that sure was.... corny.

I was aroused and then I laughed. And now I can't stop laughing.

I am laughing so hard right now. And it early Saturday morning so I'm trying to make it less noisy. This is freaking great and I love it.

I'm so happy that I was ever a part of this beautiful, sexy travesty.

I snickered like mad reading that. Okay, that was well worth it. Especially since Sniper's was all a sexual fantasy. I LOVE that because it most assuredly was one. And I'm so pleased he wanted to eat her out first and was getting off on the idea of pleasuring her.

It was all incredibly cheesy (hence the humor) but also quite realistic IMHO. Realistic in what his desires were and how the fantasy itself was unrealistic when compared with real life but only in the way pornographic fantasies usually are. That in the end he was really just jerking off was... perfect.

Also, Sniper does tend to be the one who gets the girl in most Sue fics, right? So even more kudos if that is true. I can't wait to see what happens with Spy, if he decides to show up at all.

And damn it Iz... now I have to write that Engie "rape" fic I thought up that also fulfills a few of the requests in the requests thread but which is also... well, I'm spoiling it but it's got a reveal. No, I've never mentioned it before but I'm a huge fan of well-done twists involving fantasies and dreams (where the "it's all a dream" still impacts their actual life) and now I've got to write this one. DAMN YOU FOR INSPIRING ME AWAY FROM THE OTHER SIX (I AM UP TO SIX) STORIES I HAVE IN PROGRESS TO WORK ON THAT ONE.

Also, I'm still demanding that you write an Engie plot fic. Please? I HAVE A PLOT BUNNY FOR YOU! (I never stop having plot bunnies.) Ignore it if you want but I have a feeling you'd be so good at it!

Basically, Engie is strong but he's a stocky, pudgy, short man and having to shower around all these other really built and taut-muscled guys is starting to make him feel more sensitive about his body. Give me something sexual regarding that and I will love you forever. Bonus points if it's with a woman; either femme class or his equally pudgy but still lovely wife.

I'll stop being annoying now, I swear. D:

So wait...Was this a dream? They were first at the office, and then suddenly Sniper is in the van with a wet hand.


It is a dream! I bet it was!

I don't believe the entire story was a dream. However, Sniper's chapter was clearly just a fantasy he was having while jerking off. So the previous chapters might have been part of that fantasy also but I don't think so.

>>39 Hmmm. I might just have to write that now. Oddly enough, Engie's not one of my better characters when I RP, but I guess all the practice with one of my partners (you know who you are) has helped. I'll definitely consider writing an Engie fic. Likely won't get to it until this play is done, but still.

>>41 And yeah, Dove is right. Just this one chapter is dream sequence-ish. The rest is all real.

Being honest, the only way this fic would disappoint me is if Transcriptionist actually did enter into a romance/sexual relations with one of the guys. Since this fic IS in the adult section, that seems like the inevitable direction, though you pulled a nice curve ball there with this last installment, getting more into that parody/satire territory you mentioned.

Right now, what your fic is doing is showing the ridiculousness of the idea women are solely there to be won by men, at least that's how I'm taking it. And I like that. I may be a little soured if you do take an actual romance route. If not done right, it could take away a bit of respect I have for Transcriptionist as a female TF2 OC. But you seem very clever, Iz, so I have hopes it would be done well.

Words cannot express how relieved I was when that last chapter got ridiculous enough it HAD to be a fantasy. Although I will say that, imo, the level of mindfuckery there doesn't exactly fit with how slow and understated your other chapters are; it does stand nicely on its own though. I don't really see what place it has in the rest of the story, either, unless there is something critical involving Sniper and you just had to establish him as a smarmy creeper early on?

>>44 In the words of Engineer, Nope. Just itemizing. Showing how each man reacts to her presence.

Speaking of, have some black Scottish cyclops.
Short chapter is short. And I apologize for use of one of the N-words, but this story is very sixties-ish, so I think it falls under fair use.
Enjoy.
-------

Thursday noon

Transcriptionist was just coming out of the bathroom, nearing the end of her lunch break, when she was greeted by a rather unwelcome sight in her office. It seemed that someone had dragged a poor, half-blind Negro in here, and he had fallen asleep against her lunch table. Upon further investigation, it became evident that he was not asleep, but passed out – drunk, if the stench of alcohol wafting around him was any indication.

She stepped forward, and shook his shoulder, gently. “Excuse me, sir? Are you alri-“

“HURRRRRRRRP.” The Demoman belched loudly and seemed to spring back to life. Transcriptionist jumped, and backed away, startled. “OH! There y’are lassie! I been wonderin’ where ya got to!”

“Um…hello.” She greeted, unsure, her hands clasped together in front of her abdomen. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, aye. Y’must certainly can…” He stood, with a strange look on his face, and strode towards her…

It seemed that someone had dragged a poor, half-blind Negro in here. I lol'd, I don't know why. Poor Demo, he never gets enough love does he?

Silly fic, who let you drop all the way to the bottom. Have the big popular threads been shoving you down there?

Well, let's fix that. Have some more Demo.

---

Thursday afternoon

“And he just never loved me! He didn’! I know it!” Demoman sobbed into the young woman’s clothed shoulder, as he had been doing for the past hour.

“Oh, now I’m sure that’s not true.” She soothed, rubbing the poor man’s back.

“It is! It IS!” He wailed. “Even if I hadn’a blown him up, he never woulda loved me! Never! Jus’ like me real da!”

Transcriptionist merely sighed, and whispered soothing little words of comfort into the dark-skinned man’s ear. The bell for the end of lunch rang, and, with a final sniffle, Demo stood up, and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Thank ye for your time, lass.” He smiled at her.

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all, really.” She held out the box of tissues.

Demo took one, and blew his nose rather loudly. “I’m sorreh, it’s just…” Another sniffle, “Ya look so much like-“

“Like Sister Mary Katherine at the orphanage,” She nodded, “Yes, you said.”

He smiled sincerely at her, “If there’s anythin’ I can do fer ya, just ask.”

“I’m glad to help.” She smiled back, and opened the door for him. “Have a good battle!”

“I’ll blow ‘em all t’smithereens for ya, Trannie!” He pumped his fist in the air, and charged off down the hall to join his bloodthirsty brethren. Transcriptionist closed the door, and tried to pretend that the parting remark hadn’t made her entirely uncomfortable, as she got back to work.

I. DIED. Laughing. Please, do go on.

I gotta admit when I read the Sniper chapter I didn't even make it to the last sentence, I was raging.

And then I read the last sentence and felt like a moron. HOHO, YOU SILLY AUTHOR, YOU GOT ME GOOD.

>>49 Mission fucking accomplished. I sincerely hoped there would be somebody going "HOLY CRAP THIS IS AWFUL AND DEMEANING YOU PIECE OF SHI- Wait what."

I really, REALLY did hope someone would do that. I'm glad. And I'm glad so many are finding themselves in respawn over this fic. Ego boost. Feels good, man.

Ha. Her nickname's Trannie.

I still don't care much for this fic, though the one portion I did like and that felt realistic was the short scene with Heavy and Medic. BUT. You write well, and I'm curious to see what else comes of this!

Oh. My. GOD.
I cannot breathe.
I CAN NOT BREATHE.
I am laughing too damn hard to breathe.
THIS IS FANTASTIC!
The flowers and the dream and then Demo- My GOD, this is-
Thank you, Iz, thank you so much.
I am going to be keeping up on this, just to have my crappy day made brilliant by this utter and complete hilarity.

YAY! More love! Hurray!

Enjoy the next one.
----

Thursday evening.

CRRRRHRRRGHRRRR.
CRRRRRRHRRRPFFFFFFFFT.
CRRRRHFF.

Such were the sounds that Transcriptionist’s engine was currently making. Of course, she had stayed late again, finishing up work, so now there were only two vehicles left in the parking lot: hers, and a pickup truck that probably belonged to a night watchman or something, so she wouldn’t be getting any help anytime soon. Unsure of what to do, she sighed, and leaned back in her seat, eyes closed as she tried to think.

She was jolted from her pensive state by a knock at the window. It was the Engineer. He gave her a shy smile, and asked, “Ya need some help?”

Not ten minutes later, her engine was purring, and the hardhatted man was unclipping the metal clamps from her car.

“That should about do it.” He said, as he put the clips away in the back of his pickup. “Ah’d get that battery checked if Ah was you, though. Reckon it’s darn near bit the dust.”

“Thank you, I will.” She nodded, leaning out the window. “Really, thank you.” She emphasized. “Don’t know what I’d do if you hadn’t been here. Is there any way I can repay you for this?”

“Well, uh…” He flushed, and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Ah reckon you can, um…that is, if you wanted to…would…would ya do me th’honor of…havin’ dinner with me, tomorrow night?” He looked away from her almost instantly, fearing rejection.

“I’d love to.” She smiled. He turned back, with an astonished grin, and nodded.

“Alrighty then.” He clasped his hands together. “It’s a date.”
She nodded back, smiling, and backed out of the parking lot, heading home.

Engie leaned against his truck, and stared up at the stars. The tender-hearted Texan felt giddy –almost light on his feet, and the feeling didn’t dissipate until he almost hit a deer on his way home. Then he felt shaken, and apprehensive, but once he was safe and back in his own bed, that giddy feeling returned, and he couldn’t help but dream of what tomorrow night would bring.

Oh man

Part of me is like, seriously upset because these two have only been shown interacting twice, and where is this coming from?

But the other part of me is like, shut up, the implied interactions and motivations are practically tangible, it reads as perfectly and amazingly natural if you don't overthink it

Basically I am not sure if I like this development or not?

I like the last paragraph, how you brought in the deer. I dunno why that struck me as funny

>>54 Well, it's a date, not a wedding, after all. Plus, it's likely the two have said their hellos and goodbyes and such behind the scenes as well, so there's more, smaller interactions we don't see.

>>57

The question then is that if this fic is intented to be ultimately Engineer/Transcriptionist centric, then why didn't we get to see those smaller interactions, instead of watching the entire base go head over heels for her? We haven't really seen things from Transcriptionist's side of things, just her reactions. It's felt one sided up until now, so maybe that's why it may be hard for some to understand where the agreement to the date is coming from.

>>57 Never said it was wholly Engie-Trannie centric. Just happened that there's quite a bit of Engie. It's still the same little mundane day-in-the-life-on-this-base kind of deal.

And Engie's been nothing but kind and polite and chivalrous to her. Who wouldn't go on a date with that?

That last paragraph is so adorable and touching. I can FEEl what you're describing, and it feels so good.

D'aww, Engie. Just d'aww.

This is... certainly shaping up to be something interesting, I have to say. Keeping my eyes peeled for the next update.

The amount of responding you feel the need to do to all of the comments smacks very clearly of the fact that you're not putting all that you intend into the story. People are asking so many questions because the writing is ambiguous in many places. Try to put all of your intent and explanation into the writing itself instead of filling in the blanks when people ask about it later.

for the record a response is not necessary to this
just think about it when you're writing your next update

Awww, poor Demo. Though it's equally funny he was only interested in a shoulder to cry on. (Well, he is banging Medic's wife.) I am extremely grateful it wasn't what the cliffhanger made me think. That was evil, Iz. ;p

I agree with Drillbot and the Anon who said there should've been some lead up to the newest chapter with Engie. I realize it would have been hard to integrate in prior chapters but a brief mention of their previous interactions included in this most recent chapter would have helped solidify why she said yes.

Also, I didn't mean to talk you into writing a whole Engie fic if he's actually the one you feel least capable with. I just enjoyed what you had here and thought it'd be cool to see more. Don't let me push you into anything if he's not exactly your cup of tea. (Oh, and I started the fic I mentioned earlier. It's technically a fulfill for one of your requests btw. But I've been sidetracked by yet another new fic idea and so I have no idea when it'll be done. Doh!)

>>62 Hurray! Glad I could inspire. And I might just write an Engie fic someday. It'll be a while off, because of this play I'm in (if anyone ever asks you to head props, seriously, just shoot yourself in the head. GOOD LORD!), but someday. Someday. As for capabilities, Engie's somewhere in the middle. I write Scout and Spy best, typically, and write Medic and Demo the worst. I blame the accents. Hard to get in their heads.

And the whole fic's already been written, for the record. I don't plan on changing any of it, aside from the various errors I find in proofing. I take the crit to heart, and will apply it later on, to other works, but this fic is what it is, and I'm perfectly content with how it turned out. Speaking of, finished doing that for another chapter. Here you go, enjoy. It's our favourite Frenchman today.
--------------

Friday

Sometime, during the course of the next day, Transcriptionist’s bagged lunch went missing. It wasn’t that she was particularly enamored with her chicken salad sandwich, but it was all she had to eat. Fruitlessly, she searched for it on, underneath, and around the lunch table, and even by her own desk. She was certain she had brought it in with her purse, but it was possible that she had forgotten it in the car. Grabbing her keys, and donning her jacket, she headed for her car outside. She searched there for ten minutes, but it wasn’t there either. Had she left it at home? With a sigh of defeat, she headed back inside, to her office. Seemed she’d just have to go without, today.

When she opened the door to her workspace, Transcriptionist stopped dead in her tracks. Her lunch table had been dragged into the middle of the room, and covered with a white tablecloth. An arrangement of pink and red roses took the place of her dying chrysanthemums in the center. A bottle of wine, and two glasses sat next to that, and two silver serving trays with the covers still on sat on opposite side of the table.

“Bonjour, mademoiselle.” Her shoulders were touched gently, from behind, and she spun away from the gloved hands on instinct. With deft and precision, as she spun, those same hands took her jacket, and hung it up on the wall. “I am sorry. I did not mean to startle you.” The suited man flashed her a grin, and stepped closer. Gently, he took her hand, and kissed it. “Enchanté, mademoiselle. I am zhe Spy.”

Blushing, she nodded, and backed away once her hand was relinquished. “It’s nice to meet you. May I ask, though….what have you done to my office?”

“Oh, pardon, chérie,” He crossed to the table, and pulled out the chair for her. “I did not mean to intrude upon your space. I just felt zhat…wizh zhe way some of zhe ozher less…refined gentlemen ‘ave been treating you, zhat you deserved to be treated like zhe lovely woman zhat you are.”

Tentatively, she sat in the seat he offered, and he pushed it in to the table. Circling around to her right, he lifted the cover off the serving tray with a flourish. “Voilà!” He exclaimed. On the plate sat a foreign piece of meat, smothered in an orange sauce, and on its side was a small helping of some sort of salad. “Duck à l’orange, wizh a Waldorf Salad on zhe side. I ‘ope it pleases you.” He smiled, and uncorked the bottle of wine.

“Oh, no, thank you.” She held up her hand to stop him. “I don’t drink.”

He merely chuckled, and poured her a glass anyway. “I know.” The glass was handed to her. “It is merely sparkling grape juice. I would not try to intoxicate you on zhe job, mademoiselle.” He smiled, and sat in the seat opposite her. “Zhat would be unprofessional.”

She sniffed the glass, uncertain. It didn’t smell like alcohol. She took a sip, and smiled at him. It was nothing more than grape juice. “Thank you for all of this. You didn’t have to go to such trouble just for me.”

“Ah, chérie, for you, I would pluck zhe very stars from zhe ‘eavens, merely because zhey tried to outshine your beauty.” He smiled, and gestured to the plate. “Please, eat.” He folded his hands and watched as she quietly ate the meal he had prepared for her. After the first bite, she nodded, and smiled at him, ensuring that she did enjoy the taste. After that, there was little interaction between them. Tick tick tick went the wall clock, and Spy found himself watching it out of lack of anything else to do.

After she had finished her main course he swept in, took the plate, and replaced it with the one on the other side of the table. With the same flourish, he revealed it. Underneath was a small, beautifully sculpted glass chalice, filled with chocolate mousse. She made a sound of surprise, and again, he gestured for her to dig in. This time she did so without any hesitation, and again, when she had finished, he took the plate away. It seemed to disappear into midair, almost. Where he was hiding them, it was unclear, but they had been there nonetheless, and she thanked him for the lovely meal.

“Oh, ma petite oiseau,” He smiled, quickly setting the room right again, but leaving her the flowers, “It was a privilege to serve such a beautiful woman.” He knelt and kissed her hand again. “Per’aps we could do zhis again, say, tonight?”

“Oh, I’m afraid I’ve already made plans with Mr. Engineer for this evening.” She replied.

“WHAT?!” Spy stood to his feet, outraged, and stormed out into the hall. “LABOURER! VOUS FILS DE PUTE! I TOLD YOU I WAS GOING TO ASK ‘ER!”

“YOU SNOOZE YOU LOSE, PARTNER!” He laughed back.

Quickly recomposing himself, Spy stepped back into the room. “I apologize for my language, mademoiselle, and I ‘ope zhat, once you see what an uncultured swine zhe Engineer is, you will reconsider my offer. Adieu.” He bowed as he exited.

“Thank you for the lovely meal!” She called out after he had closed the door behind himself. Still stunned, she sat there for a moment, before the bell for the end of lunch rang. Immediately, she got back to work.

Damn it, Iz. Now I have this image of Spy as a stage magician. That amuses me to no end for some reason. D:

I was also very amused at his outburst against Engie. Bwahaha. Overkill to charm her and it was potentially wasted. Serves him right though. She never asked for all that. Though, everything but the Waldorf salad makes my mouth water.

I'm amazed you decided to post this bit by bit then, instead of all at once if it's already completed. I suppose I'll leave you be if you'd rather not edit it beyond what you have but eh, definitely keep that in mind for future reference.

As for accents, I think I can do okay if I am focused on one at a time. It's having more than one which throws me a bit. I never have trouble getting into their heads over the accent though. It's always a matter of whether or not I can see them in such a situation and how far I can go away from canon and still find the results believable myself.

Honestly, the thing that gets me more about accents and slang is how much time I want to devote to research. There's a lot of potential word choice decisions but unless I'm eager to go out of my way (sometimes I am) then I stick with what is well-known. Generally I stick with what's well known anyway as there's no point in selecting a word if people can't get the gist of it, IMHO, but for flavor it helps to look up some of it. Even American dialects have various word choices that I rarely think about but they exist.

That's not even going into what sort of foreign view points another country's culture might have on any number of subjects. It's a fascinating read but I've only tentatively decided to explore that in one fic I have planned so far and I haven't really delved into it yet. And that was on a country I'd already read about before at my leisure. I've already spent enough research on other stories, that didn't involve culture shock. Trying to go into researching that for most of the team would seriously derail me for awhile, even if it might be worth it in the end.

But enough tangents. I'm still eager to see how this ends. Will Engie truly get to know the real her? Will Spy win in the end? Will no one succeed?

Amount of posts related to the story isn't directly related to how advanced a story should be, especially because none of us can peer into the future to see exactly where this is going. So, indulge in us with this in mind, because we certainly are in you.

I will admit, you got me with the Sniper bit too. I couldn't get have way through and skipped it, then say the other comments and went back.....You got me good Iz, got me good. BTW, am I the only one hoping she /somehow/ ends up with Demo?

Oh god, I wasn't three paragraphs into this chapter before I was biting my lip to stifle my laughter, and saying out loud, "I'm dying". The ending with Spy and Engineer's exchange certainly killed me dead. Amazing, simply amazing.

We really don't see enough charming Spy on this chan. We see devious Spy, troll Spy, sick sadistic bastard Spy, and flaming gay Spy, but so rarely gentleman Spy. This was a treat to read. Thank you.

>>66

I'd be perfectly happy if she ended up with Demo. It might just be a little more awkward to pull off since he sobbed all over her for an hour when he barely knew her. He treated her more like a therapist than a love interest, in that respect. Not that that's bad necessarily. I thought it was adorable that she looked like someone he trusted back at the orphanage and that's why he decided to confide in her.

Still, it's possible for him to make a comeback in that regard. Everything is up in the air and nothing is certain yet.

Incidentally, captcha was very appropriate.

Captcha: Albany, eeeksha

Not sure what the second word is referencing though. O:

just read this all pretty much in one setting. It's not action-packed or anything, but I'm okay with that, being pretty partial to slice-of-life stories, myself. It's bite-sized. I am completely in for this. Your writing style is engaging and has a nice quiet warmth to it. 'm definitely looking forward to updates.

I don't get why users who don't like it keep reading it? Bah, internet.

polite sage

I'm still somewhat bothered by the image that all of the guys just STAND outside her office all the time, since they always seem to be there when one gets turned down or yells out to someone else. Engie just happened to be in earshot and so did whoever Scout had yelled at earlier in the story. That just seems kind of too convenient for the sake or writing humor, to me. Because if it ISNT for humor, it's fairly creepy.

>>70 I went with the notion that their breakroom for lunch is right down the hallway.

Well fuck. Forgot to sage. Well. Have the final chapter, then.

Enjoy.

----

Friday evening.

“I’ll have the fettuccine, please.” Transcriptionist replied, handing her menu back to the waiter.

“And for you, sir?”

“The Porterhouse, Ah reckon. Grilled potatoes on the side, if y’please.” The Texan smiled, and handed his over as well.

“Very good, sir. Your drinks will arrive shortly. I apologize for your wait.” He turned, and left, to give their order to the chef.

The two looked at each other, smiling awkwardly. “P-pretty busy here, ain’t it?” The Engineer chuckled nervously.

“Well, it is the only restaurant in town.” She shrugged, still with that polite smile stretched across her lips. A piece of her auburn bangs fell into her eyes, and she quickly pulled it back behind her ears. She looked much different with her hair down, and the Engineer had to fight every urge to just sit there, and stare at her like a love-struck teenager.

“Ya look…real nice.” He observed, toying with his fork nervously.

“Thank you.” She replied. “So do you.”

“Thanks.”

Silence. Somewhere in the restaurant, a baby was crying. People chatted. A group of men in the corner laughed loudly at a joke someone had told. And here these two sat, waiting for their meals in complete silence. Painful, awkward, oh-god-someone-please-say-something silence.

“Ya look real nice.” Engie repeated.

“Thank you. You said that already.” She smiled at him.

“Oh…sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Again, the silence. The waiter came with their water, and an order of bread. Engie quickly grabbed a piece, buttered it, and ate it. His nerves always made him hungry. Transcriptionist took a piece herself, and ate it quietly, without butter.

More silence.

“So, uh….it’s been…real cold out lately, ain’t it?” Engie tried.

“Yes. It has.” She nodded. “Winter’s just around the corner.” She chuckled, and the Engineer echoed her.

“Ya like the winter?” He asked.

“Not really.” She shrugged.

“Yeah. Me neither.”

Even more silence.

“So ya…ya got any hobbies?” He started playing with his fork again.

“Not really.”

“Oh…” He paused, defeated.

“I have a cat.” She defended.

“Yeah? What’s the little feller’s name?” He smiled. Now they were getting somewhere.

“Patch.”

“Oh. ‘s a…’s a good name.”

“Well, she has a little beige patch on her forehead. That’s why I named her that.” She continued.

“Oh, it’s a girl cat.” He realized. “Thought it was a boy.”

“Nope. A girl.” She shrugged, smiling.

“A girl… alrighty then.”

One could practically see the silence, wafting around them.

“I don’t…have any pets.”

“Oh.” She nodded.

“Had a…had a dog when Ah was younger, but…none now.” He shrugged.

“Okay.” She nodded again, taking a drink of her water.

Even more of the nerve-wracking silence. It couldn’t even be that comfortable silence where nothing needs to be said – no. It HAD to be that silence where something needs to be said, but no one knows what to say. It just HAD to be.

After twenty minutes, their food was brought to them, and the two ate, of course, in silence. Engie looked up at his date every so often, but after a few minutes, he gave up on any sort of conversation being cultivated, and just focused on his steak. Transcriptionist seemed content to eat her pasta without saying a word, and so that’s how things would be, he guessed. He was more than a little disappointed, though.

Once their meals were finished, he paid the bill. Neither one of them could stomach a dessert – Transcriptionist had even taken half of her meal home in a doggie bag. Tiny little thing ate like a bird. In silence, he drove her home, and walked her to the door.

“Well, um….goodnight.” He stood there, under the porch light, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“Goodnight.” She replied, her hands clasping her purse in front of her.

The crickets chirped from beside the sidewalk.

Unsure of what else to do, the Engineer outstretched his hand. With a tentative smile, Transcriptionist shook it. “See you at work on Monday.”

He nodded, and walked to his car. He stood there for a moment, watching to make sure she’d gotten in okay, and once she was safely inside her house, he drove off.

Locking her door, Transcriptionist bid good evening to her fluffy grey and beige cat, lazing about on the sofa where she’d left her. She took off her coat, and hung it up on the closet, then put her leftovers in the icebox. The chill of the evening bothered her, so she took a nice warm bath, and snuggled up in her flannel robe as she called her mother. Ushering the cat off to the side, she lay down on the couch with a bowl of popcorn, and tuned in to watch a new episode of Gilligan’s Island.

The Engineer, meanwhile, was already in bed, staring up at the ceiling in thought. That woman at the hardware store had been giving him the eye lately. Maybe he’d ask her out…

THE END.

THAT WENT COMPLETELY NOWHERE.

Congratulations on writing the absolute most boring piece of fiction ever read.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dramatic_structure

Read it. Learn it. There are portions of a piece of literature that serve different roles. Your story had none of these except for an introduction, and then the story simply floundered through anecdotes. There's no conflict. There's no drama. There's no anything. Even Seinfeld -- a show about nothing -- had some sort of conflict within every episode.

I'm glad that some people could find the interactions interesting, but this was essentially an extended experiment in writing in different dialects. The classes didn't even act much differently. There are a thing called *tactics* and *obstacles* in drama. Every class had the same obstacle, just used a different tactic. One obstacle does not a conflict make, and one tactic does not a scene make. They all essentially acted the exact same because they had the same goal.

You say you take crit to heart, then immediately claim that you've written it all and that you don't plan on changing anything. Next time you write something, EDIT YOUR WORK instead of letting crit go in one ear and out the other. I'm not bitching because I don't like it; I'm bitching because this is, by definition, bad fiction.

I'd have liked to have seen a little resolution with the other classes, as it is it leaves it kinda open ended. However, I love a good deconstruction as much as the next person and I love how boring Transcriptionist is. Most, if not all, of the other tenth classes I've seen have had really strong and dominant personalities. T is just a grey background Mary Sue and it's pretty hilarious.

>>73 I do have a BA in English, for the record. You don't have to explain terms that get defined in most high school English classes. I am aware of them, and the elements are there, in this story. We have a plot, it's just a small one. Not every story has to keep you on the edge of your seat. There's minor doses of conflict, and if you can't see them, then maybe you're just reading it with the wrong attitude- i.e. the 'I already see something wrong with this story and will never give it any sort of a chance' attitude. You came in here with that, and if you dislike it so much, I don't see why you continued to read it, honestly. If I dislike a book, I won't finish it. If I dislike a movie, I'll stop watching it. Because that's just common sense. Right now, it just looks like you're looking to criticize someone to feel better about yourself. There's very little constructive criticism here.

And I do take the crit to heart. My next work will use what people have said. This first fic is exactly the way I wanted it to be, and to change it at all would be to change it from what it was. I accept the criticism, but this fic was less about what others thought of it, and more about 'Hello chan, this is how I write. Do you approve?' I needed to just jump in with both feet, and I am glad I did, because, despite the fact that, as you said, this is a boring story (which is exactly what I intended. Don't know if you've ever met a transcriptionist, but they're not always the most exciting people. Used it. Ran with it.), there was very little negative feedback. So far, the only people that have expressed direct dislike are you, and one other person. For a first fic, I feel good about that.

Thank you, chan. Thank you for having me. I hope to be back again soon with something else for those of you who enjoyed having me here. Something larger, most likely. Perhaps something southern-fried. Who knows? We'll see. Someday.

The only part of this fic I didn't enjoy was Sniper's fantasy. It was jarring, didn't fit with the rest of the fic, and really didn't need to be there. It felt a bit like you just wanted an excuse to post the smut you RP with your friends. Other then that, I liked this.

>>76 Originally I wasn't even going to RP it, but one of my RP friends happened to sign on when I was writing it, and I thought 'why not?' It worked out quite well- better than I probably would have written on my own, anyway, and it was easier, too. And to be honest, the jarringness I blame on those who told me to make things more obvious in their satire. It was originally quite low-key, dub-con smut, but because of those comments, I changed it, and made it completely over-the-top at the end. I'm unhappy about it, and apparently others are as well.

Figures the one thing I actually edit is the one thing that people end up not liking, eh? Hehe.

>>73

Good job on missing the point there, Drill. Simmer down a little. Your comments have been sitting on the borderline of inciting unnecessary drama, I'd hate to take some disciplinary action...and not in the fun way.

The way I see it, the conflict was more along the lines of what readers expect in fiction of this nature and what actually happens. That in of itself is some food for thought. Sometimes boring isn't a bad thing. Considering the nature of the TF2 world, boring is unexpected and surprisingly refreshing.

>>74

I agree, I found that quite funny.

>>73

Every class had the same obstacle, just used a different tactic. One obstacle does not a conflict make, and one tactic does not a scene make. They all essentially acted the exact same because they had the same goal.

As far as the story goes, if you read it word for word, Demo wasn't trying to date her. He just needed a friend. I mean, seriously, that's not how any man tries to win a woman. Sympathy only goes so far. He may have been sobbing because he was drunk but if he wanted to ask her out, I don't think he'd drop his dignity to do it. I could be wrong. He is at turns depressed and proud about who he is.

For that matter, Heavy, Medic, and Sniper never actively tried to date her or have sex with her, as far as the actual text went. Heavy remarked to Medic about her being pretty but never followed up with it, as far as we were shown. Medic thought to himself that she was too young for him. I suppose their reactions were similar then but they never even tried going past the obstacle. Sniper never even spoke to her as far as we know, he simply fantasized about her because she was pretty. (In retrospect, his was jarringly distinct but I was too amused to notice at the time. What does dub-con mean? I'm curious about the original chapter.)

The closest comparisons that can be made are that the Spy and Engineer joke was the same joke used earlier with Pyro and Scout and that Pyro and Spy both gave her gifts.

That said, I think the strongest flow and the most distinct point was the interaction between the Engineer and the Transcriptionist; how she didn't live up to being what he had assumed about her (or that she wasn't actually interested in him the way he was with her, also completely possible) when he started having a bit of a crush based on her looks. As much as I liked the other chapters, I think it could have been cropped down to nothing but Engineer, Spy, and Transciptionist with essentially the same message. Though the other chapters were there to illustrate the point of how people deal with and subsequently objectify attractive people that they don't know. I'm sure there are plenty of people who've masturbated, at least once, to some hot thing they never even spoke with.

Since Drillbot posted a link to Wikipedia, here is another link on Wikipedia.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slice_of_life

Incidentally, because I love this very much and I want to prove that I'm not trying to rail against constructive criticism, I shall post this. One of my favorite posts that Coelasquid made regarding Mary Sues and writing in general.
http://thepunchlineismachismo.com/archives/589

It does a great job of breaking down conflict on a scale of what is most dramatic. Love falls somewhere in the middle and Esteem is even lighter. I'd say this story falls into the category of Esteem, as it is an exploration of respect (of others and by others) as well as sexual intimacy, regarding men and women. It's about the struggle of connection and finding one between people.

Ultimately, none of them made any real connection with her (okay, maybe Demo but it was a single therapy session that she was dragged into, so it only went so far) and I am very pleased that it didn't matter to her because, as boring as her goddamn life was, she didn't need to have a man to make her life complete. At least, that's the tone I took from it. She called her mother but the story didn't say she was sad or angry or exasperated when she made the call. Admittedly, we don't even know the exact connection between her and her mother but since the story didn't delve into it, I assume she has a generally friendly relationship with her and thus the conversation was fairly mild and probably about her date or just her week in general. Then she enjoyed TV because she wanted to. Not riveting but realistic.

I am equally pleased that Engie, who was looking for more and didn't find it, was considering the woman at the hardware store. He might have been disappointed but he got over it.

Mind you, I could have missed something. I could have missed the whole damn point in fact. This was what I took away from the story. I might have read too much into it but then again, I generally do.

You know what? Ultimately, the reason I liked this and why I think I relate to it is because I'm a woman and I've been hit on by complete strangers at work before. Just a few random guys, some I thought were cute or sweet and I felt bad saying no to. Unfortunately there was also the one guy who I'd forget why I didn't want to talk to him before he'd chat me up and be relatively interesting. Then he'd ask if I was single yet, reminding me why I wanted to avoid him (he must have done it every time he came into the store, just about.) Oh, and there was the one guy that asked me while I was ringing him up and I don't even recall if I'd seen him before. I told "I'm taken" (which is true; it wasn't an excuse) and he said "That doesn't matter." That was the guy that pissed me off.

That probably makes me a horrible person but I don't give a shit. That's what I related to. (Notably none of them were co-workers but still.) Although... either my fangirl side or my WTFBBQ? side's immediate response to reading Soldier's query was sheer shock and then "... Yes?" because of the commanding nature of the question rather than abject horror as I'd probably react with anybody else. Of course, I know full well that in reality anybody I met who acted like Soldier in general would probably be someone I couldn't stand being around. Either they'd terrify me, make me uncomfortable, or they'd anger me beyond words.

I'll stop going off on tangents now, I swear.

I really, really enjoyed this. It was a little jarring when I first started reading (Where's the violence? Why this tenth character, I hate those. Ugh!) but as we went along and I gave it a chance (I always do) I started to fall further and further in love with this story of a completely mediocre, average, boring woman who finds and sees little of romantic interest in any of the TF2ers. She's not even over the top dramatic about it, she takes everything in stride and I love it.

It doesn't look like you're discouraged by any of the more negative "constructive" criticism so I won't tell you to not be. I hope to see more of your writing soon and thank you for writing this.

Captcha: control

Hmmm... Interesting. I could write about that, but I won't.

>>80 Dub-con stands for, I believe, dubiously consensual. It's used for sexual situations where consent is not technically given, and the character has shown a certain amount of reluctance towards the activity. It's like' almost-rape' in the world of writing. 'The rape you didn't know you wanted' kind of deal.

And Dove, thank you. You hit every single little nail on the head, and now you've built me a cute little house of accomplishment. Thank you. I shall have to invite you over for tea sometime.

And thank you to everyone else that commented, too, of course, be you anons or otherwise.

>>82

Oh, I see. Hrmm, dub-con is one of those awkward situations. Not that the chapter you put up didn't have elements of that as well. Of course, that's why it works best as just a fantasy. Many people have fantasies about dub-con (and just straight up rape) but no one wants actual dub-con (or rape) in real life, outside of a potential BDSM type scene. Not that there isn't also a certain amount of indirect consent in real life too. However, I think (though I may be wrong) that is typically between people who feel very at tune with one another and who might have a very good sense of what they're in agreement on, without having to use exact wording every single time in every single instance.

Er, but I prattle a lot. I'm glad you enjoyed it! It makes me feel like my over-analytical nature has a purpose for once.

I would be happy to come over for tea! If you ever want to chit-chat or what have you (though I can't confess to always being interesting) my email is in the email field.

I adored this little story. It was quite realistic given the situations and I think the reason why some readers were disappointed was because realistic fiction isn't always everyone's cup of tea. Readers expect lots of drama and/or elements of humor, but we couldn't see them as clearly as regular Tf2 fics here. Which is fine, since it is a 'slice of life' piece. This story was really different from the other stories we can see around the chan and I profoundly enjoyed reading something original rather than the cliche romance story or rape fic. Thanks for sharing this with us.
Freakin' saved.