among { o v e r w a t c h } strangers

 

A nod, heart's smile, Reinhardt shifted anxiously. He tried to make eye contact with each of them, watching reactions as he crossed the word winter on his board -- Amelia didn't look at him, arms crossed; Hanzo side eyeing the other eleven; Satya watched Wilheim in a way more calculating than his own. He prepared for this, twelve killers, thieves, criminals - the words felt harsh on his mind, they were just kids. 

They were smarter than him, he had to remember. And as a man built from snow, he couldn't paint them as criminals or they would kill him first, no worries. He's been through this before, maybe not as awkwardly but it's at least a comforting thought, knowing this almost succeeded last time. Besides, he safety proofed the entire thing himself- no worries of Amelia and Ana killing each other on the spot; he was here to learn more so than anything else. So with a careful eye he watched compassionately, the skin around his eyes crinkled as he smiled something paternal.

Eleven kids, he took notes to himself as they passed through: 

- Tracer. Lena Oxton, one part charisma, two parts cheeky; she fidgeted as he talked, but she was the first volunteer at least. Stealing, great. A sly smile, one that's got her this far at least, but Reinhardt swallows his doubt as she smirks at him - Lena's bound to be a leader, has the guts for it apparently. 

- Symettra, Satya. She forced eye contact, a firm back, structured and organized, he tried to recall her records- only remembering she shot a murderer. One word printed in craftsman's font, Satya sat still. No twitches, steady breathing, serious; she wore her chin high as Reinhardt nodded, order. Ordinance had never been so threatening before. 

- Mei. Half her name scratched out on her records, and for the most part it was blank, as for herself. Wilheim tried to tick things off her knew about her but they were far and few between; she kept to herself, a botanist and she didn't care for much else. He chuckled more so to himself as she wrote spring, unsure whether it was a threat or not but he smiled nonetheless. Mei closed herself off before he picked up on much - oh well. 

- Amelia. It came as poison, she crossed her arms and avoided any interaction between herself and him- he wasn't surprised. He memorized everything about her, through torture and tragedy, and part of Reinhardt knew it was a fool's move to trust her, the word killing placed upon paper under a smirk. 

She made him uneasy; weary. A note to himself.

- Hanzo Shimada, older brother. In a way, less scarier than the girl before him, sitting silently in judgement just as Satya had, but he threatened less in the same posture. Hanzo rolls his eyes before flashing the word honor, what he had expected of him. Reinhardt tried to shrug off his laughter with Amelia the best he could -- there was no point in being scared of his own unit. Tension held itself in Wilheim's throat: Satya, Amelia, Hanzo, he coughed into his hand before nodding. He wanted to believe these kids were saints, but there's still caution to be had, he noted. 

- Jessie McCree, a headache. A good break from the hard tension before him, something charismatic and stupid in him, he wrote busting on his card and Reinhardt stared at him through furred brows. 

"Reinhardt whaaat-"

"sit down."

- Genji Shimada, younger brother. He smiles for a second at McCree and it reassures him for a second; at least somebody doesn't want to commit murder on the spot. Wilheim strummed his fingers as he watched the boy write the word sex in all seriousness, but it came in comfort. Reinhardt shouldn't of been surprised, merits of public nudity were written on the boy's records, but he appreciated the break of humor from somebody other than gun toting McCree.

- Zoe Yates, a quiet boy. Reinhardt took the moment to recollect, the last few the easier going kids, and he exhaled a relief. This one was built from leadership, he realized, organizer of a sort of hippie terrorist group; he didn't quite understand it but in this sense he realized Tracer and him were the only two with experience. Zoe draws a crooked smile, sloppy and one eye smudged; 

"I have found that the loudest men have the most to compensate for." Reinhardt takes the moment to sip coffee, the scent of mint on him. "But, they're still fun. Sometimes."

"True."

- Mercy chimes in. Milford, her eyes going between Zoe to Wilheim to her card; a familiar face. Herself and Tracer the first two recruits, it's past a point of recognizing for them. Reinhardt is well accustomed to their behavior, Mercy having a place of trust in the team -- she'd do well as a leader. Between McCree and herself she laughs, flashing her card while smiling. 

"I really love knitting." 

- Davina. Child genius, the youngest of the group, he's been waiting to hear from her at some point. Pip squeak voice and tiny hands, a few times he's caught her squinting at him or looking ready to interrupt at a few cards; a challenge. She writes, Reinhardt still smiling from Milford's response. But he takes note, in the same way she's been squinting at him, Davina expects it, 

"acknowledged."

- Ana Amari. The last recruit, she holds herself tight in a sense that reminds Wilheim of Satya from twenty minutes ago. And perhaps it's the circumstances, he reminds himself, she has no past to relate to their's. A culture shock, adopted from street lives rather than the D.C. - "revenge." - she's not comfortable to say the least. Pointed eyes at Amelia; Reinhardt hunted her down past criminal records, he watched her one eye squint. 

It's a threat, he clenched his jaw, trying to remain relaxed -- she and Amelia would kill each other yet. 

For a second they all sit awkwardly, placed around a circle in the training center. He fixed his collar, drinking another gulp of coffee- dear lord. Reinhardt tried to swallow spit along with it; there was quite a bit to process. A learning curve between himself and the eleven trainees, Alejandra still waiting for assessment, but he relaxed himself. 

"Much obliged!" 

Echoing in this high room of the center, his voice louder than intended, but there was a sort of confidence in it- in a way he could make this work, could make peacekeepers out of these kids. Couldn't even say he just realized this, only that it was confirmed: there was work to do.

And he couldn't stop smiling.