Uninvited Guests (BLU Event Respawn, Open)

The BLU barracks lie here. The BLU logo that lies above it hangs from a nail, the sloppily painted BLU logo scraping off with age. The windows are boarded up, the nails that hold the boards there rusty from exposure. You swear you see a large spiderweb out of the corner of your eye, but can't bear to look. The floorboards creak as you move inside, and the light coating of dust compliments the cobwebs and aged wood inside. It looks like someone recently halfheartedly tried to clean up the place. They didn't do a very good job of it.

Re: Uninvited Guests (BLU Event Respawn, Open)

Postby Gerhard Melsbach » Sun Aug 26, 2012 11:41 am

Oh, this was just bloody brilliant.
Enrico was extremely less than pleased to see the young Demo come flailing in from left field, scowling when the boy got directly in the line of fire. Goddamnit, did this kid know anything about working alongside long range allies?!
It was lucky the Spy was too out of it to do more that swat the kid, and as the RED went charging off into the trees, the Sniper slung his rifle over his shoulder and stomped across the mossy ground to grab the shorter man by the ear like a mother reprimanding her errant child, pinching sharply.
"Are you bloody THICK?!"
The New Zealander was not normally the confrontational type, but even someone who's job it was to be patient had their limits, and Enrico had never been one to suffer fools well, especially when said fools put others in danger. He was not about to let the Demoman's stupidity go without due punishment.
"I told ya t'keep outta the feckin' way, y'great twit, an' now look whatcha bloody went an' did! Feckin' thing was goin' inna the water an' you had'a go an try a be a big ol' big shot when me an' Ames're tryin'a get it the fuck outta our base!The hell is wrong with you, you not actually take t'the bloody trainin', or didjer Mum drop ya when you were a tyke?!"
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I ain't taking no shit

Postby Penultimate Pi » Sun Aug 26, 2012 9:31 pm

The smack in the head was unexpected, in comparison to a balisong in the spine or, more gruesomely, razor-sharp claws through his neck. Still, Adrian complied and let up, but first planted an unaware stickybomb on the creature's jacket, moving back and away from the blast radius.

Then the sniper grabbed his ear. And talked- no, YELLED about him apparently screwing up.

Oh hell no.

"Well, FUCK YOU!" Adrian retorted, and swung a rage-fueled punch right into the Sniper's face, knocking him out of pinching range and probably breaking his glasses. "Clearly, you ain't been with a Demoman. I get shot and blown up for a livin', but NOW you're sayin' I can't even do THAT, stuck out 'ere in the middle of goddamn nowhere."

Another forceful backhand with the Resistance to shove the Sniper out of his way, and Adrian began stomping back to base. Then he swung around, pointing the launcher at Enrico. "Don't you DARE try to fecking test me." Then he flicked the detonator. Not even bothering to see the (likely weak) explosion, Adrian stomped off, up the porch, and into the base.

God, he needed sleep.
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Postby Tentacles » Mon Aug 27, 2012 1:40 am

Still, Adrian complied and let up, but first planted an unaware stickybomb on the creature's jacket, moving back and away from the blast radius.


The monster was no fool. He had heard the dull 'thoot' as something was shot out of the Demo's grenade launcher. Jasper hadn't dared turned around to see what it was as he ran, but considering the lack of explosion, paired with the smell of Adrian clinging to him and a rather hard, sharp object poking him between his shoulders -

He threw off the jacket and flung himself down. And not a moment too soon as his jacket EXPLODED, causing a clearly visible explosion in the darkness of the forest.

Jasper was going to kill that Demoman. Or at the least, he would not be merciful the next time.

The only good thing was, hopefully, the BLUs would believe him dead now.
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You're tearing me apart... (again)

Postby Marshall Ames » Wed Aug 29, 2012 9:46 am

Adrian really, really wanted to kill that thing. Ames wondered if there was a reason...
As the drama below played out though, he remembered the day the Demoman had set off the charges inside the vault before they'd had the door properly sealed. He thought about the underwater blast that had so recently (it felt like) killed him... -but no, that last one didn't count. He hadn't been knocked into the water yet when Adrian fired that. The Demoman did what needed to be done, and it wasn't like those had been normal situations...

Ames knew this intellectually, but a deeper-down part of the Soldier's brain that was still shaken up from the respawn just wasn't listening.

He saw the RED hybrid disappear into the moss-strung treeline with a sticky clinging to his back, and then the first punch being thrown between his teammates... Ames felt as though he might throw up again, and wondered if doing so out the window would be enough to break up the fight.

Nah.
Probably just start a hole rusting in the corrugated metal patch that reinforced the porch roof, and he didn't feel like smelling that drying in the sun later- -ohgod. Fuck. Definitely the wrong thing to think about...

There was a tall metal trash can in the barracks, and, hastily dropping his rocket-launcher down on an unused bunk, the Soldier made use of it. Dimly, he registered the sound of a sticky-bomb explosion about half a football field away.

Hopefully the dino-Spy out there hadn't been chipped for respawn... but he wasn't counting on it.
Last edited by Marshall Ames on Wed Aug 29, 2012 10:21 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Enrico ain't taking none of your gangster bullshit

Postby Gerhard Melsbach » Wed Aug 29, 2012 10:06 am

The strike was not expected.
Should have been, but wasn't.
Enrico didn't much care whether the hybrid thing lived or died, even though it might have more information regarding what the hell the Companies thought they were up to, so he barely blinked when he heard the explosion.
But being punched in the face by some punk kid who thought he knew what he was doing just because he'd blow up some shit?

Yeah, that was so not going to fly.

The Sniper didn't even bother with a vocal reply, reaching over his shoulder to grab his rifle by the barrel and swinging it around in a manner not dissimilar to a golf club, smacking the launcher from the Demoman's hands before letting go of the weapon entirely, sending both firearms careening off towards the porch while he tackled the smaller bulkier man from behind. An arm went around the Demo's neck, quick as a constricting snake, squeezing tightly as he could while the other hand grabbed for a wrist to twist an arm behind the boy's back.
"I don't much care f'your uppity bullshit, young man. I've slept in the corpses a water buffalo tougher'n you, an' less you can prove me otherwise, I'm gonna be treatin' ya like the wet backed teenager y'bloody actin' like."
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Oh, it's on, boy

Postby Penultimate Pi » Wed Aug 29, 2012 9:12 pm

Adrian vaguely saw the launcher clatter onto the porch as it was knocked out of his hand, and then an instant later was forced to the ground by the Sniper. Naturally, he tried to resist, attempting to pry free the arm around his throat while keeping himself away from the other arm.

And then the Sniper called him a "young man." And a "wet-backed teenager."
Oh, FUCK no.

Adrian immediately threw his arms out, pushing himself up for some sort of separation from the moist earth. Then, with both fists, he smashed his hands into Enrico's skull with brute force. "You want a fight from ME, you damn well asked for it!" the Demoman barked out.
Adrian was NOT a kid, and had been in far too many gang fights to let THIS guy get the better of him. Once more, he tried to get Enrico off of him, this time with much more vigor, and while slowly inching his way to the porch where the discarded weapons lay...
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Re: Uninvited Guests (BLU Event Respawn, Open)

Postby Gerhard Melsbach » Thu Aug 30, 2012 12:09 am

Enrico mentally kicked himself for underestimating the strength of the shorter man, just barely dodging the ham-fisted strike and taking the impact to his shoulder rather than his face.
But he could see that the punches were all the blatant, straight forward haymaker types that permeated so many untrained and under-experienced fighters, the instinctual swing of those looking for the strongest feeling hit, not the hits that actually were strong. Bloody street hoodlums...
Grumbling hoarsely under his breath, the marksman ducked down, twisting his body to slam his elbow HARD into the bulkier man's ribcage. The flak vest would dull the blow some, but it would still hurt like hell and have the Demo breathless for a few precious second.
"Oh bloody big headed street fighter, ey? Come from some gang'a hoodlums cursin' an' swearin' an' dickin' each other's mums? Eat you bloody idiots f'breakfast, nothin' on a proper-sized saltwater croc."
Sure, the reptiles weren't native to his island home, but that didn't mean he couldn't take a 2 hour flight to Oz and wrestle one if he liked. Kiwi or no, he'd long since made sure he knew how to fight, and fight hard.
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