hurt prompts - 【accepting.】

                         a wayward explosion– a rocket ? a bomb ? no,  grenade. that was what had brought the demo to his knees– or rather, to his side. there was no warning, only the familiar sound of metal rattling on hard ground && then an almighty force that sent him flying ( he would deny later that it was unceremoniously– he most definitely flew with grace ) into the nearest wall, his head cracking against rock && unconsciousness enveloping him.he doesn’t know how long he was laying there in the dirt as the battle continued to rage around him, all he knew was he was most definitely going to kill that demo when when he recovered– eventually. there was a hand– two hands, handling him with the care && firmness only a doctor could possess. ah, so it was his teammate who had found him first before the job of his counterpart could be finished. there was a ringing in his ears && words were being uttered nearby. the owner of the voice was demanding ( begging ? ), for him to open his eyes.

                         it was a great effort to do as he was told, one of his eyes cracking open && blinking away the dust && the grime that had gathered there during his unconsciousness. he lay on his back, his weapons strewn a few feet away– damaged or not, he couldn’t tell. but, more importantly, there was a figure above him, saying something– he could make out black hair– glasses, a long discoloured white coat.

                                   medic.

                         at long last, he opened his mouth && he spoke, a smirk playing upon his chapped lips as a joke bubbled into the air.

                 ❝ doc… I think I’ve gone blind in one eye. ❞  

               ❝ phew ! saved me hide back there, mate, I owe yeh one. ❞

                          he clapped the pyro on their shoulder, grin wide just as it was before just as the administrator had announced that the match had been completed and the RED’s had been victorious. cheers were heard throughout the field && demo joined in, producing yet another bottle of scummy from somewhere on his person and taking a generous swig from it.

               ❝ oh, shite ! ❞

               ❝ ye’ve got a snake behind yeh ! ❞

                           there were many sounds behind the sniper that followed that outcry: the sound of heavy footfalls quickly coming closer, the thunk of something blunt meeting flesh, then the shattering of glass && finally the all too familiar thump of a body hitting the floor. once the sniper had turned, demo had rightened himself from his defensive stance, the remainders of the bottle of his beloved scrumpy held uselessly in a clenched fist as he stared at the body of the spook that he was unsure was dead or dying on the floor ( dead, definitely dead if the nudging of his foot said anything ).

               ❝ ... wasted a good bottle o’ scrumpy ye gobshite. ❞

tf2 starters 【accepting.】

               ❝ i didn’t know it was yer damn energy drink ! yeh shouldn’t have put it next to me scrumpy ya git ! ❞  

                         distracted, he was, too busy to notice his surroundings other than the grenades being fired from his weapon && into the fray below him, his laughter && war cries carrying across the field once said grenades exploded-- a great deal of satisfaction followed once a portion of the enemy team had been sent to respawn which allowed most members of his own team to advance.

               ❝ ― and let that be a bloody lesson to yeh ! ❞

                             the holler was called down to the remains that were soon picked up by the respawn machine, soon to spit the fallen back out && into the fight. demo took a swig of scrumpy, savouring the taste on his tongue, then throwing the bottle down from where he had perched. the gratification was to be short lived, however, as the enemy’s spy ( ironically the few members of the opposing team left that had not fallen with the rest ) snuck up behind the scotsman, blade in hand && raised high.

               ❝ ― ay, watch it, laddie ! ❞  

                         a rough, callused hand grabbed the scout’s collar, hauling the smaller form back-- back towards the safety that was beside the scotsman. an eye was fixated on the area that the bostonian was seconds from running across but soon fell onto the younger man before it.

               ❝ ye need to watch where yer goin’, lad.  ❞  

                         the barrel of the demo’s grenade launcher indicated to the doorway’s frame && on closer inspection, the sight of a dozen sticky bombs littered the other side-- ready && waiting to be detonated on whomever was unfortunate to come across them first. 

               ❝ wouldn’ta been a nice respawn-- I would know !  ❞  

                         the seriousness on Demo’s face was expelled and replaced by a toothy grin, a free hand coming to clap the scout on the back with an unsurprising amount of force && vigor. as simple the concept of respawn was to everybody on the team, it benefitted most to not be sent through the contraption when avoidable. 

                             ❛ OH ,  THEY’RE GOING TO HAVE TO GLUE YOU BACK TOGETHER ―                                                                                         ― IN HELL !! ❜