Dont think. FEEL.

Dunno. Only if that prick apologizes first. *crosses arms*

—-

bsaa-grinder:

quint-cetcham-bsaa:

Quint snorted, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, sure thing, Porker. Isn’t it always the fat ones that go first? Or is it going to be like the Lord of The Flies, and I call you Piggy instead?” he retorted. “Turtle skin is too leathery to eat. You can use my shell as a soup bowl, though.”

The boat slowed down considerably, but rocked quite a bit, the waves crashing into the side of it, spilling through the rails and onto the deck. It was time.

He finished with his legs and started on the protective vest, the various buckles clicking as they were inserted, and once done with that, he tightened it until it was snug, wriggling a bit underneath it. He shrugged the air tanks onto his back, having Parker help assist him with with those he couldn’t reach, and grabbed the rest of the gear, dragging it out with him towards the back of the boat.

He had to sit on the ground to put the flippers on, but he didn’t mind, knowing that he was going to get wet anyways, so the floor wasn’t too much of a hassle.

“Parker!” he called out, over the crashing of the waves, “Get that jackass over here an’ tell him to get ready! We’re gonna dive in 5!”

“You idiot, I can hear you, y’know.” Keith plucked at his gloves, easing them up to fit properly over his moderatey large hands. “You don’t have to get Bigfoot to deliver your messages unless you want to avoid annoying anyone with your wiener voice.” If it was going to be this game, he would play along only to some extent. If shorty wanted to get torn apart, so be it. But he planned on returning to Africa with enough skin to tan.  

He wasn’t nervous. He wasn’t panicking internally. No, Keith had always been calm in the worst situations, that’s what he had been known for. He was just…frustrated.

He felt along his back, getting an idea of where the handles of his beloved kukris rested, where to turn to in case of trouble. They were positioned in an unusual way to make room for his rebreather. And though he’d been diving plenty off the Eastern coast of his new home, he’d yet to become accustomed to the way they were attached. His eyes shot down towards the other man, a sneer still sitting upon his face. After finishing his reassurance, he crossed his arms across his chest, standing with his feet apart to keep balanced. Because of how thick the fog was, despite Quint being mere feet in front of him, he still had to squint to make him out clearly.

It ran thrugh his mind again that he should apologize - for what he said, for missing those calls, for being a complete prick, and punching him. But he was stubborn. Besides, Quint should have known that he was busy. He threw the punches first. He had the attitude first. So now it was Quint’s job to apologize first, but Keith doubted it would happen at all. ‘Better to move on. You don’t need him. This will probably be your last time working together.’ However, O’Brian was right. First, last, whatever. This mission was still like any other, and if they weren’t working together, they were screwed. Screwed harder than a $12 dollar hooker. 

Keith turned on his hip, gazing through half-lidded eyes at Parker, who was currently preoccupied. Perfect. As soon as Quint finished up, he grabbed a loose strap and tugged him to his feet, wrinkling his nose and narrowing his eyes. “Look, computer nerd.” His grip failed to relax, his knuckles turning white as he pulled the shorter man closer. “I know you don’t like me, and I sure as hell don’t give a rat’s ass about you, but if we’re going to be working together, you better damn well work. None of your passive aggressive bullshit, and none of this childish stuff. I don’t care how dead you want me right now, I can almost guaruntee you won’t be coming back alive without me. 

“I don’t care how much you don’t want to see my face - because seeing yours is low on my list too, pal - you gotta stay close just in case Nemo gets hungry and you need someone to save your ass.” Keith pushed him back, letting go of the strap that he’d held onto. “Again.”  He rolled his eyes, sighing softly. He wouldn’t go back to threats, just demands.

“C’mon, moron. We have stuff to do.” It took a moment to fix his diving equipment up, checking the tanks for full functionality, strapping on his mask… All in order. “And tighten up those belts, would ya? You’re going to lose all your gear that way.” 

With a thumbs up, he signalled to Parker that he was ready, resting on the back bench. It was going to be ice cold as soon as he hit the water, most likely. Damn, how he missed the heat already. 

“I thought you couldn’t because you blast your shitty music so loud,” he sneered, turning on his heel towards the man, “my bad.” He ignored the comment about his voice, puffing his chest out and clenching his fists, not letting it get to him. Of course it would be a crack about that; he’d attack everything that Quint couldn’t control. What the hell had ever happened to him doing the opposite of that? He felt sick to his stomach, hating this day, wishing it was over. Glancing over at the water, he thought about whether or not it was a good idea to just drown himself now and get it over with, but knew better, since O’ Brian was counting on him. Mostly him.

The gear had rattle against him, some areas harder to reach than others. Usually Keith would help assist (and occasionally give a wedgie), but he didn’t have any this time. Not that he needed him, anyways. He glanced back towards Parker, but noticed he was busy, so he bit his tongue and continued working, ignoring the incoming thuds of his former partner’s footfalls. Although he had calmed quite a bit, he still had remaining embers of their fight, not willing to forgive and forget. He had crossed the line, and someone had to put him back into his place. Who did that type of stuff? He didn’t know where Keith found the authority to do it, but it had pissed him off. He had it coming.

As he looked up from his work towards him, he found him glaring right at him, and he snarled back before returning to his work, stirring the fuel to his flames, burning at the pit of his stomach. It was a miracle they had gotten away with little injuries, but he could have inflicted more than that on him, if Parker hadn’t waddled his fat ass into the area and held him back. He didn’t feel sorry for cracking his nose. Served him right, too. He just wished he could have maybe done it to O’ Brian for partnering them up in the first place. Too bad the plan backfired on him, since it could put the whole mission on jeopardy, but he knew the mission came before all else. He’d deal with his asshole and do it.

Before he knew it, he felt a gloved hand grip onto his chest strap, having no time to check it as he yelped a “Woah!”, his feet barely touched the ground, nose to nose with Keith. Eyes wide, he gripped Keith’s arm as he had before, though not as tightly. His breath smelled heavily of cigarrete, and he grimanced at the smell, irritating his nose, but he ignored it and glared, opening his mouth to speak. “You wouldn’t be able to even tell where the hell you’re going without me, dipshit.” he growled, glowering at him. “I’ve always been workin’, Keith. Maybe not to your ‘standards’, oh high-and-mighty-one, but my work’s important, an’ I don’t slack off like you seem to think I do.”

The push had nearly sent him stumbling over the various boxes that cluttered the floor, but he managed to catch himself on the wall, hitting rather hard. “Again.” he scoffed, brushing himself off. “I needed saving ‘cuz I was dying. But I’m sure you’d prefer me dead.” he muttered, mostly to himself.

“No shit, Sherlock. Why’da think we’re on a boat in the middle of the sea, to go fishing?” he retorted, before putting the helmet on his head and twisting it to the side, locking securely in place. He made sure everything was in order, and shook his head at his comment. “Wouldn’ta been loose if you hadn’t been tugging on it.”

Sitting as far away as he could, he scootched on the side of the boat, his back facing the water, and double checked for all his gear, making sure the specialized equipment was all attacked to him. Flashlight in hand, he made the same gesture, watching as Parker nodde and waved.

Bracing himself, he slowly leaned back, watching the sky flip upside down as he plunged headfirst into the water.

.

bsaa-grinder:

quint-cetcham-bsaa:

bsaa-grinder:

broseph-the-giraffe:

Look at Quint’s footprints though.

[[ Height differences awwyeaaah. ]]

((Ssshh he’s not THAT much shorter.))

[[ Look at him. hcdkufhd He’s at least almost a head shorter. Plus the trailer showed it too. ]]

((I know I was the one who said that lksjgdklsd oh gosh, still, he’s the stockier one so sdfgdfg))

bsaa-grinder:

[[ AWWWWHHH. ]]

bsaa-grinder:

broseph-the-giraffe:

Look at Quint’s footprints though.

[[ Height differences awwyeaaah. ]]

((Ssshh he’s not THAT much shorter.))

bontakunkeion:

Finished Resident Evil Revelations, It’s weird seeing as i’m a big big fan of the original games that Jill and Chris weren’t my favorite characters to play. Keith and Quint made the game for me (beside Quint’s weiner voice)

(via bsaa-grinder)

bsaa-grinder:

captainkiran:

best bros 4 life

[[ Remember this though. ]]