/ retro to injuries

Octane had been injured many times before. Becoming a Legend was a price of two parts- the agreement to have your body scanned, cloned, and killed for the foreseeable future, and to have your memories updated with each death. Injuries didn't matter when you could pop into a new body or simply whisk it all away with a few syringes. His brain was twisted, poisoned by his upbringing and rotted out by adrenaline. Octane could remember times when half his jaw was blown off, or leaking blood from bullet wounds, laughing, and his teammates begging him to quit joking around and heal up. Danger was adrenaline, and adrenaline was a rush that led to his own demise or the sweet victory of YOU ARE THE CHAMPION flashing across the arena screens. His donations were always higher when he won, an added bonus.
The pain from his shoulder was finally starting to wear away at least, then he could resume his runs and keep going. Octane agreed with Caustic on one thing about this dimension- the lack of technology was an obstacle and it was getting in the way of him having any actual fun. He couldn't jump off a cliff without maybe considering the downfalls.

Octane never planned to have children, or marry, for that matter. His life was too fast. Having a child implied he was settling down and he just didn't.... want to do that. He never had such conversations with Caustic, either. It was mutually understood that they were lab partners, they fulfilled each other's needs as equals, and that they would never be anything more. Octane's interests were too far out of the norm for a more emotionally available partner, and he was fine with that. Their bond was horrifying on all accounts, but it was theirs.

He never understood Goldenluxury, either. Octane didn't know anyone here that well and he briefly wondered if it would stay that way. From the times he had seen her, though, she looked tired. She looked too heavy and as if too much was on her shoulders. Octane understood that expression, at least, overworking yourself and being tired. So, he made the move to approach, his metal legs kicking up sand and coming to a stop near the captain, pulling his mask and goggles away as drops of rain began to fall. 
"Hey, amiga," He was so bad at talking why was he so bad- "Woke up sore this morning or something?"

Michael had always been a male who put on masks, and covers. He knew what it was like to hide yourself behind physical things, or to believe that the power you possessed came from your possessions. Perhaps that was because of how much his various gathered items meant to him. After all, as a child he had been hated. He had been denied even the most basic of necessities. So, after he had escaped from his unpleasant childhood, he had gone out and gotten his paws on every damm thing that he could find. Every scrap of food, every piece of jewelry, every interesting thing that he wanted, he took. Nowadays, he considered his various pieces of shimmering gold and silver jewelry to be his armor. These pieces not only signified how much he had grown, but also how much he had taken, and how much he had fought. Every piece of jewelry was another accomplishment, and they gave him a sense of confidence and comfort, much like Goldie's earring had given her for so long. He, above all people, could definitely understand what the captain was feeling, not that he would voice this. After all, despite his closeness with Roxie, he wasn't officially a member of the Roux family, and didn't yet feel comfortable enough to talk to Goldie in a more personal and less professional way. He considered her to be more like the various acquaintances in thievery he had in the past, rather than a close relationship like Roxie or Trevor.

Michael generally didn't like the rain, often feeling it sink down into his thick fluff and weigh him down, making him wet and miserable for the rest of the day. However, the scent of the daytime rain mixed with the usual salty scent of the sea was actually quite comforting, and the bobcat had found himself emerging from his home, quickly closing the door behind him before any of Trevor's moths could find their way fluttering out. Taking a few steps down from his porch, the dark furred male was surprised to see not only his sister figure down on the beach in the rain, but also Octane and none other than Goldie herself. He hesitated for a moment before he made his way over, his ears briefly flattening as he walked out into the rain, trotting up to Roxie's side and gently brushing his pelt against hers in greeting. Plopping himself down carefully in the sand, the fugitive glanced to the side for a long moment before he spoke, his voice a bit hoarse and hesitant, "Hey guys... enjoyin' the rain, are we all?" He looked up at the dark clouds above them all, wincing when a few drops of rain fell in his blue gaze.