bushmannsrules

[bushmannsrules]

(ooc; im so sorry i kinda dropped offline for a bit there LOL)

[bushmannsrules]

@isetheby

[bushmannsrules]

isetheby​:

The crunch of fruit is sweet and crisp and entirely arrogant. A series of warnings whiz by unvoiced, lightning fast: He better pay for it. He better not waste it.

Resisting the urge to grind his teeth, he reminds himself to save it. Save it and just do his job tomorrow. Still against better judgement, he hears himself mutter bitterly at his basket as he retrieves it from the floor.

“Good.”

As much as he disliked the other sniper, he wasn’t incompetent. He should know to aim for the upper torso.

Good? Good? Had he missed the part where he’d made fun of him?

Mick almost scoffed at that, but decided against it- pieces of apple were in his mouth, for one, and he’d rather not risk spraying them everywhere like some uncivilised arsehole. He also didn’t want to seem sour that Cecil hadn’t took the bait in quite the way he wanted, either. 

Swallowing, he took another bite, thoughtful for a moment as he pondered what his next course of action should be.

“Y’know, if I’d been usin’ my bow an’ arrah, that arm would’ve pinned to the wall behind ya.”

Their approaches to this job came down to a certain code of conduct and professionalism, but Mick was less rigid about what constituted as a suitable weapon to have at work. Playing Robin Hood when they were supposed to be taking things seriously had lead to numerous hilarious encounters from every member of Team Fortress, RED and BLU alike. Bringing up the Huntsman to The BLU Sniper would always guarantee some sort of frustration on his part. Especially as Mick was still a decent crackshot with it. 

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isetheby:

His grip on the orange twitches at the memory. Getting a sniper round through the arm first thing in the morning was no walk in the park. Nor is getting stuck in the building because all the reasonable exits would be in the enemy’s line of sight.

Scowling, he resists the sudden urge to pitch fruit into that smug sniper’s face. He could hear the smile without looking up and it was infuriating enough just to know.

If it were anyone else he would say nothing and move on. There’s nothing to be gained by rising to roundabout gloating.

Setting what he wants into the basket at his feet, he straightens to walk away. The bitten out response is sour.

“Y’missed.”

He knew it had worked. The fact he’d retorted was proof of that. The BLU Sniper wanted to act like he was above it all but, like hell he was. So when he stepped away, Mick felt a small twinge of irritation too, not appreciating that he was attempting to get the last word in before getting on with his day.

“I missed, did I? Well... thought I’d take a take a leaf out of your book, y’know. I was inspired by your tactic of never bein’ able to land a proper shot above the neck.”

Mick then picked up an apple, and crunched into it, adding to that disgustingly cocky persona he liked to put on when within ten or so feet of this particular man. 

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Medic’s presence was rare, but never an unwelcome occurrence. The sight of him usually meant that any injuries or pain he was sporting would be gone in a moment’s notice. However, there was also a very real possibility it was a Spy that stood before him, disguised as their team’s doctor. 

Letting his guard down around anyone who decided to invade his nest could be a death sentence, so his gaze came off the window he’d been poking the tip of his rifle through.  Facing Medic was the best course of action if a backstab might have been coming. He rose, and sidestepped to make sure that a stray bullet wouldn’t hit him from the window, and realised a moment too late that the quick action had been a bad idea. 

There was a small grunt of pain as Mick put weight on one leg in particular, wincing and baring his teeth in an attempt to remain stoic. There was already blood soaking through the fabric, though. 

“Yeah.” He admitted. “... Bullet got lodged in me thigh.”

𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊.

“Didn’t expect t’see you here, mate.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀“ Aheheh…  I  didn’t  expect  to  BE  here. ”

⠀⠀⠀⠀“ I’m  certain  you’re  more  than  capable  of  working  in  my  presence,  hmm ?  I’ll  be  out  of  your  hair  the  second  our  frontline’s  back.  In  the  mean  time… ”  And  then,  the  doktor  leaned  forward.  “ Are  you  INJURED?  I  might  as  well  continue  working  also. ” …He  sounded  more  playfully  curious  than  concerned.

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Admittedly, he could have just snuck past the enemy Sniper and left him to his shopping completely unbothered. If it had been any other BLU, that would be the course of action he’d take. Bickering or getting into altercations off the clock just wasn’t his style...

But... the urge to intrude on this guy had taken a hold on him. This guy... he had looked far too relaxed for Mick’s liking... 

“Yeah. Didn’t expect t’see ya out of the medbay so soon. You were left in a bad way the last time I saw ya.”  A familiar toothy grin spread across his face, and he knew that the sight, along with his comment, would incense him, even if he didn’t show it outwardly. 

The urge to taunt and tease... it was just too great. Mick knew it was immature, bordering on unprofessional, but he couldn’t resist. Something about this bloke always brought out a side of him that he didn’t experience with anyone else. The two had a personal beef that could only be understood by a merc and his direct counterpart; that sort of competitive streak. The urge to preen and show off, just to annoy him. 

“Didn’t expect t’see you here, mate.”

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“Didn’t expect t’see you here, mate.”

[bushmannsrules]

daddy

He just stares, stony-faced. There was no point dignifying that with a response.

[bushmannsrules]

g’day (promo)

i’m a semi active sniper from tf2 rp blog!! gonna be doing a soft reset. like or rb if you wanna interact, but please read my rules before doing so !!

mutuals only. selective. 18+ only. 

[bushmannsrules]

[bushmannsrules]

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄  𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑  𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄  //  𝐈  𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄  𝐈  𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋  𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋  𝐘𝐎𝐔  !    ⸻  * loud  ugly  coughing *  hello  hello,  is  this  thing  on ?  yeas ?  ahem.  hi  everyone !  this  here’s  a  reboot  of  my  very  own  𝐓𝐅𝟐'𝐬  𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂  blog !    if  you’d  be  so  kind  as  to  smack  th  shit  outta  the  ↺  &  maybe  even  ♥  while  yr  at  it,  it’d  be  much  appreciated !  hope  to  be  seeing  you  soon.  :]

[bushmannsrules]

(ooc; i’m tentatively dipping my toe back into possibly maybe returning to the blog...... perhaps. Been thinking about TF2 a lot lately)

[bushmannsrules]

When the teacher refuses to round your 1 up to an 8

[bushmannsrules]

@iwantnames​ said:  ludwig hadn't indulged in his artistic hobbies much the past few years, but every once in a while the urge resurfaced. the last handful of sketches had been from memory —— rough pencil work, resembling mick's lovely little owl, sir hootsalot, with a note on the back, written in a near - illegible stereotypical doctor - esque handwriting : ' he was wonderful to see! would love another visit sometime. '

The chicken scratch had taken a while for Sniper to properly decipher, but he recognized the handwriting to be that of Medic’s; no one on the base had writing that illegible, save for Scout, but this seemed to form a proper sentence so that ruled the Bostonian out right off the bat.

“Well, look at that, Hooty.” He said with a grin, comparing the sketches to the real owl in front of him, who blinked up at his owner with a slightly sleepy expression. “Ain’t that nice? Accurate, too... Really captured your likeness, there.” 

He’d have to arrange for them to have another visit again soon; meanwhile, he would put this gift in a drawer for safe keeping; until he found a proper frame for it, that was!.

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@lilolnumber​ said: slowly takes his shades off. puts them on himself

Mick had been falling asleep; as he was known to do during afternoons in the base when the rec room was quiet. Despite almost being completely out of it, he felt the light sensation his sunglasses being slid down the bridge of his nose, and after a moment, blinked awake to see that the Engineer was wearing them now, instead of his usual goggles.

The sight, in his drowsy state, made him chuckle.

“Mmn. Could’ve asked.” He teased, his mismatched eyes crinkling at the corners slightly. 

[bushmannsrules]

@isetheby prev.

“Alright.” 

He’d not expected him to actually listen to his request, which had come out in a moment of desperate frustration. Already, he’d been injured, and as he was about to see to it...  this joker decided to come around and introduce himself; albeit silently and with the serrated edges of a kukri, but, stil. Wouldn’t be able to give his all into this little battle if he was already injured now, would he? 

“You must be the BLU Sniper; been wonderin’ about you. Nice t’finally meet’cha in person.” Backing up slowly, like one would when trying to keep a snarling dog from full on mauling them, he made his way to a nearby first aid kit that lay at his feet, not daring to take his eyes off his quarry for even a moment. “No, I’m serious! Not met many other snipers in my time; or if I have, they usually keep it quiet.” 

With a nudge of his foot, the health pack opened, a small trail of vapour similar to the type their doctor’s Medi Gun gave off, fixing the wound right up in a matter of seconds. He rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and then pulled out his kukri. 

“Now we can get down to business.”

He lunged forward, sharp teeth on show in a wide grin as his eyes flashed dangerously.

[bushmannsrules]

“personals don’t reblog this”

personals: