Deer God.

Roleplay blog for Cole Donaghue, some Scottish red deer splice and administrator for the RED team at CP_Mountain Lab

[administrative-engideer]

deadshotaborigine:

“Eat!? WHY WOULD SHE EAT A CUTE GOAT?”

Shrugs. “I dunno, ask the bitchy crocodile.”

[administrative-engideer]

deadshotaborigine:

“O-Oh… so you’re gonna let her…. deal with a goat. At customs?”

“Well, in an ideal world, she doesn’t eat the goat in the first place. I’m just gonna let it happen, though. Need some entertainment over here, mate.”

[administrative-engideer]

”...You know what, I’m not even gonna try and stop you.”

[administrative-engideer]

Tsk. Let him be proud of himself, would you?

[administrative-engideer]

onpointandpen:

@ Administrative-engideer

A small knock on the door before the assistant is letting herself in her. An introduction Which Necessary, THEREFORE, considering new position. Meeting all the mercs what her goal, but above all else, the big boss came first. 

“Good evening, sir, I’m-” There’s a long pause, the woman’s lids appearing to widen in surprise.  

His own eyes flash wide. Like a deer in the headlights, (so to speak, of course) the administrator can barely bring himself to stand up from his desk as the woman strolls in.

“--The assistant, I know who you are.” He manages a toothy smile, now that’s a first. But he wasn’t blind, he could see the sudden shock. “...I know what you’re thinkin’. Ask what you want about all... this later, would you?

Take a seat,” he says, gesturing to a chair adjacent to him. “Miss Lee, ain’t it?”

[administrative-engideer]

[ SCREAMS ]

[deadshotaborigine]

Wuji mangelk?!

[ English, Jake, English. ]

S’not. Safe!

[ He offers a husky growl, as well as something deeper behind those kind eyes, something deeper, darker and far more wild than what he’s typical to outwardly expressing. Not so cute now. ]

I will not be closin’ no gate till your arm is free or safe. You might get stuck there if that one comes back to holds you in place?! Plus wotever it is’ll probably just open them again! We’ll just have t’board this place up or somethin’?!

[ Huffs aggressively, now maneuvering his way around to the other side of the gate. ]

S’your arm still bein’ held or?

[administrative-engideer]

[ The growling catches him about as off-guard as the creature that had seized his arm so suddenly, almost as much as that foreign tongue. Another tug back, another few shots fired--it's enough for him to at least attempt to twist his arm free from the steely grip. ]

[ Mismatched eyes settle and grow soft for a moment to the sudden lecture--from Jake of all people. ]

...We can board it off, barricade it. Lemme just--

[ He should've been used to this. It was a mistake, choosing to wear a cream sweater, as it does him no favors in trying to hide the extend of his injury. He can feel something clawing away at his shoulder, enough to push him into firing one last shot at the robot's wrist to free himself. ]

S'fine, s'fine! [ Lies, Cole--his shoulder's still being clutched. ] M'alright, I can handle this--just find some way of blockin' this entrance off!

[deadshotaborigine]

[ Jake’s eyes follow his friend, hand steady and his shoulders tense until— ]

I said don’t speak?!

[ Now he’s half screeching, reacting out of impulse and simply tugging back on Cole’s arm without even bothering to look up or push the attacker off. ]

G-get t’fuck off my best mate?!

[administrative-engideer]

[ Jake doesn't have to tug back; the once-engineer has already begun yanking back, not caring for the metal grip that feels as if it's tearing through his sweater and even piercing his flesh. His neck snaps around, taking little hesitation in planting a few pistol shells in the creature's steel form. ]

--The fuck is this?!

[ The burning sensation and red seeping from his arm goes blissfully ignored, instead channeling his energy into grabbing the sniper's attention. ]

Get this bloody gate closed with me! Whatever the fuck that is, I doubt that's the last of 'em. Sure as fuck doesn't sound like it.

[deadshotaborigine]

[ He says nothing, hand slowly slipping to his belt to reach for his Bushwacka. Eyes narrow and he sniffs loudly, grip firm on the handle as his eyes continue to dart about. ]

[ Slowly he turns to the splice, giving him that knowing look of ‘be quiet. Even if the man didn’t know the bushman’s code, he should still get the hint… ]

[administrative-engideer]

[ He follows the Australian's lead, reaching into his toolbelt for a disused pistol. Still loaded... perfect. He's now a few steps away from the gate with his pistol raised, eyes still frantic when they settle on Jake's. ]

[ Quiet. He can do quiet. Just as well, considering--]

...Clangin'. Sounds like--

[ One hand was occupied, yes--but he hadn't been counting on his other being seized backwards against and through the metal bars so suddenly by a grip equally metallic. ]

Jake...! 

[deadshotaborigine]

[ Grunting in agreement, he says nothing more on the subject, but readies to pull the gate. ]

Y-yeah…

[ A pause though, no pull. ]

Yeah I do…

[ Grip loosens and his sharp eyes dart around into the bitterness of the late winter. ]

Maybe we gotta teammate spyin’ on us… or it could just be that cat the BLU pyro’s keepin’…

[administrative-engideer]

[ Pulling the gate isn't a priority, apparently, as staring down vacantly at the bars is far more important. ]

...No. That ain't a cat, and if anyone was even considerin' spyin' on us, I'll--

[ Another pause; this time, eyes dart around almost maniacally to the growing noise in the white vicinity. ]

Can you seriously not hear this?!

[deadshotaborigine]

[ He gives a short laugh moving over to one gate and grip it tightly. ]

Look, I’m tall f’a reason, okay?

[ Pats the gate. ]

C’mon, ain’t gonna move by itself!

[administrative-engideer]

[ Rolling his shoulders, he flexes his right hand. ]

What, too much spinach or some shit? I kid... I know why. 'Least that's out now.

[ Grunting, he wraps his hands around the same gate as Jake until his ears twitch and-- ]

...Y'hear that? Just me?

[deadshotaborigine]

[ They continue in silence, both cuddling their own torso’s till the gates are reached, Jake’s jaw slowly falling open to their height. ]

Bloody tall ain’t they?

[ Taking an odd moment to admire said gates, he slowly shuffles around to his friend. ]

S’… how we gonna go about this?

[administrative-engideer]

[ The temptation is to start chewing on his fingers again as they reach the gates. Best to make light of this, hard as it is. ]

Comin' from you. Heheh...

[ His hands are placed on his hips, a lump firm in his throat. ]

...Guessin' we both take one gate and lift it, push it... just make sure it stays fuckin' shut.

[deadshotaborigine]

[ Huffs, puffing out his cheeks while pulling on the jacket a bit more. ]

… Thanks.

[ Wow this jacket is nice… god you’re lucky. ]

I don’t have no habits though!

L-look… maybe we should keep our voices lower ‘cos m’mighty sure both BLU n’RED’ll start hearing us squabblin’. We can squabble when we get back anyway… almost at the gates so best t’keep our energy.

[administrative-engideer]

[ Hugs his arms loosely. A sweater can only do so much. ]

Don't mention it, mate.

You do! Every fuckin' day I see you--

[ As soon as the words leave the sniper's mouth, he silences himself. ]

...You've got a point. Rather avoid drawin' attention to me--t'this if I can help it... can't be too hard t'sort out. Let's not drag this out any more than we need to.

[deadshotaborigine]

I don’t need no lookin’ out for, I survive the outback, just like every other aborig—oh crikey it’s bleedin’ cold.

[ Shivers, rubbing his arms. ]

N’ yeah, I do… just ‘cos you don’t see it, don’t mean I don’t have none now. I didn’t see you the type t’suck y’thumb…

[administrative-engideer]

Gathered as much. Now what the hell did I tell you?

[ Instinctively, his own jacket is pulled off and thrown into the arms of the Aborigine. ]

Don't give that back to me. Y'need it more. And you do a good job of hidin' it, in that cas--

It ain't thumb-suckin'! It's--fuck it. You can have your habits, I'll keep mine. Ta.

[deadshotaborigine]

Y-yeah… um… cool.

[ No time is wasted on striding out of the office, swinging the door open as he looks over his shoulder for the deer-man. ]

Look, coat or not, you gotta come with me. I got a bit of muscle on me, but I can’t do this on my own. Now suck it up, mate.

[administrative-engideer]

[ With shoulders slumped, he follows. ]

Just... lookin' out for you! Last thing I want is you freezin' t'death, mate. And m'suckin' it up. Not like I've got a choice. 

[ Sighs. ]

...Never took you for bein' one t'have muscle.

[deadshotaborigine]

N-n’I wasn’t trained in unknown invasions!? This is like… that thing War of the World or wotever.

[ Swats that finger away. ]

…

[ Opens mouth, finger held up in protest. ]

Uh… well I—

[ That mouth quickly shuts and finger lowers too. ]

Yeah um… let’s not uh… yeah. You ought t’uh… hmm… y’know wot? Let’s just go.

[administrative-engideer]

Y'mean War of the Worlds? C'mon, this ain't an invasion just yet... 

[ He sucks on his finger instead. Better keep him happy. ]

...Like the way you think.

[ His tattered jacket is plucked from the back of his chair and flung over his shoulders. ]

Look, I'd rather get this out the way, settle those nerves and all that. I want t'say it's just an error, but... mmph. Whatever.

[deadshotaborigine]

I-I can try get it back online, b-but it means I’ll have t’go through every single computer active at TFI—I mean… this obviously ain’t just ‘cos of the cold, you can still turn on your computer, right? It’s like someone’s teasin’ us…

[ Rubs face again. ]

We’ll get right on those gates though.

[administrative-engideer]

Every fuckin'... I took electrical engineerin' and robotics, none of this computer shit! I know what I'm doin'... just about. God, though... if... hm.

[ Chews on his finger. ]

If we're goin' for the gates, put on a coat or somethin'--who am I kiddin', you ain't that dumb.