So uh... This is new. Well, not really. I remember the old days. Was doing this because I could, Sombra wasn't a meta-hero, didn't have her golden gun, y'know, the good ol' days. I'll say this now. This was half-assed. The ending was rushed, nothing made clear sense, loose ends everywhere and it felt heavily rushed. So, as I want to further improve my writing skills while also having a damn good time with this. So... Reboot, and try again. But I'm keeping Lúcioball. That's my magnum opus.

'This place is a dump.' She thought. Olivia looked down on her phone. The school looked like an intellectual wasteland, run down and rusting away. Poorly drawn penises graffitied on the wall next to the front gate and a man passed out covered in his own vomit. Hard to believe that the so-called 'Lich King' was supposedly hiding out there.

"You sure this is the right place?" She said, not looking up, scrolling through the pictures on the school's website.

"Certain. That guy I was with wasn't bullshitting me." Came the voice next to her.

"How drunk were you when you found that guy anyways?" Said a puzzled Olivia, looking down to her partner.

"I dunno. Probably six shots in." Said the raccoon, fidgeting with his sunglasses.

"How'd ya get the info offa him?"

"Got in bed with him, pulled a gun out, got the info."

"You're the worst kind of guardian, Rocket."

Rocket laughed, given how he'd become accustomed to trying to get information by any means necessary. That's what happens when you're working with Olivia 'Sombra' Colomar. Living on the run and taking jobs wherever you can. But Sombra knew what she was doing. Rocket didn't even question how they got their car, a second gen Camaro with the roof down. All he knew is that after coming out of the bar, the top of his overalls sloppily dangling over his chest, Sombra pulled in on the sidewalk and he jumped in, tonsils swimming in cheap rum. Unfortunately for him, those were his good orange overalls. Now they were covered in vomit and dried alcohol. At least he had a navy set.

"So... This place is up ahead, right?" Asked Sombra, revving the V8.

"Ten miles up ahead. I'll let ya know when to make a turn." Said Rocket, stretching his legs and resting his arms behind his head. "Think ya can turn on some music?" He said, handing Sombra a tape. She looked down at the tape, before laughing.

"Gotta love the 70's, eh?" Laughed the hacker.

"When you're stuck on a ship with this stuff on loop all day, you eventually start lovin' it."

Sombra floored it, the tires screeching as she wrestled to keep the car straight. She eased off the throttle for a bit, before slowly pressing back down on it. Rocket tried dozing off for a while, the sun beaming down on both of them. Hotel California made for a great driving song, after all.

Fox blamed Peppy for all of this. He'd signed him up for some shitty school in the middle of nowhere. He'd seemed to have forgotten that Fox was twenty-four at this point and he'd only just come back from dealing with the Aparoids, among other things. And now here he was. Walking into some run-down changing room that reeked of bodily odors. He hadn't bothered to bring any spare clothes, so he just wanted to hide out in one of the rooms and wait till the class ended, but at the same time, the thought of being stuck in a room by himself with nobody wanting to come near him was terrifying to him. He looked around for a bit, before being grabbed by the shoulder from behind.

"Well if it isn't Fox McCloud!" came the deep, sexy voice from behind.

"Wha- Wolf!" Gasped Fox, being met by the sight of his yet-to-be-confirmed-as-canon-come-on-Nintendo-boyfriend Wolf, clad only in his underwear.

"Still looking as fucking hot as ever." moaned the grey wolf, leaning in and making out with Fox for a minute.

"What're you doing here?" whimpered Fox, trying desperately to not look at the part of Wolf he'd seen so many times as of late.

"I go here. Being a wanted criminal without a second-level education is a bitch." groaned Wolf. "C'mon, I'll show you the folks." Wolf led him into one of the rooms. Normally, this would mean they would have kinky sex all night, but all it led to was a barren room with two benches and only three people that will have any proper significance in this 'story'.

"To my right is the bitch that is Lena Oxton." Said Wolf, pointing to a woman in the corner. It was Dive-Meta enthusiast Tracer, wearing her usual get up. She groaned at Wolf's remark.

"Ah go fuck yourself ya rabie-infested cunt." She snarled at him, only to be met by the sight of Fox's cute emerald eyes. "Ah hiya there!" she chirped, giving Fox an enthusiastic wave and smile.

"I fucked your mother Lena," growled Wolf, grabbing a bag and thrusting into it. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh that feels so good Wolf!" he moaned to himself. Tracer just flipped him off.

"Hey, that's my fucking bag!" came another voice. It was my main in MKX, and the guy who was canonically gay a year before Tracer was, Kung Jin!

"I don't give a fuck, Jin. This bag's gotten more action than you ever will." Said Wolf, chucking the bag past the door. Jin scowled as he went to retrieve the bag.

In the corner there sat another person, who was out of a fucking job. "Yeah, that's Daniil. He's a Russian exchange student allegedly." Said Wolf, barely noticing the Tor Rosso outcast. "So Fox, how about you and I get it on later?" he moaned, licking Fox's ear.

"I think I'd like that very much." replied Fox, rubbing Wolf's chest.

Jin stormed back into the room, fuming. "Touch my bag one more goddamn time, and I'll break your jaw, cyclops." he yelled, shoving Wolf to the ground. Unfortunately, there were no cameras rolling. Shame really. Would've made a shit ton of retweets on Twitter.

"The fuck did you say to me!?" Roared Wolf, getting up in Jin's face.

"I really have to say this slower for you to understand, don't I? Touch. My. Bag. Again. And. I'll. Break. Your. Jaw. Cy-clops." Responded Jin, pausing after every word. Wolf growled and threw a punch. However, Jin ducked and rolled out of the way. Bad news for Fox was that he was behind Jin, and barely saw Wolf's fist before he was out cold.

A/N: Listening to that 70's Smash Hits playlist on Spotify really helps me write...