#burningblu

[stilettostab]

@burning-blu liked for a starter

August sat alone in the corner of the mess hall, feet pulled up on the chair with his knees up in front of his chest. His hands held a mug of hot chocolate in his lap, which he nursed quietly--this position let him see the whole room, while passing mostly unnoticed.

He knew he probably should approach some people--he’d been on this team for a while, apparently, so they should know him--but people-watching was easier, right now. Maybe he could get a feel for them, this way. A feel for who was loud and who was quiet, a feel for what everyone was after. Or, at least, a feel for what his teammates looked and sounded like. The RED Spy was a little too smug about how easily he fooled August with his disguises. Surely the asshole had tells, but he couldn’t see them if he didn’t know anything about his teammates anyway.

Well, people-watching was the plan, anyway. The actuality was people-watching for about an hour, his cocoa going from steaming to lukewarm, and then August slowly dozing in the corner of the mess hall.

[fireashblood-blog]

@burning-blu liked for a starter like 100 yrs ago

It wasn’t too often that one ran across someone on the same team and with the same class as oneself. Because of this, Naseem didn’t really have much opinion on BLU Pyros. It wasn’t inconceivable for one team to have two Pyros, he supposed--teams with two Scouts or two Soldiers certainly wasn’t unheard of, and to be honest it seemed to function fairly well. But two of one class meant your team had to be missing another, because this strange war had its own strange set of rules, for some reason, and those rules said nine men per team.

Well. Nine people. Naz was making an effort to update his language to fit the times. Ladies worked alongside men, these days. 

Anyway, Naseem had no idea what to expect as he trotted up to the other BLU Pyro after a battle. He clapped a wide, gloved hand against the similarly-clad shoulder, grinning behind his mask, even though they couldn’t see. What they could see, though, was a cheery wave as he said “Hey!” through his mask, muffled but audible. “Good work out there today, yeah?”

[fasteronplastic]

@burning-blu started following you!

Chuck slowed to a stop by the BLU dispenser, bouncing on his blades a little as the healing beams rejuvenated his muscles. It wasn’t the same as a Medic’s beam, sure, but it was still relaxing, and it was almost the end of the match, so...

He heard the announcement of the match’s winner, but he didn’t pay too much attention to it, leaning his body against the machine with a little huff. The end of a match always lead to an adrenaline crash, but it had gotten worse since he had come back. 

When boots crunched in the gravel nearby, Chuck assumed it was the Engineer returning from wherever he’d moved his sentry up to, but when he picked his head up he was greeted instead by the glass eyes of a Pyro mask. “Oh, hey! Need some juice?” He patted the dispenser, to illustrate what he’d meant by juice.

[therapeuticmurder-blog]

Attempting to kill a spider, and failing.

Lucy wasn’t afraid of spiders, but she didn’t like them, either. If asked, though, she would absolutely deny the squawk that she made as a stupidly large spider walked across her desk. She would also deny throwing the book it was on across the room.

She would also try to deny the loud HYAH sound she made as she stomped where she thought the spider was with all her weight, if she didn’t then look up and see Dot standing in the door. She raised a hand to wave as the spider quietly crawled from beside Lucy’s shoe over towards her visitor.

[therapeuticmurder-blog]

starter for @burning-blu

Lucy straightened the papers on her desk, looking over her appointment schedule. It looked like her next appointment was... a BLU Pyro. Dot Muller. As usual for the Pyro class, her file was slim. She wondered if they would take the mask off, or if the conversation would be through a wall of rubber. Not that she was opposed to a patient with a mask, but it made reading facial cues a lot harder.

Checking her watch, she stood up and went to her door. She liked to wait outside for patients, to welcome them inside, make sure they got the right room, and switch the sign on the front to say ‘in session.’ 

[stilettostab]

how hot: Dot

Not My Type | Alright | Cute | Adorable | Pretty | Gorgeous | LORD MERCY

“Dot is very pretty, even under her mask, which is very cool looking and I like to look at it.”

[stilettostab]

“Are you sure you know where we are?”

“What? No. I thought you were keeping track of where we were.” 

August stopped and frowned at her. They were in the middle of the desert, looking for something Pauling had sent them after--a hidden base, or something. He was in a t-shirt, since they were outside, and his arms were already suffering under the sun. 

“I definitely think we agreed on you having the map, since you’re, like, almost definitely smarter than I am. I’m just here to sap shit and tell you where I’d hide a secret base or whatever. Which, for the record, my first choice would be not in the desert.”

[therapeuticmurder-blog]

@burning-blu (X)

“Well…” she hesitated and for a moment looked very small and afraid. That moment quickly passed. “It’s…the problem I have is with me. How I look, I mean.”

She tapped the hard plastic of her mask. “It’s rather hard to hide something that’s nearly the size of half of your face. And no matter where I go, I get stared at. As if I’m some kind of creature.”

Lucy hummed, somewhere between thoughtful and sympathetic. She made a couple marks on her paper before speaking. 

“It is hard to change how others view you,” she pointed out, “but what we can work on changing is how you feel about yourself, and how you react to the opinions of others. And both of those are admirable goals.”

She tapped her pen against the paper once, twice, three times, before speaking again. “How do you feel about your face, under the mask? When you’re in your room alone, do you take it off?”