No such feeling emerges. Perhaps Hanzo had done his best to put distance between himself and his fledgling, for just such a reason.
But there is someone approaching. A vampire, quite like them, and as the door opens the figure of a woman emerges from the elevator. She has a Vishkar uniform about her, though the dress is perhaps slit a little higher than is standard for such things. Black and red, with a strangely pale look to her despite a tanned skin tone.
She pauses just outside the elevator, her red eyes cast about behind the red tint of a visor over her eyes. Searching. Something is amiss here, she's sure of it.
It’s for the best he isn’t here. If Jesse were to come up against Hanzo again, he’s not sure he could make himself walk away a second time.
Thankfully, someone comes up on the elevator before his patience can wear too thin. He assesses her quickly—a vampire, no telling how old or strong. Sharp though, if she’s sensed him already. He slips out from the meager shadows beside the elevator and presses the barrel of his gun to the back of her head.
“Stay quiet now. No sudden movements either. Hands out where I can see ‘em.”
He’d taken out the closest camera just before this subtly enough that they might buy a technical malfunction, but he doesn’t want to test those odds. This has to happen fast, and it has to happen now.
She doesn't tense. Instead her eyes cut sideways towards where he stands, with an almost stern expression.
"You are late."
In a moment she's drawn away, turned to face him with an imperious look that wouldn't have looked out of place on Hanzo, come to think of it. She regards in him a brief once over before making a humming noise, and gesturing for him to follow with a mechanical hand.
"Come. Before anyone else discovers you are here."
Jesse doesn't put the gun down. Neither does he shoot like he really should have when she moved. This is so completely off-script that, frankly, he's wondering if he missed something. Judging by the look on her face, he just might have. He hadn't thought anyone could look down their nose as well as Hanzo... but she's giving him a run for his money.
She regards him steadily with those unnatural eyes. There is something else within him, not necessarily of the blood. Something she does not trust. But there is little choice. He is what they have to work with.
"We have little time before you are discovered. And I would rather this be taken care of without delay."
A swipe of her card, and the elevator opens once more.
Jesse watches the stranger warily for a moment more, eyes darting from her to the elevator. Nothing in there he can see. No traps or chance of ambush. Still, he keeps Peacekeeper trained on her as he steps toward the elevator.
“Any chance you’re going to explain this before we get to the basement, or nah?”
"That would depend. How much of your association would you care for me to say out loud in this very well-monitored facility?"
She lifts an eyebrow at him, then the gun, before letting out a small sigh. As if he's chewing with his mouth open at the table and she's choosing to hold her tongue for the moment. Get in, McCree. Before she changes her mind.
"You are here, as many are in Oasis, to learn. I can take you where you need to go, to find the information you seek. Do you really require more than that? Surely you can simply start shooting if things do not go to your liking."
She knows a lot more than a random scientist or researcher should, even after Jesse had taken great pains to go unnoticed. He can’t help but be intrigued, even knowing the danger. He follows her into the elevator nonetheless.
“Fine. But shooting things is still the plan if someone makes a wrong move. Brought plenty of ammo.”
And he’s not about to be shy about that either. He’s been inoculated against a lifetime’s worth of haughty stares by now.
"Not gonna tell me a thing in the meantime, are you?"
She eyes him for a moment. Then she reaches up to her visor, taps it gently, and a light goes dim. Slowly, the elevator begins to descend, a blue light washing over both of them as the numbers tick down.
"You may call me Symmetra. For the time being. And what you need to know is that we share a common goal." Her gaze cuts sideways towards him. "Difficult as that may be to accept, for a former hunter."
So she knows who he is. That's troubling for all sorts of reasons, not the least of which being that he'd been spotted sneaking into a building again. Is he going to have to redo his basic training or something?
"Nothin' former about it," he replies gruffly, ignoring for a moment the fact that he hasn't been on a proper hunt in ages.
"But sure. I'll bite, Symmetra. And you're just going to let me leave this facility when we're done with tea and chit-chat down there."
"What they are doing with our research is monstrous. Barbaric."
Her lips thin tensely, and its clear that she's weighing a great deal in her mind before straightening, composing herself once more. "We were meant to be making the world a better place. This, there is no excuse for. The sooner this project of theirs is terminated, the better for all."
Her eyes return to the numbers, following their descent. Then, a few floors short of their goal, she extends one hand. Not a flesh and blood limb, but of the same elegant composition of many robotics within the city. Something in her palm flickers and glows brightly.
The elevator suddenly grinds to a halt, the blue lights changed for a flooded red, and the door slides open prematurely.
"They will not expect us from this direction. Come."
That stops Jesse short, and it keeps him quiet for the remaining duration of their ride. He thinks back, not for the first time, on the wolves he’d had to leave behind after that last botched mission. And the one in the church. And then the revelations in the reports Hanzo had gotten out to them… it’s as bad as she’s saying and more. He’d just never thought he’d hear anyone from the inside say it.
When they exit the elevator, he makes the decision to take his aim off of her. He hopes it’s not a mistake. Especially with that cybernetic hand of hers. He’s more wary of the tech than he is of her vampiric abilities.
“Knowin’ our end goal here would really help me help you.”
Taking the lead, she steps out into the hall. This one is silent. No movement, no lights save a few ambient glowing points from various hall decorations lazily turning in place. Her heels click softly as she progresses, leading him onward.
"...when we were assigned here to this project, I thought it would mean a life of stability and control, for those who lacked it. I was mistaken. Now I wish to correct that mistake." She glances back at him. "And there are others who wish the same. Some you may be familiar with, I believe."
It takes effort not to ask her outright if Hanzo is one of the people she’s talking about. It would do him good to know the man has kept his moral compass and his own mind, but he won’t risk blowing his cover in front of someone he can’t trust. Even if she seems genuine enough. He won’t risk that. So he keeps his expression schooled to indifference, even as his heart feels just a bit lighter.
“Talon seems to be good at that. They make all sorts of promises, but forget to mention all the dirty work that goes with it.”
At long last they appear at a doorway that requires another slip of a keycard. "The labs you seek are below. There is a small shaft meant for delivering samples, but it should be large enough to fit through, for someone of your composition." She gives him another coolly surveying look.
"I will lock the elevator down. They will not be able to reach you, but you will have to navigate your way out on your own. From what I have heard, you are more than equal to the task."
Jesse nods, giving the room beyond the door a cursory glance before looking back at Symmetra. She’s very clearly not human, and he wonders if her appearance is by design or a result of some aspect of vampirism he doesn’t know about yet. Had this happened little over a year ago, he wouldn’t have hesitated to put a bullet in her just for those red eyes.
Best not to think about how many other good people he might have killed, in the name of hunting ‘evil.’
“Thanks for this. I’ll make it count. We’re going to shut ‘em down, and we’re going to help all the people we can doing it.”
People. Monsters. What is even the difference anymore?
“Once this mess is over with and you’re out of here… look us up.” He figures he doesn’t need to elaborate on the ‘us.’ “You and… whoever else you know. Maybe whoever told you about me. Sounds like they’ve got some good sense.”
Perhaps there is little difference at all. What would Jesse qualify as? What would the beasts being manipulated count as? These things are no longer quite so clear as they once were, not even for others of their kind.
"Sense enough to know that any such response would only tighten their own leash." The look on her face is almost a pitying one. Almost. But she quickly resumes that air of cold composure.
"No. We will remain where the most good can be done. We will see this through. You should do the same."
His suspicions about who informed Symmetra are becoming stronger. It’s the pity that does it—what reason would she have to give him that look otherwise? He gives a quick, tense nod, eyes closing for just a second as he does his best to compartmentalize. He has to focus on this mission if Hanzo, this woman, and others like them can ever be free.
The only way to do any of it will be to burn it all down. He can almost feel it already, the flames of a burning Talon base flickering at his fingertips. What else could he want but that violence and revenge? He’ll do whatever it takes to get there, and he'll do it alone if he has to. Breaking in here is just the beginning.
When he opens his eyes again, he gives his head a little shake and rubs a hand quickly over his left eye. Another headache he can’t afford. If they’re going to destroy Talon and end this, they need this data. He won’t leave without it.
“I intend to. Good luck then, and remember that offer when Talon isn’t around anymore. You and whoever else you know in the same boat as you.”
She gives him a curt nod, and once he's starting moving in that direction she lifts her mechanical hand, intending to close the entrance up behind him.
That leaves him only one direction to go. Down into the belly of the labs. The smell of chemicals and solvents creeps upwards, as does the distinct scent of wet dog. Unmistakable anywhere. It's like the mad scientist herself is hard at work even now, and might have a few specimens on hand.
Though whether they're there as security or fodder for her experiments, who can say.
Jesse doesn’t look back as he descends into the lab, his attention turning back to the mission itself. The hint of life down there helps him focus. Block out the emotion, concentrate on figuring out if something big and hairy is going to lunge out at you. It’s actually helpful for banishing thoughts of Hanzo and fiery revenge.
He treads silently over the tile and keeps an eye open for anything potentially useful. Paper files. Handwritten notes. USB sticks or computers. Things he could make copies of and get out with, hopefully without alerting anyone to the fact that he was even here.
If he’s caught, after all, it’s more than just his head on the chopping block.
There are a great deal of notes. On paper. Scattered through the lab. There is on occasion the sound of footsteps, the clinking of a vial, and a murmured 'fascinating' from a voice.
The USBs are kept closer to the main monitor and computer which, unfortunately, appears to be one of the positions the geneticist keeps moving back and forth between as she works.
There is no additional shuffling, at least. So perhaps the beasts aren't loose, after all.
Jesse has a burner phone he uses to snap pictures of the papers as he goes. It’s dark, but he does what he can with the ambient light. He’ll look at them in more detail later when there’s time to parse the data. Important thing now is just getting it down.
Then he hears the first murmur of the geneticist's voice and stops what he’s doing mid-photo. The paper he’s holding is set down, just as it was before, without a sound.
He shouldn’t reveal himself. Even if there is valuable data right in front of him, can’t get to it without revealing himself. And yet… he remembers when he saw her last. It hadn’t been long before her experiments on Reyes twisted him into something monstrous, destroying his humanity and essentially killing him. Painfully. Turning the once proud hunter into the exact thing he'd despised.
Had she worked for Talon then, too?
Jesse doesn’t remember taking Peacekeeper in his hand. It’s just there, and it feels right at home as he watches the geneticist from the shadows. He can’t target her in front of the monitor. If he has to shoot, he’ll damage the tech. So he gives it another second or two before stepping out and, inhumanly fast, presses the barrel of the gun squarely between her eyes.
There's a momentary flicker of surprise -- and truth be told, it's almost more annoyance at being paused in the middle of her work than shock at the sigh of a gun.
But then she recognizes the face behind it, and her thin lips curve into a cold smile. "Jesse McCree."
He wouldn't find much amiss in her demeanor, to be certain. Moira retains the imperious posture that would have been familiar to anyone working with them back then, though Jesse would of course note that there's no sound of a heartbeat coming from the geneticist. There's also a strange, ethereal scent clinging to the air around her, like loam on a grave.
She, meanwhile, is giving him a clinical once-over with a flick of her mismatched eyes. "The years haven't been kind to you. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"
This really had been a spectacularly bad idea. The only way he can get out of here now without immediately setting off alarms would be to make good on his threat and put a bullet in the geneticist. Maybe more than one, given she’s clearly changed since they last met. She's noticeably less alive for one.
It’s too late for second thoughts at any rate.
“See you’re still a charmer.” His own eyes narrow, never straying from her face with his attention on the periphery of his vision. She doesn’t look armed, but he’ll take note if she reaches for anything. And unlike Symmetra, she won’t be given a benefit of the doubt.
“How long you been on Talon’s payroll for, Moira?"
There's a snarl from nearby, as one of the sedated wolves being held on a nearby operating table stirs, attempting some drowsy semblance of resistance before falling under once more. It's not the only one down here...
But it is the only one still intact and breathing.
Moira doesn't even blink at the disturbance, sighing in a very put-upon manner. "You of all people should understand that circumstances sometimes result in unusual bedfellows. I wanted to further my work, Overwatch sought to restrict me, and Talon offered me the opportunity to see what could be accomplished. It's hardly a difficult choice."
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But there is someone approaching. A vampire, quite like them, and as the door opens the figure of a woman emerges from the elevator. She has a Vishkar uniform about her, though the dress is perhaps slit a little higher than is standard for such things. Black and red, with a strangely pale look to her despite a tanned skin tone.
She pauses just outside the elevator, her red eyes cast about behind the red tint of a visor over her eyes. Searching. Something is amiss here, she's sure of it.
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Thankfully, someone comes up on the elevator before his patience can wear too thin. He assesses her quickly—a vampire, no telling how old or strong. Sharp though, if she’s sensed him already. He slips out from the meager shadows beside the elevator and presses the barrel of his gun to the back of her head.
“Stay quiet now. No sudden movements either. Hands out where I can see ‘em.”
He’d taken out the closest camera just before this subtly enough that they might buy a technical malfunction, but he doesn’t want to test those odds. This has to happen fast, and it has to happen now.
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"You are late."
In a moment she's drawn away, turned to face him with an imperious look that wouldn't have looked out of place on Hanzo, come to think of it. She regards in him a brief once over before making a humming noise, and gesturing for him to follow with a mechanical hand.
"Come. Before anyone else discovers you are here."
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"Don't recall having an appointment."
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She regards him steadily with those unnatural eyes. There is something else within him, not necessarily of the blood. Something she does not trust. But there is little choice. He is what they have to work with.
"We have little time before you are discovered. And I would rather this be taken care of without delay."
A swipe of her card, and the elevator opens once more.
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“Any chance you’re going to explain this before we get to the basement, or nah?”
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She lifts an eyebrow at him, then the gun, before letting out a small sigh. As if he's chewing with his mouth open at the table and she's choosing to hold her tongue for the moment. Get in, McCree. Before she changes her mind.
"You are here, as many are in Oasis, to learn. I can take you where you need to go, to find the information you seek. Do you really require more than that? Surely you can simply start shooting if things do not go to your liking."
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“Fine. But shooting things is still the plan if someone makes a wrong move. Brought plenty of ammo.”
And he’s not about to be shy about that either. He’s been inoculated against a lifetime’s worth of haughty stares by now.
"Not gonna tell me a thing in the meantime, are you?"
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"You may call me Symmetra. For the time being. And what you need to know is that we share a common goal." Her gaze cuts sideways towards him. "Difficult as that may be to accept, for a former hunter."
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"Nothin' former about it," he replies gruffly, ignoring for a moment the fact that he hasn't been on a proper hunt in ages.
"But sure. I'll bite, Symmetra. And you're just going to let me leave this facility when we're done with tea and chit-chat down there."
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Her lips thin tensely, and its clear that she's weighing a great deal in her mind before straightening, composing herself once more. "We were meant to be making the world a better place. This, there is no excuse for. The sooner this project of theirs is terminated, the better for all."
Her eyes return to the numbers, following their descent. Then, a few floors short of their goal, she extends one hand. Not a flesh and blood limb, but of the same elegant composition of many robotics within the city. Something in her palm flickers and glows brightly.
The elevator suddenly grinds to a halt, the blue lights changed for a flooded red, and the door slides open prematurely.
"They will not expect us from this direction. Come."
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When they exit the elevator, he makes the decision to take his aim off of her. He hopes it’s not a mistake. Especially with that cybernetic hand of hers. He’s more wary of the tech than he is of her vampiric abilities.
“Knowin’ our end goal here would really help me help you.”
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Taking the lead, she steps out into the hall. This one is silent. No movement, no lights save a few ambient glowing points from various hall decorations lazily turning in place. Her heels click softly as she progresses, leading him onward.
"...when we were assigned here to this project, I thought it would mean a life of stability and control, for those who lacked it. I was mistaken. Now I wish to correct that mistake." She glances back at him. "And there are others who wish the same. Some you may be familiar with, I believe."
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“Talon seems to be good at that. They make all sorts of promises, but forget to mention all the dirty work that goes with it.”
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But this is a step too far, even for her.
At long last they appear at a doorway that requires another slip of a keycard. "The labs you seek are below. There is a small shaft meant for delivering samples, but it should be large enough to fit through, for someone of your composition." She gives him another coolly surveying look.
"I will lock the elevator down. They will not be able to reach you, but you will have to navigate your way out on your own. From what I have heard, you are more than equal to the task."
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Best not to think about how many other good people he might have killed, in the name of hunting ‘evil.’
“Thanks for this. I’ll make it count. We’re going to shut ‘em down, and we’re going to help all the people we can doing it.”
People. Monsters. What is even the difference anymore?
“Once this mess is over with and you’re out of here… look us up.” He figures he doesn’t need to elaborate on the ‘us.’ “You and… whoever else you know. Maybe whoever told you about me. Sounds like they’ve got some good sense.”
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"Sense enough to know that any such response would only tighten their own leash." The look on her face is almost a pitying one. Almost. But she quickly resumes that air of cold composure.
"No. We will remain where the most good can be done. We will see this through. You should do the same."
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The only way to do any of it will be to burn it all down. He can almost feel it already, the flames of a burning Talon base flickering at his fingertips. What else could he want but that violence and revenge? He’ll do whatever it takes to get there, and he'll do it alone if he has to. Breaking in here is just the beginning.
When he opens his eyes again, he gives his head a little shake and rubs a hand quickly over his left eye. Another headache he can’t afford. If they’re going to destroy Talon and end this, they need this data. He won’t leave without it.
“I intend to. Good luck then, and remember that offer when Talon isn’t around anymore. You and whoever else you know in the same boat as you.”
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That leaves him only one direction to go. Down into the belly of the labs. The smell of chemicals and solvents creeps upwards, as does the distinct scent of wet dog. Unmistakable anywhere. It's like the mad scientist herself is hard at work even now, and might have a few specimens on hand.
Though whether they're there as security or fodder for her experiments, who can say.
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He treads silently over the tile and keeps an eye open for anything potentially useful. Paper files. Handwritten notes. USB sticks or computers. Things he could make copies of and get out with, hopefully without alerting anyone to the fact that he was even here.
If he’s caught, after all, it’s more than just his head on the chopping block.
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The USBs are kept closer to the main monitor and computer which, unfortunately, appears to be one of the positions the geneticist keeps moving back and forth between as she works.
There is no additional shuffling, at least. So perhaps the beasts aren't loose, after all.
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Then he hears the first murmur of the geneticist's voice and stops what he’s doing mid-photo. The paper he’s holding is set down, just as it was before, without a sound.
He shouldn’t reveal himself. Even if there is valuable data right in front of him, can’t get to it without revealing himself. And yet… he remembers when he saw her last. It hadn’t been long before her experiments on Reyes twisted him into something monstrous, destroying his humanity and essentially killing him. Painfully. Turning the once proud hunter into the exact thing he'd despised.
Had she worked for Talon then, too?
Jesse doesn’t remember taking Peacekeeper in his hand. It’s just there, and it feels right at home as he watches the geneticist from the shadows. He can’t target her in front of the monitor. If he has to shoot, he’ll damage the tech. So he gives it another second or two before stepping out and, inhumanly fast, presses the barrel of the gun squarely between her eyes.
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But then she recognizes the face behind it, and her thin lips curve into a cold smile. "Jesse McCree."
He wouldn't find much amiss in her demeanor, to be certain. Moira retains the imperious posture that would have been familiar to anyone working with them back then, though Jesse would of course note that there's no sound of a heartbeat coming from the geneticist. There's also a strange, ethereal scent clinging to the air around her, like loam on a grave.
She, meanwhile, is giving him a clinical once-over with a flick of her mismatched eyes. "The years haven't been kind to you. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"
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It’s too late for second thoughts at any rate.
“See you’re still a charmer.” His own eyes narrow, never straying from her face with his attention on the periphery of his vision. She doesn’t look armed, but he’ll take note if she reaches for anything. And unlike Symmetra, she won’t be given a benefit of the doubt.
“How long you been on Talon’s payroll for, Moira?"
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There's a snarl from nearby, as one of the sedated wolves being held on a nearby operating table stirs, attempting some drowsy semblance of resistance before falling under once more. It's not the only one down here...
But it is the only one still intact and breathing.
Moira doesn't even blink at the disturbance, sighing in a very put-upon manner. "You of all people should understand that circumstances sometimes result in unusual bedfellows. I wanted to further my work, Overwatch sought to restrict me, and Talon offered me the opportunity to see what could be accomplished. It's hardly a difficult choice."
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just let me know if I should change anything!
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guess who just bought themselves a paid account to get demon icons
ahahahah beautiful
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