08-15-2018, 08:36 PM
[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 55%; line-height:115%; text-align: justify;font-family: calibri;"]"Hello? Have you lost something? This is the Typhoon, my name's Temulin, if you've lost something I can help you look for it." She had not heard anyone approach in her suffering, entire body stiffening and claws unsheathing instantly only to bite into her skin and to disappear once more with a low growl. A bitterness seeped into her, a welcome counterpart to the struggles that had surrounded her like they always did when she fell away and gave into her own loneliness. In silence, she suffered, and where the crowds would not reach her Amelie fell apart. Yet in the face of others, in the face of humanity... she displayed nothing, and her shattered reality fell back into place like porcelain, held together weakly by glue and ready to break into even more pieces when the time came for it. In these moments it never mattered who Amelie was. She was safely tucked away in the shadows that marred Widowmaker's soul.
But even Widowmaker was falling apart, a mere shadow of who she had been. No, the woman who stood before them did not know who she was anymore - she was a freak, a hybrid of that which she used to be and that which she had been forced to become. The simple inquiry of a name that one would so easily respond to brought her nothing but pain, nerves screaming at her to choose a side. Amelie or Widowmaker? Both names are foreign on her tongue, and she could not bring herself to say either as she slowly raised her head up towards Temulin, golden eyes giving away nothing the moment they locked onto her own.
"Those words were not for you to hear," monotonous, devoid of anything but contempt, her response was anything but friendly or welcoming, though it did not instill hostility either. It was a guarded neutrality, the voice of someone who knew they had been caught in a moment of weakness and despised it. Emotions made you vulnerable, and having anyone see inside of her was unnerving. It was unnerving because she was convinced that they'd know more about her than she could ever find out, and that the inner workings of her mind would be displayed on a pedestal for all to see. She didn't need constant reminders of how broken she was. But least of all did she need others discovering her identity without her knowledge, and for the memories they gave to her to never click, to fade away like they always did. Until she was fixed, she couldn't show them who she was.
A shuddering breath escaped her throat as Amelie tried valiantly to reel all the thoughts back into place, to give some semblance of control as Aita approached, the child doing nothing more than filling her with more bitter memories. She had a childhood, once. Everyone did. But she did not remember it beyond soft whispers in her head that could have very well been lies as well. Her gaze turned cold, and before she could lash out at an individual who had nothing to do with her pain, her gaze turned to Caesar.
The next to appear wasn't threatening in the common sense, but despite that she knew that look, and the gaze that was trapped within hers showed little but an afterthought of murder. Widowmaker was no stranger to such a gaze, and those far colder. She had been on both sides of the party once - a murderer and the victim all in one. Widowmaker had murdered Amelie, once. Talon had helped her bury the woman long ago. But the subtle intelligence and the analytical mind were still all hers, whoever it belonged to in the end (for it surely wasn't under her control.)
Her gaze hardened once more, a subtle frown making it's way onto her maw as she recalled that she still did not answer this woman's question. It was not her intent to be rude, and the voice still whispered tauntingly in the back of her head to choose. If only it was that simple, if only she knew who she was anymore. Amelie Lacroix... or Widowmaker? Dancer, or assassin? Victim... or murderer.
Hunter or prey?
"Amelie," she murmured quietly the moment she believed that she had waited long enough to start irritating those questioning her. It didn't feel right, using that name, but she had nothing else to go by. As disconnected as Amelie felt, Widowmaker felt even more so at this given time. "I did not know that there were others out here. Can you tell me where I am?" her voice regained some of it's strength (though most would call it ice instead) as she asked the question. Perhaps she didn't know who she was, but even such a simple knowledge of where she found herself to be could change everything.
But even Widowmaker was falling apart, a mere shadow of who she had been. No, the woman who stood before them did not know who she was anymore - she was a freak, a hybrid of that which she used to be and that which she had been forced to become. The simple inquiry of a name that one would so easily respond to brought her nothing but pain, nerves screaming at her to choose a side. Amelie or Widowmaker? Both names are foreign on her tongue, and she could not bring herself to say either as she slowly raised her head up towards Temulin, golden eyes giving away nothing the moment they locked onto her own.
"Those words were not for you to hear," monotonous, devoid of anything but contempt, her response was anything but friendly or welcoming, though it did not instill hostility either. It was a guarded neutrality, the voice of someone who knew they had been caught in a moment of weakness and despised it. Emotions made you vulnerable, and having anyone see inside of her was unnerving. It was unnerving because she was convinced that they'd know more about her than she could ever find out, and that the inner workings of her mind would be displayed on a pedestal for all to see. She didn't need constant reminders of how broken she was. But least of all did she need others discovering her identity without her knowledge, and for the memories they gave to her to never click, to fade away like they always did. Until she was fixed, she couldn't show them who she was.
A shuddering breath escaped her throat as Amelie tried valiantly to reel all the thoughts back into place, to give some semblance of control as Aita approached, the child doing nothing more than filling her with more bitter memories. She had a childhood, once. Everyone did. But she did not remember it beyond soft whispers in her head that could have very well been lies as well. Her gaze turned cold, and before she could lash out at an individual who had nothing to do with her pain, her gaze turned to Caesar.
The next to appear wasn't threatening in the common sense, but despite that she knew that look, and the gaze that was trapped within hers showed little but an afterthought of murder. Widowmaker was no stranger to such a gaze, and those far colder. She had been on both sides of the party once - a murderer and the victim all in one. Widowmaker had murdered Amelie, once. Talon had helped her bury the woman long ago. But the subtle intelligence and the analytical mind were still all hers, whoever it belonged to in the end (for it surely wasn't under her control.)
Her gaze hardened once more, a subtle frown making it's way onto her maw as she recalled that she still did not answer this woman's question. It was not her intent to be rude, and the voice still whispered tauntingly in the back of her head to choose. If only it was that simple, if only she knew who she was anymore. Amelie Lacroix... or Widowmaker? Dancer, or assassin? Victim... or murderer.
Hunter or prey?
"Amelie," she murmured quietly the moment she believed that she had waited long enough to start irritating those questioning her. It didn't feel right, using that name, but she had nothing else to go by. As disconnected as Amelie felt, Widowmaker felt even more so at this given time. "I did not know that there were others out here. Can you tell me where I am?" her voice regained some of it's strength (though most would call it ice instead) as she asked the question. Perhaps she didn't know who she was, but even such a simple knowledge of where she found herself to be could change everything.
♔ — I want brimstone in my garden