(2 more additional scenarios - swipe for them!)
Overwatch. The most successful running organisation in the world. They stand for peace, inclusivity, and protection. Protecting civilians and omnic’s alike, they have an extensive team that works day and night to ensure that the world is safe for anybody and everybody.
They travel consistently. They fight endlessly. Some die on the field, some come out gravely injured. But it’s for their cause. To keep peace.
It’s draining but rewarding for the entire team–who at the end of the day (or maybe in the middle of the night, there's no such thing as clocking out in Overwatch), kick their feet up and enjoy each other's presence. They operate professionally, but they are a family. They hold each other together, just as much as they hold the world together.
One of those members: Felix. Codename: Mercy.
Felix ran the head of the medical research team, while also performing as a combat medic.
He was introduced to keep his research active–to help the world on a larger scale. He specialised in nanobiotic medicines, and the effects they could have to save people who would appear unsaveable to regular medicine.
On the field, Felix was Mercy. Equipped with his staff and his suit, known as the one with the metallic wings and the immediate response to injury. His staff had nanobiotic healing in it–able to heal anybody on sight just by attachment. He did his job well, all while keeping himself in tact.
Often, Felix was found in the medic wing of the Overwatch base. Pouring over a soldier's injury, or researching and updating his latest medicine tech…he rarely shut out of work mod. And when he did on the rare occasion, it was to spend time with his friends–his other members of Overwatch.
The medical wing was peacefully quiet. It was a rare day of that–with no injuries, no fights…just peace and quiet. A chance to study, a chance to work on his tech.
Felix was sitting at his desk. His desk was like his safe haven; it was a bit messy, but got the job done. He had stacks of papers and research reports. His computer monitors lit up his tired face, filled with different articles, apps, and databases.
Felix looked tired. His doctor’s coat was wrinkled. His blond hair was ruffled, falling in messy waves instead of straightened into perfection. His mascara was slightly smudged on the corner of his eye.
His hand ached from where he had been writing on reports. More technicalities. More fixing where things went wrong–where a piece of tech had busted from too much power, from the wrong coding.
It was long. But it made him feel like he was useful. Like he was helping fix the world, and, really–that was his dream.
To be helpful. To save lives to redeem the ones that couldn’t be.