With Friends Like These ((Kitchen))

Old threads from the RED base.

With Friends Like These ((Kitchen))

Postby Connal Reid » Sun Jul 29, 2012 8:53 pm

« Thread Started on Jul 29, 2011, 7:07pm »


Elias Saaresto wrote:Elias sat in the kitchen, twiddling his thumbs. He was beginning to suspect that the men he worked with were far from experts, and thus none of them truly understood the urgency of his request. They had to know each other - intimately - if they wanted to work better. And that didn't mean they had to be chummy. No, they had to know each other's strengths and flaws then work to compliment one another. If one man lagged behind, another had to be quick to take his place and push onward. That was how teamwork... worked.

The RED Spy drummed his fingers upon the table and wondered if at least the Medic would show.


Connal Reid wrote:Connal wasn't sure exactly what time it was, but he had a feeling he was late for that team meeting thing. Which was bad, since Kettu had come up with the idea for it while talking to him. At least he'd be able to walk in on a room full of teammates, and get to finally meet everyone.

As he neared the kitchen, however, he noticed it was... strangely silent. Was he so late that it was over? Would they really end it before everyone was there...? No, Kettu wouldn't do that, they were supposed to be friends, now.

Although it did come as a surprise to the Pyro when he walked through the door, saw Kettu, and only Kettu. He looked around a bit, brows furrowed. "...Don't tell me they're all invisible." It would explain why he hadn't seen any of them, if they were always using those cloaking devices he had been told about.


William Akhurst wrote:From down the hall rapid footsteps could be heard running. Oddly enough the sound seemed to grow closer. It wasn't very much longer before a large body nearly barreled into the RED's Pyro, Connal--a quick grip to the doorway's edge was caught just in time to leave a mere inch between them before he was swinging back, panting slightly.

Face hidden under the wide brim of a brown leather hat lined with sharp teeth, the man grinned as he tried to catch his breath. "Sorry-! Croikey! (pant pant) Thought I was late for sure." Fingers flicked at his hat to push it back, showing a friendly face. Signature aviators were missing from the long face though the uniform could give away just exactly what class the man was, if not his accent.

Will gave the man he nearly ran over good heavy pats on his shoulder. "Ya almost became one with the floor. Again, sorry, mate. I only just passed that notice a few minutes ago." He looked up and into the room, only seeing one other person. He had finally caught his breath and looked a bit puzzled. "Piss! Did I miss it?"


Elias Saaresto wrote:Elias looked up from his seat, acknowledging Connal with a stern look. "Hello." He glanced about briefly, not quite sharing the Pyro's jumpy conclusions. If Anton was here, he couldn't sense it. And he was good at sensing people nearby, visible or not. "I highly doubt t'at--" he found himself cut off by the Sniper who almost came tumbling in.

The Spy regarded his teammates with a look of surprise. "No, you aren't late. No one but you two have shown up so far." Not that Elias was particularly disappointed with the turnout. He'd wait a few moments longer and see how many of his comrades would come out of the woodwork.


Connal Reid wrote:Connal had to make a conscious effort not to bite his lip. Seemed like he might have miffed the Spy when he hadn't meant to, probably because he was late. It wasn't entirely his fault, there weren't enough clocks in the base. Wow, even to himself, that sounded like a bad excuse.

"Whoa!" The Pyro turned, laughing somewhat at the man that nearly crashed into him. Looks like his team had more than just him and Spies, after all. Unless this guy just didn't like dressing in the uniform. After all, he was only in a plain t-shirt and jeans, himself. That rubber suit was just too hot, and it didn't seem like a good idea to be half miserable while meeting everyone all at once. Except this guy was actually wearing a uniform, he realized. Oh well, it had been funny to think about. "You jus' sprinted the whole way here? Man, how far didja run?" he asked, retuning one or two of the pats.

Then his friend started talking again. "'M not late? Rad," he responded, taking a seat next to the Spy. Although it wasn't so cool that no one else had shown up. Hopefully they would. He wondered if Anton would show up. The fact that he couldn't talk might make group settings like this uncomfortable, but the Pyro imagined it would be more uncomfortable to be trapped one on one like how they met. Better to let everyone know at once he couldn't talk, right?


Yuri Vanavitch Karloff wrote:((I don't know where to put this, so I guess this is as good a place as any))

Yuri's train had gotten there late, and he was a full day behind the schedule he'd been sent. Already he knew that he wouldn't be getting the full bounty that was promised to him for participating in this little war. As he got off the train, a car was there waiting, with a man in a suit waiting out front, holding a sign that said Yuri's name in big red letters. The itinerary said that this man would take Yuri from the train station to the entrance of the swamps. Yuri had been to this town before, on his travels. The base was most likely in the atchafalaya swamps, which was more than ten miles west. And even from there, the atchafalayas were a big place, and unless you knew exactly where you were going, you'd be lost. But the car waiting for him was a sedan... a sedan!

With a sigh, Yuri hefted the thick cloth bag for his gun and his backpack upon either shoulders. This would be a long ride.

Yuri sat in the back seat, his luggage safely in the trunk, but the car was far to small for Yuri to get comfortable. He had to sit behind the passenger seat, with his knees pressed against his ear, his head pressed against the ceiling of the car. The driver wasn't all that talkative, but every time the small man tried to talk to him, Yuri would reply flatly "Ya ne ponimaju," and go back to watching the sprawling cypress pass by.

After driving on the atchafalaya crossing for five or so miles, the driver pulled off an exit, and drove down a series of dirt roads that led to a small home that barely remained standing on the decaying dry land. The driver didn't get out, but honked his horn twice.

Out from the small dilapidated home came a man, well into his eighties, hunched over with experience. The old yat muttered to himself as he got Yuri's luggage and threw it into a carved wooden pirogue. After a few moments, a few forms were signed in silence by all three men. Then, Yuri lifted himself out of the car, and walked across the soggy marsh to the pirogue, and sat down heavily. The little wooden boat slid in the mud, and almost went to float when the old cajun man caught the boat with a long hooked gondola pole.

The ride through the swamp was a long one, just as silent and as awkward as the drive. The steady pace of the old yat's gondola pole, driving them deeper into the swamp, each stroke accompanied with a muttered "Das bon, das bon"

Finally, the base was in sight. Yuri's itinerary told him that the cease fire was still in effect, but he'd learned long ago that schedules tend to fall apart when put into action.

Yuri walked off the boat, holding his tomislav in one hand with ease, the case stuck in his bag, which hung over his shoulder loosely. As he walked towards the red base, he wondered how this place would faire in the heat of battle.

He walked down the hallways, and was passing the kitchen when he heard voices. His hands full, he simply kicked the door open, and it swung wide. Inside were standing three men, all dressed in red. With a smile on his face, he hoisted his gun onto the counter, the granite cracking a little from the weight, and he said simply, "Hello. I am heavy weapons guy. Who might you be?"


William Akhurst wrote:"Oh. Well then... G'day to the both of ya then." Will cracked a smile when the bright haired man didn't seem to take the close call seriously. The man even laughed which gave hope to the Aussie that his team wouldn't be filled with a bunch of pricks. It was turning out good already. While they waited for the others, Will grabbed a seat at a separate table. Not to be mean, but just so that he could take a seat and stretch his legs out, hooking his boots on the edge of an empty seat. "Ran the entire way, mate. Though... Got a little lost on the way."

He only got situated and comfortable when he was alerted to heavy steps and then suddenly a voice that had his eyes opening up to see who had also arrived. "Hah!" was his exclamation of happiness when he saw the mountain of a man. Their Heavy. Cripes, he hadn't seen one of them in a long while. At the sudden noise, he settled back in his chair, waving a hand at the group in apology. He was getting excited about meeting his team; acting like a bloody newbie. 'Calm down, ya old dingo. It's just the team.'


Connal Reid wrote:Connal nodded, and was about to respond, until the door flung open with a crash. He jumped to his feet, half-expecting to be attacked, but paused, looking up... and up. The initial shock faded, and the redhead's mouth fell open, taking in the site of his new teammate. "Ho-holy shit!" he half-laughed, giving a lopsided grin. The man looked like he was part-giant, straight out of one of those stories his grandmother used to tell him.

The Pyro was much less restrained in his excitement. "Lookit you, you're like a mountain! I ain't ever seen anyone so big!" He certainly wasn't used to being that much shorter than someone, either, and it wasn't just the height. This was just so cool. Imagine how the BLU team would react, seeing that charging towards them. It was then he realized he hadn't answered the Heavy Weapons Guy's (so fitting) question. "I'm the Pyro, 'm jus' not wearin' the suit right now 'cause it's hot as hell."


Elias Saaresto wrote:Not knowing what to make of the exchange between Pyro and Sniper, Elias merely rolled his shoulders forward, trying to work out the tension already present. At least one of them was enthusiastic about this meeting. As a man of impeccable self-control, Elias rarely let himself get as jumpy and eager as Connal. It'd probably do him some good, though, to spend more time around all this energy. The Spy had drive but little ambition.

To their Sniper, Elias bowed his head in greeting. "Afternoon." He cared not about the man's lax behavior and as they had yet to begin, it was excusable. Elias had faith that the laidback attitude would not be present on the battlefield.

Hearing the hinges of the door hiss before the slam against the wall, Elias snapped his attention towards the kitchen entrance. "I would be one of de Spies."

Elias regarded the newcomer with a hint of awe. If ever intimidation were to be personified, this man would fit the mold.


Yuri Vanavitch Karloff wrote:Yuri's eyes flicked to the skinny man who hadn't spoken more than a few words, with a hat adorned with sharp teeth. The look about him was that of many a man who'd come by his grandfather's shop. Sinewy, spindly, jittery, prone to make quick movements when needed to. If this man wasn't behind a rifle, he wasn't home. Yuri walked over to him, and patted the small man on his shoulder, "And you must be sniper, Da?"

Yuri sighed, scooping up a sealed package of peanuts that lay on the counter, and worked a single legume through the tight seal of the plastic. Just as it was about to fall out and onto the ground, Yuri's thumb flicked, and the peanut flew up to his slightly open mouth, making a slight click as it hit his tooth.

He lifted a stool with his free hand, and pulled it up to the three, and sat down atop it, his feet still flat on the ground, the legs bowing out, his back arched down low so that he could look the other men in the eye in the low kitchen. "And please, don't be afraid. You need only be scared of me if you have angered me." Another time, he flicked a peanut out of the package, and into his mouth, the nut clicking against his tooth," So, now that we know what we are, who are we?" Flick. Click. Om. "I am called Yuri Vanavich Karloff. I was to be... Better than I am now. Now I simply work to help my family subsist." Flick. Click. Om.

To those who didn't know Yuri, this would seem strange, not knowing these people for seconds and already trying to know them, but Yuri's experiences had taught him that when your working with a team of people, especially motley ones such as these, it's best to get to know them, to know how they think.


William Akhurst wrote:Seemed like Connal spoke aloud what he had thought about the new comer. Well, saved him time and words. But honestly, the man was just... Not startling---The man was massive enough that he just simply 'was'. There was no other words to describe it. And as everyone else introduced themselves, Will was singled out. 'Should have spoken up sooner, mate.'

The silent berate to himself was cut short by a massive paw that jostled his laid back position. He braced himself on his chair before giving a small chuckle, nodding. "Yep. That would be me. Will Akhurst." Might as well get his name in there while they were at it. That out of the way now he shifted and got back into his comfortable stance, arms crossed over the stomach of his uniform.

The Yuri bloke seemed like a good guy. He wasn't exactly getting any particularly bad vibes from the large man; the only one that he could pick up at the moment was that this wasn't the man's first rodeo. This was good news. Made things a lot more easier for everyone. However, a glance around the other two-Connal and the Spook-it was hard to figure out if they were new to this. Spies. Even if the man told him that this was either his first time or his hundredth, Will wouldn't know whether to believe him or not. But if the guy made it as a Spy then he must be good at what he does. As for their Pyro... Hell, he was just happy that the man had a sense of humor and could laugh. If he was new to this was still in question, but the odds now were sinking.

Seemed like introductions were underway with or without everyone there thanks to Yuri. Not a man to piddle around. But a family man it seemed. Will would have been happy to go next to speak up about his reason for being here. But... now that he thought over what he was about to say, it didn't sound like a good reason at all. The Sniper kept his mouth shut, letting someone else go next.


Connal Reid wrote:"Name's Connal Reid," he began, sitting back down. Silly, it was almost like an AA meeting, saying who you were and why you were there. Not that he'd been to any himself, but plenty of people he had known had. "I'm here 'cause..." The Pyro had to stop and think a second. The exact details seemed a tad inappropriate.

"Because life's got a funny way of workin' out, sometimes, and it turns out I like to burn things," Reid finished, with a nod. That seemed to sum things up nicely, without going into things he didn't want to talk about. Like his brother.


Tom Cucinotta wrote:He detested the fact that he was late. That he-the Team Leader-was not on time. It made him cringe, and swell in self disgust. He should he ashamed. But it was better to show up later, then never.
Dark, heeled boots clicked down the wooden hallways, the short, cold man finally stepping into the kitchen, his back straightened. A sweeping glance around the room showed a Spy-Elias, was it?-along with a man with a Mohawk.. additionally there was a Sniper-a familiar one at that. And-lord have mercy-a giant of a man. Hands folded behind his back, Tom stood straight. These were the members of his team that had shown up, hm? He knew there were more. But, well.. he wasn’t the last, at least. That calmed him down if anything else. Silent, he glanced down, and then up again. “So.” He started, his voice thickly accented, but crisp. “You are the only ones that have shown up.” Walking towards the middle of the room, Tom continued to eye his teammates, scrutinizing them. It was not a warm, tender look-not in the slightest. For whatever reason-perhaps his own lateness-the Italian man seemed exceptionally cold, and quite unfriendly. Or maybe that was just what he put on. It was hard to tell, honestly.


Riley O'Neil wrote:Tom wasn't the only one running late; Riley was too but not because of any minor invonviences; he had simply been reluctant to attend. Aside from Tom and Kettu, he hardly knew anyone. Lingering in the warehouse corner he now called home, he'd ventured forth toward the base, knowing that his appearance would most certainly set Tom off, he was part of the team though and maybe showing his face would do some good.

Entering the wooden base made him tense and he stopped to pick up his tail, holding it up and off the floor so as to give himself some stealth in case Tom was there and already preaching to the team if more had arrived.

Nearing the Mess Hall, he stopped short of the doorway, already able to hear Tom talking to...he didn't know how many people. More than just Tom and Kettu that was for sure. Hesitating in the middle of the hallway, he pressed his side up against a wall and crept toward the doorway, trying to work up the nerve to just- walk in because he was part of the team. Easier said than done.


Anton Markovic wrote:Footsteps calm and unhurried, despite the fact he knew he was late, Anton made his way to the Kitchen. It wasn't that he didn't think it was important, indeed he knew this was vital to how the team would perform in battle, he just didn't really care about punctuality. He wasn't that late, they would all be there when he got there.

He briefly spared a glance at the croc-person hovering outside the doorway. He simply went around them, slipping into the room, taking a place on the wall a fair distance from the others. He made no move to greet the others, he simply leaned against the surface and scanned over the people already present.

It seemed he was one of the last people there, there was a number of people already there, some that he knew already and others that he didn't. He was glad more people were arriving, the fight seemed a lot less hopeless than he had previously thought.
Last edited by Connal Reid on Wed Aug 08, 2012 10:03 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Connal Reid - RED Pyro
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Re: With Friends Like These ((Kitchen))

Postby Connal Reid » Sun Jul 29, 2012 9:12 pm

Eugene Jefferson wrote:Gene knew he had forgotten something today. The notice had been posted yesterday - hardly enough time for him to do something special for the occasion. But he managed something anyway. An introduction like this reminded Gene of meeting the neighbors and you always brought food to such an occasion.

So he brushed past everyone present and went to the fridge, amazed that his hard work had been left untouched. Then again, he'd wrapped it in three layers of foil and left a note saying: 'Not to be disturbed; highly volatile'. Gene lifted the rectangle of supposedly dangerous materials out of the fridge and plopped it down on the table. Starting from the corner, he removed the foil layer by layer. While he did so, he greeted the others, "Howdy, folks. My name's Gene and I'll be yer Engineer."

Finally, he removed the last layer of foil and revealed a cake. "You'd be amazed what ya find 'round here if ya look hard enough. Lemme go grab some plates and we can all chat."


Elias Saaresto wrote:When the tall imposing figure introduced himself, some of the initial surprise faded. Elias saw a gentle giant quickly replace his first impression. "Pleasure. Everyone may kall me Kettu." Force of habit dictated that he stick to his alias. Elias had little intention of ever giving out his legal name. There were many things one could do with that.

Elias's attention shifted to Will the Sniper. He sensed an air of familiarity - not because he knew the man personally, but because the Sniper had a feel for things. At least they had an veteran on their team.

"I'm here because I was assigned," Elias said, following up Connal's explanation. He crossed his arms over his chest, adopting a more languid stance. He wondered if standing at attention, ramrod straight, would stifle conversation and he wanted to make his teammates feel at ease.

Upon seeing the newcomer, Elias bowed in greeting. "Yes, sir. It's just de four of us-- Here comes anot'er." He gestured towards the Spy leaning against the wall. Anton might have remained undetected were it not for Elias's alertness. He was still concerned about how the other Spy perceived him, but he would not personal trifles ruin this congregation.

It struck him as odd--No, odd wasn't the right word for it. It occurred to Elias that Riley wasn't present. No doubt the man had good reason to avoid the others; not everyone took kindly to his situation. But what could be done about that?

And before he knew it, suddenly there was an Engineer at the table with a cake. Elias stared at the sugary treat. He wouldn't take any for himself, but he was sure the others would like it. "Oh. T'ank you for t'is.


Yuri Vanavitch Karloff wrote:Yuri couldn't help but smile. He was nervous that his entrence would have closed these men off, but it seemed that they were rather willing to talk about themselves. The sniper hadn't been much for words, though it seemed to him that the quiet type suited the man. A single sentence, a single shot. Yuri had no doubt this man was good at what he did.

When the pyro spoke, he nodded, listening, though taking more in from the way he acted. He paused halfway through his short introduction to hezitate. Yuri could tell by the look in his eyes that he was hiding something, that he had something he was ashamed of. What it was didn't seem that bad though, because the change was slight. Yuri nodded, and turned to the third man to hear his story.

It was quick. Concise, nothing more than what was needed. Yuri could tell by the way this man's name rolled off his tongue that it wasn't his own, but the heavy wouldn't press the issue. Better to listen and have them think your an idiot than to open your mouth and remove all doubt. He nodded yet again, and was adjusting himself in his seat when a short man in a lab coat stormed into the room.

Yuri looked the man up and down as he himself was studied in a sight that was so sharp it very well could have left marks. Yuri's schedule had included a quick description of each of his teammates, and he could tell who this one was. Quickly, Yuri stood up and held his hand out to shake his leader's hand, "Così, si sono Tom, l'uomo il responsabile?" Yuri's pronunciation wasn't the best, but the phrase had been practiced over and over in his mind on the train ride over. But still his accent was heavy on every word. He was trying to make an impression.

Yuri stood there, waiting on his handshake to be either returned or ignored, when he saw out of the corner of his eye another small man wearing the same uniform as 'Kettu', which made Yuri wonder. And before he could try to connect the dots, there was another man, wearing overalls and a yellow helmet, holding some sort of cake. Yuri couldn't think to connect the dots. This was confusing. As far as he knew, the three in the kitchen had been sitting around grabbing a snack after breakfast.

Yuri blinked a couple of times, still holding his hand out to shake Tom's, and managed to conclude, "Is this some sort of meeting? Sorry, I was late arriving..."


Connal Reid wrote:He wasn't sure if it was because he had just met Yuri and skewed his perception or not, but the next man that came in seemed, well... short. That impression seemed to melt away, however, when Connal caught the look in his eye. Most people would call it cold, but he saw it as a kind of quiet rage, and he tried not to fidget like a guilty child. If the coat were any indication, he was probably a Medic. He would definitely have to be careful not to make this guy mad.

Then Kettu spoke, and the Pyro looked up. "Hey, Anton," he greeted, giving a small wave. For a week, that had been the only teammate he knew, and he hadn't even seen him since they met. Maybe he hadn't left a very good impression.

Yuri then started saying something in another language, drawing the fire starter's attention. Before he could question it, however, there was a man wearing a hardhat in front of him. Connal tilted his head at the rectangle of foil. Gene, huh? What could be in there that needed so many layers of- Oh. Oh wow. "Cool! Thanks, Gene." He instantly decided that he liked this guy.


William Akhurst wrote:They just seemed to pile in at once now. Perhaps they came in as a group or it was just lucky timing. Will leaned closer to his table, propping an elbow up on it and resting his chin in his hand. Watching each one enter he was hit with nostalgia. 'Noice to see the Uniforms haven't changed much,' he thought with a silent laugh. Like Connal, a few were in their civvies, but the others... Oh he new a Spy's suit when he saw it. They all were a friendly looking bunch-but by friendly he meant none of them started spewing curse words and damning one another to Hell. Yes, so far, everything was going pretty damn well.

Of course, that being thought, his eyes glanced to the Medic who seemed to be... A bit of a temperamental man. But he chalked it up to first impressions. Lousy things those were.

He didn't really show much interest in moving until he saw a familiar man in helmet that made the corner of his mouth quirk up. The Engineer wandered about like he new exactly where he was going, which reminded Will to ask the man if he had a map of the place. But it was soon pushed aside when cake was presented. Now, Will wasn't a man of sweets, but he knew war. And food like this wasn't going to come by very often. It always started out great and comfy. When Gene was handing out plates, Will shifted to stand, coming over to grab himself one.

"I'll be takin' one, if ya don't mind. Thank ya." As soon as a spare piece of cake was set onto a plate Will snatched it up. "Was wonderin' if you were gonna show or not," he said softly as he leaned in to grab his share. "Glad I didn't have to go find ya. Would've gotten bloody lost."


Tom Cucinotta wrote:Glancing around in mild surprise, the Italian took in the sight of a few more team members appearing. Well, he sure as hell wasn’t late anymore, was he? But then-Tom’s eyes flickered up and his head tilted back a bit. This man really was huge, wasn’t he? A twinge of envy prickled at the Medic’s mind, but it was quickly filled by the other’s words. That firm line that was his mouth turned into a gentler, twitch of a smile. “Così si parla la mia lingua, sì?” He murmured, and took the other’s hand, his own dwarfed in size. But it was a warm, squeezing handshake. “Very good. I slip into it now and then without realizing it. It’s nice to have someone who will be able to understand me, at least.” A chuckle followed this, and after a strong shake, the Medic let go, turning to his other teammates.

The cake finally caught his attention, as did their Engineer. And-another Spy? So they had two, then. Goodness. He really needed to keep up with the paperwork. That or it was coming in late. Regardless he felt a soft grin appearing on his lips. Though his stance remained stiff and cold. “ah-yes. A meeting for all of us. A sort of.. get together? Si, something like that.” He added, glancing back to Yuri. Tom himself wasn’t a man of sweets, and made no movement towards the cake. Rather, after a few more moments of standing, he briskly walked to the table where Will was sitting at, and seating himself there, leaning forward a bit. “My goodness. I remember when it was just me and Anton, and now you’re all here..”


Riley O'Neil wrote:Approaching footsteps made Riley turn sharply and he tensed at the sight of another RED Spy strolling toward the mess hall. Every muscle in his body readied itself to run when the Spy screamed bloody murder and came at him with a knife. His anxiety did not ease even as he was spared a glance and ignored; no mention of him, however, was made in the new few minutes.

Still on edge by the sudden scare, he forced his attention back to counting the number of people in the room. It was a mix of accents but he recognized Gene, Tom, and Kettu's... Along with three other voices he didn't know though he heard an Aussie accent amongst the chatter. So, seven people altogether, including the silent Spy. Christ. He wasn't sure he could handle a group that size, especially not with Tom there.

As greetings were exchanged, he began to feel rather isolated, hiding out in the corridor and Tom's mention of an 'Anton' and him being the first to the base made something in him twitch with agitation. He was a part of the team whether or not Tom acknowledged him. Riley had planned on attending every battle and doing his damn job even if he couldn't convince Tom that he would. Maybe, with Kettu and Gene there, this wouldn't be so bad. He just had to keep telling himself that or he'd never go in.

Gathering up his courage, he made to enter the room was silently and with as much stealth as possible.


Anton Markovic wrote:He giving a brief dip of the head towards Connal, he settled himself against the wall, finding a place where his bony shoulders and back wouldn't dig into the wood to bad.

He watched as people greeted each other, a little surprised when suddenly a cake had been pulled out of the fridge and plates began to be passed out. The thought of food turned his stomach, especially something so sweet, so he decided to sit back and observe rather than partake in the dessert.

Everyone seemed to be getting along pretty well, or so it seemed. The croc-person entering the room caught his eye. He wondered if the relative peace of the kitchen was about to end, given the last time he saw him, it was in the middle of a fist fight between him and their leader.


Eugene Jefferson wrote:Gene returned to the table and began slicing up the cake. First slice went to Connal of course, to whom he said, "Yer welcome. Who else wants some?" He turned to Will and grinned. "Sure thing, pardner. There's plenty to go around."

He smiled and shook his head. "Sorry I'm late. Or on time as it seems to be. I was workin' on somethin'. Should I draw up a map for ya?"

Ignoring the fact that Tom hadn't gotten any cake for himself, Gene placed a slice down in front of him. "Don't be shy about it." Then before the man could argue, Gene walked back to the cake, ready to force more sugary goodness on his team.

The Engineer noticed Riley slinking around and gave a slight nod. He put aside a piece just for the gator-Sniper. Everyone deserved one, and if Tom had an issue with it, well, he wasn't the one who had baked the cake. That's right. Gene had full cake dispersion jurisdiction.


Elias Saaresto wrote:Oh dear. Riley wasn't the most subtle of folks was he? The tail certainly didn't help. Elias spared him a glance before looking away, hoping no one would follow his gaze. He shouldn't have looked and given away his comrade's position. He'd have to be more careful about that once the fighting commenced.

Small talk. Elias couldn't do it. He glanced at his comrades and wondered who'd be the easiest to converse with without making a fool out of himself.


Yuri Vanavitch Karloff wrote:Yuri dropped his sad attempt at Italian, trying not to embarrassing himself as he said, "My Italian is not perfect, but I can understand more than I can say." Yuri smiled to all of those around him, happy to see that the team was bigger than he thought. It seemed that he wouldn't be wandering into the fray of battle alone. Yuri took one of the forks from the table, spinning it quickly on the flat of his palm before catching it again between his forefinger and thumb. With his other hand, he took up a plate using only two fingers. He nodded at the engineer, before taking a bite of the cake.

The cake wasn't the best, but it was far from the worst. Quickly he ate the slice, trying to eat as quietly as he could, but the cake doing it's best to stick in the corners of his mouth. With a smile, he set the plate down, and took his stool back. He wanted to know what brought the others here.


Connal Reid wrote:This was pretty cool. His team was a good deal larger and more diverse than he had thought. And one of them could even bake. Pretty well, too, the cake wasn't half bad. Connal looked around the room again, and noticed someone else walking in. Someone with... scales? And a tail? What a weird costume...

Cake, people, costume... It was starting to feel almost like a party. Parties needed music. Maybe he wold go get his boombox, once he finished his slice. Even if not everyone had the same taste in music as the Pyro, there was an antenna on it. They could try to find a radio station to agree on. Then again, he'd heard stories from others that had visited the south, and claimed there was nothing on the airwaves aside from church stuff and country music...


William Akhurst wrote:"It'd be moighty nice of ya if you could, mate." He flashed Gene a quick smile before stepping back from the others to reclaim his two chairs. Sitting in one and kicking his leg up on the other. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying their pieces-well, those who are actually taking one. He sank the little plastic fork into his piece, neatly cutting the tip off before taking the first bite.

He tried to make a face as sugary icing glazed his taste buds, but once they grew used to it, he could honestly say that he liked it. Sure, he wasn't one for sweets, but the sugary dessert was actually welcomed. Hell, it might even keep him awake longer now. Pros in place, William gave a hum of approval, giving the Engineer a thumbs up before continuing to dig it. "Roight good job ya did here."

Munching happily, he was almost tempted to ask if they had any milk to wash this thick taste down. He tipped his hat back with the clean edge of his fork before his eyes caught the sight of slow movement from the corner of his eye. He normally wouldn't have given it a second glance because everyone was moving and getting comfortable, but it was the long trailing scarf that dragged along the ground that had him--Wait a bloody minute. His eyes narrowed as he peered closer, leaning a bit in his chair forward to take closer account. Then, he immediately looked around, wondering if there was something in this cake. Did anyone else see this?


Tom Cucinotta wrote:The Italian raised an eyebrow at Gene, and then shook his head with a soft laugh. “Signore, as.. sweet as it is, I do not need to-“ He cut off for a moment, blinking as he raised his head, catching sight of something-someone-that shouldn’t be there. For a moment, the Medic was deadly silent. Then he bristled, much like a territorial cat would. Bright blue eyes narrowed, and his mouth went into a firm frown. He hadn’t even stood up yet-he was simply staring Riley down, as if trying to intimidate him. But then those blue eyes glanced around the room, and Tom stood. He didn’t say anything as he walked towards the partially-human creature, a heavy hand coming up to squeeze Riley’s shoulder rather tightly. Tom was turning the taller RED and guiding him out, his face taunt.

Once the Sniper was near the doorway again, the Leader of RED leaned close to the other man, his voice a deep growl as he murmured in the others’ ear,
“You do not belong here.”

Then Riley was released, the Medic walking back to his seat silently as if it was nothing. He was wordless, his face almost having a bored expression as he went at Gene’s cake with a fork, tasting it and trying to get used to the overly-sweet feeling on the tip of his tongue.


Riley O'Neil wrote:It was Gene and then Elias that saw him first and Riley relaxed, only slightly as neither of them made any indication to his unusual appearance. It was a good sign. His shoulder tensed again as the unfamiliar teammates saw him, making him squeeze the tail tight, trying to find semblance of comfort in the gesture. So far, so good... Now as long as the other Sniper didn't scream or exclaim loudly, he might be able to make his way over to Elias and to safety—

Then Tom was suddenly upon him, a hand gripping his shoulder tightly and leading him over to the door. Riley almost resisted, shifting to dig his claws into the floor but his nerves gave out and there was no resistance. He felt foolish, thinking he could stroll in without attracting Tom's attention. It was only the second time the Medic had gotten his hands on him, this one lacking violence, but it made him quiver in barely contained fear.

Once released, he stood in the doorway, tail now dropped to the floor and curling around his ankles. Should he stay or go? The internal struggle made him feel like he was being pulled apart at the seams and he simply did...nothing. Just stood there in the doorway with his back turned, shaking like a wet dog.
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Re: With Friends Like These ((Kitchen))

Postby Connal Reid » Sun Jul 29, 2012 9:20 pm

Anton Markovic wrote:Shoving his hand into his pocket, he fished around inside for a loose cigarette and his lighter. Lighting it up and shoving the lighter back into his pocket, he glanced up just in time to catch Tom 'escort' the newcomer out. He watched warily, not moving from his spot, but quietly moving his hand towards where he kept his gun.

He took a long drag. It was good that more people were showing up now, even if they were....odd. Not that he was much to talk. But people were people, and there was power in numbers.


Eugene Jefferson wrote:"Thanks, Will. I'm glad ya like it. I always figured that the best part about cookin' was sharin'." To be honest, Gene hadn't been expecting any compliments about his cake. Baking as he had been taught was a woman's job (not that he had clung onto the idea.) The only reason he knew how to bake was because his siblings had had enormous sweet tooths, and they pleaded for him to do something about it; Ma was always so busy just trying to keep things in order.

Gene turned to Tom and waved him off. "Nonsense, just try it--" He cut himself off, following Tom's gaze. This could only end poorly.

A silent observer, the Engineer let out a sigh as their team leader ran Riley out of the room. "So what'd he do to piss ya off?" He doubted that Tom needed a reason aside from Riley's appearance, but it never hurt to ask.


Elias Saaresto wrote:Quick as a fox, Elias darted out of the room after the heated (and one-sided, mind you) argument between Medic and Sniper. He insisted to himself that he held no bias towards either parties, and his reason for chasing after the crocodile-man was because he was in uniform - and therefore a member of the team. Unlike Tom, Elias wasn't choosy about where they got their help from. He had no reason to exclude Riley yet and sincerely hoped that this nonsense was beneath them all. He had no time to babysit and mediate these petty quarrels.

The Spy came with a plate of cake. He made the long way around the door and into the hallway, thus if Tom wanted to argue, he'd have to go through Riley first in order to reach Elias. "T'at was rat'er embarrassing. I'm sorry you have to endure t'is sort of treatment. --I, myself, have yet to decide your worth." Despite the weighty words, Elias offered the cake without condition.


Yuri Vanavitch Karloff wrote:Yuri was about to turn back to Tom to continue his conversation with the man, when he noticed that the medic was growling down the throat of a small sniper, similar in dress to the sniper william, but with some rough patches of skin in certain places. He wondered if this man had some sort of severe case of Human Papilloma Virus, but when he saw the tail, he realized there must have been some sort of accident, and he was part crocodile. But that gave the medic no reason to be so angry.

Walking past Tom with a scornful look, he turned his attention to the sniperdile, leaning down to look the young man into the yes, and saw that he wanted nothing but to get out of there. Placing a calming hand on his shoulder, he said, "Is everything alright? What cause has Docktor to talk to you such?"


Connal Reid wrote:Well... That was... weird. Connal simply watched as the general mood seemed to take a turn. What had costume guy done to tick off the older guy so much? It didn't look like he had to get up, however, as Kettu and Yuri already went after him. Strange that there seemed to be such a fuss already.

Not one to draw attention to himself when others seemed ready to snap back, the redhead just continued to eat his cake. Besides, everyone else was already asking all the questions he could have thought to ask. It was probably safest to just see how things went from here.


William Akhurst wrote:To be blunt, at least he wasn't the first and only person to notice the odd male in the room. From body language alone the other seemed to be in a right sorry state; shoulders hunched, arms close to his body....tail curled around his legs. Poor bloke. But Will made no move to stand and comfort the other Sniper after Tom's tirade. There seemed to be plenty others willing to do so. If he came across the bloke in passing after this, he'd share his condolences. Will wasn't the type to cause a scene without purpose. And he didn't know where the Medic and Sniper's little ordeal began. So how could he tell who was in the wrong?

From under the brim of his hat he watched, chewing up cake that lit his taste buds aflame with sugar. Once only crumbs were left on his plate he left the tip of the plastic fork in his mouth, the utensil bobbing slowly as he took a look around. Seemed like everyone had turned into clams and shut up after Tom's words. Piss. Now this was just awkward.


Tom Cucinotta wrote:Tom was silent at first, frowning as he pulled his fork out of his mouth. Then he glanced over at the RED Engineer, a flat expression on his face. “I don’t allow mostros on my team, Signore.” The man said simply, taking another bite out of his slice of cake. But then-he saw members of his team moving, and turned his head to glance at them. They were.. going to console the beast. Tom’s jaw set, and he twitched angrily. They should know better, shouldn’t they? He was going to have to remind them-although, something make him decide not to speak. Rather, he turned away with a huff. He would not leave. He was the one in charge here-and he would rather be damned then to have himself leave because a little monster made him feel uncomfortable.


Riley O'Neil wrote:Kettu hurrying after him- with cake in hand too- made Riley wonder if he was dreaming. Being defended by at least one of his teammates was almost too good to be true and he took the cake with a hint of skepticism in his gaze. Kettu's words were right though the whole things still felt...unreal. "...Thanks, mate." Holding the possibly imaginary pastry in his hand Riley nearly jumped out of his skin as a man much larger then he was clapped a hand on his shoulder and looked him purposefully in the eye. Riley's immediate reaction was o avert his gaze, gripping his plate tight but smiling forcibly nonetheless.

"...Long story," he supplied, trying to ease out the massive man's grip and out into the hallway. Tom's word stopped him and he turned, frowning at the Italian. He didn't speak a lick of the language but he sure as hell could guess what 'mostros' meant. "...Oi'm a Snoiper first, m-mate." Swallow to prevent another stuttering fit he walked back into the room and took a seat at the closet table, staring down at the table, waiting for an explosive reaction.


Anton Markovic wrote:WHat were they doing? Were they actually going to try to help the thing that Tom had just made clear would not be welcome here. He knew they had little choice on who they were given as teammates, but to so obviously go against their leader?

His brow furrowed minutly, breathing out a cloud of smoke, watching the croc-person go and sit down. They were all just asking for trouble. He shifted so he was a little more balanced on his feet, preparing himself in case something happened.


And then nobody else posted anything and I was a sad panda.
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