Ask Blog

Info:

Roleplay/Ask blog run by an unknown origin system, as of right now this particular blog is not run by any particular headmates, and is meant to be an addition to the story/lore involving @askredmedic.

Interactions will be frequent, but know that I don’t tend to rp with strangers, let alone interact with random prompts. Most rp partners tend to be within the askthemercs group (though some askthe____ blogs are exempt and are blocked due to discomfort and drama within the community).

If you’re interested in a character interaction, just send me a DM and ask first! I’ll be far more likely to interact if you approach with context, haha.

General asks, on the other hand, are completely fine so long as they fall within the rules.

Example of an interaction prompt, likely ignored:

“Omg scout it’s so good to see you!!! How have you been buddy it’s been years!!! Remember me??? We should like, totally hang out!!!” - Asktheworchestershiresummoner

Example of an ask, likely answered:

Yo Scout, how has your day been?

Are you sure this is a good idea, Scout? <Insert opinion here.>

You’re the frickin’ light of my life, Scout! Anyways, what’s your favorite food? *hands you an egg*

Jokes aside, keep troll asks to a minimum, please! And once again, make sure that they abide by the rules.

DNI: NSFW, kink, proship, anti-anti, MAPs, fujoshi, exclusionist, anti-neopronouns, TERFs/SWERFs, dream fan/fans, discourse, syscourse, etc.

Basically, don’t be a prick, or you’ll get instant blocked. Disrespect will earn you the blurred badge of dishonor on my blocklist.

Interaction Rules:

ABSOLUTELY NO:

- NSFW asks

- Kink/disguised asks. (If any asks are suspect of this, they will be immediately deleted.*)

- Hateful content

- Bashing the mods (Teasing scout is fine, but please be aware that a human being is behind this account! /lh)

- Cutting into the preexisting story with anecdotes/facts that are unrelated, fabricated, or untrue. (Reacting to it or using facts given within writing are fine! Just don’t make things up for the story canon, as there is a world that the mod is writing.)

- M!A (Sorry!)

- Basically, be respectful, please! These rules will be updated if need be.

* Bad experiences in the past.

Sure, go ahead!:

- Reacting to current story events (within reason)

- Giving guidance/tips to Scout, or chatting with him.

- (Chain asks / Replying to an answer post with another ask is not considered an interaction! Basically, you can reply freely. Feel free to distinguish your anon so that the mod/s and readers know what post you’re responding to.)

- Point things out in the world to the characters with in it, so long as they already exist/are able to be noticed.

- Call on other mercenaries to interact (within reason, and must be within the story world, no @ing please!)

The new scout begins rapidly tapping his foot on the floor, fretting with his hair.

That, and the hurt and confusion of someone he respected and looked up to flippantly saying something so scathing towards him. Like the remark didn’t even take thought to produce. That it had already existed, and only gone unsaid.

He replies flatly, managing to look down his nose at both coworkers, despite one being over an inch taller than he is. Letting out a quiet scoff in regards to the smaller one’s attempt at intimidation.

“Stop that,” his gloved fingers snap a few times in front of Scout, nose wrinkled with disdain. “you are fluffed up like a chicken.”

The room smells like coffee and regret.

He doesn’t quite settle. Forcibly lowering his posture but still stiff. Shoulders flat, elbows angled to where the coat flares slightly to the sides. Stilled where the normally restless shuffle of his feet implied pent up energy.

Resembling a dog that sizes up an opponent it can’t take, gaze flicking around for signs of an opening despite knowing the futility of picking a fight.

Be the bigger man. Repeated to himself like a mantra. Be the bigger man. Don’t start it. Let them come to you. Ma didn’t raise you like that. Make ma proud. Be the bigger man. Make ma proud. Make ma proud. Make ma proud. Make ma proud. Make ma proud. Be the bigger man—

Fist flashing out from the pockets of his winter coat, he makes a run for Spy while his back is turned.

He’ll be nicer when the problem no longer lingers like an acrid taste on the back of his tongue. Probing at his mind, constantly firing off ‘what if’ scenarios. Until then, he will not be happy.

Maybe there will be a time he will grow closer to the new mercenaries. But being on uneasy footing with mortality as a whole; he refuses to be burnt twice so quickly.

Whether Scout notices, Mundy may. The stiffness of his own shoulders, fishing for something in his pockets. A lighter, but no smoke. He simply opens it up, and lets it burn. Fixating on the flame as he thumbs over the engraving, then stows it back away.

“He ain’t the one playing chicken.”

“I am going make something useful out of my time. I suggest you do the same.” He says icily, shooting a glance back at Sniper. “That includes you, bushman. Chickening out with the excuse of recovery isn’t a good look. Just take care not to freeze.”

I’ve got nothing to prove to you. It seemed to say.

Something churns in his gut, the same unease that effected the three mercenaries in significantly different ways. He does notice the stiff, almost abruptness in the movements- the large gap between them, maybe he notices the broken bridge- and despite that, because of that. He does not turn his back to the man.

A warm hand clasps Scouts shoulder, and instead (insistently) turns him away from the Frenchman, keeping his eyes trained on Spy. Despite the opinion that the words said pushed the line of ‘too far,’ a physical spat wouldn’t take them back. The wordless glower was the only response he gave their temperamental teammate. A spark of something heated in the spiteful coldness between them.

Sniper shakes his head and reined back, pinning Spy with a look of detachment. Muttering something low underneath his breath once again, this time it wasn’t meant to be heard by anyone other than Scout.

Pack safety—Don’t split into groups, is the contradictory mindset. Fragmenting a team makes coordination difficult.

Whatever that meant.

Focusing on the weight pressed into his shoulder, Scout squeezes his eyes shut. Willing away the frustration clawing up his throat and wanting release. A deluge of insults would do nothing but cement him as the immature newbie. So he swallows the pent up rage and bites his tongue.

A small comfort was taken in the form of Mundy’s scowl, even as it’s reigned back into a more professional look. Letting a long exhale past his lips, he mirrors the expression of detachment as best he can, taking the more experienced Mercenary’s cue as the Spy’s unhurried footsteps exited the room.

The two are left in blissful silence for a moment, ‘he ain’t worth it’ ringing in the younger mercenary’s ears. Sustained for a while, the quiet is cut short just as he begins to overthink it.

@askredengineer

A mixture of voices surges into the halls, heated debate echoing before being abruptly shushed.

“I’m just saying that we—”

The bassy undertone of Rusty’s voice carries through the uneven walls; even after they’d quieted. Otherwise inaudible but clearly fraught with unease.

@askredmedic

“Herr Engineer, with all due respect—zis cannot get to ze others.” Is the staccato of the Medic’s high-strung voice, dipping below the threshold as they move someplace more private.

Scout casts an alarmed look over his shoulder, blinking at Sniper. Toeing between running after the voices or being good—not eavesdropping when his mind insists he should.

Impulsive. Repulsive. Repelled despite the strong word never being spoken aloud. Against his better judgement, Scout mouths the words for permission.

Sip.

Head casually tilting to the side, Medic takes another sip of the eggnog; unfazed.

"Aw hell, someone's gone and spiked the eggnog," he muttered, heading toward the table to grab the bowl.

If your characters got stuck under the mistletoe with someone, what would happen?

🎁 PROMPT 0912

Gift.

#REDSmissmas2k24 — Mountain Lab Base

Question 09: Mistletoe

Ohhh no. Oh no no no. He would NOT handle that well. He’d get super awkward and flustered, probably apologize too in case it’s someone who feels pressured about it.

He… Probably wouldn’t expect anyone to want to? Not to mention there’d be a few he’d straight up refuse to kiss, even platonically.

If it does happen, the person would probably have to initiate it first. Unless he’s getting a really big confidence boost in a “now or never” type moment, it’s safe to say he’d chicken out under the assumption that he’s making the other party uncomfortable or something.

Scout had a personal stake in the respawn machine.

" Well now, " Engie said gently, keeping his tone steady as he took a step back to face the boy. " Blueprints come from the higher-ups. Old stuff, y'know? Got 'em right before I headed here. Figured we'd need 'em, seein' as this machine's got some quirks to it. But don't you worry — we'll get it fixed. Rusty and I've already got a plan. "

He took a slow sip from his coffee, setting the mug down with a soft clink. " And hey, it's good you're askin'. Means you're thinkin', keepin' an eye on what's important. That's better'n most folks. "

Upon being offered a reassuring smile, the Scout settles a bit. Fingers flicking against each other, but his shuffling feet have stilled.

Gaze fixed attentively on the Engineer, he listens. Eyes sharper on the topic shift—almost akin to a dog in how his head eagerly tilts without his knowing. That kind of sidelong look is ingrained into scouts by default, it seems. But for it to be in relation to something rather pertinent to the team’s wellbeing—something he and the others are equally in the dark about; save for the two engineers—is refreshing.

“Ha—Thanks,” Scout croaks, elbow folded close as he rubs the back of his head. “Ma said I take after my pops in that way… Never met the guy, so I wouldn’t know but—anyway!” His hand pulls away to dismiss the thought, waving it off. “I’m uh, real glad you’ve got a plan. It’s nice to meetcha, and… Well, I’m awful sorry it’s on these terms, y’know? Bad rep when everyone’s stressed, hah…” Clearing his throat, the boy eventually trails off, gaze still fixed on Engie. At this point, it’s getting a little intense. Not that he means it, it seems natural, if a bit off-putting of a behavior.

He gave a light shrug, his tone casual as he took another sip of his coffee. " But, tell ya what. Once I get a little time, I'll whip up a satellite, scan the area, n' get us a proper topographical map. Should give us a better lay o' the land. "

Engie's voice was steady, his relaxed demeanor belying the undercurrent of practicality in his words. Always a step ahead, his mind was already mapping out solutions as he spoke. With a slight tilt of his head, he glanced toward Scout, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

The wide, toothy grin put his buck teeth fully on display. Freckles still not worn in by the constant snow and fog. Smoothing down the rumples on his hat from his previously constant fussing, he instead begins fidgeting out of excitement at the prospect rather than anxiety. Internally, his mind is going a mile a minute, trying to wrap his head around how smart this guy must be to casually bring up such a project.

From what little he’d overheard from Rusty, he knew the guy was… Maybe kinda a big deal? But to the Scout, big deals were everywhere. It kinda flattened out the curve, made it hard to gage who really deserved the title ‘till he met the person in question. So far, a mental checklist is ticking off all the boxes pointing towards ‘yes.’

Calm, kind, mature, but—Scout tamps down his excitement a little to focus more on observing the man—he feels something a bit off there too, probably what got him into being a mercenary in the first place. It sets off a red flag or two, but the boy is perfectly fine to waive it for the sake of a new friend. What’s it matter if they’re all a bit messed up in the head? It comes with the job, after all.

Smart. Definitely smart. Like, really, extremely, SUPER smart. It carried in the way he spoke, the complicated thingymajig where his arm should be, how Rusty would never admit he’s a tad bit jealous of the guy wait what no! He didn’t overhear that, it was a private conversation and he and Medic were alone and so he shouldn’t know that! No thinking about the eavesdropping—Accidental eavesdropping! Or the fact that he was worried about what would happen if not even this guy knew how to—

Scout blinks, realizing that he’d suddenly started staring again. Stammering and unsure what to say, he lands on the current thought and nothing more.

The new scout begins rapidly tapping his foot on the floor, fretting with his hair.

That, and the hurt and confusion of someone he respected and looked up to flippantly saying something so scathing towards him. Like the remark didn’t even take thought to produce. That it had already existed, and only gone unsaid.

He replies flatly, managing to look down his nose at both coworkers, despite one being over an inch taller than he is. Letting out a quiet scoff in regards to the smaller one’s attempt at intimidation.

“Stop that,” his gloved fingers snap a few times in front of Scout, nose wrinkled with disdain. “you are fluffed up like a chicken.”

The room smells like coffee and regret.

He doesn’t quite settle. Forcibly lowering his posture but still stiff. Shoulders flat, elbows angled to where the coat flares slightly to the sides. Stilled where the normally restless shuffle of his feet implied pent up energy.

Resembling a dog that sizes up an opponent it can’t take, gaze flicking around for signs of an opening despite knowing the futility of picking a fight.

Be the bigger man. Repeated to himself like a mantra. Be the bigger man. Don’t start it. Let them come to you. Ma didn’t raise you like that. Make ma proud. Be the bigger man. Make ma proud. Make ma proud. Make ma proud. Make ma proud. Make ma proud. Be the bigger man—

Fist flashing out from the pockets of his winter coat, he makes a run for Spy while his back is turned.

— " Howdy, you're invited: A Very Private Smissmas Hideout! I hope this message finds y'all in good spirits (or at least not blowin' somethin' up at the moment). I reckon it’s been a tough year, so I thought we’d take a well-deserved break and celebrate the season together.I've gone and rented out a cozy little spot far from all the noise to host a private Smissmas hideout. It’s peaceful, got plenty of space, and even a fireplace or two. Bring something warm to wear, 'cause it's gonna be chilly! Date: 1st December 2024 — 31st December 2024 Dress Code: Festive (or whatever's comfy for ya) Now, the location… I'm keepin' it under wraps to keep things extra private. Attached to this message is a set of coordinates and instructions on how to get there.Trust me, y'all don't wanna miss this. There'll be good food, laughs, and maybe even a surprise or two. And yes, the BLU team's invited too — truce zone rules apply, no funny business. P.S. If anyone’s got dietary restrictions (or strong feelings ‘bout fruitcake), let me know! "

CONFIDENTIAL DOCUMENTS:

FOR PRIVATE EYES ONLY

Scout had a personal stake in the respawn machine.

" Well now, " Engie said gently, keeping his tone steady as he took a step back to face the boy. " Blueprints come from the higher-ups. Old stuff, y'know? Got 'em right before I headed here. Figured we'd need 'em, seein' as this machine's got some quirks to it. But don't you worry — we'll get it fixed. Rusty and I've already got a plan. "

He took a slow sip from his coffee, setting the mug down with a soft clink. " And hey, it's good you're askin'. Means you're thinkin', keepin' an eye on what's important. That's better'n most folks. "

Upon being offered a reassuring smile, the Scout settles a bit. Fingers flicking against each other, but his shuffling feet have stilled.

Gaze fixed attentively on the Engineer, he listens. Eyes sharper on the topic shift—almost akin to a dog in how his head eagerly tilts without his knowing. That kind of sidelong look is ingrained into scouts by default, it seems. But for it to be in relation to something rather pertinent to the team’s wellbeing—something he and the others are equally in the dark about; save for the two engineers—is refreshing.

“Ha—Thanks,” Scout croaks, elbow folded close as he rubs the back of his head. “Ma said I take after my pops in that way… Never met the guy, so I wouldn’t know but—anyway!” His hand pulls away to dismiss the thought, waving it off. “I’m uh, real glad you’ve got a plan. It’s nice to meetcha, and… Well, I’m awful sorry it’s on these terms, y’know? Bad rep when everyone’s stressed, hah…” Clearing his throat, the boy eventually trails off, gaze still fixed on Engie. At this point, it’s getting a little intense. Not that he means it, it seems natural, if a bit off-putting of a behavior.

The new scout is wearing a pilot hat, despite the cold being relegated to the outdoors. Hand unconsciously tugging at the sides while he looks the Engineer up and down.

“You look, way tired.” He blurts, head cocking to the side. Multiple moments pass before the realization hits that he hadn’t responded properly, immediately fumbling to overcorrect his mistake.

“Uh, doin’ good-doin’ good! Howdy, errr, hey… Yep, heya pally! I’m uh… Here. And so are you. We’re both here…”

Followed by a failed attempt to casually lean on the doorframe, he stops himself from slipping. Fidgeting instead as the awkward silence extends between the two.

“Yyye-p.”

" Well, " he began, choosing to ignore Scout's awkward response as he took a sip of his coffee. " Rusty and I've been tryin' to figure out what's wrong with the respawn machine. Seems to be an older model — prototype, maybe. Never seen this one before, but it follows a similar design to the older versions of the respawn system. The patterns match up almost exactly. "

Hand freezing, Scout looks up in surprise. Unfamiliarity forgotten over the prospect of a new discovery to do with the base.

“Since when? I-I mean I heard—I thought dat… uh,”

disconnecting and blankly staring ahead, the boy’s eyes lock on the wall. Brain overloaded, foot tapping, he tries to think. Reaching up to fuss with the bits of short, unruly hair poking out from right beneath his hat.

The new scout is wearing a pilot hat, despite the cold being relegated to the outdoors. Hand unconsciously tugging at the sides while he looks the Engineer up and down.

“You look, way tired.” He blurts, head cocking to the side. Multiple moments pass before the realization hits that he hadn’t responded properly, immediately fumbling to overcorrect his mistake.

“Uh, doin’ good-doin’ good! Howdy, errr, hey… Yep, heya pally! I’m uh… Here. And so are you. We’re both here…”

Followed by a failed attempt to casually lean on the doorframe, he stops himself from slipping. Fidgeting instead as the awkward silence extends between the two.

“Yyye-p.”

The new scout begins rapidly tapping his foot on the floor, fretting with his hair.

That, and the hurt and confusion of someone he respected and looked up to flippantly saying something so scathing towards him. Like the remark didn’t even take thought to produce. That it had already existed, and only gone unsaid.

The new scout begins rapidly tapping his foot on the floor, fretting with his hair.