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vernoncallum45852 · 4 years

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HOME SAFE

Ever considered purchasing a home safe? Buying a safe for your home, office, or business bodes well in the event that you have resources that you need to ensure. For example, your significant other may have bunches of gems you need to store in a home safe or you might need to keep cash, gold, business archives, or family legacies safe from likely hoodlums. One of the most widely recognized kinds of home safes are those for weapons and guns. Picking the correct safe for your home or business isn't that simple since there are endless assortments and highlights you can pick.

We propose that you initially choose what it is that you will store in the safe so way you can decide the best possible size you'll require. A few safes are incorporated with dividers or floors, so you'll have to consider a room that could oblige that style on the off chance that you so pick. What highlights do you need in your safe? Continue perusing beneath to see our purchasing guide.

Purchasing Guide - There are 4 fundamental kinds of safes - divider safes, firearm safes, in-floor safes, and general safes. For most property holders, an essential safe is all you need since they are worked to secure your assets and can be found anyplace in your home. Attempt to discover one that is weighty enough that if a looter were to go into your home and attempt to pull off it, the weight may deflect them from attempting to divert it.

A divider safe is the most ideal decision for those that need to conceal the safe from any expected cheat. Divider safes can be introduced effectively in homes or organizations and they can be put in cement or wood dividers. To conceal the divider sheltered, simply spread it with a mirror or picture and immediately you have a shrouded safe. Divider safes arrive in an assortment of profundities, so ensure your divider space can deal with the model you pick. Weapon safes are enthusiastically suggested for any individual who claims guns.

Protect your firearms and guns from youngsters and outsiders who may be interested. In-floor safes are an inventive method to store and secure your resources. The protected will be introduced directly into your floor and lowered beneath the floor level. Cupboards or carpets are the ideal method of masking the area of an in-floor safe. The locking systems on safes are offered in 3 different ways - key locks, electronic locks, or mix locks. Key locks are the most essential and presumably all you need by and large.

Keep an additional arrangement of keys around on the off chance that you lose the main set and never store the protected keys close to the safe. Blend secures are preferable terms of security over key locks since it is workable for somebody to pick a key lock. Mix bolts typically expect you to turn a dial and enter 3 or 4 numbers so as to open the safe. You can get a safe with both a key lock and mix lock joined. Electronic locks on safes are the best (other than unique mark bolts) and work incredible if more than one individual will get to the safe. Fireproof safes are unquestionably the best approach if there should be an occurrence of a fire.

Remember that the protection materials will contrast ablaze safe safes relying upon the substance you will store. Effect safe safes are additionally accessible on the off chance that your safe has something fall on it. Water obstruction is another element to consider when taking a gander at safes. If there should arise an occurrence of a flood or a fire (the firemen will dowse the flares with water), you would need a protected that opposes water or fluids.

The top brands in home safes are American Lock, Cannon Safes, Fire Fyter, FireKing, Gardall Safes, Gun Vault, Honeywell, MasterLock, Schwab, and Sentry. We went online to locate the most mainstream and top of the line home safes available. Costs extend from around $100 to $1300 for quality home safes. They don't convey the enormous, weighty safes, however they convey an assortment of littler models, including numerous Honeywells. You can peruse their rundown of smash hit safes here.

Protex is one of the principle provider of safes for lodgings, inns, and sports clubs. You have likely observed one of their safes in a lodging or utilized one yourself. The Protex HD-100 Burglary Safe ($1000) is the ideal home safe with 5 dynamic chrome locking fasteners, 30 minutes of fire assurance, a velvet lined inside (shield gems from scratching), and an electronic keypad for speedy programming and access.

The Protex accompanies pre-penetrated grapple gaps at the base in the event that you need to join this beast to your floor, yet at 256 pounds it isn't essential. Just a unimaginably solid or clever hoodlum will make it out of your home with safe. The strong steel plated entryway is 5/16" thick and the inside proposals more than 5 cu. ft. limit. There are 4 inside racks so you can arrange your significant at any rate you like. Protex makes home security safes in all sizes and they give dial mix locks, electronic bolts, and unique mark locks for the most noteworthy security conceivable.

You can see a greater amount of their line of items online. Proprietors state they are anything but difficult to utilize and hold cash, coins, gems, and all-size documents.Wall safes, as in-floor safes are a significant responsibility relying upon where you put them. A story safe should consistently be secured and a divider safe once put into a divider will watch off-kilter whenever taken out. Something else to consider is the manner by which profound you will require your divider safe to be.

Not all dividers will stretch out back far enough, so you may require a protected that is taller as opposed to being profound. At last, an inherent divider safe ought to have a mirror, picture or household item before it to help cover its area. To introduce a divider safe you need to cut a gap in the divider between studs, at that point embed the safe and jolt it into the studs from within - there must be sufficient space behind the divider for it to fit, so a divider that backs to shut off loft space or something works best, however many smaller models are intended to fit into simply the few creeps of room in a standard divider.

The Honeywell - Digital Anti-Theft Safe ($89) is a mind blowing worth and offers more than 1 cubic feet of room. The Honeywell divider safe is basically robber safe with a re-programmable computerized electronic locking system. Strong steel development, covered pivots, protected dividers make this an all around fabricated divider safe that is a top merchant on a few sites. Requires both a key and mix to open it for twofold assurance. Extraordinary spot to store your gems, significant reports, or cash.

The LockState 52EN-BWS Large Wall Safe ($180) is intended for business just as home use. It's very nearly 3 1/2 inches down and will hold every one of your resources. LockState safes are substantial in development and have fantastic dependability records. Highlights electronic computerized lock, 1 ace code (3 to 8 digits), hoodlum safe strong steel packaging, and simple to introduce mounting equipment that is incorporated with the safe.

There is not any more significant motivation to possess a safe than if you have a firearm. Safes intended to hold guns will spare lives. We hear stories on the news all the time where a youngster went into their folks firearm cabinet and pulled out a gun just to incidentally fire their companion or kin. These are silly passings that can be maintained a strategic distance from if weapon proprietors would basic purchase a weapon safe and store every one of their guns in it (bolted obviously).

The measure of weapons you have to place into your firearm safe will no doubt figure out what size you get. With just a solitary hand firearm in the house, consider the Mini-Vault Deluxe Quick Access Gunsafe ($150) from GunVault. Keypad passage (even in obscurity), movement sensor caution and inside light. On the off chance that you have various weapons the Stack - On 10 - Gun Safe with Combination Lock ($330) might be the arrangement.

Holds up to 10 rifles or shotguns and highlights a 3 number blend lock with a strong steel, pry safe entryway. Stack On is a legitimate firearm safe producer and this model gets superb surveys from weapon proprietors posting commments on the web. Customers call the sheltered "solid" and "ideal for putting away guns". Suggested - We propose perusing the top of the line weapon safes here.

An in-floor safe is extraordinary for those hoping to make their safe imperceptible to thieves and thiefs. Simple to cover up under rug or furniture, the floor safe will secure your advantages. Once more, size is a basic factor in determing the expense. You can get a Gardall - Square Tube In-Floor Safe for $275 and comes in little or medium sizes. The pyramid shape lets you secure it to the floor pleasantly and the entryway has no depend on it.

Your lock alternatives incorporate a mechanical blend lock or an electronic punch-buttom lock. The Cobalt FS-B In-Floor Safe ($500) is more pleasant than the Gardall and offers more inside room (7" x 11" entryway freedom). The entryway is 1/2 strong steel and the body is 1/4" strong steel. Accompanies a mix lock, spring stacked entryway, and gauges a strong 113 pounds. Floor safes are incredible for littler things, however infrequently will you see an in-floor safe that will hold huge assets (they're simply not advantageous). View all top of the line floor safes here.

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sliptohk · 7 years

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Safe Harbor

Even in daylight the climb would have been daunting, the craggy surface proving a devious foe as stone and earth crumbled away beneath each tentative jab of the miqo'te's daggers. Breath came hard, but masked by the crashing waves battering the small skiff up against the rock wall. A fatal drop for certain, either drowned by the sea or dashed upon the stone.

L'tohk found it best not to dwell on it, focusing instead on clambering upward while the moonless night masked them from prying eyes. Reaching up, she slammed the thick, heavy blade into a new position, only to lean back as soil was knocked free, showering her with earth as she pressed tightly against the rocks. Her corded muscle quivered from the awkward angle, but she held firm until the flow abated and she managed to find a new, steady hold for her weapon. Taking a moment to roll her shoulder, she continued onward, nearing the top as her pace slowed. The urge to power through the last dozen yalms was strong, but it was not the time to grow careless as the rock gave way to thicker clods of soil. Plummeting several hundred down held no appeal.

Cautiously, her head rose above the edge of the cliff side, peering about for any sentries prowling about. No scent lingered upon the wind and no sound alerted her, encouraging her to slither to her belly as pleasant warmth flowed through her tingling limbs. A pleasant sensation and a fine way to limber up before the work ahead. Reaching for the heavy rope tied tightly across her chest, she made her way over toward a sturdy tree, looping the trunk to knot it firmly before tossing the coil over the edge to those securing the boat below.

Five others came up, hand over hand, lead by Garth who threw her a wink, "Thanks fer gettin' th' door, lass."

Grunting in response, the Seeker fell in behind them, following the faint glow in the distance as their squad took up positions peering down upon the sheltered cover beneath. It was long since secured, the dubious code among the many pirate crews ensuring such hideouts were kept throughout the Rhotano, and further enforced with each passing year. At least before the accords gave those willing crews the chance at legitimacy, as well as an open invitation to pay back the slights, both real and imagined, they had suffered at the hands of their thieving kin. Still, some fools that had spurned the Admiral and her offer sought familiar harbors rather than safe ones. Easy marks for the newly made privateers.

Captain Chevlymn was one such buffoon, practically spitting in the face of her crew as he sat smugly in the cozy cove they had once used extensively. Drinking their rum and devouring their rations. An unforgivable show of disrespect.

There was no need to issue orders, the lot having already been thoroughly instructed by the first mate before they embarked on the mission. Garth took off, trailing the sleek shadow of a mousey haired Hyur, Jessimum, in his wake. Twin Elezen split in the opposite direction, Aphoix and Karault, each set heading for the squat buildings on each side of the heavy oaken doors barring entry to the cove. It was a simple set up, but effective. The gate serving as a strong deterrent, made even more challenging by the heavy iron chain set in place across the mouth of the cave. A problem for those four, as L'tohk thumped a fist on Cacawi's shoulder, slipping and sliding toward the grouped buildings lit merrily in the darkness. The lalafell followed as best he could as the two picked their way down toward their goal.

Her thighs burned from the descent, greater effort expended to keep from fumbling carelessly through underbrush and scree, as she followed the narrow walking trails that wove back and forth against the backside of the small island. Chevlymn had been overconfident in the natural defenses, the underbrush left to grow wild and no guards set to patrol the overhang. Granted, it had been far from an easy incursion, the skiff very nearly shattering itself on the rocks a handful of times, but it was a mistake her own captain would never have made.

She shook off the thoughts, nothing but distractions from the task at hand. Bending low, far easier for her lalafell companion, the miqo'te moved alongside the nearest building with ears perked attentively. The enemy shouted and drank, carousing loud enough to narrow their awareness of the world to that single building. A fierce smirk crossed her face as they moved onward, weaving about the back of the building until the sight of their target came into view. The Rhotano Queen, an ugly ship compared to the Dancer. Exchanging a glance with Cacawi, the seeker slipped out from cover to dance around the outside of the circle of lantern light. An ear flicked as she swore she heard a shout from the distance, but the noise echoing out from the buildings did not change in pitch so she gave it no mind.

Keeping the lead, she loped up the gangplank on soundless feet, a faint disquiet growing within as boots separated her from the welcome embrace of the planks. Lanterns hung about the deck, exposing the two as they hunched over beyond the rail and broke for the hold. The door to the lower deck caught, drawing a whispered curse from L'tohk who quickly slipped to the side to keep careful watch as the lalafell fell to work on the lock. It was a terrible feeling, even a careless glance out the windows would reveal them. Sweat trickled down her back as the seconds stretched into hours to her senses. The welcome click of the lock signaled her to move, slipping into the hold and yanking the door back into place.

A moment too late.

Cacawi noticed it first, his ears sharper than her own, "With haste, with haste! They've seen!"

"Go! Gotcher back, mate!"

Bounding to the bottom of the stairs, they turned a tight corner through a second doorway into the bowels of the ship. Slamming the reinforced door shut, the newly christened privateer grabbed anything she could manage. A few racks of tools hung nearby, snatching free a hammer and wood chisels which she began to pound into the planks beneath the door frame and around the edges to seal the entrance as tightly as possible. The slap of many feet on the decks above drew her eyes up, stepping back as she pulled free a pair of long blades from her waist.

"Fin' it?"

"Salubrious fortune! Gunpowder in abundance!"

She blinked, before nodding slowly, "At's goo' righ'? Get t'it afore m'swimmin' in 'em!"

The thud of slamming wood dragged her attention away from the mysteries of vocabulary as she tucked a shoulder and braced it against the door. A shudder rocked her body as heavy bodies began to pound against the other side, shaking the frame itself as wood popped and split with each impact slowly knocking free the chisels straining to hold back the enemy. Even through the wood the scent of alcohol was strong, a heartening thought to the young sailor as the flimsy barrier began to splinter under the blow of heavy axes. One blow snapped through, the head of the weapon wrenching back and forth before it finally dislodged from the splintering barricade. Shifting backward, L'tohk waited for the inevitable.

"'ow much time?"

"Mere minutes, the fuse is lit, my dear! Make haste!" Hopping up to one of the gun ports, he wriggled through to peer about the open water of the cove. "Freedom calls! Ah, such a sweet siren's song!"

With that last call, he leapt to the water beneath. The seeker blinked, reaching out but far too slow to stop him, "Minutes'r too swivin' long ya daft shite!"

The door snapped, chunks of frame breaking free to scatter across the hold as the axe-man stepped through. Red in the face from effort and alcohol, he focused wavering vision on the lone intruder before him. His bulk filled the entrance, granting her a welcome delay to the inevitable swarm to come.

"Just one? What'r ya, dumb'r summat?" His speech came slow as he hefted the weapon, stepping forward to whip it toward her.

The nimble fighter danced back as the roegadyn over-swung, smashing into the carpentry bench as it split in half to send nails and screws across the floor in a tinkling hail of metal. For once she was grateful for those boots as she danced in and lashed out at him. Jabbing and slashing, she focused more on keeping him busy, and unmoving, while Cacawi's work played out behind her. For the moment he was cooperative, arms raising slowly to block a knife, and shifting awkwardly in his drunken state. A few complaints ground out from him, but the reprieve was far too short for her taste.

"Jus' charge 'er, Ox! Get outta th' way!"

Steel sang through the air as her efforts doubled, but it failed to stop him as he accepted those wounds. A brawny shoulder lowered in a bull-rush, forcing her to swing wide and close quickly with the next man to push into the room. A difficult maneuver given the boarding pike that thrust back. Slapping away the tip with a backhand, she skipped free once more, growling low in her throat before a bellow drew her attention in time to duck the wild swing from the roegadyn. Another spilled into the room while she struggled, drawing another curse at her dwindling odds. Options limited, L'tohk ran through the hold, eyes lighting on the burning bundle nestled between barrels of powder.

Her throat ran dry as she gauged the remaining fuse. Far too long. Thrusting one knife forward through the stave joint, she twisted hard to spill the black substance across the floor, catching and sparking as it showered the flame. The decision nearly cost her life as the enemy crew closed on her, more than she could hope to defeat as they closed. A third time that axe swung for her midsection. Bending at her knees, she threw herself backward, body near perfectly parallel to the deck as the heavy axe head swung mere ilms above her face. Snapping her back like a whip back up to a standing position, she sprinted as the pop and snap of igniting powder sounded behind her, filling her nose with the scent. Screams of alarm were a welcome sound as the drunken crew-members spotted the impending disaster and turned to flee the hold, save for the one lumbering Roegadyn that pursued her. Breaking for the furthest escape, she kicked the hatch free from a gun port and tried to struggle through only for a meaty hand to slap down on her shoulder.

In a barely contained panic, she barked, "Y'damned fool, 'at shite's gonna 'splode!"

It gave him pause, but his hand didn't move. So she sank her teeth into a finger and ground hard. A pained scream followed as he withdrew, and she sprang out toward the shoreline only to feel the back of her jacket ignite with a sudden whoomph of the explosion rocking the ship behind her. Burning cloth and hair filled her nostrils as she hit the shallows hard, mercifully quenching the flames as she powered through to the muddy shore with high strides while her ears rung deafeningly loud. Jerking her head about set her mind spinning, but the crowd of pirates fleeing down the gangplank was enough encouragement for her to reverse the grip on her knives and sprint off for the nearest building. They were mad. Panicked. Hopefully they would give wild chase rather than think to check the gatehouses.

Looking back, she saw several hurl their pikes, forcing her to abruptly break to one side as they thumped soundlessly down into the sand where she had once stood. Unwilling to give them a second chance, she ran directly toward one of the windows, leaping high and tucking her body to smash through, crashing hard against the table inside. It sent up a spray of food and spirits as it flipped, but she dared not stop, continuing her mad dash to bound off a chair and burst out the other side among the underbrush.

Pursuit was dogged, long legs surpassing her stride as angry men and women followed around the side of the building. Ducking her head down, L'tohk tore off once more with a spray of sand, shooting the occasional look toward the burning ship spewing black smoke and the opening gates across the cove. The Dancer coming in proudly as Garth and the others did their part. The sight gave her a burst of energy, speeding toward the nearest gatehouse, while Chevlymn's crew gradually decided not to run toward the imposing sight. Her speed dwindled until she stumbled the last dozen yalms to the building, falling to hands and knees in the wet sands with panting breaths. Grumbling, she turned to flop down and watch the scene they'd caused, the light of the burning ship giving more than enough vision of what transpired, even as smaller pockets of gunpowder caught and detonated, forcing the ship to list. On the burning deck, a lone figure rose up with hair smoldering and clothing charred to ash. Leaping down to the waters with a huge splash, they lumbered to shore, axe still hoisted over one shoulder.

Looking on incredulously, L'tohk muttered, "Izzis a dream?"

#backstory #ic writing

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build-em-up · 7 years

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🔨

Script is held in hand and while gaze slide across words on the page he can feel eyes rolling in their sockets at the absurdity of it. Pages and pages of absolute drivel generalizing their everyday battles, fashioning them such theatrical flair that it could only be the work of the long since buried spindly Director. While the title of the thick manuscript may read ‘Rule Guide’ it was little more than promotional nonsense for the future predecessors somehow made even more ridiculous. Rule guide. As if this endless war came so neat and tidy as to come with a set of solid rules. Retirement was a long shot away, a stretch that seemed too far out of sight yet here they were called to a ceasefire to film… this. What to do when coming face to face with a rival teammate in the future and the consequences of friendship.

He hardly represses a scoff, glancing at the prop to the side a cardboard sentry.

The camera was set up across from the pair a light harshly blinking red recording the two (though he wondered if it was really Her watching them even now). The Engineer shuffles weight from one foot to the other setting sheet aside then to kin. His voice is flat, plastic and he lifts a hand heavily.

“Howdy, y’all it’s me th’ BLU Engineer rootin…” A sigh. No one in Texas spoke like this he can feel visage closing in a grimace, “tootin’ gun hootin’ problem wrangler of th’ West. Yee haw! Figure I’ll go make some friends, y’all… there’s a RED right there! Well Howdy–doo.”

In the most ridiculous and stereotypical way he moseys to Doll feeling more and more ridiculous each passing second. He lowers his voice to a whisper when he’s near, “Alright Doll, y’know what happens next?”Traitorous BLU gets punched by dashing RED.

#southernfriedengie #Don't sass me | IC |#Ain't gonna solve itself |ASKS|#((punch ur enemies a tutorial

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lesbrarians · 8 years

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Junkrat/Roadhog:: Origins Ch. 16

This is the penultimate chapter! The final chapter should be posted sometime on Monday night. I feel that I should warn you guys about this chapter, tho -- there is a scene that, while it is consensual, cannnn be read as dubcon so proceed with caution if that's something that disturbs you (I promise it turns out fine, if that helps)!

Title: Origins

Characters: Junkrat, Roadhog

Rating: R

Summary: The origins of Junkrat and Roadhog. Junkrat finds a mysterious treasure in the nuclear wasteland of the Australian Outback and quickly finds himself a target. When a hitman is sent to kill him, he convinces the man to become his personal bodyguard in exchange for half the spoils. Their ensuing crime spree could be legendary – if they can get over the initial bad blood between them. Can also be found on AO3 if you prefer reading it there!

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen

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For the first time since arriving at prison, Junkrat felt at ease. Beginning work on his new bombs relaxed him. Home was where he could build explosives, after all.

He twisted off one of the metal fingers on his mechanical arm to expose the screwdriver beneath it. He’d added screwdriver heads to the last joints of his internal skeleton for added functionality, and it was proving incredibly useful when he was without his usual tools. He unscrewed the back of the radio and selected the wires that he would attach to one of his D batteries before screwing it back together. He went back to grinding the flammable powder off of the match heads. He’d converted the pipe into a container by fixing a scrap of blanket around one end with a piece of elastic from the wristband of his jumpsuit.

“Po-lice!” the block’s sentry shouted from his cell, and he hissed, stuffing his supplies in an empty cereal box. He really needed a better hiding spot, but hopefully he would be out of the joint before it became a necessity.

The footsteps of the correctional officer stopped outside his cell. “Fawkes! You’ve got a visitor.”

Confused, Junkrat turned to Thatcher, then pointed at his own chest. “What, me?”

“Who the fuck else? Is there anyone else by that name in this cell that I should know about? Hands out.”

The door to his cell slid open, and Junkrat dutifully let himself be shackled and led to the visiting room. It resembled a metal box, with a sheet of glass separating inmates from the visiting party. Ava was sitting at the desk that straddled both sides of the room. Junkrat sat down on his side and picked up the phone to speak with her through the glass.

“Doc? Why ya visitin’ me -- not that I’m complainin’, but I woulda thought you’d visit Roadhog first.”

“Yeah, I asked for him, but get this, they said I’m not on his list of approved visitors! I told them they could go stuff it, but they wouldn’t budge, so here I am.”

Junkrat blinked at her. “What, do they know the both of ya were in the Australian Liberation Front?”

Ava gave a delicate shrug. “Beats me. Either they have a bone to pick with him, or they know we have a shady history together and don’t want me seeing him. So I’m here to visit my good friend Junkrat instead! Thought you might want to talk to someone on the outside after, you know, losing everything you worked for.”

“Yeah, about that--” Junkrat started, then paused as Ava’s eyes darted upward. He followed her gaze to the security camera fixated on them. Ava tapped the side of her nose with her finger. Junkrat had no idea what the gesture signified. He carried on, being mindful of his words now that he realized that they were being recorded. “What they do with all my shit anyway?”

“Evidence, probably,” Ava said. “Last I heard, there was a big storage unit in their impound lot where they keep the big guns.”

“Impound lot?” Junkrat repeated. He’d never heard the term before in the Outback, but it sounded significant.

“Yeah, where they keep all the vehicles they confiscate from people like you.”

This got Junkrat’s attention. “So what, would Roadhog’s bike be there?”

“Probably.”

“So ya can’t take it then? Even though yer practically his next of kin and all.”

Ava’s eyes twinkled. “I would if I legally could, but the police wouldn’t like that. It doesn’t work that way and is, in fact, frowned upon in this establishment.”

Junkrat grinned at her through the glass barrier. “I see,” he said knowingly. If he was reading the room right, he had the impression that she would get it back for the two of them. “So if we were to ever get outta this shithole someday, we wouldn’t be able to get it back?”

“Probably not. But you’re in here for life, remember? I don’t think Judge Knowles would have mercy on you. So you’re just gonna have to get used to life on the inside without your bike. Sorry, pal.”

“Eh, I’ll get used to it. Maybe.”

They chatted idly about their life partners, both romantic and criminal, until the CO banged on the door and announced that their visitation time was almost up.

“So, when am I gonna see you again?” Ava propped her chin on her hand and winked. “Let’s talk plans.”

Junkrat considered the amount of time he needed to finish cobbling together his varied weapons. “Two weeks, maybe? Let’s aim for the thirtieth.”

“I’ll see you then.” Ava placed her hand on the glass, and Junkrat mirrored her. It was like they were shaking hands, sharing a secret plan.

It had been a good talk, but after the stress of trying to carefully communicate plans without being explicit, Junkrat needed a drink. The closest thing he had was coffee, so when he got back to his cell, he heated up some water in the microwave and made himself a mug of instant coffee, immediately followed by another, then one more for good measure. If he could finish the canister soon, he could make good use of it.

He was practically vibrating by the time their recreational hour rolled around. He’d had coffee maybe once or twice in his life, and he hadn’t realized how wonderful it was. Even this instant mess tasted delicious to him. Maybe when he got out, he’d get some real coffee from a real place. He’d heard flat whites were top notch.

He bolted out of the cell when the doors slid open, full of jittery energy. “Roadhog!” he shouted when he caught sight of him. “My tubby friend!” He slung an arm around Roadhog’s waist and poked his tattoo. For the first time, Roadhog actually didn’t hit him as a result, a fact which delighted him. “Mate, I’m fuckin’ wired, didya know coffee was so good? Y’ve been holdin’ out on me, I coulda been havin’ coffee at those fine dining establishments we went to on the outs!”

Roadhog looked down at him. “Who gave you coffee?”

Junkrat laughed and pointed at himself. “Me! I gave me coffee!”

“Can you also take it from you?”

“Now, why would I go and do a daft thing like that? I bought it, fair and square, I should get to drink it! I mean, I had to buy it, it woulda been suss if I just got the creamer by itself. Didya know you can set coffee creamer on fire? All that powdered fat? Massively flammable!”

“Lower your voice.” Roadhog shook his head. Junkrat continued nattering away about his grandiose plans until Roadhog finally interrupted, “How was Ava?”

Junkrat forced himself to stop grinning maniacally and sober up a little. “Good, best as I could tell. She wanted to see ya but they wouldn’t let her.”

Roadhog sighed. “I figured. They probably suspect she was my partner back in the day.”

Junkrat knew the term didn’t have to be romantic -- he’d quipped that his cellie was supposed to be his life partner -- but after hearing Ava refer to her wife as her partner, the phrasing piqued his curiosity. “What kinda partner?” he asked.

Roadhog tilted his head at him. “In crime,” he clarified, stating it as if it was perfectly obvious. “Neither of us could be interested in anything more.”

“Ah.” Junkrat considered the implications of this statement and found that he liked them. It made it easier for him to reconcile the thoughts he’d been having about his bodyguard. “Anyways, we talked about, ah, ‘plans...’” He crooked his fingers into quotation marks and elbowed Roadhog’s side. “In code!” he hastened to add when Roadhog’s chin jerked up.

“Neither of you are subtle people.” Roadhog groaned. “You are incapable of acting discreetly.”

“It’s fine, really! We were careful, cross me heart.”

“Recreation hour is over,” a tinny voice rang out through the loudspeaker above them. “All inmates return to your cell for count.”

“I’ll fish ya a note about dates,” Junkrat rushed to tell Roadhog before they had to separate. “The thirtieth, I’ll write it all down!”

Junkrat returned to his cell and stood next to Thatcher while the CO made his rounds to ensure everyone was accounted for.

The cell doors closed. The CO who did the count left the block. The moment the thick metal door clicked shut behind the officer, Thatcher jumped on Junkrat.

Warning bells flared in Junkrat’s mind, and he automatically shouted, “Roadho--” before Thatcher clapped a hand over his mouth and wrestled him to the ground.

“Junkrat?” Roadhog sounded concerned, and there was an ominous rattle of a cell door.

“Tell him you’re fine, or I will kill you right here, right now,” Thatcher hissed in Junkrat’s ear. The tip of a sharp piece of metal dug into his side, reinforcing the threat.

Junkrat swallowed. “S’nothin’,” he called out, forcing his voice to sound casual. “False alarm.”

Thatcher derisively patted his cheek, but it was more of a slap. “Good boy. Now… where the fuck is it?” he snarled, grabbing a fistful of Junkrat’s hair and shoving his face into the floor.

“Wh-- where’s what?” Junkrat gasped. For once, he wasn’t being flippant, the fact that he had stolen something valuable from his cellmate had already left his mind.

Thatcher yanked his head up and cracked it against the concrete floor, and he saw stars. “Don’t play dumb with me, you piece of shit -- the cigarettes! You’re the only one who knew where they were!”

“Oh-- oh shit, those things. Listen, listen mate, I got a good explanation for that.” Thatcher pulled his head up off the ground, and Junkrat cowered with a wince and covered his head in anticipation.

“Explain.”

Junkrat’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “Okay, so I really needed some things from the workshop that I can’t get meself, for obvious reasons, so I had to pay for it. And I don’t have nothin’ worth those goods, but you did, and it was just sittin’ there unused, so...” Okay, so maybe it wasn’t a good explanation after all.

Thatcher’s grip on his hair tightened. “That’s it? That’s your good explanation?”

“I, uh, heh… retract that statement.”

Thatcher exhaled, nostrils flaring. “So here’s the way I see it,” he said, his level voice brimming with barely contained rage. “There’s two options. Either I kill you, or you get me my cigarettes back and I don’t pound you into a bloody pulp. Decisions, decisions. On the one hand, I get the satisfaction of snuffing out your worthless little thief life. On the other, I get my goddamn ciggies back.”

“Can I place a vote for the latter?” Junkrat tentatively suggested.

Thatcher pushed off of him with a violent shove. “One day,” he said ominously. “Get them back to me by tomorrow night, or you’re dead meat, Rat.”

Junkrat nodded furiously. “One day,” he echoed.

A note whipped under the door to their cell, attached to Roadhog’s fishing line. It presumably was Roadhog confirming that Junkrat was, in fact, fine, but he didn’t get a chance to read it and find out. Thatcher snapped it up before he could get to it and stuffed it in his mouth.

Junkrat watched as Thatcher chewed and swallowed, never taking his eyes off of him. He shivered. He’d eaten a lot of questionable things in his life, but he’d yet to taste paper.

He made a mental note never to fuck with Thatcher or his belongings again.

---

“Are you okay?” was the first thing Roadhog said the next day during their social hour.

“Yeah, yeah, m’fine,” Junkrat muttered, brushing away the concern. His eyes flitted around the room in search of Belmont; he only had one hour to retrieve the stolen cigarettes, and he couldn’t waste it talking to Roadhog, as much as he would’ve liked to. “Just a lil’ spat between cellies, nothin’ happened.”

Roadhog looked him up and down. “Well, you don’t look hurt,” he finally said.

“Toldya I was fine.” Junkrat finally spotted Belmont slipping into the shower area. “Listen, I’ll be back in a jiff, gotta go talk to this bloke for a sec.”

Junkrat made a beeline for the showers. Belmont was in the back of the room, running the shower at full blast and filling the room with steam that made sweat trickle down the back of Junkrat’s neck. The crinkled black pack was in his hand, and he tapped out one of the cigarettes.

Junkrat took a deep breath and sidled up to Belmont. "Hey, Belmont... y'know those durries I gave ya?” He nodded at the pack. “Y'haven't smoked 'em all yet, have ya?"

Belmont looked up at him. "Why you asking?"

Junkrat grimaced. "I'm gonna be needin' 'em back." He anxiously twisted the fabric of his jumpsuit while Belmont stared at him for several long, suspicious moments.

"A deal's a deal," he said. "I don't have any use for those pipes I gave you, so I'm not trading back, if that's what you're on about."

"Well, good, 'cause I wasn't plannin' on givin' back the pipes either."

Belmont narrowed his eyes at him. "Let me get this straight. You want the cigs back. But you're not willing to give me anything in exchange, not even a useless piece of pipe? Why the fuck should I make that deal?"

It was a good point. "Come on, I'll give ya somethin' if ya swap back, honest."

Belmont folded his arms across his chest. "What's on the table?"

Junkrat struggled to think of something that he was willing to part with that he wasn't planning on using as a weapon. "I've got some extra wires, I can rig ya up a lighter?"

The look Belmont gave him was positively contemptuous. "What fuckin' good is a lighter if I have no cigs to light up?"

Junkrat bit his lip. "Fair point. Whaddya want, then? Gimme some suggestions."

A slow smile spread across Belmont's face, and that should have been Junkrat's clue to back out before things got ugly. "I can think of one way you can pay me back."

"Yeah, sure, anything!" Junkrat said, relieved.

Belmont began unbuttoning his jumpsuit.

Oh, no.

“On your knees, Fawkes.”

“Junkrat.” He didn't know what it said about him that his first objection was to not being called the proper name, but his second objection was hot on its heels. “Wait, ya don't mean--”

“I mean, you talk too much, and I'm kindly requesting you put that big mouth to better use.”

Junkrat wet his lips, his brain rapidly cycling through his options. No matter how he swung it, it looked like it came down to the same thing: either give head or get his head bashed in by his cellmate. “Fine,” he finally agreed. “But I won’t be happy about it.”

“I don’t care whether you’re happy about it, I just care about you doing it. Like I said: on your knees.”

Junkrat grumbled, but he obeyed and knelt down in front of Belmont. He fumbled uncertainly with the jumpsuit before tentatively taking his head between his lips. He closed his eyes as he bobbed up and down. Maybe it would be better if he could imagine it was somebody else.

Junkrat held out his palm to request payment and was grateful when he felt the cigarette pack pressed into his hand. He was less pleased when Belmont gripped the back of his head and forced him down, keeping him from pulling away now that he had gotten what he wanted. Caught off guard, Junkrat gagged a little.

He was trying to relax when Belmont came, shooting down his throat, and all he could think was Thank god, because it meant he could stop degrading himself.

All at once, Junkrat was shoved aside, and Belmont was pinned against the shower wall by one massive hand.

“What did I say?” Roadhog growled, and the abject anger in his voice frightened even Junkrat -- the only other time that he’d heard such rage from Roadhog was in the bottle shop, when he’d made the offhand comment about “fire never hurting anyone.”

“He-- he’s yours, I know! But he agreed!” Belmont gasped, trying to cover himself back up, as if he was afraid Roadhog would cut off some of the more sensitive parts of his anatomy. “He said yes, I didn’t make him to do anything!”

Roadhog didn’t let go. He simply turned his head to look at Junkrat, whose stomach plummeted. From his position on the floor, Roadhog looked bigger and scarier than ever, but it wasn’t his imposing figure that filled Junkrat with fear, but the knowledge that Roadhog thought he wanted this. Of all the compromising positions for Roadhog to catch him in, having a near-stranger’s cock down his throat was the worst.

"...Yes," he admitted, voice unnaturally small and quiet. He didn't know why he had told the truth, that he had consented, when he could have lied to save face in front of Roadhog and get Belmont permanently out of the picture. There was just something about Roadhog that made him want to be honest for once in his life, even when it meant confessing to whatever awful thing he had done.

Roadhog released Belmont and started walking away. Seized by panic, Junkrat scrambled to his feet and chased after him, cigarettes in hand. "Wait, Roadhog! I didn't-- I mean, I did say yes, but I didn't want it, promise--"

"I don't care what you do with other people," Roadhog said levelly. "It's none of my business. Just tell me next time before I try to kill someone for taking advantage of you."

"There won't be a next time! Roadhog, it was just -- it was a business thing, see--"

The familiar, disembodied voice crackled over the loudspeaker. "Recreation hour is over. All inmates return to your cells for count."

Junkrat didn't budge. He touched Roadhog's arm. "Mate, ya gotta believe me, I didn't go askin' for this--"

"Get back to your cell before the CO catches you." Roadhog pulled his arm away from him and headed back to Cell 23. Junkrat watched him go, helpless and despondent and filled with self-loathing like he'd never felt before.

The door that separated their unit from the main prison hallway beeped. Jolted back into reality, he hurried back to his cell before two COs stepped through. Junkrat tossed the cigarettes at Thatcher, who stuffed them beneath his mattress. They stood at attention, backs rigid, as the correctional officer walked past each cell and counted everyone, his partner at the ready in case any prisoners had any funny ideas about attacking them.

“All clear!” The CO shouted, and the doors to the cells slid shut with a resounding clang.

The minute the two officers left, Junkrat dove for his pencil and paper.

Thatcher dug the cigarettes out from under his mattress and scooped out his brick hidey hole. “Good. Don’t ever even think about stealing from me again, understood?”

"Yeah, 'course," Junkrat muttered, distracted. He tapped the pencil against the floor as he tried to figure out how to word his letter to Roadhog. He was acutely distressed; he needed Roadhog to know that he had no feelings, sexual or otherwise, for Belmont, and that he wasn't the kind of person who would suck dick for no reason.

"Roadhog," he wrote. "Mate. Listen, here's the deal. I've been getting some weapon parts, ya know how it is. And I’m making some bombs, see? But I needed some pipes. Don’t got nothing worth trading, so I did a stupid thing and traded Thatcher’s ciggies to Belmont. He didn't take kindly to that, so I had to get em back from Belmont. Which meant sucking his dick. I swear, I only did it cuz I don't want Thatcher to kill me. The only d--" He scribbled out that phrase before it got too far, because wow, that was certainly a thought he was experiencing, that the only dick he'd want to suck would be Roadhog's. He rubbed his face with his hands. What was happening to him?

"It don't mean nothing, honest. I'm not the kinda bloke what goes around blowing people all the time. I mean, you know me. He ain't me type, he's too small. I told ya I like em big, right? Pretty sure I did, but me memory ain't the best." He gnawed on the end of his pencil, worried about how best to proceed. "Thanks for sticking up for me. Ya always got my back. Don't be mad at me, yeah?" He didn't know if that last bit sounded desperate or not, but frankly, he was a little desperate. He couldn't handle the thought of Roadhog judging him.

"P.S." he added, "Destroy this letter. Flush it or eat it or something. That's a thing hogs do, right?" He gave a small, guilty giggle. He was trying to bring some levity to the mood, but it was a serious request, there was far too much incriminating information in his note.

He looked over the letter. It was probably riddled with spelling errors, as the only words he was 100% sure he knew how to spell correctly were the ones he learned from assembly manuals, which were how he taught himself how to read in the first place. Still, Roadhog was sure to get the gist of it. He tied the note to his fishing line and cast it over to Roadhog's cell. He couldn't feel anything for a long moment, and he tried waggling the string in case Roadhog hadn't noticed it. He was about ready to reel it back in, crestfallen, when he finally felt the note being detached. He waited anxiously for Roadhog to read it and, with any luck, reply. When he felt a tug on his string, he pulled it back through the narrow space of his cell door.

"You're an idiot,” Junkrat read. “That’s it?” he called out. He'd come to realise that Roadhog calling him an idiot was more often than not a term of endearment. Once upon a time, it had been a proper insult, but as of late, there was more affection to malice in his voice every time he called Junkrat an idiot. Still, it didn’t sufficiently answer whether Roadhog was angry over the whole incident.

“Turn the paper over,” Roadhog replied from two cells down.

Junkrat flipped the page over. “But I'm not mad." He exhaled in relief. He was glad he hadn't irreparably fucked things up with Roadhog, and that he -- hopefully -- wasn't being judged for going along with Belmont's terms of payment. There was still the pressing matter of the fact that he had nearly expressed a desire to blow Roadhog, but that was a thought that he would deal with some other time, because that was a tangle of emotions that he was not prepared to sort through.

#junkrat #roadhog #roadrat #overwatch #nanowrimo 2016 #origins #my fanfiction

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