#redheav

Sniper looked from where the man had patted, back up to Heavy’s face, saying nothing for a few awkward seconds, but letting out a small, uncomfortable cough into a curled fist. 

“Today is good day to be straight man!”

💉  —— “ Hear, hear! ” 

@redheav​.

【🔧】— The Mojave was harsh and its inhabitants even harsher. As the sandstorm rolled in, the cyborg limped into the mouth of the cave to seek shelter. Nightstalkers were mean animals; the danger of a rattlesnake with the boldness and size of a coyote all in one inconvenient package. While Danielle was skilled in dispatching them, one had managed to bite into her leg and refused to let go even after death, where she had to force it’s jaws open.

       Thankfully, the only one that had managed to bite her had been a young one, too young to develop it’s venomous glands, and Conagher was therefore in no threat of being poisoned. That didn’t stop the threat of infection, however, and the throbbing pain wouldn’t cease until much later, so the woman took her backpack off and used the contents inside to clean, disinfect, and dress the bite.

      Eyes scanning the dimly lit cave, she noticed further in that there was candle light flickering amongst the stones, indicating that someone had or currently was in the cave with her. Keeping her hand on her gun, but keeping it holstered, she called out into the dark.

➤ MS PAINT SCRIBBLES || ACCEPT.

@redheav  

Klaus leapt behind a crate to hide from the bullets that were aimed just at him. The Soldier he had been healing died, leaving the Medic high and dry and facing a RED Heavy on his own. 

As he hid and felt the bullets beating against he crate, he loaded his crossbow with a fresh bolt. It was unlikely he would be able to hit the Heavy and even injure him, but it was the only thing he could dry. 

Misha’s shoulders stiffened the moment the words left the other man’s lips. He scowled silently at the Sniper. As if such a scrawny man could decide so willfully who lived and who died.

But he had been spared, and for that, the Russian lowered his hands that had been raised in surrender. Though he wasn’t about to thank him for not blowing his brains out.

After dusting himself off, Misha finally tore his eyes from the Sniper to glance around warily. The place was dusty. Abandoned, or so it seemed. Was the Sniper living here or just passing through? It was hard to tell. Though he wouldn’t put hiding in one spot past the marksman.

Not that he could talk, with his history in Siberia.

“So–” Unlike Mikhail to be the one to break the silence, but he had to if he valued his life, “What happens now?”

He'd thought everyone in the area already died or left. Following a particularly fierce wave of robots, the group had been scattered in the chaos and gone radio silent. It was concerning to say the least. Cecil was suppressing any worry with his usual reasoning that he hadn't died yet. And ignoring whatever emotional attatchment that may or may not exist for his teammates of several years.

In this way the appearance of the RED was almost an effective distraction. Almost. You couldn't be a good sniper if shifting focus caused you to lose sight of the wider situation after all.

It'd be useful to have someone else around. Who knows how long either of them would find back up, and more enemies were almost sure to swarm again before then.

Lowering the sights of his rifle, Sniper pokes his head out of the rickety tower he'd roughly barricaded and spoke.

August stopped outside the RED base, checking his reflection in one of the dusty old windows. Man, his own base was old and rickety, but at least it wasn’t as run-down looking as the old wooden buildings the other team stayed in.