Grounded Icarus

“Oh.” She looked at the yellow line and suddenly felt compelled to pull it. It probably wasn’t their stop for a while but she really wanted to pull it to see what would happen.

“So when’s our stop?” Maybe she could give the line a tug when they were closer to town. It suddenly felt like a competition between herself and the other passengers: who would pull the line first and win?

“Shouldn’t be too long,” Chuck explained with a little shrug. “It’s pretty soon after we hit town. The bar is kinda smallish, but like, it’s better than nothin’. More than we had back at home, that’s for sure.”

He looked out the window as silence fell between them, the desert landscape rolling by evenly. It was very different than his home, much less green, but in a way it was the same, too--a lot of flat, empty space. The bill of his hat thunked against the window as the bus went over a bump, so Chuck turned it backwards with a little frown.

#ooc #delete later #ive been here even less

stilettostab

hello i didn’t really get on last night because i felt super gross and terrible but i’m here now

if anyone wants to start an rp i am down for that, pls hit me up

also if anyone was interested in that b/nha stuff u can also message me abt that? i have the oc(s) i mentioned and august also has an au for the ‘verse though I dunno how old he would be for that one

stilettostab

does anyone who follows me also like/rp b-h-n-a because i have a pro hero oc that i tried to rp a while back but it didn’t take off very well and i kind of miss him,,,,

#reblogs this here too #ooc #delete later

thoseblusox

Previous [x]

Not long left in the match? Sounds perfect for an all-out attack don’t you think?

Elliot was a screaming harpy as she dropkicked the enemy Medic into the floor, her cleats making mush out of his face as she landed with such speed and ferocity that there wasn’t very much room for a counter-attack. To add insult to injury, while the short spikes on the bottoms of her feet made mash potato from his face, the barbed wire around her bat joined in with making sure his body was also neatly tenderized.

A Medic was perhaps not the best target to go for, but, hey? When he was standing out in the open underneath the awning of a rooftop, it was a golden chance to diminish the chances of RED winning with a portable medpack willing to run around.

Suitably tired she had to escape, her eyes whipping around for any movement before spotting the sliver of blue. Teammate! Releasing her spikes from the body with the sounds of wet flesh she approached, smiling with a tiny wave and smearing some of the skull fragments away with the back of her hand; Until her smile started to fade and die as much as it became replaced with a look of grim telling.

“Chuck– What…” A hitch in her breath stopped her from continuing, eyes glued to his hand as her mind frantically searched pages and pages of textbooks for some sort of answer. She didn’t have one. Pale, she strapped her bat down onto the top of her bag to have access to both hands, no matter how much they shook.

Lifting him was out of the question; Fireman’s sling would aggravate the wound, piggyback was a possibility but what if one arm failed to hold on? A bridal style would be ideal but they were still in the end-game of the match– They would be down two Scouts. “I gott’a medpack in my bag I can help try an’ stop th’a flow’a blood but there’s nothin’ I can do till I get’cha t’a gun.” Her mind continued to come up short, blanking on every avenue of remedy she knew of for a stab wound in the side. Maybe it hadn’t punctured a lung? Maybe it was surface-bound?

#blood #thoseblusox #sorry this is a bit shorter and also like 3 weeks late weeps

Chuck didn’t actually notice the other Scout approaching until she spoke. He gave her a smile--or, his best approximation of a smile, which was really more of a grimace--and raised his free hand to wave. “Howdy, Eli.”

He sort of expected her to maybe help send him to a quick respawn trip, or just wish him luck on his way back, but instead she seemed to want to help him actually survive. That was a nice change of pace, honestly. He hadn’t told anyone how much he hated respawn, but maybe everyone tried to avoid it as much as possible these days. “I appreciate it,” he mumbled after she offered a medpack, voice a little fried from coughing--and, as if on cue, another cough came through, a bit of blood wetting his lips. Once he caught his breath, he sighed, suddenly exhausted.

“I, uh--I can just bandage it up, if you wanna get back out there. I’d hate to hold you up, or anythin’...”

klein-klaus replied to your post: ✄ What is an idea you originally had in mind for...

LOOKS AT YOU

#kleinklaus

✄ What is an idea you originally had in mind for your muse, but ended up scrapping? Why?

Hmmmm. I’ve mostly added things to Chuck since his inception, rather than scrapping. He was originally a lot closer to canon, but without… legs.

I also had him have, like, his buck turner all star shoes in the back of his closet for angst fodder, because when I first made him I didn’t do any fucking research. Like, amputees can fucking wear shoes. You don’t wear one pair of prosthesis for your whole life. Come on, past me.

#don't look at me like that ok. i know. i even mentioned ks last night which really just blows my argument out of the water here #dont LOOK at me #ooc #delete later

I actually realized this last night, but a good approximation of what Chuck would be if I hadn’t leaned into him being an oc would actually be the scout in this medic/scout longfic that happens to involve.... the loss of a pair of limbs.

Look, I know it makes it look like I have some kind of weird thing here, but it’s a coincidence, by which I mean I started the fic after I fell off rping Chuck for a while (I made Chuck before we had Jeremy as a name, for instance,) and the fact that I’ve picked them both up again is because I didn’t want to leave my shipfic unfinished......

Abigail was about to protest Chuck paying her fare, but she let it go. It was only a few dollars and he was just trying to be nice. Maybe she could buy him a drink.

She sat next to Chuck on the uncomfortable seat and looked around. Come to think of it, she’d never been on a city bus before. She lived too far out in the country for buses to service her area and whenever she needed to go to town, she’d get a ride or drive herself.

It was kind of like her school bus as a kid, but less yellow. And no kids running down the aisles and the bus driver threatening to turn the bus around. “How does the bus know when it’s our stop?” she whispered, leaning over to Chuck.

He’d done it more because he’d forgotten to tell her how much the fare was rather than out of any sense of chivalry, but he would take the credit if it was given. He looked totally at home on the bus, flopped back in the seat like it was actually properly padded instead of an old bus seat.

“Oh, well. Or stop is town, which the bus always stops in, because it’s the main stop people use this bus for. If you wanna stop somewhere else, like when we head home, you tug that cord,” he explained, pointing up at the yellow plasticy wire that went all the way around the bus. “It lights up a thing on the dashboard that tells the driver to stop at the next stop. The downside of that is that you gotta be paying attention on the way back...”

#research is ur friend #a lot of his original concept was from katawa shoujo #ooc #munday meme #klein-klaus

✄ What is an idea you originally had in mind for your muse, but ended up scrapping? Why?

Hmmmm. I’ve mostly added things to Chuck since his inception, rather than scrapping. He was originally a lot closer to canon, but without... legs.

She paused. “You don’t wear dress shoes for cross-country…” and then she understood what he meant.

“I heard sometimes people still think they got part of their body when its gone. D’ya ever feel your feet itch? Or feel like you can move ‘em?”

“Yeah, ‘cause it’d hurt!” He grinned as she got it, with a well-meaning laugh.

The next question made him pause to think. “Hmm. Sometimes. Especially in the mornin’ when I’m first waking up, I like stretch and expect to feel toes that ain’t there. But I also...” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “I sort of work them harder than I should, so the, uh... the current ends of my legs are usually a little sore. So it’s pretty easy to remember where they end...”

He pushed off the pole as the bus trundled to a stop near them. Leading the way, he pulled out enough coins to pay both their fares, then trotted to a seat near the back--which was open, because most of the bus was open. Only a few people took up seats near the front, none of them paying the duo any mind.

Abigail gave a high-pitched uncomfortable laugh. It sounded more like a yelp. She couldn’t hit on ladies! That was like…illegal or something. She could hit on boys and Chuck could hit on girls and that was the way it worked.

She felt relieved to see the bus coming, but it looked like the bus was taking its sweet time. “Does it hurt?” she asked, glancing at Chuck’s legs again.

He certainly wasn’t well-versed in being gay, but it was obvious Abigail was uncomfortable. Was that because she was also not well-versed in being gay, or because she was uncomfortable with the idea of him being gay? He still wasn’t 100% sure he was, just... maybe. Like, 45% sure.

“Naw, not any more,” he answered with a little shrug. “I mean, if I don’t wear the socks, or don’t wash ‘em, which is gross in its own right. Or if I overwork myself, they sort of rub sores, sort of like if you wear dress shoes for cross-country running.”

ruadrisresources

It’s Munday!

But some muns would still rather talk about their muses and blog canon than about themselves, so here’s a meme for the muns to answer in depth about their blogs/muses!

✄ What is an idea you originally had in mind for your muse, but ended up scrapping? Why?

† Do you portray your muse as religious? Why or why not? How does your own religion (or lack thereof) influence this?

☑ What is a plot idea you’re willing to play with virtually any partner? What makes that plot so special to you?

☒ Is there any sort of behavior towards your muse (ic or ooc) that you simply cannot stand?

✰ How did you decide your muse’s skills and talents? Do they relate to their occupation in some way?

Ⅶ If you have multiple blogs and/or muses, which one is your favorite? Why?

❉ What is a dream AU for you? If you haven’t done it yet, why not?

✎ When choosing a name for your muse, did you pick something special or meaningful in some way?

☺ If you have a faceclaim for your muse, why did you choose them? Are you satisfied with your fc, or would you rather find a different one?

♥ When it comes to shipping, what factors are absolutely necessary for a ship to develop?

❝ ❞ Is it easy for you to write dialog for your muse? Do their speech patterns come naturally to you while writing?

❀ What is a muse you want to play but haven’t? Why haven’t you played them yet?

✸ Tell us about any NPCs on your blog. Who are they to your muse? What do they contribute to your blog?

✑ Do you prefer writing OCs or canon characters? Why?

✼ When it comes to worldbuilding, what are some ideas you’d like to explore in rp?

◑ What is a side to your muse you want to show off, but haven’t had the chance to yet?

#munday

“Ah…yep! I hit on guys!” she awkwardly agreed as Chuck proceeded to boast that he flirted with ladies. And then…dudes? Dudes couldn’t hit on dudes. Could they? She heard rumours about other mercs on both RED and BLU getting together…but the mercs were also criminals and crazy people so they weren’t the best example.

She was about to question him further when he started talking about his legs. She watched as he demonstrated them and showed off his nice shoes. “So like…they come off?” She had thought the blades were a permanent attachment. Something he’d sleep with and shower with.

#pinionshaftsandflanges #embrace ur lesbeen abigail

“Or you could hit on ladies too, if you wanted to,” he offered, sensing her awkwardness. “If anybody gives you trouble I’ll sock ‘em,” he added with a shake of his fist.

“Oh! The legs? Yeah, they come off.” He bent to roll his pant leg up, showing the place where the connection happened. “My leg ends right here,” he explained, sticking his finger between his leg and the plastic, “and then I have on a sock, and then there’s a plastic socket thing that it fits into. That way I can, like, wash it, and stuff. Otherwise it’d get sweaty and gross in there...” He gave a little shrug, looking up at a sound in the distance. Off on the horizon, a bus trundled towards them, kicking up clouds of dirt in the barely-defined road. “Once we’re in the bar I can take one off for you to show you, but it takes a few minutes to get back on, so I don’t wanna end up stuck with it in my hand when we have to get on or off the bus, you know?”

“Doubt we’re gonna make friends at the bar,” she replied. All she wanted to do was get drunk – talking to people wasn’t on her agenda.

She hesitated for a moment. Chuck was sort of a friend to her. A friendly acquaintance. A guy she could talk to about not-work stuff. But she still wasn’t sure of his motives. Did he want to date her? Or just be friends? Or both at the same time? She liked being with Chuck but whenever those questions popped into her head she grew uncomfortable.

It was then she glanced down at his shoes and realised he was wearing different…legs? The blades were replaced with something more leg-like and fit into shoes. When she realised she was staring, she looked away. Staring was rude.

#pinionshaftsandflanges #cool and fun ways to come out to ur kind of friends

“We might! Bars are where you go to, like, hit on dudes and stuff! Or, I guess in your case, dudes probably hit on you.” He shrugged. “And I hit on ladies, and they all usually turn me down. And I guess maybe I might also hit on dudes this time?” He scratched the back of his head, eyebrows furrowing. His cheeks flushed a bit too, embarrassment not entirely gone. “I’m still trying to figure that out. Dolly says it’s not weird for guys to hit on guys and if they’re weird about it it’s on them, but I dunno...”

It took him a few seconds to realise she was looking at his legs. “Oh, you like ‘em? These are my, like, normal-person legs, ‘cause the runners kinda freak people out sometimes. With these most people don’t even notice, except that I walk a little funny.” He lifted one leg off the ground to hold it up, the foot remaining at a 90 degree angle. “Plus I get to wear my cool shoes again, which is nice.” They were his favourites. Well, his favourites had blown up with his legs, but the company had replaced them without cost, probably since it was their fault they hadn’t respawned like normal. Which he appreciated, ‘cause they were expensive, damnit!

Abigail perked up. Dolly the RED Engineer. Maybe she was someone she could be friends with. Or at least ask for some advice.

She then paused to look up at the bus stop sign. It looked like it was kind of in th middle of nowhere. She glanced behind her shoulder as if she expected to see a bus rolling in. “You sure we’re at the right place?”

“Haha! Yeah. I wasn’t sure the first time either, but I guess the bus and us are the only ones who use this road? So it kinda just looks like more dirt.” He kicked at the dirt as he said the word, creating a little cloud in the air. Then he checked his watch. “Yeah, it should be around in the next five or ten minutes.”

Leaning against the pole, he looked up at her, buck teeth poking out in a placid smile. “But yeah, doesn’t seem like a lotta people around here are very, uh... outgoing? Everybody’s sort of wary of each other, I guess. Maybe we’ll make some friends at the bar! Or at least get to know each other better, so we can say we have at least one more friend.” He wasn’t sure if she really wanted to be his friend--she didn’t seem to, most of the time--but he was nothing if not persistent.

She would have thought Chuck had loads of friends. With a guy that bubbly and chatty, how could he not? And he was sporty like those popular guys back in high school, always surrounded by a group of adoring followers.

“I bet you got lots of friends back home,” she commented, staring down at her boots. “Who’s your friend? The one on RED?” Maybe she could try talking to that person. Get an extra friend on her side.

“I didn’t do too bad back in high school, with sports teams and stuff, but once we graduated a lotta the guys moved away, or they got all focused on their farms, and stuff...” He shrugged. “Doesn’t help that I also got into a lotta fights in school. Didn’t really endear me to the local crowd. There’s only really one guy I wish I could get back in touch with...” He looked a little wistful at the thought, slowing to a stop next to a bus stop sign. It didn’t seem like there was a road nearby, though.

“Oh! Her name is Dolly! She’s an Engineer. I broke her window with my baseball. I offered to fix it, but she was like, if yew start fixin’ thangs, all th’ otha scouts will start thinkin they can fix thangs,” he put on a bad southern accent when he imitated her, despite the fact that he had a little southern twang of his own. “Which I guess is fair when you’re an Engineer and there’s a buncha complex machinery you have to fix.”