#headsetradio

                     honestly, people can’t even go out on a murderous rampage now a days.          junkrat quietly shifted from foot to peg leg, observing the things around him. this wasn’t the   jungles, where he had hunted a few men of his own volition for several months. but rather some   place he felt more at home at, an actual battlefield, a fight worthy of his name. he wasn’t     hunting prey, he was having fun. no need to be quiet, stealthy, and out smart his opponents.         just lob his bombs, and have some fun.          though he had to admit when cornered he acted more wild, he didn’t have rules, or                 standards. so it must of been quite a sight to see junkrat using his tire to push a guy into a   wall, rather crushingly, while also punching a man half to death.   both were bloody, and junkrat was covered in flecks of their blood, before he dropped them          both, finally done. and glanced up at lucio, wiping his face and frowning at the smears of blood    now on his arm and face.

he has to squat to look lucio in the eye ))

❝ LUCIO, I PRESUME. ❞ The man before him is so small that Akande feels almost compelled to protect him, rather than obligated by contract and payment to do so. It’s truly no wonder he requires a bodyguard, especially now that he’s been receiving threats, which seems like such a strange concept now that the musician is actually in front of him. He can’t quite understand why anyone would want to harm someone who seems so innocent and defenseless. Perhaps there’s more to Lucio than Akande realizes, but for now, it’s baffling.

“Do I hear… a sore loser?”