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sorry for low activity! Just been going through some irl stuff and didn't want to half-ass replies since i havent had energy to start seeking threads here

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Habiba Muhammadi, tr. by Ibrahim Muhawi, from The Poetry of Arab Women: A Contemporary Anthology; “Untitled Poem”

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Safia Elhillo, from Girls That Never Die: Poems; “Geneva”

[Text ID: “To ask for help would be to speak & of course we never spoke.”]

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tlacehualli​:

God, this is so embarrassing that Sombra is actually blushing. On dark skin, it just makes her redder - not quite the tomato of more fair skinned folks, but still noticeable. But she felt childish and stupid and immature and overemotional (and she gets so overemotional sometimes) but she’s 30 and she’s grown as hell so she just remains still and bears it like a champ. Whatever. They had to work together so her being not an asshole was kind of necessary.

The hacker pinches the bridge of her nose and shakes her head as if to ward off whatever was going on psychologically, listening to Satya’s acceptance. The younger woman is kind for it, and thorough in her acceptance - she even acknowledges Sombra’s own intelligence and her ears turn red at that. She was gonna beat herself up about this for like six months.

“Communication is a bitch,” she finally spoke up after a moment of intense processing. “It’s something I kind of figured you might have an issue with but I got a whole slew of my own issues, bonita, so - ” She grimaced. Yeah, this honesty thing was hell. “It’s really not your fault. Call it a…severe breakdown in communication.”

A little sigh of relief and the red begins to fade from her face and this time she offers a little smile. “Yeah, Talon’s got a way of hiring people that never really wanted to be here in the first place. So I get you being kind of on edge about that. Plus I can be really irritating, so, all good.” The smile grows, a little mischevious this time as she tried to lighten up the unbearable tension with humor. Next time you can just like, slap me.“

                     “-- I... function on a separate level to most others. Emotionally... Intellectually.... Et cetera...“ SATYA answers softly-- though, there’s a degree of delight in the notion that Sombra... Well, appeared to notice that she had difficulty in that area. It wasn’t often that others attempted to get onto her level to understand her, and while it had felt a little personal last time, simply the fact that Sombra was acknowledging that there was a definitive reason for this was... actually quite comforting.

“... So... I appreciate that you’ve at least taken notice.“

                         Although hesitant, Sombra’s smile prompts SATYA to mirror with one of her own, glacial features creased by the delicate curl of a smile. “... I suppose you are the more ideal coworker to interact with here-- everyone else is... a tad intimidating.“ She frowns, however, when Sombra insists that she should simply slap her the “next time” she decides to become a nuisance.

“... M-me? Slap you? No, no... I am... not a violent person...“

                        “... I could never lift a hand to harm another...“ Well, it wasn’t exactly a lie...

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ovcrwctch​:

Winston was surprised to say the very least when contacted by someone who formerly had ties to Vishkar Corporation. He had heard of the company and their interesting hard light technology, though Athena had brought to his attention a few news stories about their more dubious practices. To have a former architect from them, with confirmed access to their technology, though was an exciting prospect. He was excited for the prospects of learning more about it and potentially being able to incorporate it into some of his technology or even just into the strategies of the team. The possibilities seemed endless, and he ignored Athena’s attempts to temper his expectations.

He had some brief correspondences with Satya, confirming the date of her arrival and then some updates of her travels. He wished her safe travels.

When Athena alerted him to a car approaching the compound, Winston watched on the cameras and smiled as she confirmed that the architect had arrived - Satya’s text arriving after he had already left his quarters. Today the weather was warm and dry, making it perfect for giving her a little tour of the facilities.

A warm smile is on his features as the doors open, and he finally sees her in person. Her stares and shock had him become concerned for a moment, even looking behind him briefly, before he realised what it might be. Ah, yes, his appearance. He’d grown used to being around people used to him enough that he almost forgot his abnormality to most. Winston had assumed she knew who he was but that was a mistake on his part.

“I am, yes. A pleasure to meet you, Ms Vaswani! Welcome to Watchpoint Gibraltar. We’re glad to have you. Please, come in.” He stepped aside and gestured with an arm for her to enter the compound, a slight wave and polite smile given to the driver who had just finished removing the new recruit’s luggage from the car.

“Oh, where are my manners. may I help you with your luggage? It’s quite a long walk to the main base.” He adjusts his glasses and awaits her response. Not everyone had yet answered the recall, and whilst he had hope that more would come, it was nice to see that the stragglers were encouraging others to return. Like Cole encouraging Echo.

                     Not her proudest moment of diplomacy-- but thankfully Winston doesn’t appear too terribly burdened by this offset. A delicate sigh escapes the woman as she takes a moment to re-center herself before citrine eyes reopen.

“-- Please, call me SATYA.“ She insists, nodding along when Winston inquires about her luggage. Truth be told, she’d have simply requested her driver to assist with it-- but... Winston offering was out of politeness, and it would make things far more streamlined to simply allow him to help. “No need for formalities if we are to be working in tandem, surely... After all, I have been looking forward to this. OVERWATCH was certainly an.... inspiration... as a little girl.” She murmurs softly as they collect her belongings between the two of them.  She’s packed moderately.... densely, between bringing plenty of suitable clothes for virtually any potential social interaction, her work terminal, her hair care routine, and so forth. Seemingly vain to anyone else-- but SATYA prides herself in the art of preparation.

                              However, despite Winston’s assistance, she makes a point of toting a couple of her suitcases along of her own volition, her purse neatly hooked over her shoulder while hefting her luggage in tow. “It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance in person, Winston. My apologies for the volume of luggage-- I like to ensure that I am prepared, so to speak. I certainly appreciate the assistance. You are... quite the gentleman...“

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Forugh Farrokhzad, tr. by Sholeh Wolpé, from Sin: Selected Poems of Forugh Farrokhzad; "Captive"

[Text ID: "I do not have enough breath for flight."]

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Sean Glatch, Apology Poem

[Text ID: “I don’t know how to keep the light / from escaping,”]

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Arielle Twist, from Disintegrate/Dissociate; “Mother/Creator”

[Text: “Mother, / I don’t know if I can do this / can I process / can I forget / can I be whole / can I be holy / I know / I can’t breathe / with these broken ribs”]

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walk up to the club like what up im in love with symmetra i cant shade faces to save my life lol but… anyway….

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... From light into being...

sym IS best main

you can't change my mind

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@dpsdiff​ // plotted starter [zenyatta]

                      “... I am... surprised... by how seamlessly humans and Omnics seem to coexist here in Survasa.“ SATYA says once their morning meditations have concluded and the other pilgrims have begun to retire to other tasks. She regards the Omnic with bright, curious half-lidded eyes, the citrine of her irises gleaming gold in the soft candlelight that illuminates the temple. Although initially reluctant to actively participate in the routines and rhetoric of temple-life without actively being a pilgrim-- even SATYA was startled by how quickly she’s adapted with Zenyatta’s direct guidance. Strange-- how much of a chore this had seemed upon her arrival, yet now had begun to truly blossom into a deeper understanding of his culture.

“... What... of you, Zenyatta...? What did you... first think of humans...?“

                       “... What was it like? To... become sentient? Do you recall?“

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@ovcrwctch​ // plotted starter [winston]

                     Although extremely disinterested in the notion of shacking up with a disgraced collection of so-called vigilantes, SANJAY had assured her that she alone was the natural fit for this sort of infiltration. After all, if she collected enough evidence of their organized operations, it’d certainly give VISHKAR the upper hand in determining what was to be done with such ruffians. With global attacks from Talon running significantly more rampant, it felt to SATYA to be in her best interest to do what could be done to prevent yet another faction from unleashing unabashed chaos across an already sickened world. 

After sending a curt message informing this... “Winston” fellow that she had arrived, the private chauffeur silently lets her out into the coastal sunshine of former OVERWATCH Watchpoint: Gibraltar-- standing remarkably pristine despite its supposed decommissioning, leaving her to wonder just how long this facility has been in operation illegally.

                           She’s patient as she waits for someone to come and allow her into the compound, occasionally pausing to check her makeup and hair with a handheld mirror from her purse. When the doors finally open, she’s gotten somewhat distracted-- because SATYA most certainly does not anticipate a fully grown male gorilla to be standing behind the doors once they’d slid open, leaving her stunned as Winston goes on to begin speaking to her. Using words.

This has to be some kind of fucking joke.

                          Not once did SANJAY bring this important little fact to her attention!

“-- I-- I’m sorry--”  She stammers before quickly regaining some semblance of composure as she anxiously brushes some of her hair behind her ear.

                            ”-- Are.... Are you my correspondent? You are Winston?“

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@femtaile​ // plotted starter

                    Despite being collectively considered a socialite-- primarily due to her semi-charismatic professionalism and ability to entertain and delight clients while holding them at proverbial arm’s length-- SATYA abhors attending social events in SANJAY’S stead. She operates more as a manager when asked to do so; he’s already told her what to say, when to say it-- how to say it-- all in advance. She merely needed to follow the motions, rub shoulders with a select few persons of interest, should they turn up-- and return to the facility. 

She’s a beautiful parrot, isn’t she? Or perhaps she’s more akin to a puppet.

                    Neatly packed into the back of a TALON chauffeur with her so-called bodyguard, she clutches a small handheld mirror in one hand while meticulously touching up her makeup, adjusting her hair and the shoulders of her sari’s blouse every so often. The majority of the ride is spent in silence, sans the occasional, soft, sounds of frustration that escape the VISHKAR architect as she attempts to perfect her appearance. It isn’t until the driver calls back to her, however, informing her that they’d be arriving shortly, that she is pulled from her fixations to glance over towards the Widowmaker cautiously. Overall, despite her own glacial demeanor, Widow didn’t seem like the bodyguard type; despite her oddities and visible modifications, and the way she carried herself, she seemed almost as demure as SATYA herself-- leading to some dubiousness in regards to whether or not she was the most ideal security detail.

... Not that she should need a security detail, anyhow...

                    “-- Excuse me; Miss Lacroix, was it...?“ SATYA delicately lifts her voice as she shifts in her seat to turn a little more towards her. “... Woman to woman, does... my makeup look acceptable? I don’t have any lipstick on my teeth, do I...?” Blood-crimson lips part as neat, porcelain teeth are momentarily bared towards her.

And then.... a thought occurs to her.

                          “... Would it be too terribly much if I requested a small favor of you? It... would pertain in regards to ensuring a manageable level of my own personal comfort...“ She reflexively pops her lips to ensure her lipstick is coating her lips evenly, pursing them after.

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Forugh Farrokhzad, tr. by Sholeh Wolpé, from Sin: Selected Poems of Forugh Farrokhzad; "Lost"

[Text ID: "I keep asking the wretched mirror: / Tell me, who am I in your eyes? / But I can vividly see that I am not / even a shade of the woman I used to be."]

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Forugh Farrokhzad, tr. by Sholeh Wolpé, from Sin: Selected Poems of Forugh Farrokhzad; “The Sun Rises"

[Text ID: "seat me higher than all the stars,"]

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tlacehualli​:

@laserpimp liked x for a compliment!

For Satya

“I know I’ve been a real dick to you, but if I’m being real with you, it’s because I think you’re an incredibly intelligent person and I’m jealous of all the nurturing you got to have. So, I’m sorry.”

                     ... On one hand, she’s... still a little hurt by her very unkind welcome; but just the same, SATYA is well aware of her own shortcomings. Just because things can hurt her unseen feelings doesn’t necessarily mean anything; she can be... sensitive.

Even if no one seemed to take notice as a result of her glacial exterior.

                     ... Actually-- the fact Sombra would even want to apologize after the verbal lashing she gave her is... confusing. Had someone instructed her to do so? It’s strange, how abashedly genuine the gesture is... It isn’t insignificant; that was for certain.

                    “... An unnecessary apology-- but I accept nonetheless.“ SATYA murmurs with a delicate bow of her slender head to accept her apology more gracefully. “I am... often plagued by a difficulty in... communication.” That was a nice way to phrase it. She’s still choosing her words with the utmost care, however-- heaven knows she’s trying to avoid direct inflammation this time. “...  I merely did not understand why you would take such great offense; you’re clearly very capable despite the circumstances... You seemed so proud of it, just to tear me down for a mere preference. I acknowledge that I have lived an exceptionally privileged life-- I merely felt as though it was... unfair... to judge my intelligence or experience based on better circumstance. It... did not feel pleasant.“

“-- We’re both highly intelligent women-- I understand that our circumstances were highly skewed, and for that, I apologize if I came off as insensitive-- but should we really be tearing one another down for that? Differences... should be celebrated, shouldn’t they?“

                        “-- Especially considering that we’ve both ended up here, together, regardless of what either of us had or did not have. I think that’s indicative enough of intellectual excellence.“

“-- Furthermore, I would also like to formally apologize if my reluctance to work alongside you seemed personal; I...  am not pleased to be contracted to this facility. You had no direct influence on that statement...“

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tag dump :)