"Welcome, friends!" Winston, current leader of the reformed Overwatch organization, looked out over his allies who answered his recall order who had gathered here at Watchpoint Gibraltar after Winston had notified them that he had something to bring them all in on. Faces of friends such as Torbjörn Lindholm, Mei-Ling Zhou, Reinhardt Wilhelm, and others looked back to him. At the front of the group stood Lena Oxton, affectionately called Tracer, who looked towards her friend Winston in admiration. "I've asked for you to all join me here today so that I can inform you of our new method of combating Talon."
Talon. The very mention of the terrorist organization caused the expressions of every gathered Overwatch agent to harden. Overwatch had a very legitimate reason to despise Talon, as they had robbed Overwatch of two good friends in the form of Gabriel Reyes and Amélie Lacroix, now known as Reaper and Widowmaker respectively.
The faces of those who gathered quickly softened when Doctor Angela Ziegler, commonly referred to as Mercy in the field, stepped forward from behind Winston and stand by his side. She clasped her hands together, smiled to everyone gathered as Winston motioned towards her. "Angela has developed a fascinating technology that we wish to share with all of you."
"That's right!" Mercy stepped forward, her gentle voice laced with excitement as she lifted a small storage crate that had rested beside Winston's feet and held it at chest level for everyone to take notice of. "I was conducting research intended to allow agents with pre-existing disabilities or debilitating conditions the ability to still perform in the field by allowing them to wear laboratory-grown limbs to replace those of their own which do not work or are hindering their ability to perform at their highest level."
There was silence for a moment until...
"What?" Torbjorn had awkwardly broken the silence as the stoutly man had blurted the word out in confusion, apparently not understanding what the good doctor had just said.
Mercy laughed softly and smiled to Torbjorn. "In layman's terms, we grew limbs that agents could wear over their own and gain the strength of that limb in place of their own. Basically, I developed a technology to wear these limbs like clothing and, when worn, they would temporarily become your own limbs."
Torbjorn's face lit up as he understood the description. "Oh, I see! That oughta help us when we're under a lot of fire!"
Mercy acknowledged Torbjorn's statement with a mere nod before tapping the storage crate with her palm. "Thanks to an idea from Winston, we came up with another use for this technology that... well, I suppose is a little morally questionable, but I feel that it is justified since our target is Talon itself! With a little creative thinking, we were able to trap and detain one of Talon's brightest minds and..." Mercy unlatched the crate, opening in and turning it so that the gathered agents could glimpse inside. "... do this to her."
Everyone gasped in surprise as, when the storage crate was tilted for them to look inside, what looked like human skin flopped lifelessly within. The tilting of the crate prompted an empty face to flop into a position that pointed towards the onlookers. The bright red hair and metallic face plate gave away immediately what they were looking at with Tracer immediately piping up in a bewildered tone. "Bloody hell, that's Moira O'Deorain! The Talon scientist! Is... that real?"
Winston nodded firmly. "Completely. What you are looking at is the real Moira O'Deorain after we lured her into a trap and detained her. Angela hooked her up to her device, at my descretion of course, and initiated the procedure that would turn an entire body into one of these... wearable... uh..." Winston scratched the side of his head, apparently unable to think of an exact word to finish his sentence before shaking his head. "Think of her now as a costume that, when worn, will let you be her. Angela verified that the procedure was a success after putting on one of Moira's arms."
"It felt weird." Mercy shuddered after her interjection, glancing down towards the skin in the crate. "With all of the enhacements and experiments she performed on herself, it felt... uncomfortable to be wearing an arm that had endured such alterations. Fortunately I will not have to do that again!"
"Again?" Reinhardt stared at the empty skin in confusion. "The fact that she is still in such a state implies that someone is going to be wearing her. If not you, then... ?"
Winston raised a hand to readjust his glasses, motioning off towards his side to an unseen presence. "Someone who is qualified to take on the task of infiltrating Talon for us. Straight from Helix Security International, she is an expert in all things security. She is no stranger to Overwatch, her mother was one of our chief members before our dissolution."
As Winston spoke, a face that was indeed familiar to the agents stepped forward from around a corner. Fareeha Amari, or Pharah, came to a stop beside Winston as she let out a long exhale, her eyes moving towards Mercy at Winston's other side. Mercy glanced towards Pharah knowingly, turning slightly to allow the contents of the storage crate to be visible to her.
"Ana's girl, eh?" Torbjorn crossed his arms, appearing moderately pleased with this development. "You always wanted to work with Overwatch, didn't ya? Looks like you've got yer chance, little one!"
Pharah nodded slightly before moving to stand beside Mercy, taking the storage crate as it was handed to her. For the time being, her attention remained on the Overwatch agents standing in front of her. "I may not be an Overwatch agent, but it still fills me with pride to be working alongside all of you on this mission. I will not let you down."
There were a few claps and words of encouragement that Pharah largely droned out as she tilted the storage crate towards herself to peer in. The face of Moira O'Deorain stared up at her, vacant expression on her face as Pharah stared into the empty eyeholes, her gaze drifting towards the lifeless lips that were twisted into an unnatural position as the face was partially folded in on itself. She swallowed hard before glancing up to meet Winston's gaze as he looked at her curiously. "Are you sure that you are up to this?"
Pharah nodded, tightening her grip on the crate. "I was born ready. Shall I get dressed?"
Winston motioned towards a door that was hidden in a dark alcove along the corner of the room. "Take all the time you need. We won't disturb you."
Letting out a nervous sigh, Pharah simply made her way past Winston and headed towards the door at a brisk pace. The sound of Moira's skin bouncing around slightly with each step was mildly distracting, but Pharah was able to ignore it after several steps as she cleared her mind. As she approached the door, it opened automatically to reveal a small office that Winston was probably using. She entered quickly, the door shutting on its own behind her as she set the storage crate down onto the desk. She reached in and grabbed hold of the empty skin within, pausing before even lifting it as she simply rubbed her thumbs along where she had gripped. It felt weird. The texture was definitely that of skin, but to feel no fat, muscle, or bone padding it underneath gave the skin a truly strange feel to it. After a further few seconds of running her thumbs along the portion she held, Pharah carefully lifted the skin from the crate, seeing that she had been holding the empty shoulders of the husk that was Moira O'Deorain. Pharah carefully laid the skin out across the surface of the desk, letting it stretch out to Moira's regular height. From what Pharah could observe, Moira was definitely taller than her. It was hard to discern from her empty skin, but her waistline looked narrower as well, leading Pharah to believe that Moira was also a great deal thinner than her as well. Was this really going to work? How was she going to fool anyone when Moira was taller and thinner than her?
After a few minutes of undressing and putting her own clothing neatly aside in organized pile, Pharah returned to Moira's empty skin on the desk. She pulled it from the wooden surface and held it up to inspect it, turning it all around. There didn't seem to be any visible holes for her to enter from, which drew Pharah's attention to the only location that made sense - the mouth. SHe held Moira's empty face in both hands, looking at it curiously as she reached forward to prod at the woman's lower lip. She recoiled for a second, the feel of the empty lip reminding Pharah of a dry slug. She blinked a few more times before setting her fingers on the lip, gently running them along the perimeter of it as she thought to herself momentarily. After letting out another sigh, Pharah nodded to herself and took Moira's mouth in her hands, each lip held by a hand, and she began to pull and stretch the mouth open to test its elasticity. Pharah was surprised to find that Moira's mouth stretched a good few feet before there was any tension in the skin as it began to resist any further stretching. Still, it was more than enough. This surely must have been how Mercy had tested the skin previously, by inserting her arm in through Moira's mouth and working it into Moira's own arm.
With Moira's mouth stretched wide open, Pharah carefully inserted her right foot. She paused for a moment, glancing down at the absolutely bizarre sight, before taking it upon herself to simply press on. She slid her foot down into Moira's torso as the lips of the empty face hugged Pharah's leg as more and more of it slid through like a snake. When Pharah's foot finally descended into Moira's leg, she was quickly to lean over and tug the empty foot on like a sock, her toes slotting into Moira's perfectly. The shape of the foot wasn't Pharah's at all, which prompted Pharah to curiously pull the skin of the leg up so that the entirety of her right leg was within Moira's. To Pharah's surprise, there wasn't any sagging skin, no wrinkles, nothing. What Pharah saw was simply Moira's long, slender leg. She wiggled the toes, eyebrows raising slightly as she watched Moira's toes respond to her. Mouth half agape in wonder, Pharah rested her dark-skinned hands on the leg and ran her palms over the pale skin. She was in disbelief at the stark contrast in skin tones between herself and Moira, and the feeling of Moira's leg was so surreal to her. The texture of Moira's skin was so different than her own. While Moira was more than a decade older than the thirty two year old Pharah, the skin of the Talon scientist didn't look or feel a day over thirty. Whatever medical miracle Mercy had used to keep herself looking so youthful must have been employed by the even older Moira as well. Pharah shook her head slightly in disbelief. "For a woman pressing fifty, you certainly take amazing care of yourself!"
When Pharah finally got over the feeling of Moira's leg, she inserted her other through the empty mouth. Moira's mouth started to resist slightly, but there was still a bit of an elasticity to the lips which reassured Pharah that she wasn't in any danger of causing any unfortunate accidents. As her left leg slid down into Moira's, Pharah repeated the process she had performed with the other, smoothing out the leg before standing up looking down at her now pale, pasty looking legs. She smirked to herself at the bizarre sight of Moira's lips now hugging the bottom of her belly, the rest of her body bunched up awkwardly along her waist It all seemed to be working the way Pharah thought it would so, without bothering to feel up the second leg as much as she had the first, Pharah grabbed Moira's cheeks and pulled the face up further until the chin of Moira brushed gently against the bottom of Pharah's breasts. She swalloed again, lifting her own left arm and looking it over before her eyes fell to the lips wrapped around her torso. This next part would probably test the limits of elasticity of Moira's mouth. Carefully, Pharah slipped her fingers underneath the stretched lip and worked her way into Moira's left arm. The more her of arm that entered, the more the lips protested as they neared their limit. Still, Pharah pressed on as she slid her arm in past Moira's mouth. She knew that, once she got the arms out of the way, the rest would be a cakewalk.
As Pharah's fingers brushed through Moira's rest, they found their way into her fingers. This prompted Pharah to seize the skin of the wrist and pull her the hand onto her own like a glove. Moira's long and dainty fingers immediately came to life as Pharah grabbed Moira's shoulder and gave it a snug pull. She then pauised for a moment, staring at the arm that she hadj ust made her own. Letting both arms stretch forward, Pharah was surprised to find Moira's arms to be about two inches longer than her own. She truly was a lanky woman!
The feeling of Moira's lip rubbing against the left side of Pharah's neck snapped her back to attention as she glanced down. Moira's mouth now enveloped her from the left side of her neck down to her right armpit. Carefully, and with Moira's own left hand, Pharah pulled the mouth open and slid her right arm in, slipping it inside of Moira's other arm at a brisk pace and promptly bringing it to life. Pharah ran her new palms over her arms in wonder before she snuddenly made a realization. Glancing down, she noticed that she had indeed becomes Moira from the neckd own. Pharah's eyes widened slightly at the almost supermodel-esque figure of the body she had slowly been filling. Moira's thin, lanky, and borderline anorexic figure would surely be the envy of any model. Pharah's breasts, which were rather ample, were replaced by Moira's small breasts. The Irishwoman was probably barely even a B cup. Pharah shrugged, unperturbed by Moira's breast size as she ran her hands down the thin figure of the body she was wearing. Moira's thin frame was a stark contrast to Pharah's own toned and muscular body, causing Pharah to suddenly revel in the sensation of having a more feminine body shape. Most of all, it was the ghostly complexion of Moira's skin that Pharah in a borderline trance. It was so unlike her own brown Egyptian skin, it truly felt alien to her. She started to let out a quiet laugh of disbelief as she ran both hands down her sides before pausing and reaching up to her neck where Moira's lips hugged it Snugly. Swallowing hard, Pharah decided not to waste any time as she gripped the sides of the lips, stretched the mouth open, and pulled up. Moira's chin came into place almost immediately, prompting Pharah to let go of Moira's lower lip and letting it snap into place over her own. Hands still grasping Moira's upper lip as her face was halfway up the back of Parah's head, Pharah took a moment to pause and stick her tongue out, feeling along her new bottom lip curiously. Her tongue moved back and forth between Pharah's own upper lip and the bottom lip that belonged to Moira, the sensation of two completely different feeling lips proving to be quite the feeling. After a few seconds of this, Pharah exhaled and let her tongue retreat back int oher mouth. With one good tug, she pulled Moira's upper lip up and over her head and pulling it down over her face all in one swift motion. As she did so, Moira's features promptly hugged Pharah's as they almost seemed to desperately want to return to their natural shape. Pharah quickly ran her hands over the mask-like face that was gently resting over her own, snugging securing herself underneath Moira's ears, her nose, her lips, her eyes. Pharah carefully rubbed at the face, expecting to have to smooth it out, but it immediately felt so natural to her. Even the metal plate over half of Moira's face, which had grown cold as a result of not being heated by her body temperature, felt right at home to Pharah. She swallowed hard, looking around for anything resembling a mirror. There was none, but she spotted a window that was reflecting the room in great detail, which she was quickly drawn to. She stopped short of the mirror, staring at the reflection of the tall, pale Irishwoman. She raised her hands, smoothing out Moira's short red hair into a presentable appearance before letting her hands drop down her the face, resting them on her cheeks as she simply stared at her reflection. "I cannot believe th-"
Whoa. Pharah didn't expect to hear the husky voice of the Irishwoman escape her lips, the reflection of Moira staring wide-eyed for a moment before smirking as her hands slowly lowered. "This is much more than I expected. And here I believed I'd simply be wearing you like some kind of costume." Pharah paused, licking her lips excitedly before dashing back to the storage crate and peering down at Moira's outfit in the box. Excitement began to take hold of her as she eagerly wanted to put the outfit on and complete the illusion. Just as she reached in to take the outfit, there was a sudden sharp pain in her head that caused her to halt in her tracks. "A-Ah! What is... ?"
The pain was severe, overwhelming, like a sudden migraine. Pharah leaned on the desk, closing her eyes tightly as she let out a pained groan. Her hands gripped the table tightly as she took several deep breaths. After several long seconds, the pain appeared to relent as she stood up straight, looked down at her own body with a hint of frustration, and then once again reached into the box to adorn Moira's outfit.
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I decided to start writing a short Overwatch story since the models I'd need to pull this off (regular Moira, nude Moira) aren't yet available.
The story is certainly a good one. I have trouble picturing Mercy of all people doing this. She resisted having her medical technology used as a weapon. She willingly and casually murdered Moira for a disguise? Now this story is well written, so hopefully this point will be taken care of.
Pretty good! interesting idea.
Fun to see you write!
Fun to see you write!
Oh and just a suggestion, I think you should try to get as many heros in suits as possible.
Was that pain Moira taking back control?