Misplaced Lens Cap
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ
almost home
occasionally subtle
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
d e v o n
#extradirty
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we're not kids anymore.
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
DEAR READER
dirt enthusiast
Love Begins
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Peter Solarz
Acquired Stardust
oozey mess
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Claire Keane
seen from Singapore
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@grimmmedic
(I do profusely apologize for promising to come back, maybe writing one reply, and disappearing again. TLDR: I live in America and my government is Speedrunning Fascism at this point. Which is kinda stressful.)
(I'm trying to work so I can stockpile food and supplies. To add to the fun, my car broke down, so now I have to find a new one because I need a vehicle to get to and from work. So. I'm sorry I've been quiet. Life has just been a lot).
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Aldrich Says; Fuck ICE. <3
Today is the day you write to your senators, house representatives, & President Biden about enforcing Section 3 of the 14th Amendment to bar Donald Trump from taking office.
Congress: www.usa.gov/elected-offi...
President: www.whitehouse.gov/contact/share/
Credit to @creep-dot-commercial
(In addendum, if you guys hate calling people, here are the phone numbers you can text to reach the President and Vice President as well) 1-302-404-0880 - President Biden 1-310-861-2977 - Vice President Harris
Today is the day you write to your senators, house representatives, & President Biden about enforcing Section 3 of the 14th Amendment to bar Donald Trump from taking office.
Congress: www.usa.gov/elected-offi...
President: www.whitehouse.gov/contact/share/
Credit to @creep-dot-commercial
"Conversations are a lot like teeth, you can only have so many."
Laurent sighed, but nodded in agreement. He understood the sentiment, glancing out at the icy landscape. "Oui. But like teeth, I have learned that they can also be repaired, added, and lost." The spy mumbled, idly messing with the knife in his sleeve. "It is unfortunate as it is necessary in our line of work, but I am sure I am preaching to the choir here, so to speak." The man chuckled, shivering a bit at a rather chill gust of wind. This had to be one of the COLDEST contracts he had ever been on, dressed in a much more durable suit for the occasion.
The burly ARC Medic grunted in agreement, not seeming to mind the chilly air or the snow slowly falling from the almost ever present blanket of gray clouds overhead.
"I was more thinking that too many conversations would be a headache."
The tall German said, giving a slight, wry smile as he fished in the pockets of his overcoat for his cigarettes. After finding the pack he offered one to the Spy before returning to searching for his lighter.
"I am... admittedly not a people person."
Laurent politely declined, offering a polite smile. "Non. I have not smoked, and I do not intend on starting such a habit." Now, he didn't look down on anyone who did. No, why would he? Men had their reasons and needs for stress relief in one form or another. It was not on him to be God's dictator.
"I can be if I need to be, but I do not find myself seeking out company either. People are... finnicky, to say the least. They never say what they mean." Wow, what a hypocrite he felt like with that coming out of his mouth, slipping his hands into his pockets. He didn't think he'd find himself conversing with the enemy so casually, but here he was. To hell with it, he was off regular hours, and too tired to stir up anything he wasn't willing to finish.
"Odd that you are seeking company out with me of all men here. Is your spy not your cup of tea?" A small smirk spread on his face. Of course, he couldn't pass up the opportunity to make a jab at his scarlet-cloaked counterpart.
Aldrich shrugged his broad shoulders, appearing unbothered as he clicked his lighter with his thumb and lit his cig. He puffed on it a bit, before politely blowing the smoke to the side, even if he did tower over Laurent.
Dark brows furrowed as the heavy set Medic considered his response, staring down at the BLU Spy with a stoic expression, that did shift into a slightly more understanding and agreeable one as he gave a slow nod.
"Agreed."
Smoke and cold breath floated away on the air as the ARC Medic scratched at his beard with one hand, the light of his cig wavering across his face. His head tilted at the inquiry, yellow-gold eyes not giving any insight to what the RED was thinking.
"Sometimes you get tired of tea."
The tall stature and broad appearance was definitely something to be appreciated, but he didn't let this show on his face. One of the vital skills of being a Spy was to not tell or show. You only allowed people to see what you wanted them to see. The world was your stage and you had to perform or suffer the consequences. Yes, it was a lonely life and yes, he did suffer from imposter syndrome and all sorts of other personality issues, but that was neither here nor there.
"And so there are more flavors out there more palatable. I can understand that. I too grow tired of the humdrum." He mumbled, glancing off to the side. His own amber gaze was guarded, thinking. As odd as it was, he felt comfortable in the silence that settled between them, between their thoughts. It wasn't stuffy or constrained like other silences.
"I prefer wine myself." Another grin found its way to his face. Yes, he was popping a joke and a compliment all in one. Why not? It was also a fact too. Wine felt more satisfying, even though too much of it could result in organ failure. "Something rich, riveting, thought-provoking."
The tall, burly Medic hummed thoughtfully, a throaty rasp that came from deep in his chest. More smoke came from the corner of his mouth as he mulled over his response, perhaps a bit too long then was really socially acceptable, but the RED didn't particularly adhere to such constructs, although even amongst the BLUs, it was mentioned he was rather laid back, all things considered.
Aldrich was one of the few REDs that refused to participate in hunting down the members of the losing team after the rounds ended; either pretending he overlooked them as he made his way back to base or even helping them stumble back home.
"I prefer dark lagers myself." He doubted the Spy would like them, it didn't seem to fit his personality, but that was Spies for you. They were very rarely not people who appreciated finer things in life. Such things were too rich for Aldrich's blood, even if RED did pay him more money then he knew what to do with, and he often signed most of it off to charities and helping others when he could.
"Red Zinfandel, Pinot Noir, or Merlot?"
In a place such as this, social norms didn't quite strike him as common. It had been a hard pill to swallow when he had first been assigned to BLU, but it had been a pill he needed to swallow nonetheless. Not everyone here had the same upbringing as he'd had, so how could he just shove his mannerisms onto someone who really didn't know any better? it was quite the humbling experience, to say the least.
Honestly, he didn't find himself coming face-to-face with medics very often in the final moments of round bloodshed. It seemed kind of stereotypical to him; medics not wishing to cause unnecessary harm. However, in the line of assassin work, he expected them to be a tad more unhinged in the process. Guess there was always something new to learn, wasn't there?
"I have tried some of them. They are not awful on the palate. There is a time and a place for them, that is for sure." Laurent agreed with a small nod, adjusting his suit cuffs. "I prefer a Pinot Noir or a Merlot myself. The taste goes down smoother." He hummed, finding himself stuffing his hands into his suitcoat.
The towering German hummed thoughtfully in response, the noise resembling a throaty, raspy growl, but there was no hostility or negative emotion indicated - by tone, expression, or body language; the man was was quite stoic and blank if anything.
He preferred beer himself, although Aldrich never really turned down alcohol really. Although wine was a taste he had grown to acquire with age; and he was nearing his mid-forties by now.
"Fair enough. I prefer Merlot too. Had a friend from Paris recommend it."
Reading body language was pretty much a second language for the Spy, receiving all the hints that this man was simply humming in thought. What a shame that they weren't teammates. He'd find great pleasure in having long conversations with this individual. At least he seemed to have a discernable amount of brain power in him that others often greatly lacked.
Beers were... hardly ever his drink of choice. He's eaten tires that tasted better than the stuff. It was honestly astounding to him how anyone could enjoy that yellowed liquid. Somehow, people found a way. To the spy, it was simply a means of getting easily drunk without having to worry about decorum.
"Ah, a fellow Parisian. They always have the most exquisite of taste. You are wise to take recommendations from them." He chuckled.
"She is much smarter then I am." The Medic replied, tone slipping into something that could be called affectionate, fond. "Something tells me that you are not the biggest fan of beer; which while understandable, indicates you have not been offered the best." Being both German and Austrian, Aldrich was obligated to admit that beer flowed more through his veins then blood. "I usually share some things my mother sends from home. I could save one for you?"
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"Do you have the flu shot? I need one." Rasturn has decided this medic was safe enough, for a flu shot.
Aldrich had been taking inventory, a clipboard held in one hand, a pen in the other when Rasturn entered. He looked over at the sound of the door opening, staring his unblinking stare before he grunted and nodded. "Yes. Take a seat, bitte." He indicated to one of the cots in the ward, before setting down his clipboard on the counter and going to gather his supplies. "Is there anything else I may be of service for?"
Greetings, Docteur.
Oooh, Aldrich. What a fine name.
The large RED Medic shifted his weight from one booted foot to the other in a slow, pondering manner. Being a man that could go toe to toe with a Heavy, he often was careful how he walked and moved, ever mindful of his strength.
"Spy." He rumbled in simple acknowledgement, golden-yellow eyes staring unblinking at the other. His brows briefly furrowed at his name, head giving a subtle tilt, a thoughtful rumble building in his chest. It didn't surprise him that the Spy knew his name; they tended to be rather inquisitive individuals.
"I don't suppose you will give me your name?" He asked, monotone voice dipping briefly into something akin to playful sarcasm.
Tom Ellis, Lucifer
Open RP
The air after battles in Dustbowl is reminiscent of hell, thick with smoke from explosions and bullets and fire. A visible haze of heat simmers in the air, lazily hanging over scorching sand and dust-choked buildings which spectate the almost daily battles between RED and BLU.
As evening draws near, the heat is just beginning to abate, chased away by long shadows as the sun sets blazing orange on the horizon. Aldrich stalked the battlefield, sand and gravel crunching protest beneath his heavy boots and eyes scanning the ground. He is not looking for wounded teammates or the opposing team; he had no interest in participating in humiliation rounds for the rival mercenaries, hunting down unarmed people for some sort of petty retribution for earlier slights.
It is not lost on the burly Medic that they play a deadly game of capture the flag or king of the hill. This may be a private war between two feuding companies, but if the basis is going to be so infantile, then the ARC Medic has no interest in acting the part of a child.
Instead, he is hunting for a lost item; his fatherâs silver pocketwatch. He had definitely had it earlier, when BLU was making their last offensive push and now. An aggravated growl as he glares at the still heated sand around him. It has to be around here somewhereâŚ
Open RP with Dragons!
A slow thunderous noise rumbled through Aldrichâs chest as he craned his neck, bringing his huge head down to peer closely. The noise was almost a purr, despite sounding almost like the idling of a large car engine.Â
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People should reblog this if they are okay with receiving ask memes from people theyâve never rped with before. Mutual or not.
@the-hunter-of-teufort-rpâ
âIt never is. Especially when it comes to little ones of a species nobody really knows anything about. I imagine its quite hard, having to learn everything from scratch like that.â Johanna said. âIts hard enough learning the ins and outs of human little ones. But at least with them you already know their base needs.â
âMaybe I am.â She teased back, poking her tongue out at him. âAfter all, what lady wouldnât want to be able to sleep with her head tucked up against her mans chest, wrapped up all safe and warm. And you, my dear, always run so warm.â She chuckled. âThat sounds like a pretty nice time to me.â
âDanke, SĂźss.â Aldrich replied, voice a deep, affectionate rumble - which the dragonets echoed with their own higher pitched purring. âYou.. you could, if you wanted to.â The ARC offered, face burning with the heat of his blush. He tugged nervously on the collar of his shirt.
âI certainly would like to.â Johanna replied, giving the medic a soft smile over the brim of her wineglass. âI would like that very much. I always adore being near you. Iâm sure Iâd sleep very well with you bedside me.â
âWell, when one of us isnât tending to the little ones, that is.â She chuckled, giving a fond look at the little dragons.
Aldrich flushed a deeper shade of red, taking a sip of his own drink and allowing a faint, almost phantom smile to cross his usually stern and serious features.
"They will grow up eventually. And I know I will miss this time soon enough."
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"Conversations are a lot like teeth, you can only have so many."
Laurent sighed, but nodded in agreement. He understood the sentiment, glancing out at the icy landscape. "Oui. But like teeth, I have learned that they can also be repaired, added, and lost." The spy mumbled, idly messing with the knife in his sleeve. "It is unfortunate as it is necessary in our line of work, but I am sure I am preaching to the choir here, so to speak." The man chuckled, shivering a bit at a rather chill gust of wind. This had to be one of the COLDEST contracts he had ever been on, dressed in a much more durable suit for the occasion.
The burly ARC Medic grunted in agreement, not seeming to mind the chilly air or the snow slowly falling from the almost ever present blanket of gray clouds overhead.
"I was more thinking that too many conversations would be a headache."
The tall German said, giving a slight, wry smile as he fished in the pockets of his overcoat for his cigarettes. After finding the pack he offered one to the Spy before returning to searching for his lighter.
"I am... admittedly not a people person."
Laurent politely declined, offering a polite smile. "Non. I have not smoked, and I do not intend on starting such a habit." Now, he didn't look down on anyone who did. No, why would he? Men had their reasons and needs for stress relief in one form or another. It was not on him to be God's dictator.
"I can be if I need to be, but I do not find myself seeking out company either. People are... finnicky, to say the least. They never say what they mean." Wow, what a hypocrite he felt like with that coming out of his mouth, slipping his hands into his pockets. He didn't think he'd find himself conversing with the enemy so casually, but here he was. To hell with it, he was off regular hours, and too tired to stir up anything he wasn't willing to finish.
"Odd that you are seeking company out with me of all men here. Is your spy not your cup of tea?" A small smirk spread on his face. Of course, he couldn't pass up the opportunity to make a jab at his scarlet-cloaked counterpart.
Aldrich shrugged his broad shoulders, appearing unbothered as he clicked his lighter with his thumb and lit his cig. He puffed on it a bit, before politely blowing the smoke to the side, even if he did tower over Laurent.
Dark brows furrowed as the heavy set Medic considered his response, staring down at the BLU Spy with a stoic expression, that did shift into a slightly more understanding and agreeable one as he gave a slow nod.
"Agreed."
Smoke and cold breath floated away on the air as the ARC Medic scratched at his beard with one hand, the light of his cig wavering across his face. His head tilted at the inquiry, yellow-gold eyes not giving any insight to what the RED was thinking.
"Sometimes you get tired of tea."
The tall stature and broad appearance was definitely something to be appreciated, but he didn't let this show on his face. One of the vital skills of being a Spy was to not tell or show. You only allowed people to see what you wanted them to see. The world was your stage and you had to perform or suffer the consequences. Yes, it was a lonely life and yes, he did suffer from imposter syndrome and all sorts of other personality issues, but that was neither here nor there.
"And so there are more flavors out there more palatable. I can understand that. I too grow tired of the humdrum." He mumbled, glancing off to the side. His own amber gaze was guarded, thinking. As odd as it was, he felt comfortable in the silence that settled between them, between their thoughts. It wasn't stuffy or constrained like other silences.
"I prefer wine myself." Another grin found its way to his face. Yes, he was popping a joke and a compliment all in one. Why not? It was also a fact too. Wine felt more satisfying, even though too much of it could result in organ failure. "Something rich, riveting, thought-provoking."
The tall, burly Medic hummed thoughtfully, a throaty rasp that came from deep in his chest. More smoke came from the corner of his mouth as he mulled over his response, perhaps a bit too long then was really socially acceptable, but the RED didn't particularly adhere to such constructs, although even amongst the BLUs, it was mentioned he was rather laid back, all things considered.
Aldrich was one of the few REDs that refused to participate in hunting down the members of the losing team after the rounds ended; either pretending he overlooked them as he made his way back to base or even helping them stumble back home.
"I prefer dark lagers myself." He doubted the Spy would like them, it didn't seem to fit his personality, but that was Spies for you. They were very rarely not people who appreciated finer things in life. Such things were too rich for Aldrich's blood, even if RED did pay him more money then he knew what to do with, and he often signed most of it off to charities and helping others when he could.
"Red Zinfandel, Pinot Noir, or Merlot?"
In a place such as this, social norms didn't quite strike him as common. It had been a hard pill to swallow when he had first been assigned to BLU, but it had been a pill he needed to swallow nonetheless. Not everyone here had the same upbringing as he'd had, so how could he just shove his mannerisms onto someone who really didn't know any better? it was quite the humbling experience, to say the least.
Honestly, he didn't find himself coming face-to-face with medics very often in the final moments of round bloodshed. It seemed kind of stereotypical to him; medics not wishing to cause unnecessary harm. However, in the line of assassin work, he expected them to be a tad more unhinged in the process. Guess there was always something new to learn, wasn't there?
"I have tried some of them. They are not awful on the palate. There is a time and a place for them, that is for sure." Laurent agreed with a small nod, adjusting his suit cuffs. "I prefer a Pinot Noir or a Merlot myself. The taste goes down smoother." He hummed, finding himself stuffing his hands into his suitcoat.
The towering German hummed thoughtfully in response, the noise resembling a throaty, raspy growl, but there was no hostility or negative emotion indicated - by tone, expression, or body language; the man was was quite stoic and blank if anything.
He preferred beer himself, although Aldrich never really turned down alcohol really. Although wine was a taste he had grown to acquire with age; and he was nearing his mid-forties by now.
"Fair enough. I prefer Merlot too. Had a friend from Paris recommend it."
