its decisive pain (end)

Holy shitballs. Pretty close to exactly a year ago I got this idea - Junkrat and Roadhog have Christmas with some of the Overwatch crew. It was gonna be short and sweet and fluffy. I started writing in... February? 10 months and 21K words later I ended up with something almost entirely different. Oops? Thanks for joining me on the ride!  Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9

Meds and tea and whiskey and food and mitten and probably a bit of fever still and the lingering feel of Roadie’s hand on his forehead all swirled together into an edgy excitement that made his blood fizz in his veins. Twitchy, itchy. Been looking forward to setting off the fireworks for months - been working them up that long and planning even longer. Had to get it all just right, then combine it with Lucio’s music, get the timing connected to the right shapes, the explosions to the right second… had to be focused, had to be precise and he loved the challenge. The sparks of thrill tingled along his spine and the fire they ignited burned away the lingering crud of sickness leaving him sharp and clear.

He enlisted Hana and Lucio to round up the others, betting they’d be able to convince anyone who was reluctant much better than he would. Even so, he was urging them down to the lake, torches bobbing through the dark, throwing odd shadows between the trees. Maybe talking a little faster than usual but how else was he going to impress upon them how exciting this was? 

“Know it’s cold - hadn’t really thought about that when I was planning. I mean, hadn’t planned to be here at all, just thought we’d be at the Watchpoint. Course, this is better, discounting the cold. Which is hard to do, but Roadie’s getting the bonfire goin’ - he could light a fire in the middle of a monsoon so no worries on that count. An’ Hana brought some whiskey to help so she’ll be right. Ya need to stand here, no closer. Gonna be over the water.  Safe as houses, but can’t be too careful - least according to Morrison, ha! Now turn off the torches. Better the darker it is. Lucky ain’t moonrise yet…” 

“What are we doing out here in the middle of the night when we could be curled up on the couch?” Mei asked no one in particular.

Junkrat ignored her. She’d see, they’d all see and he knew they’d love it just as much as he did if they gave it a chance. Lucio had been kind enough to not only have his sound system set up, but also brought out the box of fireworks so Junkrat didn’t have to lug it himself.

Didn’t take but a minute to set it all up, music on automatic once he started the program. All he had to do was hit the power and light the first fuse.

Music came up slow, soft, bit of piano, then edge of something electronic, rising bass and the first firework streaked up to the center of the sky and as the beat kicked in it exploded in a rain of silver and gold. At the crackling boom the others fell silent, faces tilted to the sky. The sparkles reflected in their eyes and Lucio’s soft ‘oh!’ and Hana’s squeal of delight made even the cold worthwhile. 

Let it start slow. Basic colors, red, blue, green, as well as the gold and silver. Usual shapes, circles, stars, ones that looked like fountains or willows. Then the music shifted, became rhythmic and complex with a minor edge and he sent the first special rockets. The streaks crisscrossed, intersecting like Satya’s hard light shield, like one of her knit shawls and around it burst snowflakes, all in shades of blue and silver. 

Music shifted again, bright and quick - and the second set of his own rockets split the air with a whistling crack then exploded in a crackling red heart, then a gold arrow streamed through. Lena bumped Emily’s hip with her own as their names twined through the heart. Another shift, one of Lucio’s songs, written for Hana and the rockets burst into pink bunnies and green frogs that seemed to bounce up the mountains ringing them and into the stars. 

As the music shifted a final time, setting a beat with a swing, Lena grabbed Emily’s hand and pulled her into a twirl, hands clenched firm but light, feet moving quick, spinning each other in and out and then they were dancing and so were Hana and Lucio and even Mei tugged Satya into the group. 

And then - perfect timing, as the music sang “Seeing’ stars, I’m seeing stars” the final bursts of fireworks - his favorite of the bunch - exploded overhead and Junkrat couldn’t stop his grin at the stars he’d created. Spread above him and Roadie was their night sky. The Saucepan and the Crux. Looking right, looking perfect, not upside down like here.

For a long moment Roadhog said nothing, just stood with his face tipped up, sparks reflecting in his mask as the fireworks cracked and popped and the music thumped and the others laughed and danced.

“Thought ya might like a bit of Straya,” Junkrat said finally, unable to wait for Roadhog to say something. Anything. Maybe he hadn’t recognized it after all. Or maybe it wasn't anything like he’d hoped. Maybe it only looked like home because he was remembering it so clearly. Imagining it. Making it all up again. He shoved his hand in his pocket as a gust of wind swept over them and a sneeze slammed into him, followed quickly by two more. “Huh-r’isssh! Isshh! Ishhew!” 

Didn’t even hear Roadhog move, but suddenly he was right there, shoving his hat down over Junkrat’s head and then wrapping his scarf around Junkrat’s neck. “Stay warm, idiot.”

“Trying,” he said, shivering still. He let Roadie lead him over to the fire which had grown to a roaring height, pouring out a welcome heat. Pine logs crackled and spat sparks swirling into the sky to swirl with the real stars and their backwards constellations.

Lucio cranked his own mix and the bass echoed off the mountains and Lena and Emily still danced with him and Hana. Mei and Satya huddled together, passing a mug of something between them and for a moment, just for a minute, everything felt fine. Felt good.

Junkrat glanced at Roadhog, and though the mask obscured his expression, there was a looseness in his shoulders, something in the tilt of his head that seemed to speak of relaxation and calm. Made the cold and exhaustion worth it. “Happy Christmas, Roadie.” 

“Happy Christmas, Rat.” The warmth in his tone did more to drive away the chill than the fire and Junkrat leaned against his side, letting himself enjoy the closeness. 

After a bit, the others joined them around the fire and Lena passed a joint around, “For everyone except you, Junkrat. Sorry.” 

He shrugged, pulled a flask out of his pocket. “Not gonna share my plague. Got this anyway.” The whiskey left a warm curl in the center of his belly, his muscles loose and easy. Satya told a story about a Snow Queen whose frozen heart melted with the love of a peasant girl, and though Junkrat wanted to roll his eyes, he understood the feeling. The desire to have one’s own story told in myth - to be connected to something bigger. Lena told a story about Father Christmas. Mei about a Chinese hunter, Jia Deng, who hunted with a pet wolf and left gifts of his hunt with the poor during the cruel months of winter. Then Roadie exhaled a long puff of smoke and said,

“Bet you never heard of the Holiday Boar.”

Junkrat giggled into his scarf. “Ain’t gonna tell that one to this lot, are ya?”

Lena cocked her head quizzically. “No, can’t say I have.”

“Well. Long before the Omnium exploded, before the Omnics were even an idea someone had, the Outback was still a hardscrabble place. Dusty and hot and many were desperately poor, trying to eke a living out of land that wasn’t easily giving. One day a wild boar appeared in a village, ribs showing through its skin, hair falling out in patches, it was the most pathetic excuse for a creature the villagers had seen. Most tried to chase it away with kicks and shouts and stones thrown. 

“At the edge of the village there was a farmer. He lived alone on the land. When the boar came to his homestead, the farmer’s first reaction was the same as the others - he wanted to chase it away. Nothing good could come of bringing another mouth to feed into his life. But as he raised a hand to throw a stone, he caught a glimpse of the creature’s eyes and his long dead daughter’s voice spoke in his heart. ‘Papa, please.’ His hand fell and he sighed and the boar stayed.

“In the beginning he found it annoying, an intrusion on his solitude. Still, he fed the creature, sharing the little he had, and in return it kept him company, following him like a dog and seeming to listen when he spoke. Come winter the boar was healthy and grown to a surprising size. Villagers who saw it walking with the farmer nodded knowingly - at the first cold snap he’d likely kill it, and the meat could feed them all.

“But the cold came and still the boar walked with the farmer. The villagers eyed them more than a little oddly. Finally, on the longest night of the year, the farmer was sitting by a fire with the boar at his side as usual. The farmer was lamenting that the land had been even more reticent than usual, and he was likely to lose his home to the mortgagers. 

“The boar’s stomach gave a great rumble, then it leaned forward and puked up a pile of gold coins onto the ground. The farmer never went hungry again and the village prospered.”

Junkrat couldn’t help himself, he burst out laughing. 

Hana laughed too, shook her head. “There’s no way that’s a thing.”

“It’s Australia,” Roadhog argued, deadpan voice. “It absolutely is.”

Lucio nodded, took a drag from the joint. “I could see it.”

They told stories and Lucio led them in carols and the warmth of the fire and the whiskey and Roadhog at his side and Lena’s jokes “What do you call a dinosaur fart? A blast from the past! Why does a duck have tail feathers? To cover his butt quack!” and Emily’s laughter lulled Junkrat into a doze.

“He snores louder than a boar,” Satya said, irritably. Lena giggled.

“You gave him your scarf,” Hana said to Roadhog and her tone was equal parts teasing and curious.

Junkrat felt Roadie’s shoulders move in a shrug. “Never takes care of himself, even when he’s sick.” But though he was more than half asleep, he could hear the tight coldness of the comment. The relaxed ease had gone. Junkrat wanted to sit up and interrupt, but he was just so tired.

“Gave him your cold too, huh.” Still that sing-song teasing tone, but it cut at Junkrat.

“Maybe.”

“Come on, Roadhog. What’s up with you two, anyway? He won’t give us a straight answer.”

Felt like everyone’s eyes were on them, staring. Junkrat tensed. Sit up, he told himself. Stop this. But he didn’t. He wanted to know what Roadhog would say, even more than he didn’t want to know.

Roadhog’s shoulder moved in another shrug. “Someone’s gotta keep him from offing himself on accident.”

Mei laughed; least no one else did.

Ice through his body, through his stomach, his mind, his lungs. He coughed against it, but it didn’t move. The fire had burned down to little more than embers and even scarf and hat, mitten and whiskey weren’t enough to keep him warm. He forced himself up then, away from Roadhog. Faked a yawn like he just woke up.

“Knackered. Gonna call it a night. Happy Christmas all.” Forced the words past lips that felt frozen and barely heard the others saying goodnight and thanks for the fireworks. 

The moon glowed on the snow, lighting the way back to the cabin enough to keep him from stumbling on tree roots and rocks. His foot crunched softly on pine needles and he heard Roadhog’s louder footfalls behind him. He walked faster. Just wanted to be inside, to be alone, to be warm, to be silent. Even the light of the Christmas tree seemed to mock him with its fake promise of coziness. He’d take a bath, let the water warm his bones, soothe the chills, then sleep. 

“When I said ya ain’t gotta babysit me no more, I meant it,” Junkrat said stiffly as Roadhog followed him into the bathroom. “Promise I ain’t gonna drown in the bath. Even I’m not stupid enough to do that.”

“How’re you going to get in and out?” Roadhog asked bluntly.

Junkrat turned to look and of course there were no bars to let him navigate it himself. Once he took off his prosthetics he’d be screwed. Fuck. He pushed past Roadhog and out of the bathroom. Wasn’t worth it.  

But the bedroom was just as bad. Wanted to collapse onto the bed and sleep for a century or ten, but Roadhog was standing there in the middle of the room taking up all of the space and all of the air and Junkrat knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep with his… looming. Instead he shoved the pillows to the head of the cot and sat against the wall, wrapping a blanket around himself. Just barely resisted pulling it over his head, too. Knew Roadie would stare and it was making him jittery. Not in a good way. His head ached again, skin tight with the too hot too cold feeling of returning fever. Should have asked Lucio for more meds. He rubbed a hand over his face, wishing for relief. Wishing for Roadie’s hand on his forehead again, cool and firm and steadying.

“Gonna tell me what’s eating you?” Roadhog asked, finally. His arms were crossed over his chest and he looked down at Junkrat from his full height. Not exactly the most inviting posture. 

“What are we?” The question spilled from him like he was vomiting. “An’ don’t give me some stupid shit like you don’t know what I mean. Hana asks and Lucio asks and you avoid the question.”

“Why do we need to put words to it? Why do they need to know anything?” 

Junkrat shrugged. It wasn’t for them that he needed words. It was him. He needed a foundation, an understanding. Because things were slippery and they could slide away from him before he had a chance to catch hold. “It’s me askin’. Now that ya ain’t my bodyguard. What are we?”

A long pause, a silence full of all the things Roadhog didn’t say. 

“Morrison said I could leave,” Junkrat blurted, unable to stand it.

Roadhog waited.

“Said if this do-gooder shit was too bloody difficult he’d have Lena turn me in. Serve my time and then whatever came next was my choice.”

No response.

“Told him I’d have to talk to you about it, but he said just meant me. I been thinkin...’ we should do it. Could probably convince him to let you go too. Then when we were far enough away could hijack the Orca, dump Lena and head back to Straya. Head home. Get the treasure, sell it to the Queen and find a place to just… live.” He blinked and the after-image of fireworks burst across his vision, constellations in all their permutations. Home. Was it? Didn’t really know anymore… But maybe there it wouldn’t be so hard, maybe there it would be like it had been.

Still no response, no movement at all. Like Roadhog’d turned to stone. Mountain. Felt his gaze go cold, measuring, calculating. Had seen Roadhog turn that gaze on others, size them up, find them lacking… but not on himself. He froze. Utterly still. Waited for the judgment to fall. Then Roadhog laughed. Not like something was funny, or maybe like he was funny and the sound was brittle and sharp in his ears.

“What’s so bloody funny, mate?” and his own voice held an edge.

“The idea that I would want to leave this,” he gestured around the room, taking in everything, “give up the good thing I got going here to… what? Live out some tiny shit life in that hellhole with you? Why the fuck do you think I’d want to go back to that? And with you?” He positively roared with laughter. “You are thick as a rock. Batshit crazy. A complete mess. Sure, when there wasn’t anyone else around who wasn’t trying to kill me, you were good for a laugh. A way to get my rocks off. But in the real world? Fuck no.”

“Fuck you too.” The words scraped his throat and he wished he had covered his head because he had that ominous prickling behind his eyes like he was going to fucking cry, or sneeze, and either way he was fucking well not going to give Roadhog the satisfaction.

“You want to know what we are, Junkrat? We ain’t shit. Nothing. Do what you want, stay or go. I couldn’t possibly give less of a shit.”

“Well that’s fuckin’ clear as crystal. Why don’t you fuck off then an’ let me sleep.” He grit his teeth, bit the inside of his cheek hard enough that he tasted iron. Not going to crumble. Watched as Roadhog turned and crossed the room. Watched the door click shut behind him. Watched the blank wall and refused to let himself crack. Silence then, that he’d wanted. But no warmth. Even wrapped in blankets felt like he was sitting in a snowstorm. Everything muffled and frozen. Freezing.

Then that chuckle in his head. You got an answer. Might not have been the one you wanted, but really Jamison, what did you expect? Did you honestly think he would go back to an irradiated waste land and a criminal life to be with you?

He thumped his head back against the wall, squeezed his eyes shut. Clenched his fist so hard his nails bit into his palm. Shut it. Ain’t real.

No? So make me be silent, then. More laughter. Oh Jamison. How do you think someone would want to be with you when your own mother couldn’t stand to be with you? 

You don’t know nothing ‘bout my mum, he told her. Nothing. But a couple tears leaked free, and the tingling prickles made him sneeze and he buried his head in the blankets and let himself go until he fell asleep, her laughter and Roadhog’s laughter still ringing in his head.

Sleep was restless, part of him kept jerking awake thinking he heard the door open. He hadn’t. When he finally woke completely he felt like he’d been hit by the ute, then had it back over him again. He stumbled out to the living room where he found Hana and Lucio playing a game with Emily, and Mei and Satya watching. 

“Morning, Junkrat,” Lucio said.

“More like afternoon,” Hana corrected.

“Potato potahto,” Lucio shrugged. “Wanna join? You can play winner.”

“Nah,” he cleared his throat, tried to sound nonchalant. “Where’s Roadie?”

“Apparently Morrison sent him on some mission. Something going on in Australia. Lena took him early this morning,” Satya said. “Guess you didn’t go ‘cause you’re sick?” Hana asked.

“Yeah. Something like that.” His head went light. Hadn’t thought Roadhog would actually leave. Take the treasure for himself and go… but there it was. He made his way into the kitchen on a floor that seemed to rock like a boat. Opened the sat comm with numb fingers. 

“Morrison.” “It’s Fawkes. I’ll take your offer. I want to turn myself in.”

[laurazepamwrites]

The Chemicals between us ~ Chapter 13

 After their visit to Pix Elle, Mei and Angela had tried the other addresses of the missing omnics without further luck. One had refused to let them in at all and the other address was abandoned altogether, the premises ransacked of what little possessions left. The only thing to remain was the strange Omnic graffiti again. After this Angela insisted on some downtime to collect their thoughts by going to the fashion museum then feeling inspired by this, went shopping for ‘just one new pair of shoes and a dress.’ The boot of the car now loaded with a number of high end bags, they made their way to the bustling Port of Calais to find answers at Hubs most recent place of work. Seagulls screamed overhead and the salt in the air was strong. Huge cruise ships and cargo containers lined the docks. They parked close by and followed the signs for the shipping and logistics companies further along. Mei looked around as they walked past surly looking men, huge cranes unloading steel containers and security droids scanning for anything illegal. She caught sight of a sketchy looking Omnic in shabby clothes who stopped to give her and her companion a look of suspicion. Mei glanced away quickly and kept her eyes peeled for the Global freight logo. Luckily she did not need to search far.

 ‘Hey hey hey you ladies cant be down here!” A large man wearing a hi vis jacket and hardhat shouted across to them in a french accent. “Cruise ships are on the other side! Bloody tourists..”

 “Is this Global Freight?” Angela asked, ignoring him.

 “You health and safety? You're not due to next wednesday.”

   “My name Is Amander Muller and this is Lin Chang, we’re looking for Hub 0.5. We understand he works here?”

 “You police?”

 “Non monsieur, we’re journalists for the Connexion. Might I know your name?”

 He scratched his stubble of a beard and looked them both up and down. “Too pretty to be pigs I guess..names Vic Dubrand. I'm the foreman here. Now why are you after that rust bucket Hub?”

 “He may help us with a report we are working on but have unable to locate him. Even his wife hasn't seen him for days.” Said Angela.

 “You think I have? Look lady, Hub came to work as usual then never shows up again. Far as i'm concerned he don't work for me no more. Already got a bot to replace him.”

 “How was he? When you last saw him?” Mei asked

 Dubrand smirked at her. “Its an Omnic sweetheart, you think they have feelings or bad days like we do? He comes to work, does what hes programmed to, goes home. Ah mind you, he did argue with some other bots down by the old containers last week. I think they were some layabouts with no jobs causing trouble.”

 Mei and Angela exchanged glances. “When was this?” Angela asked.

 “Dunno exactly, about two days before he disappears.”

 “Did you see the Omnics he argued with again?”

 “Non, they just come by, paint their stupid propaganda and leave. Hub scrubbed most of it off.”

 “Where's the container?”

 Dubrand turned and vaguely gestured behind him. “Somewhere over there, I don't give a shit about what Omnics get up to as long as they know their place. Not much else to tell you.” He adjusted his hard hat and began walking back to his site office. “You get hit with a falling container not my fault!” He added before shutting the door.

 “Charming man..” Mei said bitterly.

 It only took them a couple of minutes to find the container Dubrand mentioned. It had been scrubbed hard to dispose of the spray paint but the strange code was just about visible. It was the same they had found at nearly every site an Omnic had disappeared. “This cant be a coincidence can it?” Asked Mei, kneeling down to run her fingers over the paint which flaked off at her touch.

 “Its certainly suspicious, but keep in mind there are posters and art everywhere for pro and anti Omnic. This could just be the latest one..see? look over there, there's a sticker that says ‘Humans cant be trusted.’”

 “I think you're right, but I'm going to send Athena a picture of this code just in case.” Mei replied, taking her camera out and taking a few snaps.

 Angela looked at her watch. “Good idea..we should head back, not much else to do until the rally tomorrow.”

 They headed back along the docks and to the street where they had left the car. As they walked Mei noticed Angela glance around behind them. “Act normal Mei and walk straight past the car.” Mei frowned up at her. “Whats wrong?”

 “We’re being followed. Look ahead and stay calm.”

 Mei did as she was told and resisted the urge to look behind her, she had no idea who was following them or how far behind but she was glad Angela had experienced enough to know they were in potential danger. She followed Angelas lead and soon the doctor led them to an alleyway. Angela pulled Mei behind her and took out her gun, aiming it at the entrance then at the head of their stalker who turned into the alley seconds later.

 “Whoa whoa whoa! Lady, that's a bit much!”  The shabby, rust speckled Omnic Mei noticed at the docks threw his hands up in surrender.

 Angela kept her pistol well aimed. “Who are you and what do you want?”

 “Sal! My names Sal, short for Shipping analysis lo-”

 “What do you want!” Snapped Angela.

 “Gee are you always this cranky? Can you put the gun down? it's making me      very    nervous.”

 Angela narrowed her eyes at the strange Omnic and lowered her weapon but kept a firm grip on it. “Talk.”

 “I heard you, back at the docks? You said you're looking for Hub..I know him.”

 “You're not the only one so why follow us? What do you know?” Asked Angela.

 “Know you’re not reporters. Old Sal here knows the media cares not for me and mine unless its something bad. You think they care if we go missing? If I had a mouth I'd spit!”

 Angela began to raise her gun again. “If you have no viable information than..”

 “I saw Hub get taken!” Sal exclaimed, cowering slightly. “He..he saw some strange omnics graffiting at the docks. He told them to clear off but they just stood there, Hub didn't move either! I couldn't understand what they were saying, we Omnics speak to each other in Omnicode but I couldn't understand this. It was like another language but Hub.. he understood. He let them go. I tried to talk to him after but he was acting weird..said he needed to ‘wake up’. Then Dubrand shouts at us to get back to work but I followed Hub home that night. I was worried..I watched him walk to the front of his apartment and the same image was there, he just stares at it and looked like he was waiting for something.”

 “Did you try to talk to him at all?” Mei asked, feeling slightly unnerved by Sals story.

 “I shouted his name and was about to go to him but a car comes round the corner, black windows. I couldn't see who was driving. Hub he..he just gets in! I think they saw me. They didn't drive away until I left. I can't go to the police, they don't care and then you ladies show up!”

 “Can you read the code on the painting?” Mei showed him the picture she took at the docks but Sal just shook his head. “Nothing Ive seen before. We Omnics all speak the same code, its how we communicate. Its how the defected had such an upper hand in the war. But this? This is just gibberish!”

 Angela holstered her gun. “Sal, I think you need to come with us. From what you have seen I think you may be in danger.”

 Sal shook his head and back off. “No thanks lady, still don't trust you. You could be the bad guys for all i know..oh I think I made a mistake talking to you. See Sal you just need to keep ya head down and shut up. That's what Dubrand always told ya..Ol Hub is probably just fine.” He backed up to the end of the alley and briskly walked away muttering to himself.  Mei looked from Sal to Angela. “Do we follow him?”

 “It would draw too much attention trying to force a twitchy Omnic like that in the car, besides we need to get this information to the Commander as soon as possible. Has Athena come back with any results?”

 Mei checked her phone for any contact. “No, not yet.”

 “Lets go. We’ll head back to the hotel and write up what we know so far, this isn't good Mei. I dread to think what this could all mean.”

                          -----------------------------------------------------------

 Ana and Satya watched each other intensely, waiting for the other to make their move. Satyas gauntlet glowed as she prepared to manipulate a cube of hard light between her fingers and Ana had her sleep dart aimed at her heart.

 “Ill ask again..what are you doing?” Satya asked coldly.

 “Would you believe me if i said i was the cleaning lady?” Ana smirked.

 “You kill a vishkar employee and you make jokes?”

 Ana tutted. “Oh shes not dead, just asleep. You are welcome to join her unless you power down that glove of yours.”

 “You think to challenge me?” Satya scoffed. “Do you know who I am.”

 “Yes my dear I know who you are. I wonder if you do.”

 The question confused Satya and the lack of focus showed in the hardlight that quivered in her hand. Ana saw the lapse in concentration, she could have shot her there and then, wipe Satya’s computer and leave the way she came, but she decided not to. Instead she placed her sleep dart at her feet, kicked it away from her and raised her hands, all the while smiling at Satya. As quickly as the sleep dart had fallen still on the spotless carpet had hardlight binds wrapped around Anas wrists. Ana looked down at the near transparent, crystal blue solid light. It was hard not to admire the craftsmanship behind it.

 “Well you caught me, and what will you do now I wonder?” Ana cheerfully asked. “Call security? Police? Maybe you and I can have a little chat before you do that?”

 “Silence! Before I bind your mouth too.”

 “A pity my dear, wouldn't you like to hear what an old Overwatch Captain has to say?”

 The binds flickered for a split second but Satya held firm. She could not keep this up for longer. Focusing hardlight was incredibly difficult which made Architects highly valuable. Soon she would need to make the decision to call security, drag her there herself or release her and talk. She had surrendered after all and the curiosity over this womans strange actions were dulling her focus.

 “Who are you?” She eventually asked.

 “My name is Captain Ana Amari. I am not here to hurt you or anyone else Satya. I'm trying to prevent that from happening to anyone.”

 “Why have you come here?”

 “Because Vishkar are potentially a threat, and you are much easier to get to then Mr Korpal. I wonder dear..do you know who you work for?”

 The binds cracked and loosened before solidifying once again. “How dare you.” Satya breathed hard. “Vishkar is building a better future for humanity, we have built home for the displaced, we-!”

 “Impose martial law to control people? My dear you are not unintelligent, did you ever stop to think what Vishkar was doing was unethical?”

 “We...I..I just want to make a better world.”

 Ana smiled sympathetically at her. “So do we Satya, but i don't think you’ll get the world you want by being Sanjay's puppet.”

 The binds disappeared completely in specks of light that glinted as they fell. A bead of sweat ran down Satyas face. “I owe him everything.” she said weakly.

 “No dear, i think you owe yourself that credit.” Ana said, pulling the microchip from the computer. She handed it to Satya. “Take it. I don't think what I am looking for is here after all.”

 Satya took it from her cautiously. Ana fished in her bag and pulled out a small notepad and quickly jotted down something, tore the page out and gave it to Satya.

 “This is my personal number, listen to your gut feeling and you call me when you really want to change the world.” Satya stared at it, plagued by questions and her head swimming with confusion. She opened her mouth to ask Ana more but instead a soft “      Oh!”    escaped her lips as she felt a quick sharp prick on her arm. Looking down she saw a tiny dart sticking in her skin like a small insect, she felt woozy.

 “Im sorry Satya but I really must be going.” Ana said sincerely, like she had stopped by for a visit with an old friend. She gently took the Architect's unresisting arm and sat her down on the sofa. Ana brushed a loose strand of her behind her ear. “Nxt time you see Sanjay..ask him. Ask him about Talon. Soon you will understand.”

 Satya mouthed silent words, unable to speak, her eyelids grew heavier and heavier. She heard the door to her office shut softly, the      ding    of the elevator as it arrived on its floor. She slumped softly onto her side.

 “Am I a puppet?” She thought before falling asleep.

                     ------------------------------------------------------------

 Mei tossed and turned in the hotel bed, struggling to sleep. It was more frustrating here, she was on a mission and needed to be rested. As soon as they returned from their strange meeting with the Omnic named Sal, Angela had called back to base and updated Morrison on their investigation. He was concerned with their findings and warned them to be cautious and to find out what they could at the rally. She looked at the time on her phone. It was almost two in the morning. Feeling the insomnia defeat her for now she opened up her messages to check for the millionth time if she had any feedback from Athena. As she expected there was none, but something did catch her attention. Athena had set up a private network for the occupants of the Gibraltar base to stay in contact when out in the field or on opposite ends of the building. Mei occasionally checked it for messages, usually very late at night. Most of the time she noticed Junkrat was also awake at stupid o clock in the morning, just like he was tonight. Mei considered messaging him but what would she say? Her first thought was ‘Haha turns out this mission was a lot bigger than you thought.’ But that wasn't very becoming of her, she thought maybe she could just say hi, but she felt awkward doing even that. Especially if he poked fun or even ignored her. Still, she did wonder why he was up so late and so often. Angela mumbled something in her sleep and rolled over, Mei yawned and decided it was time to try and sleep again before she got herself annoyed again over the Junker. Still, he did prove to be a good distraction as Mei was soundly asleep a short time later.

 Mei woke up before her alarm the following morning, she had quietly slipped out of bed, washed and changed before heading down to the breakfast bar alone. She kept checking her phone, no update from anyone back at base. Mei took note of the time, It was nearly eight in the morning, another ten hours to go before they were due at the extraction site. She mulled over what they had found out from yesterday's leads and kept coming back to the strange conversation with Sal. Who were the Omnics who spoke to Hub? Had he really just left with them on his own accord? And what about the strange code on the graffiti? Did it connect to the strange language Hub apparently used? Mei had begun to wonder how much of Sal’s story was even credible. She jumped slightly as a coffee mug was placed on the table, jolting her from her thoughts. “Sleep well?” Angela asked brightly, sitting opposite Mei.

 “I think so, how about you?”

 “Hmm the pillows were too soft.” Angela complained, massaging the back of her neck. “Still, the mattress is a lot better than my one back at base.” Mei smiled in response and absent mindedly pulled apart the croissant in front of her.

 “Nervous?” Angela asked.

 “I guess? I'm worried how the rally will go. They start off with good intentions..but you know how some get.”

 “If that happens we leave as quickly as possible. We’re not in a position for combat and we can't give ourselves away. Just stay with me and we’ll be fine.” She gave Mei a reassuring smile which Mei returned, the anxiety still gnawing away at her. They finished up their breakfast and headed back to the room to start packing their belongings. Mei trying to coax an angry snowball to go into sleep mode and to be placed in a large duffel bag again and Angela delicately placing her new clothes into her luggage with as little creasing as possible. It was past ten in the morning when they checked out and loaded the car with their suitcases. They planned to be at the rally location by midday to get a good spot for surveillance so had spent some time wandering the streets and had a light lunch at a local cafe near to the square where the rally was to be held. As midday approached they headed to the square, it was already filling with people and omnics alike. Some held placards with pro omnic slogans whilst others opted for banners and flags. The atmosphere was jovial as music began to play as sound checks were being made on stage. Angea and Mei inched further forward,opting to be close to the stage and the large marquee next to it which Mei assumed was for the organizers and guests.

 “Over here Mei.” Said Angela, signalling to a free space by the metal crowd control barriers. “So now we wait.” She said, leaning on the barrier. “Chances are nothing will happen so may as well try to enjoy ourselves. There's a band playing after the speeches.”

 “I’m not sticking around so you can have a dance.”

 “You’ve really lost your sense of fun.”

 “We’re working!”

 “We’re blending in, go on - shout something pro Omnic!”

 “Angela I really don't want to draw attention to my-Owww!” Mei whined and covered her ears as Angela winced, most of the crowd copied their behavior and complained loudly as the speakers on stage blasted a high pitch feedback.

 “Désolé! Je suis désolé! Sorry everyone!” An omnic rushed to the mic to apologize for the noise. “Bad soundcheck but we’re almost ready to begin!”

 “Huh, earlier than expected.” Noted Angela as she looked at her phone which had started to vibrate. “Hello? Jack?” Angela answered her phone and looked confused. “Hello?” She looked at her phone and pressed the screen. “Weird.” She said, hanging up. “Maybe he called by mistake.”

 “What do you mean?” Mei asked.

 “I couldn't hear him, just strange noises..maybe there's a bad signal here.”

 “Maybe..” Mei hoped it was something that simple, looking around she noticed some omnics still recovering from the harsh feedback noise. Some were shaking their heads, others looked rather dazed. It must affect them more than humans. “What if he was calling about the code?” She asked Angela. The Doctor was already on it and had her phone pressed to her ear. “No..nothing.” She said hanging up. “Can you try?” But Mei had the same result, she even tried Winston and Reinhardt, stranger still was that she had full signal on her phone. Out of the corner of her eye she saw an Omnic stumble on the spot..her anxiety started to flare up and she barely heard the announcement on stage. She heard the crowd cheering louder and she glanced up at the stage, her eyes widening.

 “Angela..its Liberte..!” But Angela was fully aware the presumed missing Omnic had made a sudden appearance. The crowd cheered as the artist came on stage. “Maybe it was personal reasons after all.” She looked up at Angela who was frowning at the Omnic, “What is it?” Mei asked, following her gaze. Liberte had reached the microphone and simply stood there, not greeting his audience, not saying a word. The cheering had died down and there was awkward laughter and mutterings from the crowd. “Maybe this is a live art piece!” Mei overheard someone say.

 Liberte stood silent a minute more then very slowly his head began to raise, it jerked to the side suddenly as if he just got shocked. He began to speak. “Brothers, sisters. What a sad sight you are before me..” The crowd murmured, confusion rippling among them. “We have been victims from the day we were born from our Mother Omniums into this ravaged planet. We have been made scapegoats to Mankind's own failures. We have been murdered, mutilated and made into slaves by our oppressors!” Mei looked through the crowd, some were nodding their heads in agreement, others looking nervous. Some humans had already begun to leave, she saw some of the Omnics affected by the high pitch noise from earlier and felt her stomach knot. They stood completely still, heads down, no glow to their eyes. As if they were sleeping. “Angela…?” She said nervously.

 “We’re leaving. Nice and easy and keep calm” The doctor said, taking Mei’s arm and turning her around. As they began to push back through the crowd Liberte continued to speak. “You traitors that slave under human rule.” His head jerked violently, his eyes flashed. “You cowards that live in fear of flesh and blood! We are the stronger race!” Liberte screamed and jerked.       “    We are the cure! -      Jerk-    We will rise from the ashes of our dead and the bones of our oppressors!”

 The crowd was getting stirred up as humans and Omnics alike tried to leave, there were shouts for Liberte to leave the stage and a bottle was even thrown at him, the glass smashing on stage yet he did not even flinch, shouts for uprising, shouts for a new crisis. Scuffling broke out nearby in the crowd and one of the sleeping Omnics was shoved hard, falling to the ground. Mei looked back and hesitated. “Angela wait!” She shouted, making her decision and rushing back to the fallen Omnic. She crouched by him and shook him but there was no light in his eyes and he made no movement. “Leave him Mei!” Angela grabbed her and half dragged her upwards on to her feet. She had her phone pressed to her ear again. “Dammit!” She shouted, still getting no signal to contact base. “This was planned! We need to get out of here before a riot happens.”

 “Liberte! Angela look at Liberte!”

 Liberte was jerking more violently, his eyes flashing from blue to red, he gripped the microphone stand to support himself and a burst of sparks flew from circuits on his neck. “The eye is lost but the eye will open! It's time to wake up.” A final jerk and his eyes went dead and his head slumped forward, mirroring the ‘sleeping’ Omnics standing like sentinels in the panicking crowd. Slowly his eyes glowed red and he raised his head, a strange sound erupting from the speakers. High pitched noises of different frequencies almost sounding like a song as it pulsated from the speakers. It took a few seconds for Mei to realize Liberte was making the noise. “Wha..What is that?”

 The strange noise stopped and Liberte began to laugh as oil started to drip from his red glowing eyes, his omnic mouth and from joints in his body. “The eye is opening!” He screamed as his body jerked and crackled from exploding circuits within him as he slumped forward and fell from the stage.

 “We need to get to him! Mei, head to the barriers.” They went back on themselves, finding it much harder as the crowd pushed back against them as they tried to leave. More projectiles were being thrown and the atmosphere increasingly heated. Mei saw the fallen omnic on the ground, his metal fingers twitching, she barely registered him this time, she was scared and felt incredibly exposed. Angelas hand on her shoulder was the only thing keeping her grounded as her small frame was shoved and pushed by those around her. She gasped and ducked as something smashed against a wall close by. The shouting was getting too much..she could hear sirens blaring and getting closer. “Keep going, almost there.” Angela said. Fuelled by adrenaline they reached the barriers, Angela vaulting herself over them and reaching back to help pull Mei over. She felt instantly safer with the barriers between them and the increasingly angry crowd. As she caught her breath she spotted Liberte sprawled on the ground below the stage, Angela was already rushing to him.

 “Liberte? What happened? Who did this to you?”

 His eyes had gone back to their normal blue, he was gasping like his body was in pain. “Where-am-I?”

 “Sshh It's ok, its ok. We’re gonna help you, we’re getting you out of here.”

 Mei’s head snapped to the crowd as the shouting suddenly began to change pitch to frightened screaming. More pockets of fighting were breaking out and others had started to rush the barriers, she backed up against the stage, broken glass cracking under her feet.

 Liberte gasped and reached up, pulling at Angela's shirt. He rasped and gurgled. It was an awful sound, an awful sight, as the oil bubbled as it leaked from him like blood. His eyes began to flicker and dull. His voice crackled as he tried to speak. “The-They are-c-c-calling.”

 “Who? Who's calling? Liberte..? Liberte!?” Angela shook him but his eyes were now dull. He was dead.

 “Angela! Behind you!”

 Angela felt something claw viciously at her back, She scrambled up, half stumbled over libertes dead body and fell against the stage, spinning herself she aimed her pistol and fired. One of the ‘sleeping’ Omnics fell heavily to the ground, a smoking hole between its eyes. Angela and Mei looked on in horror as the omnics that stood silent were now very much animated and attacking whatever was near them, their eyes glowing red. Mei watched as the one she tried to help had risen from the ground and was viciously attacking someone. She felt sick.

 “Mei! Down there!” Angela pulled her along after her, pistol in hand, towards a small side street lined with boutique shops and cafes that had closed for the rally. The graffiti with the strange code was hastily painted on one of the shutters, wet paint dripping down the metal. Mei looked over her shoulder as she ran and faltered, stopping in her tracks as people ran past her to escape.

 “Hub..?”

 It was him. The gentle looking omnic from the photograph with Pix Elle, he staggered down the street towards her, swiping and grabbing at anyone that came near, a spatter of crimson blood across his metal face.

 Angela fired and shot a red eyed omnic that had burst from an adjourning street, it crashed to the ground, its eyes slowly burning out. ‘      How many are there!?’    Thought Angela. ‘      Is the whole city affected?’    An omnic pushed past her and she aimed her pistol, it raised its hands and cowered before her, its eyes blue. She lowered her weapon and the omnic continued to run. ‘      Only certain ones    ?’ Close by a shop window smashed and she heard more sirens and shouting back towards the square, the combat medic in her urged her to return and help the wounded but with no valkyrie suit or medical supplies what use could she be? No, get to extraction. Just keep moving. “Mei keep going, I’ll cover you!..Mei?”      She was here, she was next to me!”    . “Mei?!” Angela screamed, desperately trying to see her through the rush of panic and terror.

 Hub shambled slowly towards Mei, his head jerking as Libertes did and he was struggling to stand. Whatever was causing this seemed short lived. The omnic weakly grabbed at anything that got to close as they ran past but his grip was too weak. Mei winced as he stumbled and fell to his knees, a lone drip of oil running from his eye and blending with the blood. Mei crouched down slowly, picking up an empty bottle left in the street and tentatively stepped forward.

 “Hub..?” She said gently and took a step forward. “Hub, my name is Mei..I..I know your wife. Pix Elle?”

 Hub stayed motionless, he remained on his knees and seemed fixated on the slow      drip drip drip    of oil as it fell to the ground. His head jerked at the mention of his wife's name.

 “I don't know what's happening to you Hub.” Mei took another step forward. “But I know it's not your fault.”

     Drip drip drip  

 “Its ok..we can help you.” Another step.

     Drip drip drip  

 “We can find Pix Elle. We can try and stop this..”

     Drip drip drip  

 Mei was close to him, he was ignoring everyone that rushed by now, she was sure he could hear her, understand her. She knelt in front of him.

 “I know you’re in there Hub..I know you don't want to do this. None of you do..im so sorry this has happened..”

 He slowly raised his head, oil now leaking from all eyes. He looked like he was crying. “Pix..Pix..Pix.” His head jerked with each word.

 “We’ll find her ok? Lets find her.” Mei smiled warmly at him and slowly held her hand out. Hub looked at it and his eyes started to flash back to blue. “I..I..”

 “It's ok Hub..” She said softly.

 “I..”

 She could hear the low hum of engines overheard and the crowds were getting thinner, maybe the French authorities were taking control of the situation. Close by a window smashed, Mei flinched at the sound and Hubs eyes flashed to red, He snapped his head at Mei.

 “Hub      no    !” Mei fell backwards as he launched at her, she scrambled back desperately as he clawed at her legs, his metal digits painfully scratching her, Mei kicked him hard in the face, one of his eyes cracking from the force. She struggled back and attempted to stand but Hub snatched her ankle and pulled her down roughly, the side of her head hitting the pavement as she fell. Mei gasped in pain and instantly felt nauseous and her vision blurred, she was barely aware that she was screaming. She thrashed viciously and felt his grip weaken, using the opportunity to pull herself up more before she smashed the bottle down on his head with all her strength, his grip slackened and finally he let go. Whether she killed him or not she did not know, her mind race and before she knew it she was half running half feeling her way away from the Omnic. “Angela!” She tried to scream, her voice feeling hoarse. “      Angela!”  

 But she was too disoriented, she had no idea how far she had run and no idea where she was now. She felt people running by, the ringing in her ears adding to the confusion. Someone tried grabbing her wrist and shouted but without her glasses she couldn't tell if it was someone trying to help or harm her, she wrenched her arm free and ran once again but she was feeling more sick by the second, she stumbled on something and she reached to steady herself, feeling cool brick wall beneath her fingertips. Mei involuntarily leant against it and slid to the ground, catching her breath and fighting the urge to vomit. She was sure she heard her name over the distortion in her head, but the world was too blurry to make sense of, her glasses cracked and useless. The throbbing in her head was intense. She tried to sit up but the pain made her feel more nauseous. Over the ringing noise she heard her name being shouted again but maybe she imagined it. Mei blinked trying to focus, something was in her eye, she blinked again, It was wet and red and hot. Mei gave a startled cry, squeezing her eyes shut and tried once again to move, her body feeling like lead, panic bubbling in her stomach and chest growing tight as her mind began to catch up on what was happening. She needed to find Angela. With effort she braced her arm against the wall and attempted to push herself up, ignoring the urge to throw up and the pain pulsing through her skull. Suddenly hands were on her pushing her firmly back down, Mei yelled in alarm and lashed out, her fist connecting hard with whoever was in front her.

 “Ow! Fucks sake woman, you wanna be left here?”

 Her hair was sticking to the blood on her face as it began to dry. “J-Junkrat?”

 “...Gotta keep still ok Mei, dunno how bad you are. Just focus on yer breathing before shock gets to ya alrite?” He gave her arms a reassuring squeeze.

 Mei gave a small whimper in reply, trying to touch the bleeding wound on her head. Jamison grabbed her hand and held onto it.

 ‘Nope, no ya dont wanna touch that ok. Trust me it's not that bad, just a lil nick.’ He reassured her.

 Tears now joined the blood streaming down her face as her choked on a sob. “I can't..I can't see”

 “Yeaahhhh...ya glasses wanna bit o’ glue i won't lie. But don't worry about that kay? Lets just get you moving.”  He reached up to his communicator. “Yeah hi, whoever's listening I found Frosty- I mean Mei! Mei! I found Mei..yeah she's ok, bit of blood. Maybe concussed to fuck...Uh huh..yeah..yeeaah..ok bored now bye!” He reached into one of the leather wallets on his belt and pulled out some gauze. “Sorry this might hurt.” He said, pressing the gauze against the wound.

 “Ahh!” Mei squealed in pain.

 “Told ya. Keep it pressed on coz we gotta move, Jesus Christ what the fuck happened here?” He crouched next to her, hooking an arm around her as she gingerly placed hers around his shoulders. “Ok on three..three-!” He vaulted her up onto her feet with ease but the sudden movement threatened her stomach and her head felt like it was about to split.

 “Ahhhoowww oww owww! Why did you do that?” Mei whined loudly.

 “Your up aren't ya? I don't fancy hanging around! Fucking hell you are      tiny!”  

 “Can someone else come get me?” Mei whimpered.

 “Ok down you go.” Junkrat replied bluntly as he began to lower her.

 “No no no no!” Mei clung on to him in panic, her nails sharply digging into him.

 “Yeah that's what I thought...”