Bringing her slender fingers towards her lips, Windowmaker inhaled deeply on her cigarette, savouring how the warmth filled her freezing cold lungs. Her body was so cold due to her lowered heartbeat that smoking was the only way to get through the cold nights she'd spend waiting for her target. Hours it would be sometimes, never knowing when the unfortunate name would step in front of her sights.
That fact may shock a few people, that the most talented death weapon in the world could kill so mercilessly someone and not know the reason why. The truth is Widowmaker hated knowing why, because what if she killed some major CEO of a company one week and the next it was just a guy who happened to spill his coffee on one of the TALON commanders? It would make the kill plain, boring and ultimately not give the purple skinned beauty any of the satisfaction she deserved, to keep her enjoying her work, it was something TALON had to do.
Taking one final drag, sucking right until she could feel the stinging in her succulent discoloured lips, Windowmaker threw the stub into her portable ashtray, while all the time being sure to keep eyes narrowed in on the crosshairs of her scope. It must have been coming to around 4-5 hours that she had been stationed there, and this usually meant the intel about the position was corrupt. Despite the numbness of her entire body she stayed, waiting for the mark… or for the kill to be called off.
Her body was now officially freezing, and to stop herself potentially compromising the mission over her body heat another cancer stick was brought to her lips. Before she could even spark it, however, the cutthroat assassin had the odd feeling she was being watched…
"Oh get off it! You know how bad those things are for your health, love?"
Taking her golden eyes away from her scope, the rifle instantly went back to automatic mode, Widowmakers athletic body easily twisting around onto her back so she could see who the voice had belonged to… Even though she already had a pretty good idea as soon as she heard the thick British accent, "Ah, Bonjour… Mon cherie."
Tracer let out a soft giggle, "Aww how sweet, only our second little get together and you already have a cute nickname for me." Tracers guns where both firmly aimed for Widowmakers head, the latter's long flowing hair slightly dangled over her face from the awkward way Widowmaker had to turn around.
A faint smile played over the Talon agents lips, if there was one think she could rely on whenever she saw Tracer it was her quick wit and her love to show it off, "Well… we could stand around flirting all day… or I could shoot you right 'ere…" Widowmaker slightly lowers her gun towards Tracers bright blue harness, making the smaller girl suddenly feel a lot more uncomfortable, "Something tells me you won't be too talkative after that, non?"
Tracer gulped slightly, twitching from having her accelerator aimed at. In reality, it was stupid that she felt more nervous when it was being aimed at rather than her head, but in her world, the choice between death and Chronal Acceleration was an easy choice, the latter being something she wouldn't even wish upon this French pratt. Coming back from her thought and realising she was still kind of in a Mexican standoff, Tracer gathered her nerves. She couldn't give away her biggest secret to her new rival, "Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but it seems I've done what I came here to do… so I won't waste your time any longer. To be honest part of me wishes I kept quiet a little longer, I'd much rather see your arse than your face, luv."
Ignoring the childish attempt to rile her Widowmaker turned, only to see that her target had just entered an armoured car with windows her rifle wouldn't be able to pierce in a million years. She had failed. Of all the people in this world she never once expected the first person to outsmart her would be that pathetic excuse for an Overwatch agent. Then again she couldn't insult the girl too much, she did have the brains to outsmart her this time. Maybe it was just a matter over underestimating the girl, something she made a mental note never to do again.
As expected, Tracer was gone by the time she turned around, and all that she left was the sense of emptiness in Widowmakers stomach. Her first failed solo mission… and no pleasure from getting a kill. This day couldn't get any worse. Picking up and dusting off her cigarette from before she was so rudely interrupted, she lit it and pressed the earpiece on her visor, "This is Widowmaker, the mission was unsuccessful. I was distracted by an Overwatch agent… somehow she knew where I was and who I was after." After a few seconds of silence, a monotone voice replied to her,
"Understood. TALON will begin research as to whether we have a mole in our ranks immediately. Do you have the identity of the Overwatch agent?"
"Oui, call sign 'Tracer'." There was another brief pause,
"From our intel the only thing we have on her is that she is a resident somewhere in your current location in Kings Row. We can't be sure but she has been spotted at the local 'Hoof & Haunch' on multiple occasions. Up until now she hasn't been a problem and taking out a target that is protected by Overwatch may be unwise due to our lack of intel on their current strength since their recall... Your new mission is to do reconnaissance and get as much intel as you can on Tracer to determine whether she is a threat or just a nuisance. Safehouse Charlie should hold supplies for a month, however we expect you to complete your mission within two weeks. Good luck Widowmaker, and I have been told to ensure you that your failure will not be forgotten when you return."
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Failure wasn't tolerated at Talon, and the only reason such a long leash had been put on Widowmaker was because of her effectiveness in completing mission. Reconditioning was more likely the punishment, but if a satisfactory job can be done with assessing Tracer then perhaps she could get off with a simple slap on the wrist meeting with the commanders.
Still with the lit cigarette in her mouth, Widowmaker pushed her rifle onto her back and made a run for Safehouse Charlie, using her grappling hook to effortlessly swing from rooftop to rooftop silently, covered by the darkness which came with nightfall. After what couldn't had been more than 15 minutes, an exhausted and very cold Widowmaker stood at the door to the safe house, being careful not to attract any unwanted attention as she stumbled around for the keys.
After all the events of today, Tracer still would not leave Widowmakers mind. Everywhere she looked she was reminded of her failure, and of the witty, bubbly girl who orchestrated it all.
Shaking her head Widowmaker made her way inside, consciously ignoring the blush she could feel burning its way onto her cheeks. Immediately as she walked in she took note of her surroundings, that this was probably one of TALONs more functional accommodations, obviously made for undercover missions with fake personal items scattered around. Flicking the switch, a dull light came on in the living/sleeping area. A tired Widow sighed heavily, grabbing the duvet from the small single bed in the corner and wrapping it around her tightly before searching the draws and cupboards for anything she could entertain herself with. Sleep never came easy to her, so any sort of music or portable dvd player would be perfect to lull her high functioning brain to a deep slumber.
After a few minutes and on the verge of giving up, a smile creeped upon her slender lips. Gently she gripped on the two wires and pulled them out their draw, her smile slowly turning into a soft chuckle. What she found was an old Ipod Unlimited. This was the first ever music device that granted the user an unlimited amount of storage space for their songs. The device was revolutionary at the time, and eventually led to the hard drives capable of holding an entire consciousness… but right now Widowmaker was only concerned with one thing, "Oui… cela va faire…"
Flicking through a few of the songs as she laid herself out on her single bed, Widow was surprised at how many songs where on this device, clearly whoever it used to belonged to had it for some time. Suddenly her eyes lit up, and she placed in her headphone wires while the angelic tone of classical music rushed over her… She was out within minutes, and that same song was all she listened to all night, a crooked smile planted on her lips as a certain Overwatch agent crept into her dreams.
' Black dress with the tights underneath,
I got the breath of the last cigarette on my teeth,
And she's an actress, actress,
But she ain't got no need.
She's got money from her parents in a trust fund back east.
Tongues always pressed to your cheeks,
While my tongue is on the inside of some other girl's teeth,
Tell your boyfriend if he says he's got beef,
That I'm a vegetarian and I ain't fucking scared of him.
[Chorus 2x:]
She wants to touch me.
Whoa, oh,
She wants to love me.
Whoa, oh,
She'll never leave me.
Whoa, oh, whoa, oh, oh, oh,
Don't trust a hoe,
Never trust a hoe,
Won't trust a hoe,
'Cause a hoe won't trust me.
Xs on the back of your hands,
Wash them in the bathroom to drink like the bands.
And the set list, set list
You stole off the stage
Has red and purple lipstick all over the page.
Bruises cover your arms.
Shaking in the fingers with the bottle in your palm.
And the best is, best is
No one knows who you are.
Just another girl alone at the bar.
[Chorus]
Shush, girl, shut your lips.
Do the Helen Keller and talk with your hips.
I said, shush, girl, shut your lips.
Do the Helen Keller and talk with your hips.
I said, shush, girl, shut your lips.
Do the Helen Keller and talk with your hips.
Whoa, oh, whoa, oh, whoa, oh.
[Chorus] '