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[araignee_du_soir]

[Widowmaker had finally extracted herself from all the rigamarole that surrounded a new arrival to make her way to the Mess Hall. With a cup of something almost as blue as the color of her skin sitting on the table before her along with her rifle in its shorter Assault mode, she set the omnicom up so she didn't have to hold it in her hand.

What she did have in her hand was the ring they'd given her upon taking that oath. As if an oath was binding...]

I can certainly understand the need for a vetting process, but it appears to be rather pointless to subject would-be saviors to such repetitive examinations when the results do not change. What is the phrase...? [She idly rolled the ring between her fingers as she thought a moment.] Ah, yes. 'Beggars can't be choosers.'

Perhaps I am simply... special. [There was a slight upturn of her lips at that last word.]

Comments

[araignee_du_soir]

[The change of subject was met with a half lowering of her eyelids and a slight displeased sound in the back of her throat. The wires in Sombra's head clearly made it hard for her to focus sometimes.]

I assumed he was here and would make his presence known to me when he felt like it. He and I do not press each other. [They had each others backs when it counted. Amélie knew he wasn't the one she needed to worry about.]

Unless your next words are going to be about how you have already set up a communication web with him that you will be connecting me to, talk about him can wait. You are the one with her fingers in all the pots.

[And for some reason, Amélie glanced over toward the door then back to Sombra, hand reaching up to take her visor off.]

[vata]

[She'd be lying if she said she wasn't wholly invested in dragging this out as long as humanly possible— in irritating her co-conspirator at least a little bit to complete the routine she's been without for weeks, months— which is exactly why Sombra says nothing when her grin turns sharply upwards, bright eyes flicking down again towards her nails.

Coy as anything.] I was getting around to it...

[Still, she's not blind. Not when it comes to the network, linked to the implants housed in her skull and a conlict too easily followed in spite of her silence. Amélie caused a stir: one that seems to be ongoing. If she's shedding her own equipment, there must be a reason for it.]

[araignee_du_soir]

Get around to it faster. We do not have much time.

[She handed the visor to Sombra.] I need you to hold onto this for a bit; if you need to make use of it to patch me into your network do so.

[And then she narrowed her eyes, holding Sombra's for the moment.] Do not make any other adjustments.

[It was delicate equipment that was perfectly calibrated! Which was exactly why she wasn't going to be wearing it when Tracer steamrolled in. It was only a matter of time before she was found and it was best Sombra was out of sight when the Brit caught up to her.]

[vata]

[It's heavier than she'd expected, turning it over in her clawed hands before they coil covetously across that heavily polished, pristine surface. The very picture of a dragon curling atop its hoard, eyes half lidded and glinting for just the faintest, faintest second before bothering to address Amélie directly:]

Try to make her look like the troublemaker, will you?

[The more mistrust and frustration pinned on the former members of Overwatch, the better. At least so far as Talon is concerned.]

[araignee_du_soir]

[Those abnormally pale eyes of hers watched Sombra intensely while the woman caressed one of her most precious possessions. Amélie may require little, but her visor and her rifle were essential. This was an unusual amount of trust that she was putting in another, even for a Talon ally. If anything happened to it, Sombra was going to find out just how hard it was to hide from her.]

I already have it planned. The pain will be well worth it. [There's that wicked curl to her lips. She was going to enjoy making Tracer look like a loose cannon.]

[vata]

[It's the slow blossom of a vicious grin that leaves a pause between Widowmaker's response and Sombra's own: the soft tap of her nails where they're curled around metal in her arms while her shoulders shrug ever so gently in absolute contentment. And agreement.

They're short on time - she needs to leave.

A flicker of visible, fractured code. Violet light fading away into nothingness, Sombra disappearing where she stands.] I'll leave you to it.

[A beat, and then:] Cheers, love.

[araignee_du_soir]

[Sombra was surely still close enough under her cloak to see the smile turn up just that much more at those parting words. She almost threw back her own parting phrase, but decided it best to prepare for Tracer. She could hear that annoying thing strapped to her chest already.]