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."
There had been a time where Jesse had actually liked Moira. They’d never been friends, but he’d trusted her to have their backs when necessary. He wouldn’t turn his back on her now unless, say, an angry werewolf tried to jump him from behind.
“Yeah, sure it wasn’t a hard decision for you at all. Especially after what you did to Reyes. Couldn’t get away from that mess fast enough, could you?”
He’d been left in the dark about much of the what, how, and why surrounding Reyes’s condition. Why he’d allowed the experiments. What he and Moira had hoped to accomplish. Most of what he knew had been pieced together shortly before and entirely after he’d lost his mentor. He resents Moira for that too, even if his being left in the dark wasn’t her decision.
But he’s not here about that. He has to remind himself that he doesn’t have all the time in the world down here, and dallying could mean ending up on a table like that wolf.
Just one more thing.
“Sure you’re bored of this already, so just tell me one last thing and we can move along. Were you with Talon before Gabe died?”
She surveys him a moment longer, debating going on about her work but no. He'd pull that trigger with little hesitation, wouldn't he. She knew him well enough to know when his blood was well and truly up. Not having a heartbeat himself didn't change that.
"What I did to him was free his potential. Humanity comes with such stark limitations. Surely you understand by now. Just look at you."
One hand gestures openly towards him, the space between them. "This is not death. This is evolving beyond death."
The old hunter sentiment rises up fast and unbidden in his mind. He’s made peace with what he is… for the most part. And his opinion of other monsters has certainly undergone some change here lately. But would he have ever chosen this for himself, had he had a choice? Even knowing what he knows now? No.
Moira though? That’s not a huge surprise she turned out like this. His hand tightens on Peacekeeper, finger twitching on the trigger.
“What you did to him was kill him, plain and simple. And you didn’t answer my question.”
Clearly she's enjoying whatever is being held just out of his reach, watching him try to keep composed long enough to get what he came here for. Of course, now that he's here? She has other plans for him. And that oh-so interesting presence that clings to him like a hot desert wind.
"Did it never occur to you that I was simply following orders from the same man you were? Perhaps you simply didn't know our dear Gabriel as well as you thought."
Of course it had occurred to him. Every worst-case scenario has occurred to him in the past eight years of chasing the Reaper and trying to put things right. Not all of them were worth entertaining or following up on, but they’d all kept him up at night at one point or another. Gabriel Reyes had known most, if not all, if Jesse’s secrets, but the reverse had clearly not been true.
So worse than her accusation is that she’s using it to bait him. And that it’s working. Jesse grits his teeth, baring his fangs with a warning growl. It almost feels like he’s been quicker to anger lately overall—stress, no doubt—but this anger at least feels warranted. It’s been a night, and he’s about ready to see if whatever Moira is now can be killed with old-fashioned bullets or not.
or if her blood would taste the same as a vampire’s, don’t you want to know
“Don’t have time to listen to you talk in circles. Guess his secrets died with him.” He motions to the computer behind her with a jerk of his head. “Go on and turn around, real slow, and put in your password. You give me any excuse at all to pull this trigger, I will, so don’t you try anything.”
Of course he might well follow up on that threat. But she shows no sign of concern, mildly amused by the promise of violence if anything. "If you were like the others, we wouldn't be having this conversation. But you're special, aren't you? Twice damned, if you believe that sort of nonsense." She taps her chin thoughtfully, those too-sharp eyes staring as if through him entirely. "I'd be quite interested in seeing how that works, exactly."
Only Moira would find the term “twice-damned” to be a good thing. It’s an uncomfortable reminder how much she knows about him, how dangerous she is, and the liability that comes with letting oneself be known like that. It’s why he had opted to work alone after Reyes. Right up until circumstances had changed.
“Too bad I’m not here to perform.” The way she’s watching him makes his skin scrawl, and it has nothing to do with her inhuman scent or lack of a pulse. She’s looking at him like she wants him strapped down to a table just like one of her specimens.
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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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“Yeah, sure it wasn’t a hard decision for you at all. Especially after what you did to Reyes. Couldn’t get away from that mess fast enough, could you?”
He’d been left in the dark about much of the what, how, and why surrounding Reyes’s condition. Why he’d allowed the experiments. What he and Moira had hoped to accomplish. Most of what he knew had been pieced together shortly before and entirely after he’d lost his mentor. He resents Moira for that too, even if his being left in the dark wasn’t her decision.
But he’s not here about that. He has to remind himself that he doesn’t have all the time in the world down here, and dallying could mean ending up on a table like that wolf.
Just one more thing.
“Sure you’re bored of this already, so just tell me one last thing and we can move along. Were you with Talon before Gabe died?”
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She surveys him a moment longer, debating going on about her work but no. He'd pull that trigger with little hesitation, wouldn't he. She knew him well enough to know when his blood was well and truly up. Not having a heartbeat himself didn't change that.
"What I did to him was free his potential. Humanity comes with such stark limitations. Surely you understand by now. Just look at you."
One hand gestures openly towards him, the space between them. "This is not death. This is evolving beyond death."
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The old hunter sentiment rises up fast and unbidden in his mind. He’s made peace with what he is… for the most part. And his opinion of other monsters has certainly undergone some change here lately. But would he have ever chosen this for himself, had he had a choice? Even knowing what he knows now? No.
Moira though? That’s not a huge surprise she turned out like this. His hand tightens on Peacekeeper, finger twitching on the trigger.
“What you did to him was kill him, plain and simple. And you didn’t answer my question.”
Which is also not a huge surprise.
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Clearly she's enjoying whatever is being held just out of his reach, watching him try to keep composed long enough to get what he came here for. Of course, now that he's here? She has other plans for him. And that oh-so interesting presence that clings to him like a hot desert wind.
"Did it never occur to you that I was simply following orders from the same man you were? Perhaps you simply didn't know our dear Gabriel as well as you thought."
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So worse than her accusation is that she’s using it to bait him. And that it’s working. Jesse grits his teeth, baring his fangs with a warning growl. It almost feels like he’s been quicker to anger lately overall—stress, no doubt—but this anger at least feels warranted. It’s been a night, and he’s about ready to see if whatever Moira is now can be killed with old-fashioned bullets or not.
or if her blood would taste the same as a vampire’s, don’t you want to know
“Don’t have time to listen to you talk in circles. Guess his secrets died with him.” He motions to the computer behind her with a jerk of his head. “Go on and turn around, real slow, and put in your password. You give me any excuse at all to pull this trigger, I will, so don’t you try anything.”
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"No. I don't think I will."
Of course he might well follow up on that threat. But she shows no sign of concern, mildly amused by the promise of violence if anything. "If you were like the others, we wouldn't be having this conversation. But you're special, aren't you? Twice damned, if you believe that sort of nonsense." She taps her chin thoughtfully, those too-sharp eyes staring as if through him entirely. "I'd be quite interested in seeing how that works, exactly."
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“Too bad I’m not here to perform.” The way she’s watching him makes his skin scrawl, and it has nothing to do with her inhuman scent or lack of a pulse. She’s looking at him like she wants him strapped down to a table just like one of her specimens.
“Now don’t make me waste a bullet.”
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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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