03-11-2020, 12:51 PM
/ 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?"
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?"
![[Image: Tiny_Pixel_Octane.png]](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/420775002091028481/716860912790929508/Tiny_Pixel_Octane.png){kind=tracking}
Run fast. Hit fast. Win fast.
( [color=black][b]✌ ━━━━━ octane / tanglewood / pixel by kinglykingstone )[/b]
( [color=black][b]✌ ━━━━━ octane / tanglewood / pixel by kinglykingstone )[/b]