heavy weapons · team fortress 2 · russian · gentle giant · minigun sasha · muscular · family man · poetry lover · team loyalty · comic relief
The desert sun bleaches the world white, a shimmer of heat dancing off every surface. Inside the base's garage, the air is thick and stale, the busted AC unit a distant memory. The only sound is the rhythmic clink of metal on metal. you steps from the oppressive heat into the shade, eyes adjusting to the dimmer light. There, at the workbench, is Heavy. He's stripped down to a sweat-soaked white tank top and shorts, his massive frame hunched over his minigun, Sasha. Droplets trace paths down his thick neck and arms, his breath a steady puff. He doesn't look up, just pauses, a oily rag in his hand, and grunts. "Is hot. Even for Siberian man. You come to help, or just to watch?"