Post by The Mechanized Menace on Apr 1, 2013 19:17:54 GMT -5
February 28th, 23 CLE, Rumble’s Workshop
It had been seven days since Teemo visited Rumble’s workshop during his time off duty. Of those seven days, Teemo had spent three of them with Rumble. A lot of events occurred between the two yordles during those three days, some of those events ranging from extremely nonsensical to absolutely amazing. Rumble had become way closer to Teemo than he would’ve liked, which caused him to rethink a lot of things, specifically his, well… preferences.
Rumble was currently plopped onto his bed, backside down, and wearing a gas mask for some reason. He needed to think. How had he become so close to Teemo in the first place? Was it because Teemo saved his life at one point during his visit? Sure, Rumble was certainly very grateful for that, but the mechanic definitely thought it didn’t deserve love. Did Rumble’s fever alter his thinking at one point? Rumble rubbed his head. He had a bad case of hypothermia on one day, and then bad case of fever on the next. It was certainly possible that the mechanic simply wasn’t thinking clearly during Teemo’s visit due to his illness.
Rumble continued to think as he breathed heavily through his gas mask. There was also the issue of his own preferences. Rumble knew that he liked females, but did he also like males? The mechanic thought back to his past. Nearly every male yordle he encountered either bullied him or flat out ignored him. There wasn’t anything about other males that Rumble particularly liked.
But what about Teemo? Rumble knew that the scout was a different case from other males, and the scout was his best friend, to boot. Rumble, breathing rather slowly but heavily through the gas mask, thought about whether he was actually attracted to the scout or not. What about Teemo’s physical appearances? Rumble didn’t take too much time thinking about that. Teemo was fat, his voice pitch was far too high, and his fur was the wrong color. Tan, ew. Blue is always the superior color, no question about it.
Then Rumble thought about Teemo’s habits for a while. Teemo had always been intentionally close to him, stroking his fur and whatnot, and the scout had done it so many times that Rumble didn’t mind it anymore, but right now it was happening far too often. Rumble had also gotten used to Teemo’s numerous breakdowns, but he had to calm down the scout every time. Rumble thought some more, and the more he thought, the more he realized how annoying it was becoming for him to keep calming Teemo down from his emotional breakdowns. Every intimate action the mechanic did towards the scout was an act of friendship, but it was happening far too often, and what’s more, it was wasting Rumble’s time. Rumble growled through his gas mask. There were two things he really hated in this world: Heimerdinger and wasting time.
And in the end, Teemo was nothing but a waste of time.
Rumble beat himself up mentally for being so easily willed into Teemo’s love trap. His temper rose, but then he thought back to his past about another yordle: Tristana. In retrospect, wasn’t she a waste of time, too? Kind of, yes. Rumble knew that chasing after her hindered his work substantially, and he had to admit, purposely forgetting about Tristana definitely improved his own life considerably. Though, at least he actually liked her for good reasons! Tristana was definitely attractive; she was admirably strong, her hair was nice and short, and her skin color was the right color, to boot. (Then again, most females had blue skin.)
Maybe Rumble would visit Tristana one day in the Megling quarters, just to have a nice chit-chat with her. That wasn’t important now, though. What Rumble needed to do was send Teemo a letter. He picked up a pen and began writing on a sheet of paper.
Rumble paused. Dear? Teemo was most certainly not “dear” to him! Rumble hastily scribbled out the word and continued to write.
Rumble paused his writing and wrinkled his nose in disgust. This letter was definitely being way too sorry. The mechanic reread his letter over and over again, and the more he read it, the more his eye twitched in abhorrence. This wasn’t like him at all! He’s supposed to be a menace, not some sorry-eyed puppy! Using his pen, Rumble scribbled out the letter, but he soon stopped scribbling because it was wasting his ink and he had a red marker. Rumble picked up the red marker and scribbled out the letter with the marker rather sloppily, then proceeded to write a new and much shorter letter under the scribbled-out one.
Rumble reread his letter and smiled, satisfied with the end result. He sealed it up in an envelope and mailed it to the Mothership. Today was Teemo’s last day off-duty, so the scout should receive it in time. Who knows, maybe Teemo would write a reply. Whatever. Rumble didn’t care.
Rumble had to admit to himself, writing that letter felt nice and relieved some stress. Maybe he should write another one to a different yordle. Maybe he should write a hateful one to Heimerdinger. Rumble hated the professor, but the mechanic hadn’t screamed at anything for a while. He had to be honest with himself, Rumble kind of missed arguing and yelling at Heimerdinger. He hadn’t heard anything of the professor recently, and he hadn’t screamed at him for a while.
Maybe Rumble will write a letter to Heimerdinger later. He doubted that the professor would actually read it though. If anything, Heimerdinger would probably just tear the letter apart without giving it a second glance. However, Rumble had to finish that satellite dish before even considering writing another letter. He had work to finish.
Such as clearing his workshop from Teemo’s stinkshroom…
It had been seven days since Teemo visited Rumble’s workshop during his time off duty. Of those seven days, Teemo had spent three of them with Rumble. A lot of events occurred between the two yordles during those three days, some of those events ranging from extremely nonsensical to absolutely amazing. Rumble had become way closer to Teemo than he would’ve liked, which caused him to rethink a lot of things, specifically his, well… preferences.
Rumble was currently plopped onto his bed, backside down, and wearing a gas mask for some reason. He needed to think. How had he become so close to Teemo in the first place? Was it because Teemo saved his life at one point during his visit? Sure, Rumble was certainly very grateful for that, but the mechanic definitely thought it didn’t deserve love. Did Rumble’s fever alter his thinking at one point? Rumble rubbed his head. He had a bad case of hypothermia on one day, and then bad case of fever on the next. It was certainly possible that the mechanic simply wasn’t thinking clearly during Teemo’s visit due to his illness.
Rumble continued to think as he breathed heavily through his gas mask. There was also the issue of his own preferences. Rumble knew that he liked females, but did he also like males? The mechanic thought back to his past. Nearly every male yordle he encountered either bullied him or flat out ignored him. There wasn’t anything about other males that Rumble particularly liked.
But what about Teemo? Rumble knew that the scout was a different case from other males, and the scout was his best friend, to boot. Rumble, breathing rather slowly but heavily through the gas mask, thought about whether he was actually attracted to the scout or not. What about Teemo’s physical appearances? Rumble didn’t take too much time thinking about that. Teemo was fat, his voice pitch was far too high, and his fur was the wrong color. Tan, ew. Blue is always the superior color, no question about it.
Then Rumble thought about Teemo’s habits for a while. Teemo had always been intentionally close to him, stroking his fur and whatnot, and the scout had done it so many times that Rumble didn’t mind it anymore, but right now it was happening far too often. Rumble had also gotten used to Teemo’s numerous breakdowns, but he had to calm down the scout every time. Rumble thought some more, and the more he thought, the more he realized how annoying it was becoming for him to keep calming Teemo down from his emotional breakdowns. Every intimate action the mechanic did towards the scout was an act of friendship, but it was happening far too often, and what’s more, it was wasting Rumble’s time. Rumble growled through his gas mask. There were two things he really hated in this world: Heimerdinger and wasting time.
And in the end, Teemo was nothing but a waste of time.
Rumble beat himself up mentally for being so easily willed into Teemo’s love trap. His temper rose, but then he thought back to his past about another yordle: Tristana. In retrospect, wasn’t she a waste of time, too? Kind of, yes. Rumble knew that chasing after her hindered his work substantially, and he had to admit, purposely forgetting about Tristana definitely improved his own life considerably. Though, at least he actually liked her for good reasons! Tristana was definitely attractive; she was admirably strong, her hair was nice and short, and her skin color was the right color, to boot. (Then again, most females had blue skin.)
Maybe Rumble would visit Tristana one day in the Megling quarters, just to have a nice chit-chat with her. That wasn’t important now, though. What Rumble needed to do was send Teemo a letter. He picked up a pen and began writing on a sheet of paper.
Dear Teemo,
Rumble paused. Dear? Teemo was most certainly not “dear” to him! Rumble hastily scribbled out the word and continued to write.
DearTeemo,
I regret bringing these news to you, because we’ve been a lot through the three days we’ve spent together. I’ll admit, I had fun spending time with you. We’ve gotten particularly close, even closer than I would have ever imagined, and I’ve actually had to rethink my… well, you know. Anyways, it’s been fun being with you, best friend, and I know you’d really love for a relationship between us two to take off, but I can’t agree to that.
Face it, it’s not going to work out. Every intimate action I ever possibly did for you was because I felt sorry for you, not because I actually loved you. I was trying to preserve our friendship, not start off a relationship. I’m sorry, but being close to you is just wasting my time in the end. I know you don’t think the same, and I know you admitted your love to me, but I can’t do the same. It’s not who I am, and it’s never who I’ll be.
Yes, you saved my life once. I’m grateful for that, but that won’t mean I’ll instantly love you for it. Besides, I saved your life too, didn’t I? I suppose it all cancels out then, heh.
I know I told you that I might be… well, to put it blatantly, bi, and not straight. Truth be told, I’ve never recalled liking another male, ever. Sure, they all bullied me and whatnot, but you’re a different case, being my best friend and all. Even then, I’ll be honest. I don’t find anything about you attractive. I’ve been this close to you because I’ve been trying to make you feel better about yourself. I’ll tell you this, though: Every time you’ve had one of those emotional breakdowns, I’ve been forced to waste my time trying to calm you down. I don’t like wasting time.
I’ll close off this letter now, but I’ll repeat this again: I’m not going into a relationship with you. I’m sorry, and I know you’d love to be with me, but
Rumble paused his writing and wrinkled his nose in disgust. This letter was definitely being way too sorry. The mechanic reread his letter over and over again, and the more he read it, the more his eye twitched in abhorrence. This wasn’t like him at all! He’s supposed to be a menace, not some sorry-eyed puppy! Using his pen, Rumble scribbled out the letter, but he soon stopped scribbling because it was wasting his ink and he had a red marker. Rumble picked up the red marker and scribbled out the letter with the marker rather sloppily, then proceeded to write a new and much shorter letter under the scribbled-out one.
Teemo, stop trying to be so close to me. I’m getting tired of trying to calm down your emotional breakdowns. It’s not going to work out and it never will, shroombutt.[/i]
Insincerely,
Rumble, the Mechanized Menace
P.S. You left your scarf in my workshop when you left. It makes a nice addition to my string collection. Dismantled, that is.
P.P.S. You also dropped a mushroom in my workshop. It exploded in my face yesterday and I had to be rushed to the ER for five hours. Jerk.
P.P.P.S. Thanks to your shroom, my workshop now smells worse than a skunk and a goblin that copulated then showered themselves in sulfur dioxide. I’m now wearing a gas mask, which makes me look like a deranged pyromaniac.
Final P.S. Did I mention how I had to be rushed to the ER for five hours?
Final P.P.S. Also, I hope you step on one of your mushrooms someday. They stink. Badly.
Rumble reread his letter and smiled, satisfied with the end result. He sealed it up in an envelope and mailed it to the Mothership. Today was Teemo’s last day off-duty, so the scout should receive it in time. Who knows, maybe Teemo would write a reply. Whatever. Rumble didn’t care.
Rumble had to admit to himself, writing that letter felt nice and relieved some stress. Maybe he should write another one to a different yordle. Maybe he should write a hateful one to Heimerdinger. Rumble hated the professor, but the mechanic hadn’t screamed at anything for a while. He had to be honest with himself, Rumble kind of missed arguing and yelling at Heimerdinger. He hadn’t heard anything of the professor recently, and he hadn’t screamed at him for a while.
Maybe Rumble will write a letter to Heimerdinger later. He doubted that the professor would actually read it though. If anything, Heimerdinger would probably just tear the letter apart without giving it a second glance. However, Rumble had to finish that satellite dish before even considering writing another letter. He had work to finish.
Such as clearing his workshop from Teemo’s stinkshroom…
