#i've got so many Thoughts about oleg oh if only i could tell you how Genius i am.. later though <3

[buttercup-barf]

Well. Okay.

Under the cut are a couple Team Fortress 2 OC's and a lot of yapping related to them. Nothing particularly interesting related to the main game and its epic cast, sowwy.

Some less-coherent doodles trying to figure out The guy that I'd imagine as the main- [embarrassed but accepting sigh] Self-insert for the game. This is Oleg! He's an obnoxiously superstitious/religious Russian on the run after taking part in several riots, stealing a bunch of gear from cops, and also The Goat Incident. Weird little man. Or, I guess, not little, he is pretty tall, and very much an adult, even though he has something of a baby face for some weird reason.

The man's mostly just kinda grimacing miserably most of the time - the job of a mercenary pays well, but it's the people he has to work with and fight against that make it rough on him. He's just so tired all the time, and anxious about everything, and just wants his Goddamn paycheck and to stay out of prison. He can still get pretty mean on the battlefield (both in terms of the average Domination line and in terms of how bloodthirsty he can get), but hey, which one of these people isn't.

I like to think he's sort of a complete third piece to the Doctor-Firefighter-Policeman trifecta. All based professions in theory, but the mercs mirroring these professions in practice are first of all insane, and apply their tools in the effectively opposite directions to their job descriptions. I've got more to say about him, but that's for if and when I make a proper reference image of him.

Initially, instead of drawing up a proper Tenth Class[tm], I just made a fourth category. For shits and giggles. You may or may not recognise these faces, and if you did, I'm flattered! ... Although I'm kinda spoiling their actual names in the tags anyway. Oops.

Behold! Servando, the Messenger (Mexican, previously a postman, an easygoing but irritable nerd emoji of a man), Reina The Bouncer (Japanese, previously a bouncer at a bar, a reserved but kind-hearted gentlewoman with definitely no ties to the Japanese mafia), and Aidan the Odd-Job (Irish, previously a handyman, a friendly if a bit gullible gentle giant).

They're all functionally civilians that were way too good at their jobs, and drank just enough lead-poisoned water to be more functional than the average Teufort resident, but still deranged enough to sign up for the Gravel Wars. They all just want to help end this once and for all, because the commotion was making their previously comfy-cozy domestic three-way married life a bit challenging.

[the-land-of-eternal-winter-novel]

Chapter 43 — The United Family

After having gathered the others in one place, letting them organise how they pleased, Akim went searching for Ingrid. He headed in the direction of the capital of the empire, retracing back his steps, imaging that, if she looked for Anatoliy, she'd go somewhere near that region. Ingrid, in her own right, was very careful whom she approached in her search, lest she give her or her family's location away to the enemies. Eventually, she met Akim, not knowing who he was, and asked him about Anatoliy.

"Are you Ingrid?"

"Yes, how do you know my name?"

"Anatoliy himself told me. I was searching for you, let's go meet him."

"Wait! Who are you and how do you know him?"

"My name is Akim. I'm his cousin, Grigoriy's son."

"I've read the news... I'm sorry for your loss..."

"Thanks... Now let's go. All the others are there already. There is a newly formed resistance, and we organised many different shelters. I'll bring you to the one where the rest of the family is."

They travelled there, not without difficulty, but they finally reached the hospital. Ingrid was shown the room where Anatoliy was, and she entered quietly, seeing as he was asleep. It was just before dawn. She felt immense relief as she got to see him breathing, after she had imagined him dead for so long. She carressed his cheek tenderly, and he smiled a little bit, turning around lazily and whispering to himself as if dreaming about something. He opened his eyes slightly and stretched, saying, with a satisfied look on his face:

"Tonight I had a very pleasant dream..."

Only after he woke up completely did he realise that Ingrid was actually sitting beside him, so he jolted upright.

"My dear!!! I haven't seen you in so long!" he said as he took her in his arms and held her tightly.

"I'm so glad you're alright! I thought you were dead all of this time. Oh, I missed you so much!"

They kissed several times and remained embraced for a while, until Kęstas approached them.

"Sorry if I woke you up." said Anatoliy.

"It's alright. I'm glad you got to meet your wife."

"Are you the one Elena eloped with?" asked Ingrid.

"Yes, and we're married now."

"Good! I'd like to see Elena as well soon enough."

The three spent a while trying to catch up.

"What happened to your arm?!"

"The revolutionary leader tried to assassinate me, but Anatoliy stopped him in time, and took ne to the hospital. The wound still got infected, but at least I'm alive..."

"And you, Tolya?"

"I got stabbed."

"And you survived!?"

"...as you can see..."

"I mean, how?"

"It's more miracle than anything. But one explanation the doctor gave me is that, in colder weather, wounds bleed slower. I'm not sure why that is, but it sure felt like my blood was freezing from the cold I felt that day..."

"Please stop getting into danger, you're scaring me right near to death!"

"I'll try my best not to go in harm's way... but I can't sit and not help the others during times such as these."

She felt proud of his heroic deed, and his continued selfless attitude, happy that she could see a change for the better in him. She remembered Prosya, and resolved to tell the others about her so that they could also pray for her. Until then, she brought Oleg, much to Anatoliy's joy. The child looked confused for a moment, seeing his father's face as if different from before.

"Olezhka, my dear boy!" Anatoliy reached his arms towards him.

As soon as he heard that familiar voice, Oleg no longer felt suspicious, instead recognising his father and jumping with joy that he got to meet him. Anatoliy hugged him, and spun around, tossed him in the air, catching him, and many other such games. He sat back on the bed, the boy still holding onto him, and he ruffled Oleg's curly hair in endearment.

"You've grown up a lot!"

"Olezhka, tell daddy your age!" said Ingrid.

Oleg raised one, then another finger, and shoved his hand forward, almost hitting his dad in the eye.

"I'm two years old!" he said, very proud of himself.

"Such a big boy! Soon you'll be as big as Voldya, and Petya!"

"But will I get tall like you?"

"Eventually."

"Then why is uncle Radek short?"

"He isn't. And it's a bit rude to say that."

Oleg didn't understand why, but it didn't bother him more than a moment. He inspected his father's face again, trying to figure out what seemed different.

"Your hair is very messy."

Anatoliy was taken aback by the child's remarks, but he laughed, finding them endearing.

"I cut it short myself."

"Usually, it was like this."

He tried to take his own hair back as if in a ponytail, but it was too short and thin. He continued playing with his own hair, then said:

"I look just like mommy."

Ingrid kissed his cheeks, and so did Anatoliy, and the boy was gleaming with joy. He moved his legs back and forth, also flailing his hands as if trying to clap, and Ingrid asked him:

"What are you doing?"

"I'm very, very, very happy I'm with you and daddy!"

Anatoliy was pleasantly surprised to see that he was able to talk already, and he felt his heart warm seeing him so excited. Ingrid looked at him and saw a bit of her childhood self in him, now glad that he was in such a family that didn't stifle his joy by treating him as naughty just for being childish and energetic. Kęstas was present to the whole scene, and thought about Anatoliy in a different light, seeing how he acted around his family.

Elsewhere, Žydras kept visiting Gintarė, and they spent much time together. They talked in detail about the experiences they had had in the meantime, and the struggles they had gone through. One time, Gintarė tried to follow him around the hospital, and even help if she could, but she was unable to walk or even stand, which she learned the hard way by plummeting straight onto the floor. Žydras helped her back into bed, but she became worried, even panicked, and started crying.

"What if I can never walk again?"

"Don't think like that yet, maybe it's not that bad... can you feel your legs?"

"Yes..."

"Can you move them?"

She tried to raise her knees, and managed to, but very slightly, and with some pain.

"The good news is that you aren't paralysed."

"But I still fell to the floor when trying to stand!"

"I'm sure a doctor could explain this better to you. Until then, please don't panic."

"I got into the accident because some of those red scarved revolutionaries attacked me! I hit a tree and the sled fell over me. I don't even remember how I got out of there. Some of the wounds still hurt... If I ever heal at all, it'll take forever, and I'll be useless. I came here to help you all..."

Žydras comforted her, giving her a kiss on the head, then tried to help solve her worries.

"Even if you're stuck in the hospital, there are many ways you could help. And you won't be alone, I'll stay here as well! You don't necessarily have to fight Mantas physically to defeat him. Armies don't only have fighters, they also have medics, spies, commanders, etc."

"If you put it that way... I think we could help if we managed to convince as many people as possible to join us. They believe Mantas protects their interests, and if we could prove the opposite, those people would leave him. There is certainly a lot to be uncovered about him. If only we had access to some archives..."

"See? That's more like it! I'll talk to the others, and I'll announce you of any new information."

Kęstas spent some more time with Anatoliy, trying to get along with him better.

"I'm glad that you met your family."

"You can only imagine how happy I am! I hadn't seen them in months!"

"...you know..." he said after a pause. "I was a bit surprised to see you like that... I got used to imagining you as a hateful person, but now I see how much you love your family."

"I wouldn't exactly deny having been a hateful person... I believed I was standing for justice, but I was more vengeful than just. I do love my family more than anything, though. That's why I was driven to revenge when my dad died. Obviously, he always taught me to forgive, so my deeds were contrary even to the one I was doing justice for, supposedly."

"I can relate to this feeling of having disappointed my dad... I wish I had been more mature and responsible. The last time we spoke, he was upset with me for having tried to join the revolution. And he and mom also seemed to have had some sort of argument that never got solved... I miss him so much..."

Anatoliy could see the sadness in his eyes, and he wished he could apologise a hundred times over, if necessary.

"Do you also miss your father?" asked Kęstas.

"Of course I do. He was the best father a child could ask for, and, given his rough circumstances, he raised us very well. I'm disappointed some people don't consider him as good of a ruler, though. He was very wise. I still remember what he told me on the day he died. He warned me not to dwell on the past, and encouraged me to spend time with my own family. I managed to do the opposite: my revenge brought unimaginable harm to everyone, my family included."

After a moment of silence, the two tried to switch to a more pleasant subject of conversation. Kęstas thought again about Anatoliy's interaction with Oleg, and said:

"How is it like to be a father? Do you have any sort of advice?"

"Where can I begin...? Oleg's birth was one of the happiest moments in my whole life. Taking care of a baby is not easy, though. I remember being so scared he might get hurt or sick, and I would often sit by the crib and count his breaths."

"You're exaggerating. If the baby felt fine all day, why would you worry like that?"

"I don't know... I always get worried like that, about things people say are no matter of concern."

"...what else did you do when Oleg was little?"

"I would often be the one putting him back to bed after he woke in the middle of the night, because, chances are, I was already awake. I fall asleep with difficulty and I wake up to the slightest disturbance."

"You do have bags under your eyes."

"Yeah, but I'm getting better. Without as much guilt to burden me, I sleep better. If only I also worried less... What was I talking about? Yes. Do expect to be woken up several times during the night by the baby."

Kęstas thought how he could certainly handle these challenges, but the realisation suddenly dawned on him:

"How can I even hold my child with only one arm? And there are many other things which would require I use both hands, in every aspect of life, actually! What am I going to do now? I'll be useless."

"No, don't say that! There are many things you can learn to do with only one arm. Actually, I'll go bring Oleg here."

He took Oleg inside the room, and tried to pick him up with only one arm. He managed to hold him like so without problems, but he found that picking him up in the first place proved difficult.

"What are you doing? Why did you bring me here, daddy?"

"I was trying to show your uncle how to pick up a child with one hand."

"Uncle?"

"Aunt Elena's husband."

"Oh, yeah! Because she is going to have a baby, right?"

"Exactly."

"Daddy, can I have a baby brother, please?"

Anatoliy was taken aback by his question.

"Well, how about you ask mommy the same thing?"

"I did. She told me to ask you."

Kęstas was giggling inaudibly.

"Maybe one day you'll have a baby brother. But right now you'll have a baby cousin. Go play with your older cousins now!"

Oleg ran to the other room. Anatoliy kept trying to show Kęstas he could do many activities with only one arm, even tying his hand back to enforce the exercise.

"I could help you. And if I don't know how, we could learn together!"

"Well, for starters, I'd have to relearn how to write."

"Good thing I'm left handed! I'll gladly teach you!"

The two spent many days together, trying to learn and relearn how to do certain tasks, and Kęstas felt considerably less mortified by the loss of a limb.

In the meantime, as he was watching all of the other men spend time with their wives and children, Akim remembered his own family again, and felt the need to reconcile for good. He wrote several letters to Margarita, some in which he explained his daily struggles, some in which he apologised in detail, and promised he would never again lie to them. He didn't, however, urge them to come there, as he knew it would be too dangerous. For the moment, just knowing that they forgave him was more than enough.