@kniveofhearts liked for a starter
A bare of his teeth. Junkrat didn’t know what to think when spotted someone standing in front of a fountain, spouting shite and bullocks. It was familiar. Right into the back of his mind, grating on his nerves and tempting him. Tempting him to rip off his shoe and chuck it into his face. That’s right.
Back in Junkertown, there was someone who’d spout something about some sort of religion. Back then, Junkrat didn’t pay attention. Would ignore him. Would continue on his day and scavenge for his parts and trinkets to perfect his bombs. So the guy was all the way out here now?
Growling, Junkrat’s shoulders hunched. Junkers were dangerous. Far more dangerous than the pigs and even some Bounty Hunters. Junkers. He grew up with them. They’ve seen him and slowly learned weaknesses and limits. Although, Junkrat was certain this loon hasn’t paid attention to him. Closing his newspaper (He wasn’t even reading it!!), Junkrat stood from his seat. People around him shifted uncomfortably. They’d think this turn out into some sort of fight? Junker verse junker?