#went back to my tf2 roots for this one

[kesoyotes]

" at the end of the day, someone's gonna want someone dead "

[feathernotes]

Hello! My name is Krispy, and I’m the co-creator of the webcomic Ghost Junk Sickness (along with @spacerocketbunny​) It's story time!

GJS is a webcomic published by Hiveworks and features two bounty hunters with an unstable dynamic who are pushed to pursue the deadly bounty dubbed the Ghost The current iteration of GJS is about 9 years old (and wrapping up next year!) It’s been an incredible journey full of ups and downs. We’ve learned SO MUCH creating this comic, and I wanted to share some of it’s origins with you all in hopes of inspiring more folks to take chances, make mistakes, and get messy- and make that comic!

The origin of Ghost Junk Sickness came from our love for Magic Knight Rayearth and Final Fantasy 7. Vahn, the protagonist of GJS, was basically a mash up of Hikaru and Cloud from those two series. The very first version of this story has unfortunately been destroyed, and this map is the only piece I have left of that world. Character art still exists though, and it was pretty funny to see how obvious we were with our inspirations at the time.

The original attempt at the story was called Crew, and my sister Space and I worked on it in 2002-2004. We sort of got lost in our own ideas after that, and weren’t as focus on making the comic (now lost). A few years later, I decided to try my hand at it and it looked like this:

This was all done on low quality paper, whichever I could find at the time and some pencil crayons. This attempt was over 600 pages long and had a pretty random story plot, much like the first version. I could not tell you what it was about haha 😅

My second attempt (then called Divine Ace) I wanted to look more 'traditional manga' and kept with just inks and tried my darndest to tone on the computer (it never worked out). This one lasted over 400 pages, and was more allinged with my liking to edgy action anime and games at the time. It was also Trigger's first appearance!

After experimenting and eventually wanting to change- I started to work with Space again, and we collaborated in full on our first fancomic for TF2 called "Be Efficient, Be Polite." It was a good lesson on how we could coordinate our shared skill sets and plan out who did what as far as the whole process of comics go.

All of these comics (save for the very first lost version) were hosted on DA the day we got our hands on a scanner. It was our first taste on being 'webcomic creators' back in the day, and it was very fun! We didn't much care for readers, only the process of completion at the time, so a page done was always a victory worthy to be celebrated (and back then, we had more time to make pages!)

And so, as the years went by and we decided to move on from our fandom roots, Space and I went back to the Crew/Divine Ace project and redesigned and overhauled the entirety of it. (You can see the full evolution here) We wanted to re-asses what the story, comic, and characters meant to us, and how we could convey some pretty important ideas and concepts to our potential readers. From that, Ghost Junk Sickness was born, and began pre-production in 2013.

Years after, we find ourselves reflecting on how much we've learned from the process of going ahead and diving in head first. There were certainly many iterations and years it took to get where we are today, but realising that it all began that day Space and I decided to scribble some pretty mediocire comics in our homework books and papers. Because that is the beauty of comics- The many skill sets, the hats, and challenges that come along with creating them. And how much we've become better at so many things along the way. So if you read this and feel nervous about diving head first into your first comic, I'm here to re-assure you that things will feel tough, but exciting. Things will feel really hard but amazing when you're getting your story out in front of you with such an incredible medium. Webcomics will always be my favourite because of how accessible it is to any skill set. And know in your heart of hearts that there ARE people out that that LOVE to see growth, they love to see the progression of your journey. So get out there and start creating that comic that's occupied your brain for so long, and start breathing that life into your OCs and your world. The only way is up with webcomics, and the only way to start is just by creating now.

[thebadchoicemachine]

Pauling In Blunderland

TF2 Alice in Wonderland AU

All Chapters • Ao3

Chapter 5/14 - The Rabbit's Burrow

As the sounds of the battle gradually faded behind her, Pauling found her surroundings shifting strangely. Demo’s directions were easy to follow; the first two squares she passed were identical to the looming forests and regal rocks she’d been to before, but the final turf of her journey went on far longer than any of the others had. The Soldier’s War Grounds—if she was even still in the War Grounds—had slowly become more and more vivid. Color was blooming everywhere from the roots to the dirt to the sky, and signs of life like leaves and bugs splashed the environment in a familiar, alien way.

When she finally came upon it, the house was a whole other level of uncanny. It was… certainly a house. A patchwork one, but a house. It was large, it had doors and roofs and windows, but something about it felt strange. Not the fact that it was cobbled together from apartments, cottages, spaceships, and trailers; not that it seemed to be abandoned in some parts, new in others, splattered with bricks and boards and plaster; not any of that. Pauling had learned to expect strange architecture, flora, and fauna by now.

No, what made it strange, she realized, was that none of it was real. As she’d noted before, it was an actual house—no illusions or cardboard cutouts—but it was akin to a doll’s house. The proportions were slightly askew. Everything held a plastic sheen to it. It was just wrong in other ways she couldn't name.

As Pauling cautiously approached, the texture of the ground beneath her feet changed yet again. The earth felt softer, spongier, like she was walking on a thick, plush carpet instead of dirt. She glanced down and realized the grass wasn’t grass at all. It was made of tiny, interwoven threads, like the fibers of a toy.

She stopped just before the porch, studying the front door. It was painted a cheerful green and blue, but the doorknob was absurdly large, as if it had been designed for hands much bigger than hers. She hesitated, her instincts screaming at her to turn back. But she’d come this far, and this was the rabbit’s house, according to Soldier and Demo.

Taking a deep breath, Pauling reached for the doorknob. The moment her fingers touched it, a strange sensation rippled through her, a shiver that crawled up her spine and made her skin prickle.

Her instincts kicked in just in time. The door burst open and a flash of turquoise painted Pauling’s vision. She threw herself to the ground, out of the way, before kicking herself back to her feet. She adopted a fighting stance, her legs bent and ready to spring. Her fists clenched tightly, guarding her chest while she locked eyes with the figure.

The figure was, in actuality, more of a figurine. A tall, tinted glass and string lay figurine. It stood with its arms wide open, fingers outstretched as if it were about to hug her. The strings that threaded its limbs together shimmered a holographic glow.

“Oops! Thought you were someone else.” It spoke without a face, but a high voice that carried more exuberance than Soldier’s had. It rearranged itself, leaning its head on a fist in a curious pose. “But he'd never run from me like that. Knows it’s pointless. Ha!”

Pauling, still crouched in a defensive stance, glanced to the side. She didn't know why she was confused—she really ought to be used to this by now. A Bostonian drawing toy, why not?

The figurine moved again, leaning its head centimeters away from her face in an instant.

“Huh. You ain't from here,” it stated.

“N-no?” Pauling straightened herself. “You’re the first to notice.”

The figure snapped back, squealing with a sudden and unbridled excitement.

“DOYAHAVEANAME?”

Pauling blinked. “What?”

“A name! You got one? Oh, I feakin’ adore names. My son brought me back a book full of ‘em! I gave each of my sons a name, oh you have to meet them. You know, I wanted to give my spouse one too but he refused, even though there were plenty of good ones I offered. There was René, Gabriel,” It spun it’s hand around to count on its fingers. “Jacques, Jérémie, Alexandre…”

“Um, excuse me,” Pauling tried to interrupt. “Excuse me?”

“…Lucien, John, Phillipe, Napoleon, Alfonse, Emile—”

”EXCUSE ME.”

The figurine stopped cold. It stood in the abrupt silence, looking at her with its blank face. The air around them felt tight and insulted like drums were beating beneath Pauling’s skin.

Pauling cleared her throat, rethinking her next words. “Do… do you have a name?”

“Oh, Collie!” The figurine—Collie—exclaimed, reanimating into its usual exaggerated self, one hand on its hip while the other waved in the air. Despite its lack of facial expressions, its energy was what Pauling could only describe as beaming. “But I'm also called the Hound.”

“Hound? But…” Pauling stopped herself. She did not want to re-enter whatever situation they just existed.

“Butts are for poopin’. Finish your sentence!”

“I don’t want to offend you.”

“You won’t.” Collie crossed its heart with long strides. “Promise.”

“Okay. It’s just that… you don't… look like a dog?”

Collie bent its neck, cocking its head further to the side than any human could. “Why would I?”

“Well, there've been a lot of animal people around here. Like—oh, that reminds me! I was told the rabbit boy lives around here, the Scout. Do you know—”

Pauling was again stopped in the middle of her sentence by a gasp.

“I do know you! You’re the one my little Jeremy is always talking about!” Collie leaned in with a jarring speed and wrapped its hands around Pauling’s, giving them a tight squeeze. Its fingers were so cold, Pauling almost didn't hear what it said next. “It’s so wonderful to finally meet his Orth Girl friend.”

“Orth? Wait, what? Girlfriend? WHAT?”

Collie spun its torso around and began tugging Pauling inside the house. “Come on in! Have dinner with us. Jeremy’s told us all about you, but it’ll be good for the boys to meet you in person.”

Pauling tried to pull her hand away, but Collie’s grip was like shackles. “No, no, no,” she quickly corrected. “You don't understand, I’m not…”

The hallway she was dragged into stole all words from her mouth. It was kaleidoscopic, erratic, and eclectic, stretching out in an array of doors and stairs and corners and colors that seemed to shift with every step they took.

Rooms seemed to slide past her as if on a conveyor belt. A wave of dizziness overtook her as she tried to comprehend the content behind each doorframe; an endless file room with paper towers that teetered to the ceiling, a padded and bloodied arena, the velvety inside of a strange vehicle, a lurid pastel-painted room splattered with dental decor, the top of a circus trapeze set, a cluttered bedroom swirling with thick inky patterns, a room so full of strange oddments she couldn't see the end of it.

Pauling’s head swam as the bizarre environment overwhelmed her senses. Each door they passed seemed to lead to a different reality entirely, and she could only catch fleeting glimpses of the rooms inside before they vanished behind them. The house felt less like a structure and more like a living, shifting organism—a creature with countless appendages, constantly rearranging itself. The whole… being… felt eerily similar to the way Collie itself existed.

Pauling swallowed back the nausea. What was she doing? She was trying to object to something, wasn’t she? Dinner? Why would she object to that? Girlfriend? Girlfriend. Oh dear.

Pauling's thoughts stuttered to a halt as they passed through another doorframe, light and wooden, which fell open inwards without so much as a touch from Collie. The room beyond seemed more grounded, though that word was relative now. It was a dining room. The walls were striped with odd reflective surfaces, patterns of checks and swirls, and the walls were adorned with chandelier birefringence that spun lazily in different directions. The room itself held a long table with 9 mismatched chairs, some plush enough to sleep on, others too rough to even consider sitting on, as if pulled from a modern art set. In every chair but the heads sat a different… thing.

“Boys,” Collie proudly announced, dragging Pauling in front of her. “This is Jeremy’s friend! The Girl from Orth!”

“Holy shit, they’re real,” a tired-sounding jagged line muttered.

“Eddie, of course she’s real,” a glassy-eyed tangle of nerves scolded. “Jeremy has lots of friends.”

“His coworkers don't count as his friends,”  Eddie retorted. “They kill him daily.”

“Wonderful to meet you, Girl, my name’s James.” A figurine—strikingly similar to Collie aside from the comet flowing inside his plastic casing—offered its hand. “That’s Kenny,” he gestured to the nerves, “Eddie, Mary, Sean, Sam, and Josh.” His hand went down the table, covering every seat.

Each of them nodded or waved in turn, though not all of them had faces to express much more. Eddie, Mary, and Sean seemed to be triplets—or close enough, anyway. All three were humanoid shapes made of one continuous line; Eddie of iridescent triangles, Mary of brilliant circles, and Sean of dull squares. Sam was constructed out of bits of old, broken-down machinery, altogether an art-like amalgamation like a human being, while Josh was a thorny, smirking rose of a man.

The table sat in silence for a moment, everyone’s attention glued expectantly on Pauling.

“Well?” Josh asked. “What about you? You got a name or what?”

“Ms. Pauling,” Pauling replied on reflex. “A-and there’s a misunderstanding, I’m not the rabbit’s—Scout’s— Jeremy’s girlfriend.“

Another silence, which Pauling wanted to call awkward but wasn't sure she could, overtook the room.

“No, you are, dear,” Collie whispered into ear. “You are.”

“I’m not surprised he lied about having a friend,” Josh snorted.

“Oh, he didn't lie,” Collie insisted. “He told me about meeting her earlier today! Stopped by on his way to the King.”

Something clicked in Pauling’s mind; the Engineer, the Scout, the Soldier, the Demoman, the Hound, the King… the Girl.

“You mean I'm his friend, the Girl,” she said slowly. “His Girl Friend.”

“Yes, exactly,” Collie chirped.

“What else could we have meant?” Kenny added, his jittery “fingers” tapping on the edge of his plate.

“There are lots of girls where I come from. It’s just something you are, not what you do,” Pauling explained.

“Neat,” Sam finally spoke up, and seemingly finished.

Pauling shifted on her feet It was clear they didn’t quite understand her, just as she didn’t understand them. She needed to reset the conversation.

“Listen,” she said, her voice firm, “I don’t know what Scout told you, but I’m not here for any of this. I hate to out him like this but we aren't… really what I'd call… friends. We met once. I came looking for him because—well, I don't know why. I set out to find him and I want to finish the job. You’re his family, you know how to catch him, right?”

The rest of the table burst into snickers.

Pauling sighed, feeling more than a little worn down at this point. “Is that a no?” Back to square one.

“No, we know how,” James, the only composed one, assured her.

Kenny curled his teeth into a smile, all the while keeping his eyes locked with Pauling’s. “We’re the only ones who know how to catch him.”

“Or we could just tell you where he’s going,” Sean cut in. “Which would be the King’s."

“Sorry, who is the King?”

“Oh, you know, he's the King,” Collie said. “The Grey King? The King used to be someone else, but he lost his title and started using a name like they have on Orth.”

Sean nodded. “Point is, he’ll stop for you. He’s always talking about Girl. He loves you. Or them, I guess. Isn't it confusing with so many of you? Don't you hate it?”

“Never. I love having so many girls in my world,” Pauling blurted out. She tried not to let her face turn red. ”So, how do I get to the King?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Collie answered. “Just meet the rest of the team. Soon as you do that, the King will meet with you.”

“The team?”

“Right! I can give you a list.”

Pauling waited politely as Collie walked around her to the table, effortlessly tearing off a piece of the woven, worn and stained tablecloth. Collie scribbled on the cloth with her fingers, handing it to Pauling with an excited flourish. Pauling stared at the piece, perplexed. The makeshift "list" was covered in scrawled symbols and doodles that resembled more of a child’s attempt at a treasure map than anything remotely useful. She squinted at the strange shapes that most resembled each other—nine grey inside circles—and tried to make sense of it.

Collie beamed. "That's everyone you need to meet before the King shows up! Simple enough, right?"

Pauling tilted her head, still unsure how to proceed. "And these are… names?" she asked, pointing at the squiggles.

"Not exactly names," Collie said. "More like representations. You’ll know ‘em when you see them. It’s the fastest way to get the King’s attention. You’ve already met Jeremy or Scout,” it pointed to a winged shoe, “And you probably met the Engineer on your way in.”

“I’ve also met the Demoman and Soldier. Who do I need to see next?”

Collie shrugged its shoulders in a wide, exaggerated motion. “Oh, I wouldn’t know. Honestly, I don’t know much about the team outside of my spouse and son. And that they’re all top dogs for the King, of course.”

“Right, of course,” Pauling said as if that were obvious to her too. “Who’s your spouse? Can they tell me how to get to everyone else?”

Collie put a finger to its head, fidgeting. “Oh, maybe!”

“Unlikely,” Kenny said at the same time.

“He might,” Collie insisted. “If she tells him I sent her.”

“But he’ll be a prick about it,” Kenny mumbled.

“Look, this has been great,” Pauling interrupted, feeling the growing headache from trying to make sense of everything, “but I really need to find Scout fast. I’ve been on break for too long already. If your spouse can help, I’ll take my chances.”

“He doesn’t stay in one place for very long unless he needs to. Under normal circumstances, I’m the only one who could find him for you but, considering the time, he should be stopping by the gazebo soon. We meet for dinner in about an hour.”

”You want me to intercept your date with your spouse? ”

Collie waved her hand “Oh, don’t be silly, we’re not dating. We broke up ages ago.”

Pauling blue screened. “But you called him your spouse.”

Collie tilted her head again. “Of course. Why would I stop that just because we separated?”

“I—you know what?” Pauling put her hands up. “It’s none of my business. I’m very happy for you. Now,” she turned, nausea instantly overtaking her as she stared back into the shifting hall. “Could you show me the way out?”

  A few moments later, Pauling was standing inches from the string-grass front yard of Collie’s house with the entire family crowded behind her.

The air around the house felt dense, almost buzzing with the strange energy that seemed to leak from every surface. The stringy grass rustled faintly, as though each blade was plucked by invisible fingers. Pauling hesitated, feeling all the eyes of the family boring into her back.

“Go on,” Collie chirped from behind. “Just head down that red path! The gazebo is right next to the pond. It’s a long walk, but you look like a healthy kid.”

“What red—oh.” Sure enough, an ornate red path stretched out from the doorway, something Pauling was certain hadn’t been there before. It seemed to pulse lightly, inviting her to follow, but her curiosity got the better of her, and she stopped just at the threshold.

She turned around, glancing at Collie and the others with a raised brow. “I’m curious, how do you catch the Scout?”

“Easy. You have Ma give him a call,” James laughed. “He’ll always come running. It just takes a while when he’s working.”

“Oh, that’s…” Pauling shrugged. “I guess that makes more sense than anything else about you guys. It was… nice? Sure, nice to meet you.”

As Pauling made her way past the threshold of the house, through the ill-fitted door frame, and down the fancy, dull-colored road, she heard one of the brothers exclaim, “She didn’t even eat anything!”

[sammusbird]

figured it out its bc Emesis Blue has everything I like. observe.

Very tasteful handling of mental illness, addiction, and visible scars for a horror movie.

gahhhh speaking of. I LOVE stories that explore the terror of not being able to trust your own mind. “wahwahwah unpredictable guy what if he attacks me” more like “shit fuck I can’t tell if that was real or not >:|”

friends. they are all friends and care so much

NO JUMPSCARES. YES.

TWIST. after TWIST. and you can FIGURE THE TWISTS OUT and THEORISE AS YOU GO and it is SO FUN

usually I actually hate references but it turns out that’s just bc they are usually to movies and I don’t get them lol. Emesis Blue references???? classic horror literature + movies so well known even I got the reference. fucking awesome. I understand why ppl do references now that was rad. Barbie did this too I am so happy.

uhhhh fuck dramatic irony,,, oh wowie intense!!

took such a funny silly game and made it WAAAAAUWAAAUWAAWAUWAA!!! that is an instrument sound effect please pretend. I love when stories are like “this thing is innocuous. lets explore the implications” but don’t go overboard with ridiculous edge. it was very rooted in the game and every dark moment felt earned and deeply emotional

VERY clearly a labor of love. MWAH so good. you can feel the affection for the characters and love for the game. the animation stuff they used must have been so painful to work with and yet they made it so beautiful

SO beautiful. so many great shots…. cinematic. cinema. cinematography

the,, the. time loop,, caused his own mental anguish that led to him investigating this cursed ass place,,

The real villains were wealth & power -caused lack of care for human life, and the horrors we ourselves did along the way!

^^^ seriously it is very clear with this messaging the whole time and sticks to it sharply. plays with how fucked up a respawn machine would actually be and why ppl would use it anyways (capitalism)

um I really like cartoon violence and blood. not violence in live action bc I always get worried the actors got injured irl. but in cartoon? teehee.

also I really liked translating the little German phrases to my friend, and pausing to comb through video cassette titles in that one scene and seeing if we had read / watched the short stories and classic movies there, and looking for repeated and referenced dialogue throughout the movie… so much attention to detail and cool things to look for

imagey sick as hell I loved when Scout went through the same thing as the main character in one creepypasta that still knocks my fuckin socks off with fear. lots of spooky tropes I don’t get elsewhere yaya

free on youtube I love free stuff

I already said the tropes but FUCK it expertly explored many scenarios I rarely see in fiction and it was just so cool to see. titilating even

anyways in conclusion *kisses you on the cheeks 3 times back and forth you know the deal* you need to become an expert on tf2 lore and then watch Emesis Blue. I don’t know how to become an expert, my homie explained stuff to me as needed and also we’ve watched a million hours of epic tf2 funnies. I guess just watching the comic dubbing and some ytps. I believe in you

rrrgggggahhhh I watched Barbie, which probably will be remembered as the best big movie of the decade, and left with a migraine and the thought that it “was really fun but too clumsy in its messaging and themes.” And today I watched Emesis Blue, a fucking horror movie fan animation of Team Fortress 2, and found it so beautiful that I’m laying in the dark just thinking about the kickass themes and symbollism….. IT’S SO GOOD??????????

[aggressive-positivity-network]

Tf2 headcanons? Aw yeah! So let's say a new merc joins the team. They're a total asshole: Cocky, sarcastic, overconfident, refuse help. But both Spy and Scout see right through that, it's a defense mechanism. How do they go about making this person comfortable enough to not be an asshole?

*chanting* HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMF

Okay, jokes aside, this is one of my favorite tropes. Maybe I’m too naïve to believe that some people are just mean to be mean, or maybe it’s a sort of comfort to know that even the worst people can be understood, but either way, WOOOOOOOOO!

*****************

An Ass For An Ass

Headcanons

Scout:

To be honest, Scout’s threshold for asshole-ery is pretty high. Growing up with eight brothers will do that to you.

But when the new recruit came around, something immediately rubbed him the wrong way.

Recruit always stole his thunder with the crass jokes and over-the-top displays. Every battle turned into a competition, which messed with Scout’s system of fighting. He never had to focus much on his own team before, and now he had to worry about keeping his own reputation upheld while trying not to get stabbed, shot, or blown up.

Recruit also kept hitting on Miss Pauling - even after reminding them again and again that she was lesbian, and was not and never will be into dudes.

“Come on…you just haven’t been with a real man yet…”

“No, no, I’ve been with a lot of men. Real men. I just wasn’t into any of them. After a while, it was kind of obvious.”

But what really pissed a lot of people off was Recruit’s fighting style.

They were an absolute monster on the field - that’s why they were chosen - but every interaction was treated as some sort of survival scenario.

One would think that would be a good thing, but Recruit was ridiculous.

No matter what the situation was, he was fine, he was okay, he could take it, he could fix it.

He could be killed only inches away from a Medic because he would never yell for one. Sometimes Recruit would even show visible anger at being healed. It got to the point where Medic didn’t heal him at all, and just allowed him to die as to not waste time he could give too more grateful patients.

Missions were even worse.

He followed orders to a T, but Pauling had to beg him to leave a failed mission, or to leave without completely destroying the site.

Everyone just took it as Recruit showing off, or having something to prove as a rookie.

It was annoying, but ultimately harmless in most circumstances.

However, it all came to a head when Recruit tried disengage a sentry by himself and was severely injured.

Both Engineer and Medic, who had had to fix most of Recruit’s past and current recklessness, ripped him a new one, one chewing out after the other.

“What we’re you thinkin’, son?! One crossed wire and you woulda blown the whole base!”

“Zhe only reason you are allowed in my lab at all is because it’s in my contract. Personally, I vould have rather left nature to it…”

Since then, Recruit did exactly as he was told, and nothing else. And most of the team liked it that way.

But Scout recognized some warning signs immediately. Fatigue, near silence except for missions, self-isolation, snapping when people got too close…it all paved the way for a pretty nasty (and, for Scout, very familiar) result.

One night, Recruit was sitting on the balcony, and Scout came out with two bottles - a beer for Recruit and a root beer for himself.

(Scout can only drink on the weekends because one, unlike most, he can’t go to work hung over because his job requires a lot of movement, and two, he has no restraint and can’t stop once he starts.)

“What do you want?”

Scout shrugged. “Depends.”

“On what?!”

“What are ya willin’ to tell me?”

Recruit just looked at the beer and sneered.

“Can’t we just skip this?” Scout said. “Maybe get to the part where you tell me what kinda Sally Sob Story we’re dealin’ with here?”

Recruit looked away.

“Aw, c’mon, don’t tell me you don’t got one. ‘Cause you do. I can see it a mile away. So what happened? Pop leave? Somebody died? Lotta brothers and sisters? Ma had a few too many and smacked ya around?”

Recruit didn’t turn around, but Scout could tell he was crying. He had hit a sore spot. Hard.

“Hey, pal, listen…”

Scout trailed off, then slowly began again.

“…the only reason I know is ‘cause I’ve been through it, ‘kay? Outta everybody I knew, I only trusted me. And that was great when I did a good job, ‘cause I knew I put me there.”

Scout opened his bottle of root beer and took a long swig.

“But when I screwed somethin’ up, it’s like everybody I ever knew just let me down. The one thing I could count on was gone.”

Recruit looked at Scout with tears in his eyes.

“But ya can’t do everything by yourself,” Scout continued. “Believe me. I learned that the hard way.”

Scout laughed, but it was mostly to clear the air. He didn’t get serious very often.

Recruit hadn’t touched his beer, but was leaned over the balcony with his head in his hands.

Scout sighed and looked up at the stars.

“But here’s somethin’ that nobody told me - it gets easier, y’know that? You just gotta relax and cut yourself some slack.”

Recruit shifted uncomfortably. “But the Administrator said…”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I know what she said. Gave ya that whole speech about how bein’ part of the team means discipline and focus and whatever. It’s all bull crap. She don’t know the first thing about bein’ on the field. If she did, why’d she hire us?”

“Sh-she said my perseverance was an asset to the team.”

“Perseverance, my ass. You know what would be an asset to the team? Stayin’ alive for more than fifteen minutes!”

Recruit looked at his feet. He had blinked away his tears, but he still looked on the verge of falling apart.

Scout put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it a little.

“You’re a great fighter, Recruit. You’re one of the best…that’s why you’re here. You got nothin’ to prove to nobody. Not to me, not to the team, not to the Administrator…not even to yourself. You’ve made it, kid. You’ve made it.”

Scout slid his hand off Recruit and started to walk away.

“Hey.”

Scout turned to see Recruit in the process of opening his beer.

“Thanks.”

Scout smiled. “No problem, pal. Plenty more under Demo’s mattress.”

“No, I mean…for that. I needed that tonight.”

“Oh…yeah! Sure. Don’t worry about it.”

Scout went back inside and to his room - but not before checking the cameras on the balcony a few times. Just in case.

Over the next few months, Scout kept helping Recruit break some old bad habits.

Recruit learned to take criticism without getting angry, to leave tanked missions, and to take care of himself.

He still occasionally flirted with Miss Pauling, but it was now more of an inside joke than anything.

Recruit still isn’t perfect - he still cringes a little when he’s healed, and falls back into survival mode when times are stressful - but he is now a much happier, much healthier person.

Spy:

Spy’s asshole wasn’t a merc, per se.

They were more of an informant, usually giving out important facts about locations, missions, and a target’s history.

Sometimes they would even use the Administrator’s PA system to announce new rules and reminders.

This would be perfectly fine - after all, you get kind of tired of hearing the Administrator all the time - except for the fact that Informant was the most sarcastic, most nasally, most apathetic, most matter-of-fact person on earth.

Even outside of a work setting, which was rare because they stayed in their office most of the time, Informant would go out of their way to be as condescending as possible.

Especially to whoever they considered to be in the “less intelligent�� category: Heavy, Pyro, Scout, Demo, and Soldier.

To all the “others,” he turned every briefing into a contest to see who knew more at any given time…which, of course, usually meant he won.

“Now, does anyone know where his address is? Come on, any takers? Yeah, I thought so.”

Unlike Recruit, which would only warrant a few grumbles here and there from the team, Informant was the subject of a lot of hissed complaints and terrible rants from even the calmest of members.

Informant was the only one who could get under Heavy’s skin - a personal pet peeve of his was being considered less intelligent or less of a human being because English wasn’t his first language, which Informant chose to remind him of constantly.

It began with a few simple jabs at his grammar or word structure, but once Informant figured out that Heavy wouldn’t hurt a fly outside of battle, the taunts grew more and more daring.

Heavy would usually ignore Informant, which would only exacerbate their need to be noticed. This led to some pretty nasty interactions - from spouting the statistics of Russia’s average intelligence to even saying Heavy was a disgrace to his country by being a literature major.

“How’s that Russian literature major treating you? You know - in America.”

Sniper and Medic had tried to set Informant straight, but Heavy refused to accept any help. This was something that was his to bear, and his alone. He knew that they both took their own helping of harassment.

But one day, Informant went a little to far.

He did the one thing you should never do: insult Heavy’s family.

“You mother and sisters can’t do anything more than wait for you. No wonder you’re the only source of income.”

Before he knew it, Informant was against a wall, struggling to breathe, blood running into his eyes.

Heavy walked away after the incident, and told Medic about it, but he refused to heal him. Informant had called Medic a Nazi on more than one occasion.

This, finally, is where Spy comes in.

Spy was walking by Informant’s office, when he heard a strange sound - barely suppressed hiccups and sobs.

Despite his aversion to displays of emotion, the promise of seeing one of his greatest enemies as their lowest was too amusing to resist.

He knocked lightly on the door, then slowly opened it - always the master of drama.

Informant was under their desk, bloodied and bruised, sobbing into their knees.

Spy entered noiselessly, sitting in Informant’s office chair and lighting a cigarette.

It was only when Spy made a dramatic exhale of the smoke that Informant looked up, tears streaking their face.

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Spy finally spoke.

“Oh, how the mighty fall. Flown too close to the sun, have we?”

Informant couldn’t do much more than snivel and retreat farther below the desk.

“Who did it?” Spy asked. “I want to give them my regards…and maybe a bottle of wine.”

“H-Heavy…”

“Oh? Well, if anyone can bring him to blows, it’s you.”

Spy put his feet on the desk and continued to blow smoke out of his nose, thinking.

“It’s strange,” he said. “Most offices have at least a few pictures of family. A trip to the beach, perhaps the zoo…?”

He took a quick glance around.

“No children. No army mates. No graduation photos or a large catch at a local lake. The only personal item you have is this…”

Spy picked up a Rubik’s Cube. The plastic still around it crinkled.

“Unused.”

Informant looked at the floor.

“I like to keep my personal and professional life separate.”

Spy pursed his lips and squinted.

“How noble of you. But I don’t think that’s the case. You know what I think, Informant?”

Spy took his feet of the desk and bent down, looking Informant in the eyes.

“I don’t think you have a life.”

Informant’s eyes went wide for a moment, then his face immediately crumpled. Bullseye.

Spy smirked and got up from the chair, starting to leave.

Informant’s sniffling turned into sobbing, and before Spy could put his hand on the doorknob, muffled wailing filled the office.

Spy closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. He was trying not to remember something. But the imagery was too strong.

He remembered hiding under a table, like Informant was. People screaming and cursing at each other in French. His knees all scarred and his nose runny from a cold that should have resolved weeks ago. Waltz music coming from next door, trying to drown out the fighting. Glass breaking. Biting his knuckles so he wouldn’t whimper or cry.

Spy’s hand closed into fist. He took a deep breath, and turned to face Informant again.

“But to be fair…”

He walked towards the desk, putting his hand in his suit pocket. He got on his knees and pulled out a pink handkerchief.

“…I don’t have one either.”

He offered the handkerchief to Informant, who put it to his face, still staring at Spy through red eyes.

The pair were silent for a moment, with Spy putting out his cigarette and lighting a new one while Informant cleaned themselves up.

“But the difference between you and I,” Spy said, his voice wavering a bit, “is that I am a Spy. If my information got into the wrong hands, it could be the end of me and my team.”

He tapped his cigarette on a nearby trash can, letting the ashes fall into it.

“But what are you hiding from?”

Informant took a shaky inhale, the handkerchief still covering his nose and mouth.

“W-what?”

“Why do you feel the need to be, as Scout puts it, a tier five jerkazoid?”

Informant sniffled. “I…I didn’t think I took it that far.”

“Took what that far?”

“I just…snrk…I thought that’s what I had to do to get them to take me seriously.”

Informant laughed, but their heart wasn’t in it.

“I’m five foot four with red hair and freckles. I look more like someone’s Andy doll than a contract killer. I thought maybe if I knew everything…I’d be worth it.”

They shrugged.

“At best, they’d be impressed. At worst, they would never get close enough to me to know the truth: the only reason why I’m here is because I can rattle off a few names and that I had good grades in school because I had nothing better to do.”

Spy’s chest ached. He didn’t know why, but it was a strange feeling to him.

“Mon ami…”

He cleared his throat.

“If half of the team is any indication, you don’t need to be Nikola Tesla to be hired. Hell, the fact you can read is an anomaly in itself. But there is something you must understand…”

Spy cleared his throat again. His voice had gotten quite unstable all of a sudden.

“Intelligence is measured in different ways. Scout could never read even the simplest of children’s books, but his physical intelligence - reflexes, spatial awareness, aim - is phenomenal. Medic would have to put my spine back together if I even attempted to do what he does on the field.”

Informant snickered at the joke, or perhaps the image it conjured.

“And me,” Spy continued. “I can speak almost any language, adjust to any social setting, charm anyone, fool anyone…kill anyone. Just like you, I can remember, and I use the information I absorb mostly to show how superior I am to all my lowly colleagues.”

Spy furrowed his brow and looked away.

“But I know less about myself than even my enemies. I have hidden it so deep within my mind that I can hardly remember…or perhaps would rather not remember…who I was before this mask of mine.”

Informant hesitated. “I…I’m sorry, Spy.”

Spy sneered and puffed a few smoke rings.

“I don’t want your sympathy. I want you to have some self-respect - and respect for my teammates. Because next time you are beaten within an inch of your life, you might catch me in a less generous mood.”

With that, Spy got up, reached into his suit pocket and presented a small MediKit, which he tossed to Informant.

“I’d suggest freshening up before going to any more briefings.”

Informant nodded, and set to work healing himself.

Spy started to leave, then stuck his head back in.

“And hang a few posters, would you? Your office looks like a prison cell.”

Finally, the Frenchman took his leave, adjusting his suit and nodding solemnly to the team members he happened to pass - or scowling at them, depending.

He glanced over the security feed, and once he was satisfied, made his way to his smoking room.

Spy closed the heavy oak door, poured himself a small glass of scotch, and sat down in his chair next to the fireplace.

He put a magazine on his knee and began to flip through the pages, but his gaze soon started to wander.

He closed the magazine, tossed it into the fire, leaned into his hand, and wept.

…So what became of Informant?

Well, after a reluctant heal from Medic and a few well-deserved apologies, Informant began to try and break the cycle of self-sabotage.

The process took a lot longer than Recruit’s did - especially since Informant’s transgressions were a lot more egregious - but, little by little, they began to heal.

A lot of the time, the other mercs would have to tell them to tone it down a bit, or to cut him off completely if necessary.

Informant still almost has a panic attack if he doesn’t have the right papers, and his office is still pretty bare, but he took Spy’s advice - a few AC/DC posters hang on the leftmost wall.

As for Spy, well…he needs to have a talk with Medic.

******************

I am so sorry…this is all so messy and weird. One is so much longer than the other, and I’m not even sure half the dialogue sounds right.

The two headcanons were just typed out at different times, the first where I had less motivation and the second when I had more motivation. This wasn’t on purpose, it just happened.

I hope you still like it, though!

[scruffypegasus]

Okay this took hour’s and especially after I made a huge mistake on it that needed fixing so that took another hour and a half....so what is this strange tree of Harmony? 

So after much thought I came up with a bit of a silly idea of what universe my TF2 MLP crossover character’s exist in, an AU as they say. 

I know people are probably not going to like this but here I go,

As I said this crossover is it’s own AU and this is how the story goes.

After King Zepheniah died due to mysterious illness Equestria was expected to be ruled by his twin sons, RedSun(Redmond) and BlueMoon(Blutarch) together.

Instead the two engaged in a lifelong feud/civil war with each other over the control of  Equestria left to them by their father

In the early days of this conflict a Mysterious third party approached the brothers and gave them an alternative, that would make sure Equestria wasn’t going to be raging a civil war for the next several centuries. 

The Third Party suggested that they create these ‘War Games’ that would represent each side and at locations all across Equestria that were mostly isolated from the civilians. The Winner of the ‘War Games’ would finally be the true ruler of Equestria...Surprisingly the brother’s agreed to the Mysterious third party plans and thus the ‘War Games’ were created.

10 famous Hero’s of Equestria were picked to partake in the ‘War Games’ though that was stalled thank to the brother’s bickering over which Hero would be on their team and while that was happening, the event of King Sombra’s taking over the Crystal Empire occurred.

Very few pony’s were able to escaped and sort out aide from RedSun and BlueMoon, but the two ruler’s refused to help, too caught up in their own selfish feud to care about a long time Allie. 

But the Hero’s hearing the plight of these pony’s and the stories they told of King Sombra’s terrible act’s upon the captured citizens spurred them on to help. 

But before the Hero’s left to aid the Crystal Empire, the Mysterious third party approached them with a contract to sign for their agreement to fight in the ‘War Games’ and that it will guarantee that they would ‘return’ 

They agreed and sign the contract and then left, never to be seen again along with the Crystal Empire that disappeared soon after. 

That is when the true nature of the contract was revealed, it was planned that in case the Hero’s did fail their mission/died they would be ‘reformed’ and brought back to the castle...but something went wrong, the hero’s didn’t come back, but instead their’s soul’s got fragmented and a small part of them were reborn/reincarnated into another creature/pony.  

Once the Mysterious third party found out what went wrong with the spell, they convinced the brother on a new plan for the ‘War Games’.

Those who were found to have a ‘Soul’ fragment of any of the hero’s, would be drafted in fighting in the ‘War Games’ now with the new and improved ‘Reform’ Spell now referred to as ‘Respawn’ that has now taken on the form of a Crystal Tree, it’s root’s have spread out and across Equestria and have form smaller versions (Think the Konohana tree and it’s Guardian Saplings in Okami)

So to finish this off each Class... Scout, Medic, Sniper ect.. have a small Soul fragment of one of the 10 hero’s and thus will always show similar traits that supposedly the originals had, like coloration/appearance, personality, fighting style and other minor trait's. 

Other notes:

- Their is a ‘Mare in the Moon’ (So the moon looks like it did in the first episode of MLP:FiM) in this universe though no pony knows the story behind it. 

-  For some unknown reason over the year’s it was noted that no pony or creature had a soul fragment of the ‘Tenth’ Hero and some wondered if maybe said Hero was somehow still alive?

[rexscanonwife]

o h geez, ok I guess I’m just doing fucking all of them! xD @poetbfs @empress-of-cornelia @chicken-huggit @targaryenkid @snaggteeth thanks so much for asking! ♡ put under a readmore cause of course it’s a longass post lmao

1) What do you and your f/o(s) do on a rainy day? I love to watch/listen to the rain, so I’d set up my drafting table next to the biggest window and just draw! Engie would be doing his own thing in his workroom but occasionally come out to sit next to me and see what I’ve been drawing, or we’ll both take a break and snuggle up together with hot drinks! ♡

2) Do you have any pet with your f/o(s)? When we met I had a cat named Taffy that he was pretty indifferent to, but we’d eventually have a couple of dogs! and I hc that he grew up around horses and knows how ride and to take care of them so we might even have one of those in the future! It’d be really romantic to just ride together with my arms wrapped around his chest resting my head between his shoulder blades and pressing a kiss to the back of his neck once in a while to make him blush! U w U

3) What was your first date like? It was sweet! We went out for a malt and then to a movie, he seemed really nervous for the first half of the night, but eventually he became more comfortable and we had a really wonderful time. 

4) Has your f/o ever bought/won you something? he’s really thoughtful with the gift-giving thing so usually when he comes across something pretty that reminds him of me he gives it to me, whether it be a flower or a pretty rock (he knows I like those).  

5) Does your f/o ever get flustered by something you do? not to sound conceited but try everything? xD I’m just weak for the idea of engie just being a huge doof around me because he’s just too flustered all the time. A smile, a giggle, something dumb I said, staring at him while he works on something, all these things make his heart race!

6) Have you ever cosplayed with your f/o(s)? absolutely not!

7) What was your first kiss like? it was REALLY awkward, but it was lovely. It was actually at the end of our first date! He walked me home like the gentleman he is and when we got to the door he asked if he could give me a goodnight kiss! > w < His rough hand cupping my cheek, the scratch of his stubble, the slight chappedness of his lips, all of these things so distinctly him became intoxicating. It didn’t last too long, just enough, and we were definitely blushing like kids for the rest of the night haha. 

8) Have you gone on vacation with your f/o(s)? not yet, we’ve both got pretty demanding jobs but it’s definitely something that we’d like to do one day. I’ve always wanted to see Mexico and get in touch with my roots so it would probably be there or someplace in northern calfornia for camping.

9) Would you ever have children with your f/o(s)? oh HELL yes!!! I love kids, and engie strikes me as someone who would want a big family so I decided we’re gonna have at least three kids. Two boys and a girl, I’m still developing them and trying to get their designs down but their names are Clifford (goes by Cliff), Grant, and Lenora (goes by Lenny). 

10) Have you introduced your f/o(s) to your family? my self insert for tf2 doesn’t have any family except for Scout who’s like a brother to me, and he already knows Engie because they work together. In fact we actually might not have met if it weren’t for him. xD I really like the idea that they’re moderately close friends and because Scout is most likely the youngest of the mercs and the most foolish, Engie kinda feels the need to look after him whenever he can. 

11) What is it like to live with your f/o(s)? really cozy! I love him so much, and being able to fall asleep resting my head on his chest and wake up with him every morning is??? the best?? ; w ; He likes to whistle when he’s busy doing something, so I can tell which room he’s in at any given time and I love to just,, come up behind him and wrap him up in my arms and just breathe him in!!! 

12) Do you play any games together? not really! I don’t play all that often and neither does engie.

13) What’s your f/o(s) favorite thing about you? probably my dedication? I would do anything for him because he does so much for me! and if not that then maybe my kindness, I’ve always tried to be as nice as possible to people and I feel like I gel with most as a result! just like how he’s not hard to get along with due to his laid back personality.

14) What’s a normal text conversation between you and your f/o(s)? he doesn’t really like to text so it’d only really be to make simple plans and his responses are typically short and straightforward.

15) When did you realize you were in love with your f/o(s) and vise-versa? for him it was love at first sight, when I introduced myself he was so blushy and he kinda fumbled over his words, it was the cutest thing ever! The more we worked together the more I found myself falling for him too, his demeanor, his intelligence, his passion, his down-to-earthness, everything about him made me fall deeper and deeper!!! ♡ ♡ ♡

16) What was your worst date like? it was probably a time where some merc nonsense interrupted us and caused general chaos afhskajf. fires, property damage, casualties, that kind of thing when we just wanted a nice night out. xD in the end we’d still probably be able to make the most of it tho!

[shmuzzieheart]

TF2 Fic-Mouth Pains

Still in bed recovering from my wisdom teeth removal so I might as well write some father-son fluff

Summary: Scout finally gets his wisdom teeth out, and Spy takes this as an opportunity to continue his baby steps towards being a better dad.

The sheer quietness of the base was a bit too unsettling for everyone.  The building was usually filled with the deep giggles, fast speech, and bragging of Scout.  It could always be accounted for from 6 in the morning to 10 at night, every day of the week.  On the weekends it lasted even longer into the evening, often meaning annoyed teammates would go to wherever he was and ask for him to “STOP TALKING SO I CAN GET SOME SLEEP”.

So this was a very surprising and very unwanted happening.

It had been quite early in the morning when Medic and Spy drove the nervous runner into the nearest face and jaw center to have his wisdom teeth removed, after a recommendation from the team’s dentist (Medic wasn’t very happy about them needing some other professional to take care of their teeth, but no one was willing to have the doctor rooting around in their mouths).  So, 4 a.m., they brought Scout in.  It was a simple enough explanation: Scout’s four wisdom teeth were all impacted, and if they weren’t removed now they would soon be on their way to causing bacteria to form.  One of them even had roots forming a 90 degree angle in the poor man’s jaw.  Both of the older members listened to the doctor, nodding here and there as he explained the procedure to them.  Scout, however, was busy looking at the large cart with the suspicious-looking tarp over it.  But, the promise of anesthesia made him a little less worried. 

Oh, but the pain afterwards.  The gauze in his mouth and the painkillers in his body did little to ease the throbbing in his gums.  All the way back to the base he whined, driving the two older men half mad (in Medic’s case madder), and when he finally fell asleep they both let out sighs of relief.

Medic waved everyone away from Scout as they brought him back to his room.  “He needs to lie down after I change the gauze.  Could someone bring me something soft for him to take his first pill with?”  Demo came to the room with a little bowl of ice cream, and it lasted long enough in Scout’s stomach for the pill to digest, but not much longer.  Spy jolted in his seat when he heard the gagging noises and coming from the hallway, but was stopped from entering the room by a puke-covered, swearing German.  Thankfully, there was an empty pail under the bathroom sink for Scout to use the next four times he had to empty his stomach.

The fifth time he heard the grumbling of the doctor washing out the pail was the kicker for Spy.  He promptly checked his watch: 10 p.m.  It was time for Scout’s next painkiller.  Spy went into the kitchen and grabbed two jello cups from the counter, along with the spoon.  It was apparent that ice cream wasn’t doing the trick, from the smell of vomit in the bathroom.

It was only when the French man was in front of the door when he realized what he was doing.  Would Scout even want him in there?  He had tried his best to be a better father since the runner found out, but was it enough for him to be welcomed into the room when his son was in this state?  Not to mention Spy was never a fan of vomit.  Give him blood and guts and he’d be fine, but the sound of gagging made his skin crawl.  But, he had to do this.  He remembered getting his own wisdom teeth out, as well as popping out the rest of his teeth to replace them with the fake ones.  He could do this.

Giving the door a few light knocks, he stepped back a bit when the door swung open, revealing a very tired looking Medic.  He was missing his coat (the casualty of Scout’s vanilla-flavored puke), and the curl on his forehead was limp.  He ran a hand through his hair, eyeing the jello cups in Spy’s hand.

“Yes, Spy?” he asked.

“Have you given Scout his next pill yet?”

“Nein, he won’t let me.  He doesn’t want to vomit again, and he won’t listen to me when I say he’ll be in more pain.”  He let out an exasperated sigh.  “I’m losing my patience.”

“Then let me try.  I believe I can convince him.”

“Do you?”

“Oui.  Plus, I think I can get him to finally sleep.”  At the skeptical look he was given, he added, “I did it once when he was a baby and I was still around.  Maybe that will leave you with the ability to some rest of your own.”

“That would be appreciated...Alright, have at it.  Come get me if it doesn’t work.”  Medic left with a quite ‘danke’, and Spy made his way into Scout’s room.

A collection of things were on the table by his bed: the pail, the bottle of medication, a few bowls, and a bottle of water.  On the bed itself was Scout, wrapped up in a few blankets with two icepacks pressed against his cheeks with a towel tied around his face.  A low whine came from him, and it made a feeling of worry grow in Spy’s stomach.

“And how are we feeling?” He asked, coming over to sit on the bed beside him.  Scout opened his eyes, gave Spy a dirty look, and closed them again.  Spy couldn’t help but give a little chuckle.  Even when he was sick and in pain the runner could still give attitude.  “Not well, it seems.  Medic says you won’t take your next pill.  Is that true?”  He got a nod. “Hm.  I highly advise you do, Scout.  I remember getting my wisdom teeth out, and believe me, they give you those painkillers for a reason.  I didn’t take one of them and passed out crying from the pain of it.”  Scout’s eyes snapped open.  “It hurt that much yes.  I was fifteen when I had mine out, though.  The roots hadn’t formed yet.  Yours have, so I think it’s a good idea if you do take your medication.  Will you?”

Scout shifted a bit, but nodded.  Spy gave him a smile and ripped the top off of one of the jello cups.  “Excellent.  But first, you need something in your stomach.  Let’s give this a try, shall we?” Scout brought his hands out of the mass of blankets, taking the cup and the spoon.  Slowly but surely he scooped the jello into his mouth, careful to dodge his teeth and gums.  When the first cup was finished Spy gave him the other, giving him an approving nod and smile.  After the second was finished he uncapped the medicine bottle, letting Scout take it himself with some water.

“Good job, Scout.  Let’s hope that stays down.”  Scout rolled his eyes and was about to say something when Spy flipped over him so he was between his son and the wall.  He gently took the towel with the ice packs off of Scout’s face, setting them near the edge of the bed.  “Now I believe it’s time for you to get some rest.”  Spy took a pillow from behind Scout and rested it on his lap, then maneuvered Scout’s head so it was on the pillow.  The runner made a noise of argument, but didn’t have enough energy in him to fight the French man.

“What are you doing?” he managed to ask.

“Getting you to sleep.”  Spy responded.  “Let’s see if I can remember the lyrics.”  He set a hand on Scout’s head and began to run his fingers gently through his hair.  After a moment of humming Scout heard Spy begin to sing.

Au clair de la lune, Mon ami Pierrot, Prête-moi ta plume Pour écrire un mot. Ma chandelle est morte, Je n'ai plus de feu, Ouvre-moi ta porte, Pour l'amour de Dieu.

Spy sang until Scout was asleep in his lap, snoring lightly.  The assassin remembered the first time he had lulled his son to sleep with that song, when he was still just a fitful baby wriggling in his crib.  The memory made him smile, and he rested his head against the wall, falling asleep himself.

------

I wrote this randomly, so I hope it sounds alright.  The song Spy’s singing is “Au clair de la lune”, if you wanted to know the title.

[mercenarypark]

medic hcs

Em made a big hc post for heavy a few days ago [here] and ive been meaning 2 finally do the same w/ medic bcause im gay

note: while i try to be brief about the details, this post is about a gay jewish man in Germany during wwii. to set aside any initial worries, no, he is never kept in the camps- as a jewish person myself it sickens me deep in my stomach to even think of that possibility. but there’s still mentions of n/zism and antisemitism, as one would expect.

also, a fair amount of the details of my medic hcs for his childhood are based on the german side of my family, primarily my grandfather and his father. while i still only know a little about my family history[tm], details like medic’s last name, how his family were able to lay low, etc, are based on the little bits and pieces ive heard from my grandmother #antisemitism #nazism #homophobia #transphobia #satanism #long post #text heavy #tf2 #gore text #medical abuse #malpractice #experimentation mention 

-Medic was born roughly around 1925- he’s in his early 40s around when the game takes place- to the name [redacted] Reichstein. the Reichsteins were reviled in their little town as mad doctors, which was at least somewhat true- they certainly weren’t shy to experimentation on body parts and [willing] subjects. but a good part of the hatred for them stemmed from Good Old Antisemitism, focusing their hate on the fact that they were an openly jewish family and saying that that must be influencing their occasionally morally dubious behavior

-for the longest time, though, people tolerated them- they were the only doctors around, after all. but as time went on, the disgusted glances turned to hate speech, turned to violent threats, and eventually, to violent actions.

-medic’s father, who had long since been debating on moving, finally packed the family up[against his wife’s wishes], and within a night, their home and lab were deserted.

-his father could tell that something terrible was coming. he brought down an ultimatum- they would have to abandon everything jewish about themselves in order to survive. medic was young, still, and didn’t fully understand the severity of why his father seemed so adamant that they never mention holidays they once celebrated, why their old family photos were torn and burned, why his mother was constantly reprimanded when her Yiddish roots showed through her accent

-medic’s father pulled a few favors, and before they moved into a new city, the family name was changed to Reich- a more acceptable, more German name. Reichstein could raise eyebrows, lead to questioning about jewish roots, but there have always been many Reichs in Germany.

-that’s also when Medic got his birthname changed to Ludwig, and he and his mother had to fight like hell for that. his father argued that the last thing they needed was another target on their back- if anyone found out that his son “wasn’t really a boy”, then that would bring the entire family under scrutiny and into danger.

-ludwig refused to take no for an answer. ludwig had always been someone who would rather die than pretend that he’s something he’s not, and this was one of the first signs of that. while he didnt fully understand his connection to judaism, yet, and thus didnt fight to keep it at the time; he DID understand that he wasn’t a girl, and by God did he refuse to pretend otherwise.

-eventually his father relented, though he never once forgot and throughout medic’s childhood, he would bring up how risky it was, how medic was potentially endangering them all.

-to clarify: his father DID technically accept his son being transgender, but he wanted him to repress it, ignore it, force it down and never bring it up, much like their jewish heritage. ludwig refused, and his father never liked that. [when ludwig grew older and became both openly gay AND became a practicing jew again, his father nearly had a fucking heart attack]

-ludwig was heavily isolated for most of his childhood after they moved, partially due to the war’s beginning, partially because his father was afraid of his son giving something away. he was homeschooled by his mother, and rarely left the house, instead spending most of his time playing with the family’s cockatoo, or in his father’s operating room, learning human anatomy

-this isolation[alongside his autism, and veritable cocktail of mental illnesses] helped contribute to medic’s general inability to understand how to interact with people- he is oblivious at the best of times, has no concept of personal space, rarely catches social cues, and has Awful attachment issues. he is overly affectionate with anyone he is even vaguely friendly with, he tends to ramble and talk about uncomfortably personal things without realizing its a bad thing, etc, etc, he is a mess and a half

-he does understand bits and pieces- for example, if he’s physically affectionate with someone, they tend to tense up, and try to get away from him, which means he’s doing something wrong. the problem is that he doesnt understand WHAT he’s doing wrong, or why it’s wrong[answer: he’s covered in blood and bird shit and holding at least one[1] human liver]

-speaking of physical affection, the first time engineer affectionately puts a hand on medic’s shoulder medic fucking freaks out because aside from his parents, NO ONE. no one has ever initiated Friendly Physical Contact with him. usually because theyre freaked out by him in some way. he has no idea how to cope with the fact that someone might actually think of him in a friendly manner to the point of expressing that physically [aside from sexually, which is a whole other story and a half]

-but im getting ahead of myself. the first time ludwig killed a man was when he was 17. a nazi soldier paid an unexpected visit to the Reichs. ludwig, scared for his family’s sake and overwhelmed with a boiling hatred for nazis that had simmered for all of his childhood, killed the man

-his father reacted violently, ranting that now they were doomed, but his mother helped ludwig destroy the body and evidence. by the grace of God, no other nazi followed up that visit- the soldier hadn’t told anyone where he was going, and there had been no witnesses to his visit. and germany was so chaotic at the time, that eventually the man's death was attributed to a previously unnoticed casualty in battle

-that was the first man ludwig killed, and also the first of many, many nazis. he spent a good stretch of his adult life hunting down nazis who had gone under the radar, trying to hide their past ties while still keeping the same disgusting views.

-as ive mentioned, in medical school, ludwig not only became openly gay, but returned to his jewish roots. no longer under his father's roof, and now that the war was over, medic saw no reason to hide aspects of himself any longer. and God help everyone who felt otherwise. especially once the most violently hateful dissenters, began to mysteriously disappear.

-throughout his adult life medic has had Multiple short term, non-serious relationships [including more than his fair share of one night stands], and maybe two serious relationships prior to heavy. neither of those ended well, citing ludwigs mental Fuckery as a big issue. speaking of, his mental fuckery has helped him get into at least a couple abusive relationships, which i wont detail beyond "he survived and healed".

-while he is Jewish, he is the kind of jew who criticizes god every step of the way. at least part of this is due to having to survive during the Shoah.

-the Shoah definitely fucked his mind up. the constant fear for his parents and himself, and the burning hatred for the nazis and everyone who agreed with them or stood back and let them take over, and just overall a horrible sense of helplessness, definitely contributed to a lot of his future mental fuckery, and to his feelings about God. as an adult, and as a doctor, he took the feeling of helplessness he had as a teenager, and flipped it around dramatically- if god didnt help him then, he’d have to become better than god. he would bring retribution where others didnt, and bring power and life to those god would not help.

-he sold his soul to satan sometime around his mid-30s. [this is a sentence that sounds really fucking weird if u dont know much about tf2.] there are a few reasons behind that, but im only gonna talk about one:

-as i've said, medic spent a lot of time murdering nazis who had tried to go into hiding. that's difficult when theyre trying very, very hard to cover up their past. medic struck a deal with satan- in exchange for the names, aliases, and locations of ex-nazis in hiding, he would kill them and send them straight to hell. his soul was just to sweeten the deal.

-ludwig does a Lot of experiments on captured and dead nazis, especially the painful ones. the ol' "removing a patient's skeleton" story was of a nazi officer medic had caught, and medical licence or not, ludwig would do it again in an instant

-medic's flock of homing pigeons, stolen from a wedding van, are like family to him. the original, stolen generation had more pretentious names, as named by their previous owner- mostly well known scientists and philosophers[Archimedes, Newton, Nietzsche, etc]. most of the pigeons he named himself have biblical, jewish names [Mordecai, Elijah, Rebecca, etc]

-ludwig is absolutely never prim, proper, or orderly. if he is wearing a coat that DOESNT have blood and bird shit on it, wait 5 minutes and check again

-he has a tendency to hyperfocus on something and forget things like "humans need food and water to live". heavy usually helps him remember

-medic snores. loudly. and it sounds fucking awful. heavy is, sadly, a very light sleeper. it takes a loooong time for him to finally be able to sleep through medic's snoring, and it winds up being one of the only things he actually CAN sleep through. god help you if you step on a creaky board halfway down the hall, though, because heavy will wake up in an Instant

-if tf2 were in modern times, ludwig's music taste would include a Lot of kesha, klezmer music, black metal, and so on. its varied, is what im saying

-medic, pyro, and soldier all get along surprisingly well together, because they all have a case of "same brain? same brain!", all of them have issues dealing with other people and have problems with processing/understanding things, have trouble w/ psychotic episodes and the like, overall their minds are all wired oddly but somehow they can understand /each other/

-scout accidentally becomes medic's unofficial adopted daughter and thats a whole post and a half on its own. suffice to say medic would do anything for her

-engie, demo, and medic are all Science Gays

-medic also does his best to help demo with his Absolutely Massive Amounts of Trauma and Self Loathing, by at least being a supportive shoulder to lean on when demo tries to drink himself unconscious to forget it all. hes absolutely terrible most of the time at actually saying anything to help, but he can be a good presence, and he has birds. birds help anything

-he has a very casual fling going with spy, since early on in their time at the base. its usually in a state of "on-again off-again", with the latter usually having something to do with how spy acts with scout.

-obviously theres a lot i could say about heavy and medic's relationship, but to put it briefly- theres a loooong time where both of them are "i dont understand social interaction" gays.

-medic is the "i literally dont understand how to act around people im attracted to or that me being extremely overaffectionate around you is due to the fact that im falling in love with you, i dont catch your vague hints towards the fact that you feel the same about me because you literally need to hit me over the head with something in order to get me to catch onto it" gay

-heavy is the "i have spent so many years repressing so much of myself and keeping quiet and not drawing attention to myself, that i physically cannot bring myself to be up front about the fact that im attracted to you. im also afraid of misintepreting signals and i am instead going to assume your over-affectionate attitude is platonic and i am misreading things" gay

-eventually they figure things out and its good and soft and gay

ok its 3 AM and ive been writing on this for at least an hour and a half and i told Em i would go to bed by now dhgfkhhj 

[uberchain]

Rewind 2017: Post-Thoughts

I flew back in from California a few days ago after the last stage of filming for Ready Up, and the first TF2 LAN of 2017. In the past live Team Fortress 2 events I have been privileged to have been flown out to - i55, Tip of the Hats 2015, DHW 2015, DHS 2016, i58, and Tip of the Hats 2016 - I’ve never felt post-LAN blues like the seventh event I’ve attended thus far. 

LAN, aside from a competition to see who is the best team out of all the teams competing in an equal playing ground, is a social gathering. A coming together of a community that has followed each other for a combined purpose. A forging of relationships with each other over a common passion, to know not simply players as players but players as people - as friends, as comrades, as partners, and as Redeye said: as family. This is something I would like to convey through Ready Up as we wrap up the filming stage and move forward into the editing stage from here on out. This is why me, Dashner, and Sideshow were flown out to Rewind.

Once it’s released, Ready Up may be my last major competitive TF2-related contribution. I’m in no rush to finish it, though. We’re going to take our time with it, most likely extending the date from early 2017 to late 2017 - we just want to make sure we do our best for our sponsor, the competitive community, and everyone who will watch. I am thankful for Dashner’s passion and knowledge for co-direction. I am thankful for Sideshow’s eloquence and confidence for co-interviewing. Both have taken time out of their jobs with OW for this.

I personally always want to show this community that they’re appreciated and loved, despite our differences and frustrations in how we view the same game we play. I work hard, because I feel like the community counts on me to deliver. I know I’m not obliged to do so, but I like to do so. I’ve been told numerous times that this in particular, this is not worth my energy. This is not worth my time for a community that in love is equal in hatred when you make a misstep. Some people have gone as far to tell me I’m clinically insane. These people could be right for all I care.

So what of my family then? The family one of the strongest figureheads in the esports community notices and praises fondly? When Dashner and I caught Redeye literally in the middle of ESL NY’s hallways amidst the tough and scary security, right outside the arena where the sound of matches bled out - standing in this hallway interviewing him then and there, we felt touched by his words. We were thankful for him remembering us past his stardom and status. Redeye has always tended to check in every now and again to smaller esports scenes, to see how they’re doing. It’s sweet and sincere, and knowing this was his nature made those words he gave us feel genuine to me.

ESA Rewind this last week was when I realized that I had said Ready Up would be my last major contribution to comp TF2. Like many others, bills are piling up. I owe debt. I’m rebuilding my design portfolio and figuring out the plan for 2017. There’s a lot of money I’ve invested into other future TF2-related projects I won’t ever see a return on from Valve or the TF2 community. I want to stay, but only if I can afford it (as do most sane people). As expected, the idea of never seeing my friends and family from here again is something I’m not readied up for.

Filming was wrapped on Friday after we arrived early for the European and Australian bootcamping and interviews, and B-roll was left to shoot on Saturday and Sunday, the actual game days. Dashner was manning the big guns for Ready Up (aka our expensive rentals), so I chose to focus on photo coverage for Teamfortress.tv. (There was a lack of photo coverage from i58 due to focus on Ready Up. I recruited Jasbutts and we went ham.) What I also chose to focus on was my international friends from Europe, and that’s when I got to learn more about Se7en.

Kaidus had approached me a while back to talk about his new organization and team he wanted to bring to America for Rewind, as well as future events and LANs. I recognized the Crowns champions, as well as my Full Tilt’s boys and the launching legend. He had named them Team Seven, a tongue-in-cheek response to the criticism Crowns Esports Club had faced back when Kaidus was more heavily involved in coaching it. 

I like the storyline FROYOTECH presented for this LAN’s victory: they came back from their 3rd Place slump at i58 and proved that they were still one of the strongest teams to be reckoned with. Habib’s mother was there, who kept asking Jasbutts about how the game worked as she spectated it, and finally watched her son win. Nursey has successfully shut up a good narrow-minded portion of the community and became the first female TF2 player to win an international LAN in the highest bracket. Paddie and Freestate finally became part of the FROYOTECH victory roster. 

As it usually goes, though, I root for the teams I’m asked to be involved with. This was on another level. I screamed my lungs out for Se7en. I knew their flaws and their criticisms. I didn’t care. It was like i55′s Ascent and i58′s Full Tilt. And some of these were Full Tilt. I liked Crowns way back then too. These were my boys. This was my team. I wanted them to win. This time, I knew their history and their players the most out of any team I had rooted for. European Prem TF2 was the scene I was watching the most at one point in my time here. FROYO got it in the end, and of course I didn’t want Se7en to lose, but I had a worse fear - I didn’t want them to leave. 

Again, coincidentally - Rewind was the seventh TF2 live event I flew out to. It might be the last TF2 live event I see them at too. I didn’t realize how much I actually gave a shit about this until it hit me, that this could be the last time I’d see them play TF2. It could be the last time I’d see them attend a LAN, or go pro in another game. CS:GO or OW, maybe? I don’t know, I want them all to keep going and not...disappear? Jasmine Tea is disbanding, one of them is going off to focus on school. That also hurt, it’s always amazing having the Australians at a TF2 LAN. Yet this one for Se7en, why? My colleagues & friends feel similarly, but it’s like why do we feel like that? People come and go all the time. And underneath it all, I’m just a fan who does more shit than I should out of my love for this game and this community. What worth is my opinion? 

Every time I run into Sideshow IRL, it’s uplifting to know he’s still around somewhere else. When we say our goodbyes, I usually make it a point to tell the dribbler, “let this not be the last time; we will see each other again”. It might be because we also cross paths in OW things, but it’s something I make a point to tell everybody in TF2 for my farewells, as an incentive. A promise. 

I went to Blizzcon. Aside from the interviews we got there, I’ve talked to the ex-TF2 pros who have fire re-lit in their eyes, who are being appreciated, rewarded, and shine on in OW. I can’t be upset. I too was treated very well by Blizzard while I was there, to the point of tears. I don’t want to be another one of those TF2 fans who wants to hold back somebody from moving on to other opportunities, or telling them not to quit. If it’s outside of their priorities, then I’m not important, and TF2 is not important. 

I understand more than ever after Blizzcon and Tip of the Hats when people need to go. There are other priorities in life. There are other things to pursue. This is why I remember telling him, “wherever your journeys may take you”. So why is it that - almost selfishly, as though I have rejected any concept of what I just learned about not holding people back, especially if I tell myself I have no significance to this player, this person I realized I ended up looking up to more than I thought - I wish I’d said, “please don’t leave yet”? 

And it went similarly for many other people that I realized that, how much I looked up to them as players and colleagues, then as friends and family - and it’s like...the idea I might never see these people represent again. That I might never see these people again. That sense of absolute finale, knowing that all things eventually come to an end; knowing that people that you are proud to say are part of your life, your passion, your hope, could be temporary due to the distances you might not be able to bridge...

That every farewell hug I shared, every departing Uber I waved at, even my own Uber I was escorted to by the last friend I’d see before my flight as he turned around and walked away while my car drove off - 

Fuck me, no. Not yet. It seems ridiculously melodramatic for real life. It’s almost laughable, the fact I haven’t learned. None of us have learned, to be honest. The idea of leaving for good, even on my end, never seeing those people again - I haven’t readied up for that at all. 

Rewind it all for me. Take me back, remind me of why we fight so hard to attend these things. Whether you’re a player, a former pro, a production crewmember, LAN organizer holy shit the LAN organizers, or a spectator. The post-LAN blues and the LAN high that just overwhelm any sense of practical reasoning you had. And then we end up going back when we thought we were out, and we don’t learn - because we love this game too much. We love each other too much. 

You desire the friendships and the relationships you’ve forged stronger together in the real world. Your heart aches to hear the laughter and see the smiles of the people you’ve befriended beyond the internet. You say shit like, “let this not be the last time, we’ll see each other again” so you can fight not just for the game, but for them. For your community. 

LAN, aside from a competition to see who is the best team out of all the teams competing in an equal playing ground, is a social gathering. A coming together of a community that has followed each other for a combined purpose. A forging of relationships with each other over a common passion, to know not simply players as players but players as people - as friends, as comrades, as partners, and as Redeye said: as family.

[ticnottock]

2016 Top 10 Video Games

2016 is easily one of the best years for games. So many good games that I didn't have time to play all that could be contenders. Oh well, such is life.

Biggest Disappointment: Deus Ex: Mankind Divided

Mankind Divided was just not up to par with the mainstays of the series. Where previous games were playgrounds for exploration, MD seemed to be more streamlined. Past games also had tons of level variation, globe trotting and moody set pieces. MD is beautiful but is spent almost entirely in one city. Its ending seemed rushed, so much so that I didn't even bother with the downloadable post-release content.

Best Game of 2015 I played in 2016: Mad Max

A great Mad Max story, semi-related to the 2015 movie. Addictive and tight game-play loops engaged me in its brutal open world filled with violence and terrific characters.   

Best Re-Release: Amnesia Collection

I’m not going to re-play these scary as hell games but you should. The writing is literally the best in any games I have ever played. Worth all the intense screaming.

Best Game of 2016 I Haven't Had Time to Play Yet: Final Fantasy XV

I’ve heard and seen good things and surprisingly I’m interested, despite not having any desire to play a proper FF game since Tactics on the GBA.   

10: Darkest Dungeon

Despite being a randomly generated 2D strategy dungeon crawler, Darkest Dungeon captures the mood of Lovecraftian horror perfectly. Fun, challenging and one hell of an end game difficulty curb, I can’t recommend it for everyone but it is for sure a favorite of mine.

9: COD: Infinite Warfare

I knew I wanted a FPS set in various and grand locations in space but I did not expect that a Call of Duty campaign would deliver exactly what I wanted. Good game play, interesting characters and a serviceable story only add to the beautiful space vistas.

8: Hyper Light Drifter

Beautiful, minimalist and a top tier soundtrack make this Zelda/Metroid inspired top down adventure one of my favorites. It certainly plays its story close to the vest leaving it wide-open for interpretation in the best of ways. Difficult enough to make the fun challenging, engaging and, only at times,  frustrating.      

7: Overwatch

Easily the best team shooter since Team Fortress 2. Beautifully designed, noob friendly, meticulously balanced and continually supported (for free) with new maps and characters, this is and easy recommend for any gamer.

6: Dishonored 2

Massive maps, game play adaptive to any play style and immersive world building make this sequel an improvement on the original. Not the most friendly to newcomers, it can take a few deaths to understand the mechanics but it is worth mastering. 

5: Hitman

I hated 2012′s Hitman Absolution and I was quite convinced that another Hitman game would ever be the same. I was wrong. Hitman went back to the roots of the series. Huge levels that encourage experimentation and evolving challenges make this the best Hitman yet. Worth picking up at least the the first episode to embrace the chaos simulator that is Hitman.

4: Watch Dogs 2

It is rare that an open world game is able to get its hooks in me but WD2 got me good. The world is alive with tons of interactions (you can pets dogs!!) collectibles, side missions and technology to hack. Surprisingly well written and diverse characters lead a fun, pulpy plot through a beautiful (albeit abridged) San Francisco.

3: XCOM 2

A strategy rpg obsessed with numbers and overwhelming odds, XCOM 2 is not for the faint of heart. Every choice, be it on the battlefield or in base management, is a nerve wracking exercise in utilitarianism. One wrong decision can doom your game 8 hours later, leading to a frantic ‘where did I go wrong?’ frenzy. Unforgiving and highly addictive: I cannot stop playing despite knowing I will most likely never have a winning campaign.   

2: TitanFall 2

I bought TF2 for the multiplayer but ended up spending hours completing 100% of the single-player campaign. One of the best FPS campaigns I have played since Half-Life 2 and so wildly creative with its set-pieces I barely noticed I was on rails the entire time. Also: Its multiplayer is so good, I finally uninstalled BF4. Yeah, that good.

1: DOOM

Before release, this game was destined to be a failure. I mean, how could it capture the feel of old school DOOM and still be appealing to the modern shooter fan? It did it. It fucking did it. 

Fast, brutally beautiful and gracefully self-aware. DOOM is the best of the old refreshed with the new.