@scrapgunnerâ || FIRST MEETINGS
   Something about tonight felt different than other ones. As Junkertownâs bustling, busy roads became empty, the oppressive silence made it difficult for him to feel anything but restless. No amount of tossing and turning could get him to sleep long enough to feel satisfied, and his attention had been far too scattered to stay focused long enough for him to tinker with any weaponry. In hindsight, he really should have stayed indoors. Safer there than anywhere else. God knows who heâd cross paths with during these hours, but really... He was at the end of his rope.
   Stretching limbs and with plenty of loud yawns, Junkrat hobbled out onto the dusty roads with paper and charcoals in hand, paying barely any mind to the serene scenery of the night sky hanging high above. A little noise would do him good - at least that was usually what put his mind at ease. Itâs a wonder how the bar is still open at this ungodly hour, but nonetheless, itâs a good enough place to seek refuge from the humid, quiet outdoors.
   Stepping inside, he notes how little customers there seemed to be. Only a few colorful groups wasting their night away together with a shared drink or two. Nothing too grand. Nothing too exciting. No one he really knew much about either. Only the occasional familiar scowling face or two was sighted as he found himself the closest seat on one of several empty bar stools, quick to unfurl the stained pages and soaking in what little sounds he could get from nearby conversations before scribbling mindlessly away. It was a pleasant change for the time being. For as long as it lasted. He hadnât even noticed the sound of the doors creaking open - but the bar quickly falling into an uneasy silence...?
   ...That was enough for him to turn his head back towards the oppressive figure now looming at the doorway.