Engie/Scout. Warning: A tad of non-canon-ness in terms of Scout's personality at first. But he'll cheer up soon, he's just a bit shy. Based on a prompt from the request thread. Crit greatly appreciated. I know it's a bit short, but I felt writing any more would cause the chapter to drag on. Enjoy. --- The new Scout transferred in at 6 in the morning. He was tired, cranky, and acted like a child. The previous Scout, who had left the base at twenty-two hundred hours last night, had not been any less annoying, but for some reason the team felt cheated. Most secretly hoped the transfer would be a woman, and all had outwardly hoped for an adult. The new guy disappointed on both levels. The Scout seemed nervous on the battlefield. The first time Dell saw him coming out of Respawn, the kid was shaking... almost on the verge of tears. Maybe the team shouldn't be too disapponted; he sure acted like a woman. Engineer had been watching the Scout when the sentry he was working on turned to shoot. The sudden movement snagged his Gunslinger at a bad angle; it seemed that a whole section was totally crushed. He was able to use his wrench to repair the somewhat damaged sentry, but his Gunslinger needed special attention in his workshop. The Engineer got to work on it as soon as the battle was over. The damage wasn't as bad as he had thought, but he was still late to dinner. He slipped his glove over it and walked to the mess hall. Dell was surprised to see the new Scout sitting all by his lonesome. Then again, considering how bad the boy had stunk up the battlefield, it was understandable the other guys were ignoring him. Puerile, but understandable. Once he had loaded his tray up, Engie sat himself at Scout's table. He didn't sit right across from him, nor right next to him; a comfortable 80° arc was formed by points E and S on circle T. "The name's Dell." He extended his right hand to the Scout. The boy, who had been playing with his green beans, was startled at first. He forced a smile and shook the Engineer's hand. "You can call me Scout. Just Scout," he said. Unsure of what to say next, he returned to messing with his food. It looked like he hadn't eaten a bite. Poor kid was shy as a crocus. "Noticed yer dog tags." Scout's hand snaked up to grasp the little metal plates of his own accord. "You look a bit young to've served." "I'm 20." Dell, even though he thought 20 was still young, took the cue to shut up. They sat in silence for a while, letting the noise from their teammates fill the air. Scout cleared his throat. "So... What's the deal with this place, anyway?" Scout looked at Engineer, eyes flickered to his food and back before he decided to keep them on the Texan. The boy's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "What do you mean?" Dell asked. Scout shrugged. "Why we're fightin'? Why us?" Engie gave a little smile. "All I know," he said, taking a sip of beer, "is that the pay is good." "Well, you're a fuckin' engineer. Your pay would be good anywhere." There was a hint of resentment in Scout's voice. Dell chuckled. "You'd think so." This time the quiet was much louder. Most everyone had filtered out of the mess hall. The rustling of Medic's textbook pages, Pyro's muffled laughter, the tap of Sniper's ceramic coffee mug on wood only seemed to amplify the silence. Scout, who had only eaten roughly 1.7% of his food, got up and began to clear his place. "See you on the field." "It's a Sunday, Scout. I'll see you at breakfast." After Dell had finished his meal and cleaned up, he retired to his room. Surrounded by his blueprints and babies, he felt he could truly relax. Talking with the Scout had been... stressful. But he hoped it would pay off in the end. Dell saw himself in the Scout. He couldn't help but pity the shy little man. By the time he had gone through his nightly rituals and gotten in bed even the crickets had tucked themselves in for the night.
What is this? A shy little scout? I am intrigued. The only concrit I have is that a lot of times your sentences seem very... Not really simple, but I felt as if I was reading a children's book. I think it's because you started a lot of sentences off with "The." I like the little mathematic and geometric tidbits you toss in. They make the nerd in me happy as pi.
>>2 I'll try to watch out with sentences starting in "the". The reason they may seem simple is because I am conciously stripping adjectives and adverbs. I'm reading 3 books on writing right now, haha. Thanks! I feel like that's how Engie would think. I'm not great at math so that's about as complex as it's gonna get. Thanks for reading!
Wow I just caught this: Scout's hand snaked up to grasp the little metal plates of his own accord. Should be their own accord.
I rather like how this is written. Easy to read- rolls off the tongue. Like a smooth beverage, y'know? "The road to Hell is paved with adverbs" - Stephen King
>>4 Should be "its own accord."
>>6 The sad thing is I read my story about 30 times and always read that sentences as "Scout's hands blah blah of their own accord". Good thing I'm getting new glasses Friday. >>5 Thanks. King is who I was thinking of as I deleted adverbs.
Stoked.
Hey, okay, a couple things. First off, I realized the title of this thread could be interpreted as offensive. Rest assured that was not my intention. I'm usually much better at naming things but I just couldn't think of anything to call this story... If it offends you, just imagine a pirate Demoman. Second of all, I hope this chapter isn't moving too fast. I kind of pigeonholed myself into this... Criticism of the constructive variety is always appreciated. Hopefully there will be no glaring errors like there were in the first post. I read it over and over again, but I only have on set of eyes and it's possible I missed something. Enjoy! -- Shit! Did I sleep in? Dell stared at his alarm clock for a moment before fully waking. He had slept in, but it was of no consequence; they were off duty today. The mess hall was nearly empty. Most of the guys were at church, although Dell supposed they'd be returning soon. He would relish the peace and quiet while they were out. Medic and Pyro were sitting at a round table together, although it didn't appear they were talking. The doctor was flipping through a newspaper as he ate. Pyro... Well, Engie had never actually seen the guy eat. He came into the kitchen to cook, watched everyone else eat, then cleaned up after. Pyro was strange, but then Dell wasn't one to judge. Scout was also present, sitting near Pyro. He was hunched in front of a heap of food that, considering the rate he was eating and the approximate time of his arrival in the mess hall, must have been almost double that mass when he sat down. Dell filled his own plate with scrambled eggs and bacon that had gone cold. He also spotted some delicious looking biscuits. Dell gave a thanks the Pyro. "Mmf ddnnn thh nmmm, tth Schhht!" "You're too humble, Mumbles." "Sckht!" Pyro pointed to the Scout. "Oh!" Dell turned to the boy, who had been watching the little encounter and smiling. "You can cook, boy?" "No shit," he said with a grin. Nothing like familiar foods in an unfamiliar place to cheer a man up. Dell sat down between the Medic and Scout, slightly closer to the latter. Last night's 80 degrees turned into a friendly 79. Dell took a bite of biscuit. Cold, flaky and fucking irresistible. Engie could definitely get used to this guy. That afternoon, Dell was busy tinkering in his workshop. During the work week, he usually bothered his sentries and dispensers, as well as his teammates's weapons. With their permission, usually. But on Sundays, Dell labored over his own personal project. Being raised as he was, amongst wires and whirligigs, the Engineer had a romantic notion of how he wanted to raise his own children. Although he couldn't imagine having a life partner, he felt as if he already knew his kids. On his desk sat the blueprints for an automaton. A delicate steel skeleton lay on top of it, illuminated by a craning metal lamp. Dell's hair was a prarie field, golden, blazing. Sweat formed at his temple and his reading glasses slipped down his nose. After the installation of this next piece, the automaton's head would be able to swivel on its own. The engineer turned the screwdriver, tightening the -- "Fuck." A knock on the door ruined his concentration. Dell ripped off his glasses but set them down gently on his desk. He rubbed his face, muscles everywhere tensing in an attempt to control himself. "Dell?" It was Scout's voice. What the hell did he want? "Yeah?" He ran a hand through his stubbly hair. The door creaked open, Scout's peered over the edge. "Hey, yo. I didn't mean to bother you or nothin, but I just uh wanted to say somethin..." He inched inside, leaving the door open. Harsh white light from the hallway mingled with the yellow glow of Dell's desklamp. The Engineer had calmed himself a bit. His project sat neglected on his desk, calling out to him, making his insides itch. He kept his eyes trained on Scout. "Well, go on and say it then." "First of all, I'm sorry for bein a dick to you last night." Scout cupped his hands behind his head, scuffing his shoe on the floor. "I was havin a bad day." "It's alright, Scout. Your cookin' this morning sure made up for it." He gave the boy a smile. "Ha ha, I'm glad you liked it. Total coincidence that was, like, ya favorite breakfast, huh?" He totally didn't ask Medic or Pyro what the Engineer liked in order to make amends, nope. He wasn't fuckin' kiss ass. "Yeah... Listen, if you need somethin' to do, I'm sure Solly would love to train with you." Dell indulged himself with a glance at his abandoned machine. "No, no, I mean there was somethin else I had to ask ya." Scout shifted his weight, shoved his hands in his pockets. "Uh, can I sit down?" He nodded at Dell's bed. Engineer bit the inside of his mouth and nodded. He could have cried when the the seat of Scout's microbe ridden pants made contact with his crisp bedding. Scout's bouncing leg made the bed whine almost as much as Dell wanted to. "Well, I figured, since you can build shit and stuff and," Scout eyed the Texan's gunslinger arm, "you seem to be good at this sort of, whatever, I figured, I thought you could help me with my leg." He scratched under his hat, suddenly interested in the wall. Engineer let the gears crank in his head. Dell furrowed his brow. "If there's somethin' wrong with your leg, ask the Medic for help." "I... well," Scout sighed. He kicked off his left shoe and began to remove his sock. "What in-" Metal and leather, not flesh, hid under the boy's clothes. Scout's dogtags jingled as he sat upright. "I used to be the fastest motherfucker in Boston." Dell flexed his gunslinger's fingers. He could only imagine what it would be like to lose a limb... unintentionally. "Between you and me," Scout leaned forward, "I still am." He laughed at his own joke and Dell couldn't help but smirk. "What do you want me to do, Scout?" Scout rolled his eyes. "I need a new leg, man! I mean look at this shit," he unfastened the limb, allowing Dell to see the irritated flesh beneath it. "I can't run on this." Scout's voice was hushed. Dell closed his eyes and kneaded the bridge of his nose. "I don't know. I haven't tried to design a leg before." The Texan slumped in his chair. "I'll have to take some measurements... There's a lot more to take into consideration, physics wise. I need to think about it." Scout slumped too. He had sort of imagined Dell being able to whip him something up on the spot. "You probably ought to see Medic about your real leg in the mean time. It probably shouldn't be swollen like that." "I guess." Scout reattached his prosthetic limb, sock, and shoe. He stood up and gave Dell a two finger salute. "Thanks, though, man. I'll see you." Scout smiled and left, leaving the door ajar. Dell didn't bother to shut it. He turned around im his chair, back to his lovely figure. Perhaps once he got the head to move he would try to make it walk.
Haha! Oh, wow. I forgot to put in a password. And there is a glaring error, because of course there is. Scout's peered over the edge. Scout's what? Let your imagination run wild. Or just mentally remove the "'s", like I meant to do.
Huh. Amputee scout. An interesting turn, I like it.
Ironically, though, the thing that did offend me about the title was that I imagined a pirate Demoman. I saw “Pegleg,†and thought, “Bootlegger,†and shit my pants expecting Demoporn. I was so disappointed. But I am no longer disappointed. It’s a lovely story. I’m not an amputee fetishist by any stretch of the imagination, so I was quite wary at first, but this story has got its coils around me, and out of trust for you as an author, I am eagerly anticipating the acquisition of a new kink. One tiny problem—you keep switching between “Engineer,†and “Dell,†and in some places it ends up sounding like he’s got split personalities because of it. Probably the best way to avoid that is to pick a name and stick with it.
ha ha! I didn't even notice the mistake it was so minsqule. I absolutely love this so far I cannot explain in words very well. like the fact that it is different from the norm of which is around this site. I like it and i believe it has great potential. and the writing style fits the story well.. do I see perhaps some mvm in this?
>>11 Thank you. >>12 Hahaha. Definitely wasn't at my most clever while I was naming this. I switch between them to give it variety without having to say 'the older man' 'the blah blah', I dunno, I feel it's convient. But I will try to stick with Dell. >>13 Thank you! Not really, considering I haven't actually played it or read much about it. Yeah, this is definitely pre-MvM.
I don't think there's a problem switching between Dell and Engineer, since he is both. I didn't even notices the switches til it was pointed out. Maybe if you use 'the engineer' instead of Engineer? I dunno. But yeah this is so great. Big thumbs up from over here.
Amputee Scout. Yes. This is the fic I've been waiting for.
The next chapter will be slow to update since I have to read 300 pages of a pilot's handbook in 2 weeks. But hopefully not too slow. >>15 Yeah, engineer is less like a name, more a title. Thank you! >>16 Thanks! To be honest, I've never written amputee stuff before, so... bear with me haha.
Fabulous, fabulous way to show and not tell; his attitude about his military service, why he might be a little tightlipped and jumpy... At least there's not a jungle map in TF2, else he might have a terrible onslaught of memories or even PTSD. I always wondered about that: why Scout was in Teufort instead of in some trench in 'Nam, since he'd be right about that age. Hell, it was '68 that my father got a letter from the draft board and packed up for South America. I figured it was because he was a felon or something, and that the tags were his daddy's, from WWII. My headcanon says that BLU scout lost his shit with the rest of Boston at the (for the Sox) devastating conclusion of the Impossible Dream in '67. Stole a car and drove it into the harbor. Sort of a "Holes" scenario, ending up with Builder's League United: it was that or prison, what with grand theft auto, destruction of public property, reckless driving, illegal dumping, and unlawful misconduct forming a hell of a rap sheet for one night. But yeah, him being a wounded vet makes a lotta sense. Purple Heart and all that. From one senseless war into another, but hey, at least with THIS one, it's a -dry- heat. Commendations. I look forward to the continuation.
>>18 Gratias tibi ago. My headcanon here was really just to enable his amputated leg, honestly. Also I cited his age as 20 before learning he was 23 in canon (according to the Track Terrorizer). Also, this may not see an update for a while. The device I had been writing it on had to undergo a hard reset and I was unable to save my shit beforehand. I had the rough draft of the next chapter down. Hope to update before Oktober, though.
>>19 Bummer, maaaaan. But I'm down for waiting as long as I need to. So take your time.
Life got in the way. Update coming soon-