#sgt icepick

[sergeantstefansson]

tw; suicidal ideation and thoughts of self harm

[Icepick is currently in his office. He's looking at his lobotomy tools; the orbitoclast and mallet, of course. The fine tip of the orbitoclast is poised towards his eyelid, with the mallet just behind.]

[How unreasonable would it be to try and lobotomize himself? Totally, surely, because lobotomy is technically surgery..albeit very defunct and controversial. But to hell with it, his frontal lobe'll get cut to shit and either he dies or he gets so severely brain damaged that he can't even think anymore. Both options he looks at with a positive light.]

[sgt-artemis-owl-riley]

[He goes over to Owl and flops down right next to his feet, wherever that may be; talking to recruits, lounging in the commons, outside in the training fields..wherever. He doesn't have the mental stability to care about what he's doing.]

(hi twin stares at you and throws gummies at you)

＊Owl blinks, looking down from where he was reading his book (was sitting on a chair & reading a novel)＊

Icepick, nice of you to join me. Is something wrong?

(*Catches gummies and throws over a icecream* Hey! :D)

[screecher-call]

how many shot to get you with Ice Pick

*she blinks*

He… Ice iz a friend. No amount of drinkink vould lead to anything.

Zat beink zaid…. I vill drink zat tall ass under ze table.

In reference to this

[sgt-callsign-shelling]

I originally had more but looking at them again I don’t like them that much, so you everyone will only be having sleepy shelling and icepick :’)

@sergeantstefansson

[sergeantstefansson]

Icepick could feel someone watching him all day. Like there was someone right behind him, breathing down his neck, yet when he looked, there was nobody there.

After hours and hours of paranoia, Icepick was finally able to see what, or who it was. He just caught the faintest glimpse of a pair of blinding white eyes outside his office window.

He caught the faint smell of garbage and rot coming from right outside.

@rotting-insomniac

[Icepick's eyes narrow as he gets a whiff of that horrid goddamn stench. He had been looking over patient files, but he set them down when he caught a glimpse of those white eyes.]

You're back, hm? How's your procedure treating you? Any hallucinations, headaches, fuzziness? [He asks with a wide, feral grin.]

[sergeantstefansson]

Stigandr was here for a checkup on his legs after he'd fallen over one too many times.. And of course, he was not happy about it. Hewas currently pressed up against a wall, growling like a rabid dog. 'I swear if ye even fockin think about touchin me ah'll bite yer fockin 'and off.' He barked, glaring at Icepick.

@stigandr-wolfe

[Icepick just gazed boredly at Stigandr.]

Can we please just get on with this? Fighting only makes you stay in here longer. I've got teeth too, y'know.

[He sighed, seeing that Stigandr wouldn't cooperate, and walked forward. He took him by the arms, dragging him to a cot and strapping him down.] Was that so hard?

[sergeantstefansson]

open roleplay but mostly for @dagger-the-medic 🥹 hello twinling blinks at you. ok let me lock in

WARNING FOR: Self harm, dissociation and military violence + trauma

[The mission was over. That should mean that everything is back to normal - as normal as things can get in the military, that is - and that it's time to work and train and maybe do some socializing until the next one..right?]

[Well, it had been a clusterfuck.]

[They'd been deployed in some shithole in the middle of nowhere - somewhere Icepick couldn't even remember at the moment - and it'd been Hell. Shots everywhere, having to stitch up multiple people at once to keep them from dying, and even having to put his knives to good use. Very good use. They didn't call him Icepick for nothing, right?]

[It sounded as normal operations went on paper. Get deployed, a whole bunch of shit happens that you and the others can only endure, go home..wherever home is, and wait. This particular one, however, had taken a toll on this ol' medic's mind.]

[Icepick sat in his quarters, the desk that was usually in the corner pressed firmly against the door. He had his back pressed against the metal frame of his shitty bed, which made his back ache, but he paid no attention to it. A scalpel lay on the floor beside him, gleaming and bloody. And where else did that blood come from than himself? He'd made a couple of deep-ish cuts on his arm - disassociating, really, while doing it - before realizing that it wasn't giving him the usual release and dropping it. Now, he was just..sitting there, staring blankly at the wall in front of him.]

[sergeantstefansson]

heyyyy guuuuuys 🥹

so. i dont know if you guys know this or not because i never went into it like at all, but icepick's supposed to be both a sniper AND a medic.

but, since i haven't been doing ANYTHING with that idea, i've decided to change him into a medic with former sniping experience.

okay? okay. meow