cahaaya

[cahaaya]

POV: u are low health trying to not die and echo says beam activated 

[cahaaya]

E.cho as M.oira throwing out a discord orb at dying teammates: :)

[cahaaya]

this is a dumb lucky play but,, 

[cahaaya]

“I haven’t seen a creature like that in years.” (Me, gesturing wildly with the Van Helsing skin: Monster hunter partners AU?)

   There’s magic (no way for science to explain it) thick enough to singe the air and set the spirits that live within the doll on edge. Motionless, a single buttoned eye watches the creature until it’s nothing more than a fleeing back into the witch’s forest. But Echo makes no move to pursue. She stays frozen in place beside her partner as the trees swallow the creature whole. It had to have been desperate to have fled into Her lands. 

 But so are they to take on King’s job. Her payments are the curiosities in this world, sometimes the piece that the living never notice missing until taken. But coin is nice too. It will be good for someone to not have to rough it for once. 

   The ragdoll’s turns to McCree, that stitched grin frozen in cloth giving nothing away by way of emotion. The monster hunter is well traveled, a past shrouded in tales more fit for stories. Her head jerks, twitches suddenly to snap to the side, curious. Her mouth is sealed but the whisper a thousand other voices faintly catch behind hers. 

    “What was that?”

[cahaaya]

Myth and Magic Sentence Starters

“Heard a rumor that something lives in these woods, something… otherworldly.” 

“Are you /trying/ to get yourself killed?!”

“Your spellwork is shoddy at best.” 

“Enunciate! Don’t mumble!” 

“What sort of Craft do you do?” 

“You’re… you’re a witch.” 

“You’re going to get caught walking around like that.” 

“What a beautiful creature…” 

“Please do not drop things into my cauldron.” 

“They say that you’re a Fae.” 

“Your eyes… you’re not human, are you?” 

“What are you doing in a place like this?” 

“This isn’t your natural habitat…” 

“This is… impressive spellwork.” 

“Oh! What beautiful enchantments!” 

“Do you think you can make me one of these?” 

“I’m looking for someone whom people say can brew any cure.” 

“This place is cursed… I can feel it in my bones.” 

“Your magic is very oppressive.”

“Supposedly there’s a dragon who dwells here. Heard anything about that?” 

“Your wards and shields are pathetic.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, they’re a fairytale.” 

“Magic doesn’t exist.” 

“It’s probably some rabid wolves or something, not some ‘mythical creature’.”

“Ghosts aren’t real, and this place isn’t haunted!” 

“Isn’t it about time you crafted your own focus? 

“I’ve never seen magic quite like this.” 

“Please take your wand away from my throat.” 

“Is this a cure, or a poison?” 

“I didn’t know this type of herb grew here.” 

“Do you think someone will be willing to sell me a crystal?” 

“What are you going to do? Read my palm? Tell me my fortune on a poker hand?”

“I haven’t seen a creature like that in years.” 

“Excuse me, but have you seen any __ around these parts?” 

“A __ you say? No, I don’t believe I have.” 

“You should check the vendor down the block if you’re looking for /that/ kind of thing.” 

“You do know that even possessing that is illegal here, yes?” 

✨+ add your own!

[cahaaya]

Her constant scans allow people to be read like an open book -- yet the words are sometimes gibberish (people say and do one thing and mean another) but she understands Spark. The balance of walking on eggshells, the thinnest wire and ice while always finding yourself off kilter no matter how delicately you trod. The effort of proving to the world that they are not boogiemen, murderers, or criminals gets taxing when the scales are so harshly rigged. So she leans forward, interest mapped open and easy on her features. “If you and I understand each other, it won’t be so dull.” The years have been long to them (a blink to her) and they have all changed so much and she wants to know them again not as they were but as they are. Where to start? 

From the beginning. “Who have you become?” 

@cahaaya​ said:

🎁

“I’m honestly so bored of being misunderstood.”

spotify wrapped starters // “Clear“

[cahaaya]

Mina: By duplicating others Echo will learn the complexities of human emotion Echo learning 500 ways to be sad and being slammed with every single doubt behind all the facades: 

[cahaaya]

Consider Echo’s first present was an an ugly holiday sweater and even though she duplicates people perfectly her duplications she makes the conscious decision to make sure that all of her duplications have on that same ugly sweater 

[cahaaya]

Her features brighten, breaking into delighted smile at her own given nickname spoken in a tongue that has always felt like home. The world with all its vastness is small enough to allow for these chance meetings and she is thankful. He is easy to spot, (or rather looked for) when Overwatch’s missions take them from the bustles of the life. Echo dips her head respectfully, wings curving as she bows in curtsy. It’s all a formality at this point, too stiff among her abang that she can hardly bite back a laugh as she goes through the motion.

“Zenyatta.” And the word echoed back new already feels like a familiar comfort so much so that she says it again fondly. “ Zenyatta, abang saya, and little wanderer, have you seen all of the world?” He is like the wind, fleeting and passing, so she asks her curiosities before his meaning carries him away. 

@cahaaya​ noted: 

” stranger, i am warning you: if you keep showing up like this, i’m going to have to find a new nickname for you. “

a light melody of high notes; a monotonic reflection of laughter that gave away his amusement  at that small quip. 

「 ༀ - is that so? i thought my nickname suited quite well, kakak saya. 」

the metallic hand covering his mouth gently fell back onto his lap, before finally giving a bow of greeting to the woman that approached him.

「 ༀ - although, if you do require  a more unique call for me, most start with zenyatta. 」

[cahaaya]

She doesn’t want to look at the destruction left in their wake of recent battles. From the time she was made aware of the feeling when she first duplicated Mercy that lifetime ago when Overwatch was at its peak and first felt a rush of emotions she didn’t understand -- because they had won and victory shouldn’t feel so hollow but it did. As the smoke clears it still does. It’s a feeling she understands doesn’t have one name but many. It suffocates, slowly smothers until you drown. Today, they won. Tomorrow, they would pay their price again and it would need to be worth it. 

Eventually she drifts beside Angela. Palm lay flat against dented metal, thumbs tracing along the curves of indents. She could tell Angela what the Mercy from the past would have told Angela now before Echo was put in years stasis. Echo back the scathing (un)truths.This is a mistake. These hands made to heal leave more scars in their wake. But she has the choice and will not leave her friend alone with this moment. As herself, with her own eyes she looks, remembers along side the Doctor because it is their role to remember as heroes and their crimes as criminals. “We have made our��many mistakes.” She admits softly. “So many more will be made as life keeps moving but we can learn from the one’s we’ve already made, and the new ones.” 

   “We can be better this time.” She says, almost naïve in her sureness. “I want... I want to keep learning to be better with you.” 

🎁  — a starter from a random song on my spotify wrapped    hide and seek by imogen heap // @cahaaya​

“Where pleasure moments hung. Before the takeover…”

hands moved over buckshot indents in the metal where they had fought before the recall. Gaze shifted to Echo but turned away.

                         “The sweeping insensitivity…Of this still life.”

[cahaaya]

“ it comforts me to see how far you’ve come, my friend. and i am confident that you shall make your way, eventually. “

She chuffs a small laugh and turns to look at the monk. Here is another piece of what Mina left behind. She’s uncertain if Mina had a hand in creating him as she did her but she is certain that he carries on her legacy of omnics making the world a better place and can’t help but wonder if the inventors vision also extended to omnics lending a hand to each other. It must be. 

 They are kin, both outgrowing what they were meant to do and each finding their way into being. The world has turned him wise and kind and not for the first time in her life she not sure if the world is turning her into who she was meant to be a mockery of what Mina held dear. 

 Echo copies him unconsciously, mimics the posture of serenity that she always finds Zenyatta in and perches lightly in her own wings hands folded in her lap. “Thank you, abang saya.” It’s snowing, and she can feel the cold but she is unbothered by its nips and reaches out to collecting flakes in an opened palm. “I know my place is here where I am needed. Here I am given purpose-- meaning. But the road after it’s...” She pauses, watching flakes melt on her palms. “Uncertain.” 

 Echo clears her thoughts with a shake of a head-- she must have picked that up from somewhere. “Wherever your wandering soul takes take you next please know that I’m glad opportunity allowed our roads to cross.” 

[cahaaya]

photo by neekaisweird

[cahaaya]

   @ciiberz cont [x]

    The omnic’s face has always been an open book of emotions and there is a flash puzzlement before settling on bemusement. There is little information that Overwatch has on Sombra but in the few scraps given she knows that in front of her is a threat and liar and so Echo is cautious. She carefully considers the options of whether to push or pull in their engagement and eventually decides on an in-between. There’s a ripple in her chassis that climbs up her arm as fingers curl into a fist, digits glowing blue and hot. A tri-shot readied but settled on the ground like a gunslinger itching for the draw of their weapon.

 Mina and Overwatch would call force a last resort while another that dwelled in its shadow called it preparedness. She thinks it a hard necessity.  Eyes study the woman in front of her, scans already committing Sombra’s face to be captured in a lifetime of data. If she wanted, Echo could copy Sombra as is right now in a blink. But she refrains, showing only the same amount of restraint given.

 Hovering a distance, she is true to programming and regards Sombra in a tone that’s almost too formerly polite. “We’ve the time. Perhaps we can surprise each other yet.” Hardly a pause before the question follows swiftly after. “What do you want?”   

[cahaaya]

Mina having to fit Echo with multiple fail safes because she knows this is the only way people will feel safe around Echo as she continues to grow out of her programming: 🥺 😢

[cahaaya]

The adaptive personality echo has in her memory for the commanders still who they were before their experiences brought them to who they are presently. She has a perfect snapshot of their thoughts, and memories, and doubts as they were right at the brink before overwatch tore itself apart from the infighting.

The commanders are in her memory and she can still duplicate then but the scans are dated.

[cahaaya]

Mina telling E.cho to be careful when she gets her shots at doing a field mission even though she can take care of herself knowing it must be a bad one if they need her but sweating because she’s looking at the people E.cho could duplicate and it’s: 

-Zips into death

-Charges into death

-Thanks for taking the health pack guess I’ll die 

-Toblerone 

[cahaaya]

cybushin​:

      WAIT A SECOND THAT’S NOT HOW THIS IS SUPPOSED TO W-    Another pocky, and another pocky and another pocky and-      Oh god it’s not stopping. There’s a strangled sound, a muffled laugh as hands wave in defeat,    Where does she keep getting all these pocky?!

                     “ E- ECHO   —-   PLEASE-   ONEGAISHI– I concede! ”

   She seems to stop in her pocky based bombardment only temporarily to laughs easily along with him. “Happy pocky day, Genji. It’s my understanding that this is a game played with those you care about and I know you’ll be getting plenty of people at the end of your stick.” With one hand held behind her back pocky is held suspiciously like the ninja’s kunai perfectly placed between each knuckle with her free hand she innocently points down “Ah, your laces are untied.” Poised and ready to strike, true to her own pocky day she’s keen on sharing at least one stick more.