Play Nice, Play Pharah
Chapter 1
Jamison Fawkes was shocked when he was accepted into the recalling of Overwatch. Of course, he knew he could get some kind of reward or... reimbursement for his "bravery". Some medal he could sell off for a good bit of cash to some collector, even. When he arrived via Pelican to Watchpoint Gibraltar, he watched waves crashing over rocks and pairs and groups of war heroes walking together, speaking as they traveled into the main "watchpoint" room. As the Pelican airship perched itself near a cliff close to the base, the door lowered as a ramp to exit. Fawkes and his silent partner, Roadhog, exited, the latter taking in the area.
As the pair arrive near the main base, with the PA system around the base calling for all heroes to assemble in the main meeting room, Jamison hears the sound of jets. He turns to see this shiny hunk of metal in the shape of a person soaring through the air before, perching at a ledge and using some form of rocket to push herself towards the base at high speeds. The figure lands on one knee, standing and removing its helm, reminiscent of a blue hawk. Jamison stands in awe of this beautiful, explosive THING, although apprehensive of it being an omnic...until seeing a stunning, tan-skinmed woman with raven hair uneunder the helm. He can hardly contain his admiration and excitement, until he is shoved by his partner towards the building with an annoyed grunt from the beastly man. Reluctantly, Junkrat heads inside with a sneer, following the woman in, watching the sway of her hips, the attentive, military posture and strut. Fawkes had yet to even glimpse at the face of this shimmering, sapphire-coated goddess before him. Of course, with his nature, he tended to blow things like his emotions and experiences out of proportion in reaction.
Within the walls of the meeting room, dozens of heroes, old and new, sat at the stairs, the meeting table, or stood against walls or wherever they could. Winston, the mighty [scientist] with a mind as strong as him, stood at the top of the room, at the second floor of the building. This fierce creature the junker familiarized himself with almost all physicalities of, within her suit, jetted onto a tire Winston had set up for himself, standing on it and holding the rope. The shadows of the room still hid herface from the impatient man. As Winston began to speak, Hog listened in as Jamison fawned over the shining lady from a distance, sitting at a table with his head in his hands.
Once the meetig was called to a close, all members were called to receive their bed numbers, for the bunker beneath the base where all the crew would have to sleep. Jamison was hoisted by his piggy friend roughly and carried under his arm, the bed number in the other thick hand of the man. the woman dismounted the tire and Junkrat frantically squirmed to see her face, only to be blocked by the meaty arm of Hog. Yelling at the hefty man with no response, he was taken to the men's barracks and sat down on his bed, where all of his dirty, smoky, musty equipment was unloaded from the Pelican. Hog's bed was next to Rat's, beside it were crates of shrapnel and metal scraps, ammunition for Hog's gun. Junkrat had his crates of bombs, encased in fancy metal boxes (or, ballistic cases) courtesy of Overwatch, mainly given due to safety precautions.
"Why didya rip me outta there?!" squawked the stickly Aussie, with heavy agitation. "That sheila was practically callin' my name! 'Oohh Jamie, Jamie come blow up my ass like it ain't a soul's business, ah got pretty haaaair!'," He bitched and whined to Roadhog's uncaring stare. "Don't," the man huffed. "DON'T WHAT, GO AFTER SOME SEXY BITCH BLOWIN' HER ARSE ALL CROSS THE BASE AND WALKING LIKE SHE OWNS THE PLACE?! She's practically made for me but if you insist fine, I won't go after her just yet. I'll be noice and subtle. Then I'll fuck the shit outta her. Don't women like that kinda thing anyway? GREAT IDEA ROADIE, KNEW OI COULD COUNT ON YOU!". At the resolve, Roadhog stared at him, not another word, knowing that Rat would resolve his inner quarrels himself.
Later that evening, Jamison heard distant explosions a good distance from the edge of the base. He walked out, unbeknownst to Mako, and out the back of the base. The woman zipping through the air behind the base and over the sunset sea, training bots soaring around 50-100 meters from her. She held a heavy rocket launcher, blasting away every one without fail. Next thing, when she had landed, he decided to be suave, standing with a dandelion in his teeth at his insane 7' foot stature. Rat leaned himself up against a wall, right in front of her. He smelled of gasoline and burnt rubber, like a run down yet busy petrol station. "The namesh Jamishon Fawksh," The man purred at her through his teeth and past the foul taste of dirty flower stem. The woman rolled her eyes behind her visor, removing her helmet, faking a smile. Jamie gawked and dropped the flower from his mouth in surprise. Catching it quickly, he held it to the woman. "My name is Fareeha Amari. It's nice to meet another one of our...soldiers..." attempting at her niceties and taking the flower underneath the head of it, where it wasn't tainted with unwashed spittle." The Rat chuckled his crazy, high pitched giggle and attempted to contain it to be smooth. He slicked his hair back with the grease of his metal hand, holding his real one out to her to shake at the least. "On shauntay, Fareeha!" Junkrat butchered the French word with a hefty accent. "Yes, well, it was very nice meeting you, I need to head to my barracks." Pharah quickly responded, curtly shaking the dirty hand, "The showers are over there if you need them, I've heard you dont have much running water in Junkertown." He knew he didnt need any showers, he had a very protective layer of filth. Maybe it was a sign she wanted him clean? Girls like frilly smellin' things don't they? Well, it was up for consideration. For now, he would focus on the unrivaled beauty of his new favorite...anything. He truly adored this Fareeha, although mostly physical...well, completely physical. She walked away quickly, in that same stride she had earlier, and he watched her ass. Lovingly. Probably lovingly. Jamison didn't quite care and headed off to the showers.
