potassiumchlorate:

Gulp.

Run, little RED man. Your puny fireworks will not stop me.

iamfullycharged:

heavyweaponsshy:

potassiumchlorate:

/Bursts into laughter, loudly, at the cloud of white dust and the panicked Medic. He brings a hand to his mouth and calls across the gap./ Need any sugar, 厨师？

/Stumbles out of BLU base, bellowing in anger at the explosion and the possibility that someone has hurt Rudolf. He finds the Medic in his hiding place and drops down beside him, holding up his oversized hands to shield against any falling debris./ ДОКТОР! What was noise?!

/Stands, slowly - brushing the flour out of his hair, or at least trying to, and feeling profoundly stupid - both for standing around like an idiot, and for letting himself be so scared by a flour bomb/ Apparently, RED are throwing their food at us now. /Sighs, looks over to the other side of the battlefield - narrowing his gaze at the enemy demoman./ Perhaps we should go and introduce ourselves?

/Gets warily to his feet, following the Medic’s lead. He cocks his head and sneers at the cackling figure in the distance, then cracks his knuckles./ Yes Doctor. Let us go meet this little man. 

potassiumchlorate:

iamfullycharged:

potassiumchlorate:

[[…]]

/Dashes off to the kitchens and returns with a bag of flour, ties it to a stick of dynamite and loads it into his launcher. Chu carefully lines up the enemy Medic, leaning slightly to the right to adjust for the wind, before firing the ‘gift’ into the air./

/Was minding his own business, in truth - distracted while taking a mid-morning stroll, and entirely oblivious to the enemy Demoman. He hadn’t even expected RED to have been about - should have, perhaps, but still hadn’t - and is therefore rather startled when the explosive goes off, sending flour everywhere - and the Medic diving behind the nearest piece of cover/

/Bursts into laughter, loudly, at the cloud of white dust and the panicked Medic. He brings a hand to his mouth and calls across the gap./ Need any sugar, 厨师？

/Stumbles out of BLU base, bellowing in anger at the explosion and the possibility that someone has hurt Rudolf. He finds the Medic in his hiding place and drops down beside him, holding up his oversized hands to shield against any falling debris./ ДОКТОР! What was noise?!

miss-pauling:

heavyweaponsshy:

miss-pauling:

In several places, on several maps, purple stationery paper has been tacked to walls in well traversed areas. It reads as following:  

Things are getting a little stuffy around 2Fort, and the days are getting colder. Miss Helen requests volunteers to be transferred to other bases. You may chose from any of the following maps, but please drop by and tell me.

• CP_Coldfront
• CP_Degrootkeep
• CTF_Well
• PLR_Hightower

Those who choose to stay at CTF_2Fort, CTF_Sawmill, PLR_Thundermountain and CP_Dustbowl will continue as always, but the volunteers will receive a bonus. The Administrator’s Holiday gift, if you might think of it that way.

I’ll be dropping by to visit various veterans first, but after that, I’ll wait in the neutral areas of your maps between the dates of November 14th through 18th to wait for any participants.

[[Who is even at Thunder Mountain in the first place? (Boohoo does anyone want to join my stupid group?)]]

(( That’s the group/map I was referring to. eUe ))

[[Yes, it’s just, there’s hardly anybody there to begin with, so why ask them to leave?]]

miss-pauling:

In several places, on several maps, purple stationery paper has been tacked to walls in well traversed areas. It reads as following:  

Things are getting a little stuffy around 2Fort, and the days are getting colder. Miss Helen requests volunteers to be transferred to other bases. You may chose from any of the following maps, but please drop by and tell me.

• CP_Coldfront
• CP_Degrootkeep
• CTF_Well
• PLR_Hightower

Those who choose to stay at CTF_2Fort, CTF_Sawmill, PLR_Thundermountain and CP_Dustbowl will continue as always, but the volunteers will receive a bonus. The Administrator’s Holiday gift, if you might think of it that way.

I’ll be dropping by to visit various veterans first, but after that, I’ll wait in the neutral areas of your maps between the dates of November 14th through 18th to wait for any participants.

[[Who is even at Thunder Mountain in the first place? (Boohoo does anyone want to join my stupid group?)]]

iamfullycharged:

/Well. She’s not shouting at them, which is a surprise. A nice surprise, but still a surprise. Rudolf’s lost the ability to really properly process this all, though - between pain and exhaustion, which the primitive Mediguns aren’t doing much to help with, as much as he’s being - slowly - knit back together. His primary concern is Arkasha - he keeps glancing towards the Russian, only half-focusing on the others present. He’s safe - they’re safe - but- Memory wipes?/ A… transfer, Frau Administrator? /Memory wipes? Is that- was it the Administration who wiped the Scout’s memory so completely? Would they- they wouldn’t do the same to him and Arkadiy, would they? Removing everything…?/

/He’s been dreaming of drifting peacefully through the night sky, wrapped in a blanket of starlight, a bright planet far above calling him ever nearer and promising a peace he’d never known in the sorry world below. But something made him hesitate, a voice far away and muffled, tugging at the edges of what was left of his memory. He couldn’t understand the words - no, words were a hazy, discarded thing, left behind in a brain currently drowning in its own blood - and the voice was argumentative and fretful - but he could remember it crying out in victory alongside his own, he could remember its boisterous laughter mingling with his, he could remember it nestled against his chest, murmuring sweet and secret things only for him./

/He’s pulled back down in a sudden, nauseating drop, yanked away from the shining beacon above and back into a mind struggling to reorganize itself in the wake of a retreating hemorrhage, and into a world of immense, shattering pain. He moans horribly and gulps air like a drowning man as he comes to, wishing for a moment that he’d been allowed to drift off into oblivion./

/But then his earthly memories come flooding back, and his memories of the past few hours leap to the front of his mind like panicking frogs, and he opens his eyes in desperation (well, the one eye that actually will open), only to see exactly what he needs to. That voice has a face again, and a name - it’s his Doctor, his Rudolf, alive and free and looking at him with such concern…/

/He tries to reach out, to sit up, to pull his любимый into a relieved, protective hug, but the throbbing pain racking his body won’t let him do much more than shrug and quietly whimper a single word./ 

Doctor…

(Source: heavyweaponsshy)

[[Hurhurhur I set this blog’s language to Russian and now I can’t understand any of the buttons. I AM SMART.]]

saxton-hale:

heavyweaponsshy:

iamfullycharged:

/Well, what do you know, they didn’t die. Somehow. Rudolf, though, is still clinging to his Heavy, and doesn’t even let go once they’ve arrived. In fact, he just clings a little tighter once Saxton announces, in his own, inimitable way, that they’re there./

/Squeezes the Medic not quite hard enough to crush him, but nearly so, as a number of oncoming cars and one enormous semi truck honk and swerve off the road as Saxton plows, undaunted, down the wrong lane. Doesn’t let go even when the trip is over./

We are not dead?

/Grabs the newlyweds by their shirts and drags them inside.

FIRST ROUND IS ON ME.

NOW GET IN LINE, PRINCE-ASS.

GET ME SOME OF THAT MUSTACHIO ICE CREAM, I NEED TO VISIT THE LOO.

/Shoves money at the Heavy.

/Arkadiy eyes the wad of sweaty green bills and shrugs. He has plenty of money on him. Maybe not enough to just hand 7000 U.S. dollars to a trick-or-treater - those damn REDs are paid too much - but more than enough. But if Saxton insists…/

/He shuffles into line behind a gaggle of civilians, grinning a little too broadly at the curious children who swivel their heads around to stare at the savage-looking mercenaries in the ridiculous hats. He elbows Rudolf gently and leans over to whisper in his ear./ What kind of ice cream do you want, Doctor?