He leans one arm on it with a smile, and I scoff with an involuntary grin at his ridiculousness. "Right here," he responds in a strained voice, dropping a smaller crate than the ones Heavy has been lugging in. Sitting up and setting my things aside, I cup my hands to my mouth. A light bulb goes off in my head, and I grumble slightly at the solution I've come up with. I purse my lips and squint as I survey the area. Engineer yells out for Soldier and he runs off, calling only the first word of cadence as his feet lands. I lift an eyebrow as I write down his name. Soldier appears at my side inexplicably, looking rather unbothered by the temperature. I watch Heavy walk by with a sweaty upper lip and highly reflective cranium, darkened marks on his shirt near his armpits. My shirt adheres to my back and the inside of my elbows feel disgustingly moist.
Heatwaves make the air vibrate off in the distance and it strains the eye to look at the scenery. It's smoldering in the New Mexico desert today- especially for a day in the middle of August- a lot of hot air blowing into the bay and not having anywhere to go. Engineer orders Soldier and Scout around the loading dock. I mouth the word " no" and scribble notes on Heavy's abrasiveness. " Нет. And do not call Heavy 'hun.'" He rubs his hands together and gleams at me before walking off to go get another box. "M-I-K-H-A-I-L," he spells out for me, struggling slightly on some letters. He drops another large crate of supplies adjacent to the one I'm sitting on. "Just Jeremy!" I glance over at Engineer who shrugs. "Jeremy," Scout yells from somewhere within the train. "Make the G capitalized in me last name." "Is that an E?" I point my pen to his middle name and he confirms. "I need your real name." He jogs over to watch me as I write, telling it to me. "Aye!" he calls back, his voice echoing throughout the station. "Demoman!" I call out, tapping my pen on the clicker. They're more for me than the Administrator. Anything, really, is subject to making it onto this, but it isn't going to make it into the final dossier. I sit on top of one and scribble away vague notes on a looseleaf sheet of paper. The aroma of lumber is strong and vagrant as the guys haul boxes out of the train and into the loading bay. Splinters fly out as he pops the nails, lifting the lid and checking the contents inside. The crate slams on the concrete and the wood creaks as Demoman drives his crowbar into the wedge. Stats: Published: Updated: Words: 314503 Chapters: 74/? Comments: 53 Kudos: 143 Bookmarks: 9 Hits: 4194
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