Just a little short story of how I think early morning games would be like.

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“Who dares challenge the great Mirage next?” 

Mirage stood beside a corner booth, arms wide and chest puffed, gloating. Crypto sat behind him at the table, his head propped up by his fist in defeat. He had let him win a simple game of arm wrestle just so he wouldn’t deflate on the spot, and now watching the outcome, he wished he had never even agreed to play. He watched his chaotic companion warily as he let out one of his iconic laughs. “No one volunteers?” he said victoriously.

It was dead quiet on the dropship. Tired, annoyed, impatient eyes glared holes into the obnoxious Legend, and after realizing this, Mirage’s smile disappeared. He flopped his arms down in disappointment. “Damn, rough crowd.”

“No one would wanna challenge you anyway, Elliot.” Bangalore said from the left side of the ship. She was focused upon sharpening her blade, but she picked up the weapon, turning it in the faint light above her. She seemed mesmerized by it’s tinted surface. She dropped the hand with the weapon then to her side before looking up at the confused Legend, raising her voice slightly when she realized the attention of the ship was now focused upon her. “You’re too weak of an opponent.” She stopped to think for a moment before finishing her line. “Well, at least for most of us in here.”

Mirage’s mouth dropped open, flabbergasted and seemingly offended. Crypto’s eyes narrowed, focusing in on the now-smirking Legend. Newcastle, who was reclining on a sofa beside Bangalore, piped up. “Hey buddy, might wanna close that piehole of yours before your jaw hits the floor.” There were a few chuckles that resounded around the medium-sized space. Mirage, who was still standing, snapped his mouth shut, the tips of his ears reddening.

“Hey bro, not cool.” he whined out. “You all are just chickens anyways, you’re too scared of losing and would rather throw out insults than get physical.” The room went silent quick, and multiple heads whipped around to look at the two. Bangalore leaned forward, elbows on her knees, and squinted at the Legend, who shrunk ever so slightly under her gaze. Newcastle pursed his lips but didn’t seem to react otherwise.

“Ay, let’s not get too rowdy before the match fellas.” Fuse chimed out from a spot near the front. He was leaning up against one of the metal walls of the dropship, Bloodhound hovering close by. The hunter shifted from foot to foot, obviously uncomfortable with so many eyes aimed in his direction. When she heard this, Mad Maggie, who was seated near the front beside two Syndicate guards, rolled her eyes hard. Some gave her looks, others just shrugged. 

“He’s right.” Seer acknowledged from his seat at a table near the middle of the room. Rampart and Gibraltar sat with him, taking swigs of their coffees. Or that’s at least what they told everybody it was, even though the substance in the mugs smelled strongly of alcohol up close. “Now’s not the time to be hurtful. It will come soon.” He went quiet just as soon as he had spoken, and his words seemed to untense the ship as a whole. 

It wasn’t long, however, before the overhead speakers came on announcing the dropship’s arrival to the map. It had seemed like ages since departure, and Legends were already on their feet, anxiously checking monitors and finding out who would be on who’s team. Obviously everyone was itching to get off the ship. Mirage growled as he stood, Crypto already up. “Why is everyone always so grumpy?” he muttered. Octane had been quickly passing by as he had blurted the comment out, and the boy glanced warily at the trickster before continuing on.