Your Life in my Hands

medired:

hurting-you:

medired:

“Really? How peculiar. I vould have assumed zhat people zought you vere actually dead und you vere being nice enough t’say zhat you vere alive. So they vould not vorry.” she shrugs, unused to the strange English phrases that some people seemed to use.

“As would I have thought. But after being brought back enough times, the declarative statement of living tends to be overused for its original purpose.” Folds his arms and rolls back one shoulder.

She hums, nodding. “I suppose zhat vould make sense. We ‘ave respawn, so is unlikely v’one vould assume anozher permanently dead, ja?” she states, eyeing the BLU cautiously. Was she allowed to talk to this man? “Annelise,” she puts her hand out to shake, “und it vill be ein pleasure seeing your dead body on zhe ground.”

“Indeed. A shame really. Now I have to adapt to new metaphors. Bothersome…” He looked off to the side, not showing any real dislike for the idea. Nor any other emotion at all except an eased, calm feeling. He looks back to her when he hears the introductory statement, eying her hand carefully. Not really his habit of touching other people but it was expected in greeting rituals. The unmasked Spy offers his hand, clasping her’s lightly to shake.

“Alexandru,” he responded with a tip of his head head. “And believe me, if that ever happens, the pleasure will be all mine.” And finally he smiled after that little statement.

medired:

hurting-you:

medired replied to your post: .

[/That’s good. Wouldn’t want you to be dead, would we? -well maybe RED team would, but…-/]

“It was more of a figurative statement that many of the others have adopted to show activity. I just wished to convey that I was still active.”

“Really? How peculiar. I vould have assumed zhat people zought you vere actually dead und you vere being nice enough t’say zhat you vere alive. So they vould not vorry.” she shrugs, unused to the strange English phrases that some people seemed to use.

“As would I have thought. But after being brought back enough times, the declarative statement of living tends to be overused for its original purpose.” Folds his arms and rolls back one shoulder.

[/That’s good. Wouldn’t want you to be dead, would we? -well maybe RED team would, but…-/]

“It was more of a figurative statement that many of the others have adopted to show activity. I just wished to convey that I was still active.”

yourhealthyheart:

Whilst stuck in RED base for the time being since BLU was still undergoing repairs, Alexandru’s first interest was to survey thisteam’s medbay and laboratory—if they had one. Natural to presume that the opposite team would mirror their counterpart, the BLU walked down the hallway and took a gander in through double doors. At least he had found the medbay easily enough. Now who would be in at this time of day…?

Glancing around, he pushes two fingers against the edge of the door and let himself in, curiosity and boredom egging him further into enemy territory.

It was still early enough for Reginald to be finishing off the last of his mug of tea, merrily working with his back to the door. The radio was turned up rather loudly blaring some kind of Italian opera music with a waltzing rhythm. From the doorway, the back of the medic would be visible, hunched over a metal surgical table with what seemed to be a corpse. He wasn’t wearing his coat, just a vest over his shirt, sleeves rolled up to right above his elbows. With smooth long strokes in time to the music, he sawed through the corpse’s wrist, severing the hand, pausing every so often to take a sip of tea. 

He continued his work, cutting the body into very precise segments, hands, feet, the legs severed right below the knee. He tapped his foot as the song on the radio came to a driving climax, humming lightly, completely oblivious to the outside world. 

Over the raucous music-‘Could one call it such?’-the soft steps of his shoes were hardly audible as he came inside, though his steps slowed as he surveyed the room, the walls, and most of all, the figure near one side of the room. The Spy lifted his arms to cross over his stomach to bury the chill of his fingers into the crooks of his elbows as he watched from a safe distance; rigorous slicing motions of the other’s arm could only suggest a few things the man could be doing. A few steps closer and he could see that this man wasn’t alone, a body on the table.

A devilish smile curled at the corners of his lips as he heard the man humming loudly to the music, sawing away at the prone corpse. Perhaps a causality of the respawn going down for several hours. Or one of his fellow BLUs. Either way, the man didn’t seem to even notice Alexandru’s presence, which if this were battle, would be an unfortunate mistake. Any average man would be thinking of how to get the man’s attention without being viciously mauled like the corpse the Medic worked upon. Any average Spy would be thinking of how not to suffer the same fate and taunt the Doctor. Ah, but Alex wasn’t like them at all. He merely wondered if sneaking up behind the man would cause a fatal enough wound for him to at least enjoy it before being hurled into respawn, or should he merely dodge and return the blow with one of his own.

Maybe introductions was an option as well. No point in killing the man if he didn’t know who his attacker was. Alexandru made the mental note to speak with a member of HR after this to find out his role to play in provoking enemies. But for now, the Spy almost waltzed with the music, heading towards one of the opposite gurney beds and hopping up for a seat at the end of it. The metal squeaked in protest making a bit of noise, but Alex would wait and see the Doctor finish his autopsy before speaking.

Alexandru never thought he’d be strolling through RED base at his leisure without the worry of being attacked, and yet he was doing just that, taking in the sights as they say. With the power back on now, the opposing team seemed much less hostile to housing their surprise guests. …well, perhaps less hostile to most other BLUs. From what he’s seen, there were still certain classes that were disturbing others. And for good reason.

The Spy took a stance by the window near the front entrance, looking outside. What a mess. At least HR finally decided to lend some sort of hand with helping them get out of this mess.

“How considerate.”

He could barely contain the snort that followed the brief statement as he reached into his pockets for something to occupy his hands. However, his pack of cigarettes had drained empty two days ago—the nicotine wasn’t working like it should have anyway, so Alex saw no rush to find replacements. However, without something to keep his hands busy, he was slowly feeling a sort of nervous tick back in his fingers. A small twitch that could go unnoticed easily. The BLU slipped his hands back into his pockets for now, leaning against the window frame.

Even in enemy territory there was still little to do. Everyone on this side was tainted. Stained. Even if he were to annoy someone, there would be no point by the end of it. Everything seemed to be routine up in the mountains. You could only use the threat of being lost in the snow so many times before it became predictable. And even then, if one were to attack him, what then? His need wasn’t being filled here, and he had yet to hear from his Handler.

“Perhaps I should return to main base of operations,” he murmured to himself, fogging up the glass with the slightest breath. He heard of news that new recruits were being shipped weekly. Surely there would be fresh blood he could savor—definitely more than what he was getting here. Ah, but there was only one thought stopping him. The Doctor. Wilhelm Reiniger. Of course the older man was tainted as well, but he had value.

Speaking of which, he noticed that he hadn’t seen the other. Steely grey eyes drew away from the window as he gave the room a slow look over as if the Doctor would conjure up at the mere thought. The Spy wasn’t worried but it did draw an interest out of him, which was better than thinking of how to turn the sink into an explosive to cure his boredom.