Cry Havoc
And let slip the dogs of war.(( TF2 RP blog for a BLU sniper stationed at Refinery named Abigail Brighton. Generally NSFW. ))
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(( TF2 RP blog for a BLU sniper stationed at Refinery named Abigail Brighton. Generally NSFW. ))
The creature was licking it’s wound when the Spy decided to peer inside. The injury was beyond irritating, and further setting it on edge. It didn’t want to be trapped here. It just wanted food and shelter. It wanted peace. It wasn’t even sure how it got in the base in the first place. But it seemed it would have to fight for it’s own survival.
When Antoinette eased the door open the lion was quick to respond. It let out a vicious growl and pounced at the figure. It would not be caught off guard again. It lunged out towards the Spy, it’s claws aimed for her chest.
The last thing she expected was for her eyes to fall onto the bulky chassis of a wild beast. At first a small look of shock rapidly appeared before she shook it off for a more apathetic expression. She just finished healing from her last interaction and now this? It released a virulent snarl which forced the BLU to step back. Just in time too or she may have witnessed her stomach being torn to bits. “Merde.” Hissing through her clenched teeth, she fumbled about for her weapons.
A knife that may be useful if properly handled and a gun..with one measly bullet. Antoinette took another cautious step back. She didn’t have enough room to think about her actions. With her knife in hand, she knew embracing this battle alone would be suicide.
*Christ. How long has she been wandering through the dark corners of the base now? She clicks on the flashlight to check the time, only to remember she never took her watch the last time she left her room. Well fuck. With a click, she’s bathed in darkness again.
Where the fuck did that critter go?
Momentarily, she considers just heading back to the rec room and waiting for the lion to attack again, but she dismisses the thought with a snort… wait, what’s that sound? She rounds the corner, flashlight at the ready, and shines it on the sight of a woman she’s unfamiliar with… and that damned lion. Excellent.
She fishes out her crowbar— with luck, she won’t need to use her shortstop’s last four shots— and charges in, figuring her light already blew her cover.*
*Shortstop. Check.
Crowbar. Check.
Scattergun. Check.
Ammo? Still a negative.
Whatever, let’s go hunt some lions. In a restless fit, Brighton gears up, flashlight in hand but off, and she stalks her way through the RED base, keeping her footfalls as light as she can muster.*
*Alone at the end of the corridor, for the first time in days, Brighton manages to finally doze off, but it’s a restless sleep and light even for her. She drifts in and out of fitful dreams, images of distorted rooms, scenes of suffocation and unnamed distresses, abstract figures looming out of reach and unharmed by all the power she can muster… immobility. That’s it. That’s why it’s all so distressing; she’s powerless and slow in these fleeting visions.
Until the slightest noise wakes her, she carries on through her nightmare scape.*
blu-tkrumble replied to your post: You callin’ my boyfriend a pretty boy?
What the fuck is Allison going on about now?
——
*shrug* Guess I insulted her boyfriend? Like I keep up with who’s fucking who and what pisses them off.
*The amusement from her conversation with Jenny worn off, Brighton finds herself sitting at the end of a corridor (she assumes it’s the dormitory’s corridor, given its direct attachment to the rec room), brooding. The itching sensation creeping through her skin is noticeable again, now that nothing is present to distract her; she scratches at her arms and fingers harder than necessary so she’ll focus on that more than the budding headache she’d managed to ignore all day.
Must be the lack of sleep kicking in. Sure as shit isn’t helping that ache in her bones from her excursion alone in the storm before the avalanche hit.
She sighs and leans her head back against the wall. Masking this shit’s not going to be easy to keep up after a while, especially if she doesn’t get some sleep; no way in hell will she be one of the weak ones when everyone turns on each other. Her fingers itch something awful, and they drift to her pocket on autopilot in search of the cigarette pack that isn’t there.*
Auuuurgh, motherfucker!
*She knocks her head back against the wall harder this time, inhaling and exhaling loudly through her nose, vainly attempting to find her zen. That shit’s hard to find these days.
A cold, sick agitation settles in her chest that has nothing to do with the cold invading the base, and she closes her eyes in search of a few minutes’ sleep.*
I was fucking thinking strategically; I don’t trust anyone to not flip a shit, so I wanna be armed to high hell. But fine, sure, let’s shoot some animals or some shit like that while we’re out here.
*snorts* Yeah, so? Look, Rockette, I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but I don’t run away, so speed ain’t my crutch. I can take as good as I can give, which, by the way, is a fucking lot. And I ain’t blowing smoke up your dress, either.
*grumbles* Besides. You try living in my head when there’s jack shit to do and nothing left to smoke. *scratches at her arm irritably. She’d been so preoccupied the last few days that she hadn’t noticed her skin crawling until now. She growls in aggravation.*
Jesus fucking cock, I am so sick of snow.
You bet we’re gonna, cupcake. *She sure as hell wasn’t in the mood to deal with the selfish bitch she had for company, so will just… Try and reserve her energy for when Brighton decides to do something stupid.* If you survive, the rest of the team WILL too and I will make sure of that. *Maybe she was overreacting, but that was a sensitive topic for her as hard as it was to admit. Then again, people knew she easily got angry at everything, so whatever.*
*The Soldier dedicated herself to look around for both prey and base remains as she listened. Other were the person, she would snort at the remark - Brighton was taller than even herself and dangerous, however. It was easier to picture her beating the crap out of a fairly sized animal on her own now. She shrugged.* This could be a good chance to quit smoking, come to think of it. *She put a hand over her mouth trying to contain a chuckle; whoops, was I just being a smartass now?*
… We’re two on that. *She stopped at the sight of apparent structural ruins in front of them, painted in a certainly familiar blue tone.*
*She can’t stop the smirk that crosses her face at the soldier’s bravado.*
Oh yeah, how are you gonna stop people from getting sick? Can’t keep them alive with your budding optimism. What are you gonna do when they start dropping here and there, and slowly the people close to the dearly departed start to lose their marbles? What are you gonna do? Keep your chin up? *and her expression twists into something darker, something bitter* Threaten them? Because that shit don’t work on crazy people. They don’t care.
*What was a cocky smirk not even a minute ago is a full-on scowl now. She’s starting to tunnel vision in her rapidly-growing anger, an icy sensation washes over her as a prickle that starts in her chest radiates outward. She tells herself it’s nothing to get mad about. Keep your cool. Now isn’t the time. Keep cool.
It only works so much. She clenches her fists, not noticing how near the base remains they are, and growls out.*
Not. Fucking. Funny.
*And her foot catches on a chunk of rubble.*
Motherfucker.
(Source: murdertownbitch)
*She’s starting to wonder if she’s even digging in the right spot; she doesn’t hear anything, no muffled voice beneath the snow, just sees the odd indents and hopes it’s something to go off of. The longer she digs, the more she doubts they’re indicative of anything. Her arms and back are killing her still from her hike back to base earlier, and her performance now slows for it it. Fuck.
She’s not even sure why this is important, if that’s the case at all.
As she’s on the verge of giving up and seeking a better means of digging, her gloved fingers make contact with something that isn’t snow, and the snow moves as she hears a familiar voice utter her name.
Excellent.*
Hey, March, I’m gonna need you to help if you can.
*She says as she pushes the snow away so it won’t fall on the still-buried pyro.*
It’s slow progress, even with both their efforts.
Avery is wary of melting more snow. There’s a freezing puddle at her feet, and it would make things worse to accidentally back down later. Shivering, she does her best to push away the snow. Eventually she manages to crawl out, relying on significant help from Brighton.
She feels the urge to cling onto the Scout out of relief and gratitude, but her clothes are rather wet and cold. It probably wasn’t the best idea, she thought as her teeth chattered. The Scout was still exhausted; she’d probably get sick.
Instead, Avery beams at Brighton, trying to convey her thanks because it’s still difficult to talk. And right now she just really wants to leave this white grave that was once her room.
For a moment, she thinks of her meager belongings buried underneath, but at least she still has her blankets and flare gun. Her smile faltering somewhat, the Pyro gestures to the door.
*She gives a curt nod to Avery as the pyro beams up at her. She’s exhausted, every bone in her body aches deep withing, and she’s still not sure what compelled her to even get involved in this situation, so Avery’s gratitude is more than she wants to deal with at the moment.
As she helps pull the pyro to the door, it occurs to her that being buried under a pile of snow for god knows how long and standing wet in below-freezing air can’t be comfortable. With a grimace, she quietly shimmies out of her bomber jacket and plops it over Avery’s shoulders.*
All right, March. Let’s go.
Pff, speak for yourself; I don’t give a fuck if we don’t need any more ammo, I’d rather have it anyway. *she pulls out her shortstop and checks the chamber out of routine, knowing it hasn’t changed since she last checked it a half hour ago. Her scowl only deepens, even at the opportunity to brag about her kill.*
Hm. Yeah, I did. Fucking mauling asshole sprung up on me when I got lost. Which wouldn’t have even happened if the fucking power didn’t shut down while I was out there.
And I was planting a garden in the fucking snow. What do you think I was doing out there?
What I meant is that this should be enough for us to get around with, private. Most bears should be hibernating, I think… *From the corner of her eye, Jenny spots a deer running on the woods. She pats the shotgun* … So if God’s by our side this time, we could even catch some extra meat. We’re in a CRITICAL situation, Brighton - we need to think STRATEGICALLY.
*Rolls her eyes* Glad to see you’re still as sweet as always. Still, that was a stupid move. You’re a SCOUT, for Christ’s sake! It’s true that you guys can beat a Heavy by yourselves, but don’t think your speed can help if you have your feet surrounded by SNOW. *She tries to see what’s left of their base from a distance. Was there really anything left, though?*
I was fucking thinking strategically; I don’t trust anyone to not flip a shit, so I wanna be armed to high hell. But fine, sure, let’s shoot some animals or some shit like that while we’re out here.
*snorts* Yeah, so? Look, Rockette, I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but I don’t run away, so speed ain’t my crutch. I can take as good as I can give, which, by the way, is a fucking lot. And I ain’t blowing smoke up your dress, either.
*grumbles* Besides. You try living in my head when there’s jack shit to do and nothing left to smoke. *scratches at her arm irritably. She’d been so preoccupied the last few days that she hadn’t noticed her skin crawling until now. She growls in aggravation.*
Jesus fucking cock, I am so sick of snow.
(Source: murdertownbitch)
Oh yeah? *snorts* I gotta couple first hand experiences that say different, but fuck, we’re tryin’ ta get along, aren’t we?
*glares* I’m a sociopath, not a psychotic. There’s a difference.
And fuck if I know, I just said I ain’t starting anything right now. *starts walking*
Really? Cuz I don’t give a shit. Just two fancy words for bugfuck.
*waves a hand in her direction dismissivly*
Me neither, but that don’t mean I’m gonna go outta my way ta be your best goddamn buddy.
*tenses at the word and whips around, growling out low*
You wanting an encore? Cuz I can show you bugfuck. I can change my mind, if that’s what you’re trying to do.
*smirks a little, looks who’s pushing buttons now*
Ooh, you’re real fuckin’ scary. You try anythin’ an’ Walter’ll toss ya out on your ass. You can go rot in th’ snow with your stupid bear. You’re in my base, bitch, I got backup heah.
*literally growls and stalks back toward Tess, poking her in the chest*
Listen here, you freckle-faced little cunt. I’m trying my damnedest to be civil, but keep pressing. Yeah, daddy’ll find out, but not until it’s too late. Keep trying. You got no backup right now; it’s just you and me. I have it my way, and they won’t even find your shadow.
(Source: murdertownbitch)
*snorts* Point. Plus how do I know ya won’t try an’ get me back for stink bombin’ your room? I ain’t in no hurry for someone ta try an’ hang me again.
Oh, don’t worry, Princess; I’ll get you back for that, but now ain’t the time.
Hmph. Guess you ain’t completely psychotic.
*eyes narrow*
I’m not a psychotic.
Oh yeah? *snorts* I gotta couple first hand experiences that say different, but fuck, we’re tryin’ ta get along, aren’t we?
*glares* I’m a sociopath, not a psychotic. There’s a difference.
And fuck if I know, I just said I ain’t starting anything right now. *starts walking*
(Source: murdertownbitch)
missjennydoe replied to your post : *Happens to overhear the Scout’s frustra
*Lifts a shotgun* Walter gave this to me for a while. There’s not many bullets
up in this thing, naturally, so we have to be careful. *Marchs towards the
doors*——-
*She absently pats the shortstop on her side and scowls.*
Yeah, all my ammo is under a fuckton of snow, so I’ve only got four shots to go on.
*She proceeds along with the soldier, wishing she’d had the foresight to grab her bag that she’d dropped by the couch in the shop before she’d run out.*
While we’re over there, I want to look for my fucking bear. I’ll be pissed if we starve when that thing is here.
Fair enough. Don’t think we’d need more. *Well, in reality, she hoped so. As they walked out, Jenny was checking if the shotgun already had bullets until Brighton was done talking. She frowned at the Scout*
… You… Killed a bear? *If it were for her she won’t believe it, but Brighton won’t be actually telling something they wouldn’t see later buried in the snow as evidence, would she? Both a proud smirk and impressed look formed on her face. Under the helmet and covered by the scarf, but still* Well I’d be GLAD to help! Gee, private, just wait to see the faces of those REDs when we get back!
*She loaded the gun* How did that even HAPPEN, anyway?! I mean- What were you doing OUTSIDE when you killed it, for starters?
Pff, speak for yourself; I don’t give a fuck if we don’t need any more ammo, I’d rather have it anyway. *she pulls out her shortstop and checks the chamber out of routine, knowing it hasn’t changed since she last checked it a half hour ago. Her scowl only deepens, even at the opportunity to brag about her kill.*
Hm. Yeah, I did. Fucking mauling asshole sprung up on me when I got lost. Which wouldn’t have even happened if the fucking power didn’t shut down while I was out there.
And I was planting a garden in the fucking snow. What do you think I was doing out there?
(Source: murdertownbitch)
Oh, yeah. I killed it.
*she takes a step back as the rabbit girl starts to freak out*
Chill, dude, it’s not even in this base. Besides, it’s actually more like a pile of meat that ain’t butchered right yet than a bear since I skinned it already and gutted it… Unless that ain’t why you’re flipping a shit on me. *almost grins* In which case, sorry for offing one of your furry woodland critter friends.
Well, it’s just that bears are scary, okay? They’re like sharks. They eat people. And if they don’t eat the person, they maul them. It’s just the way it is.
/oh, she is not amused at that comment. She makes a sour, bitchy face at Brighton, cocks her head to the side and folds her arms/
…… You really wanna mess with me? I’m not looking for a fight. But I won’t hesitate to whoop your ass. They can’t throw me out if we’re snowed in.
*At the mention of mauling, Brighton absently rubs at the shoulder where the bear bit. Sure, the wound went away after she respawned, but the memory of the pain almost makes her flinch. Yeah, they’re scary all right, but like hell she admit it out loud.*
Yeah, guess they’re kind of a big deal.
*She snorts a little at Allison’s retort.*
Really, sugartits? You wanna start something with a bitch who took out a bear? While she’s out of cigarettes?
*Despite her words, she’s actually grinning, oddly enough.*
(Source: murdertownbitch)