[Sitting alone just above the tide's reach is a young girl. She can't be older than 8, maybe 10, despite the dark rings under her bloodshot eyes - her features are too small and delicate for a teenager. Her hair is frazzled, as if she's been pulling at it or knotting her fingers in it. The little girl stares out over the ocean and thinks of a thousand things. How beautiful it would be, if they were here to see it. How their honeymoon pictures on the living room wall featured beaches like these. How baffling it is that, in a world where idyllic scenes like this could exist, war and death could be there, too.
The girl scrunches her knees up to her chest and rests her forhead on her folded arms. This is a grieving Angela Ziegler, and she hasn't got the heart to question where she is or why.]
Crying won't help. [She whispers to herself, shoulders shaking with the effort of staying quiet. It may sound harsh, but it's her way of hanging on to what's left.] Not at all.
ii. Light The Way
This way!
[The voice rings clear over the rumbling of shifting stone, cast down the staircase as a lifeline to stragglers. And if you hesitate in following the voice - it leads to a yellow glowing outline of a woman up ahead - you will find yourself bathed in golden light as a firm hand grasps your shoulder and guides you along.
If the bright yellow wings and staff don't make you think of an angel, the metal halo probably does. You won't have time to admire your new guardian, however. She's urging you along and fanning her wings out as far as they'll go to light the way.]
Mercy | Overwatch | Mind the CW
[Sitting alone just above the tide's reach is a young girl. She can't be older than 8, maybe 10, despite the dark rings under her bloodshot eyes - her features are too small and delicate for a teenager. Her hair is frazzled, as if she's been pulling at it or knotting her fingers in it. The little girl stares out over the ocean and thinks of a thousand things. How beautiful it would be, if they were here to see it. How their honeymoon pictures on the living room wall featured beaches like these. How baffling it is that, in a world where idyllic scenes like this could exist, war and death could be there, too.
The girl scrunches her knees up to her chest and rests her forhead on her folded arms. This is a grieving Angela Ziegler, and she hasn't got the heart to question where she is or why.]
Crying won't help. [She whispers to herself, shoulders shaking with the effort of staying quiet. It may sound harsh, but it's her way of hanging on to what's left.] Not at all.
ii. Light The Way
This way!
[The voice rings clear over the rumbling of shifting stone, cast down the staircase as a lifeline to stragglers. And if you hesitate in following the voice - it leads to a yellow glowing outline of a woman up ahead - you will find yourself bathed in golden light as a firm hand grasps your shoulder and guides you along.
If the bright yellow wings and staff don't make you think of an angel, the metal halo probably does. You won't have time to admire your new guardian, however. She's urging you along and fanning her wings out as far as they'll go to light the way.]
There is no time to lose, we must move quickly.
iii. Wildcard
[Surprise me!]