Come to die?
Come get your diagnosis...
Unless you are a RED. Zhen... go avey. Lest you vant to see your own organs become a scarf in front of your wery eyes? I can do zhat.
insaneblumedic replied to your post: Hmmnn… Hear /about/ you? I’d rather hear you scream… but zhat’s just me… -sneers slightly-
[ I never got it! ; A; ]
OOC; Oh goodness, stupid Tumblr. >:C Well I had just said that I’m squeamish as heck is why, which I probably said in the first place, anyways. xD Specifically with GUTS N’STUFF I’M ALL HO GAHD, Which is probably why I have a character more keen on bludgeoning then rifling around in innards (not that I have anything against this, of course, insane mercenaries ftw.) BUT. If you’d like to draw that, you’re more than welcome to (I’d feel bad since I failed to draw you something initially D8) THEN ASKED WHAT YOU HAD IN MIND? Then that was it. -NODS LIKE A DERP.-
[ OOC: Oh don’t worry!! I wouldn’t draw anything that you would be uncomfortable with! ; v; It would just be like a minor meeting or some thing— like Kara taunting Leroy, and Leroy being all NEEUGHGKJLHSJFLKSD.
But if I ever do draw some thing that involves guts or the like, I’ll definitely tag it so you can avoid it! I always try to respect people’s boundaries. :> ]
(Source: suck-ten-million-dicks)
@ tragicspy
There were alot of things he hated; it would take forever to count them all, but one thing of that huge hate-pile was leaving the sewers.
Sure, he also hated to live down there, but at least it was somewhat safe. He knew his way around, it was barely possible to catch him by surprise and the dark corners made it easy to hide.
In the worst case he could still escape through the water, in there he was faster than any normal human.
Yes, if he acted a bit careful there was nothing to fear.
Other than now: Being outside stressed him, it made him nervous and his tentacles adopted the color of the dark ground, at least the dusk gave him a feeling of not being completely visible. He was even wearing his balaclava, something he barely did these days.
Moving was hard, by now the tentacles were already sticky and it it was nasty to drag them over the ground. Once again he wondered what he was doing here.
Every little sound made him startle and he wished, not for the first time, that his watch could grant permanent invisibility.
It had no use: He had to listen and be alert. The air was full of noises but then he heard something that made him freeze: It was a human sound.
He cloaked and just stood still, trying to find out where the origin of this sound was lying.
Kara still couldn’t believe what he had witnessed— he’d heard rumors of those types of Spies, lurking in the shadows and hiding themselves away from the others. But he never imagined that the rumors were true, or that he would ever see one. Taking a few steps back after the Spy had cloaked himself, he took careful measure to keep his ears open- to listen to the abnormal sounds of slithering instead of the steady footsteps he was used to.
Taking the left ramp down from his little perch, he slowly surveyed the area, narrowing his eyes while slightly adjusting his spectacles. “I saw you…” he whispered, glancing left and right as he took out his Amputator, keeping up his guard. A snarl crept onto his features as he moved towards the position he had seen the tentacled enemy, despite even knowing if he was still there or not. Obviously the Spy had come to some reasoning to cloak himself— no one would just waste their cloaking time for nothing.
“Come out, come out, vherever you are…” Kara continued to whisper, his fingers gripping tightly on the handle of his melee weapon.
(Source: insaneblumedic)
@ tragicspy
He sniffed at the air, enjoying the slight tinge if iron he could pick up— it had been a full day of fighting, and his hair was all ready matted with blood, so as not to let it get any more in the way Kara had pulled it back in a loose, lazy ponytail. His bright gray-blue eyes shifted back and forth, surveying his surroundings from his small hideout behind a shed. Some thing was a miss…
Spitting out a bit of red-tinted saliva, he adjusted his gloves before slipping out into the open, making sure to keep his ears open to any one nearby that may need his assistance. But instead, he heard some thing very different than the call for his help— it was almost a slithering-like sound, and he wrinkled his nose, glancing around him. “Vhat..?”
Running up a short ladder, Kara peered over the edge of a lookout- spotting some thing he’d never have expected to in his lifetime. It was a Spy— a RED one, too— and he was half… sea creature? His eyes widened with disbelief, and a small sound left his throat- possibly loud enough to have him spotted.
deerdoll & youse-all-suck started following you
Hallo, schöne mädchen ♥
…
Und,.. RED Scout… -narrows his eyes-
bughawnalangit started following you
Hallo, fellow BLU. -takes her hand and kisses it- ♥
wuollet Asked: Oh thank you for the follow. :) You didn't have to.Ze pleasure is mine. ♥
Open RP :
The dust clouded around his heel as he stamped out the life of some insignificant insect, a smile creeping up along his features. Kara never really was all there, even in his youth- but his father put that to good use on the battlefield, showing him the ropes on how to be an offensive Medic. He looked up, adjusting his spectacles behind stray locks of blood-matted hair, eyes shifting about as he took in his surroundings. It was quiet, and had been for a while now.
Nothing had happened so far that day, and it was boring him beyond belief— to the point where he had begun Uber’ing himself to pass the time, on and off without a slight care in the world. He wasn’t stationed with any one, which pestered his mind even more than being bored— it made it much worse, to be frank. Usually when he had nothing to do, he would tease his team mates with words and gestures, mostly consisting of making them miserably uncomfortable. It was all for kicks on his end, but they never seemed to appreciate it as much as he did.
But today was much different. Literally nothing had happened so far, and Kara was slowly wondering if they had run off without him, calling for closer Medics to help. Leaning against the wall, he pulled off the glove of his left hand with his teeth, and began to pick at his nails. He couldn’t feel danger any where close— couldn’t smell sweat or blood, or gun powder. Nothing.
It was devastating him.
