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thelegion2017-09-16 06:46 pm
legionnpcs) wrote in thelegion2017-09-16 06:46 pm
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Legionnaire Legacies: Fareeha Amari
Shellee: Hello, fans of justice and righteous fury! I'm Shellee Star!
Tammee:: And I'm Tammee Tim!
Together: Welcome to another Legionnaire Legacy!
Shellee: Tonight we delve into the past of the daugher of Overwatch itself - Blue Falcon!
Tammee:: -- and what a past it is.
[The scene opens on a young Fareeha - 12? 8? She's in a Gi practicing martial arts moves as a woman with an Eye of Ra tattoo teaches her stances, punches, kicks. She's a thorough but fair teacher, and Fareeha is a determined and bright pupil. The woman speaks in Arabic, directing her. Fareeha dutifully listens. She admires and respects this woman; her mother. When her face isn’t screwed up in intense concentration, it’s looking at her mother for guidance, and beams with any encouragement or compliments she gets.]
Shellee: Talk about intense.
Tammee: And that’s just the beginning.
[There are a few flashes of memories from times she visited Overwatch with her, spending time with Jack, and Torbjorn, and Reinhardt. These halls were like a second home, these people a second family. Listening raptly to stories from Reinhardt, learning basic field dressing from Angela, Jack warning her about the perils of the battlefield, talking engineering with Torbjorn. There's a comfort when she's around them, and it's from them and their actions that she pulls her main inspirations for life.]
[Fareeha accompanies her mother through the hallways of the Swiss Headquarters at Overwatch.]
Ana Amari: Take a seat here, Fareeha, I shouldn’t be with Jack more than a moment.”
Young Fareeha: Alright, mother.
[Fareeha smiles, and settles herself in one of the plush chairs. She sets down a backpack and opens it, pulling out a textbook and a datapad and starts studying.]
Reinhardt: Ach! Shame on whoever let you grace the hallways without notifying me first!
[Reinhardt comes around the chair and kneels down to rub a hand affectionately over her head. Fareeha shrieks in delight and immediately slaps a hand over her mouth, embarrassed by her own outburst. Reinhardt only chuckles and stands long enough to take a seat next to her. She watches him curiously, and he grins back at her.]
Reinhardt: You look like you want to ask me a question.
[He taps his nose. Her hesitance - born from a sheer amount of adoration, finally gives way fully to curiosity. She shifts towards him and smiles wide, hopeful.]
Young Fareeha: Do you have any new stories?
Reinhardt: Of course! And, I have plenty of old stories too I bet you haven’t heard yet.
[He leans forward and begins spinning a tale of Crusaders besieged, and Fareeha forgets her studies; wholly enraptured.]
Tammee: Trained in defense, surrounded by this Earth’s greatest minds and toughest fighters. Any child wants to emulate their heroes, but having a front-row seat in a peace-keeping organization definitely left its mark on the young Blue Falcon.
Shellee: Talk about a healthy dose of Justice in the morning … and afternoon, and night!
Tammee: … is it just me or does she have the same hairstyle?
Shellee: No, you’re right … it hasn’t changed at all, has it?
Tammee: [Tammee: looks over at Shellee] Do you think those are the same beads?
[Shellee shrugs.]
[The scene moves on. Fareeha's slightly older; hints of the lanky, lean fighter she becomes. She’s eating breakfast with her father while the news plays on the television. Her mother, Jack Morrison, and Gabriel Reyes are on the screen; Overwatch has had another success. Fareeha bursts with pride. She finishes her breakfast, washes her dishes, then starts to head back to her room. She pauses, head tilted back towards the kitchen where her father is pouring another cup of coffee and continuing to watch the news. She takes the moment to head instead to a hall closet, opening it up and reaching to the upper shelf to take down her mother's beret. She runs back to her room (where there is a large poster of Reinhardt Wilhelm next to her bed - his lion-like hair blowing in a righteous breeze) and quietly closes the door.]
[Fareeha stands in front of her mirror and puts the hat on, taking a few moments to fuss with it until it's sitting just right - just the way she's seen her mother wear it - and then she salutes her reflection. That'll be her, she thinks; she'll be just like her mother and helping others.]
Tammee: As we can see she’s already made her decision about where she wants her life to be going.
Shellee: Mmhm, such a pure and honest passion; no hints of your regular adolescent rebellions, staying away from "the wrong crowds"...
Tammee: She’s so focused on her future and making the world a better place.
Shellee: But...
Tammee: That doesn’t sound good...
Shellee: There’s one thing she didn’t plan for.
[Fareeha's in her teens now, and she's fighting with her mother. As the two of them are similarly bull-headed, stubborn women, their fights are intense. Her mother's aged - hair starting to streak white, wrinkles etched across her face, and a certain weight in her eyes, even as she yells back at her daughter.]
Ana Amari: No, and that's my final answer; do not ask again."
Tammee: Ouch! Her own mother...
Shellee: And as a founding member, Ana Amari’s got to have a lot of pull on who gets recruited...or passed by.
Tammee: You have to wonder if Blue would have idolized her so much if she knew her mother was only going to deny her dream from the outset?
Shellee: That’d be a question to ask her now, but let’s see how it plays out...
[A few years pass. Fareeha is standing with a duffel bag by a bus bound for a local army base. Her father stands with her as she tries to call her mother, but the call goes straight to voicemail. Fareeha chooses not to leave a message, instead clicking her phone off and then hugging her father before joining the other recruits and boarding the bus. As it pulls out, she waves at her father until he's no longer in sight, and then settles back against her seat.]
[She's closed off; people try to talk to her, and while she isn't mean, she doesn't exactly encourage the conversation. Once she arrives at boot camp, the whole of her focus goes entirely into her training. She's determined to show her mother she's worthy of being an Overwatch agent one way or another, and if she has to prove it through the army, then she will damn well prove it through the army. ]
Tammee: [She sniffs, dabbing a finger to her eye.] I didn’t think it could hurt any more. Shunned by her mother, she’s still dead set on proving herself.
Shellee: Such a bright and cheerful child turned to a stoic and serious young woman by the sheer drive of her desire to help. A door closes and she busts open a window!
Tammee: But at what costs? A closer look reveals a reputation for excellence as well as a cool aloofness and unapproachability.
[She excels. She's an otherworldly force; between her stubborn nature to never give in to a challenge, the edge afforded her by early combat training, and her ability to creatively assess and and accomplish her objectives, she quickly rises through the ranks. All the same, Fareeha continues to hold herself apart. While other soldiers joke and banter, during leave when they hit the bars and the clubs, Fareeha continues to study field guides, or to work out, or otherwise continue her military training. It's a lonely existence, punctuated by letters and calls with her father and the occasional civil interactions with her mother.]
Shellee: I’m going to be honest, Tammee:, if I had met her then; I wouldn’t have wanted to be her friend.
Tammee: You have to admit, though, it makes her a perfect candidate for the Legionnaires.
Shellee: Indeed it does, and we can see the foundations of justice-seeking that would make her a shoe in, but it doesn’t end here. What doesn’t bend eventually breaks, and we’ve already seen her standing stalwart against all kinds of obstacles.
Tammee: So the worst is yet to come...let’s watch!
[Another scene, although it's nothing exceptionally different from the story of her military career. She's in the barracks. She has a phone call. Her captain leads her to it and though she can't entirely read his face she knows him well enough to know this call is going to change everything.]
Fareeha: This is Lieutenant-Commander Fareeha Amari.
Jack Morrison: Fareeha, it's Jack.
[Jack Morrison, who's voice she knew from childhood; who needed no introduction. But, in those three words, she could already sense what might be coming. Her stomach drops, but she doggedly maintains her professionalism.]
Fareeha: Jack -- it's been a while.
Jack Morrison: It has, it ... Fareeha, it's about your mother.
[She doesn't speak, crossing one arm over her stomach and resting her elbow on it; effectively (preemptively) creating some sort of barrier against the incoming news. She looks like her throat is starting to close up, and her head fills with cotton. His next few words seem to make her feel worlds away, and yet she can very obviously still hear them echoing in her ears.]
Jack Morrison: There was an incident, in our last mission.
[Another long pause. She looks like a small, objective part of her knows this must be hard on him, but she just needs to know; to have no doubts about what she's going to have to be dealing with.]
Fareeha: Please, Jack ... just tell me ...
Jack Morrison: I'm sorry, Fareeha. She didn't make it.
Tammee: That’s...quite a blow. To have -- pretty much the foundation of why you’re doing anything suddenly taken away..
Shellee: And considering the way she’s pushed people away, she’s left herself with very little support system.
Tammee: Will she be able to weather this?
[Clearance levels mean she never finds out anything more. There is a memorial service. There is no funeral, because there's no body recovered. She attends in her military dress, dodging paparazzi to and from, using car service with tinted windows. Overwatch had been on shaky ground for a while and out came the cockroaches to sensationalize the death of one of the founding members. Except for Fareeha, that had been her mother.]
Shellee: Adding insult to injury! She can’t even mourn in peace!
[The irony of speaking about paparazzi exploiting the hardship of others seems entirely lost on her.]
Tammee: The pressures from her mother don’t disappear with her death; society isn’t soon to let her forget where she came from.
[A year later, Overwatch crumbles entirely, and she's forced to watch from the sidelines as the extended family she grew up with - that had so much import on the woman she became - dies, or disappears, or are forced into retirement. She's stopped watching the news, leaving the room anytime an Op-Ed piece started up on the television that her colleagues are watching. It's a painful, dark time in her life where she falls more bitter and angry.]
Shellee: The dominoes have started falling.
[The memories continue, slipping back into her continued military career. She's not any better with people, but she does eventually leave with distinguished service and not long after is offered a position with Helix Securities International. It's an honor to anyone in her position, and for the first time in a long time she's excited again; a change of pace, something different, new missions outside the scope of what the regular army could do.]
[She begins as a security chief, and is issued her first iteration of a limited-flight jump-jet armor systems. Once she gets herself established and assigned a team, she graduates to a full Raptora systems. It's brilliant blue, the helmet fashioned like a hawk with a gold visor.]
[In light of fighting new and more dangerous foes, and after what happened with her mother, she finds time to make her way to a tattoo parlor. She talks to the artist, pours over a few reference pictures, and together they settle on a final design. She settles herself into the chair, hands folded over her stomach as the artist finishes setting up his station. He spins his chair to settle his hands over her face, and the machine whirs to life. The pain is cathartic, and by the end of it she has a symbol of protection with her always. ]
Tammee: So things are looking up, finally. A memorial tattoo for her mother, a new career; she left the army with her head held high and secured a position in the private sector.
Shellee: Perhaps not quite the same ‘for the betterment of humanity’ vibe that Overwatch exuded, but a prestigious honor nonetheless.
Tammee: They also took over several of Overwatch’s responsibilities.
Shellee: That’s right! Guarding firewalled omnic god programs, for one --
Tammee: Which, for the uninformed, are the super-powered artificial intelligences responsible for starting the Omnic Crisis that Overwatch was specifically created to combat.
Shellee: Let’s see how Blue Falcon fared against them;
[The next set of memories hit like a missile barrage; straight from the battleground as her Helix team sets out to deal with Anubis. They find the wounded engineer, and she's the one that signs his death warrant, choosing to push on instead of take the time to call help. An omnic puts his pistol to his chin and pulls the trigger; it's a teammate - a friend - she can't act fast enough, isn't close enough to stop him, can only scream his name as she watches him sacrifice himself. They're ambushed.]
[Omnics appear from every conceivable corner; the Helix team breaks up, each shooting into a different corner of the sky. She's on the ground again, her Captain lays through a broken brick wall, he doesn't make it. It's up to her to rally the rest of the team together and finish this damned Omnic god program before it could get to the heavy weapons. There's smoke and fire, explosions, gunfire. Anubis controls the omnics around them and itself sits watching as Fareeha has to make that choice - and in doing so finally changes an integral part of herself.]
[Only then is she able to both help her teammate, and finally put down Anubis; offering him the distraction while he hacks into its systems. There's a moment when it all goes dark as she's inundated; overwhelmed and covered in omnics before they all simultaneously shut down. ]
Shellee: First major engagement with Helix and they suffer amazing loss and only only just succeeded by the skin of their teeth.
Tammee: At least she’s learned a serious lesson at this point about letting people in and that she’s not an absolute invincible force of nature.
Shellee: Speaking of an invincible force of nature... we have one last tidbit from her life before the Legion before we delve into the deep dark secrets of her wanton desires...
Tammee: Ooooo, yes; let’s take a look at that!
[It's a letter from her mother, read with that same smoky tone that had opened up Fareeha's memories with martial arts instruction - albeit older with a definite crag to the edges. Fareeha's mother, who'd been presumed dead, who had - for six years - done nothing to contact her, or any other family, was alive. Alive, well, and unapproachable. ]
Tammee: Talk about a plot twist...
Shellee: But perhaps this is the final blow to undo the poor justice-seeker; since arriving in Legion, she’s married a former terrorist.
Tammee: What a fall from grace. I mean, what would her mother think?
Shellee: Truly and honestly a question for the ages.
Tammee: -- but Legion accepted Junkrat as well; perhaps she sees potential there?
Shellee: I guess we’ll just have to keep watching … and find out.
Tammee: Thanks for watching,
Shellee: I’m Shellee Star -
Tammee: And I’m Tammee Tim -
Both: ... and this has been another installment of Legionnaire Legacies!
Tammee:: And I'm Tammee Tim!
Together: Welcome to another Legionnaire Legacy!
Shellee: Tonight we delve into the past of the daugher of Overwatch itself - Blue Falcon!
Tammee:: -- and what a past it is.
[The scene opens on a young Fareeha - 12? 8? She's in a Gi practicing martial arts moves as a woman with an Eye of Ra tattoo teaches her stances, punches, kicks. She's a thorough but fair teacher, and Fareeha is a determined and bright pupil. The woman speaks in Arabic, directing her. Fareeha dutifully listens. She admires and respects this woman; her mother. When her face isn’t screwed up in intense concentration, it’s looking at her mother for guidance, and beams with any encouragement or compliments she gets.]
Shellee: Talk about intense.
Tammee: And that’s just the beginning.
[There are a few flashes of memories from times she visited Overwatch with her, spending time with Jack, and Torbjorn, and Reinhardt. These halls were like a second home, these people a second family. Listening raptly to stories from Reinhardt, learning basic field dressing from Angela, Jack warning her about the perils of the battlefield, talking engineering with Torbjorn. There's a comfort when she's around them, and it's from them and their actions that she pulls her main inspirations for life.]
[Fareeha accompanies her mother through the hallways of the Swiss Headquarters at Overwatch.]
Ana Amari: Take a seat here, Fareeha, I shouldn’t be with Jack more than a moment.”
Young Fareeha: Alright, mother.
[Fareeha smiles, and settles herself in one of the plush chairs. She sets down a backpack and opens it, pulling out a textbook and a datapad and starts studying.]
Reinhardt: Ach! Shame on whoever let you grace the hallways without notifying me first!
[Reinhardt comes around the chair and kneels down to rub a hand affectionately over her head. Fareeha shrieks in delight and immediately slaps a hand over her mouth, embarrassed by her own outburst. Reinhardt only chuckles and stands long enough to take a seat next to her. She watches him curiously, and he grins back at her.]
Reinhardt: You look like you want to ask me a question.
[He taps his nose. Her hesitance - born from a sheer amount of adoration, finally gives way fully to curiosity. She shifts towards him and smiles wide, hopeful.]
Young Fareeha: Do you have any new stories?
Reinhardt: Of course! And, I have plenty of old stories too I bet you haven’t heard yet.
[He leans forward and begins spinning a tale of Crusaders besieged, and Fareeha forgets her studies; wholly enraptured.]
Tammee: Trained in defense, surrounded by this Earth’s greatest minds and toughest fighters. Any child wants to emulate their heroes, but having a front-row seat in a peace-keeping organization definitely left its mark on the young Blue Falcon.
Shellee: Talk about a healthy dose of Justice in the morning … and afternoon, and night!
Tammee: … is it just me or does she have the same hairstyle?
Shellee: No, you’re right … it hasn’t changed at all, has it?
Tammee: [Tammee: looks over at Shellee] Do you think those are the same beads?
[Shellee shrugs.]
[The scene moves on. Fareeha's slightly older; hints of the lanky, lean fighter she becomes. She’s eating breakfast with her father while the news plays on the television. Her mother, Jack Morrison, and Gabriel Reyes are on the screen; Overwatch has had another success. Fareeha bursts with pride. She finishes her breakfast, washes her dishes, then starts to head back to her room. She pauses, head tilted back towards the kitchen where her father is pouring another cup of coffee and continuing to watch the news. She takes the moment to head instead to a hall closet, opening it up and reaching to the upper shelf to take down her mother's beret. She runs back to her room (where there is a large poster of Reinhardt Wilhelm next to her bed - his lion-like hair blowing in a righteous breeze) and quietly closes the door.]
[Fareeha stands in front of her mirror and puts the hat on, taking a few moments to fuss with it until it's sitting just right - just the way she's seen her mother wear it - and then she salutes her reflection. That'll be her, she thinks; she'll be just like her mother and helping others.]
Tammee: As we can see she’s already made her decision about where she wants her life to be going.
Shellee: Mmhm, such a pure and honest passion; no hints of your regular adolescent rebellions, staying away from "the wrong crowds"...
Tammee: She’s so focused on her future and making the world a better place.
Shellee: But...
Tammee: That doesn’t sound good...
Shellee: There’s one thing she didn’t plan for.
[Fareeha's in her teens now, and she's fighting with her mother. As the two of them are similarly bull-headed, stubborn women, their fights are intense. Her mother's aged - hair starting to streak white, wrinkles etched across her face, and a certain weight in her eyes, even as she yells back at her daughter.]
Ana Amari: No, and that's my final answer; do not ask again."
Tammee: Ouch! Her own mother...
Shellee: And as a founding member, Ana Amari’s got to have a lot of pull on who gets recruited...or passed by.
Tammee: You have to wonder if Blue would have idolized her so much if she knew her mother was only going to deny her dream from the outset?
Shellee: That’d be a question to ask her now, but let’s see how it plays out...
[A few years pass. Fareeha is standing with a duffel bag by a bus bound for a local army base. Her father stands with her as she tries to call her mother, but the call goes straight to voicemail. Fareeha chooses not to leave a message, instead clicking her phone off and then hugging her father before joining the other recruits and boarding the bus. As it pulls out, she waves at her father until he's no longer in sight, and then settles back against her seat.]
[She's closed off; people try to talk to her, and while she isn't mean, she doesn't exactly encourage the conversation. Once she arrives at boot camp, the whole of her focus goes entirely into her training. She's determined to show her mother she's worthy of being an Overwatch agent one way or another, and if she has to prove it through the army, then she will damn well prove it through the army. ]
Tammee: [She sniffs, dabbing a finger to her eye.] I didn’t think it could hurt any more. Shunned by her mother, she’s still dead set on proving herself.
Shellee: Such a bright and cheerful child turned to a stoic and serious young woman by the sheer drive of her desire to help. A door closes and she busts open a window!
Tammee: But at what costs? A closer look reveals a reputation for excellence as well as a cool aloofness and unapproachability.
[She excels. She's an otherworldly force; between her stubborn nature to never give in to a challenge, the edge afforded her by early combat training, and her ability to creatively assess and and accomplish her objectives, she quickly rises through the ranks. All the same, Fareeha continues to hold herself apart. While other soldiers joke and banter, during leave when they hit the bars and the clubs, Fareeha continues to study field guides, or to work out, or otherwise continue her military training. It's a lonely existence, punctuated by letters and calls with her father and the occasional civil interactions with her mother.]
Shellee: I’m going to be honest, Tammee:, if I had met her then; I wouldn’t have wanted to be her friend.
Tammee: You have to admit, though, it makes her a perfect candidate for the Legionnaires.
Shellee: Indeed it does, and we can see the foundations of justice-seeking that would make her a shoe in, but it doesn’t end here. What doesn’t bend eventually breaks, and we’ve already seen her standing stalwart against all kinds of obstacles.
Tammee: So the worst is yet to come...let’s watch!
[Another scene, although it's nothing exceptionally different from the story of her military career. She's in the barracks. She has a phone call. Her captain leads her to it and though she can't entirely read his face she knows him well enough to know this call is going to change everything.]
Fareeha: This is Lieutenant-Commander Fareeha Amari.
Jack Morrison: Fareeha, it's Jack.
[Jack Morrison, who's voice she knew from childhood; who needed no introduction. But, in those three words, she could already sense what might be coming. Her stomach drops, but she doggedly maintains her professionalism.]
Fareeha: Jack -- it's been a while.
Jack Morrison: It has, it ... Fareeha, it's about your mother.
[She doesn't speak, crossing one arm over her stomach and resting her elbow on it; effectively (preemptively) creating some sort of barrier against the incoming news. She looks like her throat is starting to close up, and her head fills with cotton. His next few words seem to make her feel worlds away, and yet she can very obviously still hear them echoing in her ears.]
Jack Morrison: There was an incident, in our last mission.
[Another long pause. She looks like a small, objective part of her knows this must be hard on him, but she just needs to know; to have no doubts about what she's going to have to be dealing with.]
Fareeha: Please, Jack ... just tell me ...
Jack Morrison: I'm sorry, Fareeha. She didn't make it.
Tammee: That’s...quite a blow. To have -- pretty much the foundation of why you’re doing anything suddenly taken away..
Shellee: And considering the way she’s pushed people away, she’s left herself with very little support system.
Tammee: Will she be able to weather this?
[Clearance levels mean she never finds out anything more. There is a memorial service. There is no funeral, because there's no body recovered. She attends in her military dress, dodging paparazzi to and from, using car service with tinted windows. Overwatch had been on shaky ground for a while and out came the cockroaches to sensationalize the death of one of the founding members. Except for Fareeha, that had been her mother.]
Shellee: Adding insult to injury! She can’t even mourn in peace!
[The irony of speaking about paparazzi exploiting the hardship of others seems entirely lost on her.]
Tammee: The pressures from her mother don’t disappear with her death; society isn’t soon to let her forget where she came from.
[A year later, Overwatch crumbles entirely, and she's forced to watch from the sidelines as the extended family she grew up with - that had so much import on the woman she became - dies, or disappears, or are forced into retirement. She's stopped watching the news, leaving the room anytime an Op-Ed piece started up on the television that her colleagues are watching. It's a painful, dark time in her life where she falls more bitter and angry.]
Shellee: The dominoes have started falling.
[The memories continue, slipping back into her continued military career. She's not any better with people, but she does eventually leave with distinguished service and not long after is offered a position with Helix Securities International. It's an honor to anyone in her position, and for the first time in a long time she's excited again; a change of pace, something different, new missions outside the scope of what the regular army could do.]
[She begins as a security chief, and is issued her first iteration of a limited-flight jump-jet armor systems. Once she gets herself established and assigned a team, she graduates to a full Raptora systems. It's brilliant blue, the helmet fashioned like a hawk with a gold visor.]
[In light of fighting new and more dangerous foes, and after what happened with her mother, she finds time to make her way to a tattoo parlor. She talks to the artist, pours over a few reference pictures, and together they settle on a final design. She settles herself into the chair, hands folded over her stomach as the artist finishes setting up his station. He spins his chair to settle his hands over her face, and the machine whirs to life. The pain is cathartic, and by the end of it she has a symbol of protection with her always. ]
Tammee: So things are looking up, finally. A memorial tattoo for her mother, a new career; she left the army with her head held high and secured a position in the private sector.
Shellee: Perhaps not quite the same ‘for the betterment of humanity’ vibe that Overwatch exuded, but a prestigious honor nonetheless.
Tammee: They also took over several of Overwatch’s responsibilities.
Shellee: That’s right! Guarding firewalled omnic god programs, for one --
Tammee: Which, for the uninformed, are the super-powered artificial intelligences responsible for starting the Omnic Crisis that Overwatch was specifically created to combat.
Shellee: Let’s see how Blue Falcon fared against them;
[The next set of memories hit like a missile barrage; straight from the battleground as her Helix team sets out to deal with Anubis. They find the wounded engineer, and she's the one that signs his death warrant, choosing to push on instead of take the time to call help. An omnic puts his pistol to his chin and pulls the trigger; it's a teammate - a friend - she can't act fast enough, isn't close enough to stop him, can only scream his name as she watches him sacrifice himself. They're ambushed.]
[Omnics appear from every conceivable corner; the Helix team breaks up, each shooting into a different corner of the sky. She's on the ground again, her Captain lays through a broken brick wall, he doesn't make it. It's up to her to rally the rest of the team together and finish this damned Omnic god program before it could get to the heavy weapons. There's smoke and fire, explosions, gunfire. Anubis controls the omnics around them and itself sits watching as Fareeha has to make that choice - and in doing so finally changes an integral part of herself.]
[Only then is she able to both help her teammate, and finally put down Anubis; offering him the distraction while he hacks into its systems. There's a moment when it all goes dark as she's inundated; overwhelmed and covered in omnics before they all simultaneously shut down. ]
Shellee: First major engagement with Helix and they suffer amazing loss and only only just succeeded by the skin of their teeth.
Tammee: At least she’s learned a serious lesson at this point about letting people in and that she’s not an absolute invincible force of nature.
Shellee: Speaking of an invincible force of nature... we have one last tidbit from her life before the Legion before we delve into the deep dark secrets of her wanton desires...
Tammee: Ooooo, yes; let’s take a look at that!
[It's a letter from her mother, read with that same smoky tone that had opened up Fareeha's memories with martial arts instruction - albeit older with a definite crag to the edges. Fareeha's mother, who'd been presumed dead, who had - for six years - done nothing to contact her, or any other family, was alive. Alive, well, and unapproachable. ]
Tammee: Talk about a plot twist...
Shellee: But perhaps this is the final blow to undo the poor justice-seeker; since arriving in Legion, she’s married a former terrorist.
Tammee: What a fall from grace. I mean, what would her mother think?
Shellee: Truly and honestly a question for the ages.
Tammee: -- but Legion accepted Junkrat as well; perhaps she sees potential there?
Shellee: I guess we’ll just have to keep watching … and find out.
Tammee: Thanks for watching,
Shellee: I’m Shellee Star -
Tammee: And I’m Tammee Tim -
Both: ... and this has been another installment of Legionnaire Legacies!