Help I'm Alive

So I think it goes without saying that I’m regrettably dropping from Upward, and closing up activity on my characters for the time being. Should I change my mind you might see me around, but in likelihood I’ll only be playing with a select few and sparingly at that. I’m considering either using these account to reboot my characters or making new accounts to keep these as archives, and dick around with a fresh start. Again, it’ll depend on how I feel.

To everyone I’ve played with, whether it’s been through the last three years or few months, I’ve appreciated the fun we’ve had. My departure is purely for my own reasons. Grad school is too demanding to remain active in a community, and my passion for TF2 just isn’t there anymore. Keep having fun, and don’t hesitate to hit me up if you have my contacts. Peace.

*His brows raise. He wasn’t expecting Isaak to stop on by. He doesn’t feel much spite anymore. Right now, he’s just glad the Heavy is safe. He’s too tired and old to be actively hating anyone anyway.*

-God damn it, he doesn't need to be bothering Gun with this kind of information. Or more accurately he doesn't want  to. He's already given Gun more than his share of gray hairs (metaphorically speaking... but let's be real, it's not like he's a youngster anymore).

But neither is Isaak, hence why as reluctant as he may be to spread this kind of news he has to make sure the Medics are aware of it-

You remember zhe punishments for zhe performance reviews? -He leans against the doorway and lightly rubs his chest through his shirt- Vell Dimitri kicked my ass. And so my punishment vas to have my Ubercharge put back on. 

-Lifts a curious brow- 

You might earn yourself a spanking from Administration if you’re caught here chatting vith your enemy. 

But I already have somezhing zhat pokes people pretty vell. 

-Let it never be said that Isaak's funny in English, but he just so happens to think he's hilarious. So everyone's just going to have to suffer. The fact that he has enough enthusiasm to joke says something about the Heavy's current state of mind. He's feeling more at ease about his situation. And now, thanks to Willie, he can focus on his work again. She's getting a hug whether she's prepared for it or not- 

-Lifts a curious brow- 

You might earn yourself a spanking from Administration if you’re caught here chatting vith your enemy. 

I vas just looking for an opportunity to introduce myself, actually, I've been very quiet since zhe reviews. As I'm sure many of our colleagues and enemies have. Not that you're not an attractive gentleman. 

Vhen you’re a old man like me you’ll realize zhey all hold zhe same amount of charm. But I zhink I’ll have to let time reveal vhether or not you possess any yourself, no offense dear~

-Tugs Pavlova’s leash to pull her closer. She can sense her owners hesitance, and so resists jumping all over Adrian like the friendly dog she is- 

She’s a five year Samoyed and her name is Pavlova. And you’re right, she’s quite precious. You can pet her if you’re careful. She’s friendly, but I’ll show you a bitch if you hurt her. 

Fair enough, old man…Holy hell her coat is so pretty, and well kept. What a beautiful thing. 

I wouldn’t dream of harming her. I have two pits myself, and I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to them. I’d probably throw a fucking fit. 

//Once she’s done her sniffing, he gently touches the top of her head.//

Such a pretty baby. What’s your name, by the way?

//He looks up at Isaak, smiling a little.//

I’m Adrian. Nice to meet you. And Pavlova right her. 

Vhy zhank you, my secret is using a brush. 

-Snorts- 

Yeah, this base is shit ain’t it? It’s much better with me around but like, listen dude, that’s an awesome dog. What kind of dog is it? 

//He leans over at an odd angle./

Vhen you're a old man like me you'll realize zhey all hold zhe same amount of charm. But I zhink I'll have to let time reveal vhether or not you possess any yourself, no offense dear~

-Tugs Pavlova's leash to pull her closer. She can sense her owners hesitance, and so resists jumping all over Adrian like the friendly dog she is- 

She's a five year Samoyed and her name is Pavlova. And you're right, she's quite precious. You can pet her if you're careful. She's friendly, but I'll show you a bitch if you hurt her. 

It’s sad, really, that I can suck dick better than any woman here probably. 

8T

… Is zhat so zhose bastards can fucking TRACK YOU, AUGH, ZHOSE FUCKING—

-Which is followed by a long stream of belligerent Byelorrusian words- 

*he gingerly moves the lighter closer, already feeling the heat of the tiny flame* I tried cuttin’ it with scissors, the kitchen knives, even the knives we use fer fightin’. Nothin’ works. You’d think this thing was made-ahAHHHOWOWOW SHIT SHIT IM ON FIRE MY BEARDS ON FIRE 

*Liam had managed to move the flame far too close to his chin, charring a good deal of his goatee after he finishes screeching and puts it out with his hand* 

Ffffuuuck! That was stupid, God-dammit, I ruined my beard! Seriously fuck this thing AUUUUGH that smells so gross-

You’re going to burn zhe little hair you have on your face, no offense. 

-He takes the lighter and tries to grab a bit of the collar away from the skin enough to hold the flame to it. Which is pretty hard considering how tight of a fit it is. The material doesn’t give way either, even when he holds it there for a long time (until he burns his own fingers and drops it)-

FUCK. Sorry, sorry.

-Picks it up and sucks on his finger- 

*he tilts his chin up, trying not to flinch as the Heavy attempts to burn the collar. Still no progress; even he burns himself on the damn thing. Liam frowns*

Sorry, dude. See? It’s like made of rock or space metal that’s immune to everythin’. 

*slumps forward* It’s total bullshit. An’ what’s worse is Bathory didn’t say nothin’ about how long it’s supposed to stay on. I could look like this till I leave my job, or maybe forevah, even. God..I knew what I was gettin’ into, too, but it doesn’t make dealin’ with it any easiah. 

-Isaak shakes his burning hand through the air a bit as he hands over the lighter, already thinking of other means in which they could try and cut the collar. The thought of hooking Liam up to a couple of base trucks by the collar and having them drive off in separate directions comes to mind. He needs to stop getting high when those American cartoons come on- 

Perhaps one of zhe Engineers can cut through it...?

-That's the best suggestion he's able to think of. Which makes him feel pretty terrible for Liam. All he'd done was lose an arbitrary fight--not that Isaak thinks he deserves his punishment anymore than the Scout does. But, you know, at least he did some shit wrong- 

Ve'll keep trying to get it off. Or perhaps if you... -Huffs and air quotes- IMPROVE your performance, it vill be removed.

-Smiles lightly at the question. No way he's burdening the young man with his problems- 

Vhat zhe fuck are you doing.

…Tryin’ to see if this thing is flammable. If it is, then I am a genius-OW! God that’s hot on my neck! 

*hisses, rubs at the spot of skin he’s burned* 

… Is zhat so zhose bastards can fucking TRACK YOU, AUGH, ZHOSE FUCKING—

-Which is followed by a long stream of belligerent Byelorrusian words- 

*he gingerly moves the lighter closer, already feeling the heat of the tiny flame* I tried cuttin’ it with scissors, the kitchen knives, even the knives we use fer fightin’. Nothin’ works. You’d think this thing was made-ahAHHHOWOWOW SHIT SHIT IM ON FIRE MY BEARDS ON FIRE 

*Liam had managed to move the flame far too close to his chin, charring a good deal of his goatee after he finishes screeching and puts it out with his hand* 

Ffffuuuck! That was stupid, God-dammit, I ruined my beard! Seriously fuck this thing AUUUUGH that smells so gross-

You're going to burn zhe little hair you have on your face, no offense. 

-He takes the lighter and tries to grab a bit of the collar away from the skin enough to hold the flame to it. Which is pretty hard considering how tight of a fit it is. The material doesn't give way either, even when he holds it there for a long time (until he burns his own fingers and drops it)-

FUCK. Sorry, sorry.

-Picks it up and sucks on his finger- 

Once that’s become clear the Heavy can’t hurry to his room fast enough, already with a bowl of water at hand. Of which spills all over the floor when he drops it upon throwing the door open and finding Dimitri sitting on his couch. 

"Vhat are you doing here."

He realizes the answer to that, though, fairly quickly. What with the food and water dishes already residing on the floor. That’s… that’s comforting. As much as he’d rather not be in the Spy’s presence, especially now that he’s got so much more to worry about. Nervously, he kicks the door closed behind him. Which causes Pavlova to stir and finally remove her royal ass from Dimitri’s lap.

He’s startled awake at the sound of something hitting the floor and a splash. He flashes a wry grin—look at those fancy new dentures with pointed teeth—at Isaak and waves.

"Hey there."

Despite his nonchalant behavior he really, really is not in the mood to be graced by the Heavy’s presence. And yet, the moment Pavlova gets off his lap the Spy stretches almost leisurely and takes his time to get on his feet. 

"Naaah, nah. I just felt like having fifty pounds of fluff and love on my lap that growled whenever I tried to move." 

A beat. Dimitri clicks his tongue.

“Yeah, I was stuck. I wasn’t planning on being here by the time you got back from…wherever you must’ve been dragged off to along the other losers by the admin.”

The Spy rubs at his jaw. No, not nervously. Casually.

"Hey yourself."

And unlike the Spy he's not particularly gifted with the ability to remain so nonchalant in the presence of somebody who possibly wants to kill him again. His body remains on guard and against the door as the Spy rattles on and leisurely takes up space on his couch like a lazy house cat.

He lets out a wry chuckle when Dimitri finally references his loss, knocking his head against the back of the door. Of course that was going to come up. Did he really expect anything different?

"Oh, I'm in more zhen one piece actually, you don't have to vorry about zhat."

Isaak glances back at him, still laughing in a tired, exasperated way. At this point he wouldn't be surprised if the Spy was planning on jabbing a blade in his gut on his way out the door. And after everything... he can't really say that he'd blame him.

Even if he's not certain if he's sorry for smashing Dimitri's face in... he's sorry for what he did that angered the Spy enough to make him want to do it. For being a lousy lover, for being selfish, for being too fucking prideful to show remorse and so fucking self-centered he's only become cognizant of this now. 

Because maybe if he'd been a better lover... he wouldn't have had to come home to a man who can't stand him. Even if they'd still been forced to fight one another. And maybe he wouldn't feel so alone right now, despite the fact that Dimitri's starring at him.

The weak laugh is followed with a deep, breathy sigh and walks away from the door and to the chair at his desk. He doesn't want to look at him, because he knows how sickly and terrified he must look. And he's just in no place to pretend to be hard and stoic. 

"And vhat do you mean, my dog? I know you haven't forgotten our promise."

The Samoyed follows him over to the desk and he strokes the top of her head fondly with a shaky hand. Still avoiding eye contact. 

Vhat zhe fuck are you doing.

…Tryin’ to see if this thing is flammable. If it is, then I am a genius-OW! God that’s hot on my neck! 

*hisses, rubs at the spot of skin he’s burned* 

... Is zhat so zhose bastards can fucking TRACK YOU, AUGH, ZHOSE FUCKING--

-Which is followed by a long stream of belligerent Byelorrusian words- 

-Once he finally detached himself from Des the Heavy brought himself outside in an attempt to get some cool air to counteract how utterly like shit he feels. When he hears her voice he smiles weakly and waves a hand lazily in her direction- 

*As soon as he admits that he was taken too, Willie rushes forward to embrace him. She then starts checking him over, looking for obvious injuries.*

Hey now, hey, Villie. If you keep doing zhat people are going to talk. Do I look like I’m bleeding to you? 

-He lets her go to remove the pipe from the side of his mouth- 

I… well you know I’m gonna worry, Isaak. They’re sayin’ some of the ones they took ain’t turned up yet, and the ones that have…

-With a twist of his abnormal tongue the Heavy pops the pipe back into his mouth and takes another hit. Suddenly, he's feeling a lot less conversational. But he knows Willie isn't going to leave until she gets answers. And he cares about her too much not to provide her with any. 

Still, it takes a moment to find the words-

Vell, if it makes you feel any better nobody, nobody kicked my ass. 

-He lets out a deep, breathy sigh and pinches the middle of his eyebrows as he offers her his pipe- 

-Once he finally detached himself from Des the Heavy brought himself outside in an attempt to get some cool air to counteract how utterly like shit he feels. When he hears her voice he smiles weakly and waves a hand lazily in her direction- 

*As soon as he admits that he was taken too, Willie rushes forward to embrace him. She then starts checking him over, looking for obvious injuries.*

Hey now, hey, Villie. If you keep doing zhat people are going to talk. Do I look like I'm bleeding to you? 

-He lets her go to remove the pipe from the side of his mouth- 

Dimitri has been aware of how eerily quiet the bases have been for the past days. Joseph’s gone missing, he hasn’t seen Liam or Donny or even Tess lately, and despite his best efforts he can’t help but be concerned that a certain dog that he tends to “kidnap” a lot hasn’t been walked.

No, really, after the way the battle evolved—that’s what he gets for getting sentimental at the worst moments—he could not give any less of a fuck about Isaak’s well-being. Isaak can go sit on his thumbs and fuck himself on the Admin’s lap, as far as Dimitri’s concerned.

Pavlova, on the other hand…

The C-block at BLU is completely silent as he picks Isaak’s door, and he’s greeted by a whining samoyed. He wrinkles his nose at the smell; she hasn’t been walked, and her bowls are empty. 

"Hey puppy," he sinks to his knees and gives her a friendly ruffle. "There, there. You’re not alone now, you big baby."

Pavlova practically lunges at her food the moment he sets it on the floor, and he pours fresh water in her bowl. While the temptation to let her make messes in Isaak’s room is strong—he would not steal her this time, if Isaak came back to find her missing it would mean Dimitri cares enough to piss him off further, and he won’t have any of that anymore, it’s childish and pointless and he’s too fucking tired to deal with that fatass—he also knows that the samoyed needs her daily exercise.

The hard part is not to take Pavlova out for a walk. The hard part is to leave her back in her room, and the hardest part is to go.

Especially since the moment Dimitri sat on Isaak’s ratty old couch Pavlova jumped on his lap and hasn’t moved since.

Once that's become clear the Heavy can't hurry to his room fast enough, already with a bowl of water at hand. Of which spills all over the floor when he drops it upon throwing the door open and finding Dimitri sitting on his couch. 

"Vhat are you doing here."

He realizes the answer to that, though, fairly quickly. What with the food and water dishes already residing on the floor. That's... that's comforting. As much as he'd rather not be in the Spy's presence, especially now that he's got so much more to worry about. Nervously, he kicks the door closed behind him. Which causes Pavlova to stir and finally remove her royal ass from Dimitri's lap.