6 O'clock sharp. That's the time Widowmaker woke up every day, whether she had a mission or not.
Something inside of her made her think it was the reconditioning that did it, but she could never be sure. How could even the scientists at Talon rewire a human beings basic need to sleep until fully rested? Then again, her blue tinted skin was proof of just how far the braniacs would go to create the perfect human weapon.
Hesitating for a moment, Widowmaker begrudgingly opened her heavy eyelids to the flashing of the same red numbers on her nightstand as every other morning. In a way, something inside her wished it wasn't 6:00 and instead was 6:05, or even 6:01. As much as she wanted it she couldn't... even just the thought was blasphemy. Whether it to give the finger to the smartasses that put her mind through hell or to cling to the small amount of humanity she hoped she still had, she wasn't sure she'd ever truly know until those red flashing numbers she saw when she woke up weren't the same. That was, if that day would come at all…
Shaking her head Widowmaker woke herself up, ripping the headphones from her ears with a gentle tug before sitting up calmly on her bed. Most people when they wake up have a few seconds of sleep mode, either letting their body get up and do their morning routine without so much of a second thought, or just tune out the world completely, allowing their minds to daydream and forget the constraints of their dull daily lives… but not her. In that sense, she wasn't human. Her brain working to its full potential and running through her objectives for the day like she hadn't even been to sleep at all. Forced to begin her day with all the care and diligence in the world.
Firstly, she had a mission to complete, and that meant getting up and cleaning all the equipment she might need for today. For this day in particular her goggles and rifle would be too obvious, so she settled for the knife she kept strapped to the outside of her thigh.
Secondly, since it was a recognisance mission, she would have to be able to blend in, and that meant selecting apparel that fits with her current location well enough to be considered 'un-noteworthy' as well as applying makeup that covered the blue tinge her skin. After a short time deliberating on her outfit and the rest of the time making sure her skin looked just right, by 7:00 sharp she was ready to start her mission.
The end result of her labour was actually rather satisfying to the eyes, starting with black thigh high boots and a short matching skirt, to stop her blue knees from showing she had to wear some black tights but it was complimented well with the dark grey hoodie and black bodywarmer combo on her midsection. Since it was chilly outside no one should think twice about that or her warm black gloves.
In a way, the stealth part of her mission was a blessing, as it allowed her actually to layer up rather than be in that perverted bodysuit Talon insisted on making her wear. Apparently, the official reason she had to wear it was because of the moral boost anyone on Talons side got when seeing their prized weapon in her 'armour'. When in reality it was little more than another aspect of her life Widowmaker had no control over, shoving her out there in the near freezing cold just because they could.
With everything ready, Widowmaker left the safehouse, checking her make up one last time before finally being satisfied enough to leave in search of 'Tracer'. It's strange, she thought to herself, how nothing is known about this girl. Usually the very least she had to work on was a real name, but with Tracer all she could make do with was a callsign. That and the name of a bar located in the centre of Kings row, which actually is quite hard to find from street level.
That's one of the few things she hated about these missions, she was never allowed to bring her grappling hook. In her mind, it was THE superior piece of equipment, meaning she could see routes her future pursuers would get slowed down by before she was even detected. It was as much as an advantage as a bird in a maze, not having to bother with the endless deadends and simply getting straight to her target. But as she walked around the corner to see the same fish and chip shop she had already passed 3 times that morning, she began to realise that she had been well and truly trapped in the maze. With no way of flying over the hedges.
Letting out a frustrated sigh she decided that following the stubborn idea of just walking in the vague direction it was until she found where she needed to be may not be the best plan of action. Instead, she decided to take a break, wondering into a rather pleasant looking Café that had caught her eye the first time she had passed it, 'Brew'd Awakening'. It looked rather out of place, with the bright colours and pleasant looking flowers hanging from adorable little baskets suggesting it would be better suited to a small corner of Paris than a dodgy looking street on the outskirts of London. That alone made her mind up for her.
Immediately as she walked in Widowmaker was hit with the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans, the sound of people gossiping merrily and, perhaps most prominently, the sight of dozens upon dozens of different baked goods. Walking towards the counter a small man donned in a black apron had the most genuine smile Widowmaker thought she'd seen all day. It was almost a pleasant change from the drab, morbid expressions of the people walking the streets outside.
"Hello, Welcome to 'Brew'd Awakening'. What can I get for you today madam?" The mans voice was even chirpier than his face, so much so that it unsettled Widowmaker, who couldn't fathom of being that happy herself without literally killing someone in the process.
"Bonjour, I would like a Café au lait s'il vous plait." The young man typed something into his register and the apparent excitement he did it with made Widowmaker feel sick.
"Ok, that will be £2.50. What name is that under please, madam?"
"Umm… Willow. Merci." The question kind of hit Widow out of the blue, she wasn't quite sure why she didn't expect it but it still caught her off guard and inwardly she was punishing herself for the lack of judgement. In truth, she knew her name before her reconditioning was Amélie but just didn't care. In her mind Amelie was dead and she had taken her body. It's strange she has never given a thought to what her own name should be other than Widowmaker, but Willow seemed like the right choice for now.
Handing the young man the money she quickly turned around, trying to find a seat before his smile made her throw up. She found one of the only free discreet tables in a corner, settling down on a rather comfortable leather chair. She could now relax in peace and think about how to find the one thing that linked to her target.
Once sat down she took a small tablet looking device out of her bag and started searching for an address where the Hoof and Haunch could be. To her displeasure it seems it must only be a small residence as they didn't have any web presence whatsoever. No matter how many different ways she tried she couldn't find an address for this place and it was thoroughly stressing her out. It was a relief when a waitress dressed in the same black apron as the young man who served her came up with her coffee and a small pitcher of milk.
"Ahh… merci." Only after thanking the waitress and taking her drink did she realise something rather off, "Wait… Excuse Moi…"
The waitress, who was about to make her leave turned back, "Oh, is something the matter, Miss?"
"Oui, your associate asked for my name. And while I 'ave been sat 'ere several peoples name where called out for them to collect their orders… so why did you bring this to me when you should have called my name out like the rest?" Widowmakers eyes were looking at the waitress with an accusing glare. Was she an assassin? A waitress hired to kill the infamous Widowmaker by poisoning her coffee? That's if she was even a waitress at all…
"Oh well… umm…" The blonde haired girl stood awkwardly for a moment, trying to gather her words. Widowmaker could see a blush forming on the girls cheeks and it caught her rather off guard. Eventually though, the girl seemed to gather the small ounce of confidence she needed to look at Widowmaker with a small smile and quietly say, "It's just… you're probably the most beautiful person I've seen in here… a…anywhere really… and I came over to umm ask…"
Widowmaker instantly dropped her glare, realising that the woman wasn't an assassin but simply wanted to ask her out. Strangely this wasn't the first time this had happened, and to her annoyance Widowmaker doubted it would be the last.
"…. If maybe you'd want to go to get a... a drink tonight? I know a nice place called the Hoof and Haunch and…"
Widowmakers ears pricked up, this is the first she's heard anyone speak of the bar all day. Weighing up her options, it dawned on her that the girl probably wouldn't be willing to tell her where the place was if she was to reject her offer. And even if she did, it could create a scene and draw attention if this girl sees Widowmaker there after making up some excuse. There was always the option of following the girl after she finishes work but having to follow on foot with barely any knowledge of Kings Row may just make her more lost than she is already. It seems the easiest way to get the location of the bar was to go with this girl, if Tracer was there then great, if not she would know the location and be able to return whenever she pleased.
"I….Uhh… take that as a no then?" Widowmaker was pulled back from her thought with the blonde trying not to look too hurt, but failing miserably. Clearly she had taken her thoughtful silence as a bad sign. Internally wincing, Widowmaker let her face drop as she eyed the blonde with a lustful glare.
"Hmmm… So you are asking me out on a romantic evening, non?" Making her accent heavier always seemed to work when seducing people, and today was no exception. The waitress smiled, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red while her body relaxed a little. She looked new to asking random strangers out to drinks, but Widowmakers question seemed to give her a confidence boost.
"Well… I wouldn't say romantic. More of a me treating a beautiful woman to a drink or two." Widowmaker smiled, this girl was like putty in her hands.
"Ahhh, I see. Tell me, la Mignonne… What do they call you?" The girl looked at the ground again, brushing a piece of golden hair behind her ear,
"It…it's Morgan. My name that is… I mean that's what they call me too…."
"Well, Morgan, I don't see any way I could refuse this offer. To spend an evening in the company of a delightful looking woman, such as yourself, I would be a fool to refuse, non?" As she said this, Widowmaker began to lean forward. Her glare focusing on Morgans rather adorable sea blue eyes, the younger captivated in Widows deep golden stare. In truth, Widowmaker thought that Morgan was a beautiful woman. She was breath taking but in a rather natural way with her small, button nose and petite body with just the right amount of curves… If she wasn't on a mission she may have passed the time by giving this girl an unforgettable evening in more ways than one… but she was on a mission and that came first.
"Oh… wow. I finish at 6... where shall I pick you up?"
Widowmakers smile persisted, even though acting so romantic without sounding ironic was becoming a struggle. She hated that side of seduction, but knew it was completely necessary to get the information she needed so soldiered on, "Oh non, non! I will be here at 6, I don't mind you buying me a drink but I am no damsel, amoureux. I prefer to drive than be a passenger… So to speak."
Gleefully catching the intended innuendo, the girl nodded, and agreed to be ready and waiting for six o'clock. But before she left the waitress made a quick turn and blew Widowmaker a kiss, which the older girl caught with a large smile. Seemingly happy Morgan went back to work with a spring in her step while Widowmaker sat back in her chair. Once Morgan had turned she frowned and flicked the kiss away, just holding onto the imaginary act of affection making her stomach turn. Right now though, even the impending 'date' she was about to go on couldn't stop her from smiling, her red lipstick covered lips letting out a small whisper before wrapping around her coffee mug and enjoying her now free day…
"Mon Cheri... tu peux toujours courir, mais on te trouvera toujours..."
