Title: Reannex
Characters: Zenyatta, Bastion. (Dva, Tracer.)
Note: Idea goes kudos to Nerubian Assassin, and also anyone else who suggested more Bastion and/or Zenyatta. Also, thank you for the kind reviews, I do feel a little better - hot water bottles solve everything, ahaha..
Rapid Fire Round
- Hahaha, accepted. Ana is always teasing McCree offscreen, so it's about time for her to nudge Tracer in the right direction.
- Sniper duel/rivalry accepted
- Crazy games night accepted
- Guest: Hah, I understand. Tracer/Reaper isn't for everyone. I'm not going to try and throw reasons or excuses to 'make it work.' I had even typed a big long paragraph about how I ship them and such until I decided against it. You do you.
I just hope you (and others) can enjoy the other chapters that aren't related to that specific plotline. There's bound to be something someone doesn't like, but there should be more than enough other stuff, right? If you do have questions regarding it, please PM me. I don't really want to answer through reviews like this ^^ - Guixi
When Genji missed his daily meditation session, Zenyatta was not surprised, nor was he annoyed.
Through the Iris, he could see endless possibilities, like continuously flowing split roads of choices to make and their outcomes. He had long accepted, either good or bad, that the outcomes were not preordained, and would embrace them as they came. He had hid a surge of joy when Genji had been dropping small, subtle hints about his growing compassion regarding a certain Swiss doctor. It delighted him to see his hesitance and uncertainty, his soul slowly moving on from the defilement it suffered with coming to terms with his new body.
He had worked himself in a worry that was only noticeable by his master, of course. His strikes on training dummies were a little more impactful; his dual tones short but peppered with anxiety to those who had the ear for such a thing. In the end, he had opted to officially state his point of view through a reassuring clasp of the shoulder, advising him that Angela was one of the most empathic humans he had the pleasure to meet.
That seemed to be blessing enough from Zenyatta, and not a day or so later after that small exchange, Athena had explained to him that Genji (and Mercy,) had requested flight to Hanamura, and currently resided in the arcade, when the Omnic had tried to locate where his wayward student had gone off too. It still warmed the processors in his core to know that someone who had been so full of discord could overcome all odds, overcome the world abandoning them, thanks to a few helping, merciful hands.
It was not always the case. He remembered the first mention of Mercy he had come to know through Genji's bitter mutterings, citing she and Overwatch as the reason for him becoming what he had. Zenyatta opposed, but he let his student come to terms with himself. The Omnic had the pleasure of watching his journey from hatred, to begrudging respect, and now..? If he possessed lips, he would be smiling.
It did throw his schedule a bit out of a loop, however, and he found himself with a block of time, unknowing what to do with it. He could meditate, but the sessions themselves were more for his student than himself, and he had grown so accustomed to having a partner that it felt.. unbalanced to meditate alone. In the monastery, they often had huge sections of time dedicated to remain in silence. The gentle hum of his brothers and sisters were his chants to take refuge in.
Zenyatta was never aimless when he wandered. There was always a purpose behind it, even if he himself did not yet know it. It did not matter – for the Iris knew. He remained content, unaffected by the various pointed glances thrown his way when he hovered past a few open doorways.
His hands clasped, resting neatly on his lap as he slowed down, predicting Tracer blinking right smack in front of him long before he had heard her accelerator whirl up. A perky smile was on her face, even if he could see past the strained, injured mask and witness the turmoil within and beamed brightly at him.
"Hi, Zenny!" she greeted, brown hues shining with mirth. "This must be your first day without Gee, huh? Fancy him nickin' the doctor for himself! God, McCree can't stop grinning like a fool – he must have sent a hundred.. erm, encouraging texts to him."
"Greetings, Miss Oxton." the omnic started, politely, though head tilted just a notch at her impromptu shortening of his name. He rather liked it, actually. "I do not usually condone selfishness, but if there are two who deserve to enjoy themselves the most, I believe it is them. As for your significant other, perhaps you could gently urge him to let my student be. This is the first step he has taken towards a lighter path that I have come to witness in a long time."
There was bemusement underlining the rich, cascading synthetic voice Zenyatta had. It was a soothing cadence, with worldly wisdom sowed into it's inflection and harmonious enough to be a song of peace in of itself, or that one could listen to for hours. Nevertheless, that did not stop the pixie of a woman from her cheeks flaring up, hands waving in frantic gesture.
"Significant – Oh, no, no, McCree and I aren't – Don't get me wrong, he's a very nice man, a bit goofy, sweet and handsome and, God, I can't believe I just said that. What I mean is -"
As she continued to dig herself deeper in a grave, her own voice upping in pitch and speeding up, hitting incredible records with how fast she spoke. The Omnic monk chuckled softly, catching her attention and stopping her dead in her tracks, managing a measly, flustered grin.
"A humble mistake. My apologies." Though it sounded genuine and she doubted the monk would lie, Tracer couldn't shake off the feeling that he knew more than he let on and was holding back for her sake. After all, Zenyatta was more than happy to offer his guidance, but he followed a strong principal to allow people to figure things out for themselves, with only a tenuous guiding hand from him.
He had put the thought in her mind, that was for sure, judging by the remaining red hue colouring her face and lower lip drawn to be bitten in reluctance. Zenyatta was beginning to realise just how many of the agents repress their true feelings, and it saddened him to know so. He was swiftly drawn out of the enigma of his vast mind by the tinkling sound of her laugh.
"Right – yeah. I'll get Jesse to stop pestering Genji." she ruffled her own hair, offering the monk a thumbs up. "You're more than welcome to hang with us if you just need a bit of company."
Truthfully, he didn't want to intrude on the budding flower between the westerner and the ex-pilot, and merely tilted his head, pondering the best way to decline without offending her. "I appreciate the offer, Miss Oxton, but I'm afraid I don't hang. I float."
Zenyatta left after that to the astonished look of her, catching a brief; 'Jesse, you'll never believe the joke I just heard from Zenny.' as she returned in the room, and he shook his head. He may be younger by creation date, but even he couldn't help but think fondly of the youth. Or perhaps Tracer merely had that effect on people; being so vibrant and full of life, that even despite her tragedies she remained a beacon of goodness and cheer.
He drifted down the hall, humming to himself and finding his own path had taken him towards one of the more emptier areas, but to his knowledge, another Omnic had laid claim to the relatively abandoned space. It had at least, been cleaned up since he first took to it, removing all of the electrical hazards, installing better light fixtures and generally making it a nice little zone for the unit to claim as his own. As such, Zenyatta began to notice additions such as pieces of grass and potted flowers lining the walkways.
A mild surprise overcame him when he saw the teen – Hana Song – reclining against the Bastion unit like it was nothing, looking very grumpy as she flicked over something on her tablet, one hand buried in her fringe as she ran her fingers through the waterfalls of her hair and snorted angrily at something popping up on her screen.
Bastion regarded it's head down to her, beeping in comfort. Zenyatta understood the binary code translated as noise, deciphering it within nano-seconds, but Hana did not possess a super-computer for a mind or had ears that could filter out the digitized mess of chiptune.
"Don't you beep at me with that tone, mister, I'm doing all I can!" she huffed. "Winston's hit a roadblock, Symmetra can't do anything until she gets his work. Even Mei is getting involved, but none of them have specialisation in Omnics."
"The Bastion unit merely stated it is in awe of the level of dedication you and your fellow agents is taking for it, and it appreciates all you have done so far." supplied Zenyatta, causing the girl's head to snap to him, mouth morphing into a small smile as she ducked her head, bashfully.
"A-Ah. In that case, um. Sorry, Bastion – and don't worry about it. Someone's gotta keep an eye on you, right? Might as well be me." she winced at how that sounded, especially given the impossible-to-tell expression of the two robots. Zenyatta was elated to hear something like that, though. It was a reminder that all of his efforts, and the efforts of his brothers and sisters were not all for naught, that their messages do reach some people.
Bastion made it worse by patting her on top of the head in a gesture it had saw Soldier: 76 do, and likely copied it hoping she understood it's meaning. Hana blew a strand of hair out of her face and rolled her eyes benignly.
"Forgive me for intruding, Miss Song," the monk started, index digits tapping together in thought. "But I wonder why you are here?"
"I've been working with Bastion for a while now, trying to get it a voice. Or well, a translator." she offhandedly responded with a small shrug. "It's turning out to be far more complex than we could've hoped. Like, seriously, who designed these things?"
There was a pause of stifling silence.
"Ignore that last part."
"Bastion units were never designed to speak," murmured the floating Omnic, more matter-of-fact than cruel. Their original protocol were peacekeepers and protectors, then later malformed into the soldiers that most humans fear them as. Never in their intended programming was speaking part of the equation. Zenyatta steepled his fingers, as he lacked lips to purse before commenting;
"It would lack the software to support such a function."
Hana stared at him like he had grown a second head, jaw dropping slightly as she processed his words. It seemed like such a simple solution that it would not work, but they had been going at the issue at so many angles, that maybe going back to basics was a must. A fat smile exploded across her face as she hopped up, hands clasping in cheer. It reminded her of all the news stories she had heard about programmers and rubber duckies, which sounded asinine until they were making breakthroughs.
"Zenyatta, you're a genius! Winston was wondering why none of his proposed equations were working. Ugh, why didn't I think just to ask you sooner?!" Hana approached him, throwing her arms around the Omnic in a brief hug of gratitude. Zenyatta's arms pulled back, his float dropping just enough for his legs to untangle and grace the floor and returned the gesture.
"One will sometimes be caught up with the endless possibilities, and it is hard to see the right answer when caught up in the sea of choice." he offered, letting her pull away from the embrace and reward him with a prideful, yet respectful grin.
"Definitely going to have to make a phone app with a bunch of your teachings, Zen." she teased lightly before waving, already starting to head out of the area when she threw; "I gotta tell Winston this. Catch'ya later!" over her shoulder.
Now that left the monk alone with the unit. He drifted to the side of the unit, the orbs surrounding his neck lowering to the edges of his feet as they so often did when he wanted to meditate. Zenyatta did not feel threatened in Bastion's presence – quite the opposite, he knew he would be protected and cared with it's life, if needs be. The tips of his metallic fingers came to slowly trace a petal of a potted flower, smile shown through his tone.
"You have made quite the home for yourself here, Bastion." he mused, drawing his hand away. His companion beeped, and Zenyatta could not help but think it reminded him of communicating birds. He even chuckled to a particular thing the unit said. "Yes, it does seem like that, doesn't it? I'm sure your friend will like your garden as much as you do."
Pleased with itself, Bastion straightened out one of the vases that had been pushed safely to the side when Hana came to visit, given her tendency to be a bit expressive with her arms and it didn't want either of them to get hurt. It's attention was swiftly drawn to the orbs beginning to lilt, the sound of gentle wind chimes emitting from them each time they bobbed up and displayed a small symbol.
He was not quite in his meditative state, and quietly asked; "What is the first thing you will say with your new voice?"
Bastion devoted all of it's processors, power and energy to it's thoughts. There were simply so many things it could say. It wanted to thank Ganymede, for being the first creature since it rebooted to trust it – it wanted to thank Hana for all of the work she had done and devotion poured into it, even if she tried to hide it behind a mask of indifference or cool disrespect.
Eventually, it settled on a series of beeps.
"I see." Zenyatta said. "That is very profound."
By the time Bastion had beeped out another of it's responses, the monk had drifted into deep meditation. Similar to how it witnessed Hanzo do so, the unit mimicked him, head lowering to touch it's chassis and powered down.