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TF2: Defect 16Striding through the kitchen, Soldier glanced over at Medic, who was sat at the table alone. "You alright there? You look a bit tired."
Medic nodded, blinking. "I've been...ah...busy."
Soldier hummed, and bent to scoop a beer out of the fridge. "Don't suppose you've thought about what to do about the BLU Sniper yet?" He offered Medic a bottle.
Taking it, Medic shrugged. "I...I don't know." He studied his beer, before turning to Soldier. "What would you do?"
Soldier lowered the bottle, and rubbed at his chin. "Hn...Depends on what you want from your encounter."
Medic stared silently at the worn table, and his jaw tightened. "I vant an explaination. And for him to suffer."
"Explaination, eh? Thought about capturing the bastard?"
Medic looked up. "I can do that?"
"Rules of war, we can kidnap for forty eight hours, anything done in that time is completely within contract. After that, it's kill or release." Soldier smirked. "Skipped over the finer details of kidnapping, eh?"
TF2: Defect 9"Ten minute warning, guys! Weapons at the ready and meet outside the manor!" Scout called cheerfully, banging on the temporary infirmary's door. "Come on out!"
"Vas?" Medic glanced round at Heavy, who was already shouldering his bandolier. "But zhe battle is not till tomorrow!"
Heavy scooped his gun up, and nodded. "Is...good luck ritual. Soldier and Engineer believe is good for team." He grinned. "Come, Doktor. Bring your weapon."
Medic grabbed his Blutsauger, and followed Heavy. "Vh-vhat happens in zhese...good luck rituals?" He caught up with Heavy, who smiled, and adjusted his grip on Sasha.
"We practise hand to hand combat...give others tips..." Heavy sighed. "If one enemy is giving us a problem, we report it." Heavy set his gun down, and crossed his arms, nodding at Soldier. "Heavy Weapons Guy, reporting in."
Medic studied everyone, as Scout moved to stand opposite him, winking. "Scout, reportin' in."
Standing between Heavy and Sniper, Medic squared his shoulders, and lifted his
TF2: Defect 4Medic blinked nervously at the shutter door, trying hard not to hyperventilate.
He couldn't remember breakfast at all, but felt sure that whatever he had eaten was going to make a repeat performance, until a warm hand pressed against his back.
"Doc...breathe." Engineer patted his back warmly. "Setup's about to begin. Got everything you need?"
"Ja..." Medic breathed, hefting his Medigun up as the sirens began to wail, and the shutter opened.
Training the medigun on Heavy, Medic ran after him, pulling the lever back to deploy the healing beam as the team made their way past the capture points, punctuated with shouted jeers and many demands for a dispenser from Scout. Heavy surveyed the open area carefully, noting the minute to go. "How much charge, Doktor?" He asked, moving to stand on the first capture point. Medic checked, his heart in his throat. "76%"
Sniper stood with them, pulling the string on his bow experimentally. "Engie's stuff is up an running if you need refills."
The man in glasses who was filling out papers looked up, and held a finger up at the large, redfaced woman, who was clutching a bag in badly painted fingernails. As he finished the last line of his paperwork, he set the pen down and folded his hands on top of the crisp, white sheets.
"Now, what can I do for you, my duck?" He asked. She bristled again, and pulled the bag up to the counter. He waited expectantly.
"This is the wrong colour!" She snapped. "I want a full refund for it!"
He tugged it out of the bag, and unfolded the box carefully. Inside, sat a set of pristine, ivory sheets. He looked up. "What colour should it be?"
The woman started. "What?"
He rolled his eyes, looking impatient. "Are you colourblind?"
She looked confused. "No, I am not! How dare-"
"Well, in that case, why did you pick the wrong colour?" He folded the offending sheet back into the box. "You can pick another colour, but I can tell you right now you'll be paying full price for them. We don't do refunds
AC: Valentine'sShaun hated cooking.
He glared at the oven, convinced it was breaking on purpose. The pie he'd hand made wasn't the best in the world, but it should have been okay. Well, he was sure he was following the instructions properly. Nervous and convinced he was wrong, Shaun grabbed the cooking book again, and began reading through the instructions, step by step.
Roll the pastry until thin...well, it had been a little lumpy, but nothing wrong with that, right?
Oven bake for 30 minutes at gas mark 5...
Shaun lowered the book with a groan, only to have it drowned out by the fire alarm. He hurriedly turned the oven off and opened the door, gazing miserably at his failed attempt at cooking.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Shaun glanced over at Desmond and sighed. "I wanted to make a valentine's dinner for you. You know I can't cook." He flailed slighty. Desmond raised an eyebrow, and crouched down next to Shaun. "Okay. And...why are you dressed like that?"
AC: CosplayIt was late. Far too late, no one else seemed to be around the empty streets.
No one except for one man, who strode idly through the empty church, frowning slightly.
"Humans are wonderful." He sighed, digging his hands into the suit pants he wore, staring at the surrounding paintings and murals in awe. "I've seen galaxies burn. But this-"
He turned, the long tan overcoat he wore twirling with him. "Gorgeous."
The man turned, his mouth twisting as he heard something clatter behind him. "Well, well, well. Taking a couple of souviners?" He asked, leaning against the doorframe.
Staring up from where he was digging through a chest was a very odd looking man.
"You want a share of the swag or something, mate?" Eyebrows narrowed. "And just who are you?"
"Me? Oh no, by all means, you take the...uh...swag." He scratched his nose. "I'm the Doctor. Nice to meet you...?"
The man stood, grinning. A gold tooth glinted. "Captain Jack Sparrow."
The Doctor stepped around the pile of discarded furniture,
TF2: Defect 17Blinking at the ceiling of Sniper's camper, Medic wondered what time it was. He'd slipped to the floor and almost fallen asleep.
A soft groan came from the couch behind him, and Medic turned to study Sniper and Spy. They were sprawled out, Spy pinned down and writhing underneath Sniper. Biting his lip, Medic wondered if he could leave silently without disturbing the pair. Judging by the noises Spy was making, it wouldn't be long before the few clothes they were wearing would be on the floor.
The camper rocked violently as something hammered on the door. Sniper and Spy shot upright and Medic blinked. Spy chuckled, and pulled Sniper back down.
Sniper grumbled and went to wrench the door open. Heavy was frowning. "We are under attack. Is Doktor...?" He spotted Medic, who grinned and tried to stand up, only to fall past Sniper, and into Heavy's arms. "What have you done?"
"Er...we were drinking..." Sniper scrubbed the back of his head. "Spook, mask on. We're under attack."
AC: CoverupStudying the board in front of him, Shaun hummed as Desmond picked up a pawn, and slid it two steps ahead of his left hand rook.
Sliding his own piece out, Shaun smirked. "Never took you as one that would enjoy chess." He commented wryly. Desmond made a face, and slid his rook one step ahead. "Malik and I-"
"Altair." Shaun corrected quietly.
"Yeah...used to play all the time. Ezio used to play Leonardo as well, although Ezio always lost." Shaun slid his bishop into line with his two pawns, watching as Desmond slid his king forwards.
"Why does that not surprise me?" Shaun asked, studying the board. "How are you doing? With the Bleeding Effect?"
"It's..." Desmond steepled his fingers together, and scowled as Shaun slid his bishop down to the base of the board, taking Desmond's Knight. "Goddamn it, you suck." He sighed. "It's hard. It's getting harder and harder to seperate what is real and what I think is real."
He moved a few more pieces, and groaned. "You're a fucking wizard, right? Yo
Stuck The car sputtered and shook as it came to an almost silent stop. The engine had gone silent as the horn beeped loudly through the dark night. The orange gas light blinked mockingly at the woman behind the wheel. It was making fun of her; she knew it was making fun of her. Grabbing the black cellular phone on the passenger seat, she looked at it with full intention of calling somebody to come help her.
“Oh, what the hell?!”
The “no service” sign was mocking her at the same exact time. The horn beeped loudly as she slammed her head against it once again. The day was out to get her in general. She had arrived at all her classes late, and her son was sick with the flu. The babysitter was able to watch him as she went to her late night classes. Giving a heavy sigh, she lifted her head off the wheel to look out the window. Drops of water pooled on the windshield as rain started to fall in a pitter-patter pattern. She didn’t quite understand the message th
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More