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axl-ion · 11 days ago

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Mercs and night routine!

+ Pauling and Zhanna (as always)

Scout:

Between dinner and bed it's HIS time. Very occasionally he'll call his ma just to reassure her he's alive and well, but otherwise it's HIS fucking evening. And he WON'T be bothered by ANYONE (with few exceptions). Even tho he's fairly young with hot blood in his veins he will just lock himself in his room. If it's not a work day, he'll also go for an evening run, but otherwise it's just spending time on this own, very rarely going out to town for a drink or to smoke Mary Jane with Sniper.

This form of hermit crabbing is a habit he got from when he was still living with his fam in Boston. Since the house was almost always full, an evening in the locked room always helped him charge his battery again and fullfil his more self indulgent needs. It's also the time he is more likely to finally clean up any messes and put items back in their places. Scout usually spends this time listening to music and drawing. On days he feels very out of it, may grab some acrylic paint and paint. Around 9 o'clock he'll usually go take a shower (since he sweats so much he has to go twice a day) and clean his teeth, usually after being reminded about it by Soldier. After that he'll do some more art or listen to a shitty telenovela on the radio or any variety of activities. But quietly enough to not wake up Soldier. Scout usually crashes into sleep past midnight and is usually shirtless for it, covered by a duvet sheet. Has 2 pillows, one to hug and 1 to actually rest on.

Soldier:

A man of routines and strict army schedules. He is very strict about fulfilling all the things he considers the maintenance of body and spirit. Always sharp for all he scheduled for himself, even tho the only 2 activities with set time for him are getting out the bed and getting into bed. Otherwise he's much more loose with the schedule, just making sure the most important things from his bulletin are completed.

Soldier doesn't like lonely nights, he for sure does wants to be left alone when it comes to actually sleeping (although when Zhanna comes into the picture, they share a bed, for reasons explained in her section), but before that, he needs some company. It's usually around the night time he gets pretty upset for a reason he can't remember. Might do something with his past, might just be him not liking the darkness all too much. His running theory is that there's something that deliberately wants him upset and he wants to look for it, but it doesn't actually exist. It's just something in his head. If he got jam-sandwich cookies, it's around this time he'll treat himself to some, especially if the mission was a success. He always puts on clean clothes before bed and sleeps in the same sweatpants and tank top he'll be wearing the next day. Strictly sockless before bed. His room is very tidy, even if chaotically organised.

Pyro:

Despite their childish nature, Pyro is not afraid of the dark. She thrives in the dark, happily giggling if managing to get a bit of a spook on someone in the darkness. They just love it when they can move about with a little bother from their sleepy colleagues. Night time is the best time for him, even if they spend it hermitting/ rotting in her room after she got nothing to do. It's just that night is so great to resolve every mess that came about during the day.

She has effectively learned which Mercs they can bother at night and which not and how to claim the shower for themselves before Spy can do the same. After shower Pyro usually either watches some TV, since nobody is occupying the device after 11pm or he visits Scout, just parallel playing together. The thing they admire the most about Scout during night time is dedication to drawing, sometimes making her just gaze at his pencil dancing around on the paper. Other nights they come to Engineer, observing him tinkering with a project or listening to his stories, sometimes both. Sometimes she's just little malicious and plays a stupid prank. But one of the silly kinds. At midnight he locks himself in the room, finally taking everything off, washing herself again and putting on proper night clothes. They either sleep amongst all the things on their bed or put the entire blanket on the ground and then sleep in bed.

Demoman:

Tavish doesn't like the night time, but also likes it. The gloomy dark skies feel a bit homey to him. Sure, there's not enough fog to really feel like Scotland, but that's fine. There's just too many critters for his taste. He feels like everything that climbs out the hole in the night has climbed out to annoy him specifically. It's also the time of the day his lack of depth perception matters the least, because he's on almost equal footing with everyone in the dark.

Demoman if sober is really annoyed by the amount of bugs and other animals crawling out of their holes as evident by the paragraph above. But also it's the only time he may play games with Pyro, something akin to Floor is Lava or any game that normally requires a lot of depth perception, but in a dark room. It's also the time he may tinker with bombs some more, sometimes joined by Sniper observerving, sometimes by Spy sneaking up to look. He's respectful of them as long as they don't leave lit up cigarettes in the room. But usually he just goes for a drink, either alone or to a local pub, but if going to the pub, he only drinks close to the finish line. Never fully drunk. He got lost doing that once. He knows better. When it comes the time to finally sleep, he puts on pyjamas first and then goes to wash himself. Usually he's mote thorough with cleaning before bed than in the morning, because there's a lot of dust and residue on his skin. Sometimes falls asleep with the eye patch on and then his head hurts.

Heavy:

Mikhail both finds peace at night and gets the most anxious during this time. Peace because it means the work is over and he can take a bit of a breather. Anxious because it's already a new day in Siberia and that means new struggles for his sisters and mother. The darkness also brings memories. Memories he would like to leave behind. Yet the creepy crawlies creepily crawling about won't let him forget.

Heavy too isn't a fan of the creatures waking up in the night, but he's less vocal about it than Tavish. He's more like "if they leave me alone, I too will leave them alone". But he did complain about a rat in the base. Thankfully there haven't been any more rats in the base. After dinner Heavy generally reads the morning press if he didn't in the morning, or he reads it again, analysing the language in the text. Sometimes he collages a page to make a new article, trying to be funny. He hasn't mastered comedy yet. But it's better than boredom. Sometimes he'll read accompanied by a cup of tea. Sometimes he's with Medic, hitting on him or listening to his endless talks. He finds his voice very soothing. When going to bed he usually has shoes ready by his bedside just in case and night lamp on. He can't stand sleeping in complete darkness. Sometimes he goes to Medic if he can't fall asleep at all, just to hear something that's not buzzing silence for once.

Engineer:

Dell has never had a good sleep schedule. It's kinda his fault. Kinda just his upbringing. Like... Who needs sleep when you have problems to solve? Practical problems. Insomnia falls under medicine. Which isn't his field of expertise. But everyone needs some relax and he always finds his own ways to, aside from making things. He's got a bit better grasp on the importance of free time than his father or grandfather.

After dinner, Engineer usually gets a bottle of beer and goes to play his guitar for a bit. It helps him get into the mood. Sometimes he's joined by Demo's drunken singing. If he really feels like it, he checks on Scout's drawings, but only if Scout let's him. Other times he goes to discuss something with Medic or Heavy. He's pretty social after dark all things considered. Then he goes to tinker on his projects. For that reason he installed a lot of lights into his workshop, usually resulting in temporary blindness in anyone who enters the room. And he's capable of staying up to tinker for hours, usually in silence, but sometimes he has a radio turned on. He goes to sleep late for the most part, usually at around 1-2am. Usually he leaves the Gunslinger on the nightstand, sleeping with a bare stump, but sometimes he forgets.

Medic:

Medic likes the night for the stars in the sky and the spooky atmosphere. He takes joy in the darkness and colder temperatures. Like a night owl trapped in human flesh, he works better in the night. That's his time and by God, he would do his job at night if he could! Night is just so much fun! Wandering about gets easier without all that heat, streets become filled with much more pleasant people and he has all the time to do his experiments.

After dinner, Medic goes straight to work, but only takes someone onto the table (usually Heavy) at least 2 or 3 hours after dinner. Just so that most food has dissolved in the acid by the time he opens the patient. And he finds all of this exciting! It feels like he's truly in his element, practicing medicine so BLU has even tougher time against them (even tho Administrator makes sure no one has the edge). Sometimes he'll instead read a book, once tried to read one of Scout's comics, but found so many anatomical errors he couldn't bear it. Other times he'll practice violin, but if he feels like it, he'll try to convince Heavy to go with him to a local dance club. He's also trying to flirt with Heavy, it's just that their mutual flirtatious attempts fly over their respective heads. He goes to sleep late into the night, usually just in underwear and socks. He'll wake up sweaty anyways.

Sniper:

The crowned king of worst sleep schedule known to man, Mick is resting just because it's required of him. If it wasn't, he would be up all night looking at all the critters. He loves the critters. Unless they try to invade his van. But that's what the bug lamp is for. He had bought the night vision goggle just for that (they were a scam tho). He honestly likes the night in the desert. It feels really homey to him. Sometimes he imagines familiar structures in the night. Organises stars into familiar constellations, instead of these new and strange ones.

After dinner, he puts the leftovers into the fridge in his camper and then goes to call his parents. Usually does it at a lamp post, but there were situations where he had to call from the base. When that happens he usually keeps it brief, so nobody laughs at him (not like anyone actually would). The call is a mix of casual calm chat and Sniper's parents' disapproval of his career choice. Every call he hopes this debate is already over and done with, but it never is. When he's back at the base, he usually hangs around his van and thinks about what to do. Sometimes he watches animals, sometimes he tries to drag Scout somewhere, usually successfully unless it really is one of those days. Sometimes he just has an edible and calls it a day. He puts the radio on, usually tuning in a Mexican broadcast. He doesn't understand a lick of Spanish, but likes the music. He cleans out his rifle, then enjoys a can of soda or beer, depends on what he has on him. He may also clean his van or he may do it on the weekend. On Friday nights he and Scout usually get high together (one of the few activities, where Scout is quiet... probably because he's not trying to outspeak his own brain). Sniper's sleep schedule is irregular, sometimes he goes to sleep at 1am, 11pm, 4am and so on. It's never enough sleep for him. He either sleeeps in his tank top and pyjama pants or like he came into the world. Nobody is gonna bother him about that.

Spy:

He was used to places other than this. And while he wasn't a city man all his life, he's very used to some level of noise, some level of darkness, sodium lights at night and working his job at hours where most people clean of guilt or even some of his targets are asleep. This feels... New, but also familiar at the same time. Like when he was just starting out as a little thief. Back then streets were quieter and darker. Or maybe they weren't and they just feel like that looking back. He can't decide. He can't decide on how much he loathes this place either.

Spy usually just spends time on his own at night, not inviting anyone into his room. Maybe he'll watch them from the window, usually observing Scout's evening run like that. Reminiscing about Scout's mother. Getting sentimental. Imagining what it would have been like if he didn't run away like the coward he is. He then goes away from the window and goes to do something else to get his mind off these thoughts. But sometimes he returns. Either to open the window so he can smoke inside or to watch the outside. Sometimes he utters something he would say to Scout, but knows that he'll never accept because of who is saying it. When everything has died down and there's no risk someone will bother him, he takes off his mask and washes it in cold water. Never gets rid off the smells absorbed into the mask. But it's OK. Not like his prime targets would bother smelling the air anyways. Not like some of them could even smell him out. He treats himself to a glass of wine, daily newspaper and a news broadcast. Comparing and gathering information. Analysing language to compare findings with Heavy in the morning. He goes to sleep at around 11:30pm, usually in a tank top and boxers combo, mask ready by his bed and knife under the pillow + one hidden in the bed frame.

Miss Pauling:

Flo at this point is questioning if there's something like good quality sleep or is that just advertisment? To her the difference between day and night is just in the colour of the skies and how safe it is to carry a corpse. She knows almost no rest or pausing. But also she barely knows anything else but constant work. Even spending time with the Mercs is a job for her. Has she ever had a night to herself? She doesn't know. Maybe it's better for her to not know.

Miss Pauling spends her nights working, just like she spends her days working. The plans, whatever they contain, won't fulfill themselves. And she is happy to play a pawn in them. Or that's what she's telling herself. Or maybe it's what she believes. She usually just takes care of whatever is needed, maybe gets a micronap in some sort of basement or wherever. Just 5 minutes to not crash down. It's the time she prefers to take care of targets at, provided she can't just lure them somewhere. She sometimes stops to observe people around, living life. Maybe she is jealous of them. Some envy. She can't decide for herself. She loves her job and that's a fact. When she's actually done, she goes home. Changes into an itchy pyjama, washes herself and then crashes into bed.

Zhanna:

Night was never friendly to her. Not growing up, not now. It's a scary time to be outside or inside for her. Something scary was always in the darkness. Whether it was a guard, an animal or something her mind has come up with. But she knows those things are just things in the darkness making up shapes. Still scary. The noises are the worst. Because she can't see the source of it. And that makes her anxiety spike up. Anxiety she's usually not aware of. And she hates it. When she arrived to America, she had weird time adjusting. Suddenly the night wasn't... Dark. Which was more unnerving than if it was.

Zhanna is the kind of person to switch to a state of mind similar to 'fight or flight' just that she's not running away, she's beating you up. Therefore she doesn't really do much after dinner. Thinking about activities to do would probably make her more nervous than she already is. If someone offers an activity for her tho, she'll accept. Usually playing cards. Card games have always been fun, especially with how versatile they are. Many cool games and cool tricks and shuffle types. That usually leads to accusations of cheating, but is it really cheating when you give your sisters better cards so they play with you for longer? Once she arrived to the states, she taught her husband how to play and also how to cheat in cards. Cheating in cards is fun in her book. Although she became interested in TV when they actually could afford one. Mostly anything in the evening broadcast. When she's finally tired enough to sleep (which can be at any hour) she usually puts on her nightgown, keeps the socks on and snuggles tightly next to Soldier. She trusts him to keep her safe from her fears. But she still keeps a pair of boots next to bed and the bedroom doors open at night in case she has to quickly run away from... She doesn't even, it could just be anything really.

#before anyone says anything i am fully aware that deserts get really cold in the night #(natural consequence of no trees)#but i will ignore that #tf2 #tf2 headcanons #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 miss pauling #tf2 zhanna #axelion headcannon post

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boimann · 2 years ago

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every time people draw the mercs with smooth skin and zero wrinkles an angel looses its wings and plummets to earth in a raging ball of fire

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #these men spend every day under the scorching desert sun most likely without sunscreen maybe with exception of spy #their skins is not going to be smooth at all they are dryed up like prunes #if it weren't for medic they would all have melanoma #also they're old #just a pet peeve of mine #tf2 fanart #tf2 all mercs

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cheemscakecat · 1 month ago

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DadSpy Gas Station

Spy was never particularly interested in the American gas stations. He didn’t have a reason to visit one.

RED delivered supplies to its bases, which allowed the Engineer and Medic a constant stream of new parts and scrap. It also meant gasoline for the merc’s vehicles. He and Sniper didn’t have to visit town to fuel up.

It was safer that way. It was better for Antoine to reserve his public sightings for things he had to do for work, or for activities he was interested in. It wasn’t like he was walking around with a paper civilian mask when he did go to town.

Gas stations had high foot traffic, traffic from absolute strangers. And they were known to be filthy. Spy was honestly more at ease surrounded by BLU team than he would be in a crowd of total strangers.

He didn’t understand why Jeremy insisted on visiting the gas station so often.

Scout didn’t take the time to cook for himself. Throwing together a bowl of repulsive cereal was about the extent of his culinary exploits. He didn’t bother to make sandwiches for himself, since he could always steal one from an enemy heavy anyways.

RED team didn’t really sit down to eat together, unless someone made breakfast or felt like firing up a barbecue grill. So most of the time, Scout was either going to the gas station to get chicken, or eating leftovers from the last bucket he bought.

A diet of meat, grease, sugar and radiation. It ate away at Antione sometimes, knowing how badly his son ate. He could have taught him better, but… that was not an option.

Neither was catering to the whole team with actual balanced meals. He had the skills, he had the supplies, he just- No. Not again. He couldn’t bear it.

Besides, it would be strange and seemingly out of character for him to start now. Spy’s throat stung at the thought.

“Hey Spy? I can’t get my motorcycle to run. Engie’s gonna fix it up later but uh… Do ya mind taking me to the gas station tonight?”

Antione blinked dully at his son. If Jeremy was asking him, it meant the others were annoyed or busy.

“For food?”

“Yeah. I’m outta chicken.”

Good. That slop was an insult to the birds that died to make it. And Scout virtually lived on it.

“Perhaps you should eat something else.”

“Aw come on, Spy!”

“Well, you could. There’s always a few things in the team fridge, it wouldn’t take long to cook something.”

Jeremy was quiet for a moment. And for a moment Antione dared to hope his son would listen.

“I’m tired Spy. I don’t feel like dirtying up a pan or anything tonight.”

Spy scowled. Of course he didn’t want to bother. Didn’t want to put in the effort to make a halfway decent dinner, to improve his health even slightly. Was it truly so hard to fry something in a pan, to heat some canned soup in a pot?

The others sometimes refused to humor Scout for this exact reason. The shared fridge was open to everyone, barring leftovers or anything claimed with a note. It was worrying how much he chose to eat out, the same thing at that.

“Please? I thought my bike was workin, I swear.” Spy knew that was true. Scout’s bike probably just needed extra maintenance from so much use. Antione felt his shoulders sag.

“Alright. Just this once.”

“Alright! Yeah!”

“But don’t eat that garbage in my car.”

——————-

The gas station in Teufort was about as grimy as Spy imagined it would be. A sun bleached sign with the chicken restaurant’s logo was attached to the wall outside. It wasn’t a franchise that had standalone locations like other “fast food”. Antione figured it wasn’t very popular.

Inside, the small store was stocked with factory foods. The kinds of strange, empty foods made on a conveyor belt that Scout ate as snacks. Thankfully Bonk Cola was not available. Saxton Hale’s company made that poison for the war effort, same as the kidney pills Sniper took whenever Medic fixed them.

Antione wasn’t really sure why he bothered walking in. But he still found himself scanning the room for the hot food options, for the things Jeremy might also eat.

There was a case of donuts that caught his eye. Donuts weren’t healthy, but Spy had a soft spot for pastries and confections. At least the ones that weren’t prepackaged, fake chocolate covered styrofoam like the Mini Milly snack cakes.

He decided to buy one. Scout was going to make a purchase of course, but Spy was a masked man loitering around. He felt compelled.

Antione’s shoulders were stiff and he knew he looked out of place. The people of Teufort were odd, and he was always on edge in a public place anyways. He watched Jeremy’s exploits as he pulled the pastry out of its paper bag.

Scout was chugging a “slushee” drink and dousing a paper box of corn chips in some kind of sauce. It was caution sign yellow, and Jeremy dumped canned olives on it. Repulsive.

Spy felt that stinging prickle in his throat. Look away. Think about something else. This was not the time or place to cry. Antione could grieve the fact he wasn’t there to teach Jeremy what real food is, but not in front of him. Or these strangers.

He turned his attention back to the donut. He had been most curious about the one coated in cane sugar. Crumbs of it were already catching in the stitching on his gloves.

Spy bit into the pastry. It was dry. He had figured it might be, since this wasn’t a donut bakery. They probably got them from some other place. But the raspberry filling was what bothered him.

It tasted of sugar more than fruit. The tartness of the raspberry was lost, and it didn’t even have seeds. The sugar taste was, for lack of a better word, artificial. Spy turned up his nose at it.

He’d made better syrup at 8 years old, being yelled at by father for burning himself on hot liquid sugar.

Antione looked up again and Jeremy was making a mess. He’d poured the mystery sauce on some chicken and was getting it all over his face and arm. The chicken in question came from under a lamp, as did the other hot foods.

Spy looked at the spinning hot dogs and sighed. They were so much better grilled, and even Soldier knew how to do it. There was so much better than this in America, better donuts made fresh, better chicken made by other restaurants.

He’s never going to listen to me. What do I do?!

Antione threw the dried up pastry away and walked back to his car. He refrained from smoking for the sake of the gasoline pumps nearby. But he really could have used a smoke.

In that way he was a hypocrite. He knew that. Scout didn’t take up the habit, thank God.

But food was so much more than filling your stomach. Despite father’s insistence that everything had to be perfect, there was actual value in food. To take pride in making something good, something worth serving to others. Something worth sitting down together to eat.

There was no benefit to smoking except keeping his taste buds exactly the same as they had been for so many years. Spy couldn’t bear the thought of what would happen if he didn’t.

But good food was what gave him energy, what counterbalanced his poor health decisions. A person could change what they eat and begin to feel better. To eat the kind of thing they’d feel comfortable serving to someone else.

Jeremy chose the chicken to serve a potential date, back when Spy tried to coach him. He was comfortable serving it to someone else, and that made Antione very sad.

“Hey, you didn’t have to throw that away.”

Scout had returned to the car.

“Throw what away?”

“The donut. You gotta stop wasting food.”

He had thrown the cold, leftover chicken on the floor too. Scout hadn’t forgiven him for that. Antione let himself sag in the drivers seat.

“It barely constitutes as food to me, Scout. I just… I don’t want to fill my stomach with something like that.”

“Well some people would have been happy to eat it if you didn’t want it. We can’t all be picky.”

You could now, you have mercenary money. You could eat whatever you wish.

Merriam chose not to take money and that left Jeremy without. Antione wasn’t so blind that he couldn’t see that. But now was his chance to try new things, and he kept going back to the same cheap, unhealthy food. Food that didn’t even taste good.

I don’t know what to do.

“Nobody should have to eat this filth Scout, I know that…. But you don’t have to.”

“You wouldn’t understand. I didn’t ask to be lectured by a snob.”

“A snob?”

“Yes. A snob. We can’t all be fancy Frenchies, so why don’t you stop acting like it!”

Antione didn’t want to drive anymore but he forced himself. If Jeremy thought he was a snob, he should have seen the “elite” customers.

So many rich people just ate whatever was the most expensive, whatever got them the most attention. Spy had always preferred serving the guests who saved up to visit France and try something they’d never had. They were always more grateful, more curious.

Scout was never going to branch out. He was never going to try better food, French or no. He would never understand what he was missing.

“Can you pass me a cigarette?” Antione knew he was in no condition to take his eyes off the road. He needed to not cry behind the wheel.

“Fine. Enjoy the notes of rubber or whatever.”

#tf2 #tf2 spy #tf2 scout #dadspy #Angst #angst fanfic #DadSpy angst #Tf2 headcanons #I know it’s not Missing in Action but it is relevant still.#Also Spy didn’t intentionally leave Scout in a food desert growing up.#Spy would like actual soul food fried chicken. It’s just the Chester’s/Chicken Express quality stuff he hates

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luckydoee · 9 days ago

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Wait…is this fucking play about us?

Scoutbot trying not to crash out over his dads situationship

Good old fashion freedom fries :3

Posting some old drafts now that I’m feeling much better

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 spy #tf2 soldier #tf2 shitpost #freedom fries #soldierspy #tf2 robots #gmod #gmod screenshot #gmod art #robot yaoi #welcome back me #feeling much better mentally #could not desert this account I’ll try and make more wholesome goofy stuff #but still some spicy stuff tho

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lorenzodalessandro · 3 months ago

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“Between Paris and Algiers, the mechanic-diplomat surpassed by spies”

Article illustration for the Revue XXI

http://instagram.com/lorenzodalessandro

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carltheclown · 6 months ago

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Valentine's Kisses

Gardener loves kisses, whether it be giving or receiving them

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stardust948 · 1 year ago

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Fun little outting

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afrenchwriter · 1 year ago

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(A little update and thank-you note)

I've been working hard these past months on my new project, The Man of the Desert (I will make a proper post one day, @sabotage-on-mercury, I swear!), and I decided to finally start publishing it...

Meanwhile, For His Eyes Only keeps receiving so much love, and I am in awe, and grateful beyond measure to everyone reading it still, leaving kudos, commenting it, sharing it - someone even created an excellent playlist for it, and someone even translated it into Russian and is planning to write an extra scene for it (thank you again, @ts-spidey)! It's been a real joy to create this story, and it brings me so much happiness to see it thrive and bring joy to other people, too. The power of art, always.

From the bottom of my heart: thank you ❤️

#the man of the desert #for his eyes only #good omens #good omens fanfic #truly amazing #spy Crowley and Q Aziraphale you will always be dear to me #explorer Crowley and pilot Aziraphale too #but that's another story...

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kritzenkriegen · 1 year ago

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[wip] god I just want to see them smile

#my stuff #wip log #I think I changed my mind I want snipes to look like he's telling a funny story while Spy's looking at him Like That #also girl help I want to use the Pheonix map for everything it's too pretty #I want to try to pull off some like light-purple desert dusk vibes for the lighting

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michaels-two-dads · 6 months ago

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Ok fine I’ll do it myself.

Desert Duo Spy AU (bulleted list of ideas):

Grian and Scar used to know each other in school. At some point, Grian kind of drifted off the face of the planet, and none of his old friends have seen him in years

Now, years later: Grian is a spy working for a company with somewhat nefarious intentions. He’s good at sitting and watching and gathering information, and he’s good at getting himself out of sticky situations. Most of the time. He has a lot of big ideas brewing in his brain but he hasn’t had the time to execute them yet. He’s good with a gun, and he likes gadgets a lot but it’s always 50-50 on whether they will make his job easier or harder. Lately he’s always trying to make things way more complicated than they need to be because he likes using gadgets so much. He insists that traditional methods are just “not interesting enough”

Suddenly, after a couple of bad jobs, Grian’s agency decides that he needs a partner. Someone to balance him out.

Enter Scar, who is now coincidentally a spy at the exact same agency as Grian, years after they stopped talking

Scar was initially deemed “too vulnerable” by the agency, who viewed his disability as an unnecessary risk in the field, but he’s proven himself as remarkably good at extracting information and talking himself out of any danger he finds himself in. Still, despite his success so far, the agency thinks he needs a partner to “prevent liability”. He’s seemingly unfazed by this, as with everything else, but it’s generally hard to tell what he’s really thinking at any given moment. He’s an expert liar, which makes it hard to tell if he’s ever telling the truth

The moment they get paired together, Scar recognizes Grian (and Grian recognizes Scar). Neither of them say anything about it in front of their superiors, but Grian feels extremely threatened by the whole situation. He knew that he did a good job covering up his entire history, but he hadn’t realized he’d done such a good job that even his own superiors didn’t know that he knew Scar. Also, they go by code names in the field, and no one is supposed to know each other’s identities. Inherently, they’ve breached protocol just by knowing one another, and by not disclosing that information immediately.

Grian is annoyed to be partnered with anyone at all, but then he’s Extra annoyed when it’s Scar. He’s actively hostile to Scar and doesn’t want to acknowledge the fact that they know each other. Scar is initially, secretly annoyed to be partnered with someone, but the moment he realizes who it is he’s ecstatic, he can barely contain his excitement. On the inside, though, there’s a little bit of hurt left over from the fact that Grian sort of disappeared out of his life with no explanation

Grian’s perception of Scar is already negative before he meets him, he knows him as some hotshot rookie known as “Agent GTWS”. This is what he then pretends his reasoning is for not liking him after they meet, when it’s a lot more about protecting his identity

Grian is bad at talking his way out of situations, Scar is good at it. Scar has a tendency to be reckless, Grian is more cautious. Both are good shots, both are good spies, Grian prefers to hide in the background and use gadgets, Scar prefers to go undercover and make friends. Their completely different approaches are meant to balance one another out, but at first, with Grian refusing to be cooperative, they really really clash, and their first day together is nearly a disaster

Grian is used to not having to care about anyone’s well-being except for his own, which means that at first there are several occasions in which he forgets to look out for Scar when it comes to his more dangerous ideas. Scar is terrible at looking for traps, and for a moment after a bomb seems to go off Grian thinks he actually might’ve killed Scar on accident, only for the save of realizing that he set up the bomb wrong, and all that happened was some smoke. After that, he nearly yells Scar’s ear off, and gets a lot more careful about warning him beforehand (a lot more protective of him, too)

Eventually, they make a deal. If Grian will agree to be cooperative with Scar for this one job, Scar won’t reveal Grian’s identity. (This deal is entirely Grian’s idea. Scar may allow him to believe that he would mess up Grian’s privacy, but he never actually says he would. He knows a bargaining chip when he sees one, and he isn’t going to argue when Grian proposes the deal.)

#anyways #desert duo spy au

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