#pypyro

The girl’s head turned like a rusted dial clinging with decayed metal to borrowed time. Honestly, she had intended on destroying his hair the first time around—that was all she wanted to do all this time. But now she was just tired. Probably the most amicable she would be for the day—it was usually easier to get a weary body to do things, if only because it was possibly more troubling to say ‘no’ and have the person persist. “… Gotcha. Like… how you had it before, then?”

Jake nodded, it just felt weird with her so down in a way. “Yeah just the way it was.”

ϟ Something they want their followers to know.

((Oh boy.

I think the main thing I want folks to realize is that, along with my age, my thinking is….different. I don’t follow 99% of the stereotype that people, some on here that follow me, actually think I do. You’d be surprised to how many people assume that I love watermelon, chicken, rap and such. 

If I’m not a fan of watermelon flavored stuff, then why the fuck do you think I want a damn fruit, ESPECIALLY when I like meat?! Sure, I like chicken but I rather have baked or grilled, none of that artery blocking fried chicken. The only rap I will ever like is the old school stuff, all the way up to Tupac and Biggie Smalls. This other crap is just painstakingly aggravating that I want to re-enact the nail gun death scene in Final Destination 2 to my brain.

((✂ - A message my muse wrote after not having written for a while, possibly because they lost the journal or because they have been busy with other things.))

[all entries translated from German]

Dated: 5 June, 1956

I haven’t even looked at this book in six years—every entry still feels as fresh as the day it happened. It feels strange, writing again, but I suppose I’ll try. Medical school and internships have encompassed all of my time. I barely see Wilhelm or mother outside of supper. He’s upset with me about that. I understand why, but I can’t help it.

Who else is going to support this family? Not him.

——

Dated: 9 June, 1956

Overheard some of my ‘colleagues’ in the library—they’re barely qualified to be aides. Their description of a man—a kraut, they called him. They’re lucky I didn’t shoot them on the spot—and their ‘gift’ of self-proclaimed ‘patriotism’ has piqued my interest.

——

Dated: 13 June, 1956

I can’t believe it. They’re the ones that murdered my father.

——

Dated: 4 July, 1956

A German man is murdered on the street, and no one cares. Three American men turn up dead, and suddenly it’s a shame such bright young men were taken in their prime.

——

Dated: 10 July, 1956

I covered my tracks—I KNOW I did. Officers finally take notice of my father’s death, but only after their incompetence allowed for true justice to be taken.

So much for a relaxing walk through the base. I hear the ground is very comfortable these days. Jin would disagree, though, having not planned a meeting with the floorboards at this exact moment. I’m sure they didn’t appreciate the squeal that came with the contact. With a groan, the Pyro lifted her head with a grin. “Is this revenge? Not gonna set me on fire now, are you?”

The landing are far more forgiving on Evette, though the sudden impact of two bodies slamming into fusty floorboards did knock her glasses clean off. Though where too was a mystery to her, seeing as she couldn't see beyond her nose without her glasses. Not that the sniper was all that concerned--oh no: she had something else on the brain. 

Rather than an immediate answer, the shorter woman hid her face, along with a fit of muffled laughter, into Jin's shoulder. "What, you don't like my aggressive love?" she replied with a nasally snort (very attractive there E.), "I'm heart broken Peach.

Ah... Mountain Lab. It was quite a nice base to be in to be honest, even if he had only ever just trained there before. But now he was here for five days, so that meant he had to do his best not to accidentally piss anyone off. 

He didn't want things to end up like they did at Dustbowl after all. He shifted his shoulder for a moment so the backpack he was wearing with all his spare gear in wouldn't slide off.

When he saw the building, he also saw a figure nearby and gave them a short wave of greeting, not able to see their face just yet from the short distance he was at. 

theshortestsniper said: That is what happens when you get two short shits together: LOVE IN THE FORM OF CHAOS. And fire. Lots and lots of fire.