Let the helmet party never end.

sage goes in the email field
you bloody mongrel

THE AGONY. WHY WOULD I BETRAY MYSELF BY NOT SAGE-ING. Is sageing even a verb? Probably not.

oh god.. I LOVE YOU FOR THIS!

Jesus Christ, you imbecile.
Totally ignoring the latest posts and conveniently forgetting to sage...
You guys are doing this on purpose, aren't you?

The engineer wrangled the soldier through an unlocked maintenance door and into a boiler room, which was dimly lit with a few humming yellow bulbs in key corners of the room.

“Five minutes, huh?” The soldier huffed, grinning ferally at him. “Last night I had you crying for your mama in less than two!”

“Yep.” The engineer couldn't deny that. “Ah reckon you know your way around a regulation fuck, don't ya.” He gave the soldier a stern push inside, then turned briefly to lock the door behind them.

“Of course I do! If you didn't SKIP THE DRAFT you would also understand how to execute the standard regulation fuck!” the soldier spun around and raised his voice only to be shoved back against a wall.

“Dumber than dog shit, ain't ya?” The engineer chuckled as he pressed his weight on the other man's shoulders with both hands.

“YOU ARE WAY OUT OF LINE, PRIVATE COWBOY!!” The soldier glowered back at him, his face now glowing red. “Back when I was in the s... service... we...” the soldier's voice trailed off as the engineer moved in and gave him a peck on the cheek, then another on the neck while his hands started sneaking down the front of his body. His shirt was sopping wet from his sweating, but the engineer didn't care – he had worked himself into a stupor and fought this man down for what felt like hours for this. He rested his head on one of those wide shoulders for a moment, watching the soldier watch him – his eyes followed the engineer's hand down, then he leaned his head back against the wall and fixed his gaze at the ceiling as soon as he noticed that he was being watched.

“We knew where the line was ... and...” The soldier seemed to be more confused than anything else. But the engineer was certain that if the soldier didn't want this to happen, there was no doubt in his mind that he would have torn free and beaten him to within an inch of his life by now. He had faith in his own knots, but he didn't exactly see the soldier struggling any more either. He kept moving his hands down the soldier's front, groping that thick leathery musculature the whole way. The soldier's lecture had fallen silent, but the sound of his breathing was still heavy in the engineer's ears. He was just on the cusp of letting out more, but the engineer wanted it now. He yanked that wet t-shirt out from being tucked under the soldier's belt and pulled it up past his ribs and was forced to leave it bunched just under the soldier's bound arms. Once exposed, the soldier sucked in a lungfull of air for the sudden contact with the cool air.

The soldier's bare chest and stomach had a deceptively soft look to them in this flat yellow lighting; his collar bones and his sternum were like concrete just below the surface of his damp skin, which was now contracting in reaction to this exposure. The engineer instinctively hugged the soldier snugly, wrapping one arm around his taught middle and pressing the better half of his upper body into his chest, which by now was heaving from his nervous breathing. The soldier's fiberous pecs felt like a fine leather couch to the engineer, and so he nestled into it, loosing himself in the feel of the soldier's shuddering anatomy.

He started his free hand down that path of soft dark hairs along the expanse of the soldier's belly again; he couldn't see that nervously twitching six pack for that layer of insulating fat, but he could certainly feel it just under the surface. The engineer wanted to just dive right down into the soldier's pants, but that belt needed to be loosened first, and jamming his relatively cold hands down upon the man's delicates would be too much of a shock besides. The answer – build up some friction first thing; the engineer's hand skipped down a bit and started working its way back up along the soldier's inside leg.

The hard outline of the soldier's legs trembled under the rough fabric of his slacks. His body was hard all over thanks to his constant activity and compulsive workout routine, but he was still vulnerable to this kind of gentle teasing. Especially around that soft region between his legs; the soldier's package seemed to fit right in the palm of the engineer's wandering hand and started pulsing under the pressure.

“Gahh..!” The soldier grimaced, but practically melted into the engineer's hands. His torso arched outward and he became weak in the knees as the shorter man steadily kneaded his crotch through his pants. The engineer reached his other arm further around the soldier's waist and, just for good measure, he took a firm grip on his buttocks. That was almost enough by itself; the engineer knew how tight the soldier was and feeling the man's muscles tense in surprise under the grip of his hand made him think even harder about how it would feel if he let him have more.

“You like that, huh?” He mused and continued to stroke the soldier's steadily rising arousal, all the while listening to his pounding heart and that pitiful groan that was finally leaking out of his chest. The resonance could be felt throughout his body.

“I don't know what you're talking about...” The soldier huffed, his shoulders and head still leaning flat against the wall and his eyes fixed angrily up at the ceiling.

“How 'bout this?.” The engineer, glancing upward, knew that the soldier was lying through his teeth, and took it as a challenge. He took a moment to unzip the soldier's fly, and then shoved his hand right in.

“DAA!” The soldier yelped and bucked involuntarily at the skin contact. His whole body stiffened in surprise, but relaxed as the engineer started up again. “DAMMIT...Christ almighty... as soon as I can get out of this...”

“You ain't getting' outta this one.” The engineer grinned. “Not till Ah'm done with ya.” He gave the soldier's erection a good squeeze, causing it to pulse back even harder and start issuing some pre-cum. “An' by then you won't be in any shape to do much about it, soldier boy. That is – if you can even last that long...”

The soldier winced and almost collapsed as blood rushed out of his head. “Give me your best shot, MAGGOT!” He growled and tried to shake it off. “You'll never outlast me! Not in a million ye—ahhh... hahhh! What are you doing back there?!”

“Easy now. If you keep squirmin, Ah might have to bend you over!” The engineer had moved his other hand down between the soldier's glutes and was now messaging him through the seat of his pants. It was such a warm, snug spot back there. “Hell, since Ah got you all tied up, Ah might just do that anyway...” He paused to start unbuckling the soldier's belt.

“Oh you're really in for it now! I will come down on you with the force of a -”

“Shut up.” the engineer pulled the soldier's pants down to his knees, then popped off the straps of his coveralls. “You don't want me to have to stick my cock in your mouth now, do ya?”

“Go ahead and try it!” the soldier gnashed his teeth. The engineer paused, now having seconds thoughts at the sight of them.

“Ah don't care too much for your tone, mister.” the engineer saved his position and grabbed the soldier's upper arms and spun him around. “Ah was gonna go easy on you, but you ain't givin' me much option.” he pushed him flat against the wall.

“Don't even TRY to get my hopes up, you sniveling fruit basket!” The soldier spat back at him. “Your ass will have to be escorted from the bank for writing THAT check! You are pathetic!” He was still showing his war face. It didn't matter if he actually was tired, or angry, or scared. He would keep this up until he literally had nothing left. That was his way; give in and you die, hesitate and you die, show any shred of emotion outside of hatred and you die. His body was rock hard and his mind was even harder. It was probably for the best that they hadn't learned one another's names, and yet the engineer wanted every part of this man. Here he was, pressed against the wall and presenting himself – his hands tied behind his back, clenched in a pair of white-knuckled fists and the bare skin on his perfectly toned back, buttocks and legs beckoning him. But he was still fighting him and demanding nothing less than the most severe punishment for his unbecoming position of surender. It dawned on the engineer that he really had his work cut out for him; he now had to give this man the hardest pounding he could give, just to ensure his fevered ego the satisfaction of having fought his hardest to prevent it.

The engineer spread both hands around either side of the soldier's hips and suddenly found himself gawking at his scarred back again. His body was so solid and durable only because of how much hurt had been hammered into it. The weight of the engineer's tool belt pulled this pants down quickly, slamming into the concrete with a thud and a clank, but he hesitated. That nagging guilt tugged at him, and he began to hate himself again for pulling the soldier down like this – what he thought was a genuine concern for the man's well-being seemed like just another flimsy justification to what most outside observers would amount to rape. The rape of an exhausted and incapacitated veteran to top it all off.

“TODAY MAGGOT! DO I HAVE TO COME BACK THERE AND SHOW YOU HOW IT'S DONE?!” The soldier demanded.

“HELL NO!!” the engineer matched the soldier's volume, slipped off his insulated glove and whipped the soldier hard across the back with it.

The soldier cried out in pain and nearly folded. The engineer's heart skipped a beat, but he couldn't back down now.

“Ah know exactly what the hell Ah'm doin', ya dumb jarhead!” he hit him again, this time across the buttocks. “You got that?!”

The soldier jerked himself away at the stinging impact, but put himself back and readied for another like a good soldier would.

“Y-Yes SIR!” The soldier shouted back, possibly to have that pained scream come out as forceful and manly words intstead.

“Now, do you wanna get fucked fast, or do ya wanna get fucked right?!” the engineer kept his volume up, trying his damnedest to keep his voice steady. Then he waited for the soldier to reply. The soldier only struggled to catch his breath and stay on his feet; leaning heavily on the wall by his chest and the side of his head, and his whole face still red and clenched in pain. Then finally, he cleared his throat, swallowed, and opened his eyes, although he didn't look at the engineer's face, so much as downward in his general direction.

“I want to get fucked right, sir.” his voice came out quiet and halting slightly from his exhaustion.

“What was that?” the engineer didn't believe his ears.

“SIR.” The soldier said louder and much steadier than before. “I said I would like to get fucked right, sir.” that sentence followed by a relenting snort.

“That's what the hell Ah thought!” The engineer gave the soldier another satisfactory slap across the ass, to keep up his control, but also to cover the choking in his throat. The soldier only grunted from the sting this time, having been expecting it.

“Now juss relax an' let me do that for ya, ya hear?” It took a lot for the engineer to keep himself from crying and he couldn't quite place the reason why. He threw down his glove and regained his firm two-handed grip on the soldier's hips and positioned him manually without giving himself the chance to clear his head.

“Yes, sir.” The soldier looked away, all expression fading from his face.

The engineer took a moment to peel off his shirt and throw it down, then pull down his briefs just enough. He thought that that scare had effectively killed his erection, but it was still there, strangley enough. No sense in wasting time thinking; he grabbed the soldier's red hams in both hands and thrust himself between them. The soldier groaned under him, but did not cry out. His entire body clenched and shook from the pain and the shock of it, but he pushed back against the engineer as he started picking up a rythmic thrusting. His bound hands opened and reached pleadingly, though still pinned to his back. Those baby blues darted from the floor, up to the engineer's face, then away again as soon as contact was made. He was strangely free from anger, but still glinting that wild, fearful and hungry look.

“You're alright, soldier.” The engineer smiled and kept pumping in and out of him. The soldier responded with a quiet hiss and bit his lip to a gentle rub on his lower back where that red mark was now starting to rise up a little, but he was still shaking violently. “It's only me.” Eventually the engineer let the soldier have one of his hands, trying to console himself for having unwittingly hit him so hard so many times.

“Thank you, sir.” The soldier grabbed and held on tightly as soon as the engineer's fingers were interlocked with his. His eyes started welling up and so he turned away and clenched them shut immediately.

“Aw, don't start cryin' on me now!” the engineer almost lost control again, but he couldn't let himself falter now. He leaned forward and wrapped his free hand around the soldier as tightly as he could.

“Understood, sir.” The soldier choked, but tried to shake it off. He was unsuccessful in that although he was not actually crying, he couldn't stop the tears from running.

“Buck up, soldier! You're killin' me, now!” The engineer understood that he was trying, and that just made it that much more emotional for him. He wanted to stop and just hold him, but the soldier undoubtedly would not let him live it down if he did. Especially after all the promising threats he made to the man. So he pushed himself into the soldier as far as he could and paused, hoping that the swelling sensation of this union would distract them from all that emotional baggage.

“Guhhh... YES SIR!” The soldier obviously had never been penetrated so deeply before; he gaped and froze, but then snarled back with a strange, but distinctly masculine resolve. The engineer lost himself in the heat and the compression of his body; he didn't have to hear the man's heartbeat or his voice when he could now feel it coursing through him. He felt the soldier's inner world as well as his inner workings; he hugged the soldier tightly, chasing away any fears that were left. It was the kind of intimacy that the engineer had been aching for all day – maybe even longer.

“That's more like it!” He flopped his head down on the soldier's back and absently moved his pelvis a few times in him, each time getting whimpers that eventually turned into deep moans as he started palming his belly, then his very rigid and dripping erection. He then, after some effort, yanked his hand out of the soldier's grip and threw it around him. The soldier instinctively tried to tear free of his restraints and grab the engineer back, but eventually tired and succumbed to some helpless squirming as the engineer cupped his balls and slowly spread that slippery pre-cum along the length of his penis, causing it to throb and twitch.

The engineer had already resolved to hold himself off until after he had finished the soldier, but the way that the soldier's body was pleading him was too much. Without the use of his arms, the soldier was now forced to do no more than take what the engineer had to give; he swayed his back for him and he kept trying to twist around and put his arms around him, but couldn't. His angry grunts and groans were now starting to sound more and more like the hungry whines of an animal, then grew more ecstatic as the engineer's hands elevated him. He lowered his upper half, bending into the engineer and picking up some enthusiastic thrusting of his own. The feeling was so intense that the engineer didn't even want to know if he had already gone off in the soldier until he had successfully finished the job on him. He kept working his hands until the soldier's pelvis abrubtly shot forward in a few powerful final thrusts and he shouted something unintelligable at the wall. The engineer's body twitched a few times in the aftermath of the soldier's climax, having already been emptied, but still getting a second little blank load in. It was almost painful to pull out.

“That'll do, soldier.” The engineer stood up straight and gave a sloppy salute, but immediately had to steady himself on the soldier, who was now silent and leaning flat on the wall. He patted him on the shoulder, well aware that he was out – even drooling a little this time. “Shoot... burned to the wick...” the engineer wiped the sweat from his brow and let himself have a moment of pride in his work. Then he started pulling his pants up, knowing that at some point, he was going to have to defend himself.

“Thankyou sir, may I have another, sir...” the soldier snorted, still apparently unconcious.

“Ah juss don't know which of us is worse, mister; me for fuckin' ya or you fer likin' it!” the engineer smiled and shook his head. He couldn't stand looking at the soldier like this, so with a pained grunt, the the engineer bent down and pulled up the soldier's pants to preserve what little dignity he had left.

“You're the one who's hovering, Sally!” The soldier woke up at some point during the dressing process and was now looking the engineer straight in the face while he was adjusting his belt at his waist.

“Ya know, Ah was gonna cut you loose juss now, but if that's the way it's gonna be, Ah reckon Ah'm havin' some second thoughts, mister.”

“WELL La dee DA! … I'm sorry, please untie me.”

All of my happy day! heh, That last line made me snort a little. The dynamics between these two are just so in character and crazy good!

This update...made me cry. It was so good. Keep up the awesome work.

I love this... Even if I found it hard to follow sometimes since English it's not my first language, I love the characterizations, the pace of the story, and all the details.
(I hope I'm saging correctly) I'd love to see more chapters of this. Thanks for sharing!

You really have a talent for writing (and drawing). ;) This is very well written, and I like how the story progresses. Nothing is too sudden or out of place... except, I do believe, and prefer, more Soldier dominance.

I just believe this fits Soldier a lot better than it does Engie, but I'm not saying rule it out completely! Hell, it's your story, so you do what you want with it! XD I'm just saying is all. Keep up the good work.

Dammit, I love this story. It's so funny I laugh out loud at times, and at other times it's so serious as to tug at my atrophied heartstrings. And it's so very hot.

I love this story, but you need a proof reader. (I'd volunteer if I wasn't having such a hard time with my studies.) "Cloitus" cracked me up, though.

I can only hope this series continues, or that it has continued somewhere else. Expertly written so far.

Please sage when posting to a thread that has been inactive for a month.
It leaves readers expecting to see more content and is a big let down.

You can sage by typing "sage" in the email box

This is the most beautiful clusterfuck I've ever read about in my life. You've really brought out the charm in the characters you portray, turning their rather jarring personalities into a real asset. You've even made the Soldier seem adorably insane.

That said, 34 is right about the proof reader. I would add that you need somebody who can not only scan your fic for surface errors, but spot your ideas as they come up and press you to develop them. There are a lot of instances in this fic where you pick up a nifty thread [such as the Medic's devices on Heavy, the unveiling of Pyro, or the sentry's burgeoning free will] but don't follow throw with. It's quite the disappointment for us readers, since a lot of the potential subplots that you're missing are really, agonisingly interesting. You're teasing us!
Still, it's a great read. Very funny, energetic, and strangely heart-warming.

I really want this series to continue. Really really bad.
I read this like two freakin days ago and its still on my mind.
The thought of the two pop up in my brain at the most random of moments. My brain is full of fuck. To the goddamn brim.

Ok, so I'm the same anon that posted that pathetic shit up there. ^
Soanyways, i scoured the fucking internet and found this piece on the guys tumblr, and apparently he is piss angry at tf2chan so he stopped posting. This is the last part he wrote.
--

“One thing at a time.” The engineer tugged the two ends of the soldier’s belt together, but found that he couldn’t see what he was doing very well. “Stand up straight, will ya?”

“Roger.” The soldier straightened and even backed away from the wall so that the engineer could fasten his belt for him. As soon as he was done, the taller man pivoted around so that he could untie his arms.

Once the knots were loose enough, the soldier pulled his arms away in a hurry, stretched his neck and back, rubbed his wrists and staggered around for a few seconds trying to regain his bearings. The engineer watched him serenely, but decided to keep his hands to himself, having learned his lesson more than once before. He busied himself brushing off his shirt and wiping sweat off his face with his sleeve in a rushed haze until he heard the soldier’s voice again and looked up.

“Was that satisfactory?” The soldier turned to face the engineer with his back straight and his shoulders back, even with those droopy eyelids and the rasp in his throat he was looking none the worse for wear.

“Yesser.” The engineer smiled and leaned back with his hands resting casually on his hips. “Ah recon you took a hefty weight off me!”

“THEN PULL YOUR PANTS UP AND GET YOUR SORRY ASS BACK OUT THERE, MAGGOT!!” The soldier shouted and nearly winded himself in the process.

“Y-YES sir!” the engineer yelped in suprise and quickly bent down without a second thought. He had gotten his breifs back up and hooked his extention cord back to his belt, but had forgotten completely about strapping his overalls back up.

“Cover your shame on the double! What kind of operation do you think we’re running here, private cowboy?!”

“Ah beg yer pardon.” The engineer chuckled. Then he noticed something himself and grinned even wider. “Oh – speakin’ a which, ya might oughta shut yer barn door before ya git back out on patrol there, mister. Hyuk, Ah know Ah wouldn’t wanna get caught out’n the open like that, Ah tell you what! ”

“…” the soldier took a moment to realize that the engineer was refering to his open fly. And when he did, his face turned beet red. “Don’t patronize me!” he quickly zipped up, trying to subdue heavy breaths through his nose. It appeared to be a struggle to even make his hands move – his whole upper body was limp from the strain. The engineer wanted to move in and help him, but he was certain of backlash if he tried.

“Always a pleasure to be of service.” As soon as he was ready, the soldier abrubtly saluted with a click of his heels. He then spun around and marched for the door, struggled for a few angry seconds with the latch, but was soon outside again. He paused midstep in the open doorway and glared dissapprovingly at the engineer.

“What are you waiting for, private?!” He barked at half volume.

“Don’t strain yerself, Ah’m comin’.” The engineer’s smile faded into a grunt as he started walking. He hadn’t noticed that the whole of his lower body, particularly around the inner thigh was burning with fatique.

“You’re one to talk! You’re wobbling like jello, private cowboy!” The soldier’s steadily rising volume must have been some indication of his recovery. With each hurtful word he seemed to straighten up like a 6 foot wind up toy. “You should be thankful that I took pity and let you have your way with me this time! You’d be lucky to survive a light petting from me!” by now he was standing straight and pointing a boastful thumb into his confidently jutting chest.

“Ah ‘preciate the offer, partner. But Ah reckon I’m done for the night.” The engineer smiled again and palmed the soldier’s shoulder.

“Very well! The next time I see you I expect that you will be fully rested and ready for combat!” The soldier slapped the engineer on the back almost hard enough to knock him over. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must return to my duty!”

“Alrighty then.” The engineer reeled but was able to stabilize himself quickly. By the time he looked back up, the soldier had already marched more than a yard away, set on recovering his equipment and returning to sentry duty. He watched him for a second, pondering why he still felt the need to go after him.

“Hey if you need anything, you just holler, ya hear?” he called out to the soldier’s back.

“Roger that.” The soldier turned back briefly as he donned his helmet.

“Alrighty.” The engineer replied almost out of compulsion. “Ah suppose Ah’ll juss be on mah way then…” He started staggering off on his own, searching haphazardly for a more proper entrance to the compound.

Ahhh yes, it's nice to see an update to this story. Though now I'm REALLY curious as to what happened with the author and why they stopped posting.

Same pathetic anon here,
about a week ago on her/his tumblr he/she said she would continue wrinting, but would only update on her/his tumblr.

And yes. I have been stalking this persons tumblr.
Herr it is but be warned thereslikegoreandshiteverywhereandthedisclaimerisgoatse

http://ya-iz-kgb.tumblr.com/

holy dog shit! I didn't know that anon's cared so much! I'm sorry I keep leaving and coming back and causing unnecessary non-fun! I'll admit I have anger problems and I like to take them out on TF2chan for some odd reason, but lets face it, Tumblr has more annoying cunts per capita than this place, and TF2chan has been nothing but supportive of my fancrap. So I'm gonna keep on updating here too as soon as I have something coherant.

Yeah, we care. I personally don't use the discussions boards so I have no idea what's going on or why. FTWH is one of my favorite stories here, but I've been hesitant to post more because I don't know if asking for more counts as encouraging or nagging.

>>44
Thank you very much KGB. I admit, I've been checking your tumblr fairly often for updates. I found tf2chan and a whole bunch of awesome stuff through a link to this fic so I'm gonna say thank you a bunch.

Okay here's another installment - it will get to sex eventually I promise.

--

Aside from a few errant bullet holes, the base had finally been finished and the crews had gone home. There was now the familiar humming of machinery and flourescant lighting in the halls and the open door of the breakroom announced that Demolition man was being beaten severely by the scout on the foosball table.

The head by now had been redone in the RED company color scheme but only a few of the others had as of yet adorned the lockers with their personal effects. It was barely past eight o-clock but the engineer was completely exhausted. He swung his duffle bag onto the nearest bench and about halfway through undressing he realized that he hadn't eaten anything all day aside from those now imfamous Jolly Pirate Donuts. He supposed that it didn't matter; there were vending machines in the break room and these days he didn't see much of a point in eating a full, cooked meal without company. Not that he was ever so sick with loneliness that he couldn't eat – he just had his hands full of either tools or guns anywhere between seventy to ninety percent of the time. It was just more practical to stick with foods that could be eaten with one hand, and without utensils. The engineer had essentially been subsisting on donuts, sandwiches and beer for most of his working life. There would be a summer barbeque or two of course, but that was only on special occasions.

The showers in these places always seemed to be in minor distrepair – always squeaky and always took at least five minutes for the water's tempurature to rise above freezing. He thought he would be used to it by now, but even with the mental awareness and all the times he tried taking a step back, he was always sprayed and it was always a shock. He shook it off and waited for the cold to run it's course. When he was finally able to, he streched and flexed his aching back and neck under the hot stream of the running shower. He eventually settled into a drooping stance under the water, letting it run down his body, down his legs and wash across the tile towards a drain behind him. He breathed in deep, then back out again.

She was a good woman. He'd known her since highschool, when to prom together, and the two of them picked up right where they left off upon his return from earning his PHD's. He'd been gone for almost a decade, but she had her eyes set on him and she waited for him even though she could have had any fella she wanted in the meantime. He got a job working the big Texas rigs and they got married. He spent a lot of time working; even when he wasn't laying pipe he was in the garage tinkering with something, but she kept a nice home and always had dinner ready for him on those nights when he got there. They made a nice life for themselves and it lasted for eight long, peaceful years. He would work long hours and on the way home stop at the saloon with the boys and she would go shopping and spend hours gabbing with the girls while she got her hair done. It was just like he pictured it would be when he was a kid. Even his buddies from kindergarten had grown into the police and firemen and doctors that they wanted to be and married the girls that they planned to from age 15. They all stayed around to run that little one-stoplight town so their folks could retire and sit out on their porches drinking lemonade and yelling at the neighbor kids. He never got around to fathering kids of his own, but he was planning to as soon as he got all those machines patented and he could afford sending them to school. She wanted a baby so bad she could taste it, but she was a good woman – she understood where he was coming from.

Then an old college aquiantance decided to drop by for an unexpected visit. She took one look at that long haired hippie freak and his nap sack and she turned white as a sheet. But she was a good woman and she asked him in anyway and set a plate for him at the table. They sat down to an awkward supper; he was happy to see him, but furious at the same time. And that blonde fruit was completely oblivious; he opened his big fuckin' mouth like no time had passed. It was heartbreaking having to punch his mouth shut and chase him off his property, but he had to. When he stepped back up onto the porch, she was standing in the doorway, and before he could even say sorry she slapped him as hard as she could. Eight years – the best years of that woman's life down the shitter. He figured that she would eventually find out about him, but he also supposed that she would take it better than she did.

He stayed up all that night on the porch tinkering with a higher caliber prototype just in case that son of a bitch came back.

She tried her damnedest to let it slide and keep up appearances. For another two years they stayed together, but it wasn't the same; he ended up spending more and more nights either working late or at the bar. When he came home, she still had dinner ready but could no longer stand to sleep in the same bed with him anymore. He did the gentlemanly thing and let her be. She wouldn't hold his hand at church anymore, despite his attempts to console her. When they went out to community functions, she ended up endulging in more than her share of the sauce and made a right hot mess of herself more than once. A few of those times she let the secret out, but she was so drunk, that people didn't know what to think. Rumors started to spread. Eventually she summoned up the courage to file for devorce and kick him out of the house. It didn't take more than a day for word to spread all across town. No one said anything to him right out, but he knew something was brewing in the way that they avoided conversation and even eye contact all the sudden. His mother of course couldn't turn him away, but his father never spoke to him again.

That following Sunday the preacher gave a sermon that cut down to the deepest quivering nerve left in the engineer's soul. After that, as if to add insult to injury, kids in the grocery store and the library started blurting out words like SINNER and words that he thought no kid should know, like FAG. Their respective guardians would punish them of course, but he knew that kids most only repeat what they hear. He knew to let sleeping dogs lie.

The other roughnecks made their opinions known to him more overtly; one or two cheap shots in the locker room followed by a massive brawl when he stood up for himself like any man would. He lost his job that day, and he understood, given the amount of damage he caused to company property.

That night in the 'room' in his folks' barn, he took his anger out on those boxes of spare parts and blueprints. He was about to smash the daylights out of hat prototype sentry gun he'd wasted so many months perfecting when he noticed some commotion and ran outside. He ran out and found a mob of white sheets on the lawn right in front of the house with torches and a big flaming cross planted in the middle of it all. He knew he didn't stand a chance with an eight pound wrench being his only weapon for the moment, so he braced himself when they noticed him.

They only stood there and hollered at him to get out of town. Apparently they expected him to heed this kind of warning; a bunch of grown men that up until now had been his co-workers, his neighbors, his best friends, hiding behind sheets and making threats with torches. If this was how real men acted, than he was just fine with being a gay boy.

He walked up and clocked one man out cold with that wrench, then another as they all turned and ran to their cars. He tried chasing after the rest of them, but he couldn't run fast enough to catche them no matter how riled up he was. So he took a deep breath, walked back to the barn, and picked up his pistol. And a few other things.

He kissed his mother good bye, put a bullet in each skull of the men on the lawn, then proceeded to gun down the rest of his attackers one by one. He heard his mother screaming, but saved her any further torture by not looking back. The rest was still a blur.

A bullet screamed very close by the engineer's head and popped his hard hat right off. He reflexively dropped to the ground behind a crate, still clutching that heavy tool chest in his arms. Trying to maneuver his way through enemy territory was probably the worst time for a flash-back.

Headcanon accepted.

I second that.

I don't really mind if it gets to porn soon or not, because it feels more like I'm reading an addictive book but all of the other chapters are scribbled over with crayon.
I JUST WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT.

Aw Thanks!
>>50 what do you mean by 'all of the other chapters are scribbled over with crayon'? Am I missing something?

I think they mean the "scribbled over in crayon" part as the parts you have not written yet.

>>48

>>49

Thirded.

Don't care about sex, just want to know what happens next.
I am at the edge of my seat here!

I agree, i'm addicted to the story so much, but lets not go too far into saying we don't care about the sex.
Because you know we care about the sex.

I've actually noticed this a while ago, but why is the last update in your tumblr different than the one you posted here?

Ah wow... I was doubtful about these two, so I began reading this with hesitation; man, did I pick a hell of a story to start with.
The interactions are just so real and believable. They are at the same time hilariously adorable and heart-wrenching together. I love this story so much I'm shedding tears of joy. I never want it to end.

>>56 Sorry I haven't touched a bunch of things in a long time and didn't realize that there were differences - gonna go do that now while I'm trying to polish this latest update.

He ducked down clumsily, landing on his backside between stacks of wooden crates. With each bullet that slammed into them, searching for his head, the splintering stacks seemed just too short. He scrunched down as small as he could, clutching his toolbox in both arms, catching his breath and waiting for the opportunity to move again. The heat and the noise seemed to be coming from all directions; there had to have been more than one sniper, or other members of BLU team opting to shoot from behind cover, which would have been odd, but not outside the realm of possibility. They had taken out the entire RED team at least four times over as soon as they came out of that mineshaft behind him, judging from the number of corpses littering the feild. Compared to the usual comotose, half-deaf, koala-fucking snipers, this bunch was definitely a cut above.

There were corpses of both RED and BLU all along the entire length of this rail so far and in some places they stacked three deep thanks to the constant clashing along the way; RED was trying to push in, and BLU was trying to push them back out toward their own base. The stench was starting to spread, even out here in the open, which meant that they had been lying out here under this seering cloudless sky for longer than a few hours. The engineer of course could only recall running up this way once, but there was always evidence to the contrary, so these days he always made it a habit to run for a spot clear of dead bodies, so that at least that way he wasn't making the same mistake twice. Ultimately, for all he knew, this mission could have been going on for more than a day or two, and could easily continue even longer.

After a few seconds of missing, the sniper fire stopped, and the RED engineer cautiously unfirled his dispenser kit. If he could just hold this position, the rest of the team could catch up and hopefully not die this time around. He himself had narrowly made it out of that mine in one piece, across that painfully long 30ft stretch and into this loading depot. It was a hot, rotting hell of a journey with enemies around every corner. He saw his team mates die, then come running up behind him oblivious to what had just happened to start fighting and dying again. It was nerve wracking and confusing as hell. One of the many reasons why the team never thought too hard about anything and just stuck to their pre-determined roles in each mission.

He was certain from the continued ruckus of fighting behind him, the payload was at least still moving, but from out here it was impossible to tell who was still alive. He kept watch in the other direction, but saw nothing. It was possible that the whole of the BLU team had come at them in the mine and were still there, possibly finishing them off. He kicked himself for running out ahead and leaving them behind; he just followed the soldier and the demolition thinking that they had him covered. And they did for a few seconds before the snipers got them.

If he could hold this position and throw down a teleporter it wouldn't matter. He quickly set to work, all the while still listening for any danger, but hopelessly focused on the guys in the mine and that nuclear payload. He didn't like entertaining the idea of retrieving that two ton hunk of junk on his ownHe heard a shreek from a medic, then an explosion that shook the ground and some shouting from a soldier and a scout, then more screaming as a heavy opened fire, then another much closer explosion that caused a cloud of dust and black smoke to spill out of the mouth of that mineshaft. Out of the midst of it the stocky red rubber body of the RED pyrotechnitian came jogging backwards, still dousing a screaming BLU soldier in flames. He turned around and left the man's smoldering corpse behind him, running at top speed across that open stretch.

"Get over here!" The engineer called out to him.

"Hurrdahurr!" The pyro spotted the engineer and changed direction for that cover, but took a shot in the leg. He stumbled with a loud but still muffled scream.

"Hang in there, partner! That sniper's got me pinned!!" the engineer called out again, this time again narrowly avoiding a bullet to the head.

The pyro kept limping forward, then another shot slammed into his hip and he crumpled to the ground a long and painful wail.

"Aw HELL." Those low down dirty gutless cowards were shooting to wound on purpose to try and lure the able bodied out into the open. The pyro's heartwrenching cries were too much for the engineer to ignore. "SICK'EM!" he threw a sentry on top of one of those crates and it immediately started shooting. He didn't stick around to make sure it hit anything; he launched himself back out towards his teammate, still having to outrun bullets popping the sand just inches from his feet. He stopped momentarily behind a steel support beam and tried to pinpoint where that sniper was. He almost got his face blown off once, but judging from the ricoche he calculated that the shot was fired from his three oclock. He looked and sure enough he caught the gleam of sunlight off the sniper's scope. He pumped his shotgun, fired into that window and blew the windowframe to pieces with the shot. Even if he missed, he bought himself the seconds he needed to run out to the pyro and grab him by the fuel tanks on his back.

"Keep yer head up, firebug, Ah gotcha!" He started dragging him back towards the depot.

"Hurrduur!" The pyro pulled out his flare gun and started shooting into every open window within range on the way.

"EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU IS DEAD!!" The heavy artillery's voice boomed out of the darkness of that mineshaft along with the payload. He had given it a good hard push, sending it roaring up ahead of him just before starting up his gas-powerd death machine. He fired continuously at anything that moved or could have housed anything that moved – a storage shed filled with explosives, a truck, an outhouse, even an old winch that was supposedly meant for hauling loads out of a hole in the ground a few yards away. He took a bullet in the shoulder, then two more in his back before he could train those six spinning barrels at the wide open door of that loading depot. Three bodies cried out in pain and fell two stories from the scaffolding inside, but the heavy artillery kept on firing in a wide half circle around the payload at anything and everything, shattering glass windows and smashign through wood until his gun started shooting air and the barrels ran red hot from that sustained automatic discharge.

"Oh my god Sasha!" As soon as he caught sight of that glowing hot metal, his eyes widened and he immediately stopped in his tracks as if in a sudden panic. He dropped to his knees and whipped out his canteen, tore the lid open with his teeth and poured its entire contents onto his beloved weapon, issuing forth a loud hiss and a thick plume of white steam. He only let himself relax when the gunbarrels' color returned to black, and did so with a great sigh of relief. He picked Sasha up even though she was clearly still hot enough to burn his skin and held her in both arms, consoling her in an uncharacteristically gentle and reassuring Russian tone as though she were a very young, but still very large and heavy child. He kissed her on the barrel, but yanked back quickly upon burning his lips on contact. It was at this time that he noticed the pyro and the engineer gawking at him.

"WHAT?!" He bellowed angrily.

"Ah din' see nuthin'." The engineer, holding back a chuckle, threw up his hands and turned away to tend to his machines.

"Hurrda hur huuuurrrr!" the pyro was back in good health and thought he'd take a shot at his giant team mate by pretending that his flamethrower was breastfeeding in his usual over exagerated pantomime.

"YOU SHUT UP!" Heavy artillery threw his empty canteen at the pyro, who dodged it narrowly and started laughing and pointing at him. Heavy artillery coughed up some blood and decided not to waste any more energy on that argument. He hoisted himself back up onto his feet so that he could trudge his way over to that dispenser. Upon arrival, the pyro realized just how bad he looked and stopped making fun of him in favor of giving him a friendly pat on the back and a few muffled words of encouragement while he stood in front of that dispenser and breathed in that pink mist. Even with that stuff working it's magic, this heat was his worst enemy; he still dripped with sweat and his face was still beet red and dirty from the soot of the mine and the mortar fire, and he still labored in his breathing. He wiped a curtain of sweat from his brow and set about reloading that enormous magazine.

“Teleporter comin' up!” the engineer had had sufficient time to fully upgrade his sentry gun and was now beginning work on the next problem.

“Hurrdahurrdahurr!” The pyro squawked at the heavy artillery to join him at the payload, shooting a few ribbons of flames to express his enthusiasm.

“You don't tell me what to do.” When the heavy was finished, he made his way over to the cart and leaned into it with a grunt. The metal wheels made a slow and squeaky start, but soon made a steady roll up the strack with the pyro running in a half circle in front, spraying flames into windows and around corners as they progressed into the industrial complex ahead.

“Hey! Whadda you chuckleheads doin' out here? You havin' a picnic or somethin'?” The scout had run all this way past the warehouses up that hill and through that smoke filled mine. “You know what I really coulda used back there?! A fuckin' teleporter! I'm lookin' at you, overalls!”

“All in good time, son.” The engineer didn't even turn around. Just one more good whack and that teleporter was open for business.

“Yeah, you keep doin' whatever it is you're doin' over there. I got shit to do.” The scout scoffed, and started jogging up the line. “Aw COME ON! Move it, lard ass!” He ran up and started jabbing the heavy in the ribs with his bat. “My eighty-year-old grandmudda can shuffle faster than you!”

The heavy kept pace, threw one arm back and yanked that bat right out of the scout's hand.

“Woa! Hey! I was just tryin'a give ya a little encouragement there!”

“Go fetch.” The heavy smirked.

“Hey that's my -!” The scout tried to grab his weapon back, but the heavy had already tossed that little wooden stick several yards down the line. “Lookit you, you think that was real fuckin' funny, don't you?”

“Da.” The heavy smiled, but kept up his work.

“Oh yeah, well, fuck you too, fat cakes! This isn't over!” Scout ran off to retrieve his bat. “I'm gonna be all over you like a spider monkey!”

“GET 'EM BOYOS!! *glug*” demotition appeared on the teleporter pad, bottle in hand, drunk, disorderly and ready for action. He was facing the wrong way, so the engineer stepped up to spin him around. Demolition reacted violently, spilling some of his scrumpy, but thankfully not falling down. “Keep yer 'ands off me, ya bloody … oh aye see now... yoor a right good hearted leprechaun...hold this...” the demo handed his bottle to the engineer for a moment while he cocked his grenade launcher. “Good lad.” Then he took it back and took another swig just before stumbling off after the rest of the group.

“Can't you drag yerself any faster than that? Ya great lactating wet nurse!” The first thing demolition did was kick the heavy right in the seat of his pants. It wasn't quite hard enough to spur him forward, but it was hard enough to piss him off. He stopped pushing and turned around, grabbed demolition by one arm and threw him in his place.

“Okay, you are so good, YOU push cart.” He gave the demolition a hard shove into the payload. Demolition started pushing with all his whiskey driven might, but he only seemed to move that cart at about half the speed. Without much concern, the heavy artillery took this chance to give his whole upper body a good stretch, popping his joints and vertebrae loud enough for the engineer to hear from this distance.

Then there was the sudden uproar of the next inevitable clash. This time it started with the deafening rattle of machine guns and the screams of RED team members as they were hit and scrambled to fight back. RED Pyro was gunned down instantly as that line of glowing BLU juggernauts came around that first bend. RED scout and demolition darted off for cover, having no chance against an uber-charged enemy. RED heavy had no chance of escape in that tight of a spot, so with a mighty battle cry he opened fire on them for as long as he could, striking down a BLU demolition just behind them before he succumbed to the other heavies.

“INCOMIIIING!!” RED demolition charged back to the engineer's nest and dove behind the cover.

“Dagnabbit! Come on, fellas!” RED engineer huffed and hunkered down behind his sentry, frantically patching holes in it as it pumped bullets and RPG's into the enemy line, keeping them at a distance through percussive force more so than actually dealing damage. He took bullets in his shoulders and arms, but that dispenser wouldn't let him die so long as it was still running.

“NOT ONE OF YA IS GONNA SURVIVE THIS!!” Demolition shouted his usual Celtic fury at the enemy and launched grenades in high archs over the heads of the heavies, thankfully making some sizable dents in the ground forces behind them. Just a few more seconds and the uber's finally shorted out, but with those medics still on their feet, the heavies would just keep coming.

“Lookit this! Aw lookit this! You SUCK!” RED scout came out of hiding and started gunning BLU's down from behind. One pyro down, then a medic, and a few consecutive circles later, one of the heavies finally went down.

“I hear someone building daiper changing station!” the other BLU heavy closed in and targeted RED engineer's dispenser. It was destroyed in seconds along with that teleporter. Then there was a sudden explosion of blood and fire and the huge man fell to the ground missing the upper half of his body and exposing his medic to sentry fire.

“Nice shootin' Tex!” RED engineer was overjoyed to see that heavy/medic team go down.

“Ach - save yer praises for – AAAAUGH!” RED demolition's legs were shot out from under him by a rocket blast. Another rocket came flying in and split that sentry in two. The BLU soldier only had to charge in and smack RED engineer with a shovel.

RED engineer reeled, but swung back with his wrench, striking the BLU soldier in the jaw. This gave him the chance to pump his shotgun, but before he could fire, the BLU soldier recovered and hit him again. Then again.

RED engineer's goggles were filling with blood, so he fired in the BLU soldier's general direction until he ran out of slugs – somewhere in the area of five to six times. He still heard gunfire and yelling all around, but seemed to have defeated the man in front of him. He kicked at the ground and found a body there, but then something smacked into his chest. He felt the burning of a gunshot wound, so he quickly switched to his pistol and fired once before that second BLU shot it out of his hand.

“Gaaa!” It was excrutiating, but he knew not to give that son of a bitch the satisfaction. He lowered his head and rammed himself into an enemy body, knocking both of them to the ground. He reared up and let loose bashing the man's face in with his wrench until he stopped fighting back. By now the ringing in his ears was drowning out all the noise around him. He took a moment to breathe, but found that even that was difficult; hot blood spurted up his throat and then back down into his chest, depriving him of more and more breath.

“Medic!” although he put all of his effort into calling for help, his voice barely made it out of his body. He pulled of his bloody goggles and wiped his face on his sleeve. He could now see that he had beaten the life out of an unarmed sack of oranges. He pondered what sort of insidious plan BLU had with all these oranges. Then he wondered who shot him if it wasn't these oranges. He turned around just in time for a BLU scout to smack him sideways with a baseball bat. He found himself lying on his back sputtering and spitting blood, the sky and the looming stone walls spinning all around him.

“AND. You. Are. OUTTA HE-AAAAAA!!” BLU scout's celebration only lasted long enough for him to be shot and then viciously mauled by the RED soldier.

Oh man. This story is so good.

Also you misspelled diaper.

Engineer always has problems when he's near death.

WHAT DEVIOUS PLAN IS BLU CONCOCTING TO DO WITH THOSE ORANGES ENGIE? QUICK, DROP EVERYTHING AND THINK ABOUT IT.

You're a bloody genius.

The mental image of Engineer whacking a sack of oranges seemed rather funny to me.

Well I re-read this for the 8th time by now.

I understand if you lost the drive to continue writing this KGB.
But seriously itslikethegreatestficonthechan.
Best characterization. This is and will forever be the pinnacle of helmet writing in my opinion.

I know its been a while, but I think I'm getting somewhere now

Every warrior worth his salts knew the value of shock and awe, or as some namby pamby lawyers called it – brutal and excessive force. George S. Patton knew it, Tsun Tsu knew it, even Abraham Lincoln knew it. The most effective way to win a fight is to destroy the enemy's very will to fight, to take the violence to such a brutal and personal level that the enemy practically destroys himself in burning up all of his resources for the sake of continuing. A man can fight and bleed and kill through mud and cold and starvation as long as even that slimmest hope of victory exists within him. If one could inflict a level of pain so deep as to destroy all of the enemies means of retaliation; by breaking his body so thoroughly that he can't even muster up the thought of fighting back, and anyone who would have sided with him is so cowed by the sight of it that they vainly beg for peace. That would be the best victory.
The only problem with this philosophy was that every single soldier on these fields, both RED and BLU believed every word of it in his heart of hearts. Soldiers never got sick of fighting the same fight every day, and never even gave a second thought to the fact that they were all copies of the same original – a legion of duplicates separated only by the color of their uniforms. They were all the same man right down to the personal ideal that a good soldier knows that no fight is pointless no matter how many arguments are made to the contrary, and no matter if those arguments came from his own team, or from a hapless organization of local activists trying to slow them down.
RED team had been pushing that nuclear payload up that mountain for weeks, and BLU had been pushing it back down in that same stretch. The local chapter of Green Peace had been trying vainly to stop the slaughter of innocent trees and wildlife with sit ins and picket signs against bullets and grenades and quickly ran out of people dumb enough to keep coming back out. At one point a few of them chained themselves to the nuke, thinking that would stop RED company from using it to destroy BLU HQ. Even when they stepped outside the bounds of peaceful protest by pelting anyone that got near the thing with fresh organic naval oranges, they didn't last for more than an hour before they were all senselessly killed in the crossfire. This incident and all the countless others before it would never come back to bite Mann Co. in the ass thanks to the chief executives pigeonholing congress into passing one or two laws that dissolved the rights of trespassers on private land.
RED medic had been trailing behind the RED soldier, keeping him alive while he blasted his way back up the hill to where they last saw the payload. They found their engineer in a storage shed and saved him from a BLU scout by way of a vicious beating. The two of them then barked orders at the man to start building machinery in stereo. Dispenser here, sentry there, the engineer didn't miss a beat. A BLU demolition man then caught the RED soldier's eye and he immediately started shooting rockets at him. The BLU demolition returned fire, much to the detriment of RED soldier's immediate team mates.
“Get the hell outta here, Rocket boy! Yer drawin' fire!” RED engineer had to duck down in the middle of building a tele-porter exit.
“FINE! YOU LADIES KEEP BREASTFEEDING THE SISSY FARM WHILE I SINGLE-HANDEDLY -!”
“RAUS! RAUS! GET TO ZE CART!” RED medic shooed the soldier along, then ducked back inside, narrowly avoiding a hail of bullets from an unseen assailant somewhere down the line. That newly upgraded sentry in the doorway took care of the rest – four precision guided missiles and an explosion later, there was a refreshing calm in the safety of this shed. The medic let out a sigh of relief and dropped the weight of that medi-gun contraption to his side while he leaned in the corner. He looked like he'd taken some bullets and shrapnel thanks to the rough ride up with that soldier, and like everyone else besides the scout, that half-mile uphill jog in triple-digit weather wasn't helping him much.
“Danke, engineer.” he huffed wearily, taking out a handkerchief and mopping his brow in the glow of that freshly built despeser.
“You're alright, doc.” The engineer kept hammering away without a second thought. If he wasn't mistaken, that yawning gorge leading directly to the BLUs' local underground HQ was only a few yards away.
Then the inevitable cries for “MEDIC!” started pouring in. The scout, of course, was always the first to come crying home, followed by the demolition, who had suffered a devastating injury to his entire left side and only found his way back thanks to a percussive blast from the fray up the track.
“You are all so dramatic!” The medic stepped up and got back to work.
The looming figure of the heavy artillery materialized on the tele-porter within seconds of its completion.
“Which way is cart?” he asked tiredly, not even bothering to look around. He had a half-smoked cigarette hanging from his lower lip as though he had simply stopped for a smoke break while he was waiting for the tele-porter entrance at the base to become operational. No one could really blame him for not wanting to run another uphill marathon.
“Zis way!” the medic sprang into action, starting off at a brisk jog and motioning for the heavy to follow.
“Da.” Heavy artillery took a moment put out his cigarette, then took in a deep breath and carried himself and his minigun off in the medic's direction.
The pyrotechnitian appeared on the platform as soon as it was free. He had his mask partially lifted and appeared to be eating something.
“Whatcha got there, partner?”
“Oh nothing...” The pyro grinned.
“Whadda you mean nothin'? Ah see you chompin' on somethin' there!” the engineer chuckled.
“Okaayy, you caught mee.” The pyrotechnitian was now giggling like a ten-year-old that had just been caught looking in on the girl's locker room. He took some out of his pocket to share. He handed the engineer what appeared to be little grey bits of...
“This is peyote.” The engineer wished he was shocked, although he really was hoping for some m&m's. “Dagnabbit! Yer gonna get yerself killed out there!”
“That's what re-spawn is for, Papito!” Pyro gave the engineer a weird pat on the cheek that must have been meant to be re-assure, but only served to irk the engineer.
“Yer the devil himself.” The engineer shook his head, but pocketed the mushrooms. “Ah'll try em later.”
“Suit yourself.” The pyro pulled his mask down, and readied his flame thrower.
“Hurmhuddahur!” He stopped a moment to point at the engineer in an insistent manner.
“Ah will! Dammit!” the engineer patted the pocket on the front of his coveralls. “Go on! Git!”
The pyro took off with some muffled giggles and instantly had to set fire to a BLU soldier that had squirted out of the mellee. He jogged a circle around him for a moment or two, but then noticed that there were more BLU uniforms up ahead that needed to die.
“Dagnabbit.” The engineer watched the fight carefully and planned his next move. The BLU still outnumbered RED three to one He immediately supposed that he should hold his position and have a little faith, but there was always a little doubt in the back of his mind. Then again, if he made any movement out of this shack, he could get taken out by a sniper. Then yet again, if he didn't move up, he might as well just sap his own machinery, stab himself in the back, and hope to God that his team would be forgiving and gentle.
“Gwon an get a move on, mate.” RED sniper spoke up from just outside the shed's door. “I'll cover you.”
“Much obliged, partner!” RED engineer wasted no time in packing up. Then as he was bending down and compacting his sentry, the realization that his back was exposed hit him like the Orange Blossom Special. In a flash he dropped his gear and started to swing.
“EASY! EASY!” RED sniper jerked backward. “It's ME you YOBO!!”
RED engineer stopped himself, but kept at the ready. RED sniper slowly started to reach for his machete. RED engineer stayed at the ready for a very long time.
“How do Ah know you aint'a spah?” He felt like he had to make the inquiry at least.
“How do OI know YOU'RE not a spoi?” RED sniper grumbled and stared right back at the shorter man, ready to lob his head off with that machete at the drop of a hat.
The sounds of battle were still ringing through the complex; gunfire, explosions and the shouting of men echoed between buildings. Flying shrapnel could even be heard spattering on concrete just a few yards away.
This standoff was going on much longer than it probably needed to already. The likelihood of this man being an enemy was quickly fading. RED engineer had to think fast to neutralize the situation.
“HOOWEE You shoulda seen the look on your face!” He broke his stance and laughed.
“You mean you were joking?!” RED sniper straightened, sounding more angry than amused.
“Yeah, Ah knew it was you the second you -”
“You son of a bitch!” RED sniper snatched RED engineer up by the collar, gave him a stern slap and came between and inch or two of his face. “We are in REAL danger here! Now JUST GET GOING!” He then dropped him roughly and the RED engineer stumbled upon landing. Still in shock, he rubbed his stinging cheek.
“Did you just slap me?” RED engineer inquired.
“No, I merely struck you.” RED sniper turned up his nose and dusted himself.
“Horseshit! That was a slap, son!” Only just after he said that, he realized that the sniper's accent had changed. “You -”
“Ongard!” BLU spy didn't waste any more time; he jabbed at the RED engineer several times before he could get a good swing in and break his arm with that wrench. He let out a high pitched scream upon impact, but was quickly silenced by the RED engineer's fist hitting him hard in the jaw. He fell out cold in the dirt. RED engineer finished him off with a single shot from his pistol.

dammit the spaces went away

Orange Blossom Special... is that just characterization or are you Southern or something?? It's weird to hear that in a setting like this cause I hear that phrase/song a lot where I'm from.

A small note - peyote is a kind of cactus, not mushroom. While both have hallucinogenic properties, it's harder to overdose on shrooms and it's easier to find peyote in the desert. Peyote cactus has uses in a number of religions from southern and central America, so seems more likely to be what Pyro's got.

Brought to you by recent readings of Hunter S Thompson's drug fuelled writings.

I hope I'm saging this correctly because I'm working on the next installment and It's nowhere near ready and I haven't even checked on this thing in forever and bla bla who cares
anyway -
>>66 Orange Blossom Special is the name of a Johnny Cash song/album
>>67 I am aware that peyote is a cactus, I wrote this last bit in a hurry and it really shows. My apologies.
More fun time is in the works, so be aware. Thankyou and goodnight.

I'm loving this so much.

I'm loving this so much.

>>69

Don't bump threads from 3 years ago, please.

>>71
They saged... you didn't. GOOD JAAB

>>72

I don't know how.

I'm an idiot. I'll go hang myself now, sorry.

sage goes in the email field (or all fields if you're a mad enough cunt)