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@meet-the-scrapper79
Intro post :/
Uh, hey. Iâm Scrapper, Scraps for short. Miss Pauling wanted me to make this for⊠uh, communication purposes I suppose. Yall can ask me stuff. Or not. I donât care.
//hiiii itâs zenith!! My main blog is @zeniththesilly but this is my tf2 oc blog!! Feel free to ask anything, just know that the mod for this blog is a minor, so nothing too weird yeah?
Right now Galen was having some big feelings, however he didn't know how to help himself express them aside from crying. He didn't know why everything felt exhausting right now but everyone else was busy and Medic was starting to run out of ideas on how to comfort him.
The kiddo was curled up on the floor sobbing and wings fluffed up to hide himself. Medic was very out of his depth on how to help his child.
âUh, hey kid. You uh⊠you doinâ alright?â
(Scrapper stood awkwardly nearby, shoving obviously token medical supplies into her pockets, shooting Galen a look of concern)
The hybrid continued to cry and hide in himself, it looked rather pitiful and Medic seemed to be disappointed in himself for not being able to help.
"He's been crying for awhile now. I've tried to cheer him up or at least calm him down but nothing seems to work..."
He looks at his child sadly just wanting to understand why he was so upset.
(Scrapper sat down next to him, pulling a small butterscotch candy out from one of her many pockets and placing it next to Galen as a quiet offering)
"Mm..?"
He peeks his head out from his arms. His face was red and stained with tears while his eyes were irritated and puffy from all the crying. His vision landed on the candy and a small noise came out of him.
Instead of picking up the butterscotch he crawled slightly and plopped himself right beside Scrapper, still hiding a bit but he wasn't sobbing his eyes out anymore.
Medic didn't dare move, honestly he looked extremely grateful and relieved his child started calming down.
(Scrapper looked down at Galen)
âRough day, huh?â
(She gently patted his head)
"Everything feels exast.. ex... Mmm"
He got a little frustrated bring unable to say what he wanted to before curling a bit more on himself.
"Tiring and I dunno why!"
The kid softly huffed and looked at the ground as he drew small circles in the ground with his finger.
"Exhausted. Yeah I get it."
(Scrapper looked down at the floor)
"People have rough days. That's life. It'll get better. It always does, kid."
(Open role-play)
[ #đïžObserving you from afar, taking frantic notes on a very thick and worn down notebook as if he was rushing to squeeze a history out of you. ]
(Scrapper squinted, noticing the journalist from afar. She was out, leaning against a tree, holding what looked like a photograph)
âI can see ya, you know that?â
(Her eyes were tired. For once in her life she wasnât fidgeting)
Again and again and again, he kept on being noticed, in being caught. Why did he keep making an effort to try and hide? It was fruitless, useless and cowardly. Perhaps his mother was right about all the ways his life would've been better if he had been born with a single positive trait.
He slowly stood up, he might as well just go and ask. It would be ridiculous, even insulting to hope an act of bravery would be enough to bury all his past cowardice. And yet, here he is, walking towards the person with the picture between their fingers.
â Apologies. I'm reporting on the war and by extension the mercenaries. I don't know why I bother trying to be discreet. â
He doesn't mention the photo of what he can only assume is a passed one; no one admires a photo with such a furrowed brow unless they're holding back tears. He is, however, glancing intently at it.
(Scrapper looked back down at the photograph. It was old, tattered and dirtied at the edges. It was of a young woman, tanned with sun-bleached waves of hair and a warm smile.)
"Pretty, isn't she? Loveliest lady I'd ever met."
(She looked down at it, eyes swimming with sorrowful nostalgia.)
//ooc but I was tryna draw like teen Scraps in the modern day for an au but then realized I was just drawing myself halfway through ;-;
Right now Galen was having some big feelings, however he didn't know how to help himself express them aside from crying. He didn't know why everything felt exhausting right now but everyone else was busy and Medic was starting to run out of ideas on how to comfort him.
The kiddo was curled up on the floor sobbing and wings fluffed up to hide himself. Medic was very out of his depth on how to help his child.
âUh, hey kid. You uh⊠you doinâ alright?â
(Scrapper stood awkwardly nearby, shoving obviously token medical supplies into her pockets, shooting Galen a look of concern)
The hybrid continued to cry and hide in himself, it looked rather pitiful and Medic seemed to be disappointed in himself for not being able to help.
"He's been crying for awhile now. I've tried to cheer him up or at least calm him down but nothing seems to work..."
He looks at his child sadly just wanting to understand why he was so upset.
(Scrapper sat down next to him, pulling a small butterscotch candy out from one of her many pockets and placing it next to Galen as a quiet offering)
"Mm..?"
He peeks his head out from his arms. His face was red and stained with tears while his eyes were irritated and puffy from all the crying. His vision landed on the candy and a small noise came out of him.
Instead of picking up the butterscotch he crawled slightly and plopped himself right beside Scrapper, still hiding a bit but he wasn't sobbing his eyes out anymore.
Medic didn't dare move, honestly he looked extremely grateful and relieved his child started calming down.
(Scrapper looked down at Galen)
âRough day, huh?â
(She gently patted his head)
I should probably eat sumthinâ. Been holed up in my workshop all day workinâ on stuff. Forgot to eat breakfast tooâŠ. Iâll eat when I finish this project.
Right now Galen was having some big feelings, however he didn't know how to help himself express them aside from crying. He didn't know why everything felt exhausting right now but everyone else was busy and Medic was starting to run out of ideas on how to comfort him.
The kiddo was curled up on the floor sobbing and wings fluffed up to hide himself. Medic was very out of his depth on how to help his child.
âUh, hey kid. You uh⊠you doinâ alright?â
(Scrapper stood awkwardly nearby, shoving obviously token medical supplies into her pockets, shooting Galen a look of concern)
The hybrid continued to cry and hide in himself, it looked rather pitiful and Medic seemed to be disappointed in himself for not being able to help.
"He's been crying for awhile now. I've tried to cheer him up or at least calm him down but nothing seems to work..."
He looks at his child sadly just wanting to understand why he was so upset.
(Scrapper sat down next to him, pulling a small butterscotch candy out from one of her many pockets and placing it next to Galen as a quiet offering)
Right now Galen was having some big feelings, however he didn't know how to help himself express them aside from crying. He didn't know why everything felt exhausting right now but everyone else was busy and Medic was starting to run out of ideas on how to comfort him.
The kiddo was curled up on the floor sobbing and wings fluffed up to hide himself. Medic was very out of his depth on how to help his child.
âUh, hey kid. You uh⊠you doinâ alright?â
(Scrapper stood awkwardly nearby, shoving obviously token medical supplies into her pockets, shooting Galen a look of concern)
âEllo! So, uh⊠flowers, yeah? My old uhh⊠friend used to love marigolds. Got any? I miss herâŠ
-Scrapper
@meet-the-scrapper79
(Her face softens)
"Sure...how many? You can take the entire batch if you like?"
Thanks :)
A massive crate of daffodils was dropped on her door. âFrom: Kamiâ
@the-chemist-tf2
(Scrapperâs eyes grew misty with tears. She carried the crate inside, mouthing silent thanks)
(Open role-play)
[ #đïžObserving you from afar, taking frantic notes on a very thick and worn down notebook as if he was rushing to squeeze a history out of you. ]
(Scrapper squinted, noticing the journalist from afar. She was out, leaning against a tree, holding what looked like a photograph)
âI can see ya, you know that?â
(Her eyes were tired. For once in her life she wasnât fidgeting)
[open rp]
(You find a cultist in the freezer of the blu base curled up in a ball, blood is evident on his hands... His dagger is scattered across the room softly glowing
He's crying small but audible cries could be heard from him.)
(Scrapper walked in nervously, shoving supplies she had very clearly stolen into her pockets)
"Uhh... I-uh... well, the war's at a uh... stalemate so I was just... snoopin' in y'all's base l-lookin' for supplies to uh, borrow... you alright or....?"
(He looks up wiping his eyes, before gesturing towards a box in the corner)
S-Stuff's there...
âYeah well, Iâm no medic but you donât look too good. The medbayâs empty. Everyoneâs out. I should probably⊠well, youâre not on my team, but nobody wins if you die at this point in the match.â
(Scrapper reaches out a hand to help him up)
(He takes the hand)
Thanks...
(Scrapper led him to the medbay, getting a kit and pulling out bandages)
âSo uh⊠what happened?â
This is from my TF2 OC Rp blog @margaret-the-all-rounder (I just created a new blog for her, I apologize.)
"I was kinda just walkin' around - What are you up to? What's all this stuff?"
Scrapper looked up from the floor of her workshop, halfway done with disassembling what looked like a half melted car engine
âOH, didnt see ya there!â She looked back down at the engine
âGonna be honest, Iâm not quite sure what I do myself. Miss Pauling called it weapons maintenance and alteration, but all I really do is take apart old machines and the mercs guns do shit that guns⊠shouldnât do. Pass me that welding torch over there? Anâ b careful witâ those bullet casings. They might explode. Or light on fire. Donât remember which.â
Margaret watched and observed the Scrapper, curiosity as to what she was working on with mechanics, and figured this wouldn't be a bad time to get to know a fellow teammate - She really wasn't an asshole like many others on the team - If they were all gonna be stuck together, may as well make the most of it.
"Weapons help, eh?" She asked as she assisted the scrapper, handing her the welding torch she had requested. "I haven't seen nothing too out of the ordinary with my gun." She responded, looking over at the bullet casings the scrapper warned her about. "Far as I know, I have a pretty damn normal gun."
âYeah, I tend to experiment with other mercâs weapons. Shoulda seen how far the Sniper flew when he used those detonating bullets! Knock back on those things is lethal!â
She barked out a laugh, motioning for Margaret to hand her a tin of screws
âAnyways, Iâve successfully increased most gunâs ammo capacity. Working on improving their reload rate.â
The metal Scrapper was working on sparked, and one of the sparks hit her hair, starting a small fire. She quickly patted it out with a startled smack.
âShould probably start wearing goggles or somthinâ..â
Margaret couldn't help but chuckle at her teammate's neurotic behavior - Something she could relate to, even if it was less so.
"I didn't know the Sniper had some cool bullets like that... Surprised with how much he's always on about his 'professional standards'..." Margaret then handed The Scrapper the box of nails.
"I reckon I don't need much in the way of goggles... That damned respawn machine keeps making my eyes worse."
Scrapper shuddered
"Don't remind me 'bout the damn respawn machine. Hate it. Hate it so much. I see... things in the moments before I.... I fully come back."
"Don't we all?" Margaret asked in a very matter-of-fact way. She had heard of the Medic talkin' about accidents and things on the other side. She had seen things on the other side. As much as she was a chatterbox, a talkative bitch, she never spoke to a single person about what she saw. She talked about how much she hated the respawn machine all day and night, but never why, never what she saw. The one thing about her that wasn't out in the open for everyone to see.
"You a support? I pray ya don't die that much..." She bit her lip, the prayer being more a good faith offering than a real thing. Margaret was a full-blown atheist after ending up in prison, and the things she saw on the other side... There was nothin' religious about it... Just horror and cold science. There was more to life than death, but maybe that shit should never happen.
"I heard you're ramblin' to chemist earlier... You lived through the war?" She then asked. "I was born right after that shit. Baby boom and all dat." She sighed, clearly just happy she had someone to talk to. She could spend hours talkin' here with Scrapper, she reckoned. "But wars never stop. All those teens then got shipped to Korea... Fuckin' war just like this one. Stalemate that never ends. And now Vietnam..." She sighed, closing her eyes, thinking of the life she could've had - An anti-war hippie, not a war-torn mercenary she now was. "It's bullshit. All war is." She chuckled. "Ya wanna know somethin' funny? I was once a pacifist. Reeeeeealll good that shit did me." That bitterness, that toughness returned to her tone.
Scrapper barked out a humorless laugh
âYeah. The army was a shithole. I donât usually mean to bother people witâ my life story. Frankâs bit too much that night and got a lil loose-lipped.â
She stared back down at the metal, her hands no longer fidgeting
âItâs.. itâs terrible. I got out of it⊠for a little while. Lived on the streets, not bothering anyone. It was rough, but at least it was a quieter life.â
She sighed
âBut people like me and you⊠the world just wonât let us live. Thatâs why Iâm here.â
She glanced up at her workshop, old weapons and ammunition scattered everywhere
âFighting and dying everyday just for a roof above my head.â
[open rp]
(You find a cultist in the freezer of the blu base curled up in a ball, blood is evident on his hands... His dagger is scattered across the room softly glowing
He's crying small but audible cries could be heard from him.)
(Scrapper walked in nervously, shoving supplies she had very clearly stolen into her pockets)
"Uhh... I-uh... well, the war's at a uh... stalemate so I was just... snoopin' in y'all's base l-lookin' for supplies to uh, borrow... you alright or....?"
(He looks up wiping his eyes, before gesturing towards a box in the corner)
S-Stuff's there...
âYeah well, Iâm no medic but you donât look too good. The medbayâs empty. Everyoneâs out. I should probably⊠well, youâre not on my team, but nobody wins if you die at this point in the match.â
(Scrapper reaches out a hand to help him up)
[open rp]
(You find a cultist in the freezer of the blu base curled up in a ball, blood is evident on his hands... His dagger is scattered across the room softly glowing
He's crying small but audible cries could be heard from him.)
(Scrapper walked in nervously, shoving supplies she had very clearly stolen into her pockets)
"Uhh... I-uh... well, the war's at a uh... stalemate so I was just... snoopin' in y'all's base l-lookin' for supplies to uh, borrow... you alright or....?"
This is from my TF2 OC Rp blog @margaret-the-all-rounder (I just created a new blog for her, I apologize.)
"I was kinda just walkin' around - What are you up to? What's all this stuff?"
Scrapper looked up from the floor of her workshop, halfway done with disassembling what looked like a half melted car engine
âOH, didnt see ya there!â She looked back down at the engine
âGonna be honest, Iâm not quite sure what I do myself. Miss Pauling called it weapons maintenance and alteration, but all I really do is take apart old machines and the mercs guns do shit that guns⊠shouldnât do. Pass me that welding torch over there? Anâ b careful witâ those bullet casings. They might explode. Or light on fire. Donât remember which.â
Margaret watched and observed the Scrapper, curiosity as to what she was working on with mechanics, and figured this wouldn't be a bad time to get to know a fellow teammate - She really wasn't an asshole like many others on the team - If they were all gonna be stuck together, may as well make the most of it.
"Weapons help, eh?" She asked as she assisted the scrapper, handing her the welding torch she had requested. "I haven't seen nothing too out of the ordinary with my gun." She responded, looking over at the bullet casings the scrapper warned her about. "Far as I know, I have a pretty damn normal gun."
âYeah, I tend to experiment with other mercâs weapons. Shoulda seen how far the Sniper flew when he used those detonating bullets! Knock back on those things is lethal!â
She barked out a laugh, motioning for Margaret to hand her a tin of screws
âAnyways, Iâve successfully increased most gunâs ammo capacity. Working on improving their reload rate.â
The metal Scrapper was working on sparked, and one of the sparks hit her hair, starting a small fire. She quickly patted it out with a startled smack.
âShould probably start wearing goggles or somthinâ..â
Margaret couldn't help but chuckle at her teammate's neurotic behavior - Something she could relate to, even if it was less so.
"I didn't know the Sniper had some cool bullets like that... Surprised with how much he's always on about his 'professional standards'..." Margaret then handed The Scrapper the box of nails.
"I reckon I don't need much in the way of goggles... That damned respawn machine keeps making my eyes worse."
Scrapper shuddered
"Don't remind me 'bout the damn respawn machine. Hate it. Hate it so much. I see... things in the moments before I.... I fully come back."
Yo mercs! And others workin for Mann Co!
If ya could pick a different codename or nickname for yaself, what would it be? Somethin like Tempo or Pulse or Rook, stuff like dat.
Bonus question, if ya had ta assign codenames to ya team (nine main mercs), what would ya pick?
Daffodil.
Ya'd pick daffodil?
Why that?
A⊠friend a while ago liked the flower. Just to remember her.
