Steel My Heart and Break My Pride

I've nowhere to stand and now nowhere to hide Align my heart, my body, my mind To face what I've done, and do my time. (( TF2 RP blog for a retired demo, Tal Dabah. ))

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[tal-dabah-blog]

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[tal-dabah-blog]

"Don't be a child; look at me, dammit.

"Yes, you m-- Didn't work out fo-- Walter Ashley Taylor, you are lying to me."

She crosses her arms almost violently and glowers at him.

"Well, you're right about me 'wigging out,' but it sure as shit isn't because I believe you about it all being your choice. Tell me, where are you living right now?"

[americanvalkyrie-blog]

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[tal-dabah-blog]

But the lately his general routine hasn't really followed suit in any kind of way. She's surveyed his pad in the evening on her breaks, as she always does, but sees no sign of life in the former soldier's residence-- no lights on, no sign of him coming or going, no movement, nothing.

Either he's not there at all and hasn't been for a while, or he's barricaded himself inside. She's not sure which is more worrying, to be honest.

So by the fifth morning following a fruitless all-night vigil in her car outside his building, she decides it's time for patience and ration to go to hell, and without so much as a second thought, she invites herself into Walter's apartment with two swift kicks to door.

And an empty room welcomes her. Still, there's a chance he's still in there and just threw out... well, all of his shit in a paranoid fit, so the small unit gets a fair shakedown, to no avail... And with that, Tal allows herself a moment of seizing panic and braces herself against the bathroom door frame while she regathers herself. Funny how she can carry out hits outside of a respawn safe zone without so much as a moment of distressed silence, but a missing middle aged asshole that she cares too much about is enough to shake her up. Good thing the other asshole is back at the Lombardi estate where he can't wander out of her sight.

While his apartment got all her attention throughout the week, Tal notes that she's neglected his other frequented locations, namely the construction sites he'd been contracted at and the park where he feeds those nasty birds... But given the state of things as she's coming to grasp them, she suspects his workplaces won't yeild a damn thing, so with a feigned easy pace and entirely too much worry bubbling in her chest, she finds her way back to the car and sets her destination for the park.

----

Sure enough, he's there, lying in the grass like an asshole. Well, she thinks along those lines, but the emotion behind the thought is far more relieved than angry. Doing her best to move quietly, she approaches him, and against her better instinct to NOT startle the man, she taps his forehead.

"Why the fuck didn't you tell us you moved?"

[tessie-the-onlyonlyonly]

*Tess blinks at her, confused.*

Uh… since always? Well I mean, since she was born, anyway.

*Which is a brilliant deduction.*

That’s why he was workin’ for TFI in th’ first place, to like, support her n’ shit. Her name’s Tiffany, she’s seven, she’s uh, livin’ with us…

…she don’t like me very much.

[tal-dabah-blog]

*Her hand waves absently again*

Yeah, but we don’t exactly sit around and gossip about men, so this is news to me. Jesus fuck, though, he’s pretty young to have a kid that old already.

*she clears her throat in a sheepish laugh though, and shakes her head.*

But you probably didn’t come to gossip about men today, either, hm? 

[tessie-the-onlyonlyonly]

…I guess not. But uh, yeah he was pretty young when she was born. Her ma didn’t want nothin’ ta do with her. Bradley loves her ta death, though. He’s uh, a great dad.

*Tess suddenly feels a little embarrassed. Maybe that was a little too much gushing. She glances over at Tal again, then down at her fidgeting feet.*

…not really. I dunno. I guess I need like… advice? Or somethin’?

[tal-dabah-blog]

*That had to make things incredibly difficult if the kid had no mother involved and her only other parent being a full-time mercenary for so long. But it's not really any of her business, and she can't say she cares about it anyway, so she nods.*

Well good. Sucks to be you, though. But ah, what kind of advice then? I can't say I'm the best person to come to for that kind of shit, but you probably know that already.

[americanvalkyrie-blog]

-Casually looking through the wanted ad of the local Chicago newspaper (that he swiped off a table outside some dining establishment when the poor, unsuspecting schmuck went to piss or something). He himself is sitting outside a similar establishment loitering and feeding pigeons the crust from his sandwich- 

Mmm… meat packing factory huh? 

-Sounds like a bad porno name. Also, a steamy pile of shit. But it’s been almost a week since his interview with the housing company. And the sanitation department. He shakes his head and tosses another piece of bread-

They don’t let Schizophrenics sell their sperm, ain’t that a bitch?

-The pigeons agree. That is such a bitch-

[tal-dabah-blog]

*Hope you don’t mind a snarky bitch making herself comfortable with her arms folded on top of your head. Chicago’s hardly a small world, but then, Tal’s happening across someone she knows here, Walter specifically, isn’t wholly an accident.*

Selling sperm, huh? Any good insight from the birds on that?

[americanvalkyrie-blog]

-While Walter far from minds Tal’s presence in his space, on his head, his initial reaction is to swat and growl at the stranger whose invading his space, thinking they’re either a drunk beggar or a lunatic whose lost the concept of personal space. Fortunately she pipes up before he reacts, and then he’s nothing but smiles- 

Hey it’s easy money! Any yahoo with a clean medical bill and a dick can get twenty bucks in an afternoon. 

-He stands up and hugs her enthusiastically, though not too enthusiastically, there’s residual awkwardness after all-

How you been, girl, what you even doin’ out here? -puts his hands on his hips and gives her a playful sneer- Do you gotta hit on me~?

[tal-dabah-blog]

*She returns the hug with a laugh, and though she feels some of the same lingering discomfort, she’s more content to roll with the course of things maintain her confused fondness.*

Looks like you’re not a yahoo then, or the one they’re after, hm?

*Gives a nudge and holds back on calling him camp for that stance and wording*

You know, small world; I had to cross paths with you or another, ah, old coworker sooner or later.

*And with a small smirk, she pretends to glance around cautiously and reach inside her jacket.*

See, now that you’re on to me, I’ll have to whack ya.

[americanvalkyrie-blog]

Yeah guess you would.

-Though small is the last thing Walter would call Chicago. Personally he feels quite intimidated by the largeness, coupled with foreignness, much of it louder and busier than he’s accustom too. And it’s not like he’s in the best condition of his life either, neither physically or mentally.

But none of that really concerns her. So he just smiles and pretends to reach into his own jacket- 

Not if I whack you first…!!!

-And then he pulls his hand out and gives her the finger before flopping down in the chair, laughing some more and nodding to the one next to him- 

You got time to chat? Wouldn’t mind the company, you’re a lot—uh, a lot nicer than a pigeon. 

-He almost said prettier. Almost. Nervously he grabs his cup of coffee and takes a drink-

I been wonderin’ what, uh… what you and Artemis have been up to. I mean what you’re doin’ with yourselves now that you’re here.

… I mean like work. 

[tal-dabah-blog]

*She bats his offending finger out of the way, chuckling as she does so, and makes herself comfortable in the offered chair. She snorts, smartass grin creeping across her face, and the chance to rib him is too tempting to refuse.*

Nicer? Nice? That's it? What, did the pidgeon insult your family, and that's the only reason I win out against a bird?

*But, hey, that's interesting, he's awfully jittery all of a sudden. Jesus, just over a generic compliment? She knows the air between them is weird nowadays, but man. This is still going to take some adjusting.*

Heh, what do you think we're up to? We never defected, so we're right back in the family business, if you catch me. How, ah... How have you been, by the way? You don't have family around here or anyone you know outside the old team, yeah?

[tessie-the-onlyonlyonly]

Yeah. I just… I need somebody who ain’t a dude.

*Somebody who’s not a dude and not seven and not determined to hate her. Tess opens her mouth to keep going, but is caught off guard by Tal suggesting she might be pregnant. Her face instantly twists into a look of horror.*

Wh-what?! Oh god! No! No fuckin’ way!

*She shakes her head vehemently.*

I ain’t knocked up! I… I mean Bradley’s already got a kid, right? He don’t need me ta have any more.

[tal-dabah-blog]

*The reaction is close enough to her expectations, so Tal revels in laughter a few moments before recomposing again, and tilts her head.*

Whoa, hold up, when’d he have a kid?

[tessie-the-onlyonlyonly]

*Tess blinks at her, confused.*

Uh… since always? Well I mean, since she was born, anyway.

*Which is a brilliant deduction.*

That’s why he was workin’ for TFI in th’ first place, to like, support her n’ shit. Her name’s Tiffany, she’s seven, she’s uh, livin’ with us…

…she don’t like me very much.

[tal-dabah-blog]

*Her hand waves absently again*

Yeah, but we don't exactly sit around and gossip about men, so this is news to me. Jesus fuck, though, he's pretty young to have a kid that old already.

*she clears her throat in a sheepish laugh though, and shakes her head.*

But you probably didn't come to gossip about men today, either, hm? 

[tal-dabah-blog]

tessie-the-onlyonlyonly replied to your post: *Someone is knocking on your door.*

*Tess starts a little at the sound from the camera, and eyes the gun a little nervously as she walks in.* Uh. Wally told me. You busy?

*She notices Tess’s apprehension and chuckles, holstering the gun.*

Gotta be careful, you know? Heh, right, I should’ve figured as much.

*and she waves a hand, then leads the same hand with a sweeping gesture toward the wall of CRT screens*

Nah, just minding the monitors for now. Sup?

[tessie-the-onlyonlyonly]

Yeah, I guess…

*Tess peers at the monitors a little uneasily. Being here with the cameras and the guns makes her feel a little like she’s back at TFI. And that brings up all sorts of confusing, conflicting feelings.

But none of that is why she came to see Tal. Fidgeting from foot to foot, Tess rubs the back of her neck.*

I dunno. I just… needed somebody ta talk to. That wasn’t Wally or Bradley. You know?

[tal-dabah-blog]

*While Tess talks, Tal flops back onto the chair, sending it rolling back a few inches and swiveling in an incomplete turn.*

Well, sounds about right; I’m not Walter, and I’m not Beardly, so shoot. You knocked up already? I’m afraid I can’t help with that kind of thing. I hate kids, never had any.

*Well, that’s a lie, but nothing that concerns Tess.*

[tessie-the-onlyonlyonly]

Yeah. I just… I need somebody who ain’t a dude.

*Somebody who’s not a dude and not seven and not determined to hate her. Tess opens her mouth to keep going, but is caught off guard by Tal suggesting she might be pregnant. Her face instantly twists into a look of horror.*

Wh-what?! Oh god! No! No fuckin’ way!

*She shakes her head vehemently.*

I ain’t knocked up! I… I mean Bradley’s already got a kid, right? He don’t need me ta have any more.

[tal-dabah-blog]

*The reaction is close enough to her expectations, so Tal revels in laughter a few moments before recomposing again, and tilts her head.*

Whoa, hold up, when'd he have a kid?

[tal-dabah-blog]

tessie-the-onlyonlyonly replied to your post: *Someone is knocking on your door.*

*Tess starts a little at the sound from the camera, and eyes the gun a little nervously as she walks in.* Uh. Wally told me. You busy?

*She notices Tess’s apprehension and chuckles, holstering the gun.*

Gotta be careful, you know? Heh, right, I should’ve figured as much.

*and she waves a hand, then leads the same hand with a sweeping gesture toward the wall of CRT screens*

Nah, just minding the monitors for now. Sup?

[tessie-the-onlyonlyonly]

Yeah, I guess…

*Tess peers at the monitors a little uneasily. Being here with the cameras and the guns makes her feel a little like she’s back at TFI. And that brings up all sorts of confusing, conflicting feelings.

But none of that is why she came to see Tal. Fidgeting from foot to foot, Tess rubs the back of her neck.*

I dunno. I just… needed somebody ta talk to. That wasn’t Wally or Bradley. You know?

[tal-dabah-blog]

*While Tess talks, Tal flops back onto the chair, sending it rolling back a few inches and swiveling in an incomplete turn.*

Well, sounds about right; I'm not Walter, and I'm not Beardly, so shoot. You knocked up already? I'm afraid I can't help with that kind of thing. I hate kids, never had any.

*Well, that's a lie, but nothing that concerns Tess.*

[tal-dabah-blog]

tessie-the-onlyonlyonly replied to your post: *Someone is knocking on your door.*

*Tess starts a little at the sound from the camera, and eyes the gun a little nervously as she walks in.* Uh. Wally told me. You busy?

*She notices Tess's apprehension and chuckles, holstering the gun.*

Gotta be careful, you know? Heh, right, I should've figured as much.

*and she waves a hand, then leads the same hand with a sweeping gesture toward the wall of CRT screens*

Nah, just minding the monitors for now. Sup?

[tal-dabah-blog]

*Someone is knocking on your door.*

*A surveillance camera whirrs noisily as it focuses in on the girl at the front step. Oh, it's Tess. Tal rocks out of her squishy swivel chair at the security monitor station and ambles over to the door, gun in hand as she unlatches and unbolts several locks on the steel-plated door. A quick glance behind the young woman indicates that she's alone, and Tal ushers her in with a grin.*

Now how in the hell did you know where to go. Also, gutsy; I like it. What can I do for you, Little Bit?

[americanvalkyrie-blog]

-Casually looking through the wanted ad of the local Chicago newspaper (that he swiped off a table outside some dining establishment when the poor, unsuspecting schmuck went to piss or something). He himself is sitting outside a similar establishment loitering and feeding pigeons the crust from his sandwich- 

Mmm… meat packing factory huh? 

-Sounds like a bad porno name. Also, a steamy pile of shit. But it’s been almost a week since his interview with the housing company. And the sanitation department. He shakes his head and tosses another piece of bread-

They don’t let Schizophrenics sell their sperm, ain’t that a bitch?

-The pigeons agree. That is such a bitch-

[tal-dabah-blog]

*Hope you don’t mind a snarky bitch making herself comfortable with her arms folded on top of your head. Chicago’s hardly a small world, but then, Tal’s happening across someone she knows here, Walter specifically, isn’t wholly an accident.*

Selling sperm, huh? Any good insight from the birds on that?

[americanvalkyrie-blog]

-While Walter far from minds Tal’s presence in his space, on his head, his initial reaction is to swat and growl at the stranger whose invading his space, thinking they’re either a drunk beggar or a lunatic whose lost the concept of personal space. Fortunately she pipes up before he reacts, and then he’s nothing but smiles- 

Hey it’s easy money! Any yahoo with a clean medical bill and a dick can get twenty bucks in an afternoon. 

-He stands up and hugs her enthusiastically, though not too enthusiastically, there’s residual awkwardness after all-

How you been, girl, what you even doin’ out here? -puts his hands on his hips and gives her a playful sneer- Do you gotta hit on me~?

[tal-dabah-blog]

*She returns the hug with a laugh, and though she feels some of the same lingering discomfort, she's more content to roll with the course of things maintain her confused fondness.*

Looks like you're not a yahoo then, or the one they're after, hm?

*Gives a nudge and holds back on calling him camp for that stance and wording*

You know, small world; I had to cross paths with you or another, ah, old coworker sooner or later.

*And with a small smirk, she pretends to glance around cautiously and reach inside her jacket.*

See, now that you're on to me, I'll have to whack ya.

[americanvalkyrie-blog]

-Casually looking through the wanted ad of the local Chicago newspaper (that he swiped off a table outside some dining establishment when the poor, unsuspecting schmuck went to piss or something). He himself is sitting outside a similar establishment loitering and feeding pigeons the crust from his sandwich- 

Mmm… meat packing factory huh? 

-Sounds like a bad porno name. Also, a steamy pile of shit. But it’s been almost a week since his interview with the housing company. And the sanitation department. He shakes his head and tosses another piece of bread-

They don’t let Schizophrenics sell their sperm, ain’t that a bitch?

-The pigeons agree. That is such a bitch-

[tal-dabah-blog]

*Hope you don't mind a snarky bitch making herself comfortable with her arms folded on top of your head. Chicago's hardly a small world, but then, Tal's happening across someone she knows here, Walter specifically, isn't wholly an accident.*

Selling sperm, huh? Any good insight from the birds on that?

[fdsfjdsfjkf93723679267-deactiva]

well i already know im going to hell

at this point it’s really go big or go home

[tal-dabah-blog]

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[rightbetweentheyes-deactivated2]

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[tal-dabah-blog]

Mmmhmmm...

*She nods absently, not registering his remark until the warmth retracts and she's very alone inside her pants. With an impatient huff, she wiggles out of her denim and underwear, and doesn't give him a chance to pin her back down once he's entirely stripped, himself.

She allows herself a short moment to enjoy the sight of his dick before her, never over the smug satisfaction of seeing that she still has this effect on him, and when she's done with the view for now, she wraps her arms around his shoulders, breasts close to his face level, and her hot cunt flush against his abdomen.* 

[windy-city-wonder-blog-blog]

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[tal-dabah-blog]

*She’s fully ready to say “fuck it" to stealth and just barge in, voice raised, finger pointed, but just the same, she pauses where she is the longer he talks.

It’s a fine damn mess they’re in, isn’t it; at this point Tal isn’t sure if Artemis has the same hangups she’s experiencing and, apparently, Walter too, or if he’s just jerking them around… Maybe to get even, though in all the time she’s known Art, she can’t say he's ever aimed a revenge remotely close to that vindictive at her. 

Regardless… Knowing Walter is torn on the matter, much as she is, doesn’t help matters at all; it only makes things worse. This is not who she is. Her anger wanes in her confusion, and with a frustrated growl, she opens the pantry door anyway.*

Fuck you, Walter! Fuck you, fuck Artemis, and!

Fuck. Just.

ARGH!

*That was eloquent. A perfect projection of her mixed empathy and anger, minus the empathy.

With another growl, really more of a shriek, she stomps off.*

[americanvalkyrie-blog]

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Yes, Tal, I have to think about this! 

-The pushiness of her remark makes him scowl, like what they’re doing isn’t something that could have life-altering consequences. Granted he’d think the same thing if it hadn’t been him who’d been graced with the rare moment of clarity. And even now a huge part of him wants to say fuck it and run over there while he still has the chance. Still. It’s not powerful enough- 

This ain’t… just about… sex for me, okay?! 

-The confidence that was in his voice only moments ago is completely gone, replaced with a deep sense of embarrassment and confusion. As much as he wants her… he wants more than this. He wants a lot more. And if he’s going to get involved with her for real then he wants to know if he can get it. And if trying to do so is worth the consequences it’ll bring. Turning red he unlocks the door and pulls it open- 

And you’re not the only person I gotta think about—I’m sorry.

-And then he scurries out before she can throw something at him- 

[tal-dabah-blog]

Are you seriously acting high and mighty at me?! Not even a few minutes after dry-humping me against the fucking wall? You're gonna act like this is my fault? You fucking started this! 

*Her face is a mix of humiliated rage as she stomps a foot heavily on the mat, the padding muffling any sound or impact that would have left her with some kind of satisfaction.*

If it's not about sex then WHAT is it? Wha-- 

GODDAMMIT WALTER!

*He escapes before she can finish her thought, so with a loud shriek, she kicks the mirror, regretting it immediately as her bare foot impacts; it doesn't shatter, doesn't so much as crack, just leaves her with a broad, jarring pain that spreads up her leg. She shrieks again, and limps her way to the showers, pissed off, embarrassed as fuck, but still aggravatingly aroused, and while it'd be easy enough to shake off the latter of the problems, she's feeling vindictive enough to rub off to the soldier without his permission.

It's the least he could do for leaving her out to dry like this.* 

[tal-dabah-blog]

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[tal-dabah-blog]

Damn right~

*Another moan rumbles in her chest as goosebumps pepper her skin with the path of his hand, fingers hot as the squirm their way down into her pants. Something about that cotton forming a barrier between his fingers and her cunt is electrifying, and she slides her hands under the collar of his shirt to grip at skin and muscle along his back, arching into his touch.*

Art, baby, you're too dressed.

[tal-dabah-blog]

*Jesus christ, woman, you’re in your forties, there’s no reason to be nervous like an adolescent… And still that doesn’t make her laugh come out any less nervous or breathless, not when he pulls her all the way against him, not when his hand roams to her face, not when his voice comes out low and hotter than he has any right to sound. And her grip on his other hand only tightens.

She doesn’t have a chance to retort once she gains a little more bearing— this whole encounter is dizzying— as his lips are on hers before she even registers. It doesn’t take her nearly so long to respond, though, and the hand that was holding his in a death grip suddenly moves up to grab his face and press back against him like her life depends on it.

And it’s so fucking worth it.*

[americanvalkyrie-blog]

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[tal-dabah-blog]

Yeah, you really fucking should.

*Her head falls back with a growl and her hands wander to his hair and grip. She doesn't have any time to recover, though, once he sets her down, and for several moments she's sure they're going to do this.

But he's hesitating. Staring at the damn lock and hesitating.*

What's w--

Oh.

*Maybe a small part of her expected this, and it's the part that still knows she's guilty and likes to remind her anytime she's around this man. That doesn't make this outcome any less disappointing, though.*

You have to think about this? I think it's a little past thinking time now, don't you?