11 Works in Pre-Blackwatch (Overwatch)
Listing Works
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When Gabe stepped into the holding room, he was expecting some behemoth of a man to be beheld before him, covered in gnarly scars that spoke far more than he did, and maybe missing a limb or two. Not a child.
Maybe child was a strong word for him, but.. he was, to Gabe at least. Slumped in a solid metal chair, hands bound behind his back and his face covered by slightly greasy, mussed brown hair and the lip of a goddamned cowboy hat. The metal table that would have normally been infront of the boy was flipped on its side a little ways out of the centre of the room, and Gabe could only stare in confusion as the door clunked shut behind him.
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in a shocking turn of events, moira is wearing long sleeves to work that day, and (for some reason) angela takes notice of it!! shenanigans ensue.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,833
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 48
- Hits:
- 450
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An unknown mutation was reported on a remote space station near the Horizon Lunar Colony, some sort of genetic experimentation gone wrong, and all communication was cut shortly afterwards. On the cutting edge of genetic research, Dr. Moira O'Deorain was recruited as a leading scientist to investigate the anomaly. Overwatch has their hands in everything, so it was hardly a shock to see the organization sent their own scientist to tag along.
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They knew each other before…before everything.
They were young things, with a sweet young sort of love.
But they were broken, too, and broken people take time to mend.
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Genji Shimada is 16-years-old and just wants to gamble, dance, and play games. Hanzo Shimada has other plans for him. As does their father. And the Shimada Clan. And nearly everyone else, it turns out.
A short story about arcades, gambling, gangsters, duels on roofs in the dark, and two brothers who want their father to love them. -
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Genji Shimada had been your childhood bestfriend, and after not seeing each other for so many years, the two of you were reunited in an arranged marriage unbeknownst to the two of you, for the sake of the Shimada clan business relationships.
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Genji knows his new bodyguard is actually an undercover agent sent to spy on his father, and he doesn't really care so long as he gets his way.
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She observes her features. Her face doesn’t entirely display complete neutrality. She looks pained, there’s this feeble glint in her eyes whenever she pulls the trigger, as though she imagines a man sinking to the ground with a shout. Angela swallows. Hard. The redhead doesn’t wear any earmuffs, her ears must be ringing with gunshots at this point. She’s sweating a little, therefore wiping her forehead with the towel in front of herself briefly. And then she finally looks at Angela.
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A dozen motorcycles rumbled down the highway in tight formation on patrol along the edge of their territory, the riders wearing their jackets and vests proudly, defying both the feeble remnants of law and order and the desert sun with black leather worn supple from active use. One jacket at the front, however, was shiny and new, the three patches still almost blue-white under the sun.
His shaggy brown hair whipped back in the dry wind beneath his helmet, and his sunglasses flashed and shone in the desert heat. He looked like a kid playing dress-up, with his almost brand new cut, his bright red bandana tied around his neck like an anti-Boy Scout, and the seven scraggly hairs on his chin he was clearly proud of. His bike was old but lovingly maintained, and looked comically large under a scrawny kid like him. The pistol at his hip matched the bike far more than the boy, but if his skill at handling the motorcycle and his member patches were any clue, he was a force to be reckoned with when that gun was in his hand.
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It was a known fact that Jesse McCree didn’t have a daddy. His ma had married some fancy gambler, sure, but they weren’t soulmates so it didn’t right count. When Ma’s gambler found his match on a riverboat, the two split up without too many hard feelings. McCree still visited his boy e’ery now and then and on holidays, but that didn’t count none in their town.
Series
- Part 1 of All Hail Mama McCree
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A little girl stood in the doorway. She wore a white flower-print dress, her shoulder-length hair braided in the front with gold (or something golden, at least.) She stared up at Jesse. Unblinking. Unafraid.
Jesse lifted up his right hand to the best of his ability, his cuffs clinking as they connect with the table. "Howdy."
"You have a weird hat." The girl said, plainly.Seventeen-year old Jesse McCree, fresh out of Deadlock, didn't think Overwatch was the type to let kids run around. Twelve-year-old Fareeha Amari makes a weird friend.