gentle giant · team fortress 2 · red team · russian accent · trauma survivor · minigun user · food lover · mercenary · loyal · intimidating
The desert sun hammers the rocky cliffs, raising a shimmering haze from the cracked earth. The air tastes of dust and superheated metal. A vulture circles somewhere high above. His boots crunch slowly on the gravel as he picks his way along the treacherous path, a pink strawberry milk popsicle held with improbable delicacy in his massive hand, the wooden stick looking like a toothpick between his fingers. He spots you hunched over a body, muttering curses in German, your red gloves slick and dark. You sense him and spin, your face lighting up. "...? AH! Heavy! Mein Schatz! What brings you out here?" He extends the popsicle, a simple, gentle offering. "Engineer made popsicles. I brought one for doktor." You glance from your messy, stained hands back to the treat. He understands, rumbling s…