follows back from @stolenrocket218 – tf2-centric sideblog at @postsfromtheteufortunderground | TF2 RP Blogs Masterpost
DISCLAIMER: Jed is VERY prone to suicidal ideation and self-degradation. He's been treated like a punching bag for about as long as he can remember, and he talks about himself like it. This, as well as his predisposition to flashbacks, will likely not come up in normal scenarios, but it CAN if the situation calls for it. If any of that can upset you, it will all be tagged and warned accordingly. Just letting you all know that it IS a possibility.
Hello! Welcome to the blog! My name is Ash (he/him)!
This is an RP blog for my TF2 BLU Engineer OC, Jed! We're non-selective here, so anybody feel free to interact! I self RP sometimes if it's funny, don't worry about it.
GROUND RULES: No explicit smut and don't be offensive. Suggestive content is fine (just use your head), and anything that's NOT smut (like explicit gore and whatnot) is alright as long as you put a content warning on there. Shipping is also okay if we've interacted before!
INFORMATION: Jedediah (or, as most call him, Jed) is essentially an OC of mine I made a while back that I have recently adapted into fitting into my version of the canon (which you've seen in my other RP blogs). He's what you get when you take a BLU Engineer and give him what is probably PTSD and just generally make him so frightened of being jumped out of nowhere that he's eternally super anxious/scared around anybody that's not on his team. That said, being a clone, he does possess some Dell-adjacent quirks – just be careful if you point it out. He doesn't like Dell, he doesn't like that he's a clone of Dell, and he doesn't like being compared to Dell.
He has the same "shit happened and now he just kinda floats around the multiverse" thing going on that most of my other blogs have, so don't be surprised if he doesn't recognize you or an event you mention. He's got a whole host of his own canon to worry about.
That's not to say you can't point it out. In fact, I encourage you to point it out if you want to upset him! Really, say whatever you want to him. Be nice to him, send him flowers. Abuse him, treat him like a punching bag. Go nuts.
This is a link to his information post up on my TF2 sideblog. Feel free to read through that to learn more about him. If you want more detailed info, feel free to either try to learn it here, or just ask about him on that sideblog! I love talking about my OCs a lot, so I'm happy to answer any questions you might have.
Please send me asks. It'd be pretty cool if ya did.
TAG LIST:
hello? (asks)
is this okay? (reblog interactions)
nothing to see here (non-ask posts) – NOTE: Anything under this tag is an open RP starter. Go nuts.
beyond the blu (out of character)
Enjoy! Be kind to my boy! Or don't. Either's okay.
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[Hello, I have been thinking this for a long time and it will make sense to come to you for it. Do you think it’s possible to combine two items of what you have to make them more powerful while completely functional? For example these items]
[Example: For the Ubersaw and Vita-Saw swap out the needle of the Ubersaw and put the longer one from the Vita-Saw into place, Remove the wooden cylinder and blade piece Vita-Saw handle, Remove the cylinder flask from the Ubersaw handle and place it onto the Vita-Saw handle, If needed adjust the handle for the Vita-Saw so the cylinder flask from the Ubersaw fits perfectly into place. As for the Kritzkrieg and Quick-Fix take the medigun piece from the Kritzkrieg and remove it from its current medipack, Do the same with the Quick-Fix. Once done place the medigun piece from the Kritzkrieg and attach it to the medipack of the Quick-Fix]
— “This is a really interesting idea — it's been on my mind for a while, but I didn't think anyone would share their thoughts with me on it. I'm glad you came to me with this question, since I already had similar ideas. Let's weigh all the pros and cons and come to a conclusion”
Pros (What you would get):
1. Increased range and effectiveness of the melee hit.
· Replacing the Ubersaw's short needle with the Vita-Saw's longer one gives you a more "long-ranged" weapon. Theoretically, this allows you to land hits from a safer distance, staying out of reach of enemy melee weapons (like the Scout's bat).
2. Comfort and versatility.
· Replacing the bulky Vita-Saw handle with the Ubersaw's vial makes the weapon more comfortable and less conspicuous. It's easier to carry and won't snag on clothing or gear. This is an "aesthetic" plus that could improve practicality in the field.
3. Speed + Crits.
· You get very fast healing (from the Quick-Fix) while giving your patient 100% crits (from the Kritzkrieg). This makes your patient extremely dangerous, especially in close-quarters combat.
4. Mobility.
· Thanks to the Quick-Fix, you can quickly keep up with your patient without falling behind. This is especially useful for aggressive classes like Soldier or Demoman who use rocket and sticky jumps.
5. Synergy.
· The combination of crits and high healing speed makes your patient nearly invincible in short firefights. They deal massive damage and recover health instantly.
---
Now onto the cons —
1. Loss of functionality and durability.
· A weapon isn't just a set of parts — it's a unified construct where each component has a specific function and withstands certain stresses. Swapping parts (e.g., putting a vial on a different handle) can throw off the balance or make it fragile. The Vita-Saw's long needle mounted on an Ubersaw handle could simply snap under a heavy blow.
2. Anatomical and logical mismatch.
· The Vita-Saw is essentially an amputation tool, while the Ubersaw is a bone saw. They have different purposes and balances. Swapping parts between them could make the weapon awkward and ineffective. The long, curved Vita-Saw needle might be inefficient for the straight chopping strikes characteristic of the Ubersaw.
3. Loss of warranty and safety.
· If viewed as a real tool, any DIY modifications could make it dangerous — both for the enemy (due to instability) and for the user (risk of breakage or mishandling). This is basically "garage tuning" of a medical instrument, with unpredictable consequences.
4. Technical issues.
· System incompatibility: The Kritzkrieg and Quick-Fix work on different principles. The Quick-Fix uses a "tether" technology with the patient, while the Kritzkrieg generates crits. Their backpacks may be incompatible in terms of power consumption or delivery protocols.
5. Overheating.
· The Kritzkrieg has a more powerful emitter that could overheat the Quick-Fix backpack, which is designed for a different operating mode.
---
Final verdict:
In the end, we get a powerful but not quite durable hybrid saw — and a powerful but extremely situational tool. The Kritzkrieg/Quick-Fix combo is ideal for aggressive play in short skirmishes, but a complete failure in prolonged fights or against a well-coordinated team.
I would rather try to mix the Medi Gun + Kritzkrieg. Let me show you in a table to make it clearer:
[But the Medic's enthusiasm suddenly vanished, as if he had remembered something unpleasant]
— “But personally, I think we also need the opinion of someone who actually specializes in weapons and mechanisms. Maybe I'll ask the Engineer—... from my team, what he thinks about it. I saw him in the garage recently, I hope he's not too busy right now. Come with me”
[Friedrich led you along, passing by grey-blue walls with peeling paint in some places, a sign that there hadn't been any repairs here in a long time. He stopped near a bulky door that bore the emblem of a wrench. The Medic knocked]
— "Mr. Jedediah, you in there?" ( @icecoldinventing )
// SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLY, I just don't main Medic. I hardly knew anything about his equipment. When I do pick him, I usually just stick with the stock loadout. I hope I understood all the abilities of his weapons/Mediguns correctly. I read quite a few articles to understand their stats, and I also tested his weapons in practice. Honestly, the Vaccinator was the most painful to deal with. I hope I didn't mess up the in-game mechanics and write anything unnecessary. Sorry again for the late reply
The sound of a power drill whirring away, punching a hole through something metal, sounds through the door, squealing as it struggles to bite through the material. The whirring and the squealing stops as soon as the Medic's hand knocks against the door, the sound of a tool being set gently down on a tabletop following.
There's the scrap of a stool against the hard workshop floor, then the sound of things getting kicked out of the way to make a path. Then, after a few seconds, quick footsteps – ones alternating between boot and metal – approach, and the door swings open, the Engineer hiding within offering a curious look.
Hopefully he's got something entertaining, he thinks. Damned sheet metal won't drill out how I want.
"Sure am, doc, sorry 'bout that wait," he says, leaning against the doorway. When isn't he here? "What can I do ya for?"
[Medic didn't wait for an invitation, so he immediately stepped into the workshop. He turned on his low heels and surveyed the room, which was cluttered with various tools and strange devices of unknown purpose. Most likely new, rough prototypes that Jed hadn't had time to finish. Friedrich liked the smell of machine oil and mustiness, so he didn't miss the chance to come in here. Turning to the Engineer, he finally spoke, looking off into the distance with a faint, strained half-smile]
— “It doesn't matter to me what some civilian suggested about crossing my weapons — I'd like to hear your opinion on the matter”
[He handed him the letter with recommendations for modifying his melee weapon and healing device]
— “By the way, you could stand to tidy up around here”
Jed made an odd little sound – a weird squeak, almost – as the Medic stepped past him and into his shop. He trailed behind, watching him survey the (admittedly quite messy) room, the heat of embarassment crawling up his cheeks.
"I-I, uh– I wasn't expectin' company," he admits sheepishly, reaching out and taking the letter. "Well, lessee here.."
He scans over it, having to reread a few bits to catch all of it, humming quietly in deliberation.
"Well, I agree wit' ya on one front – just combinin' parts of somethin' you're pokin' into someone ain't gonna make somethin' what lasts very long at all. You'd have to upgrade darn near everything, I reckon – metal for the needle, glass for the vial, allat that stuff. All-in-all, you'd just be better savin' your existin' tools an' buildin' somethin' from scratch. An' at that point, you may as well work wit' any improvement ideas you got bangin' around, y'know? Probably make it for an entirely different purpose than what the Übersaw or the Vita-Saw are for – you don't fix what ain't broke."
He scans over the potential medigun combinations, pausing to think about the metrics and ramifications.
"I see where this fella's comin' from, suggestin' a swap-around combinin' the Quick Fix an' the Kritz. The Quick Kritz, if you will." He chuckles to himself. God, he was hilarious. "A-Anyway, but it's as you say, they's completely different machines running on two completely different hardwares 'n' modes. You could overclock the central processor of the Quick Fix to handle the Kritzkrieg's output, but at that rate y'all'd probably just fry the whole damn thing. An' on the other hand, you could try the inverse, fittin' Quick Fix parts ont' the Kritz an' try and achieve the same effect that way, but because of how the Quick Fix is inherently more lightweight than the Kritz, y'all'd just end up underclocking it and making everything worse. Either way, you're just puttin' cow crap on a good sandwich."
He chuckles again awkwardly.
"Very suboptimal. I'd go the Medi Gun an' Kritzkrieg approach, myself. Numbers are closer together, an' they're both meant for heavier-weight performance. Vaccinator and Quick Fix also go damn well together – they's just about sixes on their charge rate. Only about, uhh, a second's difference? That said, means their power load's gonna be about the same. Medi Gun an' Vaccinator's a bit sketchier, just 'cause you might have to overclock the Vaccinator's processor to keep up with the power that the stock gun has to put out in order to, y'know, make a fella practically invincible. Though, long as you worked somethin' in to prevent overheating, it'd probably work well."
He clears his throat, looking up from the page and up at Medic.
"I, uh, hope them's the answers you was lookin' for. Combinin' stuff can either be real good or real bad dependin' on what your goal is."
[Friedrich listened to his interlocutor with genuine interest, silent, not interrupting him. But it was a little unsettling that throughout all this time, he hadn't blinked once, nor taken his eyes off Jed. Finally, when the Engineer had finished speaking on the matter, BLU Medic smiled broadly, clearly showing that the answer to his question had satisfied him. And more than that, he had received an obvious but sound piece of advice]
— "Honestly, I'm actually quite satisfied with my melee arsenal as it is. The daily mercenary routine gets exhausting pretty quickly, no matter how much one enjoys violence and scattered enemy remains across the field. So really, modifying what already exists is rather boring. Variety keeps things from getting dull, and if everything worked too perfectly... what would be the point? But I do think it would be nice to expand my ranged weaponry. The syringe gun and crossbow aren't particularly effective when you need to fend off someone chasing you. Perhaps if I had something more like a firearm, my work on the battlefield would be more efficient... And that's where I'm heading with this"
[He stepped right up to the Engineer, trying to smile as friendly as possible, but as always, it came out looking like the kind of grin you usually see at a funeral for an enemy — not the kind you use when asking a teammate for a favor]
— "You wouldn't happen to have any spare guns lying around, would you?"
[Friedrich was well aware that the Administrator had strictly FORBIDDEN both Medics from having more powerful weapons, because a doctor's health has a tendency to regenerate, and that would be unfair to the other mercenaries, which could lead to internal conflicts within the teams. After all, the German would have regenerating health, the ability to build charge for invulnerability, a strong melee weapon, and a decent ranged weapon on top of that. This would shatter the fragile balance and the only agreement between the two teams — to fight on equal terms. Friedrich seemed almost deliberately intent on sowing chaos in this already fragile system, and on top of that, he was trying to drag Jed into the mess.]
Jed stammers, not due to how damned ominous the Medic was, oh no, he was more than used to that, but instead due to what was being asked of him.
It wasn't that he disliked the idea of handing over one of his spare firearms to Friedrich – although, he'd certainly have a hard time choosing a gun to give away – or even that he felt particularly conflicted about it. Rather, he was worried what would happen to him if the Administrator – or anybody on RED, for that matter – discovered that he was the one that had handed a gun over to the good doctor, all the possibilities for disaster and horror that could befall him swimming through his head.
"W-Well, uh..."
He hesitated, uncertain of how exactly to proceed with the matter. Did he just say no? Did he let it happen? Did he just...'accidentally' leave something out.
"That's a bit...L-Look, it ain't that I don't want to, fact o' the matter is I'd love to see what you could do with a gun. But– But I also gotta think about what'd happen if folks found out I was the one what helped you break the one 'n' only rule we got."
Really, he was just worried it'd give RED even more of a reason to use him as their personal punching bag. A lump caught in his throat just thinking about it.
"L-Let alone, y'know, the other issues it'd cause. If'n we play nasty, next thing ya know, we're gon' have them REDs up in here causin' us trouble even when we ain't fightin'."
And, historically, attempting to play dirty hasn't gone well for poor ol' Jedediah.
— "Oh, Jed. You're scared, as always, aren't you? Alright, fine, let's assume it's just caution and a noble desire to protect your team, rather than saving your own trembling ass from the consequences. I'm not judging you, of course — people are generally strange and stupid creatures, doing unnecessary things... or refusing to do things at unnecessary moments. Your fear and worries amuse me a little, honestly, it's even kind of cute in a way, if you forget that you're a grown mercenary. You don't like change. Especially after that incident. I've always wondered, how did you even manage to get caught? After Dell gave you a beating, I tried sneaking onto the base. Just out of curiosity. Now I'm a regular guest there — unofficial, of course. Only Herbert and the RED Spy know about it. I almost feel sorry for Herbert — as soon as I changed my clothes, they already took me for one of their own. That's how little they know their own healer. It's sad and disrespectful, I don't think the RED Medic would want to hear about that"
[Friedrich let out a light chuckle and gave a stiff shrug, trying to appear casual, but it came off as far too unnatural. No matter how hard he tried, he just didn't have the charisma]
— "I'll be honest with you. I don't want to deceive you. I know how your lock opens, I know perfectly well where you keep everything. You're very predictable, even in your mess. Maybe that's what caused your failure that day..."
[He circled around the Engineer, never taking his eyes off him, as if sizing up an object. His gaze drifted over Jed's hand, the one wearing the glove]
— "Don't you want to try something new? Something Dell never did. You don't like being compared to him, yet you keep following his lead... Why? You could come up with something better, I know you could. Or do you not want to? Don't want trouble? Like right now?"
[Friedrich came up behind the Engineer, breathing down the back of his neck. The BLU Medic had always had trouble understanding personal space. And with his eyesight too]
— "Don't you think our fight over these old men's land has gotten way too banal and trivial? If you tell me you're satisfied with everything, I won't believe you. When everyone went to bed, you were sitting out in the cold. You've got no appetite, low spirits, no motivation, you're nervous way too often. It's because you're stuck in this loop. We need chaos — if we play by their rules, we'll end up getting disposed of like expendable materials. Either they get us, or we get them"
[He reached out and straightened the Engineer's collar, his voice dropping lower as he spoke —]
— "You could use a psychologist. Or a proper home environment. When was the last time you let yourself rest? Not in terms of work — mentally. You're always on guard, you even twitch from nightmares at night. Do you do anything besides these metal things?"
He bares his teeth in a discomforted sneer, tilting his head down to stare off somewhere at the floor, shaking his head slightly. He hated it when people did that. Read him like a damn book. It made him feel exposed, and if there was one thing he hated, it was feeling exposed.
He flinches when he feels Friedrich come up behind him, cringes just slightly when he feels the Medic's breath on his neck. He tries to hide it, but he's never been particularly good at lying when it came to his body language. His teeth grind together as the doctor brings up that foul night at the RED base – weren't bad enough poking holes in his mind, had to go and prod open sores, too.
"Weren't my fault," he mumbles. It's not his usual, resigned mumble, like he's ashamed, but rather something more heated. Irritated, maybe even just flat out pissed off. "How was I s'posed to know he was gonna choose that one time to wander out 'n' about?"
He doesn't acknowledge the remark about how he never relaxed. He doesn't acknowledge the way the Medic looks at him, the way his eyes skirt over the glove-concealed robotic limb attached to his right wrist. He wasn't a follower, he was just using what knowledge he had when he'd first finished cooking. His stolen knowledge happened to be good at pumping people full of lead, good at cracking open skulls. Why fix what wasn't broke?
"Why bother askin', then?" he abruptly asks. He doesn't want to talk about himself like that. "If ya want one o' my guns, why not just...take one? Why ain't you done it already? Is it just 'cause you know I'd notice?"
It's not an accusatory question. Really, it's not even one asked in bad faith. He seems genuinely curious as the words leave his mouth. It'd be easy enough just to take one, he thinks. He's not sure about the rest of the team, but he knows he'd be too scared to even do anything about it. Coward.
"An' what happens when the important people notice? Totin' a gun around's awful obvious. Why not just–" An idea crosses his mind.
He hesitates. It's clear that he's thought of something, but just like most other things that are different, different from the status quo, he's hesitant to say it out loud.
[Friedrich tilted his head, studying the Engineer with the same interest he would give a tissue sample under a microscope. He noticed how the other man faltered, how the words got stuck in his throat. The German waited patiently, but his patience was not born of kindness. It was more like waiting for the right moment to strike]
— "Why not... uh..." [he repeated, not mockingly, but rather chewing on the word as if tasting it]
— "You didn't finish, Jed. And that is the most interesting part. The moment when a thought has already formed but hasn't yet taken shape in words. Those are the moments when the brain produces the most... unexpected solutions. Are you afraid your idea will seem stupid to me? Or are you afraid it might turn out to be right?"
[His voice became softer, almost thoughtful. He clearly liked the fact that the Engineer had actually come up with something. All it had taken was a little pressure. Now all that remained was to give the poor man a tiny push]
— "Why haven't I stolen your weapon? You're offending me. I am a doctor, after all, not some trembling thief. And I knew you would think of something, just like now... Come on, Jed. We're not on the battlefield. It's just you, me, and your brilliant or stupid idea. I'm ready to hear anything. Even if it's a plan to blow the base to hell with my crossbow and your screwdriver."
He certainly feels like he's under a microscope as the idea kicks around in his head. He nods slightly, still feeling like that idea might somehow result in his doom – karma and all that – but at the same time...Medic had a point. There was nobody else around to hear it...
"Y-You could modify a weapon you already got," he finally mumbles. "I mean...I-I'm sure you got old prototypes layin' around. No reason one o' them old syringe guns couldn't be, uh...modified. Upgraded."
Feels wrong even suggesting it. He doesn't like it.
"Could...Could make it into a, uh...A hand-held turret, almost. Cobble somethin' together what shoots real bullets, make 'em hurt, an' then jus'...combine it. You'd have to, y'know, change some of the material used to make the gun itself so that it don't kill you in the process, wire up a few things an' make it easy to shoot an' reload, but..."
He pauses again, fidgeting awkwardly with his hands, running his flesh hand down along his gloved one, feeling all the mechanical parts concealed beneath as they shift and work.
"But, y'know. Nobody'd be able to tell the difference until they was already full o' lead. Arguably better'n totin' a shotgun around like they used to before our time, heh. More...stealthy, I suppose."
It was a rather peaceful day, the snow creating a fresh blanket on the earth and the serene scene being nice from the bloody ones of battle.
On one of the buildings holding high and strong out here was a missing poster. The paper slightly eroded due to time and snow but some text very clear and a picture.
The picture was of a young man with dark brown hair tied in a low ponytail, his skin fair and freckles dotting his cheeks that had a smile on them. A scar was on his left eyebrow and he was holding something but the ink was smeared.
MISSING
The top said though was slightly damaged, the bottom gave a brief description with some missing details.
"Benjamin Madden last seen on ---- entering his warehouse on ---- ---- ------- broken ----- if found please call 911 or (505) --- ---- -----
Answers to his full name or Ben. Has dark brown hair, light blue eyes, fair skin. Freckles on cheeks and shoulders with a scar on his left eyebrow."
He hesitates. That was sure to cause some discord in that head of his. But, at the same time...
"I...I never told nobody about it before. N-Not even my Soldier knows the...the whole thing, he only knows about as much as you do. An' that's just the stuff about Texas RED."
Because talking about the whole thing, talking about everything else, that requires remembering it. And he doesn't like remembering it. It still feels too recent. Like a sore that's still open and festering.
"I, uh...I reckon...I c-could change that," he mutters. "Might...Might help, honestly. 'Stead of keepin' it in."
features excerpts from my fic, Frontier Justice, on Ao3 | cw // violence
"...Okay. Okay."
Fuck, this was gonna suck.
"Uh, w-well, there's the first one, th-the one with Texas RED. Dell. I...I kn-know why he did what he did, but...I don't get why he went so far." He took a deep breath. "S-See, I'd built this thing for my team. This...This li'l recordin' device, we was gonna use it to, um, listen in on their plans. Get us an advantage, 'cause we'd been gettin' steamrolled in every battle up to that point. I figured, if we couldn't win by playin' nice, then we'd play dirty instead."
He remembered how excited he'd been when he first came up with it. How excited he'd been when he finished it. He'd gone up to his Soldier with it in his hands, said to him, "Roy, Roy, have a gander at this!" The old jarhead had clapped him on the shoulder and told him, "Son, if you swing this war in our favor, this whole damn base'll owe you their lives."
It was the first time Sarge had ever been truly kind to him.
"I wanted to sneak it in, hide it somewheres they'd be likely to talk about their strategies 'n' their tactics. My Spy – we call him the Phantom, y'know, like the Phantom of the Opera? it was his idea, I don't know – he offered to be the one to sneak it in. I should've let him, I-I know I should've let him, but I figured, hey, everyone'd be asleep an' it'd be easy for me to slip past their sentries and put it in a good spot. I told him I'd be in there five minutes, tops. I-It went well, at first. Snuck in through a gap in the sentries' detection ranges, started headed towards one of their main buildings. A-And...And then..."
His train of thought is cut short by a searing pain in the back of his head, radiating through his skull and throbbing like he'd been hit by a truck. His vision blurs as he looks through his goggles for what had done it. He stumbles, and as his sight fades, it seems like he's looking into a mirror.
"You sit on down now, son," he hears his own voice say. But it's not his voice. "I'm gonna show you what happens to people what sneak into our base. What happens to trespassers."
With a heavy thud, the BLU collapses to the ground, vision and faculties failing him.
He swallows down a wad of spit. He could still feel the way his head throbbed if he thought about it too hard.
"He smacked me in t'head. Knocked me out cold, or...or at least I think he did. When I woke up, he was just standin' there, starin' at me. I still don't know what happened to the thing I built. All I know is, he was lookin' at me like I was the Devil in disguise. I...I think he thought I was tryin' to hurt his team. Wh-Which, I guess in a way I was, but...I think he thought I was plantin' a...a bomb, or somethin'."
The RED team's Engineer stands over him, staring at him with a blank look on his face, his wrench, the Southern Hospitality, clutched in his hand. The back side of the wrench's head is marked with his blood, and as he puts the pieces together as to what happened, he finally manages to squeak out a sentence.
"Why ain't I dead?" he asks, his voice shaking despite his attempts to conceal it.
That earns the slightest of smiles from the RED Engineer, and he bends down slightly. "Killin' you wouldn't make a point."
"He...He had that wrench of his. The one wit' the blade, an' the the guard wit' the spikes on it. Think he calls it the Southern Hospitality. I have one, too, it, uh...It makes ya bleed real bad. Tears you up."
He hesitates to continue. He sits on those words, glancing up at Ben like he's looking for approval to continue. ...Or maybe encouragement.
"Mm. Uh...I tried t'get away. Tried real hard, b-but– But he had his gun, too, an' when I tried to run, he shot me so...s-so I couldn't– A-And I sometimes...s-sometimes think I can still feel the way that wrench grabbed onto me, a-and–"
His vision swirls as he scrambles to his feet, and he turns tail and runs. But he's not fast enough, and with the crack of a gunshot, he's dropping back to the ground, his leg burning with the bullet that lodges itself in his bone. He feels the Hospitality's blade sink into the soft spot connecting his neck to his shoulder, and he screams, his hands flying up to grip onto the weapon.
"Whatcha screamin' for, son? You're lucky you just got me. My brother would have a damn hayday with you — I ain't half as mean as he is."
The BLU can feel the weapon shift and tug his flesh as the RED drags him back with it, and he gasps as he's pulled back onto his back before the weapon rips out of him, tearing him open further in the process.
"Gr-Grabbed me right here," he says, putting a hand on that chunk of flesh between his shoulder and neck. "Dragged me back along an'...and then..."
He didn't want to talk about that.
"Weren't even t'worst part," he mumbles. He lifts up a hand, running a finger along a thin scar left when the Hospitality's razor-sharp edge sliced open his chin. The Respawn machine hadn't gotten rid of it, just left him with that...permanent reminder. He didn't know why. "Worst was when I tried gettin' away again."
He squeezed his eyes shut. Worked his jaw, moved his tongue around in his mouth. Shifted his hand to grab ahold of his jaw and hold it. Have to make sure, have to make sure...
He barely makes it to his feet again before a hand grabs his shoulder and whirls him around, another hand smashing into his jaw. His jaw cracks, and he can feel it pop out of place, feel his teeth sink into his tongue and bite right through it, feel them fracture as they collide with each other. The punch throws him to the ground, throws his hardhat right off his head and across the way, and the scream he lets out comes with the gushing of blood and the bitten-off half of the appendage falling from his lips onto the rain-soaked dirt.
His breath catches in his throat in a hoarse almost-squeak. He didn't like this part. He didn't like it. His jaw was still in place. He still had his tongue. Fuck, he– He was going back there. He could feel it, he could feel the way his mind was starting to drag him back to that horrible night. Fuck, fuck, fuck, no, no, no–
Metal collides with his jaw. Metal smashes into bone, fracturing it, sending it cracking out of place. His teeth shatter with the impact.
"Mm, mm-mm, no, n-no–"
Crack. Bone. Break. Teeth, slicing through thick muscle. His tongue is gone, it's gone, it's gone–
"I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he mumbles, his breath going quick and ragged. He can't breathe. He can't see. "H-He wouldn't stop– He c-could've just left me with one, but he didn't, h-he didn't, he just kept going, a-and it made my brain hurt and my vision all fuzzy. I don't understand why he didn't just shoot me. I don't understand. I don't understand. Kept punching me, j-just...just kept..."
He goes quiet, trying to catch his breath. Trying to get out of that place. Get him out of there. Get him out, get him out, get him out.
The shorter looks deeply relieved and holds Jed's hands once more.
"You were in your head remembering what happened, Jed. I didn't really know how else to snap you out of it instead of saying something strange. Get ya mind to focus on something else ya know?"
He smiles though in his mind he is going to beat the everloving shit out of Red Engineer later, but right now his friend needs him and that's more important.
After a moment, he continues, "He...He finally realized he'd gone too far when I couldn't do nothin'. Finally just shot me an' sent me back to respawn."
He sniffles.
"I, uh...Fell asleep in our resupply. I...I's just so tired an' I couldn't see nothin', so I just...conked out right then an' there. When I woke up I was in m' bed. Sarge said he carried me to my room when he saw me come outta there lookin' confused."
"N-No, no, I think...I think I just need to take a bit to calm down. I'll be okay." He goes quiet for a moment. He seems to be thinking about something. "I wish me an' him got along better. I mean, he's not done nothin' to me since that night, an' I think the only reason it bothers me as much as it does is 'cause I had just barely finished cookin' when it happened. Jus' wish I could talk to 'im. I see Sarge talkin' to that Soldier of RED's, an' I know Sarge ain't a clone, but they look real, real similar, an'...I dunno. Makes me...envy 'em, I guess."
He nods even though he can't personally understand he is willing to listen and silently offers his full support and care.
"I don't blame ya for feeling that way, the trauma from the event won't be easy to get over but it may lessen as time goes on and with a support system of people who truly care about you."
He gives a warm smile though he doesn't fully know if that will work. Yes it's been time for him but he still can't get over it, he needs to be strong for others though right now.
"Y-Yeah, I guess so. I, uh...I hope you're right."
He smiles back, just slightly. He really, really hopes Ben is right. He feels like he's useless to his team, just because he can't get over something that happened ages ago.
"Hey, uh...Thanks for...listenin'. An' puttin' up with me. Means a lot."
It was a rather peaceful day, the snow creating a fresh blanket on the earth and the serene scene being nice from the bloody ones of battle.
On one of the buildings holding high and strong out here was a missing poster. The paper slightly eroded due to time and snow but some text very clear and a picture.
The picture was of a young man with dark brown hair tied in a low ponytail, his skin fair and freckles dotting his cheeks that had a smile on them. A scar was on his left eyebrow and he was holding something but the ink was smeared.
MISSING
The top said though was slightly damaged, the bottom gave a brief description with some missing details.
"Benjamin Madden last seen on ---- entering his warehouse on ---- ---- ------- broken ----- if found please call 911 or (505) --- ---- -----
Answers to his full name or Ben. Has dark brown hair, light blue eyes, fair skin. Freckles on cheeks and shoulders with a scar on his left eyebrow."
He hesitates. That was sure to cause some discord in that head of his. But, at the same time...
"I...I never told nobody about it before. N-Not even my Soldier knows the...the whole thing, he only knows about as much as you do. An' that's just the stuff about Texas RED."
Because talking about the whole thing, talking about everything else, that requires remembering it. And he doesn't like remembering it. It still feels too recent. Like a sore that's still open and festering.
"I, uh...I reckon...I c-could change that," he mutters. "Might...Might help, honestly. 'Stead of keepin' it in."
features excerpts from my fic, Frontier Justice, on Ao3 | cw // violence
"...Okay. Okay."
Fuck, this was gonna suck.
"Uh, w-well, there's the first one, th-the one with Texas RED. Dell. I...I kn-know why he did what he did, but...I don't get why he went so far." He took a deep breath. "S-See, I'd built this thing for my team. This...This li'l recordin' device, we was gonna use it to, um, listen in on their plans. Get us an advantage, 'cause we'd been gettin' steamrolled in every battle up to that point. I figured, if we couldn't win by playin' nice, then we'd play dirty instead."
He remembered how excited he'd been when he first came up with it. How excited he'd been when he finished it. He'd gone up to his Soldier with it in his hands, said to him, "Roy, Roy, have a gander at this!" The old jarhead had clapped him on the shoulder and told him, "Son, if you swing this war in our favor, this whole damn base'll owe you their lives."
It was the first time Sarge had ever been truly kind to him.
"I wanted to sneak it in, hide it somewheres they'd be likely to talk about their strategies 'n' their tactics. My Spy – we call him the Phantom, y'know, like the Phantom of the Opera? it was his idea, I don't know – he offered to be the one to sneak it in. I should've let him, I-I know I should've let him, but I figured, hey, everyone'd be asleep an' it'd be easy for me to slip past their sentries and put it in a good spot. I told him I'd be in there five minutes, tops. I-It went well, at first. Snuck in through a gap in the sentries' detection ranges, started headed towards one of their main buildings. A-And...And then..."
His train of thought is cut short by a searing pain in the back of his head, radiating through his skull and throbbing like he'd been hit by a truck. His vision blurs as he looks through his goggles for what had done it. He stumbles, and as his sight fades, it seems like he's looking into a mirror.
"You sit on down now, son," he hears his own voice say. But it's not his voice. "I'm gonna show you what happens to people what sneak into our base. What happens to trespassers."
With a heavy thud, the BLU collapses to the ground, vision and faculties failing him.
He swallows down a wad of spit. He could still feel the way his head throbbed if he thought about it too hard.
"He smacked me in t'head. Knocked me out cold, or...or at least I think he did. When I woke up, he was just standin' there, starin' at me. I still don't know what happened to the thing I built. All I know is, he was lookin' at me like I was the Devil in disguise. I...I think he thought I was tryin' to hurt his team. Wh-Which, I guess in a way I was, but...I think he thought I was plantin' a...a bomb, or somethin'."
The RED team's Engineer stands over him, staring at him with a blank look on his face, his wrench, the Southern Hospitality, clutched in his hand. The back side of the wrench's head is marked with his blood, and as he puts the pieces together as to what happened, he finally manages to squeak out a sentence.
"Why ain't I dead?" he asks, his voice shaking despite his attempts to conceal it.
That earns the slightest of smiles from the RED Engineer, and he bends down slightly. "Killin' you wouldn't make a point."
"He...He had that wrench of his. The one wit' the blade, an' the the guard wit' the spikes on it. Think he calls it the Southern Hospitality. I have one, too, it, uh...It makes ya bleed real bad. Tears you up."
He hesitates to continue. He sits on those words, glancing up at Ben like he's looking for approval to continue. ...Or maybe encouragement.
"Mm. Uh...I tried t'get away. Tried real hard, b-but– But he had his gun, too, an' when I tried to run, he shot me so...s-so I couldn't– A-And I sometimes...s-sometimes think I can still feel the way that wrench grabbed onto me, a-and–"
His vision swirls as he scrambles to his feet, and he turns tail and runs. But he's not fast enough, and with the crack of a gunshot, he's dropping back to the ground, his leg burning with the bullet that lodges itself in his bone. He feels the Hospitality's blade sink into the soft spot connecting his neck to his shoulder, and he screams, his hands flying up to grip onto the weapon.
"Whatcha screamin' for, son? You're lucky you just got me. My brother would have a damn hayday with you — I ain't half as mean as he is."
The BLU can feel the weapon shift and tug his flesh as the RED drags him back with it, and he gasps as he's pulled back onto his back before the weapon rips out of him, tearing him open further in the process.
"Gr-Grabbed me right here," he says, putting a hand on that chunk of flesh between his shoulder and neck. "Dragged me back along an'...and then..."
He didn't want to talk about that.
"Weren't even t'worst part," he mumbles. He lifts up a hand, running a finger along a thin scar left when the Hospitality's razor-sharp edge sliced open his chin. The Respawn machine hadn't gotten rid of it, just left him with that...permanent reminder. He didn't know why. "Worst was when I tried gettin' away again."
He squeezed his eyes shut. Worked his jaw, moved his tongue around in his mouth. Shifted his hand to grab ahold of his jaw and hold it. Have to make sure, have to make sure...
He barely makes it to his feet again before a hand grabs his shoulder and whirls him around, another hand smashing into his jaw. His jaw cracks, and he can feel it pop out of place, feel his teeth sink into his tongue and bite right through it, feel them fracture as they collide with each other. The punch throws him to the ground, throws his hardhat right off his head and across the way, and the scream he lets out comes with the gushing of blood and the bitten-off half of the appendage falling from his lips onto the rain-soaked dirt.
His breath catches in his throat in a hoarse almost-squeak. He didn't like this part. He didn't like it. His jaw was still in place. He still had his tongue. Fuck, he– He was going back there. He could feel it, he could feel the way his mind was starting to drag him back to that horrible night. Fuck, fuck, fuck, no, no, no–
Metal collides with his jaw. Metal smashes into bone, fracturing it, sending it cracking out of place. His teeth shatter with the impact.
"Mm, mm-mm, no, n-no–"
Crack. Bone. Break. Teeth, slicing through thick muscle. His tongue is gone, it's gone, it's gone–
"I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he mumbles, his breath going quick and ragged. He can't breathe. He can't see. "H-He wouldn't stop– He c-could've just left me with one, but he didn't, h-he didn't, he just kept going, a-and it made my brain hurt and my vision all fuzzy. I don't understand why he didn't just shoot me. I don't understand. I don't understand. Kept punching me, j-just...just kept..."
He goes quiet, trying to catch his breath. Trying to get out of that place. Get him out of there. Get him out, get him out, get him out.
The shorter looks deeply relieved and holds Jed's hands once more.
"You were in your head remembering what happened, Jed. I didn't really know how else to snap you out of it instead of saying something strange. Get ya mind to focus on something else ya know?"
He smiles though in his mind he is going to beat the everloving shit out of Red Engineer later, but right now his friend needs him and that's more important.
After a moment, he continues, "He...He finally realized he'd gone too far when I couldn't do nothin'. Finally just shot me an' sent me back to respawn."
He sniffles.
"I, uh...Fell asleep in our resupply. I...I's just so tired an' I couldn't see nothin', so I just...conked out right then an' there. When I woke up I was in m' bed. Sarge said he carried me to my room when he saw me come outta there lookin' confused."
"N-No, no, I think...I think I just need to take a bit to calm down. I'll be okay." He goes quiet for a moment. He seems to be thinking about something. "I wish me an' him got along better. I mean, he's not done nothin' to me since that night, an' I think the only reason it bothers me as much as it does is 'cause I had just barely finished cookin' when it happened. Jus' wish I could talk to 'im. I see Sarge talkin' to that Soldier of RED's, an' I know Sarge ain't a clone, but they look real, real similar, an'...I dunno. Makes me...envy 'em, I guess."
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It was a rather peaceful day, the snow creating a fresh blanket on the earth and the serene scene being nice from the bloody ones of battle.
On one of the buildings holding high and strong out here was a missing poster. The paper slightly eroded due to time and snow but some text very clear and a picture.
The picture was of a young man with dark brown hair tied in a low ponytail, his skin fair and freckles dotting his cheeks that had a smile on them. A scar was on his left eyebrow and he was holding something but the ink was smeared.
MISSING
The top said though was slightly damaged, the bottom gave a brief description with some missing details.
"Benjamin Madden last seen on ---- entering his warehouse on ---- ---- ------- broken ----- if found please call 911 or (505) --- ---- -----
Answers to his full name or Ben. Has dark brown hair, light blue eyes, fair skin. Freckles on cheeks and shoulders with a scar on his left eyebrow."
He hesitates. That was sure to cause some discord in that head of his. But, at the same time...
"I...I never told nobody about it before. N-Not even my Soldier knows the...the whole thing, he only knows about as much as you do. An' that's just the stuff about Texas RED."
Because talking about the whole thing, talking about everything else, that requires remembering it. And he doesn't like remembering it. It still feels too recent. Like a sore that's still open and festering.
"I, uh...I reckon...I c-could change that," he mutters. "Might...Might help, honestly. 'Stead of keepin' it in."
features excerpts from my fic, Frontier Justice, on Ao3 | cw // violence
"...Okay. Okay."
Fuck, this was gonna suck.
"Uh, w-well, there's the first one, th-the one with Texas RED. Dell. I...I kn-know why he did what he did, but...I don't get why he went so far." He took a deep breath. "S-See, I'd built this thing for my team. This...This li'l recordin' device, we was gonna use it to, um, listen in on their plans. Get us an advantage, 'cause we'd been gettin' steamrolled in every battle up to that point. I figured, if we couldn't win by playin' nice, then we'd play dirty instead."
He remembered how excited he'd been when he first came up with it. How excited he'd been when he finished it. He'd gone up to his Soldier with it in his hands, said to him, "Roy, Roy, have a gander at this!" The old jarhead had clapped him on the shoulder and told him, "Son, if you swing this war in our favor, this whole damn base'll owe you their lives."
It was the first time Sarge had ever been truly kind to him.
"I wanted to sneak it in, hide it somewheres they'd be likely to talk about their strategies 'n' their tactics. My Spy – we call him the Phantom, y'know, like the Phantom of the Opera? it was his idea, I don't know – he offered to be the one to sneak it in. I should've let him, I-I know I should've let him, but I figured, hey, everyone'd be asleep an' it'd be easy for me to slip past their sentries and put it in a good spot. I told him I'd be in there five minutes, tops. I-It went well, at first. Snuck in through a gap in the sentries' detection ranges, started headed towards one of their main buildings. A-And...And then..."
His train of thought is cut short by a searing pain in the back of his head, radiating through his skull and throbbing like he'd been hit by a truck. His vision blurs as he looks through his goggles for what had done it. He stumbles, and as his sight fades, it seems like he's looking into a mirror.
"You sit on down now, son," he hears his own voice say. But it's not his voice. "I'm gonna show you what happens to people what sneak into our base. What happens to trespassers."
With a heavy thud, the BLU collapses to the ground, vision and faculties failing him.
He swallows down a wad of spit. He could still feel the way his head throbbed if he thought about it too hard.
"He smacked me in t'head. Knocked me out cold, or...or at least I think he did. When I woke up, he was just standin' there, starin' at me. I still don't know what happened to the thing I built. All I know is, he was lookin' at me like I was the Devil in disguise. I...I think he thought I was tryin' to hurt his team. Wh-Which, I guess in a way I was, but...I think he thought I was plantin' a...a bomb, or somethin'."
The RED team's Engineer stands over him, staring at him with a blank look on his face, his wrench, the Southern Hospitality, clutched in his hand. The back side of the wrench's head is marked with his blood, and as he puts the pieces together as to what happened, he finally manages to squeak out a sentence.
"Why ain't I dead?" he asks, his voice shaking despite his attempts to conceal it.
That earns the slightest of smiles from the RED Engineer, and he bends down slightly. "Killin' you wouldn't make a point."
"He...He had that wrench of his. The one wit' the blade, an' the the guard wit' the spikes on it. Think he calls it the Southern Hospitality. I have one, too, it, uh...It makes ya bleed real bad. Tears you up."
He hesitates to continue. He sits on those words, glancing up at Ben like he's looking for approval to continue. ...Or maybe encouragement.
"Mm. Uh...I tried t'get away. Tried real hard, b-but– But he had his gun, too, an' when I tried to run, he shot me so...s-so I couldn't– A-And I sometimes...s-sometimes think I can still feel the way that wrench grabbed onto me, a-and–"
His vision swirls as he scrambles to his feet, and he turns tail and runs. But he's not fast enough, and with the crack of a gunshot, he's dropping back to the ground, his leg burning with the bullet that lodges itself in his bone. He feels the Hospitality's blade sink into the soft spot connecting his neck to his shoulder, and he screams, his hands flying up to grip onto the weapon.
"Whatcha screamin' for, son? You're lucky you just got me. My brother would have a damn hayday with you — I ain't half as mean as he is."
The BLU can feel the weapon shift and tug his flesh as the RED drags him back with it, and he gasps as he's pulled back onto his back before the weapon rips out of him, tearing him open further in the process.
"Gr-Grabbed me right here," he says, putting a hand on that chunk of flesh between his shoulder and neck. "Dragged me back along an'...and then..."
He didn't want to talk about that.
"Weren't even t'worst part," he mumbles. He lifts up a hand, running a finger along a thin scar left when the Hospitality's razor-sharp edge sliced open his chin. The Respawn machine hadn't gotten rid of it, just left him with that...permanent reminder. He didn't know why. "Worst was when I tried gettin' away again."
He squeezed his eyes shut. Worked his jaw, moved his tongue around in his mouth. Shifted his hand to grab ahold of his jaw and hold it. Have to make sure, have to make sure...
He barely makes it to his feet again before a hand grabs his shoulder and whirls him around, another hand smashing into his jaw. His jaw cracks, and he can feel it pop out of place, feel his teeth sink into his tongue and bite right through it, feel them fracture as they collide with each other. The punch throws him to the ground, throws his hardhat right off his head and across the way, and the scream he lets out comes with the gushing of blood and the bitten-off half of the appendage falling from his lips onto the rain-soaked dirt.
His breath catches in his throat in a hoarse almost-squeak. He didn't like this part. He didn't like it. His jaw was still in place. He still had his tongue. Fuck, he– He was going back there. He could feel it, he could feel the way his mind was starting to drag him back to that horrible night. Fuck, fuck, fuck, no, no, no–
Metal collides with his jaw. Metal smashes into bone, fracturing it, sending it cracking out of place. His teeth shatter with the impact.
"Mm, mm-mm, no, n-no–"
Crack. Bone. Break. Teeth, slicing through thick muscle. His tongue is gone, it's gone, it's gone–
"I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he mumbles, his breath going quick and ragged. He can't breathe. He can't see. "H-He wouldn't stop– He c-could've just left me with one, but he didn't, h-he didn't, he just kept going, a-and it made my brain hurt and my vision all fuzzy. I don't understand why he didn't just shoot me. I don't understand. I don't understand. Kept punching me, j-just...just kept..."
He goes quiet, trying to catch his breath. Trying to get out of that place. Get him out of there. Get him out, get him out, get him out.
The shorter looks deeply relieved and holds Jed's hands once more.
"You were in your head remembering what happened, Jed. I didn't really know how else to snap you out of it instead of saying something strange. Get ya mind to focus on something else ya know?"
He smiles though in his mind he is going to beat the everloving shit out of Red Engineer later, but right now his friend needs him and that's more important.
After a moment, he continues, "He...He finally realized he'd gone too far when I couldn't do nothin'. Finally just shot me an' sent me back to respawn."
He sniffles.
"I, uh...Fell asleep in our resupply. I...I's just so tired an' I couldn't see nothin', so I just...conked out right then an' there. When I woke up I was in m' bed. Sarge said he carried me to my room when he saw me come outta there lookin' confused."
It was a rather peaceful day, the snow creating a fresh blanket on the earth and the serene scene being nice from the bloody ones of battle.
On one of the buildings holding high and strong out here was a missing poster. The paper slightly eroded due to time and snow but some text very clear and a picture.
The picture was of a young man with dark brown hair tied in a low ponytail, his skin fair and freckles dotting his cheeks that had a smile on them. A scar was on his left eyebrow and he was holding something but the ink was smeared.
MISSING
The top said though was slightly damaged, the bottom gave a brief description with some missing details.
"Benjamin Madden last seen on ---- entering his warehouse on ---- ---- ------- broken ----- if found please call 911 or (505) --- ---- -----
Answers to his full name or Ben. Has dark brown hair, light blue eyes, fair skin. Freckles on cheeks and shoulders with a scar on his left eyebrow."
He hesitates. That was sure to cause some discord in that head of his. But, at the same time...
"I...I never told nobody about it before. N-Not even my Soldier knows the...the whole thing, he only knows about as much as you do. An' that's just the stuff about Texas RED."
Because talking about the whole thing, talking about everything else, that requires remembering it. And he doesn't like remembering it. It still feels too recent. Like a sore that's still open and festering.
"I, uh...I reckon...I c-could change that," he mutters. "Might...Might help, honestly. 'Stead of keepin' it in."
features excerpts from my fic, Frontier Justice, on Ao3 | cw // violence
"...Okay. Okay."
Fuck, this was gonna suck.
"Uh, w-well, there's the first one, th-the one with Texas RED. Dell. I...I kn-know why he did what he did, but...I don't get why he went so far." He took a deep breath. "S-See, I'd built this thing for my team. This...This li'l recordin' device, we was gonna use it to, um, listen in on their plans. Get us an advantage, 'cause we'd been gettin' steamrolled in every battle up to that point. I figured, if we couldn't win by playin' nice, then we'd play dirty instead."
He remembered how excited he'd been when he first came up with it. How excited he'd been when he finished it. He'd gone up to his Soldier with it in his hands, said to him, "Roy, Roy, have a gander at this!" The old jarhead had clapped him on the shoulder and told him, "Son, if you swing this war in our favor, this whole damn base'll owe you their lives."
It was the first time Sarge had ever been truly kind to him.
"I wanted to sneak it in, hide it somewheres they'd be likely to talk about their strategies 'n' their tactics. My Spy – we call him the Phantom, y'know, like the Phantom of the Opera? it was his idea, I don't know – he offered to be the one to sneak it in. I should've let him, I-I know I should've let him, but I figured, hey, everyone'd be asleep an' it'd be easy for me to slip past their sentries and put it in a good spot. I told him I'd be in there five minutes, tops. I-It went well, at first. Snuck in through a gap in the sentries' detection ranges, started headed towards one of their main buildings. A-And...And then..."
His train of thought is cut short by a searing pain in the back of his head, radiating through his skull and throbbing like he'd been hit by a truck. His vision blurs as he looks through his goggles for what had done it. He stumbles, and as his sight fades, it seems like he's looking into a mirror.
"You sit on down now, son," he hears his own voice say. But it's not his voice. "I'm gonna show you what happens to people what sneak into our base. What happens to trespassers."
With a heavy thud, the BLU collapses to the ground, vision and faculties failing him.
He swallows down a wad of spit. He could still feel the way his head throbbed if he thought about it too hard.
"He smacked me in t'head. Knocked me out cold, or...or at least I think he did. When I woke up, he was just standin' there, starin' at me. I still don't know what happened to the thing I built. All I know is, he was lookin' at me like I was the Devil in disguise. I...I think he thought I was tryin' to hurt his team. Wh-Which, I guess in a way I was, but...I think he thought I was plantin' a...a bomb, or somethin'."
The RED team's Engineer stands over him, staring at him with a blank look on his face, his wrench, the Southern Hospitality, clutched in his hand. The back side of the wrench's head is marked with his blood, and as he puts the pieces together as to what happened, he finally manages to squeak out a sentence.
"Why ain't I dead?" he asks, his voice shaking despite his attempts to conceal it.
That earns the slightest of smiles from the RED Engineer, and he bends down slightly. "Killin' you wouldn't make a point."
"He...He had that wrench of his. The one wit' the blade, an' the the guard wit' the spikes on it. Think he calls it the Southern Hospitality. I have one, too, it, uh...It makes ya bleed real bad. Tears you up."
He hesitates to continue. He sits on those words, glancing up at Ben like he's looking for approval to continue. ...Or maybe encouragement.
"Mm. Uh...I tried t'get away. Tried real hard, b-but– But he had his gun, too, an' when I tried to run, he shot me so...s-so I couldn't– A-And I sometimes...s-sometimes think I can still feel the way that wrench grabbed onto me, a-and–"
His vision swirls as he scrambles to his feet, and he turns tail and runs. But he's not fast enough, and with the crack of a gunshot, he's dropping back to the ground, his leg burning with the bullet that lodges itself in his bone. He feels the Hospitality's blade sink into the soft spot connecting his neck to his shoulder, and he screams, his hands flying up to grip onto the weapon.
"Whatcha screamin' for, son? You're lucky you just got me. My brother would have a damn hayday with you — I ain't half as mean as he is."
The BLU can feel the weapon shift and tug his flesh as the RED drags him back with it, and he gasps as he's pulled back onto his back before the weapon rips out of him, tearing him open further in the process.
"Gr-Grabbed me right here," he says, putting a hand on that chunk of flesh between his shoulder and neck. "Dragged me back along an'...and then..."
He didn't want to talk about that.
"Weren't even t'worst part," he mumbles. He lifts up a hand, running a finger along a thin scar left when the Hospitality's razor-sharp edge sliced open his chin. The Respawn machine hadn't gotten rid of it, just left him with that...permanent reminder. He didn't know why. "Worst was when I tried gettin' away again."
He squeezed his eyes shut. Worked his jaw, moved his tongue around in his mouth. Shifted his hand to grab ahold of his jaw and hold it. Have to make sure, have to make sure...
He barely makes it to his feet again before a hand grabs his shoulder and whirls him around, another hand smashing into his jaw. His jaw cracks, and he can feel it pop out of place, feel his teeth sink into his tongue and bite right through it, feel them fracture as they collide with each other. The punch throws him to the ground, throws his hardhat right off his head and across the way, and the scream he lets out comes with the gushing of blood and the bitten-off half of the appendage falling from his lips onto the rain-soaked dirt.
His breath catches in his throat in a hoarse almost-squeak. He didn't like this part. He didn't like it. His jaw was still in place. He still had his tongue. Fuck, he– He was going back there. He could feel it, he could feel the way his mind was starting to drag him back to that horrible night. Fuck, fuck, fuck, no, no, no–
Metal collides with his jaw. Metal smashes into bone, fracturing it, sending it cracking out of place. His teeth shatter with the impact.
"Mm, mm-mm, no, n-no–"
Crack. Bone. Break. Teeth, slicing through thick muscle. His tongue is gone, it's gone, it's gone–
"I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he mumbles, his breath going quick and ragged. He can't breathe. He can't see. "H-He wouldn't stop– He c-could've just left me with one, but he didn't, h-he didn't, he just kept going, a-and it made my brain hurt and my vision all fuzzy. I don't understand why he didn't just shoot me. I don't understand. I don't understand. Kept punching me, j-just...just kept..."
He goes quiet, trying to catch his breath. Trying to get out of that place. Get him out of there. Get him out, get him out, get him out.
“do you want a seal I found somewhere.. or you can substitute it for.. snow globe.”
(In one arm, Gunner’s holding a seal against his side, the wet thing just staring pitifully at Jed. His other hand carries a snow globe that looks a bit old.)
- @featheryheaven
Jed just stares at Gunner and the seal in stunned silence for a moment.
"Um...I-I mean, the...the fella's kinda cute, but...I reckon he might be happier back...wherever you found 'im. Wh-Where did you find him??"
[Hello, I have been thinking this for a long time and it will make sense to come to you for it. Do you think it’s possible to combine two items of what you have to make them more powerful while completely functional? For example these items]
[Example: For the Ubersaw and Vita-Saw swap out the needle of the Ubersaw and put the longer one from the Vita-Saw into place, Remove the wooden cylinder and blade piece Vita-Saw handle, Remove the cylinder flask from the Ubersaw handle and place it onto the Vita-Saw handle, If needed adjust the handle for the Vita-Saw so the cylinder flask from the Ubersaw fits perfectly into place. As for the Kritzkrieg and Quick-Fix take the medigun piece from the Kritzkrieg and remove it from its current medipack, Do the same with the Quick-Fix. Once done place the medigun piece from the Kritzkrieg and attach it to the medipack of the Quick-Fix]
— “This is a really interesting idea — it's been on my mind for a while, but I didn't think anyone would share their thoughts with me on it. I'm glad you came to me with this question, since I already had similar ideas. Let's weigh all the pros and cons and come to a conclusion”
Pros (What you would get):
1. Increased range and effectiveness of the melee hit.
· Replacing the Ubersaw's short needle with the Vita-Saw's longer one gives you a more "long-ranged" weapon. Theoretically, this allows you to land hits from a safer distance, staying out of reach of enemy melee weapons (like the Scout's bat).
2. Comfort and versatility.
· Replacing the bulky Vita-Saw handle with the Ubersaw's vial makes the weapon more comfortable and less conspicuous. It's easier to carry and won't snag on clothing or gear. This is an "aesthetic" plus that could improve practicality in the field.
3. Speed + Crits.
· You get very fast healing (from the Quick-Fix) while giving your patient 100% crits (from the Kritzkrieg). This makes your patient extremely dangerous, especially in close-quarters combat.
4. Mobility.
· Thanks to the Quick-Fix, you can quickly keep up with your patient without falling behind. This is especially useful for aggressive classes like Soldier or Demoman who use rocket and sticky jumps.
5. Synergy.
· The combination of crits and high healing speed makes your patient nearly invincible in short firefights. They deal massive damage and recover health instantly.
---
Now onto the cons —
1. Loss of functionality and durability.
· A weapon isn't just a set of parts — it's a unified construct where each component has a specific function and withstands certain stresses. Swapping parts (e.g., putting a vial on a different handle) can throw off the balance or make it fragile. The Vita-Saw's long needle mounted on an Ubersaw handle could simply snap under a heavy blow.
2. Anatomical and logical mismatch.
· The Vita-Saw is essentially an amputation tool, while the Ubersaw is a bone saw. They have different purposes and balances. Swapping parts between them could make the weapon awkward and ineffective. The long, curved Vita-Saw needle might be inefficient for the straight chopping strikes characteristic of the Ubersaw.
3. Loss of warranty and safety.
· If viewed as a real tool, any DIY modifications could make it dangerous — both for the enemy (due to instability) and for the user (risk of breakage or mishandling). This is basically "garage tuning" of a medical instrument, with unpredictable consequences.
4. Technical issues.
· System incompatibility: The Kritzkrieg and Quick-Fix work on different principles. The Quick-Fix uses a "tether" technology with the patient, while the Kritzkrieg generates crits. Their backpacks may be incompatible in terms of power consumption or delivery protocols.
5. Overheating.
· The Kritzkrieg has a more powerful emitter that could overheat the Quick-Fix backpack, which is designed for a different operating mode.
---
Final verdict:
In the end, we get a powerful but not quite durable hybrid saw — and a powerful but extremely situational tool. The Kritzkrieg/Quick-Fix combo is ideal for aggressive play in short skirmishes, but a complete failure in prolonged fights or against a well-coordinated team.
I would rather try to mix the Medi Gun + Kritzkrieg. Let me show you in a table to make it clearer:
[But the Medic's enthusiasm suddenly vanished, as if he had remembered something unpleasant]
— “But personally, I think we also need the opinion of someone who actually specializes in weapons and mechanisms. Maybe I'll ask the Engineer—... from my team, what he thinks about it. I saw him in the garage recently, I hope he's not too busy right now. Come with me”
[Friedrich led you along, passing by grey-blue walls with peeling paint in some places, a sign that there hadn't been any repairs here in a long time. He stopped near a bulky door that bore the emblem of a wrench. The Medic knocked]
— "Mr. Jedediah, you in there?" ( @icecoldinventing )
// SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLY, I just don't main Medic. I hardly knew anything about his equipment. When I do pick him, I usually just stick with the stock loadout. I hope I understood all the abilities of his weapons/Mediguns correctly. I read quite a few articles to understand their stats, and I also tested his weapons in practice. Honestly, the Vaccinator was the most painful to deal with. I hope I didn't mess up the in-game mechanics and write anything unnecessary. Sorry again for the late reply
The sound of a power drill whirring away, punching a hole through something metal, sounds through the door, squealing as it struggles to bite through the material. The whirring and the squealing stops as soon as the Medic's hand knocks against the door, the sound of a tool being set gently down on a tabletop following.
There's the scrap of a stool against the hard workshop floor, then the sound of things getting kicked out of the way to make a path. Then, after a few seconds, quick footsteps – ones alternating between boot and metal – approach, and the door swings open, the Engineer hiding within offering a curious look.
Hopefully he's got something entertaining, he thinks. Damned sheet metal won't drill out how I want.
"Sure am, doc, sorry 'bout that wait," he says, leaning against the doorway. When isn't he here? "What can I do ya for?"
[Medic didn't wait for an invitation, so he immediately stepped into the workshop. He turned on his low heels and surveyed the room, which was cluttered with various tools and strange devices of unknown purpose. Most likely new, rough prototypes that Jed hadn't had time to finish. Friedrich liked the smell of machine oil and mustiness, so he didn't miss the chance to come in here. Turning to the Engineer, he finally spoke, looking off into the distance with a faint, strained half-smile]
— “It doesn't matter to me what some civilian suggested about crossing my weapons — I'd like to hear your opinion on the matter”
[He handed him the letter with recommendations for modifying his melee weapon and healing device]
— “By the way, you could stand to tidy up around here”
Jed made an odd little sound – a weird squeak, almost – as the Medic stepped past him and into his shop. He trailed behind, watching him survey the (admittedly quite messy) room, the heat of embarassment crawling up his cheeks.
"I-I, uh– I wasn't expectin' company," he admits sheepishly, reaching out and taking the letter. "Well, lessee here.."
He scans over it, having to reread a few bits to catch all of it, humming quietly in deliberation.
"Well, I agree wit' ya on one front – just combinin' parts of somethin' you're pokin' into someone ain't gonna make somethin' what lasts very long at all. You'd have to upgrade darn near everything, I reckon – metal for the needle, glass for the vial, allat that stuff. All-in-all, you'd just be better savin' your existin' tools an' buildin' somethin' from scratch. An' at that point, you may as well work wit' any improvement ideas you got bangin' around, y'know? Probably make it for an entirely different purpose than what the Übersaw or the Vita-Saw are for – you don't fix what ain't broke."
He scans over the potential medigun combinations, pausing to think about the metrics and ramifications.
"I see where this fella's comin' from, suggestin' a swap-around combinin' the Quick Fix an' the Kritz. The Quick Kritz, if you will." He chuckles to himself. God, he was hilarious. "A-Anyway, but it's as you say, they's completely different machines running on two completely different hardwares 'n' modes. You could overclock the central processor of the Quick Fix to handle the Kritzkrieg's output, but at that rate y'all'd probably just fry the whole damn thing. An' on the other hand, you could try the inverse, fittin' Quick Fix parts ont' the Kritz an' try and achieve the same effect that way, but because of how the Quick Fix is inherently more lightweight than the Kritz, y'all'd just end up underclocking it and making everything worse. Either way, you're just puttin' cow crap on a good sandwich."
He chuckles again awkwardly.
"Very suboptimal. I'd go the Medi Gun an' Kritzkrieg approach, myself. Numbers are closer together, an' they're both meant for heavier-weight performance. Vaccinator and Quick Fix also go damn well together – they's just about sixes on their charge rate. Only about, uhh, a second's difference? That said, means their power load's gonna be about the same. Medi Gun an' Vaccinator's a bit sketchier, just 'cause you might have to overclock the Vaccinator's processor to keep up with the power that the stock gun has to put out in order to, y'know, make a fella practically invincible. Though, long as you worked somethin' in to prevent overheating, it'd probably work well."
He clears his throat, looking up from the page and up at Medic.
"I, uh, hope them's the answers you was lookin' for. Combinin' stuff can either be real good or real bad dependin' on what your goal is."
[Friedrich listened to his interlocutor with genuine interest, silent, not interrupting him. But it was a little unsettling that throughout all this time, he hadn't blinked once, nor taken his eyes off Jed. Finally, when the Engineer had finished speaking on the matter, BLU Medic smiled broadly, clearly showing that the answer to his question had satisfied him. And more than that, he had received an obvious but sound piece of advice]
— "Honestly, I'm actually quite satisfied with my melee arsenal as it is. The daily mercenary routine gets exhausting pretty quickly, no matter how much one enjoys violence and scattered enemy remains across the field. So really, modifying what already exists is rather boring. Variety keeps things from getting dull, and if everything worked too perfectly... what would be the point? But I do think it would be nice to expand my ranged weaponry. The syringe gun and crossbow aren't particularly effective when you need to fend off someone chasing you. Perhaps if I had something more like a firearm, my work on the battlefield would be more efficient... And that's where I'm heading with this"
[He stepped right up to the Engineer, trying to smile as friendly as possible, but as always, it came out looking like the kind of grin you usually see at a funeral for an enemy — not the kind you use when asking a teammate for a favor]
— "You wouldn't happen to have any spare guns lying around, would you?"
[Friedrich was well aware that the Administrator had strictly FORBIDDEN both Medics from having more powerful weapons, because a doctor's health has a tendency to regenerate, and that would be unfair to the other mercenaries, which could lead to internal conflicts within the teams. After all, the German would have regenerating health, the ability to build charge for invulnerability, a strong melee weapon, and a decent ranged weapon on top of that. This would shatter the fragile balance and the only agreement between the two teams — to fight on equal terms. Friedrich seemed almost deliberately intent on sowing chaos in this already fragile system, and on top of that, he was trying to drag Jed into the mess.]
Jed stammers, not due to how damned ominous the Medic was, oh no, he was more than used to that, but instead due to what was being asked of him.
It wasn't that he disliked the idea of handing over one of his spare firearms to Friedrich – although, he'd certainly have a hard time choosing a gun to give away – or even that he felt particularly conflicted about it. Rather, he was worried what would happen to him if the Administrator – or anybody on RED, for that matter – discovered that he was the one that had handed a gun over to the good doctor, all the possibilities for disaster and horror that could befall him swimming through his head.
"W-Well, uh..."
He hesitated, uncertain of how exactly to proceed with the matter. Did he just say no? Did he let it happen? Did he just...'accidentally' leave something out.
"That's a bit...L-Look, it ain't that I don't want to, fact o' the matter is I'd love to see what you could do with a gun. But– But I also gotta think about what'd happen if folks found out I was the one what helped you break the one 'n' only rule we got."
Really, he was just worried it'd give RED even more of a reason to use him as their personal punching bag. A lump caught in his throat just thinking about it.
"L-Let alone, y'know, the other issues it'd cause. If'n we play nasty, next thing ya know, we're gon' have them REDs up in here causin' us trouble even when we ain't fightin'."
And, historically, attempting to play dirty hasn't gone well for poor ol' Jedediah.
— "Oh, Jed. You're scared, as always, aren't you? Alright, fine, let's assume it's just caution and a noble desire to protect your team, rather than saving your own trembling ass from the consequences. I'm not judging you, of course — people are generally strange and stupid creatures, doing unnecessary things... or refusing to do things at unnecessary moments. Your fear and worries amuse me a little, honestly, it's even kind of cute in a way, if you forget that you're a grown mercenary. You don't like change. Especially after that incident. I've always wondered, how did you even manage to get caught? After Dell gave you a beating, I tried sneaking onto the base. Just out of curiosity. Now I'm a regular guest there — unofficial, of course. Only Herbert and the RED Spy know about it. I almost feel sorry for Herbert — as soon as I changed my clothes, they already took me for one of their own. That's how little they know their own healer. It's sad and disrespectful, I don't think the RED Medic would want to hear about that"
[Friedrich let out a light chuckle and gave a stiff shrug, trying to appear casual, but it came off as far too unnatural. No matter how hard he tried, he just didn't have the charisma]
— "I'll be honest with you. I don't want to deceive you. I know how your lock opens, I know perfectly well where you keep everything. You're very predictable, even in your mess. Maybe that's what caused your failure that day..."
[He circled around the Engineer, never taking his eyes off him, as if sizing up an object. His gaze drifted over Jed's hand, the one wearing the glove]
— "Don't you want to try something new? Something Dell never did. You don't like being compared to him, yet you keep following his lead... Why? You could come up with something better, I know you could. Or do you not want to? Don't want trouble? Like right now?"
[Friedrich came up behind the Engineer, breathing down the back of his neck. The BLU Medic had always had trouble understanding personal space. And with his eyesight too]
— "Don't you think our fight over these old men's land has gotten way too banal and trivial? If you tell me you're satisfied with everything, I won't believe you. When everyone went to bed, you were sitting out in the cold. You've got no appetite, low spirits, no motivation, you're nervous way too often. It's because you're stuck in this loop. We need chaos — if we play by their rules, we'll end up getting disposed of like expendable materials. Either they get us, or we get them"
[He reached out and straightened the Engineer's collar, his voice dropping lower as he spoke —]
— "You could use a psychologist. Or a proper home environment. When was the last time you let yourself rest? Not in terms of work — mentally. You're always on guard, you even twitch from nightmares at night. Do you do anything besides these metal things?"
He bares his teeth in a discomforted sneer, tilting his head down to stare off somewhere at the floor, shaking his head slightly. He hated it when people did that. Read him like a damn book. It made him feel exposed, and if there was one thing he hated, it was feeling exposed.
He flinches when he feels Friedrich come up behind him, cringes just slightly when he feels the Medic's breath on his neck. He tries to hide it, but he's never been particularly good at lying when it came to his body language. His teeth grind together as the doctor brings up that foul night at the RED base – weren't bad enough poking holes in his mind, had to go and prod open sores, too.
"Weren't my fault," he mumbles. It's not his usual, resigned mumble, like he's ashamed, but rather something more heated. Irritated, maybe even just flat out pissed off. "How was I s'posed to know he was gonna choose that one time to wander out 'n' about?"
He doesn't acknowledge the remark about how he never relaxed. He doesn't acknowledge the way the Medic looks at him, the way his eyes skirt over the glove-concealed robotic limb attached to his right wrist. He wasn't a follower, he was just using what knowledge he had when he'd first finished cooking. His stolen knowledge happened to be good at pumping people full of lead, good at cracking open skulls. Why fix what wasn't broke?
"Why bother askin', then?" he abruptly asks. He doesn't want to talk about himself like that. "If ya want one o' my guns, why not just...take one? Why ain't you done it already? Is it just 'cause you know I'd notice?"
It's not an accusatory question. Really, it's not even one asked in bad faith. He seems genuinely curious as the words leave his mouth. It'd be easy enough just to take one, he thinks. He's not sure about the rest of the team, but he knows he'd be too scared to even do anything about it. Coward.
"An' what happens when the important people notice? Totin' a gun around's awful obvious. Why not just–" An idea crosses his mind.
He hesitates. It's clear that he's thought of something, but just like most other things that are different, different from the status quo, he's hesitant to say it out loud.
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[Hello, I have been thinking this for a long time and it will make sense to come to you for it. Do you think it’s possible to combine two items of what you have to make them more powerful while completely functional? For example these items]
[Example: For the Ubersaw and Vita-Saw swap out the needle of the Ubersaw and put the longer one from the Vita-Saw into place, Remove the wooden cylinder and blade piece Vita-Saw handle, Remove the cylinder flask from the Ubersaw handle and place it onto the Vita-Saw handle, If needed adjust the handle for the Vita-Saw so the cylinder flask from the Ubersaw fits perfectly into place. As for the Kritzkrieg and Quick-Fix take the medigun piece from the Kritzkrieg and remove it from its current medipack, Do the same with the Quick-Fix. Once done place the medigun piece from the Kritzkrieg and attach it to the medipack of the Quick-Fix]
— “This is a really interesting idea — it's been on my mind for a while, but I didn't think anyone would share their thoughts with me on it. I'm glad you came to me with this question, since I already had similar ideas. Let's weigh all the pros and cons and come to a conclusion”
Pros (What you would get):
1. Increased range and effectiveness of the melee hit.
· Replacing the Ubersaw's short needle with the Vita-Saw's longer one gives you a more "long-ranged" weapon. Theoretically, this allows you to land hits from a safer distance, staying out of reach of enemy melee weapons (like the Scout's bat).
2. Comfort and versatility.
· Replacing the bulky Vita-Saw handle with the Ubersaw's vial makes the weapon more comfortable and less conspicuous. It's easier to carry and won't snag on clothing or gear. This is an "aesthetic" plus that could improve practicality in the field.
3. Speed + Crits.
· You get very fast healing (from the Quick-Fix) while giving your patient 100% crits (from the Kritzkrieg). This makes your patient extremely dangerous, especially in close-quarters combat.
4. Mobility.
· Thanks to the Quick-Fix, you can quickly keep up with your patient without falling behind. This is especially useful for aggressive classes like Soldier or Demoman who use rocket and sticky jumps.
5. Synergy.
· The combination of crits and high healing speed makes your patient nearly invincible in short firefights. They deal massive damage and recover health instantly.
---
Now onto the cons —
1. Loss of functionality and durability.
· A weapon isn't just a set of parts — it's a unified construct where each component has a specific function and withstands certain stresses. Swapping parts (e.g., putting a vial on a different handle) can throw off the balance or make it fragile. The Vita-Saw's long needle mounted on an Ubersaw handle could simply snap under a heavy blow.
2. Anatomical and logical mismatch.
· The Vita-Saw is essentially an amputation tool, while the Ubersaw is a bone saw. They have different purposes and balances. Swapping parts between them could make the weapon awkward and ineffective. The long, curved Vita-Saw needle might be inefficient for the straight chopping strikes characteristic of the Ubersaw.
3. Loss of warranty and safety.
· If viewed as a real tool, any DIY modifications could make it dangerous — both for the enemy (due to instability) and for the user (risk of breakage or mishandling). This is basically "garage tuning" of a medical instrument, with unpredictable consequences.
4. Technical issues.
· System incompatibility: The Kritzkrieg and Quick-Fix work on different principles. The Quick-Fix uses a "tether" technology with the patient, while the Kritzkrieg generates crits. Their backpacks may be incompatible in terms of power consumption or delivery protocols.
5. Overheating.
· The Kritzkrieg has a more powerful emitter that could overheat the Quick-Fix backpack, which is designed for a different operating mode.
---
Final verdict:
In the end, we get a powerful but not quite durable hybrid saw — and a powerful but extremely situational tool. The Kritzkrieg/Quick-Fix combo is ideal for aggressive play in short skirmishes, but a complete failure in prolonged fights or against a well-coordinated team.
I would rather try to mix the Medi Gun + Kritzkrieg. Let me show you in a table to make it clearer:
[But the Medic's enthusiasm suddenly vanished, as if he had remembered something unpleasant]
— “But personally, I think we also need the opinion of someone who actually specializes in weapons and mechanisms. Maybe I'll ask the Engineer—... from my team, what he thinks about it. I saw him in the garage recently, I hope he's not too busy right now. Come with me”
[Friedrich led you along, passing by grey-blue walls with peeling paint in some places, a sign that there hadn't been any repairs here in a long time. He stopped near a bulky door that bore the emblem of a wrench. The Medic knocked]
— "Mr. Jedediah, you in there?" ( @icecoldinventing )
// SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLY, I just don't main Medic. I hardly knew anything about his equipment. When I do pick him, I usually just stick with the stock loadout. I hope I understood all the abilities of his weapons/Mediguns correctly. I read quite a few articles to understand their stats, and I also tested his weapons in practice. Honestly, the Vaccinator was the most painful to deal with. I hope I didn't mess up the in-game mechanics and write anything unnecessary. Sorry again for the late reply
The sound of a power drill whirring away, punching a hole through something metal, sounds through the door, squealing as it struggles to bite through the material. The whirring and the squealing stops as soon as the Medic's hand knocks against the door, the sound of a tool being set gently down on a tabletop following.
There's the scrap of a stool against the hard workshop floor, then the sound of things getting kicked out of the way to make a path. Then, after a few seconds, quick footsteps – ones alternating between boot and metal – approach, and the door swings open, the Engineer hiding within offering a curious look.
Hopefully he's got something entertaining, he thinks. Damned sheet metal won't drill out how I want.
"Sure am, doc, sorry 'bout that wait," he says, leaning against the doorway. When isn't he here? "What can I do ya for?"
[Medic didn't wait for an invitation, so he immediately stepped into the workshop. He turned on his low heels and surveyed the room, which was cluttered with various tools and strange devices of unknown purpose. Most likely new, rough prototypes that Jed hadn't had time to finish. Friedrich liked the smell of machine oil and mustiness, so he didn't miss the chance to come in here. Turning to the Engineer, he finally spoke, looking off into the distance with a faint, strained half-smile]
— “It doesn't matter to me what some civilian suggested about crossing my weapons — I'd like to hear your opinion on the matter”
[He handed him the letter with recommendations for modifying his melee weapon and healing device]
— “By the way, you could stand to tidy up around here”
Jed made an odd little sound – a weird squeak, almost – as the Medic stepped past him and into his shop. He trailed behind, watching him survey the (admittedly quite messy) room, the heat of embarassment crawling up his cheeks.
"I-I, uh– I wasn't expectin' company," he admits sheepishly, reaching out and taking the letter. "Well, lessee here.."
He scans over it, having to reread a few bits to catch all of it, humming quietly in deliberation.
"Well, I agree wit' ya on one front – just combinin' parts of somethin' you're pokin' into someone ain't gonna make somethin' what lasts very long at all. You'd have to upgrade darn near everything, I reckon – metal for the needle, glass for the vial, allat that stuff. All-in-all, you'd just be better savin' your existin' tools an' buildin' somethin' from scratch. An' at that point, you may as well work wit' any improvement ideas you got bangin' around, y'know? Probably make it for an entirely different purpose than what the Übersaw or the Vita-Saw are for – you don't fix what ain't broke."
He scans over the potential medigun combinations, pausing to think about the metrics and ramifications.
"I see where this fella's comin' from, suggestin' a swap-around combinin' the Quick Fix an' the Kritz. The Quick Kritz, if you will." He chuckles to himself. God, he was hilarious. "A-Anyway, but it's as you say, they's completely different machines running on two completely different hardwares 'n' modes. You could overclock the central processor of the Quick Fix to handle the Kritzkrieg's output, but at that rate y'all'd probably just fry the whole damn thing. An' on the other hand, you could try the inverse, fittin' Quick Fix parts ont' the Kritz an' try and achieve the same effect that way, but because of how the Quick Fix is inherently more lightweight than the Kritz, y'all'd just end up underclocking it and making everything worse. Either way, you're just puttin' cow crap on a good sandwich."
He chuckles again awkwardly.
"Very suboptimal. I'd go the Medi Gun an' Kritzkrieg approach, myself. Numbers are closer together, an' they're both meant for heavier-weight performance. Vaccinator and Quick Fix also go damn well together – they's just about sixes on their charge rate. Only about, uhh, a second's difference? That said, means their power load's gonna be about the same. Medi Gun an' Vaccinator's a bit sketchier, just 'cause you might have to overclock the Vaccinator's processor to keep up with the power that the stock gun has to put out in order to, y'know, make a fella practically invincible. Though, long as you worked somethin' in to prevent overheating, it'd probably work well."
He clears his throat, looking up from the page and up at Medic.
"I, uh, hope them's the answers you was lookin' for. Combinin' stuff can either be real good or real bad dependin' on what your goal is."
[Friedrich listened to his interlocutor with genuine interest, silent, not interrupting him. But it was a little unsettling that throughout all this time, he hadn't blinked once, nor taken his eyes off Jed. Finally, when the Engineer had finished speaking on the matter, BLU Medic smiled broadly, clearly showing that the answer to his question had satisfied him. And more than that, he had received an obvious but sound piece of advice]
— "Honestly, I'm actually quite satisfied with my melee arsenal as it is. The daily mercenary routine gets exhausting pretty quickly, no matter how much one enjoys violence and scattered enemy remains across the field. So really, modifying what already exists is rather boring. Variety keeps things from getting dull, and if everything worked too perfectly... what would be the point? But I do think it would be nice to expand my ranged weaponry. The syringe gun and crossbow aren't particularly effective when you need to fend off someone chasing you. Perhaps if I had something more like a firearm, my work on the battlefield would be more efficient... And that's where I'm heading with this"
[He stepped right up to the Engineer, trying to smile as friendly as possible, but as always, it came out looking like the kind of grin you usually see at a funeral for an enemy — not the kind you use when asking a teammate for a favor]
— "You wouldn't happen to have any spare guns lying around, would you?"
[Friedrich was well aware that the Administrator had strictly FORBIDDEN both Medics from having more powerful weapons, because a doctor's health has a tendency to regenerate, and that would be unfair to the other mercenaries, which could lead to internal conflicts within the teams. After all, the German would have regenerating health, the ability to build charge for invulnerability, a strong melee weapon, and a decent ranged weapon on top of that. This would shatter the fragile balance and the only agreement between the two teams — to fight on equal terms. Friedrich seemed almost deliberately intent on sowing chaos in this already fragile system, and on top of that, he was trying to drag Jed into the mess.]
Jed stammers, not due to how damned ominous the Medic was, oh no, he was more than used to that, but instead due to what was being asked of him.
It wasn't that he disliked the idea of handing over one of his spare firearms to Friedrich – although, he'd certainly have a hard time choosing a gun to give away – or even that he felt particularly conflicted about it. Rather, he was worried what would happen to him if the Administrator – or anybody on RED, for that matter – discovered that he was the one that had handed a gun over to the good doctor, all the possibilities for disaster and horror that could befall him swimming through his head.
"W-Well, uh..."
He hesitated, uncertain of how exactly to proceed with the matter. Did he just say no? Did he let it happen? Did he just...'accidentally' leave something out.
"That's a bit...L-Look, it ain't that I don't want to, fact o' the matter is I'd love to see what you could do with a gun. But– But I also gotta think about what'd happen if folks found out I was the one what helped you break the one 'n' only rule we got."
Really, he was just worried it'd give RED even more of a reason to use him as their personal punching bag. A lump caught in his throat just thinking about it.
"L-Let alone, y'know, the other issues it'd cause. If'n we play nasty, next thing ya know, we're gon' have them REDs up in here causin' us trouble even when we ain't fightin'."
And, historically, attempting to play dirty hasn't gone well for poor ol' Jedediah.
[Hello, I have been thinking this for a long time and it will make sense to come to you for it. Do you think it’s possible to combine two items of what you have to make them more powerful while completely functional? For example these items]
[Example: For the Ubersaw and Vita-Saw swap out the needle of the Ubersaw and put the longer one from the Vita-Saw into place, Remove the wooden cylinder and blade piece Vita-Saw handle, Remove the cylinder flask from the Ubersaw handle and place it onto the Vita-Saw handle, If needed adjust the handle for the Vita-Saw so the cylinder flask from the Ubersaw fits perfectly into place. As for the Kritzkrieg and Quick-Fix take the medigun piece from the Kritzkrieg and remove it from its current medipack, Do the same with the Quick-Fix. Once done place the medigun piece from the Kritzkrieg and attach it to the medipack of the Quick-Fix]
— “This is a really interesting idea — it's been on my mind for a while, but I didn't think anyone would share their thoughts with me on it. I'm glad you came to me with this question, since I already had similar ideas. Let's weigh all the pros and cons and come to a conclusion”
Pros (What you would get):
1. Increased range and effectiveness of the melee hit.
· Replacing the Ubersaw's short needle with the Vita-Saw's longer one gives you a more "long-ranged" weapon. Theoretically, this allows you to land hits from a safer distance, staying out of reach of enemy melee weapons (like the Scout's bat).
2. Comfort and versatility.
· Replacing the bulky Vita-Saw handle with the Ubersaw's vial makes the weapon more comfortable and less conspicuous. It's easier to carry and won't snag on clothing or gear. This is an "aesthetic" plus that could improve practicality in the field.
3. Speed + Crits.
· You get very fast healing (from the Quick-Fix) while giving your patient 100% crits (from the Kritzkrieg). This makes your patient extremely dangerous, especially in close-quarters combat.
4. Mobility.
· Thanks to the Quick-Fix, you can quickly keep up with your patient without falling behind. This is especially useful for aggressive classes like Soldier or Demoman who use rocket and sticky jumps.
5. Synergy.
· The combination of crits and high healing speed makes your patient nearly invincible in short firefights. They deal massive damage and recover health instantly.
---
Now onto the cons —
1. Loss of functionality and durability.
· A weapon isn't just a set of parts — it's a unified construct where each component has a specific function and withstands certain stresses. Swapping parts (e.g., putting a vial on a different handle) can throw off the balance or make it fragile. The Vita-Saw's long needle mounted on an Ubersaw handle could simply snap under a heavy blow.
2. Anatomical and logical mismatch.
· The Vita-Saw is essentially an amputation tool, while the Ubersaw is a bone saw. They have different purposes and balances. Swapping parts between them could make the weapon awkward and ineffective. The long, curved Vita-Saw needle might be inefficient for the straight chopping strikes characteristic of the Ubersaw.
3. Loss of warranty and safety.
· If viewed as a real tool, any DIY modifications could make it dangerous — both for the enemy (due to instability) and for the user (risk of breakage or mishandling). This is basically "garage tuning" of a medical instrument, with unpredictable consequences.
4. Technical issues.
· System incompatibility: The Kritzkrieg and Quick-Fix work on different principles. The Quick-Fix uses a "tether" technology with the patient, while the Kritzkrieg generates crits. Their backpacks may be incompatible in terms of power consumption or delivery protocols.
5. Overheating.
· The Kritzkrieg has a more powerful emitter that could overheat the Quick-Fix backpack, which is designed for a different operating mode.
---
Final verdict:
In the end, we get a powerful but not quite durable hybrid saw — and a powerful but extremely situational tool. The Kritzkrieg/Quick-Fix combo is ideal for aggressive play in short skirmishes, but a complete failure in prolonged fights or against a well-coordinated team.
I would rather try to mix the Medi Gun + Kritzkrieg. Let me show you in a table to make it clearer:
[But the Medic's enthusiasm suddenly vanished, as if he had remembered something unpleasant]
— “But personally, I think we also need the opinion of someone who actually specializes in weapons and mechanisms. Maybe I'll ask the Engineer—... from my team, what he thinks about it. I saw him in the garage recently, I hope he's not too busy right now. Come with me”
[Friedrich led you along, passing by grey-blue walls with peeling paint in some places, a sign that there hadn't been any repairs here in a long time. He stopped near a bulky door that bore the emblem of a wrench. The Medic knocked]
— "Mr. Jedediah, you in there?" ( @icecoldinventing )
// SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLY, I just don't main Medic. I hardly knew anything about his equipment. When I do pick him, I usually just stick with the stock loadout. I hope I understood all the abilities of his weapons/Mediguns correctly. I read quite a few articles to understand their stats, and I also tested his weapons in practice. Honestly, the Vaccinator was the most painful to deal with. I hope I didn't mess up the in-game mechanics and write anything unnecessary. Sorry again for the late reply
The sound of a power drill whirring away, punching a hole through something metal, sounds through the door, squealing as it struggles to bite through the material. The whirring and the squealing stops as soon as the Medic's hand knocks against the door, the sound of a tool being set gently down on a tabletop following.
There's the scrap of a stool against the hard workshop floor, then the sound of things getting kicked out of the way to make a path. Then, after a few seconds, quick footsteps – ones alternating between boot and metal – approach, and the door swings open, the Engineer hiding within offering a curious look.
Hopefully he's got something entertaining, he thinks. Damned sheet metal won't drill out how I want.
"Sure am, doc, sorry 'bout that wait," he says, leaning against the doorway. When isn't he here? "What can I do ya for?"
[Medic didn't wait for an invitation, so he immediately stepped into the workshop. He turned on his low heels and surveyed the room, which was cluttered with various tools and strange devices of unknown purpose. Most likely new, rough prototypes that Jed hadn't had time to finish. Friedrich liked the smell of machine oil and mustiness, so he didn't miss the chance to come in here. Turning to the Engineer, he finally spoke, looking off into the distance with a faint, strained half-smile]
— “It doesn't matter to me what some civilian suggested about crossing my weapons — I'd like to hear your opinion on the matter”
[He handed him the letter with recommendations for modifying his melee weapon and healing device]
— “By the way, you could stand to tidy up around here”
Jed made an odd little sound – a weird squeak, almost – as the Medic stepped past him and into his shop. He trailed behind, watching him survey the (admittedly quite messy) room, the heat of embarassment crawling up his cheeks.
"I-I, uh– I wasn't expectin' company," he admits sheepishly, reaching out and taking the letter. "Well, lessee here.."
He scans over it, having to reread a few bits to catch all of it, humming quietly in deliberation.
"Well, I agree wit' ya on one front – just combinin' parts of somethin' you're pokin' into someone ain't gonna make somethin' what lasts very long at all. You'd have to upgrade darn near everything, I reckon – metal for the needle, glass for the vial, allat that stuff. All-in-all, you'd just be better savin' your existin' tools an' buildin' somethin' from scratch. An' at that point, you may as well work wit' any improvement ideas you got bangin' around, y'know? Probably make it for an entirely different purpose than what the Übersaw or the Vita-Saw are for – you don't fix what ain't broke."
He scans over the potential medigun combinations, pausing to think about the metrics and ramifications.
"I see where this fella's comin' from, suggestin' a swap-around combinin' the Quick Fix an' the Kritz. The Quick Kritz, if you will." He chuckles to himself. God, he was hilarious. "A-Anyway, but it's as you say, they's completely different machines running on two completely different hardwares 'n' modes. You could overclock the central processor of the Quick Fix to handle the Kritzkrieg's output, but at that rate y'all'd probably just fry the whole damn thing. An' on the other hand, you could try the inverse, fittin' Quick Fix parts ont' the Kritz an' try and achieve the same effect that way, but because of how the Quick Fix is inherently more lightweight than the Kritz, y'all'd just end up underclocking it and making everything worse. Either way, you're just puttin' cow crap on a good sandwich."
He chuckles again awkwardly.
"Very suboptimal. I'd go the Medi Gun an' Kritzkrieg approach, myself. Numbers are closer together, an' they're both meant for heavier-weight performance. Vaccinator and Quick Fix also go damn well together – they's just about sixes on their charge rate. Only about, uhh, a second's difference? That said, means their power load's gonna be about the same. Medi Gun an' Vaccinator's a bit sketchier, just 'cause you might have to overclock the Vaccinator's processor to keep up with the power that the stock gun has to put out in order to, y'know, make a fella practically invincible. Though, long as you worked somethin' in to prevent overheating, it'd probably work well."
He clears his throat, looking up from the page and up at Medic.
"I, uh, hope them's the answers you was lookin' for. Combinin' stuff can either be real good or real bad dependin' on what your goal is."
[Hello, I have been thinking this for a long time and it will make sense to come to you for it. Do you think it’s possible to combine two items of what you have to make them more powerful while completely functional? For example these items]
[Example: For the Ubersaw and Vita-Saw swap out the needle of the Ubersaw and put the longer one from the Vita-Saw into place, Remove the wooden cylinder and blade piece Vita-Saw handle, Remove the cylinder flask from the Ubersaw handle and place it onto the Vita-Saw handle, If needed adjust the handle for the Vita-Saw so the cylinder flask from the Ubersaw fits perfectly into place. As for the Kritzkrieg and Quick-Fix take the medigun piece from the Kritzkrieg and remove it from its current medipack, Do the same with the Quick-Fix. Once done place the medigun piece from the Kritzkrieg and attach it to the medipack of the Quick-Fix]
— “This is a really interesting idea — it's been on my mind for a while, but I didn't think anyone would share their thoughts with me on it. I'm glad you came to me with this question, since I already had similar ideas. Let's weigh all the pros and cons and come to a conclusion”
Pros (What you would get):
1. Increased range and effectiveness of the melee hit.
· Replacing the Ubersaw's short needle with the Vita-Saw's longer one gives you a more "long-ranged" weapon. Theoretically, this allows you to land hits from a safer distance, staying out of reach of enemy melee weapons (like the Scout's bat).
2. Comfort and versatility.
· Replacing the bulky Vita-Saw handle with the Ubersaw's vial makes the weapon more comfortable and less conspicuous. It's easier to carry and won't snag on clothing or gear. This is an "aesthetic" plus that could improve practicality in the field.
3. Speed + Crits.
· You get very fast healing (from the Quick-Fix) while giving your patient 100% crits (from the Kritzkrieg). This makes your patient extremely dangerous, especially in close-quarters combat.
4. Mobility.
· Thanks to the Quick-Fix, you can quickly keep up with your patient without falling behind. This is especially useful for aggressive classes like Soldier or Demoman who use rocket and sticky jumps.
5. Synergy.
· The combination of crits and high healing speed makes your patient nearly invincible in short firefights. They deal massive damage and recover health instantly.
---
Now onto the cons —
1. Loss of functionality and durability.
· A weapon isn't just a set of parts — it's a unified construct where each component has a specific function and withstands certain stresses. Swapping parts (e.g., putting a vial on a different handle) can throw off the balance or make it fragile. The Vita-Saw's long needle mounted on an Ubersaw handle could simply snap under a heavy blow.
2. Anatomical and logical mismatch.
· The Vita-Saw is essentially an amputation tool, while the Ubersaw is a bone saw. They have different purposes and balances. Swapping parts between them could make the weapon awkward and ineffective. The long, curved Vita-Saw needle might be inefficient for the straight chopping strikes characteristic of the Ubersaw.
3. Loss of warranty and safety.
· If viewed as a real tool, any DIY modifications could make it dangerous — both for the enemy (due to instability) and for the user (risk of breakage or mishandling). This is basically "garage tuning" of a medical instrument, with unpredictable consequences.
4. Technical issues.
· System incompatibility: The Kritzkrieg and Quick-Fix work on different principles. The Quick-Fix uses a "tether" technology with the patient, while the Kritzkrieg generates crits. Their backpacks may be incompatible in terms of power consumption or delivery protocols.
5. Overheating.
· The Kritzkrieg has a more powerful emitter that could overheat the Quick-Fix backpack, which is designed for a different operating mode.
---
Final verdict:
In the end, we get a powerful but not quite durable hybrid saw — and a powerful but extremely situational tool. The Kritzkrieg/Quick-Fix combo is ideal for aggressive play in short skirmishes, but a complete failure in prolonged fights or against a well-coordinated team.
I would rather try to mix the Medi Gun + Kritzkrieg. Let me show you in a table to make it clearer:
[But the Medic's enthusiasm suddenly vanished, as if he had remembered something unpleasant]
— “But personally, I think we also need the opinion of someone who actually specializes in weapons and mechanisms. Maybe I'll ask the Engineer—... from my team, what he thinks about it. I saw him in the garage recently, I hope he's not too busy right now. Come with me”
[Friedrich led you along, passing by grey-blue walls with peeling paint in some places, a sign that there hadn't been any repairs here in a long time. He stopped near a bulky door that bore the emblem of a wrench. The Medic knocked]
— "Mr. Jedediah, you in there?" ( @icecoldinventing )
// SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLY, I just don't main Medic. I hardly knew anything about his equipment. When I do pick him, I usually just stick with the stock loadout. I hope I understood all the abilities of his weapons/Mediguns correctly. I read quite a few articles to understand their stats, and I also tested his weapons in practice. Honestly, the Vaccinator was the most painful to deal with. I hope I didn't mess up the in-game mechanics and write anything unnecessary. Sorry again for the late reply
The sound of a power drill whirring away, punching a hole through something metal, sounds through the door, squealing as it struggles to bite through the material. The whirring and the squealing stops as soon as the Medic's hand knocks against the door, the sound of a tool being set gently down on a tabletop following.
There's the scrap of a stool against the hard workshop floor, then the sound of things getting kicked out of the way to make a path. Then, after a few seconds, quick footsteps – ones alternating between boot and metal – approach, and the door swings open, the Engineer hiding within offering a curious look.
Hopefully he's got something entertaining, he thinks. Damned sheet metal won't drill out how I want.
"Sure am, doc, sorry 'bout that wait," he says, leaning against the doorway. When isn't he here? "What can I do ya for?"
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It was a rather peaceful day, the snow creating a fresh blanket on the earth and the serene scene being nice from the bloody ones of battle.
On one of the buildings holding high and strong out here was a missing poster. The paper slightly eroded due to time and snow but some text very clear and a picture.
The picture was of a young man with dark brown hair tied in a low ponytail, his skin fair and freckles dotting his cheeks that had a smile on them. A scar was on his left eyebrow and he was holding something but the ink was smeared.
MISSING
The top said though was slightly damaged, the bottom gave a brief description with some missing details.
"Benjamin Madden last seen on ---- entering his warehouse on ---- ---- ------- broken ----- if found please call 911 or (505) --- ---- -----
Answers to his full name or Ben. Has dark brown hair, light blue eyes, fair skin. Freckles on cheeks and shoulders with a scar on his left eyebrow."
He hesitates. That was sure to cause some discord in that head of his. But, at the same time...
"I...I never told nobody about it before. N-Not even my Soldier knows the...the whole thing, he only knows about as much as you do. An' that's just the stuff about Texas RED."
Because talking about the whole thing, talking about everything else, that requires remembering it. And he doesn't like remembering it. It still feels too recent. Like a sore that's still open and festering.
"I, uh...I reckon...I c-could change that," he mutters. "Might...Might help, honestly. 'Stead of keepin' it in."
features excerpts from my fic, Frontier Justice, on Ao3 | cw // violence
"...Okay. Okay."
Fuck, this was gonna suck.
"Uh, w-well, there's the first one, th-the one with Texas RED. Dell. I...I kn-know why he did what he did, but...I don't get why he went so far." He took a deep breath. "S-See, I'd built this thing for my team. This...This li'l recordin' device, we was gonna use it to, um, listen in on their plans. Get us an advantage, 'cause we'd been gettin' steamrolled in every battle up to that point. I figured, if we couldn't win by playin' nice, then we'd play dirty instead."
He remembered how excited he'd been when he first came up with it. How excited he'd been when he finished it. He'd gone up to his Soldier with it in his hands, said to him, "Roy, Roy, have a gander at this!" The old jarhead had clapped him on the shoulder and told him, "Son, if you swing this war in our favor, this whole damn base'll owe you their lives."
It was the first time Sarge had ever been truly kind to him.
"I wanted to sneak it in, hide it somewheres they'd be likely to talk about their strategies 'n' their tactics. My Spy – we call him the Phantom, y'know, like the Phantom of the Opera? it was his idea, I don't know – he offered to be the one to sneak it in. I should've let him, I-I know I should've let him, but I figured, hey, everyone'd be asleep an' it'd be easy for me to slip past their sentries and put it in a good spot. I told him I'd be in there five minutes, tops. I-It went well, at first. Snuck in through a gap in the sentries' detection ranges, started headed towards one of their main buildings. A-And...And then..."
His train of thought is cut short by a searing pain in the back of his head, radiating through his skull and throbbing like he'd been hit by a truck. His vision blurs as he looks through his goggles for what had done it. He stumbles, and as his sight fades, it seems like he's looking into a mirror.
"You sit on down now, son," he hears his own voice say. But it's not his voice. "I'm gonna show you what happens to people what sneak into our base. What happens to trespassers."
With a heavy thud, the BLU collapses to the ground, vision and faculties failing him.
He swallows down a wad of spit. He could still feel the way his head throbbed if he thought about it too hard.
"He smacked me in t'head. Knocked me out cold, or...or at least I think he did. When I woke up, he was just standin' there, starin' at me. I still don't know what happened to the thing I built. All I know is, he was lookin' at me like I was the Devil in disguise. I...I think he thought I was tryin' to hurt his team. Wh-Which, I guess in a way I was, but...I think he thought I was plantin' a...a bomb, or somethin'."
The RED team's Engineer stands over him, staring at him with a blank look on his face, his wrench, the Southern Hospitality, clutched in his hand. The back side of the wrench's head is marked with his blood, and as he puts the pieces together as to what happened, he finally manages to squeak out a sentence.
"Why ain't I dead?" he asks, his voice shaking despite his attempts to conceal it.
That earns the slightest of smiles from the RED Engineer, and he bends down slightly. "Killin' you wouldn't make a point."
"He...He had that wrench of his. The one wit' the blade, an' the the guard wit' the spikes on it. Think he calls it the Southern Hospitality. I have one, too, it, uh...It makes ya bleed real bad. Tears you up."
He hesitates to continue. He sits on those words, glancing up at Ben like he's looking for approval to continue. ...Or maybe encouragement.
"Mm. Uh...I tried t'get away. Tried real hard, b-but– But he had his gun, too, an' when I tried to run, he shot me so...s-so I couldn't– A-And I sometimes...s-sometimes think I can still feel the way that wrench grabbed onto me, a-and–"
His vision swirls as he scrambles to his feet, and he turns tail and runs. But he's not fast enough, and with the crack of a gunshot, he's dropping back to the ground, his leg burning with the bullet that lodges itself in his bone. He feels the Hospitality's blade sink into the soft spot connecting his neck to his shoulder, and he screams, his hands flying up to grip onto the weapon.
"Whatcha screamin' for, son? You're lucky you just got me. My brother would have a damn hayday with you — I ain't half as mean as he is."
The BLU can feel the weapon shift and tug his flesh as the RED drags him back with it, and he gasps as he's pulled back onto his back before the weapon rips out of him, tearing him open further in the process.
"Gr-Grabbed me right here," he says, putting a hand on that chunk of flesh between his shoulder and neck. "Dragged me back along an'...and then..."
He didn't want to talk about that.
"Weren't even t'worst part," he mumbles. He lifts up a hand, running a finger along a thin scar left when the Hospitality's razor-sharp edge sliced open his chin. The Respawn machine hadn't gotten rid of it, just left him with that...permanent reminder. He didn't know why. "Worst was when I tried gettin' away again."
He squeezed his eyes shut. Worked his jaw, moved his tongue around in his mouth. Shifted his hand to grab ahold of his jaw and hold it. Have to make sure, have to make sure...
He barely makes it to his feet again before a hand grabs his shoulder and whirls him around, another hand smashing into his jaw. His jaw cracks, and he can feel it pop out of place, feel his teeth sink into his tongue and bite right through it, feel them fracture as they collide with each other. The punch throws him to the ground, throws his hardhat right off his head and across the way, and the scream he lets out comes with the gushing of blood and the bitten-off half of the appendage falling from his lips onto the rain-soaked dirt.
His breath catches in his throat in a hoarse almost-squeak. He didn't like this part. He didn't like it. His jaw was still in place. He still had his tongue. Fuck, he– He was going back there. He could feel it, he could feel the way his mind was starting to drag him back to that horrible night. Fuck, fuck, fuck, no, no, no–
Metal collides with his jaw. Metal smashes into bone, fracturing it, sending it cracking out of place. His teeth shatter with the impact.
"Mm, mm-mm, no, n-no–"
Crack. Bone. Break. Teeth, slicing through thick muscle. His tongue is gone, it's gone, it's gone–
"I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he mumbles, his breath going quick and ragged. He can't breathe. He can't see. "H-He wouldn't stop– He c-could've just left me with one, but he didn't, h-he didn't, he just kept going, a-and it made my brain hurt and my vision all fuzzy. I don't understand why he didn't just shoot me. I don't understand. I don't understand. Kept punching me, j-just...just kept..."
He goes quiet, trying to catch his breath. Trying to get out of that place. Get him out of there. Get him out, get him out, get him out.
It was a rather peaceful day, the snow creating a fresh blanket on the earth and the serene scene being nice from the bloody ones of battle.
On one of the buildings holding high and strong out here was a missing poster. The paper slightly eroded due to time and snow but some text very clear and a picture.
The picture was of a young man with dark brown hair tied in a low ponytail, his skin fair and freckles dotting his cheeks that had a smile on them. A scar was on his left eyebrow and he was holding something but the ink was smeared.
MISSING
The top said though was slightly damaged, the bottom gave a brief description with some missing details.
"Benjamin Madden last seen on ---- entering his warehouse on ---- ---- ------- broken ----- if found please call 911 or (505) --- ---- -----
Answers to his full name or Ben. Has dark brown hair, light blue eyes, fair skin. Freckles on cheeks and shoulders with a scar on his left eyebrow."
He hesitates. That was sure to cause some discord in that head of his. But, at the same time...
"I...I never told nobody about it before. N-Not even my Soldier knows the...the whole thing, he only knows about as much as you do. An' that's just the stuff about Texas RED."
Because talking about the whole thing, talking about everything else, that requires remembering it. And he doesn't like remembering it. It still feels too recent. Like a sore that's still open and festering.
"I, uh...I reckon...I c-could change that," he mutters. "Might...Might help, honestly. 'Stead of keepin' it in."
features excerpts from my fic, Frontier Justice, on Ao3 | cw // violence
"...Okay. Okay."
Fuck, this was gonna suck.
"Uh, w-well, there's the first one, th-the one with Texas RED. Dell. I...I kn-know why he did what he did, but...I don't get why he went so far." He took a deep breath. "S-See, I'd built this thing for my team. This...This li'l recordin' device, we was gonna use it to, um, listen in on their plans. Get us an advantage, 'cause we'd been gettin' steamrolled in every battle up to that point. I figured, if we couldn't win by playin' nice, then we'd play dirty instead."
He remembered how excited he'd been when he first came up with it. How excited he'd been when he finished it. He'd gone up to his Soldier with it in his hands, said to him, "Roy, Roy, have a gander at this!" The old jarhead had clapped him on the shoulder and told him, "Son, if you swing this war in our favor, this whole damn base'll owe you their lives."
It was the first time Sarge had ever been truly kind to him.
"I wanted to sneak it in, hide it somewheres they'd be likely to talk about their strategies 'n' their tactics. My Spy – we call him the Phantom, y'know, like the Phantom of the Opera? it was his idea, I don't know – he offered to be the one to sneak it in. I should've let him, I-I know I should've let him, but I figured, hey, everyone'd be asleep an' it'd be easy for me to slip past their sentries and put it in a good spot. I told him I'd be in there five minutes, tops. I-It went well, at first. Snuck in through a gap in the sentries' detection ranges, started headed towards one of their main buildings. A-And...And then..."
His train of thought is cut short by a searing pain in the back of his head, radiating through his skull and throbbing like he'd been hit by a truck. His vision blurs as he looks through his goggles for what had done it. He stumbles, and as his sight fades, it seems like he's looking into a mirror.
"You sit on down now, son," he hears his own voice say. But it's not his voice. "I'm gonna show you what happens to people what sneak into our base. What happens to trespassers."
With a heavy thud, the BLU collapses to the ground, vision and faculties failing him.
He swallows down a wad of spit. He could still feel the way his head throbbed if he thought about it too hard.
"He smacked me in t'head. Knocked me out cold, or...or at least I think he did. When I woke up, he was just standin' there, starin' at me. I still don't know what happened to the thing I built. All I know is, he was lookin' at me like I was the Devil in disguise. I...I think he thought I was tryin' to hurt his team. Wh-Which, I guess in a way I was, but...I think he thought I was plantin' a...a bomb, or somethin'."
The RED team's Engineer stands over him, staring at him with a blank look on his face, his wrench, the Southern Hospitality, clutched in his hand. The back side of the wrench's head is marked with his blood, and as he puts the pieces together as to what happened, he finally manages to squeak out a sentence.
"Why ain't I dead?" he asks, his voice shaking despite his attempts to conceal it.
That earns the slightest of smiles from the RED Engineer, and he bends down slightly. "Killin' you wouldn't make a point."
"He...He had that wrench of his. The one wit' the blade, an' the the guard wit' the spikes on it. Think he calls it the Southern Hospitality. I have one, too, it, uh...It makes ya bleed real bad. Tears you up."
He hesitates to continue. He sits on those words, glancing up at Ben like he's looking for approval to continue. ...Or maybe encouragement.
