@zehypocriticaloath | previous

The ravens bobbed their heads in excitement as the Medic called out to their beloved owner. From a far corner of the wing a curtain was swiftly pushed aside by a bloodied hand. There was a scrutinizing scowl on his face. The dark, almost cassock-like robes of his more morbid, custom looking uniform was flecked with just the slightest hint of visceral splatter. At least he wasn’t wearing the beaked mask or hat.

“The Spy?” His bright eye burned with ingenious wit. “He’s a piece of shit. Please tell me you took his head. He obviously isn’t thinking with it.”

Picking up a rag to wipe off his hands, the much shorter man strode briskly and confidently across the expanse of his lab towards him. He walked with the crisp. rhythmic cycle that could easily give one the idea of a military step. Giving him a wild grin, he gestured towards him in surprise. “What are you doing here? Not that you’re not welcome. I usually get some hint from my brother that you’re coming.” His expression fell, darkening. “Are you in trouble? Who do I need to kill?”

The ravens overhead in the rafters crowed along with their own laughs. They were tittering sounds of mocked human sounds, but they worked well enough for the occasion. Aldous took the moment to properly wash his hands before returning to him. With a silent gesture he motioned towards the stove. It was clear he was asking him if he wanted coffee.

Fritz couldn't help but smirk at the dramatic entrance, and he shook his head as a hand reached up to beckon Poe down. The biggest raven would move if he damn well felt like it, but it couldn't hurt to try.

"I'm not on the clock right now. Besides, wouldn't you be suspicious? Seeing my gangly BLU self in your base for the first time? Nein, he gets one free pass. At least until he starts to piss me off on the field. Poe, get down here and love me, you rude ass chicken."

For as taller as he was, Fritz rarely commanded any room that Aldous was in. The elder German held attention absolutely, and without question. In his own domain, Fritz was very much a visitor, and the inquiry as to his motives for the visit earned a cheeky grin.

"Your brother doesn't see everything. I dodge spies for a living, he can't catch me every time." Fritz gave up his quest for Poe's affection at the shift in his master's tone. "I'm not in trouble, and this may come as a shock, but I am a paid mercenary, I can handle my own people who need to be killed."

Fritz almost missed the gesture as he squinted for a look at Lenore in the rafters, and Aldous was given a nod. "Oh yes, always. I'll never turn down coffee."

He craned a neck behind the curtain to see the latest victim, well-deserved, he was sure, and thought better of it. Sometimes, when it came to both Haswells, it was best not to know. Though, while the man had his coat off and his back turned, Fritz turned a critical eye on Aldous instead.

"I've seen scouts with more meat than you, am I going to have to start meal prepping for both of us again? I'll fucking do it. Human needs, Aldous, you're a doctor, you know what they are."

Hmph. Am tinking dat ef all peeple are seeing Doktor as es wicked man who tortures for fun... den are not knowing Doktor very well.

[x] @zehypocriticaloath

The cold tile of the floor was unfamiliar under his bare feet. This place didn’t feel inviting, though the stranger assures him of his assistance to creatures like himself. The stories that his ancestors passed down through generations and generations of mers told of humans most wicked and foul. Something like cold eyes and rough hands, deceiving smiles, and false promises. The man before him reminded him of those humans. His natural instinct kept him planted behind the examination curtain, peeking out, gripping the fabric with his claws that it bunched awkwardly.

His body language gave him away. Anxious flickers from his face to the floor and burning cheeks from the humility of being so easily read. “I--......” Marius struggled, rattling his brain for the right words. He was caught in his jaws. One faulty step, and they’d snap and trap him. Right? “Yes. M-My ancestors, they...they warned us about humans. Humans that would...fool us to gain their trust. So they could....so they could capture us. H-How do I know you won’t?”

Where that ounce of courage came from, being so bold to demand proof that he wouldn’t trick him, he had no idea. It wasn’t like him to protect himself with confidence.

Checkup (zehypocriticaloath)

He wanted to go everywhere. Like a blackbird freed from its cage, all he wanted to do was fly. Rico was given leave to reside in or around any base he chose, and as someone who’d been to a lot of them- albeit for very grim reasons- he couldn’t wait to go back without having to kill everyone there. But first things first. Mr. Hale had wanted him to get a thorough checkup- he doubted, he’d said, that his captors had been terribly interested in his physical health, and he wanted to make sure his future right-hand gunman was in good shape. There were as many Medics under RED/BLU’s employ as stars in the sky. He just had to pick one. It was an interesting choice- he didn’t want to be coddled, but on the other hand, he didn’t want to wind up some cackling mad scientist’s experiment. Rico kept settling on one name. He wasn’t sure why- last time he’d encountered the man what seemed like forever ago, Rico’d done some pretty awful things to him. And yet, in a way, that’d prove he wouldn’t take it easy on the teamless Sniper. Riding out to 2Fort, he probably gave the mercenaries there quite the startle as he rode right into the RED base, bold as brass, tore through the halls in a cacophony of screeching rubber and revving engines, and teleported to Coldfront, bike and all. Parking the machine in the teleporter room and pocketing the keys, he loped through the halls, hat pulled down, acting like he was supposed to be there, until he wound up in the medical wing in front of a certain door. A. Haswell. Someone, perhaps some joker or maybe even the Medic himself, had etched a crude little skull into the nameplate. Snickering a bit, Rico cleared his throat and knocked. Maybe would end up that experiment after all. But then, maybe he’d deserve it.

@zehypocriticaloath || [X]

The sight of his face and the change of his tone upon her answer never gets old whenever anyone heard she have children. Of course at age 35 and still a mercenary, it would be still be a shocker. Natasha dared not smile to not accidentally irk the older man by his own shock.

“Of course not, doctor. I’m not stupid. I had them moved away.” Her hands clasped together behind her back and now she can smile, though softly and unseen due to her mask on. “Yet my daughter is still the cheeky girl to come all this way to visit.”

"what if I moved to cold front? there is less bugs which is sad, but there are my favorite bird boys to bother."

Truth Serum: Since we are being candid today with the truth... heh... tell me, do you feel pride in how far you've come? In all the obstacles you've faced? And do you feel you've grown from your experiences?

Russell had to think about the answer. But after a few seconds of silence, he spoke up.

"I, I guess..." Russell said. It always sounded like he was bragging, and he hated that, "I, I still got, got a long way to go of course. I, I still have a lotta issues, but, but just, just like always, I, I just gotta keep, keep working through them."

He rubbed at the back of his neck.

"But for, for what I've, I've managed so far... I uh, I think I am proud for, for getting through them and, and as far as, as I have, and I uh, I think I've grown too. I know I've um, I've not had the best time over, over some of the, the course of, of my life... but I've, I've still learned and, and grown from it all... th-thank you for, for giving me, me a chance to, to think about that, Aldous."

Of Medics and Blooddrinkers (closed for zehypocriticaloath)

@zehypocriticaloath like my TF2 Verse Starter Call.

So this was Coldfront, where he was to be assigned until further notice. He made sure to bundle up a little bit until he got inside. It was indeed very, well, cold. 

But that suited him, longer nights and shorter days worked very well for him indeed, given his... status. He was already strolling through the new to what would be his new office, a confident stride in his step.

On seeing a man, he gave him a quick wave.

“Evening,” he called out, with a little grin. 

@zehypocriticaloath

Next stop: Coldfront. The place most definitely left a sour taste in William's mouth, after having been cut down prematurely by Aldous and Alexei years back.

It was time for some payback.

He had never been to Aldo's office, but Hanna had, and it was almost like muscle memory to get there. He pondered the whole way there on just how to exact his revenge. Could go in guns a-blazin', but... but this was a more complex man than that, and William did enjoy a good game of cat and mouse.

So when he got to Aldo's office, he rapped gently on the door and went in. "Hey, Doc? You in here?"

@zehypocriticaloath cont.

Oh, he can hear the birds stirring up in there. JJ grins, gathering snow up for another ball and chucking it at the window. He’s careful not to compact them too much as not to break the glass- god knows that could turn a heartfelt reunion into an actual murder scene.

Poffs are followed by a storm of caws and he can only hope Poe will follow behind Aldous to see who was causing the disturbance, trusting the corvids natural curiosity.

Once he hears the door, only seeing a tad from the outside and the snow blocking out most the window, JJ decides to wait for Aldous in plain sight- better idea than to try scare the old doctor, he might spook him dead.

@zehypocriticaloath

The RED spy must have been new, because it was not the veteran who more or less left the enemy medic alone when he made his way into their base. They had an understanding. The sniper, well. That had been a few headshots before Fritz had been allowed to enter the base unhindered. He wondered if his quarry hadn't threatened that truce into existence.

This spy, he'd never met. It didn't matter, Fritz was a medic -- their favorite prey. The whisper of a dropped cloak and the rustle of expensive fabric lifting to plant a knife in his back was a song he knew well.

Fritz shot to the left and grabbed the Spy's hand, and spun the shorter man into a rough pin against the concrete wall. A French curse escaped him as the revolver was taken and tossed away. Fritz held him fast and leaned close to his ear.

"I'll tell you what I told your elder. I'm a fucking medic, I have no use for your company intelligence. Killing your teammates is no more satisfying in the dead of night than it is on the field. I'm just here to see Dr. Haswell."

"The doctor? He'll gut you worse than I ever could!" the spy's genuine confusion earned a smirk from the medic, who turned and shoved him down the hall toward his weapon.

"I'll take my chances."

Without another word, the medic strode to the Haswell lab, knocked twice, and let himself in. He was welcomed to the sight of ravens preening in the rafters, and he gave them all a grin.

"Aldous? You here, old man? Not impressed with your newest recruit, by the way, he needs some work."

^previous -------- "Oh... does not matter. If are busy I can vait." Not that he minded. Aldous never had a problem with his Heavy watching him work, for the most part- unlike far too many people, Alexei was quiet enough not to be a distraction. He also didn't touch anything he clearly shouldn't. He just liked to watch, sometimes playing with the sleek unkindness of ravens that Aldous kept. Alexei wondered if Aldous knew how graceful and brilliant he looked while he was working. He always seemed to know exactly what he was doing, expression so intense, eyes brightening (even the blinded one) whenever he found a solution to some problem he'd been working at. In the Russian's mind, completely gorgeous. But he also knew that Aldous' real passion was the piano. Always the perfectionist, he hated making the slightest mistake, his finger touching a single incorrect key. And yet, he also looked so peaceful, even while wearing that same expression of intense concentration, his beautiful fingers dancing across black and white with, yes, surgical precision. Alexei always did what he could, from time to time, to nurture that gift. "Es just sad to tink of dat beautiful piano gathering dust. Do not know if anyvun es going into arthaus anymore." The person who'd established it, first as a dance studio and then branching out to create spaces for literature, music, and visual arts, had left some time ago with his beloved. The proud and poisonous Oleander had taken off with the bitter Kowhai to the latter's homeland. He wrote often- it wasn't an unusual sight to find his Medic poring over the latest piece of correspondence from New Zealand.

OC AESTHETICS

bold what applies as beautiful, to your muse ( does not necessarily denote something they would do, but something they appreciate ).

I. THE FAIRY.  chipped nail polish. glitter highlight. tall trees with smooth bark. tangled hair.   the taste of cinnamon sugar. talking too loud and too fast.  overgrown flowers in your hair. crumbling buildings reclaimed by nature.  flirting.  walking home at 3am with no coat. platonic hand-holding.  blowing smoke out of your nose. dragonfly wings.  chaotic good. freckles.  fairy rings. secret meetings. gender nonconformity. leather. smudged eyeliner. forbidden fruit.

II. THE REAPER.  computer errors.  a shiver down your spine. haunting beauty. hard liquor. crowns of thorns.  shadowed alleyways.  decaying plant matter.  shattered mirrors and broken glass.  corrupted memories.  stopped clocks. the scent of stale cigarettes.  tattered black hoodies.  walking your friends home.  the crescent moon.  the sea.  a graveyard on a foggy day.  cold rings on cold fingers.  absolution.  looking out the window of an airplane.  soft kisses.

III. THE WITCH.   graffiti.  pretending to know what you’re doing.  worn paperback books. growing up too fast.  parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. lace and combat boots.  moth wings.  candles on every surface.  a weathered deck of cards.  turning the music up.  fireflies in jars. calloused fingers.  drawing on your skin. sunlight filtering through clouds.  petrichor. a dying rose in a jar. wearing a crystal pendant. illusions and spells.  black cats.  mint gum. chapped lips. dirt under your fingernails.  the cycle of life and death.

IV. THE WOLF.  murders of crows. frost-bitten leaves. wolves howling at midnight. knocking on your door.  leaving food out for stray animals.  the twang of an acoustic guitar.  honey.  tiny red buds on trees.  claw marks on the walls.  golden eyes.  slightly too long stubble. sharp canines. soft, thick fur. hunger. a small cottage in the middle of the woods. fingerless gloves. sleeping on the forest floor. always finding your way back home.

Stolen from @zehypocriticaloath

— 8 PEOPLE I’D LIKE TO KNOW BETTER !!

tagged by: @ooyaji

tagging: @ethxrealworld @voiicxless @zehypocriticaloath @xmenageriie

ONE ( NAME / ALIAS ): Zinzi/Zinzabeth/Ya Dumb Bitch

TWO ( BIRTHDAY ): Nov. 30th

THREE ( ZODIAC SIGN ): Sagittarius

FOUR ( HEIGHT ): 5′3” (I’m short!)

FIVE ( HOBBIES ): video games, book club, music, food, collecting vinyl figures and dice, instagram

SIX ( FAVOURITE COLOUR(S) ): lavender, mint, light blue, cream, dusty pink, black, not a color but SPARKLES

SEVEN ( FAVOURITE BOOKS ): Practical Magic

EIGHT ( LAST SONG LISTENED TO ): Magic, Moe Shop

NINE ( LAST FILM WATCHED ): The Night is Short, Walk on Girl

TEN ( INSPIRATION FOR MUSE ): Magic and Alice Hoffman

ELEVEN ( MEANING BEHIND YOUR URL ): My muse is a sleepy witch

"We don't talk. I know next to nothing about you, but I see you often enough. Tell me your greatest desire and your greatest fear."

She has seen him too but never approached him before. She doesn't know his name or what he do in his office. All she can recognize from him is the gaunt look on his face, appearance, and his choice of birds. Nonetheless, she treated him normally as any teammate should do, even when she comes to Coldfront for a reason.

"My greatest desire and fear?" Now that's quite an icebreaker. Natasha drummed her fingers against her hip. "Fears, well, I'm not sure if I should tell that but desire, that is a bit far fetched, so I'll say for my children to have a better life than I do. Simple as that."