#autobalance event

[weaponsandwiring]

With everything packed up and ready to go, Paul uses his last bit of tape to secure a coiled up extension cord to Pat's shop door along with a note that said: "Thanks for your help, shame we won't get to be teammates longer. Make sure to scare those hikers real good for me and don't let those gym-goers get off too easy. -Paul"

Pat pauses at his workshop door, looping the coiled cord over his wrist as he simultaneously entered the room and began looking over the note. He smiled faintly, shaking his head. "Damn shame." He sets the note on his workbench, looking over at his cabinets.

...Wait, shit--where did he usually put his medium-length extension cords again?

[crocodilepuncher]

rejectmedic replied to your post: Boid’s gone? YES! Piss. I wanted to annoy him...

I’m shtill here. I’m juzt dragging my heelz to wrap up a few zhingz on BLU. I’m here until noon.

Aww... Hey, how'd you go getting your demon rabbit back? Did you get in trouble? You got in trouble, right?

*throws an arm around his shoulder and grins, mostly to be even more annoying*

[crocodilepuncher]

Boid's gone? YES!

Piss. I wanted to annoy him some more.

[aredwithalist-blog]

A blade dully reflects the orangey-hue of fire, the same color that flickers off of the cave walls and dead animal carcasses. Unlike the outside, the cave is dank, musty, and humid from the heat. There's a distressed noise coming from a huddled figure in the corner. 

Artyom looks at his victim dully, eyes glassy and distant. He's grown bored of his current game, it was time to find a new one. One that was deserving of his more fickle winter sanity. Ironically, he thinks how it would be fun to have his Pyro target back on his original team, though he'd been in and out of his cave all day and thus unaware of any changes in the roster. Well, he'd mostly been in the cave, but something unlucky had been out and about outside and stumbled upon him--how fortunate. 

He bends down, lifting up the girl's chin with his knife, staring down at it in fascination. He imagines a different victim other than this one. Male, former BLU, Pyro. Too bad he can't fight him in battle--substitutes will have to do instead, he supposes.

"...Do you know what I am, барышня?"

[ragobeard-red]

OFFICIAL NOTICE [High Importance]

Attention: Ragomir Egresky, Heavy Weapons Specialist From: Reliable Excavation & Demolition CC: TFI; Builders League United Subject: Contract Acquisition Mr. Egresky— Your contract has been reacquired by Reliable Excavation & Demolition. You are ordered to report back to the RED base at 5Gorge Base by noon, December 10th, where you will continue active duty. Failure to report for duty will result in disciplinary censure. Have a nice day, Administration, RED

------

A wave of panicked nausea hits Ragomir at the sight of the envelope--of course. First they were going to send him to the other side of the battlefield, and then they were going to send him to a different base entirely. He almost doesn't want to open it, sitting on his bed and turning the envelope over and over in his hands. He carefully tears the envelope open after a long moment, and slides the paper out slowly--no use in waiting to read it, he supposes.

...Oh.

Oh.

He stands up suddenly, re-reading the letter a half-dozen times in a bewildered paralysis. He was--he--

He was going back.

He sits back down, his heart thundering in his chest as he looked over his belongings. He hadn't really unpacked that much in the weeks he spent in this room--and the various objects that had migrated out of his boxes from use wouldn't be too hard to re-pack. He could go back tonight if he wanted--and no doubt he did.

He glanced up next to his desk, however--well, he'd at least have to do something about that dent in his wall first.

[tavishdegroot]

OFFICIAL NOTICE [High Importance]

5gorge submitted: 

Attention: Tavish Degroot, Demolitions Specialist From: Reliable Excavation & Demolition CC: TFI; Builders League United Subject: Contract Acquisition Mr. Degroot— Your contract has been reacquired by Reliable Excavation & Demolition. You are ordered to report back to the RED base at 5Gorge Base by noon, December 10th, where you will continue active duty. Failure to report for duty will result in disciplinary censure. Have a nice day, Administration, RED

At first, the Demoman was elated. He was going to be going back to his old team, wearing the old colors again. He could go about without a shirt and see his friends again, and things would-

Go back to the way they were. Him on RED, Jane on BLU... They would be killing eachother again.

The crash of his spirit was practically a physical thing. It resonated in his bones, robbing their strength. He was on the floor before he knew what hit him, his knuckles shaking as he gripped the paper.

So that was it, then... He and Jane and Mando were... over? Despite how awkward things were, he couldn't have been happier, and they were taking this away from him, too?

He sat there on his knees, struck dumb for what felt like an eternity as he tried to pull the shattered pieces of everything back together. He was a DeGroot. DeGroots didn't give up, and hell, he'd done a lot of that of late. Giving up on his friendship, letting life bowl him over and just letting it pass him by as he drank himself into an alcoholic stupor.

He couldn't let this be taken, too.

Gathering his legs up underneath him, the Demoman started small. He'd get up to his feet first, then pull the rest of the world in line with him. There would be no more room for false bravado in his life. He had to be strong if he didn't want to lose Jane again. And he'd be damned if he'd let a few lies split them up, or take his Engineer away.

Next step was talking to them, of course. Already, his mind was hurrying off, racing to find some sort of plan. He didn't give himself time to dwell on the fact that his cheek was damp and his vision was blurry. It was alright to cry, but it wasn't alright to let a little salt water drag him down.

[ragobeard-red]

The air was frigid that morning--disappearing into the woods in a timely manner had been getting rather hard as of late, ever since the dropping temperatures had begun their attempts of convincing Ragomir to sleep in a little more each week. Still, these meetings were important, if not for keeping contact then for keeping sanity; judging by the hefty dent in his wall from last Wednesday, it was probably pretty imperative for him to be outside, blue tarp tucked inconspicuously under one arm as he picked his way through the frosted foliage.

The spot by now was by now well familiar--vaguely flattened grass where the tarp was normally spread out, right next to the stump that was used as reference to keep it vaguely in the same spot. He didn't sit down quite yet--the ground was just as cold as he was at the moment, and as such he stuffed his hands in his coat pockets, idly wandering the immediate area in a restless anticipation.