Have I had enough? [o, joining]

[OCTANE.]

Caustic going to sleep nearly immediately after they had settled down to wait was a fucking nightmare. He was so bored. In the Typhoon, he would have just gone for a run, try to burn off that energy curled inside him, a spring wound tight with intent to break.
In his previous life, keeping himself entertained was easy. He played on his phone a lot, keeping in contact with his agent as she planned press events and commercials, interacting with fans, doing a live, anything to quell his brains need for anything of substance. No there was no technology here, and Octane had nothing to do. He tried pulling out the grass and counting them but was boring so fucking fast. He would have dug in their bags to fins Caustic’s recorder, and listen to the mad scientists musings about his venom, but that bag was strapped to Caustic’s front and he was resting his head on it as a pillow. Octane dug in his own bag, looking for anything of substance, and found himself playing with Caustic’s scissors. He tinkered, carefully cutting at the wolf’s fur. It certainly didn’t need the treatment, but Caustic could stand to lose a few locks while Octane played with such a sharp object. He was only trimming, really.
It kept him busy enough until they arrived, and Octane dropped the scissors, pressing his fore paws to Caustic‘s side shaking him violently.

” Caustic, come on, they're here."

© LEXASPERATED