Work Text:
D.Va upladed a new video! There's a known athlete in the header with her, a weight-lifting champion by the name of Zaryanova.
The title is "Breaking world records (not me lol)".
D.Va's face greets the camera upon clicking play.
"Hey guys!" she says, image shaking with her hand. "And happy birthday to me! We're gonna do some weights today, but you guys know weights aren't really my thing. So who better to accompany me than-" the camera shifts to let Zaryanova in the shot next to D.Va "-Aleksandra Zaryanova herself, who actually holds the lifting record!"
Zarya gives a little greeting. Her palm is as big as D.Va's head.
"Oh Zarya", D.Va says, fake pout drawing attention to the gloss on her lip, "I forgot. What is the record?"
Zarya beams. She turns sideways, showing the tattoo on her left shoulder. "It's 512 kilos, I got it almost a year ago. Great day." She nods to herself, as if experiecing the day again. "Great day."
"Alright so, lots of you work out, and you're probably thinking: but, if Zarya is going to be lifting such heavy weights, how can we be sure she won't be injured? Surely, D.Va can't help her at five hundred and a twelve kilos of the gram! Well, I can't. But don't worry, I won't be the one spotting. With us today we have-"
The camera pulls a 180 to show two people sitting on a bench opposite the girls.
"-two old men who also happen to be super-soldiers. I know they look ready to pop a hip but they're actually hella strong. Plus there's two of them and one of Zarya so I think we're pretty safe. Say hi, guys!"
The two men give nods and waves, neither saying anything.
"Okay, don't be like that", D.Va says, still pointing the camera at the old men. "Say hi."
"Hi", the man in black says. His voice is creepily rough compared to D.Va's.
"Good enough", she says, turning the camera back at herself. "Here's the idea! I'm gonna try benchpressing because I can't snatch to save my life. I do about 25, 30 on a good day and with enough stretching on the bench."
"I do 120 easy", Zarya says.
"Showoff."
"Anyway I'll be starting with some squats before I move to snatch. Oh, my record was 232 snatch and 280 on clean and jerk. I'll just try to break that today, just a little bit."
D.Va turns the camera to the men again. "And what will you guys be doing?"
"Pretty much whaterever we find, to be honest", the man in blue says. "We just have to keep at the ready."
"So-" D.Va turns to show her face again "-that's the plan! Let's see how it plays out. Any words before we cut to the montage, Aleksandra?"
Zaryanova thinks about it for a few seconds before her brows shoot up and she turns to leer off-camera. "How much do you think those two weigh?"
The video cuts to a 3/4 view of Zaryanova having both men in fireman's carry and squatting while the two scream incoherently. D.Va is half-collapsed against a wall and holding her sides as if her laughter will pop them out.
The next cut is a sped-up montage of the girls working their way up the weigths, one on the bench and the other at snatch. The two men laze around, true to their word, sometimes helping the ladies and other times doing some excersices themselves. The montage crawls to regular speed when the man in black gets too close to the camera and it shakes and drops.
The man curses, picking it up and putting it back on its perch.
In the next shot, D.Va has a bottle of water in her hand and a wall against her back. "Break time!" she sing-songs. "Well, for me, at least. Zarya's still going. I'm not alone, Jacky here is keeping me company."
She turns the shot to include the man in blue.
"Did you just call me Jacky?"
"I mighta", D.Va drinks from her bottle. "So anyway, Jack. Tell us about your silly mask."
"It's a visor."
"About your silly visor."
"I can't see without it."
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to ridicule your disability aiding. But come on, you could've picked one less ridiculous."
"Why? Its suits me fine."
"It glows."
"That's how I see."
"Why does it cover the rest of your face?"
"For show. I don't really want people knowing I'm alive, Song."
"Well that made sense when you started, but now you're basically out in the open. Who are you hiding from, Jacky?"
"Stop calling him Jacky", the other man, off-screen, says. "I'm gonna lose my shit."
"Why? Is that what he calls his dick or something?"
"Well I mean", is all the other man has time to say before he breaks to hysterical laughter.
D.Va turns to face Jack. He stares back.
"You should be ashamed", she says.
"I never have and never will be ashamed of my dick."
The man off-screen starts coughing from laughing too much. A faint black smoke edges its way on-screen and D.Va swats her hand to clear it out.
"Anyway!" she continues, "Let's not talk about Jacky, let's talk about Jack."
The man off-screen manages to breathe just deep enough to wheeze, "Absolutely do talk about Jacky", before he's consumed by laughter again.
D.Va ignores him. "So, you up for a spitfire question round?" She puts up a hand, interrupting Jack before he can complain. "You can, of course, skip any question if the answer can't be disclosed."
Jack considers for the entirety of two seconds before he agrees.
"Okay, let's see", D.Va puts a finger on her lip. Man, she must really like this gloss to be drawing this much attention to it. "I got it. Are you completely blind?"
"No."
"Are you color-blind?"
"Yes."
"Is what you see with the visor's help the same as you original vision?"
"Not even close, I have the color reception of a cat, but in red."
D.Va pauses. "What's cats' main color reception?"
"Purple, mostly. A bit of yellow."
"What's your favorite animal?"
"Dogs, the bigger the better."
"Do you not like cats?"
"I don't have any particular feelings about animals other than dogs." A pause. "Maybe some birds."
"What birds?"
The man off-screen, who had managed to quiet himself, gives a snort and slides down next to Jack. D.Va shifts the camera to fit all three in the shot.
"Yeah, Jack, what birds?"
Jack groans. "You fucking know I'm being symbolic. I don't care about birds."
"You wound me", the man in black says, gloved hand over his chest.
"Ahem", D.Va goes. "What birds?"
"Let me guess, Jacky", the man says. From the arm he moves to Jack's lap (not in the shot), he might've well been talking to the dick rather than the man. "I'm gonna guess shrikes and sparrows. Ooh, doves, maybe, for an angel? And I'm gonna guess you despise owls. Oh, so much, they're the worst. Especially barn owls, right? Don't even get you started on those." He leans his weight on Jack. "Did I get that right?"
"...Most of it", Jack says. It's impossible to say with the mask, but he might be smiling. "You lost it at the end though."
"...What's your favorite animal, Gabriel?" D.Va says.
"Barn owls", the man in black says with a little tap to his mask. "But I used to really like dogs."
"Used to?"
Gabriel laughs instead of answering. The black smoke comes back into the shot again. "It's not my spitfire round."
"Piss off then!" Jack says, kicking Gabriel out of the shot with both feet, falling backwards on D.Va, who, in turn, falls sideways, moving an arm too late to keep her balance, camera flicking upwards as she groans.
The video cuts to another sped-up workout montage, during the entirety of which the two men run laps around the room. The montage ends with D.Va picking up the camera from its stand to go sit by Zarya's side, now that she's also taking a break. They're both sweaty and sticky.
"Where are you at, Zarya?"
"About 104. You?"
"Like, 20. Benchpressing is weird when I haven't been in my mech for a while."
"Really?"
"Yeah it's like. It works the exact muscle group I work in my mech, but the position is wrong and the handle and the gravity, you know?"
In the background can be heard a conversation too quiet to catch, accompanied by two pairs of running shoes. It comes and goes as the men run their laps.
"Not really", Zarya says. "I mean, I'm doing snatch and clean and jerk here when it's little more than deadlift in combat, but I'm still on my feet, lifting things. Benchpressing is wild."
D.Va laughs at that, camera shaking. "It really is. Wanna join me in a quick Q&A?"
"Sure", Zarya perks up, wiping her brow, sitting a little straighter.
"These questions were for me, but you can answer them too. I picked ones you'd have answers for."
"Aw, thanks."
"Alright, first up: was it worth giving up such a promising career in order to become a soldier, especially considering you were already at the top?" D.Va reads, and turns to Zarya.
"Of course", Zarya says with a shrug. "I love my country. I'll give up a hundred records before I turn my back on it, of course I'll fight for it. It's my home. My family is there, my friends. My entire life. I have to protect them, and a soldier protects better than a star."
Out of frame, one of the men goes "aha!" It's difficult to say who it was.
"As for me", D.Va says, "I wasn't much of a dilemma either. I could still play games, I just had less time to do so. I got to fight for humanity's continued survival, you know? With Overwatch disbanded, no one would keep us safe." D.Va looks to the side, rubs her arm. "It's not really... great, putting my life on the line, I'll tell you that. But I'd just be waiting for danger to come to me if I didn't do anything. We'd all be. If I'm out there, I'm saving someone else the trouble of keeping watch. I sleep easier knowing that there's someone keeping my area specifically safe." She looks back at the lens. "It's worth it. It really is."
Zarya resettles herself and takes the camera from D.Va so she may rest her selfie arm.
"Thanks. Okay, next question is, why do you like pink so much?"
"It's a strong color", Zarya shrugs, "and it looks great. It's good on me."
"I hated it as a kid", D.Va says with a grimance. "Society hates all things feminine and decided pink was feminine. I didn't want to be feminine, so I hated pink. Later I was fucking pissed that I was kept from such a pretty color. I love femininity. I love pink. And fuck anyone who made me feel like I was inferior for it."
One of the men whistles. D.Va blinks and looks beyond the camera.
"What's your favorite color, old man?"
"Red", they both say at the same time, hilariously.
The girls laugh as they move on to the next question. "Is it rough being the one taking all the hits?"
They look at each other for a moment, mumbling to each other in soldier slang and to themselves in their respective languages, trying to decipher what 'all the hits' meant.
"Oh!" D.Va says, eventually. "Being a tank. I'm fine for the most part, my mech keeps me safe. Piloting is super rough on my muscles and bones, but it's better than being on the front line without it. That's why the ejection hurls me so far up and away - I'm not a tank without the mech, I'm little more than a moving target. Repositioning is crucial during ejection."
Zarya makes sure the answer is finished before she begins. "I can take a hit. The canon makes shields that take the hits I can't take. The one thing I hate about going at the front is that I can't watch my back well enough to provide shields to my support."
"Moral of story is that you need at least two tanks in small-scale fights."
"For big fights?"
"Depends on how big, I guess. Army-scale, I'd say a tank for every three or four foot soldiers, for bomb-scale, no tanks at all. Evacuate."
"For tiny fights?"
"Tiny fights are less than four people, otherwise there are teams", D.Va shrugs. "In that case it's best to be a tank. You'd do great, Aleksandra, I'd die. Straight-up death."
Zarya elbows her. "I wouldn't let that happen."
"You can't be everywhere."
"I'm not the only one watching out for you."
It's a fleeting movement, but D.Va glances over the camera for a moment. It happens so fast it needs to be replayed to confirm that it did indeed happen.
"Well, thanks for having my back anyway. You know I have yours."
"Of course."
"Back to the weights?"
"Was that all the questions?"
D.Va glances down in her hand, then back up at Zarya. "Okay, well. It's a bit silly."
"Lay it on me."
"Are you seeing anyone?"
One of the men audibly collapses on the floor in a fit of laughter that ends in wheezing into a heavy coughing episode.
The shot changes without Zarya or D.Va ever answering the question.
It's a closeup, next, of Zarya attempting a snatch, with the two men on either side of her, ready to intervene if they have to.
"Two-hundred", D.Va says from behind the camera. "Go."
Zarya goes. The weights go up, stay, then get back down.
Another, similar cut, but it's obviously quite some time from the last shot. Jack has taken off his jacket.
"Two-thirty", D.Va breathes in wonder. "Go."
Zarya lifts the two-thirty. D.Va whistles.
"Two-thirty-five, come on."
Zarya lifts the two-thirty-five. The man in black waits for her to finish and then nods, slow-claps.
Zarya shakes her arms out. "That's more than my record!"
"It is!" D.Va says. She flips the camera around to get herself in the shot. "Folks you heard it here first, Zarya's managed to go beyond her past record."
Zarya laughs. "Okay now hold on. That's not how that goes, I still have to do the clean and jerk."
"Let's do it, then!"
The video cuts to a single-shot clip that shows, in turn, the weights on each side of the bar Zarya's been lifting, then fixes the frame to her face.
"The joke is that my gun was originally meant to be on a tank", she says.
The shot zooms out, and Zarya breaks her record.