Amélie didn't let herself think about what had once been often. To do so would only reduce her efficiency and lead to idle thoughts of things that were better left in the past. Yet, even one as devoid of emotion as herself could not completely suppress memories that hadn't been taken from her. Was it a mistake by Talon to leave them or a calculated cruelty was anyone's guess, but the organization had taken a couple years before they granted her personal leave.
Always taken during the last week of December, Amélie returned to France, using a little safehouse in the heart of Paris. Mostly she kept to herself, enjoying the peace of not having her handlers in constant contact, of having some sense of actual privacy, but on one particular day, a red rose was plucked from the vase on the table and she headed to a cemetery.
She didn't notice the presence at first, lost in the moment before her late husband's marker as she was. But when she cleared the snow away from the stone, ungloved fingers tracing the inscription, the hairs on the back of her neck rose in that unmistakable feeling of being watched. Knowing better than to look around for the source, she continued on with her annual ritual and laid the rose down. It could be her imagination or just paranoia that one of those whom had once been Overwatch would choose this moment to come pay their own respects, so Amélie made the choice to let it go. A lone woman in a cemetery on Christmas likely garnered attention from anyone about.
She felt it again, though, when she continued on to her next stop. The Palais Garnier was closed, no shows that night, but that didn't stop her. Amélie had danced many a year there and knew which door would be unlocked for even when it was closed there was always someone in the ballet company there working on the set. Or the lighting as it was that night. And when she was wandering the mezzanine, stopping to lean her forearms against the rail and look down, she felt the presence of someone close by. Of course no one was seen, but it was an all too familiar feeling.
No outward reaction was given. She refused to give her 'stalker' the satisfaction of being unnerved. As it was neigh impossible to unnerve her, she decided to leave the impression that she was unaware. It was better that way, since sometimes ignoring Sombra made her go away, much like it would one still in grade school. So after an hour or so, Amélie moved on to pass by a hotel not far from the Palais Garnier. It was full of people, many of the women bearing the kind of build she possessed, but she did not go inside. She lingered for a few minutes underneath a tree, even leaned back against the trunk for a moment, before walking away with purpose to return to the safehouse.
When she reached the door, upon retrieving the keys, she found a familiar device in her pocket. When did Sombra put that in there? With a small sigh, Amélie dropped the transponder on the floor outside the door before letting herself in.
"You can knock like a civilized person," she said to the seemingly empty air before shutting the door behind her. And locking it.
[ooc: Took some creative license here. Poke me if you want something changed^^.]
Once a Year [Sombra]
Always taken during the last week of December, Amélie returned to France, using a little safehouse in the heart of Paris. Mostly she kept to herself, enjoying the peace of not having her handlers in constant contact, of having some sense of actual privacy, but on one particular day, a red rose was plucked from the vase on the table and she headed to a cemetery.
She didn't notice the presence at first, lost in the moment before her late husband's marker as she was. But when she cleared the snow away from the stone, ungloved fingers tracing the inscription, the hairs on the back of her neck rose in that unmistakable feeling of being watched. Knowing better than to look around for the source, she continued on with her annual ritual and laid the rose down. It could be her imagination or just paranoia that one of those whom had once been Overwatch would choose this moment to come pay their own respects, so Amélie made the choice to let it go. A lone woman in a cemetery on Christmas likely garnered attention from anyone about.
She felt it again, though, when she continued on to her next stop. The Palais Garnier was closed, no shows that night, but that didn't stop her. Amélie had danced many a year there and knew which door would be unlocked for even when it was closed there was always someone in the ballet company there working on the set. Or the lighting as it was that night. And when she was wandering the mezzanine, stopping to lean her forearms against the rail and look down, she felt the presence of someone close by. Of course no one was seen, but it was an all too familiar feeling.
No outward reaction was given. She refused to give her 'stalker' the satisfaction of being unnerved. As it was neigh impossible to unnerve her, she decided to leave the impression that she was unaware. It was better that way, since sometimes ignoring Sombra made her go away, much like it would one still in grade school. So after an hour or so, Amélie moved on to pass by a hotel not far from the Palais Garnier. It was full of people, many of the women bearing the kind of build she possessed, but she did not go inside. She lingered for a few minutes underneath a tree, even leaned back against the trunk for a moment, before walking away with purpose to return to the safehouse.
When she reached the door, upon retrieving the keys, she found a familiar device in her pocket. When did Sombra put that in there? With a small sigh, Amélie dropped the transponder on the floor outside the door before letting herself in.
"You can knock like a civilized person," she said to the seemingly empty air before shutting the door behind her. And locking it.
[ooc: Took some creative license here. Poke me if you want something changed^^.]