The people playing the roles of the game weren't all that different from the characters they were paid to pretend to be, day in and day out. If someone in the game was missing a limb, that wasn't a stylistic choice, but rather a representation of what they actually looked like in their daily life. While the robotic limbs weren't as fun and quirky when they weren't in the game, they were still incredibly functional prosthetics, a perfect fit alongside the real robots that were employed with them. Talking about how people were missing this leg, or that arm, was a fun pastime that everyone took on between shifts in the virtual reality game, but after so many conversations on the topic it was hard to keep partaking in them.

Brigitte hadn't even been part of the Overwatch troupe as an actual member for that long, compared to the decades-long employment some of them had a claim to. She'd heard most of the stories from her father, and the people she enjoyed talking to most didn't really have a story of their own to share, so they talked about what they knew from everyone else, sprinkled in with their own mindless conversation. She loved her job, her mechanical prowess translating to being a mechanic-based healer that people really seemed to like selecting as one of their characters in their missions, but when she wasn't selected she liked it more when her downtime was spent learning about the person she was talking to, not secondhand gossip about someone else.

Another round was in the character selection stage, and she was mentally preparing herself for the costume selection she was going to have to make if she was chosen—it was the holiday season and people were tending to stay away from picking her because she didn't have a dedicated holiday costume to get into. She could see a few of the others who'd already been picked, them already changing into whatever their "player" had wanted for them to be in, and once a few of the other healer-classed people had been selected her hopes were brought down to zero. Yet another match where sugarplum fairies and spooky monsters were going to reign supreme, while she was left sitting around waiting for the next match was about to begin.

All non-selected people were sent out of the arena to spend their time doing whatever they wanted, as long as they stayed in the building, and Brigitte went straight to where she usually met up with the rest of the young actors. To her surprise, after thirty seconds of sitting there by herself, it wasn't one of the usual people who came to visit with her, but rather one of the robotic members of the troupe that she'd barely spoken with, despite their similar roles. "How atypical, Lúcio being selected when the possibilities of knocking an opponent off the stage are minimal," a kind, computer-generated voice said, as the robot floated to the open seat next to Brigitte. "I must say, the opportunity for us to speak never seemed like it would come up."

"Might be something to do with his collection of skins, the players really love getting into the holiday spirit," Brigitte replied, scooting over a bit to make sure the robot had plenty of room. "But that wouldn't explain you not getting picked, Zenyatta, you've got the coolest skin of all. A nutcracker, a simple machine that all of us can appreciate."

"The praise is appreciated, Brigitte, but unnecessary. What pride will a robot get from such heartfelt comments?" There was zero change in inflection in his voice as Zenyatta spoke, something that made conversing with him unnerving, but Brigitte was used to talking to robots, even if it wasn't this one in specific. "The point remains that it seemed like we would never get the chance to speak uninterrupted. You typically have Hana or Lúcio around to keep you company when not in match, but now that you are free would you mind having a conversation with me?"

"I don't see why I wouldn't want to have one. What's on your mind?" Mentally chiding herself for just asking a robot what he was thinking about, Brigitte watched as Zenyatta grabbed one of her hands and lifted it, spreading her fingers apart to reveal darkly-etched words in the skin. "Oh, is it about my hands? You're not…going to shame me for still having my soulmate words, are you?"

"Shaming? I know nothing of shaming someone. I was merely curious about what the words are like to have, and most everyone who still has them likes to be secretive." He pulled her hand in closer to his face, robotic eyes unblinking yet still reading the words silently to himself, only to say, "My understanding of Swedish is admittedly very weak, would you translate for me?"

She recognized that question as a polite way to get around her saying the exact words on her hand and causing herself pain for doing so. "It's a compliment on someone's cat, and their words are about how I'm welcome to pet it. Wholesome conversation to find out you're meant to be with someone, and totally not surprising for me to have it."

"It limits your chances of finding your soulmate around here, being in Swedish. The only other person I know speaks the language fluently is your father." Zenyatta let go of her hand, and she brought it back to where it had been sitting on her leg, only for him to move closer to her, his cold metal body brushing against her arm. "You do not seem to be bothered by this development, why might that be?"

"I don't know, right now I'm just focused on being part of Overwatch, maybe when I get tired of this game I'll start looking for love." Bringing her hands together and having them rest in her lap, Brigitte found herself thinking about the possibility that she'd never get tired of her job and therefore never find her Swedish-speaking soulmate, and it made her curious about a specific aspect. "Say, Zenyatta, you've been around this for a while, right? Have you seen people come and go for love?"

He took a moment to process her question before coming to an answer. "I cannot say that I have seen anyone leave, but I know that people have. Most of the actors here have not been lucky in finding their soulmates, and those that have tend to find them outside of the group. In fact, the number of pairs I know of within our ranks is nearly zero."

"But not quite zero," Brigitte pointed out, her fingers fidgeting as she tried masking what was written on her hands despite knowing he already knew it was there. "Which means there are people here who have to look down on those of us who don't have soulmates around."

"Unlikely, and there is no need to think that way. Why, outside of the few that I know with certainty that their hands are clear, most of them are hiding the same reality you are." Once again Zenyatta was reaching for Brigitte's hand, and she hesitated on unlacing her fingers to give it back to him but chose to do so simply because he wasn't trying to cause any issues. "I know that there are many names you could throw out right now and I could tell you that their hands are just as marked as yours."

Different possibilities crossed her mind to give up as suggestions, but she stopped herself before every single one for some reason or another. Her first instinct had been to suggest Moira, whose claw-like hands were typically folded in front of her when she was idly sitting around, but then she remembered how many times she'd seen her fingers fully spread and the dark marks etched into the skin. After her came both of the Shimada brothers, but she could recall seeing Hanzo's hands frequently when he was notching arrows into his bow to show off, his fingers marked in characters she didn't recognize, and Genji had talked a few times about how he'd never found his soulmate and could still feel the phantom burn of his hands whenever he said or heard what he'd known to be written on them.

Her mouth curled to the side as she tried coming up with someone whose hands she didn't frequently see, but everyone that kept coming to mind either hid their hands at all times, didn't have one or both hands to speak of, definitely had a soulmate at some point and she knew it, or definitely had their words still on their skin. "What about the new lady, what's her name?" she finally spat out, hoping that if anything, she had stumped Zenyatta into not having an answer to give. "She's got to have some kind of love story attached to her."

"Unfortunately, as far as I have gathered, Ashe is just as deep into her search for her proper soulmate as so many of you are. She has loved, she has lost, but she has never found her fated connection." There was a pause, as Zenyatta looked out towards where some of the other unpicked combatants were hanging around, and he rose from where he'd been sitting. "I have enjoyed this discussion with you, miss Lindholm, and I hope that you have found some answers with me just as I have found answers with you. There are many others I'd like to converse with before the next match, so until we meet on the battlefield or over here once more, I bid you farewell."

As he headed back towards everyone else, Brigitte found herself merely waving her farewell to him, not knowing if there was anything else to say. He'd been there to look at her hands and see what soulmate situation she was in, and she'd dragged him into a bit of curious conversation about what he knew. For being a robotic member of a virtual reality fighting troupe, Zenyatta sure did know more about the people around him than actual people did, and perhaps if they did have another conversation she'd be able to learn more from him.

Until then, it was going to be back to the old routine, except maybe with some newly-discovered gossip with Hana and Lúcio about who might have their soulmate right there in Overwatch, and who might be like the three of them and looking for their loves elsewhere.


A/N: happy Soulmate AU Christmas, part three!

The AU here is that everyone is born with their first meaningful (as in, romantically charged) words exchanged with their soulmate plastered on their hands. This also happens to be my first time dabbling in writing Overwatch fic, which was a lot of fun for me to do!