Daydreaming about tf2 constantly after reading some fiction so here's some I wrote hoping I can think about it less. Suggestions and criticisms/critiques are welcome, there's more to come. Who should sit up front with the sniper? ================================================================ "We. are. /not/! going A-WOL! Do you understand me?" Soldier cut an impressive figure, baring down on his derelict team like a drill sergeant. But the REDs were having nothing of it, gaily traipsing about the Engineer's camper being hitched to the back of Sniper's van. Engineer had let the Soldier know about his little plan last for convenience, and took him into a casual aside as the others packed the camper with junk. "Listen hoss, we need some R&R and by god that's what we're going to do." the engineer raised a finger to the Soldier's face as the rocketeer prepared another deep breath for a rant with an upward lurch of his shoulders, "I've got it all under control. Spy got me access to the console and I faked our deaths in the registry. When that bell rings tomorrow the machines'll fire up like always and send a fresh wave of guys that look just like us out there to the slaughter." Soldier waved his arms frantically, still dressed for combat as the others picked out casual wear. "We should be in the thick of that slaughter, hardhat!" Hardhat was wearing his white ten gallon for a change and left his glove on his work bench. "What's the matter pardner, don't trust us to fight the war?" the engineer smiled as he saw the familiar workings taking place in Soldier's head. He has to stop and think. So that's them that'll be out there fighting...But they'll also be going on vacation... "As long as--" "--Blus are getting theirs", the engineer finished the soldier's sentence, "yeah I'm sure we'll give em what's for. Now get some stuff together and plant your keister in that camper before I belt you one." the soldier grumbled and slunk off to his room to put some shotgun shells and underwear into a rucksack. "Yeah, and I'll take this! And this! Aw yeah gotta take that!" the scout was wired for sound and making trip after trip between the base and the camper. Squirt guns, intertubes, board games. Where was he getting all of this? "Do not overload zee camper! Achtung! I said listen to me, you!" the medic's chastenings fell on deaf ears as he put his suitcase of neatly folded clothes in the camper. "Do not be worrying doktor, teeny scout is just excited." the Heavy hitched the camper to the van before putting two red ice chests in the camper full of beers and sandvich meats. "Hudda Hudda Hudda." Pyro climbed aboard the camper and stowed a portable grill near his bag. "Firebug bring swimsuit?" the heavy took a seat and the whole camper shifted. The pyro retrieved a garment from his bag and unfurled it. An old timey one-piece with red horizontal stripes. The sight of the baggy swimwear put the Heavy into stitches. "You didn't pack any swimgear at all, dummkopf!" the medic sighed heavily as he peeked into the Heavy's poorly organized backpack. "Dah, I swim like fish! Naked!" "Gottenhimel..." "All I want is a tan that doesn't make me look like a raccoon." the spy uncloaked in the camper with a suitcase on his lap. "No one's forcin' you to wear that bloody sock on yer head, mate." the demoman was nursing a bottle of scrumpy in his seat, he'd been the first to finish packing. Did he pack anything besides scrumpy? "Wait...Who is sitting up front with ze sniper? It is a long drive, we cannot let him nod off at zee wheel." the spy cracked a window and lit a cigarette. The pyro quickly held up his index fingers on either side of his head, "Bhhnny nnhp!" Everyone stared for a few seconds and then quickly raced to not be the last one with bunny ears. Clean, empty jars clinked on the red shag carpeting of Sniper's van as the camper behind seemed to shift everytime the heavy moved from his seat. The aussie scratching his neck stubble and adjusting his windows. He flicked the bobblehead on his dashboard idly, feet up on the passenger's seat. He'd been in the van since morning (since he slept there), so it seemed to him that everyone was taking their damn sweet time prepping for this road trip. "We coulda taken Soldier's truck. Why my rig. This old van can't be expected to carry all of your fat asses that far." Sniper mumbled to himself. He didn't have to pack what with everything he owned being in the van. That was convenient. He had his big milk crate of casette tapes and everything. He could just look at the road awhile without thinking of shooting something on the horizon. Or listen for something other than a spy uncloaking behind him. He let the rest of the team take the reins on the planning, but he'd really pushed for this vacation. "Maybe I'll just stay on holiday forever."
This is really interesting so far. I'm eager to see where it goes. (And the OTP fag in me is screaming for Spy to sit up front but you can ignore that)
This is really cute, but still in-character. More!
There's some plan to the overall arc but I'm just going with whatever pops in my head for now. The van ride won't be taking up the whole thing. Time period is fixed near modern day for convenience. =============================================================== Scout trundled up to the camper with yet another armful of pool toys and things to pass the time, the engineer bumping into him from behind as he had to make an abrupt stop- the camper door swinging open in his face and the spy clambering out. "Aw, geez! Watch where the frig you're goin frog legs!" "Bunny up, who ever 'eard of such a thing." the spy snubbed his cigarette on the ground with a scowl. "What's the problem here, Mask?" the engineer had a backpack slung over one shoulder and a guitar case in hand. "We were just deciding who would be sitting shotgun to zee skulking hitman up front." "I reckon just one ain't enough. Six or seven guys in one camper is plenty, and Heavy may count for two." the engineer put his things on board with the soldier not too far behind. "I'm not sitting with that long range toutin', short lifespan havin', piss swilling-" "We get the picture hoss, just find a seat." "Hey, uh, I'll go. I mean, I guess. If you guys are all arguing about it." the scout shrugged, using a sliding door closet to stow the last of his unnecessaries. "Incredible!", the heavy shouted inside the camper. "Teeny couch turns into bed! Is marvel of engineering! Doktor, sit with me!" Soldier and Engineer climbed aboard, "I'm sure he ain't all bad you two. Worse comes to worse it'll just be a looong, quiet drive." the door shut behind them and the team inside was still making a ruckus shuffling about to find their seats. Medic and Heavy sat on the folded out couch bed and sorted through their collection of VHS tapes to put on the micro TV. "Nein, we are not watching that animated bear again." "Is my favorite." The Soldier sat on the floor next to the dinette table where Engineer, Pyro, and the Demoman sat. The pyro rifling through the board games scout left. "Ever play Texas Hold-em?" the engineer motioned for the soldier to sit up next to him as he shuffled a deck of cards. "So...Zee sniper awaits, non? And don't sink you can plug those noisebuds into your ears and ignore us zee whole ride." the spy had forgone his jacket and tie but kept the usual slacks and dress shirt, rolled up to his elbows. "Yeah, let's just get this friggin mess over with." the pair rounded the back of the camper to the passenger side of the van. The Sniper composed himself, moving his legs off the passenger seat and sitting up straight, clearing his throat and nudging aside some of his things from the back row of seats he usually left out of the van for floor space. He didn't expect company up front. "Eh...The beach house is at the back of bourke. So..." "What? What's that mean?" the scout took the passenger seat and the spy took the back. "Ee means it is a long ways away." "Oh." Scout couldn't help thinking everyone but the engie, soldier, and himself spoke a different language even in english. "Guess we need some tunes or somethin'. Where's the ipod dock?" "The what now?" the sniper rasped, looking at the weird white rectangle the scout was holding through his ray-bans. "Ee only has a tape deck, runner." the spy stretched over the seat on his back and opened a worn paperback book with a french title. "Aw geez..." the scout stowed the much too recent technology and looked at the weird bobblehead on the dashboard. Who was that supposed to be anyway? "I got uh...Got some tapes there." the sniper motioned to the milk crate as he turned the key in the ignition. The scout dragged it closer and put the crate on his lap as he sorted through the archaic analogs, the van pulling the camper with a creak and jostle away from the RED base. Half of the tapes seemed to be untitled compilations or mixes, and the other half was all crap from like, the 70s or something. One of his older brothers listened to stuff like this. Johnny O'Keefe, Bo Diddley, Buddy Holly, the Bee Gees, Men at Work, AC/DC... "No freaking way." the scouts rummaging brought him to the bottom of the crate, "You listen to Kylie friggin Minogue?" scout's laughing was cut off by the spy. "I assume you are familiar with her work scout? Why don't you put it on you love 'er so much." "I don't listen to that crap!" "It is very obvious that you are lying." the spy took only a glance at the scout and could read him with ease. "It's an old girlfriend's tape, that's all." the sniper kept his eyes on the road and tried to fight the feeling he was sitting in a doctor's office waiting ages for something. "You are lying too." the spy flipped a page as scout skipped tracks to "Can't get you out of my head." "I've had a girlfriend before mate, plenty women find a man like me handsome. In a roguish way." "Maybe, but you haven't kept anything she gave you, that's for certain." "Bloody weasel, think you know everything...?" the sniper lowered his voice to a growl. "He's just trying to read you man." the scout advised the sniper. Spy usually asked pressing questions to find out what he didn't know, and was a bit of a genius when it came to reading how people answered tough questions. "Well cut it out, you're not getting under my skin, mate." "Is zat a challenge...?" "It ain't an invitation, that's for damn sure. Stay out of my affairs." "Your affairs? Interesting word choice, non?" the scout caught the sniper's gaze and the huntsman kept his mouth shut, locked in a grimace until the spy's attention was back to his book. "Oi, change the tape. I can't stand this trollop anymore." "Oh, yeah, me too. It was just a joke..." the scout popped out the tape and fished for another. Men at work should do.
This interests me greatly. Moar!
I come from a land down under! This seems really cool. No idea where you're going with this but please do continue
The line about the iPod was a bit weird until I remembered the Earbuds item. Good work so far.
fffucking shit, suffered a power shortage a minute ago and lost a big wall of text. Here's another try. Adding some intrigue now. TF2 slice of life is pretty easy to write for but I figure I should get something moving. ================================================================ 'Who can it be knockin' at my door? Go 'way, don't come 'round here no more. Can't you see that it's late at night? I'm very tired, and I'm not feeling right. All I wish is to be alone; Stay away, don't you invade my home. Best off if you hang outside, Don't come in - I'll only run and hide.' Morning and afternoon passed quietly in the sniper's van, aided by Aussie rock groups on tape. Scout looked out the window and imagined himself running on the side of the road and jumping over obstacles. The spy had his book over his face and his hands folded on his stomach, presumably resting. The sniper let out a rattling breath, flexing his hands as the joints clasped to the wheel started to ache. He looked at scout briefly, then at the spy in his rearview mirror. 'Can't I have one bloody day in hell without a spy behind me?' he thought to himself. The road had taken them to the coast, grey and foggy, yet fresh and invigorating. Sniper cracked the window to let some of the ocean breeze into the musty van. It was hard not to let his thoughts wander. Wander as he stared at the rarely curving road, numbly making minute adjustments at the wheel... "I've said all there is to say mate, it's a bloody courtesy I'm telling you at all. First chance I get I'm breezing out of here for good." "You're telling me because you want me to convince you to stay." the blue spy sat under the window next to the red sniper scanning the field with his rifle. "You're wrong, because there's not a thing you can say to make me stay." Sniper was sure of that. Sure his resolve was beyond words. "je t'aime, mon cheri." the spy pulled himself up by one of the sniper's belt loops and got a quick shoulder to the rib, sending him back a pace. "I'm not desperate enough to believe that rot anymore. And it doesn't matter if we were star crossed lovers or not. I've had it. End of story." the sniper never pulled himself away from the window, he wanted to leave a few more corpses on the ground as a farewell present to the blues. The spy traced a gloved finger over the old scar down the sniper's cheek bone. "What's to say I will let you go so easily, hmm?" a sly laugh was caught in his throat as all at once the sniper was on him in a heap on the ground, "You'll be lucky if I let you go. I'm dead serious." The spy wheezed and kicked under the sniper. Why wasn't he letting go? Why was he squeezing so hard at his throat? His strangled gasps and curses wrought no reaction from the rifleman or his steady hands, who seemed ready for the first time to do his enemy in. "Hey pal, are you alright? Wanna switch drivers or something?" the scout couldn't help notice the sniper's thousand yard stare and troubled heaving breaths, like something was bubbling just under the surface. "Wot?" the sniper had to make a quick adjustment to keep the van on the road, his crushing white-knuckle grip on the wheel relaxing somewhat as his mind tried to catch up to the present. "Oh...No, I'd prefer to drive the whole way. No stops." "You know, I could use a bathroom break." the red spy lifted his book from his face and was met with a scornful glare from the sniper, "Then piss in a damn jar you masked git, I'm not stopping." "Merde. You must be joking." "Dead serious, mate."
The fluff is fucking adorable. Tiny quirks of all the classes together is always so goddamn enjoyable. but uh this flashback kinda came out of nowhere and I have mixed feelings about where it's going Also, Demo hasn't said a thing yet; don't forget about him
"I cannot believe this. This is not freakin' happening." the scout tugged on the bill of his cap as the spy reached for an empty glass jar. "Just don't sneak a peek, eh? Unless you want. Ohohoho." the spy scuttled behind the back row seat, opening a jar and zipping down his pants. "Zis is so wrong." "Quit whining." the sniper huffed, turning on his brights as the sky darkened for an early evening. At this pace they may just make it to the beach house late that same night. The farther away from base the better. The farther from the blus the better. The farther from the blue spy... ---------------------------------------------------------------- The blue spy finally went slack pinned under the Sniper, who didn't believe for a second that the french saboteur went with so little fight. He released the ragdoll's neck and walked somberly to exit the small shack, "You're not gonna keep me here anymore, so don't try to hold me down." as the door slammed there was a loud zap and the slumped blue spy appeared in a ploom of smoke and sparks against the wall, touching gingerly at his bruised neck, his voice too weak to call out. A round, gold-plated wristwatch engraved with a bird tightly clenched in his left hand. ---------------------------------------------------------------- The sniper swerved a bit to avoid going off the road when something clanged against the van's undercarriage and snapped him back to the present. "If I have to piss into a jar zee very least you could do is drive smoothly you snaggle-toothed chickenhawk!" the spy finished his business in the back of the van and zipped up his trousers, the Sniper grunting an uncharacteristic "Sorry." "You're makin me nervous pal." the scout removed the latest Bee Gees cassette that had finished playing from the deck. "For the last time...I. Am. Fine. Right as rain, chaps." The soldier slammed his palms on the dinky dinette table. "Impossible! I've had the seaboard under my command since the start of the game! I lost the tactical advantage to a nancy nurse and a drunk!? Engineer! I want an explanation for this blatant oversight!" The engineer threw up his hands looking down at the Risk board, "By all accounts, starting in Australia is the worst decision they could have made, and we had the army advantage by the numbers...But we lost Hoss, fair and square." "Unthinkable!" the soldier folded his arms, the engineer's arm slung over his shoulder doing little to assuage his petulance over losing a war game. The engineer's hand patted his far shoulder, "Hey we'll win the next one, pardner." "Aaaahahahaaa! Cheers, mate!" the demo clinked his bottle of scrumpy to the medic's glass of wine. "Careful! Ja, it vas a most miraculous victory. It would seem allying myself with Cyclops was not such a bad idea after all." he smiled smugly, when it came to cunning and wit he only ever found a match with the Engineer or the Spy. And it felt good to come ahead even in such a trivial arena. Places had changed multiple times over the hours of the trip. After some subtitled films that the Heavy slept through the medic had had enough and wanted in on the group's marathon of board games. The pyro switched places with him and was sitting awfully close to the Heavy for the third VHS collection of Winnie the Pooh in a row. "Silly old bear." the heavy chuckled, his eyelids heavy. It had been a very pleasant ride for him, he'd scarcely moved an inch on the folded out couch bed. "Mrrf mnf mrrmfruh." the pyro had put his head against the heavy's broad chest after sitting upright awkwardly for some time "Dah, he is disguised as rain cloud to fool the bees. He will eat all of their honey." "Vat next, hm...?" the medic started looking through other board games the group could play together when the van was rudely shaken, the light flickering overhead. "Och, bumpy road, eh...?" the demo fought to maintain his balance as he leaned to his bag for another bottle of scrumpy. The medic pulled on the Scotsman's sleeve at this, "You should leave some for the actual vacation. You are drinking too much." "Don't baby me, facist! Ah can drink every last bottle of scrumpy cuz they're /mine/ see!" the demo jerked away and strained to uncork the bottle. The medic and engineer exchanged glances and tried to work out in silence how to tackle the demo's ever burgeoning problem with overindulging of liquor. "Carcassone, you like that one right?" the engineer picked out a blue box from the stack of games. "The game with the farms and churches?" "Yeah, that's the one." the engineer dumped out the game board and pieces on the table for the city building game. Medic looking on, unsure of what to say as the Demo took quick, deep swigs one after the other. "Demo, really now!" "Ah said ah...! Och-!" the demo's free hand clasped over his mouth as he stumbled into the small camper bathroom and the group at the dinette all frowned as they heard him retching into the toilet. The fan in the bathroom turned on and they couldn't hear much more after that, but the demo stayed inside the water closet. "Pyro." the medic narrowed his eyes at the arsonist cuddling with his russian partner. "Go take care of zee Demo, jah? He has had too much to drink." "Teeny scotsman should pace himself. Or at least challenge me before drinking so much so fast." the heavy moved his trunk-like arm and the pyro rose, eyes averted shamefully from the German doctor as he headed for the bathroom to assist the besotted demolitions expert.
Aww the Heavy and the Pryo watching Pooh together. Made my night!
"Erryun knowaungh ahnuh *belch* ah love you, man." The pyro sighed and held the demo up over the toilet while he seemed hell bent on falling asleep against it, taking some paper towels to his beard and the spots he missed on the floor. "Mmnrmrrf mrhhurhmm mhnmdda hrmfhrmmr." "Ah know...Ah know! Ahcuntelsdlafaur...!" the slurring scotsman got some water splashed onto his face from the sink by the pyro. "Srry, Mmdrinking too much." "Nhr Hhnk?" the Pyro turned a rusty handle to open the bathroom's tiny window to clear the air. The Pyro was surprised how well the two could understand eachother...But he still didn't want to be the one to ask why the Demo tried to get himself blackout drunk right at the start of a nice vacation. "Stupid German. Likely deserter as always." the Soldier muttered after the Medic went back to sit by the Heavy. "I shoulda told Demo to quit the sauce earlier." the Engineer looked glum moving to the opposite side of the dinette table, the soldier quietly trying to refute him, "Medic's the one who told him to open the second bottle. And really, once a Scotsman has that much there's no stopping him. He's flushing it now, it's not a big deal. His liver will thank him for the practice." "As long as this doesn't turn into a bigger proglem..." the engineer mentally pushed the issue aside and grabbed a board game for 2. "Here's a good one: Stratego. It's got Reds, Blues, spies..." "I call--" "-Red, yeah take it." "Prepare to get dominated, blu scum!" "What was zat?" the medic sat at the edge of the fold-out bed "Was Pooh Bear." the Heavy scratched his stomach "Nein, I mean with pyro." the medic tapped at an armrest "...Was just Pooh Bear." the heavy gave the medic a look saying he didn't appreciate his doubts. "Es tut mir leid." the doctor pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, breaking eye contact. "Means sorry, yes?" "Jah." "Good. Pyro is friend." "Jah." "Now I watch Pooh Bear." "Very well zen." The scout had been sitting on his hands with his legs crossed the last fifteen minutes. He really didn't want to pee in a jar... "Christ, what is it? I know I'm not much of a conversation starter but I'd play along." the sniper tipped up his hat, noticing the Scout's strained expression. "Nah, uh...Can we pull over...? I gotta go." "Well which is it?" "Are you freaking kiddin' me?" "Please tell me he does not have to defecate into a jar." the spy scrunched his nose. "No, I can stop if that's the case I guess...But don't trouble me for nothin' mate." The runner sighed, "I gotta piss like a race horse man. Please let me do it outside!" The hunter shook his head, "None havin' chap. It's a big jar and this is a long ride. Go in the back and do the deed." The spy gave a snorting laugh and moved to sit up in the passenger seat. "Hey, don't steal my friggin seat!" The spy waved a finger, "You did not call zee 'take backs'. I am told zis too is an army ritual." "Nnno." the sniper shook his head, "More like juvenile ritual." "Well I stole his seat. Tough cookies." the spy picked up the milk crate, "Now let me see what we have here...De quoi? Corey, Hart, Men Without hats...Why do you have a tape of bands from Quebec?" "Wot, I can't have a tape with that on it?" "Seems out of place." "Nothin' 'seems' about it, just pick a damn tape." "French bands too...Lets listen to zis one shall we?" the spy found the tape deck in the dark and put in the tape before looking toward the back, "How's it coming Scoot? I heard you zip awhile ago you know." "If you two chuckleheads would stop looking back here all the time!" The Sniper tilted down his hat and redirected his line of sight to the lines on the road, "Quit foolin' yourself. I wasn't looking."
Outstanding. I can't stop chinhandsing at the interactions. This is gold. Very well-written. Adorable, and still seems purposeful. I can tell this is going somewhere. I wish you would de-anon so I could sing praises.
Don't really have a presence on the site or much elsewhere online or one that I'd want attached to fabulous tf2 fanfiction, but I guess it's not unthinkable I'll write something else eventually. ================================================================ "Jsh ghot ahead of meself, ah guess." the Demo groaned and sat up, wiping his sleeve over his mouth. "Dhrrnk Thhs" the Pyro shoved a glass of water to the swaying scot. "Ach, I dun want any of that..." "Dhrnk!" the Pyro insisted until he'd drained a glass and just as quickly filled another to push on him. The Medic was sworn to be the one to nurse people back to health when they're down and out, but it seems like whenever someone gets too drunk to stand up he wipes his hands of the matter entirely. He really seemed to scorn drinking in excess, and everyone else's reaction was to let them pass out and sleep it off. Pyro knew this was dangerous though; they could die of toxicity, dehydration, or choking on their own bile if they really went overboard. The Pyro had tended to the Demo before. The Heavy, Sniper, and Spy had gone too far a few times as well. He'd hydrate them, drag them to a bed, clean up their mess. He didn't really mind. He found it interesting to see them so helpless and docile, and hear them say things they might not say otherwise. "Yer a real angel a' mercy, gasmask. Ye can have sum of me scrumpy if ye want." the Demo offered, the Pyro holding up his arms in an 'X'. He wasn't interested in drinking. Getting drunk. Being so helpless. "Yer no fun." He shouldn't risk it. What if he loses himself and no one helps him? What if they did help him? Take his mask off, pat his shoulder, stay by his side awhile... No, the Pyro simply couldn't let such a thing happen. "So...Are you going lone wolf zee whole vacation? No one saw you during the summer..." Téléphone playing on the radio had masked the sound of Scout's business in the back, who settled in his new seat to plug in his earbuds and listen to his own music. "...That's how I relax best, mate." "You never seemed relaxed when I saw you. Don't try to pull a vanishing act on us again." That's just what the Sniper had intended to do from the start...They were all too insistent about this whole 'team' thing. He sits on a rafter or in a shed, or on a roof. And the team does it's own thing. "Gonna try and stop me?" "So testy...Oui, I'll drag you back kicking and screaming if I 'ave to. And I'll have help. So chin up, buckaroo." The Sniper did the mental math again. They should only be an hour or two away. Late Night. Not another soul for miles around. "How long do you intend to fight the war, mate?" "Until I get bored of it I suppose." the spy rolled up the window, goosebumps lining his forearms. "Let's say I'm bored of it." The van was quiet for some time. The scout obliviously tapped his foot and looked up at the van's ceiling as he shuffled through his music. "Zen have a good going away party, non? Make a connection before it's too late." "Shouldn't I just make a clean break?" "Non, we'll still remember you. Care to be remembered fondly?" "I could care less." "Then why not leave on your own...?" "I had to make sure." The spy watched the etchings of the sniper's stony expression carefully, lit up green by the lights on the dashboard. "Sure of what?" he asked quietly. So quietly he considered repeating himself, as for the longest time the Sniper didn't say a thing or make any kind of reaction. The spy ventured a guess, "Make sure you wouldn't be followed?" The aussie's thin lips drew close to his teeth, two irregular blinks and a glance toward the left. "By someone on zee blue team...?" the spy slid over to sit closer to the driver. "You don't need to say. I know. It is zee S-Ow!" inching ever closer the red spy got a good punch in the upper arm from the sniper. "What did you do zat for?" "Make sure you weren't..." "Someone is paranoid...Do we seem so much alike? Zee other mask and I?" "Same accent. Same stink. Same ugly suit." "Non, non, non. My suits are nice. And our accents are totally different." the Spy smiled and continued his persistent closing of proximity, changing the tape in the deck. "Got the same bad habits too. You're a bit close for comfort, mate..." The spy's hand trailed over the sniper's leg, "Which songs did you make love to, hmm?" "Bugger off!" the wheel jerked as the Sniper pushed away the lecherous spy. There was a loud -POP!- and a -BANG!- from the back of the van and grey smoke startled to pour out and up over the roof. The scout sat up in a jolt, taking off his earbuds, "Woah! What's goin' on!?" "Bloody hell!" the Sniper took the van off the road, the camper rocking behind it before rolling to a stop. The spy coughed into his hand, sliding to the passenger seat. "I seem to have made a bit of a mess of things. Please forgive me." The Sniper ignored his apology and stepped out, slamming the driver door behind him. From the camper the Engineer stepped out as well, the two meeting in the middle. "Hey, what happened?" "Car troubles." "Aw hell...Can't see a thing..." the Engineer took a look at the back of the van. "Would ya mind us just campin' out here for the night...?" "Honestly it's the last thing I want..." "Don't sweat it, we'll get up bright and early, fix the rig, and be at the house in time for breakfast." the Engineer gave the Sniper a pat on the shoulder and headed back into the camper to break the news. The Sniper leaned against the van. He really didn't want to share a sleeping space with anyone right now. No stars, no moon, no wind. Just a cold beach with lapping black waters and wet sand. The Sniper pulled off his Ray-bans and stared into the nothingness spread bare before him. If he had the stones he'd wade out into the surf and let it carry him away. To a deserted island, or the crushing depths of an octopus garden. Either would do.
The Engineer shined a light on the engine. "Yeeaup, one of the valve guides on this cylinder disintegrated. We'll have to take the whole damn engine out to replace the head. No quick fix for it I'm afraid." Hardhat had stepped out of the camper again to take some quick notes for the morning repair job, "Scout hasn't been buggin' the piss out of ya, has he?" The sniper had sat down against the van, elbows on his knees, and fingers bridged in front of his face. "Nah, it's that bloody spy..." The Engineer leaned against the van, eyeing the glum Sniper. "Wanna hear a joke?" "Not particularly." "What does a French military alliance and a French romance have in common?" "What?" "Both are brief, sordid, and meaningless." "Heh." "Some of us in the camper'll be sleeping outside, there ain't enough floor space for us all. You can kick out the Spy or stay out if you feel like it." The sniper stood up, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. It was so late...Camping outside they'd probably be making a ruckus and staying up even more. "Thanks for the offer, mate. May kick out the spy if he's not on his very best behavior." Pyro and Soldier pulled a tarp, tent, and bedrolls from the camper. Engineer figured they might have ended up in a jam like this and liked to be prepared. "Mmfr crmmpfhr?" "We'll put one up in the morning. It's not that cold is it?" Sniper closed the driver door and turned off the car, killing the radio. Spy and Scout were sitting in the back now. "So, uh...Car's busted?" the scout took off his hat, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah. You can sleep on the floor or outside. Either way, help me take out the back seat." "We're all gonna...Sleep in the back here?" the Scout reached for his bag, "Again, this or outside." the Sniper set down his hat on the dashboard and pulled off his vest. "No, no, it's cool. I mean, it's not cool. It's not weird either. Wait who sleeps in the center?" "You do." his necklace, Ray-bans, and snakeskin boots were set aside. The spy held back a chuckle, pulling up the legs to the back row of seats and moving them further up the van for some headroom in the back as the Scout rolled out his sleeping bag on the shag carpet. "Aw, geez, what the friggin hell are you doin'?" "I sleep in my briefs. Or less." the Spy pulled off and folded his clothes, laying a quilt next to the wall and padding onto it in his red heart boxer-briefs. The Scout bundled himself into the sleeping bag and zipped it up from the inside, pulling a drawstring at the top and rolling over to face away from the Scout. "Facing away? Want to spoon? Ohoho." "I don't want to look at your ugly mug without that mask on." the Scout smiled smugly. He burned that spy good. "So cruel." the Spy pulled off his mask and set it down, his brushed-back brown hair laying close and flat to his scalp after being contained for so long, curling outward slightly at the nape of his neck. The Sniper took a quick glance at the Spy's face as he found his usual cot and blanket in the van, briefly lit up as he set an alarm on his wristwatch. Patches of twisting dark orange and pink marred the Spy's face, neck, and shoulders. Prewar injuries apparently. Definitely burn scars. Sometimes he'd see the Spy gingerly dabbing ointments and oils on his wounds in the washroom, but they looked just as bad then as they did now. The only reason Sniper hadn't kicked out the saboteur was knowing he'd have to bunk with the Pyro. Even if the Pyro was perfectly kind and helpful to him, the Spy was on edge around him at all times. Some people just didn't mesh together in their happy little 'team.' The Sniper caught the Scout's gaze, who bashfully rolled on his back to look at the ceiling instead. The dark van was quiet for some time, the Spy laying on his stomach with his arms folded under his cheek. "So...No pillow talk?"
The Scout bundled himself into the sleeping bag and zipped it up from the inside, pulling a drawstring at the top and rolling over to face away from the Scout. away from the Spy* Is there no edit? I'm usually good about checking for errors too. ==================================================================
I usually avoid giving feedback because I'm terrible at wording my thoughts, but I think you need to know that you're doing a fantastic job so far. I especially enjoyed the little tidbit about Spy being uncomfortable around Pyro and your characterization of Scout.
"If he wants to sleep in his suit, that's his business Hoss. Don't give him any grief." the Engineer gargled some mouthwash and spat it into the dirt outside, putting away his travel toothbrush and paste before re-entering the tent, dressed down for the night in red longjohns. "Hhnks Enghrnghr." the Pyro put his boots and gloves outside the tent but wouldn't think of baring any more than that, pulling a blanket over himself. "You think he'd been born in that baggy mess..." Soldier laid on his back, arms folded behind his head. "Hh Whnsn't." though if he remembered right he had to be put in a sort of plastic bubble for some time after his birth. No one could lay a hand on him or hear him cry. Just watch, take notes, and move on... "Why don't you take off your dogtags, huh?" the Engineer tugged at the Soldier's chain. "I'm a soldier, that's why!" the Soldier tugged back at the chain, "Those tags are for identifying my corpse. And I'm always ready and rarin to die for a good fight." "I thought those reckless days were over." the Engineer frowned, "If we're ever really in the deep I expect you to keep your promise." "Whht Phrrmhs?" the Pyro rolled over onto his side. "...Hardhat expects me to /retreat/, like some kind of Frenchman!" "Hh Phrmhs thh." the Pyro nodded. "'Ll rhn hwhy." "You're going to turn this team into a bunch of turncoat commies. We may as well put our boots on backwards!" the Soldier had made the promise some time ago but still never seemed happy about it. "We're not fighting for some grand cause anymore, Hoss. Blus aren't takin' over the world any time soon. And the only people they manage to kill is us. Soldiers for hire can afford to fight another day." "It ain't honorable...The only reason I promised at all is...To cover your retreat! Understand?" The Engineer chuckled, "Sure, much obliged. You too Pyro. You'll be a big help when the time comes." The Pyro was glad to be included. Glad to be useful. He'd died before defending a point well after it's defenses fell. He'd blast them off the point with compressed air, swing his axe like a murder-happy madman, go down in a blaze of glory. But even in the pain of death he knew he'd be back again soon. If the day came that things weren't quite the same...Well he wouldn't have to die alone. Maybe he could make his getaway with the Engineer and the Soldier. "Is he asleep?" "I can't tell. But we should sleep too. No messing around. I got a lot of work to do in the morning." The Soldier grumbled and the Pyro smiled, he'd just pretend to be asleep. Be a fly on the wall of the tent.
You've got a great concept here, I like what you're doing. It's very sweet! Your dialogue can be a little confusing sometimes though. It's not always clear who's speaking. Try to make an effort to smack that Enter key between quotes, and add a "[so-and-so] said" afterwards if there are more than two participants in the conversation. Some of the characters' speech patterns are a little uncharacteristic, but that may be because I'm not always sure who's talking. I believe I saw the Spy say "buckaroo," which would be one thing if he was teasing Engie, but elsewise it seems odd. I recommend studying idioms and such from the various languages/dialects of the team. Apart from that, great job! Hope to see you continue.
I have trouble thinking of segues beyond '[blank] said/replied' or basic stage business. When it comes to dialogue, though I have been trying to make it clearer I'm still leaving it blank sometimes thinking people can guess based on the context. I'll try to do that less. Spy said Buckaroo in a teasing way, though I didn't stop to think that was a phrase unique to cowboys. Maybe he was imitating the engineer, he seems like the mediator of the team to me. The idiom thing was a great tip. I've only been looking up phrases here and there.
"I just kinda stood there and she didn't notice...Uh, so I guess that's the first time I saw a woman's breasts." the Scout fiddled with the zipper on his sleeping bag, he'd moved closer to the Sniper's cot but only because that Spy kept rolling over to him and complaining about how cold it was. He should have kept his clothes on if it was so freaking cold. The two of them had been whispering to eachother for awhile. Neither could sleep. Whispering so as not to wake up the Sniper. "You shouldn't peep on your mum, mate. That's twisted." the Australian's low growl came so unexpectedly that the Spy and Scout were equally spooked for a moment. "I-I wasn't peepin'! Why'd she leave the door open if she's gonna take a shower!?" the Scout rolled to face the Sniper, and could barely make out his shape in the dark. "I cannot blame him, she is a mature and beautiful woman." the Spy taunted the Boston runner. "You haven't even seen my mom, you lousy snail-sucking scumbag! the Scout flailed in his sleeping bag until he landed a kick on the Frenchman's leg. "Gah! Do not doubt my information gathering." the Spy blew a puff of air at the Scout's ear and laughed as he made a fuss about it. "I saw her drop you off after that weekend you took 'sick leave'. She kissed you on zee cheek! I don't think anyone else on the team has had such a nice send-off. Oh well, seeing your Mother or Sister first is common. You live with them. Once you live with people..." 'Community Shower' had become such a constant issue in the team's 'Complaint Box' that the Engineer installed seperate stalls with doors. The Pyro was very supportive of the new installments. "You're supposed to tell me who you saw first already." the Scout mumbled. "Still trying to sleep..." the Sniper pulled his pillow over his head. "Annette, Esther, Diane, Hannah..." the Spy whispered, "Woah, why are you listing so many names?" the Scout stopped the Spy's listing. "Sneaked into an all girls school. I peeped into a changing room naturally." the Spy explained. "That doesn't explain how you know their names." the Scout had turned to the Spy and lowered his whispering to not bother the Sniper so much. "I memorized them when I snuck in after zey left and raided their lockers for spare undergarments, naturally." "You're a skeevy weirdo, you know that?" the scout could see the spy's eyes. "It was a right of passage, zat is all. But maybe I am." "...Psst." the Scout rolled over again toward Sniper. "Are you awake...?" "I'd really like to be." the Sniper was beyond exasperated. "Uh...When was the first time you saw a woman's breasts?" the Scout asked, "Wot, like in a movie?" the Sniper pulled his head out from under his pillow. "Nnnnooo..." the Scout was surprised, "I mean real live breasts, man." "Eh...I don't remember." the Sniper mumbled, rolling over to face the wall. "Mon dieu." the Spy snickered, "You've never seen a live naked woman, have you?" the Sniper pulled his blanket over his shoulder, "Lived in the boonies. Not many girls but some nuns, widows, and wives. Enlisted. Worked. Just didn't come up, that's all." "Should come up at /least/ once..." the Scout prodded. "Well it didn't." the Sniper dismissed. "Maybe zee bowman just wasn't looking, hmm...?" the Spy chimed in, laying against the Scout and not getting complaints. "Go. To. Bed--Scout!" the Sniper turned back as he realized with the cot's shifting weight that the Scout had rolled up next to him "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?!" "Spy was...!" "Get the hell off my cot, you git!" the Sniper tried to push the Scout off but was impeded by the Spy moving onto the edge of the bed. The Scout panicked and hid in his sleeping bag as the Spy and Sniper fought for space on the cot. "This ain't a Queen bed, mate! I'll kick you outside!" the Sniper realized he was nearly shouting and brought his voice down. "Please don't, I will surely freeze. Besides, I think I saw a bug in the shag carpet. Filthy." The scout still served as a decent barrier between he and the rogue, so the sniper simply gave up. "‘bonne nuit" the Spy whispered. It made the Sniper's skin crawl, "Just say good night." "Good night, zen." "Good night." the Sniper pulled away his pillow for his personal use and faced away from the others. "...Night." the Scout wasn't sure how it had ended up like this, but being in the middle he couldn't just get out of it so easily. "Come out of your sleeping bag, you'll suffocate." the Spy sighed. "...Don't...Breathe on me! Weirdo." the scout's head reappeared from the cocoon of his sleeping bag, just enough for him to be able to breathe, facing the wall like sniper. "I'll try not to breathe so much." the Spy closed his eyes. Mission accomplished, he wasn't quite so cold now. But changing the cold nature of the Sniper before he abandoned the team for good may be more difficult than getting the three of them onto one twin-sized bed.
"...Psst." the Scout rolled over again toward Sniper. "Are you awake...?" "I'd really like to be." the Sniper was beyond exasperated. "Are you Asleep...?"* "I'd really like to be." the Sniper was beyond exasperated. ------------------------------------------------------------ I read and re-read but I didn't catch this until after I posted it.
OK it's late and I wanted to do another post, just finished and I really want to sleep so sorry if there are more obvious dumb errors =============================================================== After fixing the van in the wee hours of the morning and driving the last hour to the beach house on empty stomachs most of the team was understandably crabby, and the cold gray beachline wasn't helping. "Hrnnnn..." the Pyro sighed, heaving his shoulders lugubriously and carting luggage up a wooden stairway. "Is like Beach at St.Petersburg in Winter. Cold and boring." the Heavy agreed with the Pyro after glancing at their foggy surroundings, his stomach growling audibly. "I'm sure the weather'll clear up, let me just unlock the door here..." the Engineer went up to try the door when he found it was already unlocked, opening the door for the others. He figured he'd keep that to himself, the inside looked alright anyway. Undisturbed. "So filthy. There is dust everywhere!" the medic set down his bags in the entry way and looked through one in particular for a set of disposable gloves. "Medic! No time for cleaning! Must break fast!" the Heavy pleaded with the doctor, cluttering the hallway further with his baggage. "Don't just park your junk wherever!" the Engineer complained but was soon dinned by the noise of four other people dragging in gear and talking simultaneously. "Hh chn chhk!" "You can has what now?" the Heavy turned to face the Pyro, puzzled by his mumblings. "Uhhh Chhhhn Chhhuuuck" the firebug tried drawing out his words and making hand gestures. "You put...What into cans?" the Heavy put a hand next to his ear. The Pyro was a bit exasperated now, next he tried moving his hand in circles over his stomach "Rhhhmbly Thmmbly!" "Oh! Rumbly Tumbly! Yes! You can...cook? Cook! Cook eggs, and sausage, and bacon..." the Heavy stopped himself from salivating, "There is kitchen, we can unpack later. We are credit to team!" "Molds, dusts, spiders, rats...Sanitizing zis wretched place will take all day..." the Medic's train of thought had been far, far away while the heavy and pyro ran off to play chef. "I'll find a vacuum. Try to help you out, doc. /After/ I put away my things." the Engineer wasn't going to clutter up the entryway, no sir. The Demo called after him as he headed down the hall to the right, "Jes how many rooms are there?" "Six. Figure three people can sleep in the living room. We can rotate." the Engineer replied over his shoulder. "I demand to have a room. Especially if I have to be the one to clean all of them." the Medic started to dust tables and wash the windows, "Heavy...!" he raised his voice. "Whaaat...!" the Heavy called back from the kitchen. "Turn a fan on when you're cooking the bacon! And make sure the dishes are clean!" "Hmph, is clean..." the Heavy observed quietly, grating potatoes with an old cheese grater he found in a rusty wooden drawer. The Pyro was humming something but he had no idea what it was. "I say we decide rooms by another game! That wee scout brought them after all." the Demo stretched and looked out one of the clean windows the Medic just finished wiping down. "Headcount! Soldier, present!" the Soldier shouted, stomping his feet on the welcome mat and walking inside, counting off people he could hear inside the beach house. "Where is the Sniper and the Scout!" "They were in the van with..." as the Demo pondered an answer a chair slowly moved away from the head of the table the Medic was cleaning. The three present to see the event stared blankly at the chair and then each other. That chair had moved on it's own hadn't it...? While the Scot and the Soldier looked terrified the Medic leaned over and spritzed the chair with a cleaning solution. There was a spark in the air and the Spy shimmered and decloaked into visibility, biting his lip and soon failing to hold in a long, snorting laugh. "The looks on your faces...!" "Where is zee Scout! And zee Sniper! They could be helping! In fact, you all could!" the Medic tossed a rag into the Spy's lap. "Zey are still asleep, I couldn't bear to wake them. I drove the last stretch here." the Spy explained. "I'll wake those sissies up! When the bugle calls your feet are supposed to hit the deck! Rise and shine! No sleeping in!" the Soldier ranted to himself, heading back down the wooden front steps toward the van.
"You can has what now?" Oh lord, that got me, along with Spy's cloaked hijinks. Now I'm only able to picture Pyro putting on his boiface and begging for a cheeseburger.
Still in love with this fic. If ever you want a beta to help with the little things that annoy you, let me know.
I really do enjoy this. It's funny and relaxing without being childish... much. "Hmph, is clean..." the Heavy observed quietly, grating potatoes with an old cheese grater he found in a rusty wooden drawer. The Pyro was humming something but he had no idea what it was. Unless I'm very mistaken, wood can't rust; did you mean the cheese grater was rusty? Also, why is he grating a potato (where did he find it?) with a cheese grater? This is a cheese grater: http://www.dimensionsguide.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/03/Dimension-of-a-Cheese-Grater.jpg Potato go smush smush? That aside, loving everything!
This is the anonymous from before. Apologies for putting sage in the wrong box. I feel like a dunce.
Small detail, but the wooden drawer has metal slides. The wood's old and the slides are rusty. And I take it you've never made hash browns that way :P http://amysfinerthings.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/hashbrowns3.jpg Where he got the potato is a good question. I didn't mention them packing much else besides meats and boozes but let's assume they brought some basic food staples.
Correct, I have never made hash browns. Don't you need oil and butter for hash browns though? Something fry-able to bind them together? I guess if you burn them enough or use really hard liquor they might stick... Pyro will find a way!
I wanted to be a bit further along by now, but I was getting stuck staring at empty space the last few days I tried to write. Thanks for everyone's comments =============================================================== The Heavy patted the grated potatoes dry, forming them together into a large patty to put in the frying pan Pyro was removing finished slices of bacon from. The hashbrown sizzled in the bacon's grease as the heavy looked through the dusty cabinets above for seasoning and finding only one pair of salt and pepper shakers. After seasoning the crisping hash he checked the fridge to find only a box of baking soda. "There is no catsup for my hashbrowns, or my eggs..." "Yhrr shhld thryy hht shhce!" "Oh Pyro, if only I could understand your mumblings. You sound like crow muffled with scarf." The Pyro held up a bottle of hot sauce he'd packed with his usual tools for cooking and grilling. "Is not the same...But I will try. Thank you." the Heavy flipped the hashbrowns with a wide spatula as the Pyro started transferring food into the living room. The Pyro had to slap at the Demoman's hand as he reached for a slice of bacon, "Whht fhrr evvhryhhn!" and slapped again when he clearly didn't understand his warning. "Engineeer! Get in here, ah'm hungry!" the Demoman called down the hall as he, the spy, and the medic sat at the table. "Hrrm...Whht...Dhhs evvhryhnn whhnt thh dhrnk?" the Pyro asked. once the Doctor had requested a coffee everyone else at the table got the gist of the question and asked for the same. The engineer sauntered in and sat at the table with the others, "Had to finish settin' up a dispenser." he took off his hat when he sat at the table. "Do we really need one of those here? I think not." the Medic drummed his fingers on the table a bit impatiently, being this hungry made him think of the bad times. "Always be prepared." the Engineer recited, checking off something in a small book with a short pencil. "What a boyscout." the Spy scoffed at the texan, averting his eyes even as the Pyro came around the table and offered him a cup of coffee. He'd already added cream and sugar to his liking. Did the Pyro pay attention to how he took his coffee? He couldn't help but be creeped out by him. He had zero intel on the guy, which set off some alarms in his head since day one. Oh, and he wears the getup of his greatest threat on the battlefield but in red. He couldn't help but freeze up if he ever saw him late at night in the base. "Thanks, Pyro." the Engineer raised his cup, "Aye, thanks." the Demo added. "Shoot, I haven't heard you two say thank you to Pyro. Where'd you boys get your manners?" the Engineer frowned. "Thank you for breakfast. I'm sorry, I spaced out." the Medic pinched the bridge of his nose, taking off his glasses. "Merci." the Spy mumbled out from behind his cup. "Eggs! And hashbrowns!" the Heavy appeared from the kitchen to bring the other dishes to the table, "Hm? We are still missing..." "They'll be up in a moment I'm sure. Can we eat now? Before it gets cold." the Medic insisted, his cold eyes on the Pyro. "Hrrrmm..." the Pyro shied away, wanting to stick to his guns but backing down. "Just save enough for everyone." the Engineer asked the team, everyone digging in at once. =============================================================== There was a knock on the window of the van and the Scout blinked awake, and jolted back with a start when he saw the Sniper's face close to his in bed. Climbing out of the sleeping bag and getting out from under the Sniper's arm proved to be a bit of a hassle and by the time he reached the window he didn't see anyone there. "Huh? Who was knocking?" the Scout looked around. "WAKE UP YOU LOUSY, BLEEDING HEART, BIRD WATCHING MAGGOTS!" the Soldier quickly walked up to the van, his yell loud enough to rouse the Sniper, who sat up and rubbed his eyes, digging around for his vest and belt. "Ey Soldier, were you the one who knocked just now?" the Scout rolled the window down and leaned out, seeing no one else outside. "What are you talking about son, I just got here! Now get yer asses upstairs before I send you there on the steel-toed express!" the Soldier stomped his way to the stairs to go back inside. "Noisy lummox." the Sniper grumbled, moving to the dash to grab his hat and glasses. "...I thought we were still on the road." the Scout was rather confused taking in his surroundings. "Wot? No, I remember being woken up when they were fixing the rig...But I guess I didn't want to wake up then. Well? Are you getting out or what?" the Sniper looked at the Scout who was sitting in the driver's seat, blocking the door he was closest to. The Scout clambered out, kind of embarrassed to think he'd slept the whole time- and that close to the outdoors-man. "Uh, yeah, well...See ya upstairs!" the runner was off like a jackrabbit. "What's he sprinting for...Yeesh." the Sniper ran a hand over his haggard face. He'd had a slew of bad dreams but couldn't take his head off the pillow if he was paid to he was that tired. He looked up the wooden steps, just reaching the bottom as the scout went inside. The Sniper looked over his shoulder when he thought he heard something by the van. The beach was so still any noise seemed to startle him he guessed. Just his imagination.
Wondering who to pair up now, and what exactly to do. I could have inner monologues, flashbacks, or one on one scenes forever and not get anywhere. So trying not to do any of that too much. =============================================================== "So, what do we do now? Got the whole day ahead of us." the engineer pushed out his chair from the table and sat comfortably, the Pyro and the Demoman in the kitchen washing the dishes. "You mean after cleaning zis dump." the Medic propped himself up on an elbow. "I was thinking barbecue for dinner. As was Engineer and Pyro." the Heavy was still hungry, but they'd eaten everything that had been prepared. "By God, there's nothing more American that charred meat on a sandy beach. Say Sniper, want to throw some 'shrimp on the barbee'?" the Soldier ribbed the huntsman who didn't seem to think it was so funny. It didn't help that it was perhaps the 37th time he'd heard it. "We don't have to do anything, do we? I'd be fine just resting. Maybe take a walk later." the Sniper rasped, pouring another coffee for himself. "Besides meals, cleaning, and sleeping! This trip's supposed to be /fun/!" the Scout complained. "I say we play some baseball." The sport got mixed reactions from the table with predictable results, and most everyone interjected with their own ideas since it wasn't the right weather to lounge on the beach like they planned. "A board game, we could play that one with the murders. Clue, was it?" the Spy suggested. "I'll be sitting out, I've had enough of board games for now. Once we're finished cleaning I wouldn't mind just watching a movie or relaxing like the Sniper says." the Medic chipped in, people speaking right after or over one another. "Boxing! I will fight with one hand tied behind my back." the Heavy boasted, who could usually only get the stubborn Soldier to try duking it out hand to hand. It's questionable if there was a weight class for a man of Heavy's size. The Engineer sided with the Spy, the Soldier sided with the Scout. "Pyro! Tavish!" the Engineer called, "How do you reckon we should pass the time?" the pair appeared from the kitchen and gave the question some thought after hearing what the others wanted to do. The Pyro wanted to play board games and the Demoman wanted to relax. "Well we've got enough people for a board game, everyone else can relax if they like. We'll play baseball later." the Spy shrugged, getting the team to agree on anything was always a pain. "Soldier and Scout can box me! As a team!" the Heavy laughed. "Cleaning! We have to do zee cleaning! No goofing off until then!" the Medic stood from his chair and everyone groaned. The doctor went taskmaster on the team and gave everyone chores to complete so the house could be cleaned in a timely fashion.
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I really hope this hasn't been discontinued, I was enjoying it.
The Medic clapped his gloves together after closing the door to the supply closet, "Kein Problem!" After much badgering the team had successfully cleaned the beach house. Where were they anyhow? The Medic looked around for some time, calling out names before hearing a loud -thud- from the garage. Quickly tromping down the stairs and flinging open the door revealed the team all watching the Soldier and the Scout brawling with the Heavy, who despite his word ealier was using both hands to fight off his opponents. There was an open cooler with the Engineer, Demoman, and Soldier flanking it with beers in hand. The others had abstained for now. "It is good day to be giant man!" the Heavy laughed, already rebounding after being thrown into the wall by the Soldier, the Scout's punches to his ribs still feeling like light taps- he scooped up the Scout and tossed him at the Soldier, who fell to the ground in a heap. The two were soon gasping for air and calling for help as the Heavy belly flopped on top of them, "1! 2! 3! I am the winner!" the Heavy got up again and threw uppercuts into the air. "You said boxing, not wrestling!" the Soldier groaned and pushed the Scout off of him, quickly being fussed over by the Medic. "Was tag-team match. Boxing is 1 vs 1!" the Heavy knew he may have bent the rules, but he was getting winded- and the indignant punches from the Soldier had done a number on his chin and the bridge of his nose. (the Soldier practically jumped to land that one) "You could have at least set down a tarp or something! If someone fell the wrong way they could crack their skull and bleed /everywhere/! It would never wash out." the Medic seemed chilled by the prospect, prodding his fingers against the Scout's ribs to see if he would yelp in pain. "Guess that checks out." "How bout you fight, doc?" the Demoman set down a bottle and picked another out of the cooler. "Draw from the hat." the Engineer extended his white ten gallon upside down and filled with folded slips of paper. The Medic scanned the room. Everyone was participating then? He may as well. Reinforce his image as a fighter with the team. Support or not, when he saw an enemy on their last legs he was sooner to finish them himself with a saw than ask a teammate to take care of it. He pulled off his gloves and coat and drew a name. His eyebrows raised. "The Pyro." time to knock some sense into the gasmask, he's been far too chummy with the Heavy and simply put he didn't like it. "Mhrr?" the Pyro stood up from his seat, getting pushed into the makeshift ring by Demoman. "Well don't worry too much, I'll heal you when it's over." the Medic nearly forgot he still had his glasses on. He'd have to go without, and passed them to the Heavy before standing opposite the firebug. "We ain't got a bell! DING!" the Demoman clanked two of his bottles together but the two squaring off stood still and sized eachother up. The Pyro saw the same game face Medic wore before he'd throw himself at an enemy. The Medic saw...Well, a gasmask. "Go, go, go!" the Heavy called and the two closed in on eachother. "He's cheering for me!" the Medic seethed quietly with his teeth clenched. The two traded punches at close range, the Medic winning a number of exchanges and counters with his longer reach and height. The second time he knocked the Pyro down it took him some time to get back up, knees wobbling. But he did get up. They'd time a few minutes, call a round, and start again. The Medic shed his shirt and rolled down his suspenders by the third round. His sides ached, and it made it hard to move his legs. He was panting and sweaty and could only imagine the bog in the Pyro's suit, who had to wipe fog from the eyeholes in his mask periodically. The Pyro rushed in all the same and started throwing sharp hooks at his ribs that made him want to fall to his knees. The Medic stepped in and threw up a right that connected with the Pyro's chin and made him fall on ass. He tried to get up and lost his balance. His eyes were connected with the floor and his whole body heaved trying to breathe. He put his hands on his knees and rose. The bottles clinked to end a round and the Medic wasn't sure how much more punishment either of them could take. "Heavy- Towel." The Heavy looked confused but threw it in anyway on the Medic's behalf. "A forfeit!? It was just getting good!" the Soldier gripped his head in his hands. The Medic went to put a hand on the Pyro's shoulder, but he had turned and rushed to the trash bin, lifting his mask and spitting into it. He spat and gagged and gasped and he felt a chill seeing the Pyro's scarred face, the bottom half sloppy with blood pouring from his nose and lip. He had been fighting for minutes swimming with it in his mask... The Medic thrust some cotton gauze from a pocket into the Pyro's hand and led him toward the stairs, keeping his face out of view from the others. "entschuldigen Sie bitte...!" The door shut and the room was quiet. The Scout leaned over and blanched seeing the amount of blood the Pyro had spat up into the bin. "Well he kept it off the floor, good man. Who's next?" the Soldier finished his own drink and grabbed another bottle, only to put it on what felt like an incoming bruise on his face courtesy of the Heavy's gorilla-like fist. The Demoman belched and reached into the hat, "Ah'll go! Whoever I pick is in for a bruising!" he opened the slip and had to stare at it for a beat, eye focusing. "ENGINEER!"
The Sniper grimaced. As each name was removed from the hat...Well, if he was participating he'd be fighting the Spy next. They caught the other's gaze briefly and looked away, the Spy looking pleased for some reason. He reached for a beer of his own and figured he'd better down it quick. The matchup seemed as mismatched as the Soldier vs. Heavy. The Engineer was compact, and could certainly move a heavy load- but the Demoman was much taller and could kill a man with a golf club when he swung hard enough. "The Medic'll have to mop you up next, boyo!" "Don't test my mettle, son!" the glove was off and his overalls were at his waist. The Scout clinked the bottles this time and the fight started. The Engineer got shut down fast, he couldn't get near the Demoman before getting hit in the face with a right straight. Two downs and he'd barely laid a finger on him. The Soldier was offering advice from the sidelines but it all boiled down to 'stop getting hit and hit him instead'. He put up his guard once he was up and let the Cyclops come at him. The Soldier and Heavy bemoaned the Engineer's usual turtle strategy, but he was just waiting for the right moment and hoping his arms and gut would hold out from the Demoman's pummeling. The Engineer ducked and weaved under the next right and threw a hard jab into the Demoman's solar plexus right as he had finished exhaling. Out of breath and reeling, the Demoman was pushed back by a rush of punches from the bald Texan, and even when he tried to retaliate, he kept retreating out of his peripheral vision, exploiting his sight. He caught a mean hook to the temple and fell down to much applause for the Engineer. The Demoman slurred his speech, he felt ready to puke on the floor right there and the room just kept on spinning no matter how much he swore at it. "Towel! Bucket!" he groaned and forfeited the match, figuring a loss was less shameful than puking on hardhat in the next round. "Phew!" the Engineer dropped into his chair and wiped his brow, "Figured you were putting away too much of that. Don't you worry, I'm a humble victor." he grinned smugly, happy to have won when all signs pointed to him getting knocked out. Even drunk the Scotsman was dangerous, maybe even moreso. But it can't help you if you can't keep it down. The Scout and the Heavy moved the Demoman out of the ring and held his shoulders as he vacated his stomach into the bloody, filthy trash can. There was no salvaging it. They'd have to hose it out and throw it away all the same. The Spy moved for the ring, "No need to look at the hat, yes?" jacket, tie, and gloves off, sleeves up to the elbow. "Come on then, up up." The team looked over to the Sniper who scowled back, "Figure I could end up puking too, eh?" "Oh, you only had one, get up." the Spy scoffed, showing off his footwork and moving in a semi-circle. "Is good practice, dah? Fighting Spy?" the Heavy suggested to the Sniper. "Yes, you wouldn't want to lose in a fight against the enemy spy would you? No telling what he'd do..." he smiled and it drove the Sniper to his feet- vest, hat, and glasses off. "I already know the outcome of that fight mate, and it's going to play out right here, right now. The only difference'd be you'll keep your head if you're lucky." The Medic and Pyro emerged from the stairwell and headed down to take their seats, the team too focused on the bout to begin to pay them any mind. The bottles clinked and the Sniper started throwing punches. He'd only been in a few fist fights. A few in a bar, one in a shooting range, and one in the backyard of his parent's home. He hadn't won them all, and he never had a proper strategy- but if you punch someone hard enough they won't want to risk a second time. To frustrate him of course the Spy moved like coiling smoke, his fine shoes squeaking and sliding across the floor as he dodged the punches. The Soldier of course deriding the french man at every opportunity. As soon as the Sniper landed a good punch on the Spy's left cheek he began to retaliate, all of his shots aiming for the body or his kidney it seemed. The spy led him in circles and whittled him down until the hunter's feet dragged like lead in pursuit of the saboteur. The round ended and surprisingly the Scout came to his side. "Hey! uh, just aim for his face, one good hit and he'll probably want to give up and get healed." "Did I ask you to be my second?" the Sniper peered at Scout incredulously. "No...But you're getting dominated out there!" the Scout fussed, a towel over his shoulder. "...I bloody well am not." the Sniper growled and got to his feet for the next round. The Spy closed in on him and he kept his arms close to his body, carefully aiming fast straights at the Spy's head, whiffing the air centimeters from his face and suffering through the body blows that chopped down his movement and hitched his breathing with rolling waves of pain. He saw the Scout miming a sucker punch from his corner and said to hell with it, throwing his fist hard at the Spy's gut and catching him by surprise. His second mimed more instructions that went unheeded. He was on the ropes, time to finish it. The Sniper threw a right at the Spy as he fought to catch his breath and connected, knocking him to the ground. The Spy clutched his face, and just as predicted ask that the Heavy throw in the towel for him. The medic sighed, "Shall I heal that up for you zen, you big baby?" "Non, that won't be necessary." the Spy surprised his comrades and rose to his feet, looking triumphant despite his forfeit. "I'll wear it with honor." by it he meant the fresh bruise ringing his right eye. "Sorry bout that..." the Sniper mumbled, wondering why he got so into the bout. "Do not worry, it was a fine fight. Just need some ice..." the Spy wrapped some ice in a kerchief and held it to his face. "So...Winners and losers bracket?" the Heavy asked "Heavy wins, the end." the team laughed at the Engineer's quick surrender appreciatively, everyone looked exhausted and roughed up save for maybe the Sniper who felt the brunt of the damage internally. "Ice to prevent swelling, you know zee drill..." the Medic sighed and after some staring and deliberation grabbed a beer for himself. "If I have won tournament, I am picking night time film to be watching together." the Heavy moved for the stairs with the migratory herd of classes. "So...What are we watchin'?" the Scout looked at the Sniper before following the Heavy. "Oh, classic Tarvosky from 1979- Stalker. Sniper and Pyro will like it, of this I am sure."
Its been three month since the last update, and I still expect this continue. /obsessive