TEXT, JULY 23RD

[sogekihei]

I'm bored.

Does anybody want Chroma?

No, I don't do hand holding. Or hugging. So don't ask.

Comments

[distort]

[ Having truly nothing better to do with her time, Widowmaker heads directly for the park. She's there about three hours early -- one hour is spent in a stroll, familiarizing herself with the terrain. In particular she eyes the high points, places that might serve as a perch, an escape route, a landing for a grappling hook.

By the second hour she's settled down and picked her perch -- a thick and leafy tree toward the outskirts. With just a little shifting to see around leaves, she has near the entire park held within her scope.

It's a lucky thing, too, or she might have missed the quick ascension of a particular man in the other corner of the park. That must be her man. She doesn't miss him, nor does she miss that empty hoodie left to stir in an illusion of life a little further down. Clever.

Feeling magnanimous, Widowmaker fires off exactly one perfect shot. It goes with a thundercrack, startling any lingering denizens of the park into jolts and starts, and it pierces through the leaves and directly through the empty head of the hoodie, forehead level. Hello, over there. ]