Chapter Text
It strikes her like a lighting bolt. It's not just practice anymore, this is the real deal. Talon is at war with Overwatch. And with Doomfist being gone, things take a different turn. And not so predictable, as it turns out.
The data about Vendetta is little to none. She basically just pounced and asserted her place as if it was her birth right, that's about it. Well, it kind of was.
At least, that's what is known till now. Gabriel Reyes, Olivia Colomar and Amélie Lacroix were found to abandon Talon under the reign of the new leader. What their motivation was, and further information about the future of their trio is unsure. Though, it is still closely monitored and made sure they stay in line and don't try to do anything.
Despite Sojourn's calm and collected attitude, there was a hint of uncertainty through her speech. Indeed, she is a great leader and a woman of power... Yet Overwatch still tries to stand steadily on both its legs, since the recall and forces of the null sector denting its surface. It was a successful fight though.
Lúcio has since joined the team and honestly he's one of the people genuinely having any good morale. Ola still can’t shake the disbelief on how he manages to stay this positive in situations like this.
But… If we fail this, Overwatch might be gone forever again, and—
Damn it. Shut it for once, Aleksandra. Try being optimist for a while, okay? She shakes her head lightly, trying to think of things more positively.
Ola takes a look around the table. There are few familiar faces, and also less recognizable ones. But a thing that makes them united at the moment is this... blank look on their faces. This strange tension, words that are not spoken out loud.
...
Sojourn gives the agents a short time off, to recollect their thoughts and have a talk with all of the other agents commissioned on Watchpoint.
The young agent walks outside the rocky entrance of the briefing room, the rays of sun hitting her face harshly again. She winces a bit, fetching the pair of sunglasses Fareeha gave her and sliding them onto her slender face.
The weather's too nice for the current events, that thought flying over her mind for a brief moment. Ola takes a seat on the ground, the concrete feeling a bit warm under her body.
Fareeha's probably too busy right now for a talk, that's for sure. It might be a little selfish for Aleksandra wanting to take her precious time, given the position they’re in. This ain't no playground now.
There won't always be people cheering you on, god damn it.
That might be one of the worst things about herself, she thinks every now and then. This overpowering yearn for being seen. Like a moth to a flame.
Countless nights spent worrying. Maybe they’ve taken Ola just as a fill-in. But she has proven her place countless times. That’s not enough. If she really got what it takes to fight for the better, she wouldn’t have to worry. Right?
What if she gets someone in trouble because of her. Hurt or anything else, oh my god— it makes her guts twist just at the thought. If only someone really saw through her right now… She would be damned. And that's really a big understatement.
Ola feels like smashing her stupid head against the ground, because no matter how many times it'll be said to her, shown to the young agent— it just won't go through her thick skull.
That maybe, just maybe she is actually worth something in the end.
A few agents stroll past Aleksandra, a gentle gush of wind flowing behind them. She lets out a sigh of relief, her heart coming to a calm consistent thump. No one’s bothering her now.
Yet, there's something that feels off, this... Before she can think of it, the blonde woman's head snaps up, hand flying over the eyes to get a more clear look of... well, who even is that?
Bright pink hair in a bun, sharp features. Maybe five or ten centimeters taller than her... and a physique of a damn power machine. She could pick her up and throw like a ragdoll if she damn wanted to. Ola steals a quick glance up and down the taller woman.
Maybe she’ll convince her once she knows who she even is, she thinks idly.
The confusion seems to be mutual, the furrow in the woman's face seeming to deepen. "I look weird or what?" she draws out, in genuine and pure confusion. Her thick accent throws Ola off for a moment, there's only a few people with enunciation like that here, Wilhelm to name a few.
The pink-haired woman slowly sinks down to the ground, her elbow propped on her knee. The woman tilts her head, her eyes drifting to the girl beside curiously. "You're the new recruit, no?"
Aleksandra shifts her weight, her leg unknowingly grazing against the taller woman’s thigh. Ola sucks in a breath, unsure of what to do or say at the moment. So, she just awkwardly sits squished next to the woman, her legs shuffling around to assume some comfortable position to sit in.
She seems to take the hint, shifting a bit away from the shorter woman. "Oh, sorry," she mumbles under her breath, her mouth curving to a soft apologetic smile. She adds a bit amused, “I forgot that I take up a bit more space than most of the people.”
Ola snorts a laugh, the words taking her off-guard.
The muscular woman continues, her elbows resting on her knees, arms crossed. "So... it seems like we're gonna work together. Alongside others, of course. You have it in you, so I've heard," she says, a gleam of fascination in her gaze. The arch in the recruits brow deepens.
Though, she smiles for a split second at the mention of hearing good things about her. "Depends on the messenger," Ola mumbled, a light smirk creeping up her mouth. "I haven't seen you around much," she added, her words half-true. She never seen her before, but admitting that for some reason feels too awkward right now.
But it was the truth. It's been quite some time as an official member of Overwatch, and she hasn't introduced herself to many people yet. Even before recall, she wasn’t truly in the ranks of the organisation. She did her parts, yes. But still too young and inexperienced. It all went shitty shortly afterwards anyways.
So, she just waited and waited for what felt like an eternity, wishing she’ll hear from them ever again. And to her surprise, she actually did. And, here we are now.
The pink-haired woman seems to think for a moment, propping herself up with her arms as she looks into the distance, a gentle wind rushing through the two of them. "I was away for quite a while from here," she responds, fidgeting with her hands.
Her gaze drifts to the shorter woman again, while she adds, "Can't say much. Top secret and things..." she lets out a laugh, her expression turning more stern. She raises her hands in defence. "Okay, maybe not. I had something to do, that's all".
Ola nods her head, shoulders slumping slightly. A part of her was expecting some interesting backstory to be told, even if it was a bit of a silly request. The eyes of the young agent trail to study the unknown woman’s form again, a few more details visible from this position.
There's a scar covering a part of her forehead, near her right eye. It takes up a huge patch of her face, it's a deep one also. It might not be the best time to ask about things like that, at least not yet. It sure looks badass, though.
She's wearing this kind of tracksuit, covering most of her skin. It seems to be rather thin, the skin showing through the dark fabric. Or maybe it’s not enough material to cover all of those muscles, even if she wanted to.
Why would she want to? She probably doesn’t. Alright, that's weird Ola. Stop it.
Aleksandra swats her head mentally, before she resumes her little observation. And there’s her shoulders, too. Her arms are like, twice the size of her own. What the fuck, the words threathening to be mustered aloud. And apparently she had been told she bares some muscle too. Which to her, at this moment feels more like an insult.
She could basically crush me with those hands with no effort whatsoever...
Damn, she's ripped as hell.
The woman perks up her head suddenly, a flash of surprise on her face. "Hmm?"
—!
She swears her heart actually skipped a beat, or two and more. Ola’s stupid smile fades down. She tries to play it cool, which she obviously doesn't.
The faintest tug of her lips return. "I said you're cool as hell," the agent manages to say, nodding sharply. Convincing herself more than the woman beside her. As if she didn't just freaking embarrassed herself before a colleague who she’ll have to work with for the next few months, probably.
Real smart as ever.
Fortunately, the other woman says nothing. Ola can just pray she didn't actually hear or misheard anything, or she now decides whether to catch her ass later. Actually, that’s a bit hilarious when she thinks about it now. She wouldn’t be so mad about this either.
She simply smiles back, a bit amused. Aleksandra’s uneven heart thuds softens for a moment, thank god. The woman chuckles lightly. "Heard that before," she murmurs, absentmindedly turning a rock in her hand.
The woman snaps her head, eyeing the shorter woman down before she speaks up, a bit uncertain at first. "How do they call you, recruit?"
Ola blinks, a bit taken aback. Right, the whole time here they haven’t asked for a name or such. So, now might be the best time.
The agent sits more upright. "Name's Aleksandra," she says with her chin leaning upwards. "Or Ola, for short. Nobody calls me long form anyway".
A flash of genuine shock seemed to enter the pink-haired woman's face for a second, immediately followed by a burst of laughter.
She frowns. “You serious?”
Ola's face creases too, a bit confused. “Yeah, why?”
She adds, abruptly. “Interesting”. Then, a smile forms on her mouth briefly.
“The thing is, that's also my name," she explains, amusement evident in her voice. She clears her throat, as she continues. "Though, just call me Zarya, it's more convenient".
Ola nods. While their names might be the same, they surely do not look anything alike. "Zarya it is, then. Sounds nice to say," the short haired woman mutters, followed by a chuckle. "Mine's too basic to be cool like yours".
Zarya props her head against the palm of her hand again, watching the recruit from the corner of her eye. She shakes her head with a huff of breath, a few amused laughs slipping past. "It means dawn in Russian," she explains, her eyes following the agent’s blue ones with a curious gleam.
"But if it's bothering you that much, we can think of some nicknames for you. Maybe as cool as mine," she adds after a beat of silence, an amused chuckle rumbling in her chest. "Just maybe".
It would be nice, indeed. Even if that's a bit of a silly idea. Preferably as fast as possible.
A whirl of wind gushes through the two, the agents coming back to the briefing room almost all at once.
Ola’s heart sinks a bit in her chest, as she scrambles herself from the ground along with Zarya. She scrapes off the dirt from her legs.
A sign escapes her mouth. All this chatting had made her forget about this fucked up state of the world for a moment, surprisingly.
Though... she did say that they’re gonna work together. In what way exactly, god only knows for now. They might have more in common than Ola expects to, after all. For once, she’s finally optimistic about something.
Aleksandra tucks her hands into the pockets of her dark sleek pants, walking back to the base for another discussion with Sojourn.
Well, they can all just silently hope it's some good news for once.