spybleu
The Blu Spy
A TF2 Blu Spy OC RP Blog
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Hearing the Ranger laugh again was certainly a decent sign that he was still conscious enough to catch the quips that Charles was giving. A little part of him enjoying the fact that the man seemed to have a good sense of humor; especially given the circumstances. It was amusing to think that someone on the opposite time would find him more entertaining that several of the mercenaries on his own.
Immediately Charles’s brows furrowed in a deeply sympathetic wince as the man cried out when he began to clean his wound. The irony was that the espion regularly fulfilled mission that could make the bravest man’s blood run cold, but tending to this Ranger, he felt bad for causing him more pain than what he was currently experiencing. Doing his best to be ginger with his dabbing until he was satisfied that he could be patched up.
“Ah, oui. I zought as much. Were jou at least successful?” He questioned idly as he quickly applied pressure to the wound with gauze. Loathing the feel of the warm crimson that was steadily beginning to seep into the leather of his gloves. With his free hand and teeth, Charles pulled open a large bandage to lay overtop the gauze he was pressing into his side. Hoping that it would at least be enough to keep him standing so he could find better aid with his Medic.
“I’m no Doctor, but I zink zat should hold for now.”
[SUPPORT] - sender pulls receiver's arm over their shoulder for support.
Arthur didn’t question someone pulling him up and away. It was the middle of battle and he was dazed from either shock, blood loss, or something else. He hoped they were taking him to medpack, or a Medic.
“Thanks,” he managed, trying to focus on who was half-carrying him. “Coulda let respawn take me, though.”
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When the door opened Charles’s gaze immediately took in the blood that was dripping down the side of the Sniper’s face, as well as the bloody knife he held. Quickly assessing the extent of the damage he could see, before leaning to peer around the gunmen to the dark camper behind him. Attempting to spot whomever the man had gotten into a fight with to better know what sort of scene he was about to step into. When he wasn’t immediately able to find anyone else but the injured Sniper before him, Charles turn his attention back to the only victim he could see.
“Are jou alright, ami? I heard screaming, and jou seem to be bleeding.” He explained as his green eyes flickered from the wound on his face, to the knife in his hand. Doing his best to work out what exactly was going on before he came to the door. His only conclusion being that, for whatever reason, the Sniper had done this to himself. It wasn’t fathomable that he had accidently fallen on the knife. However, he couldn’t imagine how he had earned that cut, unless there really was someone inside that he was unable to see.
“May I come in? Zat is going to need to be looked at.” Offering the option of help as he idly adjusted the hold he had on the plate in his hand, while steadily being drizzled. Those clean clothes he had changed into, slowly dampening the longer he lingered on the Snipers stoop.
(Combine)☂ Our muses get caught in the rain together. + ☃ My muse gives yours their jacket in the cold.
( Mick - @asktheteufortmercs )
From above a torrent of water poured from the sky in a thick river that was unleashed with a quaking crack of thunder. Soaking the earth below, and all the mercenaries who had begun their march back to the battlements when the end of battle was called. Charles immediately finding himself caught in the middle of it, paused with a displeased glare to the heavens. Condemning whoever was responsible for ruining the pack of cigarettes in his breast pocket, and for forcing him to track mud wherever he was going.
Catching sight of a few fleeing bodies darting into the now empty buildings of the battlefield, the lithe bleu followed suit. Using what agility, he could against the slick earth under his feet to quickly run inside. Nearly causing him to run head long into the sniper standing not too far within. Forcing him to catch himself on the gunmen to keep from knocking them both over, with a small apologetic smile.
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Again, there was a fine twitch to the espion’s smile as the Engineer shot him a small, displeased glance when his hand came to rest against his chest. Unable to help but show the slightest amount of amusement that a class he would deem rather level-headed, could be so hot headed instead. It was entertainment enough to watch the way the petite tinkerer regained his composure while at the same time removing his hand from his person; opting to instead hold it in his own as if he couldn’t help but touch him. Sensing simply from his body language and beating heart, that the action was certainly for more than met the eye.
“Oh, of course, cheri. I wouldn’t want jou to put jourself zrough too much for me.” Charles agreed in a sympathetic breath that could fool anyone listening into believe that he truly cared about any pain the other could be in. Giving Dell a subtle pout as he gently squeezed his hand. “Two dances will be perfect.”
With that said the lithe bleu used the hand that held his to gently guide the Engineer onto the dance floor. Fully intending on chasing in that promise, as it would seem odd if they didn’t at least join in once. Charles didn’t often have the time to dance like he used. However, as he pulled Dell onto the floor he fell into step as if it was only yesterday; of course, allowing the shorter gentlemen to take the lead as he assumed that was the part Dell would prefer. Having both lead and followed while dancing many times before.
“If zey don’t show up in ze next hour or two, we can call it in for ze night if jou would like.” He whispered in a more serious tone, completely unmatching to the doting expression the espion wore as he occasionally glanced at the people they passed. Both keeping up the act of completely enjoying himself, as well as scanning the room for who they were there for.
🖤
Dell nervously pulled at the black tie around his neck before placing his arm around the spies waist, holding the other close and trying his damndest to keep his smile up and genuine looking. Doing his best to hide the fact he was a damn wreck inside.
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This man can’t be fixed. I can fuck him though. Maybe that will calm him down.
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Oreo Ice Cream Cake
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It struck Charles as odd that the Snipers van would be so close to battle, when most others kept theirs parked scattered around the base. Then again, Snipers were odd creatures all on their own to begin with. Charles was unable to fathom how anyone could enjoy living in such a small space when they could have the whole base to call their home. Regardless though, he gladly accepted the jacket with a tighter pull of it against his body; grateful to have an extra layer that wasn’t as soaked as the ones he wore. Giving the rain pouring outside a wiry glance as he prepared himself for the journey back.
“Perhaps it’s nice for zose who don’t have to trudge zrough it.” Charles commented back with a faint lick of amusement traced across his tone.
“But, I suppose I should go before it gets worse.” He agreed in a subtly dramatic sullen sigh. Taking a few steps forward until the tips of his shoes nearly kissed the sheet of water filling the door way. Feeling the whispered breath of water droplets fluttering against his face from where the wind teasingly pushed them inward.
“Stay warm, tireur d'élite, and merci again.” Pulling the jacket up over his head to shield him from the downpour, Charles dashed back into the torrent of rain that immediately gulfed him. Silently cursing at whomever was responsible as his steps continuously began to stick into the wet earth all along the way; nearly causing him to slip more than once, and threatening to embarrass him for anyone to see.
By the time Charles reached the base he was more than soaked to the bone, with a thick layer of mud gathered on his shoes. Needless to say, it was more than unpleasant for the generally neat spy to trail filthy footprints to his room. Being more than willing to vent to the sweet, pure white, angora cat that waited for his return, as he quickly changed so he could then proceed to make his team dinner.
Hours later, after cleaning the kitchen and putting away the left-overs, Charles promptly carried a covered plate back to his room. Having long since realized that it was rather common for Snipers to avoid joining everyone for meals, he took it up on himself to bring the meal to one of them. Granted, it was hard to say whether or not the gunmen would even be awake at this time of night; most had long since retired to bed. However, Charles wanted to repay one kindness for another. Even if it meant waking him up for a moment to do so.
Gathering the now mostly dry jacket, the lithe bleu carefully made his way out of the base to the cool drizzly night. Keeping the plate in one hand, the coat hanging over his arm, and an umbrella in the other hand; Charles hopped from one solid patch of ground to the next until he found himself at the Snipers stoop. Nearly feeling as if his heart had fallen loose in his chest the moment he heard a scream from within. Putting every inch of him on edge as his whole being went on alert; automatically preparing for whatever danger or fight he might encounter.
Abandoning his umbrella on the ground, his feet carried him quickly up the steps. Immediately knocking on the door to grab the mans attention as he resisted the urge to simply barge inside. Not knowing if he had enough time to pick the locks, before whatever was going on inside would be over.
“Monsieur le tireur d'élite, are jou alright? Do you need help?”
(Combine)☂ Our muses get caught in the rain together. + ☃ My muse gives yours their jacket in the cold.
( Mick - @asktheteufortmercs )
From above a torrent of water poured from the sky in a thick river that was unleashed with a quaking crack of thunder. Soaking the earth below, and all the mercenaries who had begun their march back to the battlements when the end of battle was called. Charles immediately finding himself caught in the middle of it, paused with a displeased glare to the heavens. Condemning whoever was responsible for ruining the pack of cigarettes in his breast pocket, and for forcing him to track mud wherever he was going.
Catching sight of a few fleeing bodies darting into the now empty buildings of the battlefield, the lithe bleu followed suit. Using what agility, he could against the slick earth under his feet to quickly run inside. Nearly causing him to run head long into the sniper standing not too far within. Forcing him to catch himself on the gunmen to keep from knocking them both over, with a small apologetic smile.
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It was impossible to miss the lethargic chuckle that sounded from the Ranger, or the way he fumbled at his shirt to open it. Making it very clear that whatever wound he was hiding, was the one that was draining him of his consciousness. Hastily finishing the wrap around his thigh, Charles quickly scooted in closer onto his knee’s to better access the front of RED’s shirt.
“Allow me.” He insisted as his leather clad fingers gently brushed the others out of the way to finish the job he had attempted to start. “I usually wait until after ze date to undress a man, but I zink given ze circumstances, we can make an exception, oui?” His teasing was meant to give the Ranger something else to focus on, as he worried about him passing out on him. Not at all enjoying the mental image of others stumbling upon a spy they would eventually realize wasn’t their own, hoovering over what would appear to be a dead team mate.
Once exposed, Charles tore open another swab of alcohol as he assessed the bleeding cut on his side. Not bothering to warn the RED this time as he quickly cleaned the area as best as he could. Knowing that regardless of what he did, there was no cleaning up the mess until after he had been healed.
“Was it a spy or a sniper zat left jou zis scar?” He questioned as he worked; pondering over which of his teams has been the one to leave him in such a state. Guessing from the location and the buttle hole, that it had to be one of either as they were generally the most likely to carry both weapons.
[SUPPORT] - sender pulls receiver's arm over their shoulder for support.
Arthur didn’t question someone pulling him up and away. It was the middle of battle and he was dazed from either shock, blood loss, or something else. He hoped they were taking him to medpack, or a Medic.
“Thanks,” he managed, trying to focus on who was half-carrying him. “Coulda let respawn take me, though.”
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Describe your muse on anon and my muse will say if they would date them or not.
Bonus: Include the basic details: gender, age, height, likes, dislikes, hair/eye color, race, and anything else my character should know.
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4., 12., 25.
4. Do they have any verbal tics? Do they have trouble pronouncing certain words or getting their thoughts across clearly?
: I suppose, if you count thick accents as having trouble pronouncing words in another language?
12. Describe 5 unusual characteristics your muse has.
: I'm not certain if this question means physical characteristics, or about his personality. Either way, I can't think of anything particularly unusual about him.
25. Do they have any weird bedroom habits? Any unusual kinks?
: Wouldn't weird and unusual be a matter of perspective? I wouldn't say that he has any kinks or habits that would be considered uncommon. If you are looking for preferences, then I believe that is going to need to be another question.
#anon#spybleu#30 character development questions#I apologize if these weren't the answers you were hoping for
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02, 04, 10, 24
02: Who did you last say “I love you” to?
: "I can't say off ze top of my head when, but I would say most likely mon très cher ami, Madilin."
04: Are you insecure?
: "Are we all at least a little bit?"
10: When was your last physical fight?
: "Zat's a silly question given ze work I do. Yesterday, during battle."
24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)?
: "Truzfully, I can't say. I wasn't in school for very long, I'm afraid."
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""Touch my muse. Be descriptive or simple, tender or violent, fond or hateful— Anything goes.""
Charles gets a headpat from E.
(Not a thread starter, just a one shot. Boy deserves some affection!)
Feeling the soft pat to his head, Charles eyes lifted up from the book he had been reading long enough to stare dully at the center of the table. Immediately assuming that it was someone he knew who would dare risk a losing a hand, to pat him like he was a good boy. That mildly annoyed stare slowly slipping up from the tabletop to the gentlemen beside him. Catching him off guard by the less than familiar face of the older man, his subtle expression shifted to something more question than irritated.
"Might I ask what zat was for?" He question softly while his sea green eyes flickered curiously over the other. Taking in whatever information he could of him, with only what he could see.
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Whoever sent me the number asks, please specify which meme you are asking for. Merci.
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