[Of course Junkrat looks either horribly embarrassed or horribly angry, and regardless of whichever it turns out to be Zenyatta is all set with a heartfelt apology to try and soothe him-
- but he doesn't get the chance. Before he can even think about speaking he's whipped into the room. On his feet he might have stood some chance of resisting through his sheer weight alone, but he's caught mid-float and moves as easily as a balloon on a string.]
J-Jamison! [So much for keeping his composure. He stares at the junker, captured hand twitching, almost nervous.]
[Junkrat half-laughs at the sound of that stammering, the sound like sandpaper; he pushes the machine's back against the door roughly, and starts attempting to strip him.]
Looks like I got the upper hand this time, 'eh, bot?
[Zenyatta's back slams hard against the door. In the next moment there are hands scrabbling at his hips; there's the sound of fabric straining, metal scuffing metal, and before he knows it his pants are around his ankles.]
Jamie- hold on a moment-- [His voice skips a beat. He's already trying to grab Jamie's shoulders, hands, anything, just to get him to slow down.]
[That, in fact, is what snags on Zenyatta's attention the most; until now he has seemed, for the most part, to be- well- a sex object, there entirely for Jamie's gratification.
This, though... still recovering, he manages a light, almost (but not quite) adoring laugh.]
In that case... please. [He spreads his palms, guiding them down his body as if in display.] Be my guest.
[the real question is will he figure out the modesty panel]
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- but he doesn't get the chance. Before he can even think about speaking he's whipped into the room. On his feet he might have stood some chance of resisting through his sheer weight alone, but he's caught mid-float and moves as easily as a balloon on a string.]
J-Jamison! [So much for keeping his composure. He stares at the junker, captured hand twitching, almost nervous.]
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Looks like I got the upper hand this time, 'eh, bot?
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Jamie- hold on a moment-- [His voice skips a beat. He's already trying to grab Jamie's shoulders, hands, anything, just to get him to slow down.]
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What?!
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You are quite alright? Not hurt, or angry with me?
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... he doesn't even realize that that particular train of thought implies his belief in Zenyatta's sentience.
He rolls his eyes, grumbling.]
I'm fine! How the hell would you've-- no, no no no, just forget it, awright? I'm fine! Now can we get this show on the road or what?
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This, though... still recovering, he manages a light, almost (but not quite) adoring laugh.]
In that case... please. [He spreads his palms, guiding them down his body as if in display.] Be my guest.
[the real question is will he figure out the modesty panel]