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"Oh, hoh, hoh, get my share and I'm the pervert?" Octane yelled at the stall, much to the dismay of the man in the shower. "The second you step out of there, you're getting what you deserve."
Mirage winced, casually shampooing his hair. "It was an accident! How was I supposed to know you were shirtless?"
"¡Excusas! You saw me in my most vulnerable and you didn't even take me to dinner. Abshot is at least a kiss on the cheek level."
"I said I was sorry! Besides, no way your lips are touching my perfect, sensitive skin. Now, I'm an open-minded guy and if you're that affected by it, I'd be more than happy to take you out to dinner to consempate. Condem-- cos-- cont-- compensate! Compensate."
"Then do it, cobarde." He clicked his tongue and tipped his head upwards to Crypto, grounding coffee beans on a bench with a mortar and pestle made of Leviathan bones. He replicated, placing his attention back to his activity. Octane gave him a once over, mouthing 'Damn' to himself. "Take me to dinner, or I'm going out with the green guy."
"No, thank you," Crypto commented, offhand.
Octane's feet tapped impatiently on the ground, arms crossed. To be fair, at least, to Mirage, Octane had every right to feel slightly violated. Then again, it was hard not to look at a guy changing right in front of you. For Mirage. Not like he's gay or anything.
Caustic passed by the squabblers in his fit, gigantic stature. "Witt," he remarked, sipping on a mug of coffee from Bloodhound's fresh brew. He smacked his lips with a satisfied 'aah' before continuing, "your inability to surmise opportunity will be your downfall."
The man in the shower paused his cleaning. "Hey! Octavio is a great catch. Probably. I mean, if I was a babe, I'd date him, but not be in a relationship with him. Or as a dude, if he's lucky."
Gibraltar, carrying the pot used to brew his fellow legend's drink, found himself in the company of the toxic trapper. They stood beside the first row of cubicles meant for the storage of belongings for the fighters. It was perpendicular to the showers, adjacent to the vending machines. The mist from the hot water blurred their visions a slight bit, but considering the games, it wasn't too bad. Their focus was captivated by the weird interaction in front of them.
Octane hoisted himself up the shower door, only to be met by a hologram of Mirage pushing him down. "Aii, either you give me dinner or you let me see!"
Gibraltar burped. "Three hundred credits say Elliott asks first." He mused casually.
Caustic scoffed, rolling his eyes to the side. "I'm not one for petty, nonsensical, gambling."
"Five hundred."
"Witt is afraid of Silva's entropy, and as thus, will lie in wait for Silva's overt proposal. You have a deal."
On the benches in front of the vending machines, a television flared to life. Bloodhound and Crypto found themselves studying the replay of their fight. They silently commented on their mistakes, exchanging control of the remote to loop certain moves they knew they could have done differently. The crushed coffee pooled up on the filter paper Crypto finished working on.
It was always a mystery why Bloodhound never opted on a neutral shower room for themselves (and Pathfinder, maybe. Whether or not showers were okay for him, they wanted to figure out on their own). They settled instead for a storage cubicle in both the men and women's shower. Their cubicle, though, had a door that leads to either one. Both parties had no issue with it.
Bloodhound took the last of the crushed beans. Crypto's drone scurried over to Gibraltar, prompting him to return the pot for another brew.
On the screen, Wraith began performing a finisher on Wattson, nearly executing her only to be cut last second by her duo in the scrim: Bloodhound.
Their dark orange-tinted glasses faced up, seemingly mesmerized. The technological tracker skipped through to every scene with Wraith on the feature. Every shot, every movement, every grenade, down, and 'kill' by Wraith overtook their senses. Admiration was the name they gave the feeling. No matter what the others said it was, the relaxation and excitement they felt in seeing or talking to the fighter amounted only to an unexplainable sense of admiration.
"Wraith is performing... very competitively for a scrim," Crypto admitted, neatly folding the filter paper as he looked up at the screen. Wraith was occupied with eliminating Pathfinder and Bangalore, Octane incapacitated.
"Greatness grasps every opportunity." Bloodhound shrugged, readjusting the towel on their head. "Or she's a workaholic. I am not one to judge."
Octane, having had to be restrained by Gibraltar to avoid a Frontier wide lawsuit, piped up. "Yoo, if we're ogling over legends, Wattson is totally super adorable."
Everyone paused to look at the man dangling about 4 inches from the ground. Even Mirage, who had been showering, had to turn the water off. "Say that again?"
Octane cocked his head to the side, confused. "Wattson is totally super adorable-- what's so hard to understand?"
Gibraltar whistled low as Caustic glared daggers. Mirage let it go, continuing his bath. "Eh. Can't say you're wrong."
Caustic took another long, judgemental sip of coffee. He chuckled to himself, then coughed. "None of you are good enough for Natalie. You, Witt are proficient at holo-technology like your mother, but an egotistical, bumbling bufoon."
"I'm pretty sure you insulted me, but I'm gonna do you a 180 and take it as a compliment instead. So, thank you.
He turned to look at Octane. "You, Silva. Enough said."
"Ice cold, man."
"Nobody, and I mean nobody is worth the distraction from science. Especially not you, hacker." Caustic sneered. The pout on his face conveyed less disdain than he intended.
Crypto, in the middle of buying a bar of chocolate from the vending machine, gave them a look. He glanced at all 3 men before snatching his candy and cautiously heading back to his seat.
"You all can gawk at her, but get with her? Ha. She is above you all."
Gibraltar opened his arms wide, dropping the hyperactive legend. Octane scurried over to Mirage's stall again, grasping above the stall to take a feel of his nice hair as Gibraltar attempted to bear hug the scientist. Caustic, ever so reflexive, swatted the arm away. Gibraltar guffawed. "So you do have emotions! Oh, wait till Ajay hears this."
The two behemoths of men begin a lighthearted argument on whether or not Caustic was showing genuine feeling, his main argument being "never to settle for enough if you are capable of doing better." Octane opted to play his handheld console beside Elliot's shower, nearly causing the man to drop the towel on his waist once he stepped out.
Bloodhound and Crypto looked on to the mess of fighters in front of them. Entertainment, was what that was. A kind of entertainment you couldn't find on a holographic screen. The techie shrugged, turning the screen off. The hunter sang to themselves, straightening their back to flex upon a cascade of marks. Rows upon rows of scars traced upwards from the small of their back all the way to their neck. Crypto instinctively leaned in closer, studying them.
The hunter turned, feeling the quizzical stare. Crypto didn't feel any pressure or fear. And Bloodhound could sense it, with the genuine curiosity plastered across his face. "Tell me a story." He pointed at a set of scars that had been overlapping each other. "About any of them."
Bloodhound grinned. They stood up and headed towards their cubicle, shrugging to the newbie. "Beat me in a round of chess, and I will tell you anything you want to know."