Jamison "Junkrat" Fawkes (
muroieda) wrote in
legionworld2017-03-05 05:50 pm
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Entry tags:
I'm waking up to ash and dust
Who| You! And a fried demolitions expert only known as Junkrat.
What| Junkrat scopes out his new living situation upon Legion World.
Where| Various places around the ship.
When| A few days after Junkrat's arrival
Warnings/Notes| None - yet.
He really doesn't appreciate the fact the he's been brought here against his will, but since the guy that seems responsible is a tad indisposed to making his presence tangible, he'll have to sideline any plans on giving this time-keeper or whatever it is a piece of his mind. The more important part is that he's been offered a job, and Junkrat pretty much took it immediately without giving it much thought. No job too big, no score too small. He was daydreaming and tuned out the fine print and rules - there were always rules - and they always got broken, and it never really mattered because he always got the job done, whether or not that was under the purview of their restrictions or not.
Superpowers and malicious omnipotents and intergalactic peace. Cool. Whatever. When does he get to blow something up?
On second thought, how was he supposed to blow things up in the first place? He's arrived empty-handed except for his clothes and prosthetics, which--on one hand, he's thankful enough for what he still has--but on the other, it's going to be a pain in the ass if he lands himself in a bad situation.
Could be worse. Could always be worse. Besides, this place seems rather...peaceful? There's all sorts of shapes and sizes of people (?) around here, and Junkrat isn't sure if he fits in or stands out. Like any other job, he needs to (a) scope the place out, and (b) gather materials.
A typical day in the life of Junkrat, even if it involves being displaced some thousand years in the future on a space ship. He's always been adaptable.
----- A: ENGINEERING BAY -----
Of course, this is the first place he ends up. Eager mechanics and engineers are glad to share their knowledge with someone who seems expresses an energetic curiosity and interest, asking questions that only someone proficient in the craft would have the initiative to ask. It's all a front, of course - the questions are distractions so that he can pinch whatever material and tools are laying about, free for the taking. Junkrat's just arrived here and he's already breaking the rules, and he figures that he'll stop when his bag gets full...you know, eventually?
Plus, he's learning an awful lot about this machinery all at once. Very fascinating - from where he once stood, all of this was only in theory. Not necessarily something he'd make...but good to know. Just in case.
----- B: MESS HALL -----
When Junkrat heard that he'd have to have a uniform, he figured that it was going to be some lame, stuffy outfit that looked the same as everyone else's. The thought made him gag, and he'd honestly go naked before having to join swaths of monotonously-dressed coworkers.
After seeing the kind of outfits everyone on this ship wears, he's come to realize that he was mistaken. No, they're not all the same, but they're still lame and stuffy - and he's learned that you actually get a say in what it ends up looking like.
He may be stretching the interpretation of "say" in this case.
Instead of working with the clothiers develop something together, he's gathered up a sketchbook and some markers and landed in the mess hall to get to work. The noise and activity might be too much for most people, but the background of controlled chaos helps him think - plus, he gets free food here, which is probably the greatest thing he's found out since wandering this place. While he shovels food of an unknown origin into his mouth, he doodles various design ideas. He's quite good at drawing, even though his notes are written in legible but atrocious handwriting. Those poor Anthramites are going to have a run for their money on this one.
----- C: OBSERVATION DECK -----
There's not much for him here, and yet...
Junkrat leans against the railing, taking in the view in awed and uncharacteristic silence. He's been to so many places, seen so many different things, all on a single planet. And here it is - a whole other planet, ripe for exploration and hyjinx. And this is the only place you could ever get a view like this...well, while still being able to breathe, anyway.
With metal fingers stroking his jaw idly, this quiet moment is probably the first time that the reality of the situation is really starting to dawn on him.
...it's kind of scary, isn't it? Not only has he been thrust into this ship with a responsibility he knows he doesn't fully understand, on some magnitude he can't really conceive - but he's staring out at a planet at a distance that makes it feel like you could reach out and pick it up.
He feels so small.
What| Junkrat scopes out his new living situation upon Legion World.
Where| Various places around the ship.
When| A few days after Junkrat's arrival
Warnings/Notes| None - yet.
He really doesn't appreciate the fact the he's been brought here against his will, but since the guy that seems responsible is a tad indisposed to making his presence tangible, he'll have to sideline any plans on giving this time-keeper or whatever it is a piece of his mind. The more important part is that he's been offered a job, and Junkrat pretty much took it immediately without giving it much thought. No job too big, no score too small. He was daydreaming and tuned out the fine print and rules - there were always rules - and they always got broken, and it never really mattered because he always got the job done, whether or not that was under the purview of their restrictions or not.
Superpowers and malicious omnipotents and intergalactic peace. Cool. Whatever. When does he get to blow something up?
On second thought, how was he supposed to blow things up in the first place? He's arrived empty-handed except for his clothes and prosthetics, which--on one hand, he's thankful enough for what he still has--but on the other, it's going to be a pain in the ass if he lands himself in a bad situation.
Could be worse. Could always be worse. Besides, this place seems rather...peaceful? There's all sorts of shapes and sizes of people (?) around here, and Junkrat isn't sure if he fits in or stands out. Like any other job, he needs to (a) scope the place out, and (b) gather materials.
A typical day in the life of Junkrat, even if it involves being displaced some thousand years in the future on a space ship. He's always been adaptable.
----- A: ENGINEERING BAY -----
Of course, this is the first place he ends up. Eager mechanics and engineers are glad to share their knowledge with someone who seems expresses an energetic curiosity and interest, asking questions that only someone proficient in the craft would have the initiative to ask. It's all a front, of course - the questions are distractions so that he can pinch whatever material and tools are laying about, free for the taking. Junkrat's just arrived here and he's already breaking the rules, and he figures that he'll stop when his bag gets full...you know, eventually?
Plus, he's learning an awful lot about this machinery all at once. Very fascinating - from where he once stood, all of this was only in theory. Not necessarily something he'd make...but good to know. Just in case.
----- B: MESS HALL -----
When Junkrat heard that he'd have to have a uniform, he figured that it was going to be some lame, stuffy outfit that looked the same as everyone else's. The thought made him gag, and he'd honestly go naked before having to join swaths of monotonously-dressed coworkers.
After seeing the kind of outfits everyone on this ship wears, he's come to realize that he was mistaken. No, they're not all the same, but they're still lame and stuffy - and he's learned that you actually get a say in what it ends up looking like.
He may be stretching the interpretation of "say" in this case.
Instead of working with the clothiers develop something together, he's gathered up a sketchbook and some markers and landed in the mess hall to get to work. The noise and activity might be too much for most people, but the background of controlled chaos helps him think - plus, he gets free food here, which is probably the greatest thing he's found out since wandering this place. While he shovels food of an unknown origin into his mouth, he doodles various design ideas. He's quite good at drawing, even though his notes are written in legible but atrocious handwriting. Those poor Anthramites are going to have a run for their money on this one.
----- C: OBSERVATION DECK -----
There's not much for him here, and yet...
Junkrat leans against the railing, taking in the view in awed and uncharacteristic silence. He's been to so many places, seen so many different things, all on a single planet. And here it is - a whole other planet, ripe for exploration and hyjinx. And this is the only place you could ever get a view like this...well, while still being able to breathe, anyway.
With metal fingers stroking his jaw idly, this quiet moment is probably the first time that the reality of the situation is really starting to dawn on him.
...it's kind of scary, isn't it? Not only has he been thrust into this ship with a responsibility he knows he doesn't fully understand, on some magnitude he can't really conceive - but he's staring out at a planet at a distance that makes it feel like you could reach out and pick it up.
He feels so small.
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"I don't know if people should, ah, 'cark it already' just because they have a healthy sense of self-preservation. It's a personal decision, you know? I don't think there's anything wrong with that way of thinking, it's just not how I operate."
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At least he's honest. Junkrat holds up his metal prosthetic to make his point.
"But at the same time, I ain't gonna envy anyone that does. Nothing ventured, nothing gained! I ain't gonna be the one to hunt them down just 'cause they like followin' orders, unless those orders are ta come after me arse. Happens more than you'd think!"
Or maybe it happens exactly as often as she thinks it does; he still hasn't the slightest idea that she recognizes him.
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"Does it now? But you don't have to worry about that here, do you?"
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"Um..."
Junkrat raps his fingers against the table, looking around at the sparsely populated mess hall as if he were suddenly panicked about someone watching him from the shadows.
"Not yet? I don't think anyone here recognizes me. Which is nice! Fresh start and all that. Not an opportunity ya get very often!"
If only he knew how wrong he was - on either point.
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"What do you plan to do with your newfound anonymity?"
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So it's time for an abrupt topic change.
"Tell me about her! I've never had much of a family, what's it like?"
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"I'm not sure we were the best example. Our relationship was ... complicated." And honestly not something she's about to open up to in front of a complete stranger who happens to be a known criminal. "I can tell you families can be as great as they are infuriating."
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He gives her a lopsided yet genuine grin, and puts down his marker. Junkrat presses his hands together, folding his mismatched fingers between each other, resting his chin on them to show her his pure, undivided attention.
"Like I said, ya sound like ya need a couch and an armchair. I just happen ta be fresh out, but I'll do me best."
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Nope. Junkrat slams his hand down on the sketchbook to hide his work from view. It doesn't change the fact that it's been out for casual peeking this entire time -- it's a distraction now, and he won't have that!
"Wasn't tryin' to pitch meself as one," he replies honestly. "Sometimes ya just need a friend. Or just an ear to chew on. Secret's safe with me, promise."
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But, neither is she giving in on her own hesitance to open up. "Or sometimes, you need to mind your own business." Never mind that she's the one that instigated conversation in the first place. "We can talk about something else, how do you like the accommodations here?"
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"Ya know, earlier -- I was just jokin' about the couch and armchair, but I'm not so sure anymore." Refusing to talk about it even on vague terms to a (supposed) stranger? Now there's some problems thick enough he'd never be able to blast through them.
"Fine. Topic change, then."
A pause. Accommodations? Has he really checked any of them out yet? Doesn't really seem like it -- he's just been wandering on whim.
He pushes the sketchbook towards her instead.
"We're s'posed to wear some kinda uniform. Lotta people seem keen on the whole spandex unitard thing, but I'm not too fond of wearing that much clothing. Shocking - I know." Here he sits shirtless in a mess hall with nothing but singed capris to keep him decent. "So I'm tryin'ta consolidate the dress code with somethin' I wouldn't mind wearin', somethin' that'll leave plenty'a clearance for me prosthetics. Easier said than done. Wouldn't call meself a fashion designer by any stretch of the imagination, but I s'pose everyone's gotta start somewhere."
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"No, I can't imagine spandex would work so easily over robotics. What about something like -- board shorts? In flashy colors?"
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His response is immediate and flat, low and full of vocal fry. Through their entire conversation, it seems like that is the thing to finally rub him the wrong way. Are you really going to use that phrasing around someone from Junkertown, Fareeha?
"I'm thinkin' along those lines, yeah. But I was also spitballin' about tryin' out some darker colors too -- change things up a bit. Gotta look like a hero, roight? Somethin' charismatic ta inspire others."
There's a short pause, and he looks down at his notebook and lets out a self-deprecatory giggle. How charismatic can a pale, half-bald flagpole of a bloke instill inspiration in anyone?
"I know I might be tryin'ta shovel against the tide here, but I'm giving it me best shot."
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Although heaven forbid they ever get into a discussion about Omnics, sentience, and ethics, because she very solidly stands with the Omnics she's worked with.
"Blacks and res, then? Something dramatic?" She gives him an encouraging smile, "I think you'll do just fine."
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He gives her a genuine grin.
"Fer a sheila with mummy problems, yer a real swell mate."
At least until he finds out that she's an Omnic sympathizer.
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"Could we not use the term 'mummy'? It makes me sounds like I'm five years old." She smiles back, genuine, but there's a little note in her head not to get too chummy with him, or at least to excersize caution since he was a known criminal. She'd probably check with Jack to see if he remembers the name or had any other advice to add.
Still, she had to admit he had a certain rough charm about him.
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For what it's worth, his expression makes it really obvious that he just means to tease her harmlessly. He knows that he has a plethora of problems that completely overshadow any psychological hang-ups caused by strained relationships with parents. Let it be known that he keeps perspective in mind - even though it doesn't seem like it most of the time; it's not like he feels jealousy or anything along those lines. Everyone has their own pile of crap to deal with, and he's just fine calling his pile his own.
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"Mummy it is, then. You know, for a prying obstinate Aussie you're not too bad yourself." A little grin back at him. "I think yellow is a good color choice." She's got a bit on her own uniform.
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Was he hearing her correctly? Junkrat opens his mouth to retort, then closes it. Congratulations, Fareeha, you've been one of the few people to actually get Junkrat to shut up, even for a brief moment.
"Ah, come off it..."
Under the soot and dirt, his face flushes red and looks away from her as he reaches across himself to rub at his opposite shoulder bashfully.
"No one's ever said that ta me before."
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Which, of course, is one reason why she had continued to sit with him instead of excusing herself when she made the realization.
"What kind of people have you been surrounding yourself with?"
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He shrugs, barely bothered by this. That's just how life has always been.
"Even me best friend, Roadhog--we're always takin' the piss on each other, but it's all in good spirits." He grins, not a single piece of his smile suggesting that it could be anything else. "Y'd know somethin' was off if we weren't tearin' each other a new one."
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"Sounds like a pretty lively crew." She eats thoughtfully for a moment, then looks back up at him and asks with a careful tone, "Do you miss it? People trying to 'tear you a new one'?"
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It's a good question. Junkrat cants his head to the side, using a real hand to scratch at his jaw thoughtfully as he gives some genuine thought to the question.
"It's nice ta meet people that are friendly, ya know, the real kinda friendly and ain't tryin' ta get ya ta buy into what they're sellin', but...I don't like bein' handled with kid gloves either. People tryin' ta sugar-coat things just makes me feel like they're tryin' ta lie or hide somethin'."
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oh, feeha...
uh oh oops XD
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