"Is zhat my shirt?"
Looking at the loose fitting shirt he clung to it pulling it closer to himself. “Neiiiiin...” Yes it was.

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"Is zhat my shirt?"
Looking at the loose fitting shirt he clung to it pulling it closer to himself. “Neiiiiin...” Yes it was.
"Can't get zhis." Josef held a piece of paper well above his head, smirking. "So short, let's see you try to get zhis, stumpy." He tittered.
“Excuse me!?” A bit of provocation challenged the little guy as he watched the paper, being taunted . “Come on I am not that short!” Even if it was small, he tried jumping and reaching for it anyways,
failing miserably.
"Hi, Hans. How are you?" Josef appeared sober in the Medic's doorway.
hans looked at josef before nodding and going back to his paperwork that laid sprawled amongst his desk top. “I am good. just busy. and yourself?”
“See? What did I tell you? The dress totally brings out your eye!”
A Brutal Medic stood at the doorstep, a medipack upon his back that hung a medigun from the pack. He just hoped to whatever deity that someone would answer.
The door would slowly swing open and Abel peeked out--no, not Abel. For one, this person had long black hair and bright gold eyes. Two, they were rather covered up in a long-sleeved button down, waistcoat, and nice jeans; red glasses balanced on their nose. Third, they looked up at Josef with unadulterated fear in their eyes.
"C-can I help you?" he stuttered. It was easy to tell he was a German national due to the strong nature of his accent, though it was muddled with an English accent in a weird muddle. He swallowed hard, almost inching back to close the door on the stranger. Werewolves terrified him.
Breeder/Bearer AU - Brice and Josef
the-second-todesengel
Brice bit his lip before taking a deep breath through his nose. If he was being honest with himself, he was actually rather nervous. Then again, being paired with a stranger to reproduce with was probably a little nerve-wracking for anyone, regardless of past experiences.
He'd been a part of the surrogate program back when Ruffet's disease was just thought to cause instability of the uterus and hadn't progressed to the stage of mass organ failure. As an immune male surrogate, he's been pregnant three times with other people's children in the span of five years.
Then the second stage of the disease had struck and the population had been decimated. Now they were struggling to repopulate. Brice had managed to skirt around being roped into the Breeder program for a while, buying more time by acting as a counselor and copious sperm donations. But they finally caught up to him and subtly demanded that he needed to be contributing to the gene pool.
Being assigned as a Breeder despite obviously having a very much working implant had confused him a bit, but honestly he was a little relieved. He wasn't sure he was ready to be pregnant again. That didn't make him any less nervous though.
Letting out the breath, he opened the door to the pairing office's private meeting room he and his assigned to be had been given. The pink haired man offered the other a warm smile as he entered.
"Josef Friedrich? Brice Patterson... Looks like we've been paired."
(To Owen) "Hey, you. Yes, you. You've been vaiting for zhis haven't you?" The Brutal stood his ground as he braced himself for impact.
[Owen curled his lip and snarled, eye blazing with hatred. Still, he didn't lunge. He wasn't stupid.]
Go fuck yourself, old man.
ʘ‿ʘ
You fucking better.