freakinblur: (blam!)
[Sometime in the morning, Scout's drone wife will call to him, letting him know a box has arrived in the mail.

Considering the last time he got something in the mail, it went pretty poorly, so he was a bit suspicious. He got his usual speed and agility back, but not without a LOT of grief.

Sitting on the kitchen table is a crate with his name on it. There's some familiar labels adorning it. He blinks at it, and laughs. Is this for real?

He gets a hammer, pulls out the nails and cracks the crate open. Inside, complete with a box of shells, is a bright shiny new sawed-off shotgun. He holds it up, grins, and laughs even more.

Shortly afterwards, Scout can be found zipping down Mitchell Road, jumping as high as he can and then firing at the ground with the gun. It makes him fly even higher into the air, and he lands gracefully on to someone's roof nearby, laughing and cheering as he does. As much as he wants to keep going, he doesn't want to risk it getting taken away, so soon he'll be taking it back inside. But it seemed to work perfectly, and the Force-A-Nature's going in his backpack now, and will be going with him everywhere.]
freakinblur: (headset)
Wake up, sleepy head! You can't spend the whole day in bed.

[Scout's eyes fluttered open. The first thing he did was take in a sharp breath, deeply, in and out. It was the first time in 3 days he could breathe without immense pain. He savored it.

He sat up. There was a different drone wife in the house now. She was opening the curtains to show another beautiful spring day in Mayfield. The drone of Ema had been replaced. He saw a wedding photo of them on the nightstand next to him. It had changed, too. He turned it over.

He sat there for a moment, slowly rubbing his forehead, trying to think straight. He noticed the burn on his arm was gone as well.]


What's wrong, honey? You look like you've had a bad dream.

....yeah. Guess I did.

Well it's over now, so relax. I'll go start on breakfast.

[Off she traipsed to the kitchen. Scout still sat in the empty bedroom.

He's died before. He's died countless times in his service for BLU, resurrected and shipped back out into the battle field without even a thought. All in a day's work. He's even died in Mayfield, back on his feet good as new the next day.

Why did THIS time bother him?]


----

[Call to all non-drones.]

... has anyone else come back? The people in Westport? Shit...

The Milkman. He was there. He was there, and he was fine, that bastard.
freakinblur: (glance)
[Since he got into town and found out he had a job, Scout's been abusing it terribly. Due to his complete lack of respect for the drones as a whole, he's be walking out of there with merchandise and money on almost a daily basis, confident that they'll never notice. It started with a few bucks here and there, but as he needed more stuff for his plans, it got worse and worse. Japan needed money to build the tech he needed for his spying mission. He had a party to host. Sniper had needed a bow and arrows, and now he needs a ton of stuff for his little camping excursion. How did Snipes convince him into going to that stupid trip? Guess someone had to go along and make sure the kids ACTUALLY had fun, right?

So it's just another day at the office, and Scout's sneaking out the back of the store with a pile of tents to put in the trunk of the car. He hadn't noticed, however, that someone was there.]

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Scout [BLU]

February 2025

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