#thoughts from the depths of merc's brain

[melted-mercury]

fun fact: for today's "change your pants" daily quest, getting extinguished in search of unflipped crabs for the other quest also counts as an outfit change. I found this out the stupid way

[melted-mercury]

This is why I'm such a slow reader, I have to take the time to read back over the last sentence I read so that I register the words at least once a paragraph. I honestly feel like some people must be zoning out and simply observing the words and not taking in the meaning because how the hell else do you get through like 10 chapters in half an hour.

Best comparison I can think of is someone who eats a chocolate with a flavour and doesn't think about the taste, aka my dad. He'll eat a chocolate with, say, a strawberry filling, and we'll ask him how it tasted and he'll just say "like chocolate". He doesn't register the flavour of the chocolate, only the act of eating it (because of this we have banned him from eating chocolate with filling lol).

And yeah stuff like "eyes darkening/softening" is easy to imagine if you've like. Met people and been in conversations. And "snarling" doesn't literally mean the person makes an animal noise it's called synonyms

I’m so sorry but in the nicest way possible do yall actually read books or just read words??? Cause I’ve been seeing that trend of people not understanding how “snarled” and “eyes darkened” and “eyes softened” etc. was used in a book and like…

Genuinely, do yall just not have imagination?? Or not understand figurative language??? Also eyes do literally darken and soften have you not lived a life??? How do you read with no imagination? Is this how you get through so many books in one month - you simply don’t take the time the understand the words as they are read?

[melted-mercury]

Just realised I can start my fanfic ideas whenever I want. None of them are long enough that I need to make a structure or plan for it. I have the ideas. I have the time even if they take me a while to finish. I can just. Go do it. Open my writing app and fucking write them. Idk what I thought was stopping me

However something tells me I will somehow still not write anything on any of them for at least another month despite this revelation

[heavens-aesthetic-kitchen]

Why the TF2 Defense Trio deserve more recognition

The people have spoken, I have decided to create an essay disguised as a post on this godforsaken website because it's a free country goddammit! (I would have done it either way lmaooo, I have a lot of shit to say about these maniacs) To start this formal essay glorified very serious shitpost, why should you as a tf2 fan care about these 3 men? They're so "boring" and there's not much going on with them. If ya took a second, let's pause with what was being said. YOU MUST BE OUT OF YOUR GODDAMN MIND to think such thoughts, we must shake you out of cuckoo land by giving you an in-depth look into these three so that you understand where I'm coming from. Let's start in order:

Demoman:

After being in the fandom since 2019, there's always one character I always thought wasn't given much anything in the fandom at all. Even taking ships out of the equation, there's barely any fics I've that focus on Tavish Finneagan Degroot specifically that I've seen that isn't a compilation fic (I read a lot of x readers, don't judge me). Believe me, I checked ao3. I went through Demoman's tags and I tried very hard to filter a lot of the crossover and relationship tags, yet there's less of Demoman himself, than there's him just existing as a side character of a story. Which is honestly sad, I honestly think Demo is one of the more kinder mercs compared to a lot of the team. This man made friends with the BLU soldier, despite knowing that they were supposed to be killing each other. Sure, it's unclear whether or not Demo did actually go through with it and it's just a ruse, because the voicelines in WAR! don't have a set timeline. But I do think that Demo would have tried to keep his friendship with BLU soldier. He's very chill. I've never actually seen him get violent against his friends and family, despite being a drunkard. I honestly think he's one of the sweetest people in TF2, he takes good care of his mom and haunted sword lmaoooo. Jokes aside, he seems like a genuinely good man and I barely see anything that suggests he's sadistic. He's a chaotic and loud, but not bad. Not bad at all. The fact he can still do his job well, even after drinking so much that his body created a whole distillery, is even more impressive. He is damn good at what he does and works very hard. He's had multiple jobs, even as wee little lad. Despite what people think of him, the fact he's getting paid 5 million dollars a year, is proof he knows what he's doing. He loves his job and couldn't bear the thought of not working. I feel like his backstory isn't talked about enough in the fandom either. When you think about it, it's kinda fucked up that he was put in an orphanage by his biological parents until he was in the right age to be blowing people up. Not only that, his eye socket was haunted by the Bombinomicon so that every halloween a giant eye would manifest, attacking him and his friends. Even Medic couldn't help him and instead resorting to scooping the part of Demo's brain where he remembered so he would stop asking. He most likely has a lot of stories for you, I see him as the type that has a lot to say. His past is the most fleshed out and complete out of all the mercs, which I really appreciate, you can do a lot more with him. Also another thing, during Unhappy Returns, he took the time to reassure Soldier that he wouldn't think he's a civilian. He didn't brush Soldier's worries aside and instead comforted him. I wish I had a lot more to say about Demo because I am baffled that he isn't being gushed about as a potential partner. He has the excitement and like zero baggage. A thing I also wanna point out is that he seems to be insecure of the fact he's a black scottish man with only one eye during Meet The Demoman. I may be reading into things a bit too much, but it makes me wanna be like "NOOOO don't talk about yourself like that, bro. You're so cute UGHHH" Also also he's handsome. Sure looks can be subjective, but I still think Demo has a face I would kiss hehe. He looks great with his beard and his cheeky ass smile. GOD I could gush about him all day, but I have to move on rip.

Heavy:

Honestly, I'm having a hard time just finding the words to describe this amazing man without giving him the respect he deserves. But I'll sure try. Heavy has had a difficult life and I've always admired how strong he was. Not just of his muscles, but he endured one of the toughest situations and still kept moving forward with his life even though it was traumatizing. You see why I'm even having a hard time talking about him? I can't really get down into the weeds, without getting serious for a min. I feel like the fandom doesn't give him much credit for being able to deal with so much. He's the rock for his family after his father disappeared (atp I think he's dead, which is the cherry on top this depressing sundae) and I wouldn't doubt that he would be the same for his team. He's a man of few words, but that makes him all the more intriguing. Just because this man has a lot of brawn does not mean he's dumb at all. Despite how he acts in the battlefield, Heavy is observant and clever. Although, it's implied that Spy being Scout's dad is an open secret between the mercs and Miss Pauling, the fact he figured it out without saying it directly must mean he has a lot more going on. He's also educated, getting a phD in Russian Literature. It's not a STEM program, but he actually got a doctorate and went to college, that's a lot more than half of what the mercs did lmaooo. Also he has a bit of a softie side, not just for his mom and sisters, but also other creatures as well. I respect him so much for avoiding violence against those dogs during the Showdown comic. Not only shows what an absolute sweetheart he is, but also how much he's able to think quickly on his feet. Heavy is very direct and blunt, I don't see him as the type to lie about his feelings. I appreciate that he doesn't feel the need to sugarcoat anything, he'll get the job done and he ain't playing. There's no fluff, he knows what he wants and that's to rev up Sasha and ram through sons of bitches without any worries.

I feel like I wanna point out, his story seems the most unexplored in the fandom, even though it has a lot of potential for ANGST factor. I already broke down how sad it is, but I just feel like it isn't said enough. Can I just say how cuddly he looks?! GAH, I feel like he would give the warmest hugs! The way he smiled in Unhappy Returns when he finds out his family doesn't need to live in fear anymore, just melts my heart! He's so protective over his family and friends! I wish I had a lot more to say about this guy because I just can't stop finding more things about him that go unappreciated. I had to literally edit this part so many times before moving on, he just has those little details you don't notice until you take a second and have that OH MY GOD moment

Engineer:

I was getting so hyped, when it was finally our resident southern nerd's time to shine. GOD I have so much to say about this man. It's been over 5 fucking years and I have never stopped simping for this man since 2019, I think I'm gonna go insane from how much I've been repressing, I go feral when he's around. Anyways enough stalling. I don't ever think a fictional character has ever made me swoon quite like Engineer, I really mean that. I have ask and pleaded to whatever god was listening to give me a man like Engie. To me, he is everything I ever wanted and more.

First, I wanna talk about what makes him attractive to me. His accent. His southern charm, UGH he's killing me with that smooth voice and chivalry! I swear this man could make me faint just from existing. The way he smiles is so warm, his insults are so corny I love them. That five o clock shadow GAHH! I'm getting butterflies all over again. I swear I love all three of the defense bois, but Dell Conagher has my heart wrapped around his gunslinger metal finger. All those personal reasons aside, I've always thought Dell Conagher was a very interesting character in the world of TF2. He might not have much screen time or goofy shenanigans like the other mercs, but that doesn't mean you can ignore him oh no no no. This man is important within the whole story of Mann Co and TF industries, his grandfather being the catalyst of the game's events and the comics going forward. The Conaghers are the SOLE REASON why Team Fortress 2's story exists. I find it strange that the fandom hasn't done much with this fact because you can do a lot with this idea. Engineer knows a lot of shit and would be the biggest threat to Helen, if not for the fact that his family has been helping her for years.

Like his backstory, he's not seen much in the battlefield, but he has a lot more going on behind the scenes. Imagine the possibilities. He is damn intelligent and he knows it. While Dell is very sweet and has a southern charm, this is a facade to hide his God complex and sadistic tendencies. If you think this man is just your boring gentle engineer, you've got a big storm coming. It's heavily implied that he sawed off his own arm so that he could use the gunslinger. This man works on projects with Medic and doesn't question the moral implications of putting a human brain in a pumpkin. Hell, he threatened his own employer, even if he was an old man (Granted, Blutarch dug up his grandpa's grave, so he probably should have gotten something a lot worse than just Dell telling him to fuck off). Engineer is more than the texan egghead sweetie pie, he is a mercenary for a reason and I would argue that he might be as insane, if not more than, the rest of the team. No sane man would willingly work with a bunch of war criminals if he wasn't also crazy. That's the thing I really like about him. I love playing as him in the game because it represents his character very well. He technically serves a supportive role to the team with his buildings, but he is a killer with a lot of tools in his disposal, With the right amount of training, he can absolutely dominate in the battlefield.

I feel like he's one of the people that underestimate and assume that he's an easy target, but he's a lot more than that. He has a lot of layers that makes me want to learn more about him and what he has to offer.

In Conclusion:

These guys are cool. Lmaooo okay I won't just end it there. I genuinely believe that they're not getting the recognition that they deserve, they've got a lot more going for them if you pay attention. Sure they might not always be the loudest or most prominant character in the story, but what they lack in quantity, they make up for in quality TEN FOLD. They don't have to be your favourite, but you should at least give them a chance. You never know, they may surprise you.

Okay so thats enough of that, I couldn't find a divider above this message, so you're getting this grainy ass gif. Honestly, I put way too much effort on this shitpost lmaooo, but I just wanted to get my thoughts out in a more concise manner. If you want to add more stuff about these three that I didn't mention, feel free to do so. Anyways thanks for reading

[demonir]

What are the tf2 Kumamon weapons like?

been having a complicated few days but I finally had the energy to sit down and do this so here we go!!!

I feel soldier kumamon would have standard kumamon's weapon as it kinda reminds me of the rocket launcher already? even thought they aren't similar, but reading up on kumamons wiki info and how it's a soldier and such I'm like yeah it fits

As for pyro kumamon...well it's an ice digimon so a flamethrower does not make much sense so pyro kumamon has been changed to uhh... cryo kumamon! they got a freeze gun now! I made the chamber that I assume would store the fuel transparent because I like the idea of seeing the freeze juice sloshing inside hehe

As for the other mercs? I think their weapons would look mostly the same just slightly simplified? although tf2's style is already rather cartoony so not a lot of change would be made in my opinion, if you wanna know about how they WORK however...well

Having established that it's an ice type digimon that shoots snowball projectiles the rest is sort of easy? standard bullets are just snowballs meaning heavy's is a snowball minigun for example (lol that's adorable) I know that this technically means I've referred to soldier's rockets as "standard bullets" but bear with me ok?? haha get it? bear? ahem anyways- soldier shoots COOL snowballs ok? SPECIAL snowballs there ya go-

Demoman's are just a different kind of snowball as the wiki I'm checking says kumamon has a variety of different snowballs it can use

We're just gonna interpret "according to purpose" as "depending on the class" and say demo kumamon has sticky snowballs and uhh pill snowballs? im more inclined to say they are sort of explosive ice cubes bc snowballs do NOT bounce

Sniper kumamon probs shoots piercing icicles straight into ya brain from his patented Kumma Co rifle (haha see what I did there?) As for Engie's sentries-

I told myself I was NOT going to draw a sentry EVER IN MY LIFE but midway through writing this post I was like no no no no I must illustrate this. Level 3 snow sentry is slightly taller than the average kumamon unlike in game tf2's sentry that is slightly shorter than real engineer, this is not because I am some sort of genius mastermind with huge plans in mind this is because I suck with proportions (and I drew this without having a reference of the sentry next to engie at hand) But anyway the snow sentry has a steady supply of snowballs to kill you with <3

I have NO idea how medic's medigun would work let's just say it does, same goes for spy's disguises

Anyways uhh I didn't intend for this to go for so long or get so in depth I just tried to be as faithful as I could to both digimon and tf2 but 1: I am new to digimon I am like a freshly born baby I had to go look through 3 different digimon wikis for info on this stuff bc i wanted to take my fictional polar bear SERIOUSLY and 2: while I AM a huge tf2 fan I am not knowledgeable on the weapons department so this was a real doozy for me

If any of you digimon/tf2 fans have any ideas/suggestions or even corrections I am all ears! these are just my ideas coming from someone who made a crack au at 12 am one night because some random anonymous person on the internet told them to

Also I've been calling it kumamon the entire time but it's name is also chackmon???? I feel properly pranked

[melted-mercury]

hey also guess what. if you Write That Self Indulgent Shit there's a good chance someone else will also like and want to Read Your Self Indulgent Shit, then you can enjoy it together. so not only are you doing yourself a favour by writing what you love instead of forcing yourself to write something you don't love so much just because other people will like it, you're feeding metaphorical breadcrumbs to a metaphorical tiny flock of birds who nobody else bothers to bring food for because the breadcrumbs will go further if they feed the bigger group. and the birds might even come say hi and tell you how much they love the breadcrumbs, and do you know how thrilling it is when someone else loves a thing that you made about something that you love, and that they also love? VERY !!!! go write what you want to write, befriend little birds, be free

WRITE IT!!! WRITE THAT SELF INDULGENT SHIT!!!

[adelaidedrubman]

wip wednesday on day one nanowrimo sick and twisted world

i was tagged on this extra Fucked Up wip wednesday by my loves @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat and @nightbloodbix! outgoing tags below cut for space efficiency + join the writing tag list here!

actually trying to do nanowrimo for the first time, albeit nontraditionally and jumping between a few projects. (yell at me about which ones if desired.) so here’s an excerpt from a bg3 oneshot on the november agenda: lae’zel and my rogue gnome girlie millie having an emotionally constipated debrief following All Of That at the crèche. no real spoiler warning for this one since they are being vague, but a small warning for idle but insincere suicidal ideation + character cracking joke on said topic 

Millie swung her legs back and forth, dangled off the ledge of the cliff.  She leaned back, palms pressed against rock, looking down at them — at the skin growing more weathered, dry and cracked by the day — rather than down into the chasm. She would wait here stubbornly, she thought, until someone came looking for her. 

If she was lucky, she thought, that would mean she would wait there forever — wait sitting right there for ages there until she grew too weak for her body to hold itself up, and she went limp and plummeted off the cliff in her sleep none the wiser, before she ever had to worry about losing herself to the tadpole.  A soft whisper of wind that never reached to brush her skin told her she was not so lucky.  Attuning her ears to the barely audible rustle of the footsteps told her everything else she needed to know — light, airy and quick, but forceful and sure.  “Lae’zel,” she noted flatly, without lifting her gaze from her own hand pressed against cragged rock. She studied the smattering of sunlight filtering through trees to create blotches of warm bronze against her skin amongst the web of shadows cast by leaves.  She’d spent so long clinging to the shadows — being nothing, nobody, anytime she wanted.  Finding solitude, oblivion in the blink of an eye, as soon the whim to disappear struck her.  Now, here she was — stuck with a camp full of companions her survival necessitated not abandoning, despite her heart crying for space. Including one companion adept enough at tracking her down Millie couldn’t even carve out a five minute illusion of having left them behind.  Hells, she couldn’t have truly held the illusion, anyways. Even with no other soul around, the idle wriggle of the tadpole tickling the depths of her brain would always be there to remind her she wasn’t truly alone.  Millie sighed, the presence of the woman behind her likewise heavily felt despite her lack of audible response.  “If you’re skulking about back there so you can push me off the ledge, make quicker work of it. I’m not that keen on putting up a fight, anyways.”  “Tch,” Lae’zel spat, single syllable stinging with the acidity of disgust. “I would not soil my hands claiming empty victory against an opponent pathetic enough to welcome death,” she replied. “I will turn my sword on you at your surrender should the tadpole overtake you. But only then.” Still not turning around, she droned, “Lae’zel, it’s me — Millie the ghaik.” “Your foolishness is normally tolerable, hardened as it is by your ferocity,” Lae’zel replied, drawn out with a hiss of disdain. “But in the wake of the embarrassment you proved at the Crèche, I find my patience for it thinned.”

no pressure tags out to beloveds @g0dspeeed @florbelles @josephslittledeputy @afarcryfrommymain @poetikat @just-another-wasteland-merc @voidika @captastra @confidentandgood @belorage @deputyash @blissfulalchemist @shellibisshe @thedeadthree @ladyofedens-blog @miyabilicious @simplegenius042 @henbased @clicheantagonist @firstaidspray @strafethesesinners @quickhacked @jackiesarch @v0idbuggy @orionlancasterr @stacispratt @8bitpizzacoupons @strangefable @shallow-gravy @roofgeese @inafieldofdaisies @corvosattano and anyone who wants to share!

[the-archangel]

Close to You

Day 3 of Cyber Hanami using the prompt "In Bloom"

A fluffy break in the tension of the last two posts, and indeed the next two!

V was laying on the bed in his apartment, staring at the ceiling, tapping his fingers on his chest and trying to figure out what he’d done wrong.

Johnny was sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on knees, head dropped, Johnny is bored, this could be dangerous...

“Shit V, we haven’t left the apartment for two fucking days, move your sorry ass and let’s kill some bad guys.”

V turned his head, looking distractedly at his head terrorist,

“Nah Johnny, not in the mood, maybe tomorrow?”

“That’s what you said yesterday, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Truth was, Johnny kinda knew what was bothering V, but sincerely hoped he was wrong and that V was worrying over that stealth gig turned messy, or about not being able to afford the Vectra he’d been eyeing up, because if he was right about what was worrying the young merc, it was going to make their lives even more complicated – if that was even possible.

V wandered into the shower leaving Johnny leaning on the sink, deep in thought, he’d decided maybe it would be better to just get it over with, to confront V, get it out in the open and deal with it. Following him over to the wardrobe, the Rockerboy crosses his arms and leans against the cupboards with one foot on the shelf,

“Admit it, it’s Kerry isn’t it?”

V’s emerald eyes suddenly look sad, he slumps down on the bean bag with a huff.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Well I live in your brain so yeah, but I imagine there are scopbeetles who would look at you and know you’re lovesick.”

V looks offended, “Fuck you Johnny, I am not...I’m just...confused.”

V had seen Kerry a few times now, from the beginning he felt a connection with the guy, he found him attractive sure, but more than that, he felt that he knew him, that they’d be good together, that he’d like to know him better. There’d been flirting, an undeniable mutual attraction, but over the weeks it had turned into something else, until the last time they met, a couple of days ago there had been great sex followed by vague promises and declarations. Yet every single time, just as things were getting going, Kerry walked away, or asked V to leave him to his thoughts which was even worse.

“Why does he always walk away? He never invites me over to his place or offers to come back with me, I don’t get it, what did I do?”

V sees himself as a pretty straightforward kinda guy, whenever he’d been into someone they’d meet up then hang at each other’s places and get to know each other over the last night’s cold pizza and beer before the inevitable fizzle out and parting of ways. This felt different though, V was pretty sure he was out of his depth, not only was Kerry intimidatingly gorgeous and charismatic, he was also much more experienced in these kinds of things and complicated in ways V couldn’t even imagine (though it would for sure make him feel better to know that one day he’d know the singer better than anybody ever had).

Johnny felt for the kid, especially knowing that back in the day, that’s exactly what Kerry would have been into too, hell they spent years crashing with whichever input was in favour at the time in between them sharing crummy apartments that made V’s look like a palace. Kerry had clearly matured in the last 54 years, not jumping on every dick that was waved his way, taking his time, Johnny had to admit he was kinda proud of him. Course the reason could just be that he’s got a different guy in his bed every night, but he wasn’t ready to drop that idea into V’s already swirling mind.

“You’re right V, Kerry is a walking contradiction, fun as hell, annoying as fuck, kinda sweet, worse temper than mine, wanting people close, then pushing them away,” Johnny sighs and looks at his boots, “he likes you, but he’s scared.”

V snorts, “Scared? Of what?”

Looking earnestly into V’s incredulous eyes, “Of me mostly I guess,” Johnny sighs.

-

V had seen, through Johnny’s memories, the almost passionately tempestuous relationship the two rockers had. The love they had for each other was obvious, but whereas Kerry’s was partly based on lust and intrigue, Johnny’s was arguably purer, based on friendship and a genuine care for the other man, not that he would ever have admitted any of this at the time.

Despite this, or maybe because of it, Johnny spent the majority of his friendship with Kerry, either leading him on, letting him down or damning his choices in everything from inputs to managers to life choices and beyond. The thing that always united them was music and when they couldn’t even do that together any more their relationship was over, though the love remained.

Johnny had come out of it relatively unscathed, didn’t expect anything from anyone, didn’t get it. Right up to the end he never wished that he’d done anything different. Only that Kerry hadn’t been such a pussy and had carried on making music with him.

Kerry wasn’t so lucky, even in the early days he would go out of his way to impress Johnny in any way he could, a riff, stolen booze, a new high. As tensions rose between them it was more fun to antagonize him, maybe with an input that hated Johnny’s guts, or by ending up with a successful solo career without him. With Johnny gone, Kerry came to realise that a fair portion of his own personality had only been there as a reaction to his rejection by Silverdyne and it took him years of self-examination and intrusive psychological intervention to build himself back up to the seemingly confident, self-assured presence you got today.

“You remind him of me, and he can’t afford to let me back into his head, he’s not strong enough to go through it again.”

V pondered Johnny’s seemingly wise words, but he wasn’t so sure that the famous Silverdyne ego wasn’t mostly what he was hearing.

“Mhm, maybe,” is all he said.

-

V decided to take on a couple of gigs to get him through another sleepless night. The first was a straightforward extraction, neutralise the goons, rescue the kidnapped woman, didn’t even need to engage his brain much. After the car had taken the victim back to her family, V sat on the kerb and let Johnny smoke a cigarette.

V looks at the spec for the next gig, “You’re fucking shitting me,” he mutters under his breath.

“That’s.....yeah,” agrees Johnny.

-

They arrive at the swanky apartment building in The Glen and sit in the Porsche for a moment looking up at the Penthouse, the target for the gig.

“So, how you gonna handle this?”

“Disable the cameras, hack the door protocols, finagle the strong-room lock, find the gear, klep the gear, swift exit.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Eh, I’ll deal with the rest later.”

V was right, the apartment’s security held no surprises and had no chance against someone with his skill set. The target was in a secured room behind a pass-code protected door, it took a bit of deduction work from them both but they figured it out, klepped the goods, accidentally swiped a few other things just lying around and deltaed.

Back in the car the rocker looks at the merc with a raised eyebrow,

“So, what now?”

V chewed on his bottom lip, pondering his options,

“Take it to the drop off point I guess.”

Johnny slaps his hand on the dashboard in frustration – or at least tries to – “Seriously V, this is exactly the excuse you need, stop being a pussy and sort your shit out.”

V sulks, but knows that Johnny is annoyingly right, “’Kay,” he says sullenly and sets off for North Oak.

Pulling up to Kerry’s drive, V is surprised to find that his metrics have been recognised by the security systems, and the Samurai mask emblazoned gates swing smoothly open to let him in. Johnny pointedly does not look over his glasses in a told-you-so manner, though he really wants to.

Kerry is already standing in the doorway as the Porsche glides down the drive. He’s dressed casually in jeans and an old sweater, looking god-like even so, thinks V. In a moment of blind panic, the merc wonders why he’s come, what’s he supposed to say to this amazing man who probably doesn’t want him here anyway? Too late now, turning round and leaving would make him seem a real gonk, so he slaps on his best shy smile and gets out of the car.

“Never can get over seeing his car again,” purrs Kerry running his fingertips over the roof. V’s cheeks darken as he imagines where else that feather light touch could be used. “We had some preem times in there, travelling to gigs, sleeping it off after, heh. What brings you to Casa Del Kerry V?”

V swallows, “Erm, so I just got off a gig and, well not just... maybe an hour ago, and there was this guy, I mean he wasn’t there but he lived there, shit...”

“Calm down kid,” reassures Kerry chuckling, “deep breath, and... go!”

Nervous of tying his tongue in knots again and making an even bigger gonk of himself, V opens the passenger door of the Porsche and reaches behind the seat to grab what’s there, offering it to Kerry with an outstretched arm.

“Shit V, you found it!” Kerry takes the offered guitar and runs his fingers down the fret board, “There is nothing like the sound of the fucking Orphean, nothing comes close. I knew you were the man for the job...”

Kerry pauses as if he’s let out a secret, “Oops.”

“I fucking knew it,” smirks Johnny.

“So, it was you. You’re the one who posted the job? Why the assumed name? Wh...I mean, sheesh.”

“Come in out of the rain and I’ll try to explain, drink?”

“Sure, bourbon?”

“Sure,”

Kerry fixes their drinks and finds space on the couch for them both, tinkling V’s ice to invite him over. “Come sit next to Kerry,” he says brightly, tapping the seat next to him.

V happily complies, taking the drink and humming in surprise and satisfaction as Kerry’s arm is draped over his shoulders and his finger traces the line of his tattoo as he speaks,

“Thing is V, it’s the only way I could think of to get you here, you never asked to come, never invited me to your place, didn’t even know if you were interested...”

“Shit, Ker. I would’ve been over in a heartbeat if you’d’ve asked, I didn’t think you wanted me to come.”

The tension on both their faces finally cracks, Kerry looks at floor shaking his head and smiling with relief, and V throws his head back, laughing at what a gonk they’ve both been.

“How did you know it was me who’d take the gig, to bring the guitar I mean?”

“I didn’t, but I’ve had a ton of shit klepped over the years and knew that eventually you’d be the one to find it, plus, Rogue owes me a favour so...”

_

Johnny materialises at the end of the bar determined to give V some ‘told you so’ type crap. He slides his glasses to the end of his nose and looks over them at V’s hand resting on Kerry’s thigh, at the arm pulling the merc in close, at the way their eyes linger. “Jeez, I’m not up for watching this shit again.” he complains as he disappears earning a smirk from the luckiest merc in NC.

[melted-mercury]

I'm torn between wanting to steal the name of another planet and not wanting to like. incur the wrath of the Roman gods. what do I do

[melted-mercury]

NTs understand hierarchies

NDs understand that they are bullshit

[bloodheartz]

Misc. Medic TF2 Headcanon Post

Because I have so many opinions on this silly silly man.

Just heads up I’m not going to be sharing any of my more serious headcanons in this post ^^

Narcissist who experiences mild psychotic delusions and before you say anything I have NPD and experience delusions, this isn’t me stereotyping him because he’s a mad scientist it’s me projecting onto a middle aged man.

Now for an actual explanation I think we can all agree there’s more than enough evidence that Medic has a strong god complex. That doesn’t inherently make him a Narcissist but that as well as his personality and how he interacts with the other mercs is what swayed me.

His internal thought process, especially during battle greatly reflects this. His role in the fight is not to serve and tend to your needs, your role is to protect and serve his current goals. And yes he is very vocal about what he believes your priorities are and how bad of a job he thinks you’re doing. Gets himself in a twist whenever anyone disagrees with his vision on what the team should be tactically be doing.

As for the delusions it’s like 90% me projecting sorry bout that I don’t really have an explanations.

Also autistic king, look at that man and tell me he’s allistic. You can’t. First thing he did after bringing a man back to life was infodump to him about his great achievements. Autistic Narcissist Icon.

Okay now onto completely random headcanons that bounce around in my brain live a DVD player logo

Despite being a muscular 6ft tall man and fall and winter being his favorite time of the year, he cannot stand the cold at all. It gets a little chilly outside and he’s bundled up like he’s gone mountain climbing.

Also generally runs cold, and that (along with just wanting to dress professionally) is why he wears so many layers regularly

Casually I one hundred percent believe he’s a button ups and sweaters/sweater vests guy. He has a bunch of fun collar clips to go with his outfits though, like a wing design, maybe a few with human organ designs.

Also think he enjoys some leather clothing, specifically jackets, boots, and maybe certain types of hats (specifically Scally Caps and Searchers). I could go more into depth on this but that’s for another post ;)

Enjoys drinking, especially beer. That being said he cannot hold his drinks easily. He’ll be one pint in and as drunk as Demo. When the team goes out for drinks they have to deal with him being a giggly mess over half the time.

Spends a lot of his free time with Heavy. Usually quietly reading together in the common area sharing thoughts on their book of choice, playing chess, or even just having gentle conversation, even if sometimes the gentle conversation is in the middle of some ludicrous invasive procedure.

Also cooking and baking for the team together, though that’s less often.

He loves his doves so so so so much you guys. He lets them free roam around the infirmary, and sometimes takes some of them to the common areas on base. He could tell stories about them, rant about proper caring techniques, and just share general information on doves and pigeons for hours, wether asked or not.

Archimedes is his favorite though he’d never admit that out loud.

Oops now I have archimedes on the brain alright bonus archimedes headcanon tangent

He is a horrible horrible little bird (affectionate)

Very territorial and just a very “attitudy” bird. The kind of pet that acts like the world is ending the moment you stop showering them with attention and affection.

Very curious about whatever procedure Medic is doing. “Oh you’re looking inside this person? I better hop in there too!”

Ludwig is of course his favorite person, but I think he would like Misha a lot as well. Flying over the land on his head or shoulder whenever he comes into the infirmary.

He pecks though. The only way he greets people he likes is by a strong strike from his beak.

[ferusaurelius]

Get to know your fanfic writer!

I was tagged by @callista-curations and actually got to the end of the week with a bit of energy for once, so... here we go. ;)

When did you post your first ever fanfic?

The first EVER was on ff.net probably around 2000-2004? For a friend, for an obscure show nobody's heard of. My first fic I posted for myself was 2020.

First Character(s) you wrote?

I actually wrote original characters in the Mass Effect fandom. My short thought experiment on machine translation.

Main Character(s) you’re currently writing?

Nihlus Kryik, David Anderson, Commander Rentola

Character(s) you haven’t written about before but plan to write about soon?

Nyreen Kandros, Ashley Williams. Though they might take a bit since I'm still kinda marinating on what I want to do there.

Fandom(s) you’re currently writing?

Mass Effect! Hyperfixation fandom, go! (I write meta posts for Our Flag Means Death, but do not intend to write fic.)

Platonic pairing(s) you’re currently writing?

Commander Rentola and Ashley Williams

Romantic pairing(s) you’re currently writing?

Nihlus Kryik/Saren Arterius, David Anderson/Saren Arterius (yep!).

Your top AO3 tags?

Romantic Comedy (LOL). Good job, barfics!

Current platform you use for posting?

AO3. I've read a bunch of fic for different fandoms over the years and I'm pleased to be able to contribute when I have the energy.

Snippet of the WIP you are currently working on?

So bar!fics are going to have a long!fic sequel. Keep in mind I AM A SLOW WRITER with multiple wips, to the point where the 'easy' one-shots get published first.

I'm not sure about POV or pacing, but it'll be in a different voice and tone than the originals and have actual mission-oriented plot and some developing relationship stuff.

If you don't want spoilers, I've put it below the cut. ;)

This is a Very Rough high-level outline of a fragment of the entire plot, because my 'other' current WIP is maybe gonna be a nano project. I have various wip possibilities dueling it out for my attention and will see you in December. xD

Normally I would tag a few people to play (and if you feel like playing and you are reading this, IT IS YOU WHO IS TAGGED xD), but specifics are beyond my brain tonight.

Outline time~

Saren entertains Nihlus with his own history and experience of the Skyllian Verge, as well as being a sort of guide to the full intelligence picture, as he understands it.

Nihlus (with a snap of intuition) puts together that something bigger and more urgent than Saren thinks is happening or likely to happen, and it makes him restless and want to investigate immediately, because what if his intuition is right?

Saren insists that Nihlus should go as soon as his ankle’s recovered. He has his own authority.

Nihlus declines to ‘rush’ into something and presents an alternative of walking Saren through his process and treats this as a getting-to-know you thought exercise to keep Saren distracted from how fucking miserable the detox process is.

Saren and Nihlus together, working the problem over food and no access to other sources of information beyond what they can recall, come up with a terrible plan.

Nihlus can infiltrate the merc group by having a public falling-out with Saren.

Saren can get sent to hunt down “Rogue Spectre” Nihlus in the Verge.

Nihlus treats this seriously and starts workshopping different options while Saren is getting increasingly agitated about the whole concept of the frame-up.

Saren: I can’t ask you to do this.

Nihlus: Fine, you’re not asking. I’m volunteering.

Saren: I don’t know if I can let you do this.

Nihlus: It’s my decision.

Saren: -can’t dispute this, even if he doesn’t like it-

Saren: -eventually agrees, though he doesn’t like it-

Saren: Alternatives.

They come up with others that have less advantage in discretion, timing, or access.

Saren is forced to admit that Nihlus’s idea about infiltrating a group directly is the best one, since it allows them the most flexibility in cover story and depth of access. Plus, Nihlus is marked.

Saren: I’ve never asked.

Nihlus: -tells him-

Nihlus: What are you going to need for your part to work?

Saren: You, eyes open, and no hesitation. Trust me to manage my end no matter what you hear or what happens.

Nihlus: -kinda loves this about Saren- With my life.

Saren: It may come to that.

Nihlus: We’ll worry about that when it happens.

It will happen.

Saren: A better medical regimen.

Nihlus: I’ve never asked.

Saren: -tells him-

... and that's all you get to see for now. xD Be intrigued! Be very intrigued. If you can guess what canon event this is gonna be AU for, you get bonus points. ;)

[some-pers0n]

Two things.

Number one, I'm here from your science party fic and oh my GOD? I adore how you wrote all of the mercs, especially Medic! He's a wonderful balance of silly, scary, and just...Generally unhinged. Wonderful. Amazing. Mwah. Thank you sm for feeding my science party brain.

Number two. I saw your ship post about them and the option to ask abt others. Taking you up on that,,,, what're the other tf2 ships you enjoy? Infodumping can get draining so dont sweat it if you dont want yk: I'm just curious!

!! Thank you so much!! I love writing all of the mercs so much,, and with Medic I put 110% of my effort and energy into  making him the manic and eccentric maniac that I know and love. What a little goofball. Same with the others. They're all so much fun to write with their wacky personalities and such. I'm glad I was able to give something to the other Science Party fans and make more propaganda for the ship. <3

Now for the ships. I've got a lot of neutral opinion, but I'll just ramble about some that I like quite a bit in particular, namely Red Oktoberfest, Sniper/Spy, Speeding Bullet, Napoleon Complex, Boots N' Bombs, etc. They're not going to be nearly as in-depth as with my Science Party ramble, but I just like em'.

Now, onto the others. I really like Red Oktoberfest. It's like Science Party, though I wouldn't say Heavy is nearly as unhinged as Engie. It's sweet and nice, but I prefer Science Party over it just because I prefer Medic and Engie's dynamic. Still really nice. I also love reading that one 13k word essay on Ao3 that goes into detail on all of the content on it every now and then.

Speeding Bullet is another one I like. I like the two of them just being together and goofing around. They truly are the ADHD vs Autism ship. I do like Sniper's more collected attitude and Scout's rambunctious behavior and the two of them butting heads. The ship also reminds me of how Sniper is only four years older than Scout, which is wild to me. I always think of him in his late thirties as opposed to being like...26 when he first meets the team.

In a similar vein, I like Sniper/Spy. I can see the two of them bickering with each other because of the other's lifestyle (Sniper throws jars at people and lives in a van while Spy is French), but overall having some sort of respect for each other because of their professionalism. They do care about each other, even if they don't like saying it.

Boots N' Bombs is a classic. I love how Valve just created an entire update and so much content for these two. They work really quite well together. It's amazing how well their personalities compliment each other and there's plenty of room for both humor and angst. They're really just neat.

Napoleon Complex is just neat. I like it. I find their personalities clash, but really match on another. Engie's laid-back and hardworking salt-of-the-earth nature and Spy's more up-tight and professional vibe is just nice.

Again, most of these I see as being platonic. I do like considering and watching others portray them as romantic, but I overall see them all as close friends. I've got a lot of writing ideas on all of those ships though.

Pyro I don't really ship with anybody mostly because I see them as That Guy. Not exactly a little sibling or somebody who can't feel love or show emotion, but I can't really...see them as ever being involved with anybody romantically. I am an unlabeled any-pronouns single Pyro fan. They just wanna be friends and have a tea party with the whole team.

But, now I suppose is the time where I let the two ships that've spawned from the depths of my psyche out onto the world. I should mention that I'm a delusional fanfic writer, meaning I that when I see a character, my first thought would be how they would react to another character. This is how you get rarepairs, folks.

With that being said, I like Merasmus & Medic and Pauling/Bronislava.

I'm not going to elaborate further.

[ramblinganthropologist]

Writober 2023 27 and 28 Beast and Sparkle

Summary: So... who's the scarier Hawke? Two lucky mercs share stories and drinks one night at the Hanged Man, not realizing it's literally the worst place to do it.

---

Another day, another drink at the Hanged Man.

A rather pathetic group of mercenaries found themselves nursing both drinks and wounds at one of the old, cracked tables that made up the sitting area of Lowtown's most famous tavern. While none of them looked to be close to death, it wasn't looking great for any of them to say the least.

"What the fuck happened to you, Samha?" A man with a bandage over one eye was attempting to grab his worn mug with his new lack of depth perception - he missed twice before he managed to grab it. "You look like you got chewed up by a giant mabari and spit into the gutter."

Samha, his right arm heavily bandaged and in a sling, snorted as he tried to grab at his mug with his non-dominant hand - he managed it, but it wasn't easy either. "You're one to talk. Last I checked, you had two eyes."

"I still got it, it's just injured." The man took a heavy sip at his drink, a sulk in his tone. "It was that half-elf bitch and her giant blood mage buddy. She came at me like a fucking hurricane. One minute I'm standing there, the next I'm flat on my ass."

The mention of 'half-elf bitch' was enough to make the tavern go silent. Anyone there looked at their drinks like they were the most fascinating things in the world. Even Samha lost some bravado at his companion's words. Clearly, it wasn't a fun topic around the Hanged Man.

"You too, huh..." he sipped at his mug. "What she do to you, Mikael?"

Mikael grimaced as he put down his mug. "What didn't she do... it was a couple days ago, just a normal job..."

---

That night, there was no moon. It was the perfect setup for a break-in.

Mikael and his two companions were in the midst of finishing up. The Hightown home had been empty except for some easily incapacitated servants. Nobody died, but it was going to be tough to untie those knots later. Didn't matter to him - he'd gotten what he needed in order to pull off the job and get in.

His bag was heavy with the stolen statue as he lowered himself from the window and onto the floor. His companions had already left, making their way to the safe house so they could stash the goods until they could hand them off the next night. He was headed there himself, a spring in his step as he started to walk.

Then he heard the sound of something wet hitting the ground.

"Man, you guys are stupid." A low growl of  voice accompanied a second splat. "I live right down the fucking street, are you really dumb enough to try that?"

"Nobody ever said they had brains."

An even deeper voice chimed in, and a shiver ran up Mikael's spine as he glanced around the corner. Much to his horror, his companions were laid out flat. From where he stood, he couldn't see if they were alive or dead. Given the blood, dead was more likely than not.

It was a disappointment to lose such a good lock picker... but he wasn't going to face down with whoever killed them. Instead, he started to take an alternate route, practically running in the case whoever had attacked the other two men heard them. He was pretty sure he hadn't been seen... he should be safe.

He thought that... but then a fist found his gut.

"This one's not stupid, he's just a coward with no sense of companionship." A small hand with sharpened nails grabbed him by the collar and lifted him up. "You just gonna leave your friends like that?"

He realized he was held up by a small... well, he wasn't sure of the gender. Long hair could mean anything in Kirkwall, and the lack of tits could just mean they were young. It would fit the height, but... something about those glowing blue eyes half hidden by mussed hair made him think otherwise.

Then they smiled and he saw the fucking teeth.

Fuck. It was Hawke.

"I..." He didn't get to answer - the smaller Hawke threw him down. Thanks to that, he got a great view of the other Hawke. He was famous for his fancy dress and shiny head, but more importantly for being able to use your fucking blood against you. How he wasn't in the Gallows getting the brand was lost among the underbelly of Kirkwall, but none were dumb enough to ask it. After all, most didn't live long enough to try it.

"Good thing we waited for them." His deep voice rumbled over the alley. "So... what are we going to do with him?"

The small Hawke came up, hand on the hilt of her famous short sword. "Aveline's got a bounty on these three. We could turn them in..."

"You know she won't pay us for it, we're banned."

Mikael swallowed hard as he glanced from Hawke to Hawke. They seemed distracted by the argument over whether or not to turn him in. He took that moment to scramble to his feet and draw the sword from his side. His hands shook as lunged forward, hoping to catch at least one with a cheap shot.

His big mistake was catching the small Hawke on the arm.

"Oww!" She hissed as blood dripped down her arm - he hadn't gotten her any more than a flesh wound. Then he watched as she smirked and her eyes seemed to sparkle as a ring of red surrounded them. "Oh... that was a big mistake, buddy. You're gonna regret that."

The next thing he knew, Mikael was flat on his back, face in agony from where something had crossed the left side of his face. Blood was pouring down his face, and the small Hawke loomed above him. Her blood dripped onto his face as she smirked at him - fuck, her teeth were sharp.

"Think I can bite his head off, Moses?"

Her voice had a growl to it - mercs who had survived it warned this was what happened when the smaller Hawke's reaver abilities were activated. Unfortunately for him, pain made her stronger and even more unhinged. He could practically see his death in her eyes as she leaned down, teeth aiming for his neck.

"We just did laundry, don't get his blood everywhere."

Big Hawke's low voice drew her back. That was enough for Mikael - he scrambled to his feet and ran for his fucking life. He didn't even pause to look back to see if they were chasing him. Hightown became Lowtown before he even thought to breathe, sliding against the wall.

His face was still bleeding... but he was alive.

---

"Shit, you're lucky you got out of that alive."

Mikael allowed for a shaky nod as he drank from his mug. "The healer at the chantry patched me up. I said it was a work injury. Don't think they believed me, but you know they don't like the Hawkes any more than we do."

His hand still shook as he put down the mug. "She was going to bite my fucking head off, Samha. I could see it in her fucking eyes. She's a demon."

He wouldn't have even been the first if the rumors were to be believed. Plenty of mercs who had survived the Hawkes had what looked like bite marks on various parts of their body. They weren't dog bites to say the least, not even the smallest mabari had a mouth like that. It would've fit her though...

Fuck.

"The big one isn't much better..." Samha took a shaky drink of his mug before he put it down with a slight splash. "He seems all calm, but he's a monster too... he's just cleaner about it."

Mikael cocked his visible eyebrow at that. "Really? Seems like he reigns that little gremlin in. I know he's a blood mage, but... how bad can he be other than that?"

Samha let out a shaky laugh as he looked over his mug at his companion. "How about he broke my arm with his fucking blood magic..."

He took another shaky breath. "It was about a week ago... you know I used to work with the Blood Pack, right?"

---

Another night, another gig.

Samha sat inside the entrance to the Blood Pack's hideout, sighing as he attempted to clean his spear. Somehow, he had pulled the short straw and wound up on guard duty while his fellow mercs were off doing jobs that would get them paid far better than he would be. Instead of excitement and riches, he had... a dark room and a spear that refused to get clean.

And here he thought being a mercenary was supposed to be a thrilling job. Maybe he would've been better off staying as a fisherman back at the docks... at least then he could sleep at night.

"They should've been back by now..." He frowned as he held his spear tip up to the candlelight to check it - there was still dried blood on the groove. "Damn it... I've been scrubbing that for fifteen minutes."

He would've gone for fifteen more, but the sound of approaching footsteps drew his attention. From the sound of things, his fellow mercs were coming back from their job. No doubt they would be smug about the money they had made and the guards they had either avoided or killed... the bragging would start, the drinks would flow...

And an unconscious man hit the ground like a sack of bricks.

"What the..."

Samha jumped to his feet, readying his spear. Thanks to where he was sitting, he got to see the people who had entered the room. There was a dwarf with a crossbow, an elf with a huge sword, and a large man holding a staff. No, there were two - a small figure was perched on his shoulders, leaning on his bald head.

Fuck. It was the Hawkes.

"Man, this place is a dump. I thought the Blood Pack would at least spring for more light sources." The little gremlin looked down at her ride. "Can you see ok, Moses? You're the only one who doesn't have night vision."

The big guy shook his head, taking his companion for the ride. "I'm fine."

He turned to face Samha. "They must be cocky if the only person guarding this place is one merc with a spear."

"Yeah, the way the last guy made it sound was like half the gang be here." The gremlin looked at him. "Anyone hiding, or are you the only one holding down the fort?"

Samha didn't answer - the last thing they needed to know was that he was the only one there. Instead, he got into fighting position, spear at the ready. They didn't need to see the sweat dripping down from his brow, or how his hands shook around the shaft of his spear. He was a Blood Pack merc, and they fought to the death.

So the only thing he could do was swing forward, aiming for the big guy because he was the easiest target. There was a splash of blood as he made contact, but it wasn't much - he had been trying to skewer the guy, but he had just scratched him. It was still a decent amount of blood that splashed him in the face as he passed by and wheeled around to stab again.

Then he couldn't move.

"That was dumb." The big Hawke's eyes were glowing red, and blood circled around his outstretched hand. Fuck, he had forgotten the guy was a blood mage - he had just given him ammo. "Where's the key?"

Samha grimaced as he tried to wrest control of his arm away from the man's magic, but he found himself powerless. The big Hawke had gotten in through a cut on his arm he hadn't even noticed. He knew enough about blood mages to realize just how fucked he was now - there wasn't many ways to break control.

But he struggled, nonetheless.

"Fuck off, I'm not telling you." He kept trying to free his arm. "You're going to have to kill me first."

It was bravado- even he knew it. Samha was fucking terrified to die, especially at the hands of a blood mage. But it was all he had left. If he gave up the key to the Blood Pack's stores, that was it for him. If the Hawkes and their companions didn't kill him, then his fellow mercs would.

So, he might as well die by the blood mage than his own crew.

The big Hawke's face was unreadable as he processed the words. "I'd rather not... but..."

Then he moved his hand forward, snapping his hand. A resounding crack rang out through the room as Samha's arm bent in a way it never should have, then again. The bone broke like it was made of paper, and pain shot through his body as he screamed and dropped to his knees.

"So, where's the key, big guy?"

The gremlin had climbed down from the big Hawke's shoulders and was standing by him. Samha was afraid to even talk lest he throw up as tears poured from his eyes. He couldn't even hold his broken arm thanks to the continued hold the blood mage had over him. At least he had allowed him to drop.

"Fine, might as well put these pickpocket skills to the test." Her small hands were soon rifling through his pockets and he couldn't do a thing about it. She found the key in his back pocket, pulling it out with a grin. "Here it is! You can let him go, Moses, the guy's about to piss himself."

"I'll let him go after we get what we're looking for." The big Hawke brushed past him, his gremlin climbing back onto his shoulder as he drew close. "Thanks for your cooperation."

Samha was left to sit there, pain racing through his body as his base was raided. When the other mercs got back, he was done for. Even if his dominant arm hadn't been injured, there was no way he was going to survive giving up the base to the Hawkes. At least he wouldn't have to worry about his arm healing - he'd be lucky if he saw daylight.

---

"Fuck, he broke your arm?"

Samha nodded as he glanced at his bandaged arm. "The healer said it's a toss-up if I'll be able to use it normally once it heals up. It was one of the worst breaks they've seen."

Mikael winced as he drank from his mug. "How the hell did you survive that one? I thought the Blood Pack killed anyone who went against them?"

"That's where I got lucky... the rest of the gang is dead." He shook his head. "They killed them after they got jumped. It's why they came by. I'm the only one left."

Which... probably made him the leader. Not much good being the leader of a dead gang with nothing to their name. Maybe he would try to go on the straight and narrow...

"Fuck, talk about a close call." Mikael shook his head. "Those two are fucking monsters. I'm surprised the chantry hasn't tried to put them down like rabid dogs."

It would do the underbelly of Kirkwall a favor...

At any rate, the two of them had survived their interactions with the feared Hawke duo. Most mercs in Kirkwall couldn't say that much. The pyres in the chantry blazed with the remains of those who weren't so lucky, their bounties unclaimed at the hall. It wasn't easy being a merc in Kirkwall, especially if you pissed them off.

"I'm not sure which is worse. The big one's got that cold calculation, but I don't want my head bitten off." Mikael shuddered. "Have you seen those teeth?"

Samha nodded, grimacing. "I'd take the teeth over getting my body taken over by that psycho again. He almost seemed to enjoy having control over me. At least with her she bites you and it's over."

"I'd rather not get mauled by a demon, give me the body snatching any day." The one-eyed man shuddered. "Maybe we should mention the blood magic to the Templars... they're supposed to handle that, right?"

"Please, they're all cowardly pieces of shit. Besides, they're lazy. Taking out Moses means they'd have to do their fucking jobs."

A new voice, low and annoyingly chipper, drew both men's attention. Their hearts caught in their throat as they watched a small figure approach, mug in hand. The little Hawke perched on the chair neither of them had occupied, taking a long sip from her mug before she settled it down with a grin.

And there were those teeth.

"Fuck!" Mikael almost jumped back. "You here to fucking finish the job?!"

Hawke shook her head as she leaned back. "I came to get a drink after work. Not my fault I heard you talking shit about me while I was at the bar."

She paused, taking a sip of her mug. "And not much point, I can't claim your bounty even if I turn you in. You're being a good boy right now, so I think I'll just let you sit there in your piss."

"Sounds good to me."

A large figure took the other seat next to her. Big Hawke was there too, drink in hand. Fuck, he nodded at Samha as he drank from it, face unreadable. His eyes glittered through - he was watching the pair like his namesake. Mikael wasn't the only one about to piss himself to say the least.

"You already took everything from the Blood Pack, I don't have anything left..." Samha's voice shook as he held his good arm back so it didn't also get broken. "Why..."

Big Hawke shrugged. "Came to pick Avery up from work."

"It's not safe for a young woman in Kirkwall at night after all." Little Hawke snickered like she wasn't the reason the streets were that way as she drank from her mug. "So no worries, we're just customers here. Customers that happened to hear we were the subject of conversation."

She was smiling, but her eyes weren't friendly. She was ready and almost begging for a fight. It was only the fact they hadn't started anything that was keeping them safe at the moment. If they made one wrong move, it was going to be a bloodbath. Worst of all, nobody would care in the Hanged Man.

Little Hawke looked at her friend as she drank from her mug, tipping it back to get the last bits of the Hanged Man's finest awful ale. "Personally, I wouldn't want to fuck with your blood magic."

"I know where your teeth have been, no thanks." Big Hawke finished his drink as well, placing the empty mug on the table. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah, I'm beat." She grinned at Samha and Mikael. "Nice chatting with you guys. Try to keep your noses clean~!"

Her voice took on a sing-song tone as she hopped onto Big Hawke's shoulders. He grabbed the empty mugs and returned them to the bar, then they left. The tension in the air remained though as the two at the table finally were able to breathe. They shared a shaky look, sweat dripping down their faces.

No doubt about it... they got lucky. Maybe going back to legitimate work when their wounds healed up wasn't such a bad idea after all...

[mtreebeardiles]

Chasing Storms, pt 8

Interlude III: Before (Rogue) also on AO3!

The Afterlife was known for having its fair share of interesting characters.

Part and parcel for the sort of biz conducted in its converted halls and backrooms, and the fact most of Night City was under lockdown after the attack on Arasaka didn't impact its patronage any. Harsher regulation as to whom gained access, additional security measures in place for all none of the Afterlife Mercs claimed responsibility for the havoc wreaked on 'Saka's systems, but Rogue hadn't lived as long as she had by getting careless. 

So even with the true culprit safely hidden away with the Nomads, she kept the vetting system strict as a matter of course while the city adjusted to its new normal. 

Left us a lotta fires to put out, kid. But she couldn't deny that she was impressed with what V had pulled off: a solo attack on the tower, so far as she could tell, accepting this unlikeliest scenario as the truth given how pissed off all his friends were. Panam had been all but spitting nails when Rogue reached out to her and the Aldecaldos, demanding to know what the fuck V had been thinking charging in there all on his own when he'd known he could've called on them for help. 

His reasons weren't of immediate interest to Rogue, though, and she'd endured an impressive twenty minutes of Panam's hot air before finally losing her patience and asking if the girl and her clan were still willing to help him in the aftermath. 

An immediate yes, a few more calls, and Rogue had learned the crazy son of a bitch hadn't called a single damn soul for help before running what should have been a fucking suicide mission all by himself. Johnny, she'd long since deduced, did not count as support -- moral or otherwise, though she had to wonder how much of it had been his idea. 

Never thought you'd go after Smasher without me. It stung for some reason, even though logic told her it was best to let it go. Smasher was dead, Johnny was gone, and V…

V still wasn't responding the last time she'd seen him. 

No way to know what he'd encountered in that tower, what he'd found in its depths. No way to know how he'd made it as far as he had, how he'd hacked into one of the most secure access points in the City -- hell, probably the most secure in the country -- nor any way to guess how he'd crawled his way back out again. Broken, bloodied, what few words he'd had left calling out for a ghost that was no longer there… 

Then nothing. 

No words, no recognition, gaze turned inward, unresponsive to voices, to touch. Hollowed out and empty, save for the fact that his brain was still showing signs of activity and his heart was still beating. 

Rogue had seen plenty of fucked up shit in her years as a solo, as a fixer. But that sight had unnerved her, stuck with her, and maybe it was all the threads that connected them together -- threads originating, of course, from Johnny -- but enough of it was just…V. His honesty, the way he held his principles without turning them into platitudes to preach at others, and she hadn't been lying when she'd said it'd been easy to tell the difference between him and Johnny. V's face wasn't meant to smirk like that, and for all the kid was tough as nails she felt confident in concluding he hadn't a mean-spirited bone in his body. Maybe spite, but it was spite that had to be earned first, and nothing approaching what Johnny had been capable of harboring.

Unusual, for a merc. Potentially fatal. 

He just made it work.

She resettled in her booth, fresh glass in hand, and gazed out at those gathered at the bar, at the high-tops, huddled in the other booths. Wondered if he even knew how often his name fell from their lips, how many mutual contacts had asked her if she knew anything about where he was, if he was even alive. No direct connection between 'Saka and V and she made damn sure it stayed that way, but the kid had been crafting his own legend all along that broken, jagged path he'd walked. Made good with more than one fixer, direct requests for his services ticking up the more work he did around the City, and she could only shake her head at how short-sighted Dex had been to try and waste such incredible talent just to save his own ass. 

Karma, at least, was still a bitch.

And he did it all with that clock counting down, every single day, getting sicker and sicker. Maybe tenacity was tempered by not having much left to lose, or maybe he just was tenacious. Had never stopped chasing a solution, grit and determination unblinking against impossible odds and maybe that's what disturbed her the most about his current condition:

It seemed too much like giving up, when she'd been convinced that concept wasn't in his vocabulary.

Slowly the City began to recover from its shock. Lockdowns lifted section by section though the threat of reinstatement hung over all their heads. But people were getting out again, the streets filling with traffic pedestrian and vehicular, gangoons and mercs and working folk alike easing back into an approximation of how things used to be. Heavier NCPD presence, tensions running higher than ever, everyone wondering when the next shoe was going to drop. Too hard to believe that 'Saka's infrastructure had been all but decimated, their subnet in the City shredded, and Rogue couldn't exactly blame them. It was harder to see the scope of the damage in real space, the ruins of their 'Net not as immediately impactful as a smoking crater where a tower had once stood, especially since the tower was still there this time around. It hadn't felt like a terrorist attack the way it had back in '23, and only the most perceptive of 'runners could appreciate how devasting the blow had been. 

But there were other things, other hints that all was not well beyond rumors and the heightened security presence. More funding shifting towards Militech fed whispers of oncoming war, of an opportunity to strike while their greatest rival was down, threats of drafts and the fallout of another Corpo war enough to keep even regular citizens on edge. 

Needless to say she anticipated an uptick in work for mercs and solos, and the amount of jobs flowing through the Afterlife in the weeks after was enough to prove her right. The bar's capacity swelled back to what it had been before, though most of the security remained, and so it was that Emmerick contacted her directly when an unexpected guest arrived nearly a month after the attack. 

"Got a rockerboy here to see you."

Rogue frowned, setting aside her glass with a sigh. 

"I'll be right there."

Maybe it shouldn't have been such a surprise, really, to find Kerry Eurodyne on her doorstep. He'd called her right after the attack, after all, had reached out for her help, eddies in hand, and she didn't doubt some of their own shared history had played a part in that. Still, she hadn't seen much of him since, no contact beyond sending her the money owed for arranging care and transport for V, and she wasn't entirely sure why he was here now. 

Rogue didn't like being in the dark, and uncertainty made her cranky. 

"Come with me," she said by way of greeting once she'd found him at the club entrance. Didn't comment on how he looked like shit, like he hadn't been sleeping much, tension obvious in the way he held himself. Didn't remark that the sunglasses only hid so much and he was still pretty recognizable with that chrome at his throat, with those rings on his fingers, but maybe he wasn't actually trying to hide.

Maybe he was just hungover, and the glasses helped manage the light. 

She didn't take him back to her usual booth all the same, opting instead for one of the smaller, private rooms in the lower basement. Even if he wasn't trying to keep people from recognizing him, she had a feeling whatever they needed to discuss would be a conversation better had somewhere with less eyes and ears on them. 

He didn't say anything as he followed after her, silent still as he settled in one of the chairs and waited for her to claim the other seat. She set her glass down on the table and crossed one leg over the other, examining him for a moment. He didn't look any better in this light, face drawn and tight, and her guess about a hangover seemed right on the mark when he winced upon taking the glasses off. 

But he didn't put them back on, instead hooking them in the collar of his shirt before he leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees. 

"Was wondering if I could hire your services again," he began, voice rougher than she remembered. Kerry'd always had a natural rasp to his voice, but this was deeper, more tired, hoarse in a way that suggested a tight throat holding back all the things he really wanted to say but couldn't. 

"Depends on what, and how much it'll run you," she replied. And, because she couldn’t seem to help herself, she added, "is this about…V?"

A nod, and Kerry huffed out a sigh. 

"Got some tips about a…procedure. A treatment, that…that might help him?"

"Like a shrink?"

"Not his mental state," the man clarified. "The Relic is um… it's still killing him." 

Rogue felt coldness settle in her gut even as she frowned. 

"Thought we already confirmed -- Johnny's gone, so why…?"

But Kerry was shaking his head, running a set of fingers through his hair. "It was pretty advanced, by the time he did…whatever the fuck he did, to get Johnny out. Nanites or some shit, I'm not too clear on the jargon, but… it's still overwriting him. Still deteriorating…" Kerry trailed off, words locked away again, and Rogue didn't push. Her own thoughts were racing, flicking through her connections, her contacts, determined that there was something there, some resource…

"He knew."

Kerry's whisper, interrupting her process and drawing her back to the present. She looked over at him, not understanding. Blue eyes rimmed in gold met her own a moment before dropping back to his hands. "V knew he wasn't going to make it."

"What do you mean?"

"He told me."

Rogue blinked. V was talking? Why hadn't anyone told her?

Why would they?

It's not like they'd been friends. 

"He told you…?"

Another breath, this one shaky, but Kerry's voice was stronger when he continued. "Told me that even though Johnny's engram had been removed, he was still going to die sooner rather than later. Six months, maybe a bit more. He's… still coughing up blood. Panam and their Nomad ripper confirmed with scans that it's still fucking…still fucking killing him. After all that shit, all he did…"

Kerry's hands clenched tight against his knees, but his eyes were clear when he met her gaze again. 

Determined. 

"But there's this treatment -- something they developed for MS. Can repair and rebuild neural tissue, and if someone can adapt it, maybe…"

Rogue nodded, leaning forward and mirroring his position, elbows on her own knees. Refocused her attention, tapping into relevant databases and pulling up the best places to start. She was familiar with the treatment he meant, had heard about it on and off on the news and in radio casts, but hadn't paid it much mind, before. Hadn't had a reason to. But now… 

"Think you can help?"

"I'll see what I can do."

V had never stopped fighting, after all. 

And neither would she.

[novawulfen]

Today's ramble is a dream that woke me up at 5am, and I can't go back to sleep until I write it down

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I just came up with a concept of a first person shooter set on the wreckage of a world where small teams of heavily armed mercs plunder the dead world's underside, being careful not to attract the attention of the beasts that live there.

Some of those beasts in the Treacherous Deep can smell you, and will scream as they rush you. Some of them wait, ambush style, in high places and wait for unsuspecting fools to walk by underneath. Some are attracted by the sounds that either you or their friends make. Some of the beasts are humanoid, some are birds. Some of them are broken forms that surely... Should be dead, but aren't. Some of them are seemingly cursed, with a strange glow to their skin and eyes, which seems to be more prevalent as the depth increases, but what that means? Who knows.

All of them are tough as nails, so go prepared.

If you can get down into the ground and get something shiny, you can come up again, maybe not in the same place you went down, and trying to fortify any above ground locations.

After all, you have to be able to stash your finds somewhere, and the more places you fortify away from home, the further into the world you can go.

Just be careful. Too much activity above ground will attract the attention of Godspeed. We're pretty sure that's not his name, but it's what he says through his army of drones when he performs executions.

Some of the drones are stealth drones, and will try to shield other drones by projecting a short range stealth field around them. Some drones are slow and large and can be destroyed relatively easily with heavy fire. This is a good plan, because their explosive payload is devastating. Some of them will be squat devices with large projectile weapons, that will turn you into meat and shred fortifications. Some are markers, which will target you with a laser, and let the other drones know where easy pickings are, so stay low, and move. Some will jump on you and pin you down, so others can execute you.

Godspeed's army can be fought back, however, and doing so can give you time to hide your finds around the buildings, stashing both weapons and treasure for the return journey home.

Home is a shield dome, which even Godspeed cannot break. You might not want to step through the shield though. He's waiting. That's why the simplest exit is into the tunnels, where the deeper you go, and the further out into the world, the shinier the loot, but also the more danger you're in. You can cut and run at any time, but who knows what you'll find if you can make it.... Just a bit further. Don't worry, your stash is safe until you die.

But you won't die.... Will you? After all, you've got potent energy weapons, as long as you can find cells to power them. Given how many people have tried these depths, there's often bodies to search, and little pockets of safety, where others have tried to fortify below ground. But nothing large, because attracting the beasts is not a good survival strategy.

And, of course, you'll have to ensure that no other mercs are waiting to kill you, because looting the bodies of those who thought they were successful, and forgot to pay attention.... Well that's just good business sense.

Very few make it back, and nobody has seen the length of the land, but you'll be the first.

Won't you?

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There, brain, I wrote it down. It's now 6am. Can I please go back to sleep?