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[img]https://wiki.teamfortress.com/w/images/thumb/8/8e/Icon_heavy.jpg/150px-Icon_heavy.jpg?t=20160319164550[/img][h1][color=f7941d]The Heavy[/color][/h1][/center]
[center][b][color=ed1c24]Level[/color][/b]: 2
[b][color=f7941d]Day/Time[/color][/b]: Day 3 - Morning
[b][color=ed1c24]Location[/color][/b]: Boo's Castle
[b][color=f7941d]Tag[/color][/b]: [@Majoras End][@Tenma Tendo][@Lugubrious]
[color=ed1c24][b]Experience:[/b] //////////[/color]////////// (10/20) 
[b][color=f7941d]Word count:[/color][/b] 734 [/center] 

With the first jump made sucessfully, without the loss of limbs or life, Heavy felt more and more certain that he was in fact NOT going to die from falling to his horrible death in an endless pit! It shouldn't normally have been possible for him to do such things, except without the assistance of Engineer's trusted teleporter. Perhaps in time his Texan-comrade would teach Heavy how to construct such machines? Or a simple bridge, which would take less time. Maybe. Maybe. But for now there was one person that Heavy thanked like no-other; Slayer, the bourgousie gentleman he had shown earlier doubts about. Perhaps he was worthy of a Russian bear-hug afterwards?

The team made their way across the pit slowly but surely, much to Heavy's relief that they were once again back on solid ground. The ghosts had been of no concern to him, simply staring them down and shouting [color=f7941d]"BOOOH!"[/color] at those that dared enact the fury of the Russian Bear! Comrade Slayer took care of those brave enough, but they seemed to be of little danger. It was odd, that this strange group of characters made such a good team. As odd and strange a team as one consisting of an Australian assassin with a pee-complex, a German doctor with dubious healing-machines and medical-licenses, an one-eyed Scottish cyclops that drank too much around his explosives...wait no, Heavy began to see that their little team of Comrades was just fine!

All was not fine however, as the other ghosts made their appearance. They were similar, but different, like an old saying Heavy had heard before. He didn't remember it, but it was probably very smart. These ghosts were purple instead of the normal white, and this surely meant that they were bigger and meaner that the white ghosts, because he had never heard of purple ghosts. The ghost that spoke didn't frighten him, especially not when he was surrounded by his very trustworthy comrades. And the fact that they were eager to get down and dirty as they said, Heavy welcomed. He hadn't fought since that small brawl on the train, and was eager to get some good killing back on the menu! 

What did concern him was the wall of purple flames that spew forth towards them shortly afterwards. Normally flames were red, orange and yellow, even Heavy knew that. They taught that in the Soviet schools, basic colourization. But purple was not such a colour, which probably was bad. Very bad. Heavy raised his fists up in front of himself in reflex, hoping to not get too badly burned, which was always a painful experience. But the pain never came, as Slayer flawlessy countered the purple flames, before putting up a boxing-stance. If Slayer was ready to fight these ghosts bare-handed, well who was Heavy to be a lesser man? 

Heavy also took up a boxing-stance, swinging his meaty fists back and forth as one would see professional boxers do. He was ready to strike at any tiny-itty-bitty baby ghosts who dared get close to him, but he couldn't help but see what their young comrade also did; the sound of tearing flesh was not a pleasent sound to hear, but he saw the beams of darkness shot towards their enemy. Dark beams...of darkness. It sounded like magic, magic which were like ghosts who too were magical...Was magic the way to fight magic? And how? Heavy didn't know any spells!

But what The Heavy Weapons Guy did know, was how to pretend, which certainly could seem like magic! Instead of holding his hands ready for boxing, Heavy lowered his hands down to each side of his hip, getting ready for something else; he waited for a second, taking mental aim on the ghost closest to him. In a quick movement, he appeared to pull an invisible revolver out of an invisible holster, pointing it at the ghost and shouting very loudly at it. [color=f7941d]"Pow! Haha!"[/color] There was no real gun, no real gunshot and no real holster. Heavy was merely mimicking drawing a gun and shooting the ghost, like a true American cowboy would. The thing was, however, that it could still be very deadly. Countless enemies had met their unseen demise at Heavy's make-believe Showdown. Imagination could be a deadly weapon in the right hands. Hopefully that included The Heavy, if the Ghost was affected by his imagination.