DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC?

send one for my muse’s reaction to your muse — @rocket-jump-waltz                    ☁ = being caught in the middle a storm with them .

It’s cold enough that while sitting in the cab of the truck, they can just barely see puffs of their dragon-breath through the front of their own mask.  It fizzled away just as quickly as it came, and it took a few minutes before staring at their own clouds before they grew bored of it and focused back on the road.

Traveling- when it came to being on the Coldfront base was dangerous as is, let alone when it began to snow heavily. But the team would need supplies to continue onward as they did, and while they didn’t need to go all the way into town, there was still a mid-point where they needed to go to retrieve the goods. This not only kept civilians off of the warzone, but kept the mercenaries from wreaking havoc on society. 

It had been the Pyro’s turn to take this trek– however, the team knew all too well that for one, they couldn’t drive, and for another, if they could; they were liable to cause problems on the trip itself. (Not to mention, their lack of experience with snow in general, though the majority of the team would know nothing about that). So here they sat in the passenger’s seat beside the Soldier who claimed that his mid-western upbringing made for him to be ultimate winter-driver, and that no amount of snow could stop the sheer force he could put into a gas pedal.

Which is…. exactly what they were hearing now, once they re-focused themselves on their surroundings again. Grumbling, followed by revving of the engine- and all of the windows seemed to be completely whited-out. It seemed as though they’d driven right off of the map of life into an out of bounds territory, where nothing existed yet. 

Mo stared at the blank canvas before them, then turned to the driver who angrily fumbled around with the gear-shift. Their word-choice could be critical, if the other were truly upset, although their point was often hard to get across as it was. 

Upon seeing the box of dish-detergent, the scout honestly wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh at the mishap, or lightly scold the pyro for not looking over the box first before tossing it into the laundry. She took the box to better inspect it; Peering into the contents to see just how much had been used before the sudsy mess left before them. Couldn’t have been just the little amount that was recommended for dishes alone.

There was a long breath (more so to keep giggles to a minimum) before she spoke again.

“I see- I mean, this is really, really wrong, and you’re gonna have to clean up the soap ‘fore anyone can make sure nothin’ broke, but you were close?” (Her voice squeaked up at ‘close’ like it was supposed to be consoling; They missed the mark, but they were close at least?)

The woman set the box down on top of one of the (hopefully not broken) machines before re-examining the mess again, but this time, a short chuckle was permitted to pass between her lips. A hand found its way to lightly clap the pyro over their shoulder.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it too much, buddy. You got ‘detergent’ right, and think of the bright side: Nothin’ blew up. Considerin’ things around here? I’d call this a pretty minor mess, ‘kay? Now then-” (There was a firm squeeze of their shoulder before she released, walking over to the cleaning supplies) “-Grab a mop. I’ll see how we can get rid of the bubbles.”

                           The figure remained still as she gauged the situation, releasing the box from their grasp with no argument once Jean reached to take it from them. She seemed to think this was pretty darn funny and if they were to take a step back, un-associate themselves with this tragedy, it would be incredibly funny! It’d be hilarious! And amidst this train of thought, they considered laughing along with her. If she was laughing, then she couldn’t be angry. Right?

So they bumbled out a laugh, nodding at the mention that they’d simply grabbed the wrong box off of the shelf. Their reading comprehension was mediocre at best, so that wasn’t too surprising.

The contact of a hand to their shoulder vibrated across their entire frame, and their head turned to face her instead of the mess before them. 

Emergency threat wasn’t going to worsen, so now it was time to clean up. A squeeze to their shoulder to signal that they should get started, and the pyro nodded again in response, moving to take a mop down from a rack along the wall. 

send one for my muse’s reaction to your muse — @scvttt                                               ✂ = threatening them .

                      It was surprising, at least, the intensity at which the scout lashed out at their approach. The figure hadn’t meant any harm, but in the height of the situation, maybe they’d moved too close too fast, or...

Either way, the sudden shout- (GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME, OR I SWEAR TA GOD, I’LL–-) made the pyro idle in place, even so far as backpedaling and withdrawing their hand back to their person. 

Eyes widened beneath the mask, and their hands folded together at their front. Had they done something so terrible? Or perhaps the scout was already upset when they arrived? They didn’t specifically remember doing anything to upset him, but anything was possible. 

                                                    ***

           The next morning, the engineer waited by her beat-up red pick-up truck for her team mate, dressed in civilian clothes, and already having eaten breakfast, packed, and ready to go. The woman made plenty of money, it was a mystery why she didn’t get rid of the hunk of junk and get a new car; most likely, it was due to an emotional attachment to it. It was fine, she supposed– it’s not like she couldn’t fix it whenever it broke down, probably even better than any mechanic out there. Hell, she could probably build her own car if she ever needed a new one.

            She glanced at her wrist watch to check the time, hayseed stem she was chewing on twitching a bit as she waited for the pyromancer to join her. After five more minutes, she heard the door to the front gate open, and she smirked.

            “Hey there, ‘bout time y’ woke up,” she said. “Y’ ready t’ git this show on th’ road?”

                    Bag, uniform, money, tickets–- Everything seemed to be in its right place, and the pyro hefted the strap onto their shoulder. Then, it took a brief scan of the hallway outside of their room to be certain that nobody else was out and about before they could finally scurry outside. It wasn’t so much that their appearance was meant to be a secret; They weren’t ashamed of how they looked, or anything like that. Although in a quick confrontation, they had few doubts that their teammates would think them an intruder, and on occasion, they hardly recognized themselves when looking in a mirror. 

Dolly knew they were coming, and she always knew how to act around them. Or at least, that’s how it seemed from Mo’s perspective. She was kind and thoughtful, and they’d risk their ass to protect her if need be (Though usually, it needn’t be).

They fiddled with the front gate for a moment, finally popping it open and shutting it behind themselves. And despite fully knowing the woman would be out here- the sudden volume and clarity of her voice surprised the pyro;  a slight jump in their step in response before they shook back into a regular stance, raising a hand into a wave.

* (1) word prompts

                         Winter was a largely unknown subject in the pyro’s databank. They hadn’t grown up in an area where snow was common in the slightest, and even after having started with Mann CO. and spending time in Teufort, the cold never seemed to come. Yet, here and now on the slopes of Coldfront, their fingers ached through chills beneath their gloves. Doing rounds of the battlefield was becoming increasingly frustrating, with snow clinging to the bottom of their boots and their entire body descending into full-on shudders during the quieter parts of the fight. 

Things had wound down for the day- and the big squeaky voice in the speaker announced their fantastic win, one billionth in a row! and while this was a great achievement, the ache in their bones set in deeply.

( send me a copic color for a headcanon )

frost blue: does your muse enjoy the snow and cold? or are they the type to enjoy summer more?

peacock blue: is your muse honest? what sorts of lies do they tell, if not?

lapis lazuli: does your muse prefer the idea of exploring the depths of the oceans, or the boundless expanses of space more?

reddish brass: how likely is your muse to step up and take the role of a leader? are they willing to take the challenge, or are they more apt to being a follower?

burnt umber: how stable is your muse, mentally and/or emotionally?

champagne: does your muse drink (alcohol)? are they a heavy drinker, if so?

tea orange: what is something that your muse is fascinated with?

malachite: has your muse ever done anything that they winded up feeling incredibly guilty for in the end?

olive: is your muse prone to feeling envious of others? if yes, what is it that they typically feel envious over?

vermillion: is your muse courageous, or would they consider themselves to be more of a coward?

coral: what is your muse's romantic and sexual orientations?

bougainvillaea: would your muse consider themselves as blunt, or do they beat around the bush instead?

currant: what's something that absolutely disgusts your muse (can be a person, place, thing, ect)?

crimson: how passionate is your muse about the things they love most?

raspberry: what food and/or drink can your muse not get enough of? do they indulge in it often, or is it something reserved for special occasions?

baby blossoms: does your muse have a favorite scent? what is it, and why?

mallow: what sorts of things might remind your muse of those close to them? any scents, objects, sounds?

aubergine: does your muse prefer the day, or are they more of a night-owl?

acacia: how much does it take for your muse to hate someone?

cadmium yellow: what subjects or topics does your muse avoid, because they bring up harmful / painful memories?

honey: when your muse loves someone (whether it be romantic, platonic, or familial love), how do they show it?

chartreuse: if you had to describe your muse with a color, what color would it be and why?

anise: when it comes to self-care, what does your muse do to take care of themselves? do they take care to spend time on it, or do they feel they don't deserve it?

new leaf: what message would your muse send to their past self, if any?

moss: how easily does your muse adapt to any new situations they're thrust into?

silk: does your muse care about appearances much? do they spend a lot of time on their own appearance, or do they just go with the flow each day?

sanguine: does your muse typically have an optimistic, pessimistic, or some middle ground outlook on life?

atoll: if your muse could go anywhere, without any restrictions whatsoever, where would they go? why would they go there?

cool grey: if your muse could ensure one thing for certain in their future to come, what would it be?