The crowd bustled together into a rowdy conglomerate, the air thick with the sweet smell of sweat and gasoline. Jamison was fortunate to be one of the taller, skinnier junkers, and so was able to weasel his way to the front of the crowd with relative ease.
In stands that were much too tall and steep to be safe, hundreds of people sardined themselves to circle a dusty pit. The layout was akin to the gladiator stadiums of ancient Rome that Jamison had once read about in a stolen book ... That is, if the stadium had been beaten unrecognisable with a rusty pipe to become the unholy, apocalyptic sight that now loomed before him. He tilted his head to take it all in.
Jamison’s attention diverted when the crowd roared, however, and he craned his head over the edge of the precarious railing to see what was happening.
Two Junkertown mechs stood across from each other on opposite sides of the pit, but Jamison was too high up to make out who the pilots were. A commanding, prickly voice boomed out over the speakers of the stadium: it was the queen of Junkertown.
❛ Alright, you filthy animals! We all know why we’re here. Place your last bets on who you think today’s mech fighter winner will be: Bonesaw, or D.va! ❜
The crowd cheered over the sound of the loudspeakers before the queen’s voice overrode them once more.
❛ You know the drill: no jumping into the pit or I‘ll have your bloody heads! Now ... MAY THE BEST PILOT WIN !! ❜
The atmosphere was electric, and Jamison could feel his extremities buzz. Mech battles were probably the most exciting events to happen in Junkertown, and they’d attract junkers both from in and outside the city walls. Jamison adored the battles almost as much as he’d adore blowing up the machines himself.
The fight was as thrilling as it always was, and there were multiple times when Jamison was sure he was at threat of falling over the railing into the pit due to the rowdy crowd. He didn’t, but when the pilot of the winning mech got out to take in the cheers of the crowd, he very nearly did.
A young woman, probably no older than twenty, was crowned the mech battling champion. She waved to the crowd with an excitable grace that contrasted against the beaten up mecha behind her. It made Jamison’s heart flutter.
After D.va was handed her makeshift medal and sum of award money, the crowd began to disperse. Not Jamison, though. He could see D.va making her way towards the exit as mechanics saw to her injured mech that lay with its rival in the centre of the pit.
Jamison wasted no time in jumping down through the stands, seeking to get the mech pilot’s attention. It was a precarious effort: at best, he got down and was able to stop the girl before she slipped away from his sight, and at worst he slipped and then fell down from the stands, maybe to his death.
❛ Oi !! ❜ Jamison called out, clumsily trying to weave his way down despite his ungainly peg-leg. ❛ Wait up !! ❜
