The blue light of the monitor was the only thing illuminating the messy room as Jax stared at the "Defeat" screen for the tenth time that night. His headset buzzed with the static of a teammate—some guy named BlackGryph0n—who had been screaming for the last five minutes about team composition.
The lobby went silent for a heartbeat before a third player, Jayn, piped up with a sigh. "Maybe I'll be Tracer?" рџЋµOverwatch No Mercy The Living Tombstone рџЋµ
Jax toggled his mic, a smirk tugging at his lips. He wasn't in the mood to be lectured by a stranger who probably spent more time looking at the kill cam than the objective. "I'm not gonna be Mercy," he replied coolly. "I’m not gonna be any kind of support. Your tears are what I live for". The blue light of the monitor was the
"This is the worst team I have ever played with in my life!" the voice crackled. Jax rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. He had played McCree all game, landing headshots left and right, but it didn't matter when the rest of the squad melted the moment they touched the point. "Maybe I'll be Tracer
"You should've picked Mercy," the teammate continued, his voice dripping with condescension. "You should've picked any kind of support. We ended up losing, and it’s all your fault!".
"Nerf Bastion!" the first guy yelled, his rage reaching a fever pitch.