#|simply smashing|

Send me “🚼” for your muse to come across my muse who has suddenly turned into a child!

@time-honored-tactics

There was a yell; a crash; a flash; and then a pop. Amongst the random assortment of machine bits and clothing bobs, a skinny red-haired child sat - swamped in a uniform far too big for him and with an expression of mild shock.

Today was Rory’s thirty-eighth birthday, and he had been celebrating rather cheerfully on the battlefield with many crowbar kills (most of which landed on his RED counterpart). However, during the last two minutes of battle, he had been taken out by the other Sniper and had uneasily rushed through respawn. Only instead of stepping out of the strange machine, he was thrown as it exploded behind him. That’s when the world went dark.

@classic-red-rockets

There’s a shout; there’s a swear; there’s a crash and then there’s a groan.

Landing on the hard-packed, dry dirt of the New Mexico desert face-first guaranteed a few inescapable bruises, or at least a scraped knee. Unfortunately for Rory, he received both of those things, as well as a bitten tongue. The sharp, metallic taste of blood in his mouth was what fuelled his fury as he jumped to his feet, ignoring the scrapes on his palms and the peeling skin on his shins.

😡 for an angsty starter

@tfcsniper

The base had been… Quiet.

It was never quiet.

The usual routine of the day was for Rory to wake up early, have breakfast, then go for a run - inadvertently waking everyone else up with his loud and obnoxious singing.

Yet that morning, no singing woke anyone up; no food was missing from the fridge; no dirty dishes scattered in the sink and no lithe body running around the base at speeds normal men would cower away from.

Unconscious RP Starters!

@lohoredscout

“Ah! You’re awake, fuckin’ finally.”

The small mumble had both surprised and relieved Rory; the retired Scout had been terribly bored, leaning against the furthest wall from the ensnared woman. Though it wasn’t all that far - broom cupboards aboard submarines didn’t usually have that much room available.

The Irishman lazily held a half-eaten apple between his long, gloved fingers, and took a large bite out of it as he seemed to scrutinise his apparent successor. She was small, that was a start. Slim. Had put up an awfully fussy fight, yet hadn’t been in the job long enough to learn all the tricks Rory had. She was good - but was she good enough?

Still holding onto his apple, Rory strode towards the bound woman, his bright hazel eyes taking in the good work he had done. She was firmly bound to a chair, her arms and legs held down with the kind of thick rope you’d only find on a submarine. Leisurely, Rory hummed and suddenly dropped onto his haunches, now at eye-level with the interesting woman.

@classic-demolition

A laugh, high and reedy and so happy, bubbled out of Rory’s mouth, accompanied by the gentle, rhythmic splash of long arms keeping a body afloat.“You don’t say?” The old Scout called up to Greg, who leered over the edge of the pier, victorious.

The day had been great so far; after a large breakfast at the local café, chatting with the other residents of his small town, Rory returned home with a full stomach and a grin, only to leave once more upon receiving a call from Greg. In his excitement at seeing his best friend again, Rory grabbed the leash and took his large dog, Duke, with him.

One thing had led to another, and before he knew it, hugging Greg hello had shifted into childish wrestling, right on the edge of the pier. It wasn’t long before Rory was tumbling into the water, soaking wet yet chortling, and Greg was lamenting their age.

@tfcsniper

“Happy New Yea-?!”Thin, warm lips suddenly fell upon Rory’s own, silencing his joyful exclamation as a muffled yelp left his mouth. He was being kissed?! By Sniper?!

A jolt when through Rory, hands clenching and unclenching by his sides as his longtime (and unfortunately denied) crush snogged him for all it was worth. Rory should be celebrating, grinning and laughing and kissing back because maybe - just maybe - it meant something between him and Sniper. Yet the only warmth the Scout felt was burning shame as well as embarrassment.

Send ‘hey there little one’ to interact with my muse as a child!

When Rory opened his eyes, it was to a world of giants. Messy locks of fiery ginger hair fell into wide hazel eyes; a stubby, freckled nose and a buck-toothed gape of wonder. Why was everything so big? Or, more importantly, where was he?

The Scout-turned-child peered around what looked to be a large room, filled with funny flashing thingies and a weird smell. It was like when his Pa burnt toast!Swamped in a heavy blue shirt, reaching his ankles, Rory giggled and kicked his short legs out, liking the swooshy feeling of the dress-like shirt. Though his laughter cut off at the sudden, unfamiliar and funny-sounding voice, and the child stumbled; nearly falling over his own feet.