solarbird: (widow)
Sometimes, when I am Widowmaker, I will say hello to enemy Tracers, and sometimes, when I am Tracer, I will say hello to enemy Widowmakers.

Today, I had an enemy Tracer wave back.

Hello, cherie.
solarbird: (widow)
For two minutes last night, I was the Widowmaker I want to be.

Offence, Temple of Anubis. My team is wretched, and is not even going to make it past the first choke point. I take out their Pharah who is flying over said choke point, potshotting my team, and chain atop one of the statues to get a better angle - and suddenly, I cannot miss. (And I'm legitimately not missing, my timing and aim just clicks.)

I take down the dwarf's turret three times. I kill four more enemy team members, mostly single shots, but sometimes two shots, not quite fast enough to prevent replenishment as they come back from spawn, but despite me being the only one killing anyone, they're depleted, badly, down to three on the defensive line. I swing around them using the secret route I've only once seen anyone else use, and attack their remaining defence from above and behind, taking out their Torb (again), and his turret (again), and their... McCree, I think? Only their Genji remains, and he gets me with his charge before I can get him.

But then even that team can figure out they can advance against only one player, and swarm him, and get onto the point. I come back and get Torb and his turret again and we take the first point otherwise unopposed.

And sadly, that's where the magic part of all this ends, because while I'm continuing to play well, the entire enemy team - all of whom I have killed at least once - knows exactly who the fuck is the god damned problem, and that the rest of my team is not one, and I am whole-team first target the rest of the game. They try (and fail, you're welcome) to stuff us at second spawn, but while I can get them back to more typical defensive positions, I can't do everything, and I'm no longer incapable of missing - they've learned to shoot quickly and to hide. (And also, sadly, my aim and timing return to my baseline, I fell from nearly 90% down to... 67% I think? Something like that.)

But for two minutes, I was the goddess of death. I was the Widowmaker I want to be, I was the Widowmaker of legend - of one shot, one kill - and all fled from my sight. It was wonderful.
solarbird: (Default)

[All comments in «angle quotes» translated from the Spanish]

[AO3 link]

"Mockingbird, got a moment?"

Mockingbird looked up from where she'd been watching Angela tend to Mei and Fareeha on the troop carrier's medical bunks. Still deep in the web, she replied, almost without inflection, "Yes, Strike Leader?"

Gabriel caught the tone and knew what it meant, took a deep breath and decided to take the careful route. "I need to apologise to you formally, Mockingbird, and I want to do it in front of everyone. Tracer, are you still on comms?"

Mockingbird tilted her head, and touched her microphone. In the same flat voice, she said, "Gabriel, Tracer here. Monitoring."

Not even really trying to keep up the illusion, he thought. Damn, she's hella mad. He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. I should've stepped in against Ana's ... I don't even know what that was ... sooner. Immediately, even."

"Sir."

"She's not under my command, so I can't reprimand her, but I could have stopped it. That's part of my responsibility - to defend my team - and I didn't do it, and I apologise."

"Sir."

"I will not let it happen again."

Lena let herself lift a little of her controls, and shook just a little, taking in a quick breath, quicker than her current physiology needed. A hint of inflection returned to her voice. "...I appreciate that, Strike Leader."

"I hope you will forgive me."

Mockingbird nodded, slowly, and lifted a little more of the web up.

"Tracer, Gabriel - you got all that?" Reyes said, towards his microphone.

"Gabriel, Tracer - roger that," Oxton said, towards hers, in a voice a little more like Tracer's.

"I screwed up, Tracer. I... god, I thought she was dead in the rubble, like everyone else. Seeing her again after all these years... I wasn't ready. And if I'm going to play this role, I need to be at least a little ready for anything. So - I apologise to you, too."

Lena lifted another layer of the web, and a little bit of a smile crept out. "Roger that." She blew out her breath. "Guess none of us were expecting..." She shook her head, and felt a little better, a little less like demonstrating what it meant to be a murder machine, and a little more like a proper Talon assassin. "What d'ya think happened to her? "

Gabe shook his head, slowly, glad to see a little more of Venom in those gold eyes, and just a little surprised by that feeling. "I really, really don't know. Ana never used to be so..."

Fareeha stirred herself from her medical bunk. "...Ana?" she said, "...who...?"

Angela gently intervened to help her wife. "Awake already?" She checked Mei - still out. "Be careful, I've got you in good shape but I'll need to do more when we are back at the embassy."

"No." The rocketeer struggled upwards. "I heard a voice, and it sounded like... and you said... Ana."

Gabriel, Lena, Winston, and Angela all glanced at each other nervously, and the assassin spoke first. "She's gonna have t'find out. I'd want to."

"Tell me," demanded the flying agent, an intent look on her face. "Tell me what I'm afraid I already know."

Angela's face went a little grim, and a little paler even than usual, but she nodded her agreement. Taking her wife's hand, she looked into her eyes and said, "I will tell you everything, but we will start with the beginning." She braced herself. "Your mother... she is alive."

-----

Morrison looked over the wreckage. Half the cargo destroyed, five fighters injured, one critical, one dead, only one transport running, and now, apparently, this so-called Overwatch - Talon, really, of course - on his tail.

But that isn't what bothered him, or rather, he thought, that's not what bothered him most. He looked down at the dirt, at the wreckage of his tactical visor, and at the one he'd just taken off, the one tied into the neural network inside his head - and back at the one in pieces on the ground.

This... doesn't make any sense, he thought, picking up the wrecked visor. He replaced the one he'd been wearing, and put it through its self-test - it came up fully functional, targeting at one hundred percent, which was pretty damned strange in and of itself, given that it hadn't tested above 85% in three years.

«Did anybody get any pictures of the ambush?» he called out to his surviving team members. «Anybody here armed with a camera, not just guns?»

Leticia pulled hard on something inside a panel, and a second transport roared, glowed, and floated back into operation. «Ha! Damn, I'm good. Sorry, Spooky, you say something?»

«Nice work. Did anybody get video of the attack? Pictures? Anything?»

«Not me, I was getting the shield generator going. Arturo, you got anything?»

Arturo shook his head. «Nothin', sorry. The best shot I got was getting a pistol load into that rocketeer.»

Leticia smiled, grimly. «Nice job. Anybody else?» she called out, but got no positive responses. «Sorry, Jack.»

«Worth a try,» Morrison replied, brusquely.

«That sniper - not the same one, were they?»

«Well spotted. No. Different gun, different MO. God damn, I wish I had some photos.»

«You check the dashcams? Maybe they caught something.»

The dashcams. Of course. They won't have erased themselves yet. What the hell is wrong with me? thought the former Strike Leader, as he half-barked half of a laugh. «Good call.»

The first hadn't recorded anything but the road ahead, and he found the second smashed against a rock next to the road, pieces of windshield scattered around it. Crawling into the wreckage of the last transport - the one beyond repair - he found the third camera's lens had been smashed. But the user interface responded, and he pulled down what video there was into his padd to watch it while the rest of the team moved the surviving cargo to the two functional transports.

Two-side flank attack, he thought, watching the video. Heavy fire from the northeast, sniper and... single infantry on the southwest, maybe. The camera hadn't caught any of the attackers, but had plenty of their work. He watched himself, too, as he came out of the passenger side of the lead transport, face bloodied from the sniper's missed - or was it missed? - shot, the one that wrecked his visor, and blinked as he saw his own face blur, almost mistlike, in the image, then focus again, unbloodied, visor intact.

He replayed the video. It did not change. He played it again. What... what am I looking at here? he thought, touching his tactical visor.

«Any luck?» called Leticia. «We're about ready to move. Bring it with you!»

«No need,» he called back, quietly crushing the camera's control screen, before dropping it on the wreckage of the front seat. «It got trashed early on in the crossfire - nothing worth keeping. Let's head out!»

-----

Ana watched the "so-called Overwatch" strike force lift off, and, once they were out of range, shuddered quietly. What Talon must've done to that poor girl... She shook her head, sad at the thought. And now they're working together? Rayes, that's one thing, black ops do what they must, but how Winston can go along with it... maybe Jack really isn't so...

She stopped herself, mid-thought, remembering her daughter fighting alongside the Talon agent, and considered again. No, she concluded, it can't be all true - not if Fareeha is involved. She's a good girl, she would never go along. Perhaps... perhaps their sniper broke away from Talon. It has happened before.

The eldest sniper packed away the inactive beacon, her rifle, and her dart pistol, crisply snapping the case shut, satisfied for now. And even if Jack's not completely wrong, he's still become a monster. And monsters must be destroyed.

She headed down the hill, towards her camouflaged flyer.

All of them.

solarbird: (korra-excited)

Loading out for a weekend set of shows in Kennewick with Leannan Sidhe – if you’re in the area, here’s the Facebook event, c’mon out! Leannan Sidhe is a trad- and trad-style band, so playing a renfaire is something they do on the regular, even if very little of the music is actually Renaissance-specific, and the weather is supposed to be great. See you there!

Mirrored from Crime and the Blog of Evil. Come check out our music at:
Bandcamp (full album streaming) | Videos | iTunes | Amazon | CD Baby

solarbird: (tracer)
Today was the most badass I have ever been as D.va.

Offence. Volskaya industries. Backfill, with about 2:30 to go; first point taken, first third of second point taken, but they've been flailing. I grab D.va, and they waste about 2:15 just raggedly charging in, ignoring my group-up requests - tho' I did get the enemy to blow a few of their ults. And once I announce that my nerf is up, my team finally groups, mostly because hey, about out of time.

I lead the charge in. I get one and a mech with my nerf. One of our team gets someone else, I don't know who. I get my mecha back, charge in, kill a third.

Their Reaper drops in with his ult and kills FIVE OF US. Quadruple kill. It is, in fact, play of the game.

But he does not get me. I am the only member of my team alive.

I kill every remaining member of the enemy team and take the point in overtime, while the entire rest of my team is dead.

I gold in objective kills, but I don't even card.

I cannot imagine what that looked like to everyone else.
solarbird: (tracer)

Sorry this one took so long. I'm not good at large action sequences, and this chapter was difficult to write, mostly because of that. I was trying to keep it gamelike, in that it would be evocative of a failed charge onto take a point with a payload on it in game, as opposed to a realistic infantry scenario. I hope it works.

If nothing else, it's way longer than most of my chapters, so at least nobody's being short changed. ^_^

[AO3 link]


The opportunity came sooner than expected. An arms shipment, escorted by Los Muertos, task force almost certainly to be led by Jack Morrison - or, as it seems they called him, the white ghost.

Jesse McCree had been the one to catch the rumour, talking with some of his old Deadlock Gang contacts, who, turns out, would be happy if a rival gang did not get to run goods through their territory. And so, they passed the news to him, and he passed it to Amélie, who passed it to Venom, who gave it to Overwatch, and Gabriel Reyes, who built a plan.

Mockingbird lay atop the crest of the hill, silent, even her breath inaudible, even to herself, even she wasn't entirely sure she was bothering to breathe right then, as the small three-vehicle convoy stirred itself, beginning its early-morning trundle out of the two-building ghost town that had once called itself Cloverdale. There had been more here, once, before the climate warmed, but really, it had ended before then, a former bit of a farming town, a little store, a dance pavilion, enough water - just - for a bit of crop and cattle raising, but now, even that last was gone, which is, of course, why they were all where they were.

The sniper had been in her nest since two days before, had watched the convoy trundle its way across the desert and to a stop, loading out into the little stone ruin, and calling it a night. She had not slept; she did not need to, for this watch. Once everyone had tucked themselves in so nicely, so quietly, she'd then confirmed via radio to Gabriel that Jack Morrison was, indeed, in the front truck, and that they were not, in fact, transporting refugees or undocumented workers - there were no innocents to get in the way. Just a simple cargo delivery - maybe the weapons, maybe a side delivery before the main delivery, no way even to know.

Not that it mattered, really.

She watched as the convoy slowly rode its way west, towards her and past burned out soil, past former farm gates, now collapsing along the road, the paint bleached in the sun. She took in a breath, just enough to speak. "They're on their way."

Gabriel's voice in her ear. "Do you have the target?"

Lena allowed herself the smallest of smirks. Less than a kilometre. No breeze, at all. Crystal clear skies. Do I have the target. Honestly, Gabe. But she kept it to herself. "Target confirmed and moving into go/no go. Do I have go?"

Reyes ran through the numbers one more time in his head. Everyone in position for the ambush. A lot more fighters on the Los Muertos side - more than they expected, and it bothered him - but only one hard target. The gang side wouldn't be trying for a capture - they'd be shooting for kills, without hesitation - but Overwatch had surprise on their side.

"Nearing optimal range, Gabe. Go or no go?"

Who knows when we'll get intel even this good again, he decided. "Action confirmed. All team, on my mark - go."

Venom - no, Mockingbird - smiled the spider's smile, and pulled the trigger. Morrison's head jerked to the side as the tactical visor went flying out across the desert in pieces, and he swore, loudly, in Spanish, blinded by his own blood, but not really hurt, despite the proximity of the bullet. The transport vehicle swerved, blocking the road forward, but did not fly out of control, and seconds later he was shouting orders to his team as the Overwatch group moved in from the northeast, from the dried-up spring.

"Visor down," the sniper confirmed, as Mei threw up a wall behind the convoy, Gabriel lay down fire blowing out the front vehicle's tires, and the unlabelled Overwatch carrier blared its orders to drop weapons and be commandeered. Pharah charged into the air, letting loose with a series of rockets aimed at vehicle engines, as Mockingbird readied for a spray of long-range discouragement fire from her position, to keep the grunts under cover. She grinned as she watched the Los Muertos gangsters circle their vehicles and swarm for weapons, and then her grin froze as Jack darted away from her sight, without a visor, then reappeared on the other side of the transport vehicle, with one.

What th'...?! She looked back towards the wreckage of the visor. Yes, there, pieces, still on the ground. She called into comms, "Gabe, he has a second visor somehow, watch it!" just as Jack triggered the device, visual overlay screen appearing almost instantly, knocking Pharah out of the air just as she'd disabled the third vehicle. Mockingbird adjusted her sights and took a second shot, surely hitting him dead on, but somehow apparently not as he just kept shooting through the visor, after briefly jerking to the left.

She waited for a third shot, and Jack's head popped up again, again through the front transport, behind two windows. Mockingbird reacted instantly, and fired. Her vision seemed to blur, and suddenly, it was a Los Muertos grunt splayed out across the sand, her head smashed, and Jack Morrison was still firing.

Nobody's that lucky, she thought, coolly. Something's going on.

Los Muertos got a shield generator running as Mei threw up another wall while taking bullets to the shoulder and chest, saving Gabriel, who had also been hit and hurt by the barrage of bullets. Pharah limped back into the air, got off a single rocket knocking Morrison down, and went down again herself almost immediately, Mercy flying to her wife's side. Gabriel, Mockingbird, and - a moment later - Mercy's fire kept most of the rest of the Los Muertos fighters ducking for cover, as Winston leapt down, shield in place over the wounded Mei, Tesla cannon keeping braver Los Muertos back, as Athena flew in as pickup for the injured.

"Gabriel, Tracer here," Mockingbird shouted into comms, trying to force some emotion back into her voice. "Mockingbird's hit this guy in the head three times and he just shakes it off, something is very wrong. We need to..."

And then Jack fell to the ground, unconscious, and an older woman's voice came over the Overwatch comms, saying, "He's down, but it won't last more than 30 seconds. Get your wounded out while you can, and regroup at my position. Tracking beacon enabled."

-----

"A second visor?!" Gabriel - limping, but mobile - looked incredulously at Mockingbird as the small Overwatch strike force mended its wounds at the beacon site deep in the hills to the north. "He can't have a second visor. It's unique to each soldier. It was wired into his brain."

"Don't care," insisted the woman in black and green. "I shot the first one off, just like we planned it. It was on the ground, in pieces." She folded her arms. "My sight takes pictures, I can show you."

"But a second visor - that's not possible," Gabriel insisted.

"I know I hit him. I know I did. Three times. There's something we've missed, Gabe. This should've been easy and it was a disaster."

"You look very familiar," said the older woman with the beacon, looking with narrowed eyes at the younger sniper.

Mockingbird blinked, and looked over to the older woman, finally realising who she was seeing. "...no question of it on my side," she said, recovering. "The legendary Ana Amari, in the flesh. You're supposed to be dead. What the hell, mate? And how'd you get on our comms?"

Gabriel glanced away from Mockingbird and brushed dust off his hands, looking resolutely unsurprised. "Ana, this is our sniper specialist, callsign Mockingbird. Mockingbird, this is Ana Amari, apparently not dead."

Ana snorted at her former Blackwatch friend, and gestured over to Mockingbird. "You think that can replace me?"

"You have been dead since 2069," said Winston, stepping in between the new and the old, "as far as we knew." He gave Reyes a look, a look that said they would be talking about Reyes's lack of surprise in the very near future. "She's an independent contractor willing to work with us, and we're happy to have her service."

"I know that kit," said the Egyptian, with a sideways glance back to the younger woman. "And I know that blue tinge. Working with Talon, are we, now? Maybe Jack's not so crazy as I thought."

"Not with Talon, luv," Mockingbird lied. "But I always buy from the best. No second chances in this game. 'Cept for you, apparently. And Jack." She looked around at Angela and Gabriel and Ana, and frowned. "And apparently all you old lot."

Amari glanced disdainfully at the young assassin, then returned to ignoring her, looking back to Gabriel. "And where's the so-called Hero of Old London supposed to be, then?"

Mockingbird glared, anger a flash across her face. No, she told herself. Lena's not here. Ana's trying to provoke you. Realising that, she found she didn't even need to bring up the web further to keep control. It's a game. She knows, she just wants us to admit it. Spill the beans, grams? Not likely.

"We all thought it was for the best if she stayed out of any direct action involving the man who left her to die in the Slipstream." He looked directly into the sniper's eyes. "Knowing you're here, I'd say that was the right call."

"Afraid she'd lose her cool, get hurt?" She made a little unimpressed sound, a kind of pffft. "And yet here you hand whatever they've made of her" - she waved at Mockingbird, without looking - "a sniper rifle. You're fools."

Lena almost spoke up, then almost laughed, but kept her expression flat. Nice try, she thought. "So I shouldn't ask for your autograph, then?"

Winston shook his head at Mockingbird's verbal jabs, and Gabriel crossed his arms, with a frown. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Ana. More importantly - where the hell have you been all these years?"

"Really? You're going to keep up this laughable facade?"

"Whatever. You gonna tell us where you've been all this time?"

Amari glared. "No. But I will give you this." She pulled a small memory card out of a coat pocket. "It's video and notes from a... previous attempt to solve the Jack Morrison problem. If you're going to try to kill him, I need you not to make things worse."

"We aren't trying to kill him," Winston said, taking the card. "We're trying to bring him to justice."

Amari spat at the ground. "There's no justice for what he did, or for what he's become. I thought you understood that."

Well, thought Mockingbird, there's one place we agree. She found she didn't like the agreement. "That's what I thought, too. Maybe I ought t'reconsider the point."

"Does it always make this much noise? Maybe it should be reprogrammed again."

"ENOUGH OF THIS." Mercy glided down from the flat spot on the hillside above, where she had been tending to Mei and Pharah, watching since Ana showed herself, stunned to see her mother-in-law, of all people, reappear from the dead - not her way, but alive and well the entire time.

"Angela, why are you mixed up in this idiocy? I thought you'd know better."

The field medic marched over to the old military officer, and slapped her across the face, hard, staggering her back. "You dare show your face? You dare act like this to my friends, after what you have put us through?!"

"Woah!" interjected Mockingbird, jumping forward to restrain the doctor. "Angela, no! It's fine, she's just horrible!"

"No," she said, looking back, and shaking her arms free, "it is not fine!" She turned back to the old soldier, and pointed to Pharah, unconscious, but recovering. "She mourned you. You ignored her as a child and she loved you anyway and then you died and she put it behind her and now you are here and alive and she is here and wounded and you have not even acknowledged her existence?!"

"I've done what has been necessary, and I've stayed out of the way of the medic while she works. Fareeha will understand that."

"Will she? I hope not! But I will make sure she knows. I will make sure she knows everything. Including how horribly you have just abused our Mockingbird. 'It?! '" She shook herself, as though fluffing feathers she did not have, except in her wings. "You call her an it?! She is a person, not a tool, and you have become a monster."

Quietly surprised, Lena's heart tore, just a little, at the medic's furious defence. "Doc, really, it's fine, she's just digging..."

"I know what she's doing," Mercy said, not looking at Lena. "And I don't care why." She turned to the openly astonished Reyes and Winston. "We should get the wounded out of American territory as soon as possible. They will not be happy with our actions today."

"I agree," said Reyes, taking the opportunity. "Ana, we can pick this up later. Do any of your old dropboxes work?"

"No. Do yours?"

"Boxburg does."

"I'll leave a contact point there, then."

"Thanks. And... thanks for helping out."

"You're welcome. Maybe next time we can work together, make sure the grown-ups are in charge."

Mockingbird's face showed absolutely no sign of emotion, and her hands did not tighten visibly on her rifle.

"We'll talk later," said the former Blackwatch head. "Team - back to the ship. Mockingbird, give Mercy some help with Mei; Winston, I wouldn't mind a little help myself. Let's roll out."

The Lunar gorilla offered his friend an arm, as Mockingbird turned towards the Chinese scientist with a curt "acknowledged." Behind Venom's mask, beneath the web, the assassin roiled viciously, but no hint of that storm made it outside.

Maybe I've got more than one problem to solve, she thought, as she guided the semi-sedated Mei up off the ground. Maybe I've got two or three.

solarbird: (widow)
I got to play a lot of Widowmaker today (three sessions!) and I just have to write down a couple of moments.

First: backfill on a doomed team, I came in as Widowmaker and made them competitive. We still lost, but they went from being steamrolled - apparently, the entire game, given how much time was remaining when I arrived and how close the enemy payload was to destination - to a serious goddamn problem. We held them nearly five minutes, despite being less than five metres from destination when I arrived. It took a large ult stack to beat us, too.

I've long been able to shift games like that for a while as Tracer or D.va or Pharah, but I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've managed that big of a swing as Widowmaker.

Second, towards the end, I had three games against the same enemy Widowmaker, username something like "animevslife" or somesuch, but it doesn't matter. What matters is that she was completely outclassed, by me. I was headshotting her at will, and had like five just of her in one game. (I was also carding a lot, and the only member of my team to card in the last game.)

It's not that they were a terrible team, or even that she was a terrible Widow - she was not entirely unproductive - but she had to stay the fuck away from me, because I would just end her on sight. I've been the better Widowmaker several times before, of course, but this was just not even close, and wonderful.
solarbird: (tracer)

This is a semi-sequel to "I Could Murder a Chippie," inspired in part by the fact that my gym's colours are UW Huskies colours, which is to say, Talon purple, and Overwatch gold, and that had to show up somewhere. [AO3 link]


"Th' hell?" said Venom, as the treadmill she was on - black and purple, like so much Talon gear, like so much Talon corporate culture - suddenly gained gold highlights.

"Ha!" said Tracer, as the treadmill she was on - black and gold, like so much Overwatch gear, like so much Overwatch corporate culture - suddenly gained purple highlights.

Venom looked to her left, the previously unoccupied treadmill now occupied by her mirror image, almost, hair almost the same, eyes almost the same, accelerator stripes most definitely not the same, or even there at all.

Tracer looked to her right, the previously unoccupied treadmill now occupied by her mirror image, almost, hair almost the same, eyes almost the same, accelerator missing, but she has thin stripes showing on her shoulders and legs, faintly shining blue.

"Hiya!" said Tracer, beating Venom to the punch. "Somehow I just knew you'd have a gym on Filicudi."

"You again..." Venom's mind raced, as she thought back to the impossible luncheon she'd shared with the Manic Pixie Murder Machine. "...that was real?"

"Kinda!" chirped Tracer. "As real as interdimensional transits can be, anyway. Thought I'd see if I could set up the right conditions and meed up again. You remember me, so I guess it worked!"

Venom reached over and tried, and failed, to touch Tracer. Tracer did the same, in reverse. At least she's not really here, thought the assassin. That's a relief. "So... your Winston's somewhere off... in some impossible direction from here, I guess?"

"Yah! Well, yeah, I guess so, but not to me. He's been helpin' out, but it's by remote. We've had this set up a while - it's the first time it's actually worked!"

Venom looked crossly at her Overwatch alternate-dimension counterpart. "So. Your Overwatch doesn't work with your Talon, does it?"

"Nope!"

"So what's this about, then? Intel gathering?"

"Kinda?"

"Won't matter, y'know. Apparently, our kind of Talon is pretty rare."

"Yeah, I've only seen a few of your lot. Tekhartha always dies, 'cept when it's you... which is..." she looked down at her treadmill, and let it coast to a stop. "...why I wanted to apologise."

Venom blinked, letting her treadmill slow to a stop as well. "...wot?"

"I'm sorry. For calling you evil. I've been thinkin' about that fight we had, and..." She let out a deep breath, and took another one. "I'm sorry. I was wrong. I mean, you're still assassins, and I still can't go with that, but..." She shook her head back and forth, slowly. "Bloody hell, love, you saved Tekhartha Mondatta. D'ya know how rare that is?"

"We've... kind of got that idea, yeah." Venom didn't say that mostly, worlds like theirs, they ended up without her, or with a Venom that didn't question the mission, with Widowmaker taking the shot. With atomic fire and ash. With the war that truly did end all wars.

But not here, she thought. Not us. Not now.

"So..." continued Tracer, "...I'm sorry."

Venom shook off the things that could've been, but weren't, and smirked, but with a little warmth to it. "You went to these lengths for an apology? Maybe you're not so bad as I thought, Tracer. I accept."

Tracer smiled her genuine smile, the soft one, the one she saved for people she really, truly liked. "Thanks."

"But you said you wanted intel. Sorta."

Tracer blushed furiously. "...yeah."

What's that blush? Venom wondered. "G'wan then..."

"Tell me..." she looked nervously off to the side, "...about Amélie."

"Wot." said Venom. This can't be what I think it is, she thought, or maybe it might. "I thought you and Emily were..."

"We are!" Tracer protested. "And we're happy! But..."

"...you've seen some of those universes where it's all three of us together, haven't you?"

"Yeah."

"And y'want that."

Tracer looked down, and her voice became very quiet. "I'd... I don't know. I don't know what I want. But I know I'd given up on her, and I... I think that was wrong."

Must do, thought Venom, to poke at spacetime about it. She sympathised, of course. How could she not? But might as well have some fun with her opposite. "Well, first things first. You have another apology to make, luv."

"For wot?"

"'Aggressively overstyled shitehawk' ring any bells?"

Tracer laughed. "Ah, c'mon, mate, that was a joke and you knew it."

Venom smirked. "Apologise anyway."

"Done," the Overwatch agent replied, laughing. "I'm sorry. I don't know what is wrong with me, but I'm sorry."

Venom grinned her famous half-grin, and looked off to the side, where Tracer could not see. "Amélie, Em, you think we should help her?"

Em?! thought Tracer. "What?! "

"Surprise!"

"What?! When?! "

Venom beamed, broadly. "We placed a discreet notice for a private top-class aircraft mechanic. Guess who showed up?"

"Wha... wha..." Tracer quite literally vibrated in place. Venom didn't think she could do that with her kind of accelerator, but, apparently, she could.

"Is that a question?"

"...yes?"

Venom just laughed. "It's fate, Tracer. Get used to it, it's probably gonna happen! Mostly just a matter of when."

"But luv, where do I start? How do I get past the Widowmaker and free Amélie?"

Venom frowned. "Y'want a serious answer? Y'won't like it."

Tracer nodded.

"Stop thinkin' they're different."

Tracer blinked. "But they are, Widow's not even - well, fine, not yours, but mine, Talon..."

"Doesn't matter," interrupted the junior assassin. "Got news, mate. If you can't love the Widowmaker, you can't love Amélie."

From out of range of the interface field, but not out of range of the movement of air to carry sound, came the senior assassin's voice. "It's true. Even when they think they've built someone completely new, they have not. They have only forced changes, and even then, fewer than they think. The foundation remains. It must, for the process to work."

"Woah," breathed Tracer. She knew the elder assassin had to be there, somewhere, but hearing that voice sent tingles down her skin. "...Widowmaker?"

Amélie stepped into what she suspected - correctly - was the area of field effect. She put down the free weights, wiped her face with a towel, and turned to the tangerine-clad Overwatch agent. "Hello, Tracer."

Tracer's breath stopped and she blinked, her mouth half open for a moment before she was able to close it, and she shook her head. Venom and Widowmaker exchanged the briefest of meaningful glances - oh, she's got it bad, doesn't she? - before Tracer collected herself, with a "...nice to see you, luv." The teleporter swallowed. "Even though you're not..."

"...your Widowmaker?" interjected Amélie.

"Yah."

"Neither is she," said Tracer.

Widowmaker nodded her agreement. "She is a person, cherie, and she is not yours."

Tracer took the point, and, for once, knew when to shut up. Amélie picked up on the silence, and granted her a small smile. "Ah, you already begin to understand, yes? She is real - as real as I am. As we all are, every one of us. Just as every Tracer is a person - even the most dedicated members of the worst kinds of Talon - so is every Widowmaker, no matter what she may seem to you."

"So she's still in there..."

"No," Widowmaker said, frowning a little, and crossing her arms. "Understand this. She is there, right there, in front of you, as I am now. Perhaps under various kinds of influence, perhaps traumatised, perhaps parts of her are muted, perhaps parts of the old her are even lost, perhaps she is even a new person built from the old - but no matter what has happened, she is that person now."

Tracer's eyes widened, as her thoughts flashed to all the ways she'd tried to talk to her universe's Widowmaker, and how offers to help, to undo what they'd done, to bring back Amélie, always backfired.

"...I've been..."

Widowmaker smiled.

"...telling her we'd do the same thing Talon did."

"Exactement," Widowmaker bowed, her arms now spread apart, as if on stage.

"Oh. Oh, oh, no," Tracer said, burying her face in her hands. "What've I done? "

"Hey, hey," said Venom, reaching forward uselessly, to comfort her opposite. "It's all right. She still talk t'you?"

Venom looked back up, towards the voice. "Yeh. Sometimes."

"Then," said Widowmaker, "I think it is not too late. I cannot imagine any version of myself that would talk to you if she had, how do you say, written you down?"

"Y'think?"

"Also, you are still alive, are you not?"

Tracer snorted. "Don't underestimate me, luv."

"Do not underestimate her, either." Widowmaker nodded towards Venom, whose accelerator stripes suddenly shined brightly, and then she grabbed Tracer off her treadmill, hand strong and oh so very solid. "Or me."

Tracer shrieked, and found herself unable to teleport away, as Widowmaker leaned forward, golden eyes bright, the spider bearing down on her terrified, halfway hypnotised prey. "Understand. I do this for her. Not for you. Can you love the spider? "

Tracer stared back into those gold eyes, and that cold blue face, overcome with fear... and then, suddenly, felt no longer afraid. She reached forward, pulled her arms around the Widowmaker, and kissed her, briefly but fiercely. Pulling back, she held the spider's gaze, and said, firmly, "...I can."

Amélie smiled coquettishly, and let Tracer go. "She does not taste like you, beloved," as Venom and Emily both laughed.

"They never do," said Emily, from outside the field.

"They never...?" replied Tracer, confused.

"You're not the first Tracer to come asking these questions, luv," Venom said, with something between a grin and a smirk. Her glow faded to normal, and Tracer returned to her insubstantial state, at least, for the Talon crew and gear. "All patched up. G'wan back home."

"And good luck!" she heard Emily call, from outside the field. "Most of us are pretty poly, but some of us aren't. Don't hurt your Emily, or I'll come after you myself!"

Tracer looked towards the direction of Emily's voice. "Not for anything, Em. Not for anything."

"I'll hold you to that," she shouted, as the field began to fade, and then collapsed.

Tracer dropped and sat on the treadmill's belt as the gateway failed, the last of the stored charge exhausted, patting the ground, the floor, the chairs, making sure she was still here, still home. She'd not expected to be grabbed completely into their reality like that, and she shivered at the thought of losing her Emily, her Overwatch, her world. That was... a lot riskier than I imagined! she thought. Winston'll want to know.

"So," she said, after a moment, looking over outside the field boundaries, to her Emily. "You still sure about this?"

Emily "Kestrel" Oxton raised an eyebrow. "After seeing you and her kiss?" The flying agent smiled a broad, bold smile. "I am. More than ever."

solarbird: (widow)
So when I got the smooth as silk trophy, okay, I got it, but it seemed cheap. Not much of an air shot. It was one, of course, but still.

Just now tho'? Archetypal. Three storeys up in the air, Eichenwalde, headshot, on Pharah, who was also in flight.

Now I feel like I've earned it.
solarbird: (widow)
Okay, lunchtime Overwatch today? Exquisite.

I got with a good team pretty early, and we grouped up and just... the enemies of Talon were eliminated. Thoroughly.

I carded or got play of the game every. single. game., including as Widowmaker. I came this close >< to four-golding as her on defence at Horizon, and still had three golds and carded for it. I also carded as her in Volskaya, for kill streak. (11. No deaths. No objective kills or time, either, because the enemy never set foot on the objective. Their Pharah got close, once. I stopped her, and she started hiding from me. They were terrible.)

The game at Horizon, though - hoooooooo. I had a one on one with a Genji who really, really, really should not have lost a solo melee fight with Widowmaker in close quarters, but wow he sure did.

I was holding the point solo when he charged in with his primary attack - and, conveniently, hit my mine. Then it was just machine gun (and another mine, I had one ready) vs. shuriken and I took him apart. Three of my team rushed back to help just as I killed him, and they came up the stairs to see me standing over his body. Mercy threw heals at me as they just stopped for a moment, all, "...oh. We thought you might've needed help."

I didn't hit my laugh emit, but I certainly should've.

It wasn't just Widowmaker, though. Mercy (before we teamed up, a smaller version of the group with more weak links, I made them competitive), Pharah (which is when we had some weak links replaced and formed a team), Tracer, Widowmaker, D.va - I was just in charge in all incarnations. By the time I hit Widowmaker, it was like the assumption was that I was going to be fine. Then I proved that correct.

I can make a weak team competitive. But when I'm really on my game... I can make a good team an unstoppable force.
solarbird: (made her from parts)

Hiya!

Wow, it’s been a while since I’ve posted here, hasn’t it? Well, it’s been that kind of year. I warned everyone that the band blog would get a lot more political, but instead, I haven’t even had time to write political posts. Take political actions, yes. (And also, write a lot of short fiction about assassins. One takes one’s stress relief where one finds it.)

But posts? No. And this isn’t one, either. This is about music stuff!

When I was Festival Mémoire et Racines in Quebec this year, I picked up a cute little noisemaker. It reminds me a little of a kokiriko, but much simpler and smaller, and played very differently. But it was radically underengineered, and the two small dowels used as spacers between clackers were absolutely not going to last – one even broke before I could get it back home.

Which is where attoparsec comes in. Matthew said he could totally make replacements out of brass for me, and that he’d actually kind of enjoy doing such a simple project to unreasonably unnecessary degrees of precision.

To wit:

Looks great, doesn’t it? The metal bits make it look so much more like an actual non-toy effects toy, rather than the Can$10 bit of fluff it is.

So… yeah! Not something I made or even fixed but something which someone fixed for me. Yay! Thanks. ^_^

Mirrored from Crime and the Blog of Evil. Come check out our music at:
Bandcamp (full album streaming) | Videos | iTunes | Amazon | CD Baby

solarbird: (tracer)
I have now doubled multiple starting weights. I have five weights at half the maximum the machine allows, or higher.

I'm gonna need a Zarya icon f'srs.

Basically I'm spending a little over an hour on the machines on the days when I do workouts. So far, that's been 4-5 days a week; to make schedules work better, I'm going to have to drop that to pretty much just four days a week. But I can deal with that, I think.

Optimally, the full workout consists of a mile on (quasi-)balance beam, a mile of hill walking, and the weights. It takes about an hour and 45 minutes, including changing clothes and stuff.

To be clear, the balance beam isn't a true balance beam; it's just that the 1mi each way walk to the gym doesn't have sidewalks but does have elevated drainage curbs about half the time (like this) which are about the width of a balance beam, and they're on uneven terrain and up and down hills and are worn and broken in a bunch of places to make it more of a challenge. So I figure that balances it out.

I'm already starting to run just a little of the balance beam part; I want to run more of it. I don't think I'd've climbed to the top of that exhibitor prop if I hadn't been doing all this. That is my best memory of PAX - I had the altitude record for the show. Fuck yeah parkour is what.
solarbird: (molly-kill-everyone-with-sticks)
Okay, after the Bitter Lake Home Depot telling me that they've never heard of this vinyl that I want installed in this apartment - the vinyl I'm looking at the photo of, a photo that I took at their Home Depot a week ago, with the SKU and everything - and getting so much you-don't-know-what-you're-talking-about pushback I hang up on them...

...I try again at 205th/Aurora Village...

...and am informed they WILL NOT INSTALL THE FLOORING THEY STOCK.

They will only install special-order flooring.

WHAT. THE. FUCKING. FUCK.
solarbird: (fascist sons o bitches)
The Nashville Statement - a new declaration from the Council on Biblical Manhood and Womanhood, a fundamentalist/evangelical working group - is about making anti-LGBT activism a core part of faith. It's explicitly about making anti-LGBT animus a required belief in order to be what they consider Christian.

Article 10 - excuse me, they want to sound all Roman on the website, so "Article X" - is key:

WE AFFIRM that it is sinful to approve of homosexual immorality or transgenderism and that such approval constitutes an essential departure from Christian faithfulness and witness.

WE DENY that the approval of homosexual immorality or transgenderism is a matter of moral indifference about which otherwise faithful Christians should agree to disagree.

Now, fundamentalism/evangelism is not like Catholicism, of course, where the Pope says a thing and off y'go. This statement is more like an influential imam issuing a fatwa. It's not legally binding. But it's important to remember that fundamentalism as we know it started with a not-dissimilar declaration of tenants a little over a century ago, and I think it's pretty clear that they had that document in mind.

So - this matters. Not for the week or month or year, but for the longer term. Let's go over the key points.

First, it's about asserting that being queer is being in active opposition to God.

From Article XIII: "WE DENY that the grace of God in Christ sanctions self-conceptions that are at odds with God’s revealed will."

Secondly, it's about removing neutrality - you cannot agree to disagree and still be Christian.

They're declaring that hatred of LGBT people and opposition to the rights of LGBT people is core and key to their faith - that people who disagree with this statement, who are neutral or pro-LGBT rights, are not Christians. At all.

Third, it's about making opposition to the existence of us queers a multi-generational activity.

As they've been losing ground in younger generations, they've been struggling to find a way to continue the fight against us. This is where they've gone - making it part of the religion itself. It is a blueprint showing how they intend to renew their fight against our existence.

Finally, it's about making civil rights a zero-sum game, in explicit, foundational, and existential terms.

They are declaring that laws recognising us, recognising our relationships, recognising who we are, are direct affronts to and attacks on God, and on their religion, and on their right to be Christians. To allow civil rights for queers is to deny them their faith. (See Article XI - they're using the word "speak" there, but they talk with laws, when they can.) This isn't really new? But now it's formalised. It has moved from inchoate politics to cornerstone of faith, and that has weight.

By making anti-queer activism core and critical to their Christianity, they're saying that recognising us is a direct attack on their existence as Christians. They're making our existence antithetical to themselves. They're deciding that this is an existential fight - for them.

This statement is a forthright and deliberate statement of eternal opposition to the existence of me and mine.

This statement is a declaration of total war.
solarbird: (widow)
The Widowmaker buff has hit the console. It's being thrown out there as a minor buff, centred around mobility, with the grapple cooldown being cut from 12 to 8 seconds. And that is fairly minor (but welcome) - but the mine change... holy hell, team, this is a fuckin' game changer.

As long as I've been playing Widowmaker, which isn't very long, I've been ... pretty much uniquely aggro with my mines. They're part of my offensive weapon toolkit. Enemy team gets one as soon as they leave spawn, they get another as soon as they touch the payload or reach the choke, they get as many more as I can stuff in their faces, etc. I got the award spray for mine use the first day I played Widow seriously in quickplay, and I've seen very few Widowmakers come as close to the kind of harassment I dish out with the mines.

But now

BUT NOW

...it turns on wallhacks for affected players.

I'm seeing at least parts of teams all the goddamn time now. It is nuts. Suddenly, no one escapes from my sight is serious fucking business, and I am going to goddamn town with it.

Honestly, I read that note in the update and my eyes got big 'cause I realised right away - this is quietly massive. Once other Widowmakers start figuring out how this works with the mines, every one of 'em is going to start dropping mines expressly for this purpose. Good teams already aim for 'em, but there's only so much they can do.

Also, the Junkrat buff is a huge deal. Look for divebombing Junkrats from above, 'cause they're gonna be raining down on you. One of my housemates is a Junkrat main and he was already a pretty srs bsns divecomp player? ("You play Junkrat like Genji, what the hell?") But this double-mines thing - yeah. Watch out.

separately

Aug. 29th, 2017 12:07 am
solarbird: (tracer)
Weightlifting is paying off quickly. It's been too long, and I've missed it. It makes me feel all liquidy. Right now, I'm two days on, one day off, doing two slow reps of a bunch of different weight exercises. When I can do 15 and 15 (reps), I consider myself to have achieved a weight; when I can do 15 and 20, I move up to the next weight.

I've been going about three and a half weeks. Every category has advanced, some by a lot. (I set starting weights with a trainer.) Some lifts have gone up literally 50% - I think that's more re-limbering than muscle gain, but it's some of both, I can definitely feel it.

The gym is a mix of Widowmaker purple and Overwatch gold. I am not even making this up, it's just true. Mind you, that's also UW purple and gold, and I figured that was why those colours, but turns out they're based in New Hampshire or something? So it's entirely unrelated and coincidental. But I like it, it's in walking distance, and I kind of pretend it's a joint Talon-Overwatch facility in some AU. I'm from the Talon side, of course.

Also, Zarya is in my head a lot, mostly saying, "STRONG." Fitness goals. I WANT TO HUG YOU LIKE BIG FUZZY SIBERIAN BEAR! Not there yet, but closer than I was. XD
solarbird: (widow)
Widowmaker has a blowing-a-kiss emote. It made me irrationally happy to not just be flirted with but to get that kiss pre-game tonight. Yeah.

Had a quintuple kill as Pharah that did not get Play of the Game yesterday, somehow. But today, had an announced quadruple-kill followed immediately by getting D.va as she popped out of her mech, so really, a second quintuple, and that was mostly solo work. (All five kills, including the D.va, showed up in Play of the Game footage. And yeah, that one was POTG, and I knew it would be as soon as I did it.)

I may have been kind of inspired. That Widowmaker stuck with me for a while.

Also, yesterday, I got off a couple of quick headshots as Wids, and our team's Tracer said, "You can be my wingman anytime!" and I'm all like "a spring wedding would be good is that good would a spring wedding be good?" XD

(tracemaker trash 5eva APPARENTLY)

Hm, what else? One-on-one killed Genji as Widowmaker today - he was trying to flank us again, and was patterning pretty hard - which completed a Team Kill. 90% of the damage with a not-quite-critical headshot, the rest machine gun fire. (Defence, Temple of Anubus.) That was fun.

Also, a few days ago, as Widowmaker, on defence again, at Hanamura, three quick solo kills, all scoped, all single shots, triple kill notification - and it also wasn't play of the game. Damn, that felt nice. At least it made my highlights reel.

I'm noticing I will do a lot of flanker-killing on defence with Widowmaker. It's a good role. Doesn't tend to get you the most medals - though sometimes it will - but it's a good role from a strategy standpoint for sure. Paul has said that while I don't always get the highest kill count as Widowmaker, I'm getting all strategically important kills.

On the downside, I think I go into Widow 76 mode a little too quickly. This is where I'm basically playing her as Soldier 76, with machine-gun fire and poison grenades. It's much more effective than people expect it to be, partly because nobody expects Widowmaker on the point, much less her shooting you in the face with machine-gun fire at a full run, much much less for her to be throwing poison grenades in your face. As a result, I do a lot of golding in kills until they they go WILL SOMEBODY STOP THAT FUCKING WIDOWMAKER?! at which point I start getting triple-teamed all the time. And that's not something I know how to handle well enough yet.

But I'll get there.

I'm thinking I'll play her in competitive mode in Season VI. Not full time, of course, that's silly - but in appropriate situations. We'll see.
solarbird: (tracer)

[AO3 link]


Mercy sat, shaking, alone, at her desk, her composure collapsing the moment Lena Oxton had walked out the door.

Mein gott, had I not known, and had I needed to revive her...

She shuddered, and swallowed, hard. She did not like thinking about what might've happened. Not to anyone. Particularly not to Lena.

But now, I do know.

Lena Oxton never really did really read medical documents she signed. In this case - as far as Dr. Ziegler was concerned - that was a very, very good thing, and she pulled up files from the deep scan which had been triggered as soon as Venom acknowledged that the previous documents still applied.

Now, thought the doctor, let's see how you are made...

Her hand stopped, just above the console surface, just above the file. ...No, she thought.

She blinked, surprised at herself. I've done this with everyone else, she thought. Why not her?

No, her mind insisted, again, at war with herself. This is different.

God, she wanted to. So much. So very, desperately much. It was all right there, flagged, sorted, available, ready to open, ready to be known. But...

She would be so angry.

Angela Ziegler leaned against her desk, hands over her eyes. Do not be foolish, doctor, she told herself. She's a patient. She can not be anything else. Your job as a combat medic is to keep her alive, whatever it takes.

And yet. No.

If the not knowing ached - and it did, viciously - the unreadiness for disaster ached even more. Losing Lena, or Tracer, or Venom, or whatever she called herself today? She shook her head, firmly. I can't. I won't. It is unacceptable.

And so, she took a deep breath, and compromised with herself. She pulled the dataset off the scanner, onto a small card, securely deleting the original. Then, she physically moved the card over to the nanosurgeon programmer for her Caduceus staff, and inserted that card into a small slot, compiling the deep-scan data set into the knowledge base for the Overwatch agent known as Mockingbird.

Compilation completed, she looked at the card, now removed, sitting in her hand. The original data, the raw scan, not the abstracted assemblage merged into so much other data, unrecoverable - or essentially so - from the nanosurgeons, and even then not comprehensibly, at least not to human minds - available, intact, only here, in one tiny chip.

So much I could learn, she thought. They'd done impossible things at Talon, and the key to it lay in her hand.

She slid the small protect tab along the edge of the medical data card, and firmly pressed her fingers against the centre. The chip briefly glowed, hot, as it destroyed itself, and then, she threw it away.

As long as they know, she thought, putting her hand gratefully on the nanosurgeon farm, watching as it built a special nanite cluster just for the Talon sniper, that is... good enough. For now.

solarbird: (tracer)
"Hey, luv! Venom here."

1. What was the last thing you put in your mouth?

"Tea. A nice tippy assam, with one sugar, and milk."
[OOC: actually true IRL, too]

2. Where was your profile picture taken?

"Oh bloody hell, I'm not sure. Not Numbani. Not Oasis. The Temple of Anubus? I think there. Somewhere hot."

3. Worst pain you've ever experienced?

"The Slipstream. No question."

4. Who was the last person to make you laugh?

"Really laugh? Amélie, at Bakeoven. Not sayin' why, a proper lady don't kiss and tell."

5. How late did you stay up last night?

"About 2am. We work a lot of nights, y'know."

6. If you could move somewhere else, where would it be?

"We move 'round a lot already! Alicudi's probably my favourite place in the whole world. But Norway's nice too!"

7. Ever been kissed under fireworks?

"'Who's ready for some fireworks?' has more than one meaning, luv." ◕‿◕

8. Which of your Facebook friends lives closest to you?

"Wot's Facebook?"

9. How do you feel about turkey burgers?

"That some American thing? Sounds awful!"

10. When was the last time you cried?

"D'ya ever cry when you're happy? I do."

11. Who took your profile photo?

"Amé, pretty sure."

12. Who was the last person you took a picture with?

"People in our line of work try to avoid pictures, y'know. But we took a group shot at Overwatch HQ a few days ago - so... most of the crew!"

13. What's your favourite season?

"Depends where I am! Alicudi, spring. London, Norway - summer. Dorado? Absolutely midwinter."

14. If you could have any career.

"What's better than bein' a happy assassin? Nothin'!"

fighter pilot

15. Do you think relationships are ever worth it?

"YES."

16. If you could talk to ANYONE right now who would it be?

"Jack Morrison? But mostly, I'd let the bullets do the talking."

17. Are you a good influence?

"Define 'good.' I mean, I like t'think so. I believe in what we're doin', or I wouldn't be doin' it."

18. Does pineapple belong on pizza?

"Might as well ask does pizza belong on pineapple, if y'ask me, and no. Barmy questions."

19. You have the remote, what channel are you watching?

"I never have the remote. Amélie's the media junkie, not me."

20. Who do you think will fill this out?

"Amélie might. Hey, Amélie!"

"What?"

"Come do this meme!"

"...what?"

"C'mon, it's fun."

"You are serious? Really?"

"Yeh, c'mon, play along."

"We are on a mission."

"With nothin' to do for another two hours."

"I am planning."

"You're always planning, love. C'mon, I already did it."

The elder assassin sighed. "Oh, very well."

1. What was the last thing you put in your mouth?

"Why is this asking about our sex lives?"

Venom giggled. "Other than that, love."

Widowmaker waved her hands. "I... the tip of my pen." She chews objects when she is nervous and cannot shoot anything.

2. Where was your profile picture taken?

"London. A rooftop in King's Row."

3. Worst pain you've ever experienced?

"I do not want to talk about this."

4. Who was the last person to make you laugh?

She scrolls up to see what Lena said. "You told them about Bakeoven?!"

Venom grinned, widely. "Nooooooo... well, nothin' specific."

"Oh, you horrible woman," Widowmaker chortled. "Well, I suppose you, then. Right now."

5. How late did you stay up last night?

"I fell asleep at 2:05am."

6. If you could move somewhere else, where would it be?

"I would never stay in one place for too long a period of time. It is unnecessarily dangerous, and I enjoy the travel. But if I had to pick one place, to say, and were it safe to do so - Alicudi, Italy."

7. Ever been kissed under fireworks?

Amélie smirked. "Let's just say that 'who's ready for some fireworks?' has more than one meaning, n'est-ce pas?"

8. Which of your Facebook friends lives closest to you?

"What is Face Book?" the blue assassin asked, confused.

"I looked it up! Turns out, some old social network on the old internet."

"...why would anyone ask about that?"

"Turns out, it's still around! Mostly old people, tho'."

"Huh." She shrugged, and moved to the next question.

9. How do you feel about turkey burgers?

"Americans," she said, dismissively.

10. When was the last time you cried?

She smiled at Venom. "My second wedding day."

"Aw, luv."

11. Who took your profile photo?

"Sombra. I considered killing her, but it came out well."

12. Who was the last person you took a picture with?

"I let Lena take a selfie of the two of us at the beach last month."

"Larache was wizard."

"It's as cool a summer as I've ever seen there, and one of my favourite beaches. I was glad you were able to enjoy it."

13. What's your favourite season?

"Autumn."

14. If you could have any career.

"Other than the one I have? I... can't imagine any such thing."

confectioner

15. Do you think relationships are ever worth it?

"YES."

16. If you could talk to ANYONE right now who would it be?

"I..."

"It's okay, love."

"...Gérard."

17. Are you a good influence?

"Oh, no," the assassin giggled. "Absolutely not."

18. Does pineapple belong on pizza?

"Get out of my house."

19. You have the remote, what channel are you watching?

"All of them."

20. Who do you think will fill this out?

"I just did... ah, you mean, who else. I do not know. Someone else waiting before they can begin working, I suppose."

Widowmaker leaned back from the console. "That was more diverting than I anticipated."

"Thanks, love."

"Mostly because you were here."

"Aw. Love you too."
solarbird: (tracer)

This chapter contains events which might end up making me setting a couple of content warnings on this story on AO3. Accordingly, I an putting the story behind a fold, here, as well.

[AO3 link]

Cut for content )

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