|1||Afterwards, cont'd.||180||9 March 2014 18:46|
|2||Mercenary morning||1||6 March 2014 19:02|
|3||The TF2's have dinner||20||24 February 2014 03:42|
|4||Request Thread Go!||123||13 February 2014 04:10|
|5||Melusine||1||23 January 2014 03:38|
|6||Dotchan's Massive Text Tump Thread||117||24 December 2013 05:26|
|7||TF2chan Secret Santa Exchange 2013||1||7 December 2013 05:33|
|8||The Lessons v2.1 - HOLY SHIT NEW CHAPTERS||8||19 November 2013 21:25|
|9||Enlightening the World||4||10 November 2013 06:56|
|10||GHOST STORIES FROM TEUFORT aka prepare to deploy piss puddles||3||26 October 2013 03:11|
|11||As Time Goes By||6||23 October 2013 23:03|
|12||The Nucleus Incident - IT RISES AGAIN||10||22 October 2013 04:32|
|13||Harvest||145||11 October 2013 14:45|
|14||In Blackest Night - A Mystery||2||5 October 2013 15:47|
|15||A Physician's Tale||15||24 September 2013 05:40|
|New Thread | All Threads|
Hey everybody! The last thread for Afterwards is now no longer bumping, so it's time for a new thread.
Don't forget to read Reunion here: http://dotchan.com/?p=1876
And Afterwards parts 1-12 here: http://dotchan.com/?p=2096
Sorry about the amount of time that goes between updates, hopefully the wait will be shorter next time.
“… And that’s about everything I know about it, really.” Engineer gave a sigh. “I was hopin’ this would be about where you’d come in…”
“I see,” said Ilse. She took a sip of her coffee, her expression hard to read; straight-faced as usual. “Zis is all… very interesting.”
Please never stop updating this story... I'm not the kind of person who reads fanfics all day, hell, I hardly even read, but this story is just so fucking good. Every other fic that I've tried to read is just boring. This one actually has characters that have true character. This truly feels like a follow up to the end of TF2.
Looking back at this story, I see what a long trip it's been.
Oh and BTW, your follow up story to "With Apologies to Harlan Ellison" made me cry my eyes out. I hope you're enjoying my tears.
Nice name there. I dig it.
I admit I haven't been writing much for this story lately. Updates feel like they're coming out slower and slower. I've been lacking the motivation lately just because there's other things I want to work on. I don't want to abandon this story though, I just worry that I have bitten off more than I can chew.
Also, I didn't write up the follow up to WAtHE, that would be Dotchan. She wrote it because she was too bummed out by the ending and wanted some closure. I think our writing styles are pretty different.
But thanks for the encouragement, bro.
Take all the time you need for this story, every update is worth it.
Also, thanks for the clarification on who wrote the follow up to WAtHE, I've been confused about that for a while. The thing is, Dotchan's story had even less closure than your original story did, both were still great though.
Also, if you don't mind me asking, I never really understood the Dotchan site. Are you friends with her? Or did you just decide to host your fics on her site?
Hello, here is a set of oneshots featuring what looks like a morning before a mission for each of the mercenaries. I start with The Sniper.
The sun's rays passed through the window and came tickling his eyelids. He always parked his van facing east, just as the rising sun could wake him without fault at the earliest hours of the day. Mundy passed mechanically hand over his eyes, to protect them from light. « Gah... »
Awakenings were always difficult when you slept badly and you were woken up earlier and earlier, blame it that fucking sun and fucking summer approaching. He scratched his cheek he hesitated to classify it between rough and prickly, yawned longly, snapped a few shots his doughy tongue and fumbled for a jar in the close proximity to his cramped couchette. Urge to piss and too lazy to go down and out. And then it will make him an extra weapon. The mere idea of swinging the jar on the suit of that fucking degenerate Frenchie gave him an even more pleasant relief. It was once down from his bunk that the Aussie could extend his long limbs and his six feet three inches. There's nothing to else to say, the van was a place where he could be cushy, travel wherever he wanted, cram 57 Asian cheap whores together into it, but for some real space, you can come back an another day. The smallness of his bed forced him to sleep legs bent and whenever he realized that it looked like a spycrab, it annoyed him so much that he chucked sleeping bag out and he was going to sleep on the roof.
Mundy mechanically sought something to peck in the reduced space where he put his canned food but his hand met only a beer. A Foster's, not one of those junks that other countries brew and worth even less than his piss, no, a real Australian beer. But this will not fill his stomach. He had to go out and hunt something. It turned out then be reduced to seek his clothes between his bed and sofa, sniff them in order to check the odor and inhaled the hints of gun powder, wet tissue, soil and urine, and the musky scent of his own sweat. Critters would smell him miles away, he had to place himself in the opposite direction to the wind, because he did not have the time or
Dearest TF2chanlings, whilst working on a t-shirt design, I found this gem of a "wtf-fic" on the Steam forums.
"The TF2's have dinner" by Bobby Road.
They go to TGIF.
Scout orders a pepsi and a chicken nugget.
Soldier has a beer and steak.
Pyro just drink.
Demoman has pasta and alcohol drink.
Heavy orders two things cause he is fat.
Engineer a briskit.
Medic is eat fried steak.
Sniper has fried steak too, its good. And coffee cause he's tired.
Spy has oyster and French drink.
>>17 It might just be "Heavy eats a lot because he is the fat guy and his entire character is that he is fat and also dumb because English is his second language and he can't possibly be intelligent".
Which is a characterization that always got on my nerves.
Necrobump but I ain't even mad. How the fuck did I miss this the first time.
Still trying to wrap my head around the final sentence which I am positive contains the most profound nugget of wisdom when decoded; one that will surely lead us all to enlightenment and serenity.
Last one autosaged, so it's time for a new one.
This idea just won't leave my head. Feel free to denounce it as stupid, but I keep thinking of the whole team getting teleported to feudal Japan, and somehow Demoman ends up being worshiped as a physical incarnation of Amaterasu. Meanwhile, Japan has no idea what the fuck to make of the rest of the team, but assumes that they're with Demoterasu and so they're venerated on general principle...
I'd also love to see Scout or Soldier struggle with ceremonial robes (I think some of them had up to twelve layers).
Guess who's got more requests? (And hopes they didn't kill the thread)
-In the BtVS episode "Hush," demons referred to as "the Gentlemen" steal voices so no one can scream as they gather the hearts they need. What if this happened in 2Fort? (For an Afanfic variant, two of the team take advantage of the silence to have sex.)
-Another BtVS episode crossover: the infamous episode "Halloween."
-A fic based off the Scrubs episode "My Musical." Bonus points if there's a romantic duet.
Got some of my trademark awkward-horror to share, featuring Demo, Sniper, and a monster!Spy that may or may not be fem!Spy. I got lazy towards the end, but I just wanted to get a few scenes out of my head, you'll know what I'm talking about. Wink.
The Sniper risked much, insisting on sleeping in his camper nearly every night, far away from the others. More than once, the Demoman tried to impress upon him the dangers that lurked beyond the protection of the base, but the Sniper scoffed at his warnings. He was born in Australia, he had encountered and bested wild creatures specifically evolved to kill a man in a variety of unpleasant ways. Nothing in the relatively tame badlands of New Mexico could possibly pose a threat to an experienced hunter such as himself.
But that was the situation before the war between RED and BLU, back when the Badlands had not yet suffered from chemical leaks or radioactive contamination, of which lead happened to be the least harmful. Up until recently, this stretch of desert had avoided the taint of dark magic, and more importantly, the can-do attitude of some very scientific, very talented intellectuals. Now everything had changed, for the worse. Monstrous beasts have attacked humanity for far pettier reasons, the Demoman knew, and he reserved no doubts that the seething nexus of magic and science centered on the battlefield had already birthed horrors too unimaginable to even contemplate for one second before the brain shut itself down out of self-preservation.
That was why he alone must wage war for his teammate’s souls against the haunts that would prey on them as they slept. For he had seen beyond the veil that separated this existence from the other dimensions, and survived. The Demoman alone knew what must be done.
It took a third of a bottle of Scrumpy to hearten his body and open his mind, which he guzzled while he girded his sword and shield and sprinkled a few drops of his mother’s protection draught over his eye and chestplate. At his waist pouch, he also tucked away salt, herbs, amulets, and a precious silver vial of water blessed by a holy hermit. And if that wer
New board + new thread = copy pasta of old stuff that I was sort of working on.
The now ex-Pyro stared back like a deer in the headlights, her mouth opening and closing several times before any words could come out. "What? Why?"
The Announcer rolled her eyes and exhaled a long stream of smoke. "It's in the rulebook under 'Don't Have Sex With the Enemy'. Look it up."
"I am well aware of the so-called 'extenuating circumstances', because otherwise you would have just been shown the door with no hope of ever regaining meaningful employment anywhere in the world. All the arrangements have already been made." The Announcer gestured, and the suited escorts made their presence known once more. "Your personal affects will be sent to you via parcel post."
The Announcer drummed her fingers on the table while she waited for the room to clear, tuning out the feeble protests. Then she pressed the buzzer to call the next offender into her office.
The first time the Pyro failed to return to base along with the rest of the team, they had assumed that she was chasing down stragglers to give them one last well-deserved toasting before the round ended and went about their business. It wasn't until almost a week later, when a thorough search of the territories they controlled turned up empty that any of them thought to check the video feeds being sent back to Headquarters for evaluation, and that was when they realized that the last mission the Pyro was seen participating in had been a trap laid by the other side to capture her.
Ring of Fired BLU Side: Things to Do Now That You're No Longer Playing Death Tag
It's just a sort of teaser-ish start for now. Hopefully I can get around to writing about everybody before writing momentum runs out or the next comic ships and invalidates all of my BLU-related headcanon.
Sentences are kind of rambly and run-on. I may or may not de-ramblify them later.
The initial camaraderie with the REDs disappeared as soon as it became clear that the situation was not as dire as anyone had feared, and that both sides could handle the worst that Grey threw at them without having to grit their teeth and work with those they'd been trying to kill for what felt like years. Both sides had tried to be somewhat civil about parting ways, but it wasn't quite possible to do so without a fight breaking out. At least nobody died.
After that, things chugged along just fine, with the occasional break in the action to broadcast the day's kill count to wherever the REDs were holing up now--and the REDs, not to be outdone, always did their best to equal, if not exceed, that kill count. Both sides must have destroyed hundreds of those robots, perhaps even cracking quadruple digits, before somebody somewhere thought to change tactics and have the mechanical abominations proclaim their non-murderous intentions before charging headfirst into getting shot, exploded, set on fire, bludgeoned, stabbed, or some combination thereof, and even after that countless more of the things ended up as scrap metal before the stalwart defenders at long last got tired of the easy pickings and let one lone, trembling robot through.
The initial reaction to the announcement that Grey had succeeded in a non-hostile takeover of Mann Co.--and therefore they were all now even more unemployed than they had been before--was, of course, disbelief. Even if the enemy had never displayed any particular cunning, subterfuge, or indeed even thought to the way they had attempted to destroy their human counterparts, it seemed too impossible that the war had not been decided in the trenches but f
Ooop, I've been meaning to leave my thoughts on this for a while but I've just not had the time. Which was frustrating, because for someone who leaves so much critique for others you more than deserve some in return. So here we go!
Firstly, I really like where this is going. Overall, inclusive of your previous work, you've got a great knack for setting up the scene and getting the reader to feel for the characters. It makes your work a delight to read. I especially enjoy when you employ punchy sentences, like in >>111 and >>113 to use more recent examples.
So reading >>115 though getting me excited for where it's headed, feels a lot more... rough in comparison to some of your earlier work. As you noted at the beginning of the post, the sentences are quite long and could very easily be cut into smaller, manageable sizes. The beginning especially suffers from having such a long starting sentence, because your hook gets swallowed by everything else that is going on. You could try something like...
What initial camaraderie existed between the two factions disappeared as swiftly as it had formed. Once clear that the situation was not as dire as anyone had feared, both sides realised they could handle the worst that Grey threw at them on their own. All without having to grit their teeth and work with those they'd been trying to kill for what felt like years. ...
Of course, if going with this kind of introduction, you would want to reword a part of the second paragraph to show the shift in focus to BLU team.
The rest of the fic, as I said before, could do with shortening those long sentences to make it an easier read. But other than that, I haven't got any real complaints. I enjoyed it and want the next section already!
SO WHO REMEMBERS THIS RIDICULOUSLY LONG TF2 FANFIC THAT I STARTED WRITING LITERALLY YEARS AGO AND STILL HAVEN’T FINISHED YET? BECAUSE I FINISHED A NEW CHAPTER.
If you haven’t read the rest of this series, you can find it here: http://tf2chan.net/fanfic/res/657.html
You should probably read the other chapters first, or the stuff happening in this chapter won’t make a whole lot of sense. That thread stopped bumping ages ago because it went over the post limit, so here you go, have a new thread. Comment in this one, not the old one, or I probably won't see it, and that would make me very sad indeed.
Someone paid me to write this, I should mention. I’ve been wanting to do it for a long time but unfortunately I just haven’t felt as though I have time for anything that I’m not getting paid for recently, so if it wasn’t for the wonderful person who paid me real, actual money to finish a new chapter in this fic, it would probably never have happened.
I want to finish the whole thing - there’s at least one more chapter to come - but I don’t know how long it’s going to take for it to happen. I’m sorry for that. Things are getting better now, so I’ll do my best.
Just enjoy what I have managed to write in the meantime, okay? Thanks for being so patient, everyone, and if you want to catch up with me at all you can find me far more easily at drtanner.tumblr.com, or alternatively, at drtanner-sfw.tumblr.com if you prefer your blogging experience not to be full of men's asses and dicks and men kissing other men.
I love you.
I had the other thread bookmarked and I would check every once in a while, never losing hope..
Today I realized I hadn't checked in a few weeks, so I loaded the page and scrolled down. then i cried
Thank you for writing this amazing and inspiring story <3 <3 <3
I am just... so glad to see this updated
And Ill admit this got a few fat tears from me
Im horribly tempted to go reread the rest of the Lessons now, but I dont know if I can handle all that heartbreak in one go
Filled for the promptfest, Soldier/Spy, Soldier was aghast when he found that the Statue of Liberty was French, as it says on the tin, I tried to make it a pairing, but... that was difficult, very difficult.
“What? I thought everyone knew that!”
The Soldier was so stunned by this revelation, he could not articulate much more than sputters for several seconds. “That is a lie,” he finally exclaimed, “and you all know it! I will not tolerate any filthy communist slander of our Lady Liberty! She is as 100% American as rocket-jumping. There is absolutely no possible way, I repeat, no way, she could ever be French!”
The only woman he would unquestioningly give his heart and soul to, the bronze green goddess of his beloved America, actually built in the land of cheese-eating surrender monkeys, designed by one of them. As if the cowardly French knew anything about the value of freedom! The very thought of such sacrilege made sparks scatter from his eyes, steam visibly rising from his flushed skin. But the Spy was laughing so hard, he was actually snorting and then coughing from how hard he was snorting, and the Engineer was slapping him on the back as he tried to recover his breath.
Grinding his teeth, Soldier turned to the Engineer, mutely asking support from his fellow American, but the other mercenary shook his head with a wry grin.
“It’s true, I’m afraid,” he said. “Seen the blueprints myself in the university archives, all French-”
Gahdammit, I've meaning to post my thoughts on this for a few days now but like a chump I kept forgetting. Apologies. Onward with the comment:
I really, really enjoyed this. Your turn of phrase had me smiling the whole way through, or laughing out loud when I couldn't contain myself anymore. Also dat ending.
Only had a couple of nitpicks. The first one was on the fact the mercs were in civilian disguises yet were fully armed. As funny as the mental image is, and as much as I can understand the men would become attached to their weapons, it felt like a bit of an unnecessary detail (or at least wasn't justified believably). Was there a particular reason for them to bring their weapons along?
My only other "hmmm"-inducing moment was at this point in the story:
He straightened up, an act of defense against the Spy’s increasing encroachment into his personal space, which of course only drew the Spy closer.
“Mmm, yes, I would. Shall we then?” the Spy murmured, slipping out of sight with a flick of his watch.
Unless I'm being particularly obtuse, I was led to believe Spy was enamoured by Scout's mother - why the sudden physical teasing towards Soldier? It just seems a little out of the blue having him so flirtatious, as opposed to the snide remarks he had been using until now. I also gathered from the ending he wasn't in total despair after all. Has Spy been attracted to Soldier from before this trip? Was it only their interactions in this scene that changed his mind? A little confusing, is all.
Anyway, I'm probably being pedantic. It was great. I've recommended this to a few people as well. Hope you continue to share your stories with us!
I'm not sure if you actually were waiting for an answer, but just in case anyone else was wondering and didn't read this where I originally posted it, I saw a funny prompt, wrote it real quick, then realized it was placed under the "slash pairing section" and had to crowbar the slash content in. Had I more time, I probably would have developed that with more build-up. The weapons, it was more of a jab at New York stereotypes, idk.
Artists, writers, and SFM aficionados! We've got a Halloween themed community project going on, and would love to have everyone take part!
Signups are open until October 19th, submissions due October 26th, project releases October 31st
Interested? Info and rules here: >>/dis/14088
Just a reminder that sign ups close this Saturday (the 19th)! Final submissions aren't due until Sat 26th
There's still plenty of room left in this thing! Only 11 people have signed up so far (4 of which already submitted), so come get your spook on y'all
Hello everyone (Man, it's been a while since I posted anything here). This is a short one-shot I wrote that's best summarized as fluffy Engineer/Spy. Criticism is completely welcome and encouraged! (Deleted the first posting of this because I'm a dork who forgot to capitalize the in-thread title.)
As Time Goes By (Three Words, a Cell, and a Timepiece.)
The Engineer smiled up at him.
The Spy put the revolver down and looked at him.
“Tell me. You do not smile like that unless it is something very good or very bad.”
Couple of things.
- Sometimes it's not always clear in the scenes where the characters are in relation to each other or the room that they're in. (I also tend to have that problem myself since I write a lot of scenes dialogue first before figuring out how to "set the stage", as it were.)
For example, at the beginning:
The Engineer smiled up at him. [Who? Yes, the narrative makes it clear later that this "him" is the Spy, but since this is the first sentence of your story it behooves you to introduce both of the characters by "name".]
“What?” [I presume Spy is saying this. Might want to make that more clear.]
How close are they? Are they both sitting? Are they directly looking at each other, or engaging and dis-engaging as the conversation goes on? Do they give each other their undivided attention, or are they fiddling with their hands? Etc. The more senses that are involved in the narrative, the more immersion the reader gets into the scene.
- I don't quite buy the dialogue. A lot of the things they say to each other sound more like exposition for the audience. A fully omniscient narrator (which I presume your story has) would be able to examine what both of them are thinking without the need to say things out loud; a narrator limited to one party should make it more clear that we are stuck to the perceptions of said party.
- The premise has promise, but it could use a lot of fleshing out. Do you want to tell the full arc of Spy and Engineer's relationship starting from when they first met to ending up officially together? Or do you want to focus on the moment that Spy, and then Engineer, realize what they mean to each other? Why should I care about them getting together? (I'm open to all pairings, but I tend to assume that both sides are rather hostile to their enemies, so How Did They Get Here?)
Ah, thank you very much, Anon! I'm glad you enjoyed it. Yes, I was a bit worried about that, that Spy wouldn't have as strong as a character as I would have liked. I'll work on strengthening his character when I write other stories involving him. As I said in the author's note above, this was a one-shot, so unless the meaning of the term has changed without my knowledge, this is all there will be.
Oh, thank you so very much, Mawaru! That means a lot, coming from you. I’m glad you enjoyed the bit. Thank you again. And yes, I do like writing the Engineer as a man who would check every possible junction for error. I'm glad you enjoyed that.
Thank you for taking the time to write out crit, Dotchan! I agree, I was a bit lazy on writing scenes. Thank you for calling me on that, because lord knows I’m out of practice with writing. However, I do have to question your point about the dialogue. What about it sounds artificial? I do not doubt the validity of your claim; I would just like some examples and ways to improve on making the dialogue more ‘believable.’
As for your third point, this is true. However, I did state that it was a one-shot at the top, which means that it won’t be continued. Thank you again for your crit!
Since you asked, here's some more detailed feedback on specific lines of dialogue.
“Tell me. You do not smile like that unless it is something very good or very bad.”
- Spy's inconsistent use of contractions (he alternates between "do not" and "don't" several times) can be used as a characterization plot point. How does he talk normally? Does he have an "on job" and "off job" way of talking? Is he the type to put on airs even around his friends? Or is it a sign that he's emotionally withdrawn into himself?
- This is more of a personal opinion thing, but Spy's dialogue in particular doesn't "sound like" my perception of him. At this point in the story I don't know a thing about your particular version of Spy, so I'm assuming the default canon modes of behavior, and I don't see Spy as the type to be straightforward. Asking such a direct question would be tantamount to admitting that he doesn't already know the answer. To me, Spy's the type to want to know everything about everyone else while remaining as secretive about himself as possible. In the context of this story, that would make for some delicious inner conflict.
“Actually, that is not the date I mark. The one I mark is the one where you stopped trying to kill me when I showed up in your workshop or at your home after battle hours.”
- Again, this is mostly opinion, but the "flow" of the dialogue seems off in a way that I don't know how to explain properly: when I read it out loud, the syllables don't play well with each other. The second sentence in particular doesn't seem like it can be spoken in one breath (and there's no apparent way to parse it to have a pause for breath).
- (Addendum: Yes, I do try to read all of my dialogue, if not all of my narrative, out loud. When I do that, I realize that it doesn't sound nearly as good as it did in my own head.)
- This sentence is pretty much here solely for expositioning at the audience. What is Spy thinking when
I bet you thought this was gone for good, didn't you? Well it's back, and I'm re-writing it from the ground up to fix errors in flow, update characterizations, and generally make it more enjoyable to read.
And for the love of sanity, tag your spoilers. I'm sure there are plenty of people who didn't read this the first time around.
“Alert! The control point is being contested!”
“Not today, maggots!” The RED Soldier chuckled, swiftly kicking a chunk of what had been the BLU Heavy off of his control point. His smirk grew wider as he looked over the edge and saw the BLU Medic, his body caught on the criss-crossing pipes, crackling with the energy of an undeployed Ubercharge. That lousy Kraut would be dangling from those pipes like a limp sock until the end of the round. And with just a few BLUs left alive, it wouldn’t be too long before respawn activated, and the full humiliation of death by crit rocket would hit like a… a crit rocket!
But there was little time for gloating on the battlefield. An arrow embedded itself in the point next to Soldier as he ducked instinctively, stowing his rocket launcher on his back and taking out his trusty shotgun. Today he was taking no chances. This was, after all, an Arena battle. And by God, he loved it! Nothing made him feel more alive than knowing that a slightly extended death waited around every corner! Let your guard down for even a second, and it could mean the difference between a victory and the sting of humiliating defeat-!
Soldier cried out in pain, putting his hand to the side of his head, feeling the sting of an open wound and the ragged edge of where his ear had been. Another arrow shuddered, the tip embedded in the metal just above him, covered in fresh blood - his blood! That tree-hugging hippie and his all-natural, free-range, grass-fed bow made him bleed his own blood! Standing up to confront his target, he regretted his decision as soon he saw the glint of the BLU’s arrowhead, pulled back and ready to fire. Stumbling clumsily as remembered who he was up a
Actually, one thought was to have the BLUs as protagonists, and possibly get their powers before the REDs.
Please update soon!
I'll be honest with you, Faust - uploading to TF2chan is really, really annoying, because I'm stuck using BBcode to add my italics, and even then the formatting often screws up. And the site is so dead that uploading my stuff here is a really, really low priority right now. Next to no-one is reading. Nobody is commenting.
If you want immediate updates go here -> http://thenucleusincident.tumblr.com/ But otherwise you'll have to wait until I can be bothered to go through 4000+ words and tag up my stuff. And right now, I can't be.
Here's an anon that's namefagging. Hey there. I started this back in September and have been messing with it for awhile. I'm kind of stuck at the moment, and since the chan was wiped and we're super deprived of fanfic at the moment, I thought it might be a decent time to post a couple chapters and see if it's worth continuing. It's my first fic ever, and I don't normally consider myself a writer, so I'm curious to see if this is up to par or not.
It was originally written for Halloween, but now that that holiday has come and gone I guess I don't know. I would say that it's in the same sort of genre as Eximplode's 'The Nucleus Incident', but I don't want to be presumptuous enough to compare myself to that fic. Okay enough blah blah here's some story.
It started when the Soldier died.
Actually, it could have started when the Sniper came back from a hunt with a mauled forearm, claiming he was attacked by some sort of rabid coyote. Or it could have started when the supply trucks stopped coming in, which had forced Sniper to go hunt up some game in order to feed the team in the first place. It could have even started with their transfer to Harvest in the beginning of October. Something had felt off from the beginning, the Scout had said so often. But the Soldier’s death was the first time the team realized something strange was happening.
It wasn’t the death that was surprising; it had taken some time, but the employees of both RED and BLU were accustomed to their unique existence thanks to the mysterious Respawn Rooms located in all of their bases. Death was, at worst, a painful nuisance. No matter how gruesome their fate, the team members would always reappear in Respawn, good as new, ready to fight again. After awhile battle tactics had adjusted to account for Respawn, and the Soldier especially relied on it during his many screaming kamakazie attacks on the enemy REDs.
So it wasn’t a surprise to anyone that the Soldier had died. The surprise was that he stayed dead. The Scout had stumbled upon the body after ceasefire, when the teams were returning to their b
Oh man, I thought this fic was dead. Overjoyed to see an update.
Interested in seeing where this goes.
aw, man... sad to see that this fic is dead (to my knowledge)was really enjoying it :(
The rain was falling in thick sheets, moistening the dry ground of Twofort for what must have been the first time in months. Engineer shook his head. Today of all days for a thunderstorm. The RED team had just finished a long, hard battle in which they had all perused the respawn room dozens of times, and they were exhausted. Engineer pulled down the heavy metal blast door over the entrance to the base with an effort. He could barely move his aching arms to insert his key into the locking mechanism and engage it. The door let out a soft click as its thick bolts slid into place. He tapped a few buttons on the keypad recessed into the wall, and bars began to lower over all of the windows into the base. Lockdown, complete.
"How's it goin' truckie?" asked a familiar voice from behind him. Engineer nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Gosh darnit, don't sneak up on meh like that, Sniper!"
Sniper chuckled softly. "Sorry, truckie. Couldn't resist," he said, staring out at the turbulent sky. The lanky man frowned. "Never rains like this in the Outback," Sniper said.
"Not in Texas, neither."
The Australian narrowed his eyes at the thick falling rain.
"'Ow strong are those doors?"
"Well, ain't never tried, but it'd take about 30 pounds of TNT to take 'em down. If you ain't got explosives, ferget it."
Engineer eyed the Sniper curiously. He wasn't the type to look so paranoid.
"Why do ya ask? Were you plannin' on goin' for a walk?" said Engineer with a chuckle. Sniper didn't laugh.
"Got a bad feeling tonight. Something just ain't right."
"It's just jitters, Sniper. Thunder and lightnin' puts a man into a paranoid sorta mood."
The marksman shook his head. Before he could reply, the two men heard a long, warbling death cry from the hayloft. Sounded like Demoman. They glanced at each other, then charged up the stairs towards his together.
Hot damn, I'm on the edge of my seat for more!
Pacing and set up is great so far - though I would recommend a few more paragraph breaks to make it easier to read.
Finally catching up on all the to-reads on my list, sorry it's taken so long to get to you. Are you continuing this one? You better be!
A PHYSICIAN'S TALE
This is a labor of love. I am not usually a fanfic writer, but I decided to go with it because I am a fan of TF2 and I've been needing the writing practice. This will be a tale of Medic's psychological development and offer some creative back-story on the RED team. I do hope you enjoy it, and of course, all comments and critiques are welcomed. I look forward to hearing from all of you. Thanks.
This will be updated every two weeks if all goes according to schedule.
He sat alone with his hat turned down and his eyes fixed on the glass of vodka and seltzer. The bar at the terminal was smoky and crowded. Soviet faces glanced at him and made passing comments in languages he didn’t understand. He felt pressured by some unknown history in these people. They knew he was an outsider. His manner was tight. His clothes were impeccable. His bags had already been checked, and the only thing he waited for was for the boarding call.
The Doctor ruminated on Prague in winter. He had never been here before. It was an old and grand city, now repairing itself from the ruins of war – what had sprung up was equally as magnificent as what had been before, he imagined. He had seen photographs his father took of a summer vacation here studying the migratory patterns of the local pigeons. It was the early twenties then. The war had been lost.
This is fantastic. Brilliant personification of the good doctor and a brilliant interpretation of how they all met. Keep it up!