He chirruped a questioning sound, turning and slowly advancing with the flower held out. He held one flowering Rosoideae in his metal phalanges, extending it towards the corner where Junkrat was stationed. With that thought in his cerebral processes, the automaton straightened up from his task. Certainly their successful track record when working together equated to trust? Perhaps Junkrat sought to change parameters of their relationship status? To Friends? Bastion rarely understood the lanky man’s words, but he admired his tenacity. He’d been instructed by D.Va to assemble the appropriate ingredients for a ‘flower crown.’ A Pink Flower Crown (she’d been very specific), and so off the E54 had gone in search of the Magnoliophyta possessing the required criteria. And yet, Jamison was here, watching the robot pick flowers.Īnd that was what Bastion was doing. And logic dictated that humans did not spend time in close proximity to other beings they did not Like. By Bastion’s algorithms for human behavior, he knew that Junkrat did not particularly like him. So the Automaton knew Fawkes was there… but what he didn’t know was the reason why. His peripheral sensors had picked up the fiery headed man’s heat signature the instant he’d come within range (Range of what you ask? Never mind that.) Bastion was not unaware of Junkrat’s presence just around the corner.
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