mw

mire/giragoji for tha win

supernova prediction

matching for me n gang

minus and concept

idk how to feel abt my mothra design

miregoji/mirei v

eva ref...

anyway my dad died sunday so im not feeling greeat but hwatever Powa through it!!!!

Fritz knew he shouldn't have cared when he heard that scream ring out somewhere above. He should have kept walking. Should have kept following his Heavy, stayed in the relative safety of his 'pocket' (as many called it,) but... Unfortunately, curiosity kills the cat, they say. All the more reason to find out what that curiosity was, to see what killed that cat. And so, with a nudge to Heavy, who responded with a nod, he was off, Übersaw out and at the ready as he tiptoed up the nearest stairwell.

At the top, all that lingered was a spatter of old blood where the wall met the ground, a few stray droplets near the highest couple steps looking like dark beads of dried venom. Old battles would always leave their mark. But there was nothing immediately of interest to the Medic, so Fritz moved on to the connected hallway, hugging walls with his back turned toward the safety of the hard surface, weapon raised and eyes sharp.

It doesn't take long to find fresh blood painting the walls and the floor near one of the many open windows. His first thought was of Arthur, the BLU Sniper— the poor man had probably been face stabbed again. He wasn't the most observant of his surroundings when scoped in, always focused more on actually getting kills than his own life. Fritz sighs, lowering his saw.

But then, some things catch his eye. Things far out of place with his original idea that make him immediately backtrack on his last train of thought.

Firstly, the positioning of the blood spatters was wrong. A face stab wouldn't have warranted a splatter on the wall opposing the window, and if it did, it certainly wouldn't be this big. It'd be droplets at most, unless the attacking Spy got lucky and scored Arthur's throat. To go along with that, no Spy that Fritz knows would *drag* a body anywhere, too worried about their own suit or the thinning time remaining in the match to really hide a body, so there was no reason for there to be smears of blood leading away from the place of the attack. (He knew what the dragging footprints of an injured Spy looked like. This was not it.)

Secondly, something that would confirm his suspicions further, a yellow tipped sniper's bullet. One of BLU issue— he'd dug enough of RED's bullets and shrapnel out of his comrades to know that their ammo differed in color, to match with their uniforms. Arthur, for one, certainly wasn't one to waste rifle bullets in close combat. Or touching his wounds at all, which is probably what would've been required to get the bullet out.

No, that's not it. Fritz frowns. The bullet would've gone straight through, considering the fact that there's a spatter on the wall directly opposite the window, and that most of the rifles of the Snipers were powerful enough to punch a hole through steel at fifty meters. That'd be the only reason the bullet lay on the floor. Arthur would immediately find him if he lived through a shot from a RED Sniper and the thing didn't go through all the way.

So, with all this, Fritz makes a conclusion, and he finds he doesn't like the answer.

The RED Sniper was shot.