Template:Featured Articles/51-2020

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MoA Dazzler.png
Moment of Awesome - Alison Blaire/Dazzler: FullTiltDva is 'relaxing' with a video game when someone small, blond and floating appears to comment on her choice of insults.


Alison would be the first one to admit, she had a pretty good life. Sure, her father was quite possibly the worst and her mother had been MIA since she was young, but other than that. She was young and healthy, and (she liked to hope) at least relatively smart. Some would say she was too trusting or naive, which Alison knew they meant as an insult but considered a compliment anyway. She had a good degree (audio-acoustic engineering) from a good school (USC), and... kind of a good career? That she'd been away from for too long. But that was... it wasn't... Okay. That wasn't great. But she was working on it! Slowly. In private. Where nobody could see. God she didn't want to mess it up.

She had friends in the mansion that she loved to hang out with and mentors that she trusted and looked up to. All in all, she would always say that she had very little to complain about.

Of course, there was her one... guilty pleasure. On bad days, when nothing seemed like they could go right and she was just sick to death of dealing with people and their endless... 'peopleness', Alison liked to retreat away into her room, boot up the computer that she normally used to remix her music, put on her headset, and just relax...

"The payload is reaching its destination." "It's High Noon." "I need healing!"

"OH MY GOD, WHY DO YOU ALL SUCK SO BAD?!"

For a given definition of relax, at least.

"WHAT ARE YOU... No, don't you dare f-- GOD DAMMIT GET ON THE PAYLO-- WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GOING?!?" she found new things to be upset about before she could even finish her original reason to be upset. Her microphone wasn't open,of course. Not a chance. God forbid. She had an image to maintain, after all. But still, her teammates were the worst.

This was why FullTiltDVa hated playing with randos.

Alison dropped her head onto her arms with a thud, whining to fight off a headache.

"Defeat!"

"I just want you to know that I hate all of you," she said into her arms, not even bothering to look at the screen. "You and your cows."

"Um excuse me, you can't have a pet cow." The voice came from somewhere about eight inches above her left ear, and only registered on Alison's powers about half as much as it should have, given the volume.

A moment later, a head of blond hair and then a round cheerful face appeared in the top of her eyeline, followed by the rest of a floating, upside-down small child. "A cow would make a milk mess. That's why we can't have one. I said so."

Alison sighed into her arms. "It was a Mulan reference," she groaned, then paused. That... hadn't come from her game.

She looked up and came face to grin with a floating six year old. As such, she did what any intelligent, well adjusted and not at all frustrated Overwatch player would have done in that situation.

She screamed and fell off her chair.