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need_healing[A light snow drifts gently down from the grey sky, sticking in fluffy clumps to the trees and rocks surrounding a secluded grotto in the mountains, steam cloaking the clear pool of warm water and the small, wooden hut perched on its bank. Strings of prayer flags tied to posts mark a path through the fog, a lonely trail of color winding through an otherwise muted landscape.
It had been several days since Genji and Angela had finally arrived at the Shambali monastery. Zenyatta had, as expected, been delighted to finally meet 'the Dr. Zeigler who had done so much for his student' and had welcomed them both with open arms. Quite literally. The omnic's presence never failed to put Genji's mind at ease, even more so now knowing that they were safe here. That Angela was safe. He'd shown her about the temple and the village below, introducing her as needed to those he'd come to know in his time on the mountain. They had become his family, and the significance isn't lost on him.
However, it also meant that the time he could spend with Angela was cut shorter than he would have liked. Returning home meant returning to certain responsibilities and duties, and she hadn't been permitted to stay in the temple itself. Genji knew better than to think his master would be blind to his newfound distraction, but he'd done his best to be dutiful. And even still, he must have worn it like a brand across his forehead when Zenyatta had suggested, in that gentle, half-subtle way of his, that he take Angela to enjoy the hot springs down in the valley. It was very dry in the mountains, he said; the villagers claimed that the steam did wonders for the skin. Genji had agreed and done his best not to immediately forget he'd had the conversation.
But now, standing in the hut with Angela, the two of them bundled up in the thick, colorful wool of the local village fashion, looking out at the springs... he's glad he followed through.]
...No snowflake ever falls in the wrong place. [He murmurs it almost to himself, a simple mantra, almost childlike in its simplicity, and he feels the peace of the moment washing over him as the words leave his lips.]
What do you think, Angela? [He glances over her as he tugs his mittens off, one hand flesh and blood, the other bare cybernetics. There's little need for armor in a place like this.]
It had been several days since Genji and Angela had finally arrived at the Shambali monastery. Zenyatta had, as expected, been delighted to finally meet 'the Dr. Zeigler who had done so much for his student' and had welcomed them both with open arms. Quite literally. The omnic's presence never failed to put Genji's mind at ease, even more so now knowing that they were safe here. That Angela was safe. He'd shown her about the temple and the village below, introducing her as needed to those he'd come to know in his time on the mountain. They had become his family, and the significance isn't lost on him.
However, it also meant that the time he could spend with Angela was cut shorter than he would have liked. Returning home meant returning to certain responsibilities and duties, and she hadn't been permitted to stay in the temple itself. Genji knew better than to think his master would be blind to his newfound distraction, but he'd done his best to be dutiful. And even still, he must have worn it like a brand across his forehead when Zenyatta had suggested, in that gentle, half-subtle way of his, that he take Angela to enjoy the hot springs down in the valley. It was very dry in the mountains, he said; the villagers claimed that the steam did wonders for the skin. Genji had agreed and done his best not to immediately forget he'd had the conversation.
But now, standing in the hut with Angela, the two of them bundled up in the thick, colorful wool of the local village fashion, looking out at the springs... he's glad he followed through.]
...No snowflake ever falls in the wrong place. [He murmurs it almost to himself, a simple mantra, almost childlike in its simplicity, and he feels the peace of the moment washing over him as the words leave his lips.]
What do you think, Angela? [He glances over her as he tugs his mittens off, one hand flesh and blood, the other bare cybernetics. There's little need for armor in a place like this.]
