| | @enccrypted
Octane squints against the blustering wind, eyes glimmering green in the eerie strobe of furious lightning forking through the clouds above. His goggles are busted, lenses shattered from the previous skirmish, but it’s a small thing in exchange for victory over the team whose deathboxes now lay scattered over Storm Point’s once peaceful beach. The gale kicks up, flings sand into his eyes, and he startles away.
“Ow, ow— you done yet, dude? We gotta go.”
Crypto’s scanning for enemies, and he’s taking his sweet time as the ring draws closer in. The storm brewing out over the water doesn’t look so pleasant either, though Octane has to admit the funnel clouds spouting tornadoes look like a fun time. He tries to keep still, bouncing on the tips of his prosthetics; ever since the hacker went batshit and drowned him in the World’s Edge sulfur pools— though much time has passed since the incident— Octane can never be sure when the typically quiet, reserved man might snap. These other killers, Caustic, Revenant, they’re predictable, easy to read, easier to manipulate. Crypto? He lives up to his secretive moniker. Which, most of the time, just makes him boring. But sometimes Octane still wakes up at night gasping for air, the touch of choking water still lingering on his skin.
Right now though, Crypto’s just annoying. Octane can’t help himself. He sighs dramatically and takes to picking through the nearest deathbox.
“By the way, did I hear Revenant call you a nerd yesterday?”
