Well, howdy, pardner! @mostlypracticalengineering - Tumblr Blog

*waves*

@meet-the-blu-cultist

"Howdy!"

@meet-the-blu-cultist

meet-the-blu-cultist

(He quietly took out a pack of sunflower seeds, maybe out of curiosity or because he didn't want to die since he snuck into the RED base)

"Naw, you don't gotta do that none, I don't mess wit' BLUs long as they don't give me a reason to."

He pauses, then slowly leans forward in his seat, expression blank.

"You ain't spawn-campin' us, right?" he asks, tone deadly serious and maybe even threatening.

Then, he grins.

"Naw," he says, brighter now as he leans back in his seat, "y'all wouldn't do that none. Not after the lesson I taught one o' y'all last time you tried it."

Okay, ominous.

#what can i do for ya? (asks)#team fortress 2 #tf2 rp blog #tf2 ask blog #tf2 engineer

*waves*

@meet-the-blu-cultist

"Howdy!"

@meet-the-blu-cultist

Have you ever had any pets?

"I never had any of my own, but my father once had this German shepherd, and by God that was the stupidest dog I have ever seen in my life. You could put his kibble right in front of his face, point it out to him, an' he'd still take five minutes to find it, 'cause he weren't smart enough to figure out what you was tryin' to show him."

He stifles a laugh.

"That dog got in more howlin' fights wit' his own reflection than he did other dogs. Dad loved him to death, but, Christ, he was dumber'n a box o' rocks. Still, we was heartbroke when we eventually had to, y'know, send him back to his maker. 'Specially pa – he bawled about it for days, 'cause that dog was practically his best friend. Stupid as he was, he were still family."

#what can i do for ya? (asks)#team fortress 2 #tf2 rp blog #tf2 ask blog #tf2 engineer

Penis.

Hahahahahhaha sorry I'll go die now

Heavy sigh...

#cw suggestive #(i guess????)#what can i do for ya? (asks)#team fortress 2 #tf2 rp blog #tf2 ask blog #tf2 engineer

how did you feel about medic replacing your heart with a mega baboon one?

"Not an ideal outcome, for sure. I can feel my heartbeat in places I shouldn't be able to feel my heartbeat in," he says sullenly. "On the bright side, I don't even notice the pain anymore. ...Oohh, ow, now I do. Thanks for makin' me think about it."

herrhealer

“Yes, the sheer bulk of a mega baboon heart will do that to your chest cavity. Unfortunately, the human body simply wasn’t designed to accommodate it. I’ve ingeniously modified your bodies to be able to do so without compromising your other organs but I can’t help if if there are a few minor side effects anyways. Just be thankful that the ones you’re experiencing now are mild compared to the what you could’ve experienced if you did not have me as your doctor.”

“Rest assured that you will be fine, Engineer. The pain is nothing that can’t be managed with medication. Now. Shall I give you a prescription?”

He chuckles, rubbing at his chest a bit with one hand while waving dismissively with the other.

"Naw, I'll be alright, doc," he says, grinning at the Medic in a sort of goofy way, the way he does when he's no doubt about to say something insane. "I mean, heck, I cut my own hand off wit' nothin' but a Sawzall 'n' a belt, this ain't nothin' compared to that."

He sounds strangely proud of himself as he recounts that rather painful – and extremely messy – night he'd had in his workshop. Definitely wasn't the ideal way to fit himself with the Gunslinger, but, hey, it worked pretty well! And he didn't even bleed out!

"'Sides, long as I don't think about it none too hard, I don't even notice it. Y'all did a real bang-up job cuttin' me open, Sawbones."

herrhealer

“Ah, how could I forget the night that I found you lying unconscious in a pool of your own blood with a robot arm attached to a stump where your flesh was supposed to be?”

Medic, evidently ( or perhaps not, as he mused with a deceptively casual demeanor ) did not reminisce on the advent of the GUNSLINGER with as much fondness as his colleague. Don’t get him wrong: he was more than impressed by the skill and tenacity that Engineer exhibited then; and his weapon, for all the messiness behind its outfitting, came out wonderfully. He even admired it when all was said and done. But Herbert definitely would have much preferred to be the one to do the amputation and attach such a marvel of murderous mechanical design to his friend’s body. In fact, he should have been the one to do it. Metallic as the replacement arm was, it was still an arm — a limb that required the handling of someone who was an expert in the human body. That was undeniably MEDIC’S domain, and in his professional opinion it would have been far better if Engineer allowed the process to be done on his operating table, under a practiced hand and a controlled environment where blood loss and health risks could’ve been left to a minimum. And how fun would it have been to handle a robotic prosthetic for the first time? All in the name of scientific advancement and killing their enemies too? He’ll never get to know now unless Engineer somehow lost another one of his limbs.

And who did Dell think came to deal with the aftermath? All the blood on the floor that needed mopping up, also not to mention the recovery of the unconscious Conagher himself? It certainly wasn’t going to be any of the others, even if they did happen to be awake around that time.

That truly was the night that Medic realized that not even the level-headed Engineer had the sense to not commit reckless acts that’d inevitably lead him to the infirmary.

The revelation brought him equal parts exasperation and elation, but when his agitation soon faded what remained was excitement for the prospect of working with such a soft-spoken, amicable man who bore the same disregard for sanity as he did. That, combined with his comparable level of innovative genius, filled him with a newfound appreciation for the heir of Fred Conagher. It even comforted him to know that this shared inclination for the unorthodox meant that he wouldn’t be rejected by Dell, as he was by many others within the scientific community.

It brought him joy, in a sense, to know that he found a perfect intellectual equal and lab partner within Dell Conagher and he was very grateful for it.

Herbert smiled when complimented by the other; a nice exception to the otherwise disturbed reactions that the Über operation apparently got out of their other colleagues.

“I can always count on you and Misha to appreciate my work.”

He responded with no small amount of pleasure.

“It would still be easier for you to manage the pain altogether but if you’d rather tough it out then I won’t stop you. I only offered out of concern for your well-being but I’m sure that it’s nothing that you can’t handle anyways! Given all that we go through in this job it seems almost ridiculous to be held back by something so negligible.”

"Hey, your work's a helluvathing," Dell replies fondly. "Ain't nothin' about it I don't find damned impressive. An' fascinatin'."

God, weren't that the truth? He still remembered the awe with which he'd regarded the Medic's newly-implemented Übercharge when he and the Heavy had first taken it out into the battlefield. It was a beautiful, remarkable shard of innovation, the ability to render a man invincible to nearly anything a man could think up being something that sent a feeling of awe – and maybe just a slight twinge of jealousy that he had not come up with it first – blooming in the Engineer's chest (alongside the mildly uncomfortable thumping of a mega baboon heart that was implemented so that he could experience the effects of an Über first hand).

Most people thought the Conaghers to be insane. His grandfather had built immortality machines and cut his own hand off (though of course Dell thanked him for the latter invention), his father constructed contraptions made solely to turn a man into swiss cheese and found a hobby in mechanically altering vehicles and tools and whatever else he could find to be more effective, if not dangerous (a process known to most outside the family as "Conagherizing", Dell thought with a chuckle), and that wasn't even counting the sheer insanity and sadism his brothers got up to.

But Medic was not one of those people, and the Engineer was glad to find someone so willing to share in the beauty of technological advancement with him as he was. Sometimes, he wished he had gone to the doctor to replace his hand, but he'd just been so excited and eager to get it up and running!

Ah, well. Maybe he could give him a demonstration of how the whole thing worked one day – maybe his BLU counterpart would make for a good participant, as he shared the same mechanical hand which Dell concealed under his glove even now, the same wires and connections which allowed it to function. Stolen knowledge, of course.

"I'll be alright," he reassured the doctor. Maybe he was being stubborn, but, eh, what the hell. He was committed. "I'm one tough buck, an' besides, it ain't nothin' to worry about. You can't keep a cowboy down!"

#(ooc:) baby blog's first content warning 💔#cw homophobia #cw f slur #what can i do for ya? (asks)#team fortress 2 #tf2 rp blog #tf2 ask blog #tf2 engineer

How come you won't just admit how you feel about Medic and Soldier?

Soldier isn't NEARLY as resistant as you are.

"Well, Soldier don't got no shame, an' he can say anything and nobody'll take it seriously. And, it's 'cause...It's 'cause if I say it, it'll become real."

He frowns, hands curling into tense fists. He bows his head to hide the expression on his face, muttering something under his breath.

"Folks...Folks what work for this company, they don't seem to mind when two guys fraternize," he croaks. "That...That ain't what I'm worried about. What I worry about is everyone outside-a our li'l circle."

cw // period-typical homophobia, hate speech, usage of the f-slur – get ready for a Lore Drop

ooc // open RP, go nuts

What a calm, peaceful night at the RED base. The moon is shining, there's neither a Soldier nor Scout stirring, really, it's about as lovely as a night you could ask for. Peaceful and quiet. Except for one thing...

CLANG!

"Oh, you son of a bitch! I'm gonna lay you out!"

At this fine hour, likely sometime past midnight, the RED Team's Engineer has decided that this is the perfect time to finally replace the failing brake parts on one of the team trucks. While it's calm and nice just about everywhere else, in Dell Conagher's automotive garage it may as well be war.

He's been beating on a stuck rear brake drum for the better part of five minutes, and as the rubber mallet clutched in his hand flies out of his grasp for surely the fourth time in that five minutes, he bites out a series of curses more suited for his older brothers as he kicks the drum furiously.

"Stupid piece of shit," he growls. "God, I hate these damn trucks, weren't never a bigger piece of shit than these damn trucks–"

Clearly, it's going well.

the-chemist-tf2

Ever seen a Nazi Tiger tank? Fuckers needed a pit stop every two hours, I tell you.

"Isn't technology amazing?"

This sarcastic remark, coming from the 'I love technology' man.

#(ooc:) dell conagher: member of the world's worst love angle #(ooc cont.) (it's a love angle bc soldier and medic have a strictly professional relationship. they just both really like dell)#what can i do for ya? (asks)#team fortress 2 #tf2 rp blog #tf2 ask blog #tf2 engineer

DELL uhm whatever the fuck your last name is CONAGHER???!!!! YOU SLYY DOG!! GETTING WITH MEDIC AANNDD SOLDIER?? YOU ARE EITHER INSANE OR ONE LUCKY MAN! GOD SPEED I'LL PREPAR 2BRAINS 1 BRAWN WEDDING. IMMEDIATELY

ooc // open RP, go nuts

What a calm, peaceful night at the RED base. The moon is shining, there's neither a Soldier nor Scout stirring, really, it's about as lovely as a night you could ask for. Peaceful and quiet. Except for one thing...

CLANG!

"Oh, you son of a bitch! I'm gonna lay you out!"

At this fine hour, likely sometime past midnight, the RED Team's Engineer has decided that this is the perfect time to finally replace the failing brake parts on one of the team trucks. While it's calm and nice just about everywhere else, in Dell Conagher's automotive garage it may as well be war.

He's been beating on a stuck rear brake drum for the better part of five minutes, and as the rubber mallet clutched in his hand flies out of his grasp for surely the fourth time in that five minutes, he bites out a series of curses more suited for his older brothers as he kicks the drum furiously.

"Stupid piece of shit," he growls. "God, I hate these damn trucks, weren't never a bigger piece of shit than these damn trucks–"

Clearly, it's going well.

Didn't really know how to start this off but ohh well!!! Lets go!!

Carefully peeking through the door way of the garage, Purple tinted lenses locked onto the other texan, before slowly creeping On closer(creeping as best as a six foot eight inches person can do).. The intruder walked right up behind Dell, watching him mess and meddle about with the breaks. Closer.. Closer..

And then..

“GOTCHA!”

Attack! They'd wrap their arms around the Engineer and lift him up at least a foot in the air definitely squeezing tight enough to cause a few joins to pop in his back... Owch

He's in the middle of trying to pry the wretched brake drum off with the Gunslinger, muttering under his breath as the mechanical limb clicks and shudders in effort.

"C'mon, c'mon–" The drum pops off and clatters to the ground, narrowly missing his foot in the process. "Oh, sh– Ha! Gotcha!"

He goes to kick the drum, presumably as some sort of display of dominance towards the inanimate object, when he's abruptly whisked off his feet.

He yelps, a very undignified sort of sound as his feet kick about in the air, before grunting as his back pops from the grasp. Honestly, he needed a good popping of the back, but he's too distracted by the fact that he has no idea what's going on to appreciate it.

"Wha– What the–" He squirms a bit, trying to turn his head to see who's grabbed him, but being unable to do so – those welding goggles don't do much for his peripheral vision. "Boy, you better unhand me or you're fixin' to see me enact my second amendment right–!"

That voice's awfully familiar, though, he thinks.

Can't wait for him to immediately retract his threat.

“No can do Bubba! Youve been workin to hard, it's time fer a sit out!”

The intruder steps back from the truck some, before finally setting down the smaller man, dusting off his hands, and immediately covering up the others goggles. Wow. Annoying 101.

“Guess whoooo?”

They asked, half giggling through their words as they quite honestly just toyed with the other

He ducks away and whirls around as soon as his boots hit the ground, ready to show this intruder some fifty kinds of hell–

Oh. Wait– "...Maynard??" That can't be right, he just...

He pauses, just for a second. To this intruder, it's no more than a couple second's pause – he was a fast thinker. So, let's see here...

He'd gotten off the phone with his older brother no less than two hours prior, hadn't been informed of any visits. Both him and Zed were busy with...things. Them being here was impossible.

Hypothesis 1: Could be a Spy. But Spies aren't stupid enough to break into his garage, let alone grab him out of nowhere. Conclusion: This was really his brother. But there was something different about 'em...

Hypothesis 2: Interdimensional shenanigans. That knock on the head he'd got really screwed things up, made him blip into other places. Conclusion: He must be mid-blip right now. Damn. That means he's going to have to get that brake drum off again...

"Maynard! Uh, jeez, sorry for threatenin' ya just now!" he says cheerfully. He'll take the careful route for now – 'act as if nothing is amiss until he's no longer able to' it is! "You scared the heck outta me! What're you doin' 'round here so late?"

"GhHeh— surrpiisen I was in town! And I figured since ya haven't returned my calls in a few years— is stop by and see ya!”

he picked Dell back up again as If he was a child, jesus how strong is this guy?

"How have ya been Bubba? That promotion working good for ya? Yer coworkers have been treating you well too, yea?”

they set the other down after a realization that they probably shouldn't be holding their what.. 32+ year old siblings like theyre a toddler

"eeheh..! Golly, sh'orry— I'm getting wayyin over my head— Gah! I'm just too happy ta see ya!"

As far as interactions with interdimensional versions of people he knows goes, getting aggressively scooped up by his brothers despite being 39 whole years old is, shockingly, not that odd to him.

What is odd is this talk of promotions and phone calls – he'd never ignore a call from family! Meaning...Oh, dear. He doesn't need 11 PhDs to know what THAT means.

"I's glad to see ya, too, May," he says. He's gonna have to figure out how to let them down easy, ain't he? "Seein' ya really brightened my day!" Not untrue. Even if he was from somewhere else, he was still technically family.

“bfhuheehe— well I'm just as glad to see you!”

Hed let out another dumb laugh, setting a hand on his brothers shoulder

"Now thenn.. Ya didn't answer me!— is the team treating you well? Nobody I gottaa.. yhknow... Take care of?”

Now then.. If This May is ANYTHING like engineers actual Maynard— there is NO doubt that he means it— he can and will fight tooth, nail,(and bolt) for his baby brother.

“Heh. Bet Zed would be jealous of me getting a kill in.. Works been slow lately..”

"Naw, I got things handled 'round here. Anybody messes wit' me, I got plenty a' gun what'll show 'em what a big mistake they's makin'. An' that goes fer anybody not on this here team, too."

Just ask the BLU Team's Engineer, he thinks. Stupid bastard.

"Sounds about right,. 'Bout Zed, I mean," he says. His Zed was the same way. Though, he tended to outsource... "Maybe y'all'll get lucky. One thing you can count on, there's always someone what needs takin' care of."

“Damn right there is! in fact, recently someone stole zeds jar of teeth— and uh.. *Teuface has been pissin everyone off recently— heh..”

hed clap his hands together and smile down at Dell, leaning down so they were level with each other and— Oh jesus Christ dude. Your goggles. Maynard your goggles are too fucking bright.

“heard yer mouth a mile down the hall, do ya mind showing me what's been making ya curse like a sailor?"

It's okay. Dell's welding goggles are so dark, it's a miracle he can see anything. Seriously. I don't know how he sees anything with them on, it should be studied.

"Jeez, sounds like a real hell of a time..."

He cocks his head, glancing back over at the project currently sitting behind him.

"Oh, yeah. I's doin' brake work on one o' our trucks. Damned brake drum won't come off, an' as everyone knows, when one don't come off, you gotta beat the hell out of it 'til it does."

Wise words.

“Huh... Well.. Lemme see dat.”

he knelt down to inspect the break drum, tilting his head off. To the side as his goggles gave a very persistent click, click, click, click. Running some kind of Diagnostic

For a second,it almost looks like he knows what to do! But In dumbass fashion, he instead clicks his tongue and ignores the diagnostic and instead suggests;

“Have ya tried pourin acid on it? Thats what I do whenever I can't get something to work..”

Ohhh my God bruh hes a fucking dumbass.

"Hmmm. So, n-no, we ain't gon' do that."

Okay, at least try to sound a little less thrown.

"I gots this other one off" – he gestures to the one from prior (which I definitely did not forget about, causing a mild continuity error) that lies on the floor – "so as long as I keep tryin', I think it'll work out fine. Percussive maintenance."

“Alright.. What about bein nice to it?"

he mused, tapping the drum and pulling his. Glove off to give it a small little tug with his own hand

“Zed sumtimes talks. T' the respawn when it starts actin up.”

He gave it a harsher pull after a moment, giving a frown.

“Theyve beenuh.. Actin strange ever since last. Respawn..”

he'll admit, He doesn't really want to mention how.. Odd. Zed has been acting ever since she got out the respawn. The constant paranoid— the breakdowns. And the times she'd just.. Blank. But its been getting worse, and hell, seeing your siblings act like that? Knowing what they do and how they normally areM it just aint something you can carry on alone. He quickly shook his head, sitting back on his haunches.

“What about oil? Have ya tried that yet to loosen it?"

#conversatin' (reblog interactions)#(ooc:) dell when someone even remotely similar to someone he cares about is Experiencing Horrors

Instinctively, Dell gives Maynard a careful, comforting pat on the shoulder. He doesn't even think – it's what he'd always do with his Maynard when he seemed upset. It always worked a charm for him, too, especially considering how Zed rarely did things like that.

I don't like seein' people I care about upset, he thinks. He ain't MY brother, but he's still my brother. Hope it don't give me away, or something equally as suboptimal.

"I tried some," he says after a minute. "Didn't work none too well. I think I got some other stuff layin' around, though, maybe there's somethin' what'll make it come off better?"

"Boy, whoever Soldier just came complainin' to me about is fixin' to get themselves a new man-made behind. He is NOT a happy camper."

“..wasn’t me. Uh- probably Scout. Scout’s really annoying, you know?”

(Gunner claims, sweating profusely.)

Unfortunately, the Engineer is a very hard man to fool.

"What did you do."

Oh, dear.

(Gunner feels his heart SINK.)

“I didn’t do anything! All I said was that the trombone sucked! And- And that he should get someone to pour stuff into a bowl for him!”

(As if THAT would help his case.)

"Boy, way I hear it, you tell a feller his hobbies ain't shit an' then you insinuate he ain't trustworthy," he says incredulously. "How's that a way to treat a man?"

Friendly reminder that this is the same man that tortured someone for the love of the game for the crime of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Now I got one real upset Yankee on my hands an' yer out here actin' like it weren't a situation that called fer some politeness. How'd you feel, someone came 'round an' did that to you? I oughta lay you out!"

He's not even mad. He's disappointed. Which, in my opinion, is so much worse.

(Gunner doesn’t say anything. He feels like a kid getting scolded by his father for being a moron. He wants to defend himself, but he doesn’t feel like getting into more trouble for once.)

(Which, he’d felt feel like crap when if he had been told that.)

“..sorry.”

(He finally chokes out.)

He sighs heavily. Maybe he got a little heated...

"That's alright," he says softly. "I know how talkin' to Solly can be, sometimes. He's damned stubborn, ain't your fault. I jus'–"

He runs a hand down his face.

"I don't like seein' folks I care about bein' upset. 'Specially when it's 'cause of what some other folk said." He offers a slight smile. "I's, uh...I's sorry for gettin' upset like that. He just, uh..."

He means a lot to me, he thinks. He means the world. I don't like seeing him hurt.

"He's a good man. A good friend. Y'all jus' gotta work wit' his whole 'lead poisonin', stubborn as a mule' thing a bit."

“Yeah. I get it.”

(But Gunner only feels like he’s saying more just to not have someone mad at him.)

“I’m glad you care.”

(He doesn’t mean it to be so rude, but it comes off that way anyways, doesn’t it?)

(Doesn’t it?)

“Uh- Look. I’m sorry. Just.. mm.”

(He shakes his head, walking off.)

#conversatin' (reblog interactions)#(ooc:) he loves that guy a lot chatters. It's diabolical /pos

Engie frowns. He fears he's been too harsh with this one...

Youre Sickening. God damnit

When's the helmet party wedding. Ill bring cake....... And flags...... American ones...

He sputters like an old truck trying to start in the winter.

"I– I– Um– Wha–" He stammers a bit more. "Wuh– W-Wedding?? Huh?? I– I ain't...I ain't gettin' married–!"

He rubs his face, like that'll somehow bring some clarity.

"A-And why– Why American flags, I d– ..." Realization. "...'M not– We ain't– I ain't–"

#what can i do for ya? (asks)#team fortress 2 #tf2 rp blog #tf2 ask blog #tf2 engineer

ooc // open RP, go nuts

What a calm, peaceful night at the RED base. The moon is shining, there's neither a Soldier nor Scout stirring, really, it's about as lovely as a night you could ask for. Peaceful and quiet. Except for one thing...

CLANG!

"Oh, you son of a bitch! I'm gonna lay you out!"

At this fine hour, likely sometime past midnight, the RED Team's Engineer has decided that this is the perfect time to finally replace the failing brake parts on one of the team trucks. While it's calm and nice just about everywhere else, in Dell Conagher's automotive garage it may as well be war.

He's been beating on a stuck rear brake drum for the better part of five minutes, and as the rubber mallet clutched in his hand flies out of his grasp for surely the fourth time in that five minutes, he bites out a series of curses more suited for his older brothers as he kicks the drum furiously.

"Stupid piece of shit," he growls. "God, I hate these damn trucks, weren't never a bigger piece of shit than these damn trucks–"

Clearly, it's going well.

Didn't really know how to start this off but ohh well!!! Lets go!!

Carefully peeking through the door way of the garage, Purple tinted lenses locked onto the other texan, before slowly creeping On closer(creeping as best as a six foot eight inches person can do).. The intruder walked right up behind Dell, watching him mess and meddle about with the breaks. Closer.. Closer..

And then..

“GOTCHA!”

Attack! They'd wrap their arms around the Engineer and lift him up at least a foot in the air definitely squeezing tight enough to cause a few joins to pop in his back... Owch

He's in the middle of trying to pry the wretched brake drum off with the Gunslinger, muttering under his breath as the mechanical limb clicks and shudders in effort.

"C'mon, c'mon–" The drum pops off and clatters to the ground, narrowly missing his foot in the process. "Oh, sh– Ha! Gotcha!"

He goes to kick the drum, presumably as some sort of display of dominance towards the inanimate object, when he's abruptly whisked off his feet.

He yelps, a very undignified sort of sound as his feet kick about in the air, before grunting as his back pops from the grasp. Honestly, he needed a good popping of the back, but he's too distracted by the fact that he has no idea what's going on to appreciate it.

"Wha– What the–" He squirms a bit, trying to turn his head to see who's grabbed him, but being unable to do so – those welding goggles don't do much for his peripheral vision. "Boy, you better unhand me or you're fixin' to see me enact my second amendment right–!"

That voice's awfully familiar, though, he thinks.

Can't wait for him to immediately retract his threat.

“No can do Bubba! Youve been workin to hard, it's time fer a sit out!”

The intruder steps back from the truck some, before finally setting down the smaller man, dusting off his hands, and immediately covering up the others goggles. Wow. Annoying 101.

“Guess whoooo?”

They asked, half giggling through their words as they quite honestly just toyed with the other

He ducks away and whirls around as soon as his boots hit the ground, ready to show this intruder some fifty kinds of hell–

Oh. Wait– "...Maynard??" That can't be right, he just...

He pauses, just for a second. To this intruder, it's no more than a couple second's pause – he was a fast thinker. So, let's see here...

He'd gotten off the phone with his older brother no less than two hours prior, hadn't been informed of any visits. Both him and Zed were busy with...things. Them being here was impossible.

Hypothesis 1: Could be a Spy. But Spies aren't stupid enough to break into his garage, let alone grab him out of nowhere. Conclusion: This was really his brother. But there was something different about 'em...

Hypothesis 2: Interdimensional shenanigans. That knock on the head he'd got really screwed things up, made him blip into other places. Conclusion: He must be mid-blip right now. Damn. That means he's going to have to get that brake drum off again...

"Maynard! Uh, jeez, sorry for threatenin' ya just now!" he says cheerfully. He'll take the careful route for now – 'act as if nothing is amiss until he's no longer able to' it is! "You scared the heck outta me! What're you doin' 'round here so late?"

"GhHeh— surrpiisen I was in town! And I figured since ya haven't returned my calls in a few years— is stop by and see ya!”

he picked Dell back up again as If he was a child, jesus how strong is this guy?

"How have ya been Bubba? That promotion working good for ya? Yer coworkers have been treating you well too, yea?”

they set the other down after a realization that they probably shouldn't be holding their what.. 32+ year old siblings like theyre a toddler

"eeheh..! Golly, sh'orry— I'm getting wayyin over my head— Gah! I'm just too happy ta see ya!"

As far as interactions with interdimensional versions of people he knows goes, getting aggressively scooped up by his brothers despite being 39 whole years old is, shockingly, not that odd to him.

What is odd is this talk of promotions and phone calls – he'd never ignore a call from family! Meaning...Oh, dear. He doesn't need 11 PhDs to know what THAT means.

"I's glad to see ya, too, May," he says. He's gonna have to figure out how to let them down easy, ain't he? "Seein' ya really brightened my day!" Not untrue. Even if he was from somewhere else, he was still technically family.

“bfhuheehe— well I'm just as glad to see you!”

Hed let out another dumb laugh, setting a hand on his brothers shoulder

"Now thenn.. Ya didn't answer me!— is the team treating you well? Nobody I gottaa.. yhknow... Take care of?”

Now then.. If This May is ANYTHING like engineers actual Maynard— there is NO doubt that he means it— he can and will fight tooth, nail,(and bolt) for his baby brother.

“Heh. Bet Zed would be jealous of me getting a kill in.. Works been slow lately..”

"Naw, I got things handled 'round here. Anybody messes wit' me, I got plenty a' gun what'll show 'em what a big mistake they's makin'. An' that goes fer anybody not on this here team, too."

Just ask the BLU Team's Engineer, he thinks. Stupid bastard.

"Sounds about right,. 'Bout Zed, I mean," he says. His Zed was the same way. Though, he tended to outsource... "Maybe y'all'll get lucky. One thing you can count on, there's always someone what needs takin' care of."

“Damn right there is! in fact, recently someone stole zeds jar of teeth— and uh.. *Teuface has been pissin everyone off recently— heh..”

hed clap his hands together and smile down at Dell, leaning down so they were level with each other and— Oh jesus Christ dude. Your goggles. Maynard your goggles are too fucking bright.

“heard yer mouth a mile down the hall, do ya mind showing me what's been making ya curse like a sailor?"

It's okay. Dell's welding goggles are so dark, it's a miracle he can see anything. Seriously. I don't know how he sees anything with them on, it should be studied.

"Jeez, sounds like a real hell of a time..."

He cocks his head, glancing back over at the project currently sitting behind him.

"Oh, yeah. I's doin' brake work on one o' our trucks. Damned brake drum won't come off, an' as everyone knows, when one don't come off, you gotta beat the hell out of it 'til it does."

Wise words.

“Huh... Well.. Lemme see dat.”

he knelt down to inspect the break drum, tilting his head off. To the side as his goggles gave a very persistent click, click, click, click. Running some kind of Diagnostic

For a second,it almost looks like he knows what to do! But In dumbass fashion, he instead clicks his tongue and ignores the diagnostic and instead suggests;

“Have ya tried pourin acid on it? Thats what I do whenever I can't get something to work..”

Ohhh my God bruh hes a fucking dumbass.

#conversatin' (reblog interactions)#(ooc:) Dell ain't even afraid of that he's just genuinely afraid that this absolute beast of a man will PULVERISE his 5'7 ass #(ooc cont.) absolute genuine fear

"Hmmm. So, n-no, we ain't gon' do that."

Okay, at least try to sound a little less thrown.

"I gots this other one off" – he gestures to the one from prior (which I definitely did not forget about, causing a mild continuity error) that lies on the floor – "so as long as I keep tryin', I think it'll work out fine. Percussive maintenance."

"Boy, whoever Soldier just came complainin' to me about is fixin' to get themselves a new man-made behind. He is NOT a happy camper."

“..wasn’t me. Uh- probably Scout. Scout’s really annoying, you know?”

(Gunner claims, sweating profusely.)

Unfortunately, the Engineer is a very hard man to fool.

"What did you do."

Oh, dear.

(Gunner feels his heart SINK.)

“I didn’t do anything! All I said was that the trombone sucked! And- And that he should get someone to pour stuff into a bowl for him!”

(As if THAT would help his case.)

"Boy, way I hear it, you tell a feller his hobbies ain't shit an' then you insinuate he ain't trustworthy," he says incredulously. "How's that a way to treat a man?"

Friendly reminder that this is the same man that tortured someone for the love of the game for the crime of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Now I got one real upset Yankee on my hands an' yer out here actin' like it weren't a situation that called fer some politeness. How'd you feel, someone came 'round an' did that to you? I oughta lay you out!"

He's not even mad. He's disappointed. Which, in my opinion, is so much worse.

(Gunner doesn’t say anything. He feels like a kid getting scolded by his father for being a moron. He wants to defend himself, but he doesn’t feel like getting into more trouble for once.)

(Which, he’d felt feel like crap when if he had been told that.)

“..sorry.”

(He finally chokes out.)

#conversatin' (reblog interactions)#(ooc:) y'all can have a little bit of a gay inner monologue. As a treat

He sighs heavily. Maybe he got a little heated...

"That's alright," he says softly. "I know how talkin' to Solly can be, sometimes. He's damned stubborn, ain't your fault. I jus'–"

He runs a hand down his face.

"I don't like seein' folks I care about bein' upset. 'Specially when it's 'cause of what some other folk said." He offers a slight smile. "I's, uh...I's sorry for gettin' upset like that. He just, uh..."

He means a lot to me, he thinks. He means the world. I don't like seeing him hurt.

"He's a good man. A good friend. Y'all jus' gotta work wit' his whole 'lead poisonin', stubborn as a mule' thing a bit."

ooc // open RP, go nuts

What a calm, peaceful night at the RED base. The moon is shining, there's neither a Soldier nor Scout stirring, really, it's about as lovely as a night you could ask for. Peaceful and quiet. Except for one thing...

CLANG!

"Oh, you son of a bitch! I'm gonna lay you out!"

At this fine hour, likely sometime past midnight, the RED Team's Engineer has decided that this is the perfect time to finally replace the failing brake parts on one of the team trucks. While it's calm and nice just about everywhere else, in Dell Conagher's automotive garage it may as well be war.

He's been beating on a stuck rear brake drum for the better part of five minutes, and as the rubber mallet clutched in his hand flies out of his grasp for surely the fourth time in that five minutes, he bites out a series of curses more suited for his older brothers as he kicks the drum furiously.

"Stupid piece of shit," he growls. "God, I hate these damn trucks, weren't never a bigger piece of shit than these damn trucks–"

Clearly, it's going well.

Didn't really know how to start this off but ohh well!!! Lets go!!

Carefully peeking through the door way of the garage, Purple tinted lenses locked onto the other texan, before slowly creeping On closer(creeping as best as a six foot eight inches person can do).. The intruder walked right up behind Dell, watching him mess and meddle about with the breaks. Closer.. Closer..

And then..

“GOTCHA!”

Attack! They'd wrap their arms around the Engineer and lift him up at least a foot in the air definitely squeezing tight enough to cause a few joins to pop in his back... Owch

He's in the middle of trying to pry the wretched brake drum off with the Gunslinger, muttering under his breath as the mechanical limb clicks and shudders in effort.

"C'mon, c'mon–" The drum pops off and clatters to the ground, narrowly missing his foot in the process. "Oh, sh– Ha! Gotcha!"

He goes to kick the drum, presumably as some sort of display of dominance towards the inanimate object, when he's abruptly whisked off his feet.

He yelps, a very undignified sort of sound as his feet kick about in the air, before grunting as his back pops from the grasp. Honestly, he needed a good popping of the back, but he's too distracted by the fact that he has no idea what's going on to appreciate it.

"Wha– What the–" He squirms a bit, trying to turn his head to see who's grabbed him, but being unable to do so – those welding goggles don't do much for his peripheral vision. "Boy, you better unhand me or you're fixin' to see me enact my second amendment right–!"

That voice's awfully familiar, though, he thinks.

Can't wait for him to immediately retract his threat.

“No can do Bubba! Youve been workin to hard, it's time fer a sit out!”

The intruder steps back from the truck some, before finally setting down the smaller man, dusting off his hands, and immediately covering up the others goggles. Wow. Annoying 101.

“Guess whoooo?”

They asked, half giggling through their words as they quite honestly just toyed with the other

He ducks away and whirls around as soon as his boots hit the ground, ready to show this intruder some fifty kinds of hell–

Oh. Wait– "...Maynard??" That can't be right, he just...

He pauses, just for a second. To this intruder, it's no more than a couple second's pause – he was a fast thinker. So, let's see here...

He'd gotten off the phone with his older brother no less than two hours prior, hadn't been informed of any visits. Both him and Zed were busy with...things. Them being here was impossible.

Hypothesis 1: Could be a Spy. But Spies aren't stupid enough to break into his garage, let alone grab him out of nowhere. Conclusion: This was really his brother. But there was something different about 'em...

Hypothesis 2: Interdimensional shenanigans. That knock on the head he'd got really screwed things up, made him blip into other places. Conclusion: He must be mid-blip right now. Damn. That means he's going to have to get that brake drum off again...

"Maynard! Uh, jeez, sorry for threatenin' ya just now!" he says cheerfully. He'll take the careful route for now – 'act as if nothing is amiss until he's no longer able to' it is! "You scared the heck outta me! What're you doin' 'round here so late?"

"GhHeh— surrpiisen I was in town! And I figured since ya haven't returned my calls in a few years— is stop by and see ya!”

he picked Dell back up again as If he was a child, jesus how strong is this guy?

"How have ya been Bubba? That promotion working good for ya? Yer coworkers have been treating you well too, yea?”

they set the other down after a realization that they probably shouldn't be holding their what.. 32+ year old siblings like theyre a toddler

"eeheh..! Golly, sh'orry— I'm getting wayyin over my head— Gah! I'm just too happy ta see ya!"

As far as interactions with interdimensional versions of people he knows goes, getting aggressively scooped up by his brothers despite being 39 whole years old is, shockingly, not that odd to him.

What is odd is this talk of promotions and phone calls – he'd never ignore a call from family! Meaning...Oh, dear. He doesn't need 11 PhDs to know what THAT means.

"I's glad to see ya, too, May," he says. He's gonna have to figure out how to let them down easy, ain't he? "Seein' ya really brightened my day!" Not untrue. Even if he was from somewhere else, he was still technically family.

“bfhuheehe— well I'm just as glad to see you!”

Hed let out another dumb laugh, setting a hand on his brothers shoulder

"Now thenn.. Ya didn't answer me!— is the team treating you well? Nobody I gottaa.. yhknow... Take care of?”

Now then.. If This May is ANYTHING like engineers actual Maynard— there is NO doubt that he means it— he can and will fight tooth, nail,(and bolt) for his baby brother.

“Heh. Bet Zed would be jealous of me getting a kill in.. Works been slow lately..”

"Naw, I got things handled 'round here. Anybody messes wit' me, I got plenty a' gun what'll show 'em what a big mistake they's makin'. An' that goes fer anybody not on this here team, too."

Just ask the BLU Team's Engineer, he thinks. Stupid bastard.

"Sounds about right,. 'Bout Zed, I mean," he says. His Zed was the same way. Though, he tended to outsource... "Maybe y'all'll get lucky. One thing you can count on, there's always someone what needs takin' care of."

“Damn right there is! in fact, recently someone stole zeds jar of teeth— and uh.. *Teuface has been pissin everyone off recently— heh..”

hed clap his hands together and smile down at Dell, leaning down so they were level with each other and— Oh jesus Christ dude. Your goggles. Maynard your goggles are too fucking bright.

“heard yer mouth a mile down the hall, do ya mind showing me what's been making ya curse like a sailor?"

#conversatin' (reblog interactions)#(ooc:) feel that in my soul sometimes i forget about rps and then i do something that reminds me and go “O Shit”#(ooc cont.) also Dell is trying to act soso Normal™ right now. He does NOT want to have the “who the fuck are you actually” conversation

It's okay. Dell's welding goggles are so dark, it's a miracle he can see anything. Seriously. I don't know how he sees anything with them on, it should be studied.

"Jeez, sounds like a real hell of a time..."

He cocks his head, glancing back over at the project currently sitting behind him.

"Oh, yeah. I's doin' brake work on one o' our trucks. Damned brake drum won't come off, an' as everyone knows, when one don't come off, you gotta beat the hell out of it 'til it does."

Wise words.

"Boy, whoever Soldier just came complainin' to me about is fixin' to get themselves a new man-made behind. He is NOT a happy camper."

“..wasn’t me. Uh- probably Scout. Scout’s really annoying, you know?”

(Gunner claims, sweating profusely.)

Unfortunately, the Engineer is a very hard man to fool.

"What did you do."

Oh, dear.

(Gunner feels his heart SINK.)

“I didn’t do anything! All I said was that the trombone sucked! And- And that he should get someone to pour stuff into a bowl for him!”

(As if THAT would help his case.)

"Boy, way I hear it, you tell a feller his hobbies ain't shit an' then you insinuate he ain't trustworthy," he says incredulously. "How's that a way to treat a man?"

Friendly reminder that this is the same man that tortured someone for the love of the game for the crime of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Now I got one real upset Yankee on my hands an' yer out here actin' like it weren't a situation that called fer some politeness. How'd you feel, someone came 'round an' did that to you? I oughta lay you out!"

He's not even mad. He's disappointed. Which, in my opinion, is so much worse.