blusollyjd started following you
Ach, you bezher behave yourself. I am varning you, now, Herr Soldat.
I will have you know I am not a GODDAMN CHILD who needs to be told to BEHAVE. And I absolutely CAN take every last RED out with my crockets if I haveā¦
āFINE THEN! YOU ASKED FOR IT! PREPARE TO BE EXTREMELY BORED! WHEN IāM DONE WITH THEM, THE RED TEAMāLL BE NOTHING BUT EIGHT PILES OF GIBS, AND YOU WONāT HAVE CRAP TO DISSECT IN THAT CREEPY LITTLE LAB OF YOURS! SCREEEAMING EEAGGGLLESSSSSS!
Ā EāErā¦ Herr Soldatā¦ you cannot be serious vhen you say zat. Honestly, zhere ist no vay you can kill ze Heavy, ze Soldat und Demomanā along vith Schentries, und everyzing else ovah zhere.
ā¦. *He lets out a long, hallow sigh, before pinching the bridge of his nose* Mein Gott en Himmelā¦ He vill NEFFER learn, vill he?
āOF COURSE I CAN! YOU OBVIOUSLY HAVE NEVER SEEN A REAL AMERICAN FIGHT.ā
*underneath his helmet, his eyes flick across the moat to the RED Fort. True, proposing to fight himself is ridiculous and suicidal, but heās just crazy enough to be absolutely sure he can do it. Itās also the best way to keep a particular individual on the other side safe without arousing suspicion.*
Ā Idly walking behind the man, the Medic slowly clapped his gloved hands together, creating a soft noise of mock approval. He couldnāt help but roll his eyes at the comment.Ā āOh, ja, I haff neffer seen ein single Amerikaner fight. You are amazing for guessing zat.ā
He sees the man looking across the moat, actually considering this. Groaning, agitated, he walked up behind the man and tapped him, hard, thrice upon the shoulder.āVhy not do zat zing you alvays do. Vhat ist itā¦ ārocket jumpingā?āĀ Well, if the man wanted to turn himself into a soupy mass of Gibs, who was he to stop that?
āDonāt knock it ātill you have tried it, Kraut.ā
He grinned in spite of himself. Despite the inherent danger of launching oneself into the air via high explosives. J.D. loved doing it, just as muchā¦ or maybe even a little bit moreā¦ than blowing REDs to tiny bits. It was like flying- the closest heād ever be to being an eagle unless there was some truth to all that reincarnation bullshit.
Of course, it would be safer if heād just wear the Gunboats heād obtained some time ago, but he never did anymore. Heād just stopped wearing them one day, and refused to say why or even so much as address the matter.
Ā The usually peaceful, non-biased Medic growled at the name āKrautā. It seemed the Soldier was one ofĀ the only ones to ruffle his feathers these days. Sucking in a long, slow, steady breath, he held it for a moment whilst counting to ten. He couldnāt lose his temper. If he did, and sliced the crass manās head off, gleefully with his bonesaw, the rude American would only Respawn shortly after. There was no fun in that.
Intently studying the Blue clad maniac, the Medic crossed his arms over his chest. He shook his head slowly, as if disappointed with how blatantly unconcerned his teammate was with how much work he, his teamās Medic, would have to go through trying to piece the man back together again. āUnd vhy ze sudden urge to kill zhem? I know zhey are planningk somezing, but I zink it vould to our advantage if ve zust vaited ein bit und notified ze vrest of zeteam. Do you remember vhen you ambushed zhem ze last time, alone? Ze beast vomam yelled at all of us.ā
"You're the one who brought it up, you know. Do NOT get me all wound up and then tell me not to do anything. Jesus."
Drawing a cigar from his hip pouch, J.D. clenched his teeth around it, fingers drumming against the sleeve of his jacket restlessly. Things always came out of his mouth differently than the way he intended. Even so, though, he'd just been robbed of a perfectly decent excuse to be on the other side of the moat during ceasefire.
He despised sneaking around. He was no French-fried spook. He hated deception, and he never intentionally lied if he could help it. In battle, this meant charging directly into any given situation, rockets blazing, screaming at the top of his lungs. Anytime else, it meant he was going to be brutally, bluntly honest about everything, including his own feelings and opinions, to the point of having not even the most basic, rudimentary sense of tact. The only thing that ever kept him from normally uttering the pure, unvarnished truth was his own pride when it came to his tenderer, less macho thoughts on things.
But this... he couldn't be honest about this, not to anybody but himself and the other person involved. It could get everyone involved in bad trouble, especially considering what happened last time- maybe even his whole team, and despite whatever else he said, he did not want that. At all. His team didn't deserve that kind of heat, not even the field physician before him.
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