Hey guys. So I wrote a couple short pieces that I thought I might share. Some are awesome and I'm really proud of them, while some are meh, so whatever. Think I'm gonna write some more. Hope you enjoy. Oh, and Happy New Year TF2chan (and fandom). I'm glad you exist. ________________________________________ Scout was folded over the back of the couch in the rec room when he saw Engineer hurry by, wrapped in a towel. “Yo Engie!†He called, “You off to shower?†Engineer backtracked a little to peer through the doorway at his addressee. “Yeah, I gotta shave,†he replied, running his hand through the couple centimeters of blond growth on the top of his head, “it’s about that time.†“Oh hey wait!†The scout hopped over the back of the sofa and ran out to the Engineer in the hall. “Scout, is this really necessary?†Asked Engie in annoyance. “Yes,†said Scout, rubbing his hands across the top of the man’s head. “Why?†“Because you ARE ABOUT TO SHAVE AND YOU ARE SO FUZZY.†Announced the Scout, absolutely louder than needed. “Engineer is fuzzy?!†Yelled Soldier from the other room. There was the sound of chair legs scraping across the floor and feet stomping towards them and Soldier was running in their direction. “Sol- wha- why do you guys gotta do this?†“IS TRADITION!†Yelled Heavy, coming out of the kitchen. Engineer glared at the Scout as the two larger men gleefully ran their hands across his head. _________________________________________ The Engineer woke up with the worst hangover. Grumbling, he knocked an offending can to the floor and gingerly scratched his balls with his robotic hand, an action he had to practice with great care. It took him a moment to realize that he was stark naked and sprawled out on the couch of the common room, for reasons he could not quite adequately explain. Inwardly reeling, he sat up stiffly, modesty flopping in the wind, to take it his surroundings. A few feet from the couch lay Heavy, face down on the hardwood floor. Engineer reached over and prodded him with his toe. “Heavy,†he half commanded, half mumbled, “Heavy wake up.†His voice was shot and raspier than usual and it hurt a little to speak. Heavy groaned and stirred, sitting up on to his knees, back to the Texan. “What the hell happened to us last night?†asked the Engineer. “Not sure. Am thirsty.†Heavy turned around to face Engineer and Engie almost jumped. At least, as much as his hangover would let him. “Heavy, do you normally wear women’s makeup?†Heavy’s already grim face grew darker. “What question is this. Of course Heavy does not wear makeup. Better question is why Engineer is naked.†“I dunno pardner, but you might want to go wipe your face.†“…What?†“Yer wearin’ lipstick.†With a look of utmost horror, Heavy ran his wrist across his mouth and brought it back with a red smear. “It is coming off?†“A little bit,†lied Engineer. Heavy voiced his displeasure and continued to paw at his face. Engineer rubbed his stubbly temples are stared down at his exposed crotch. “The hell did we do last night…†he grumbled. “Oh no,†said Heavy suddenly, “think I remember.†“Yeah? What?†“Were playing game of dares again.†Engie sighed and gave Heavy a tired look. “Well… that explains a lot,†he admitted, looking over at the Sniper, sleeping on the floor with his arms full of everybody’s shoes. “Terrible game,†said Heavy darkly, “need to stop waking up like this.†“Yer tellin’ me. I’m sure it’s fun at the time, but I can’t remember a god damn thing.†“Excuse me,†called the medic politely from the corner, tied down toe to neck in a chair, “can somebody please untie me? I can’t feel my toes.†________________________________________ “Get up.†Nothing. “Seriously son, ya gotta get up.†Scout did not move from his precarious position on the locker room bench and was either ignoring him or dead asleep. Engineer crossed his arms and looked at the others. Sniper lifted his Akubra and scratched at his fuzzy brown hat hair. Pyro just shrugged. “Any thoughts fellas? Match is about to start and Solly’s gonna blow a gasket if he sees this. Frankly don’t see why we’re lookin’ out fer Scout again, but… that’s how it goes, I guess…†The Pyro made an “I got this†gesture and knelt down to where Scout was lying. “Hudda huh,†Said Pyro, very sincerely, “Hudda hudda huna hudda huh. Mrmph, hudda rhur hudda hur? Hurna hur.†“Clear off Pyro,†grumbled Scout, groggily swatting at the eloquent firebug, “I don’t want none of your sweet talk.†“So you are awake,†announced Engie, as once again Pyro shrugged and rejoined the group. “So what if I am.†“You gotta get up Scout. I dunno why you’re so tired, but do you know what Solly’s gonna do if he find’s ya like this?†“Is he gonna make me pull the stick out of his ass?†“You’d be so lucky, boy. And watch that tongue of yours, it’s gonna get you in trouble.†“Whatever, hardhat.†Engineer put his tongue in his cheek and looked at the clock. They had twenty minutes. That was enough time for Scout to wake up and get ready to fight. Sniper rubbed his chin and Pyro fidgeted with his gloves. As annoying as he was, they were a team, and they needed him to get up and fight. “Alright, think I got it,†Said Sniper finally. He approached Scout cautiously, like a hunter being wary of startling its prey. He took a position by Scout’s ankles, surveyed his quarry, and extended a long fingered hand to tickle Scout’s ribs. Scout’s eyes snapped open faster than any automated system Engie had built. Half rolling, half tumbling off the bench, Scout clambered to his feet and assumed a fighting stance over the bench facing Sniper. Sniper was an advanced hand to hand fighter with many years under his belt, but he had not expected Scout to jump up like he had. Within seconds, Sniper was the one squirming on the floor, laughing as Scout tickled him senseless. “I suppose we aughta help him-†Said Engie stepping forward. Pyro grabbed his sleeve. “Hurr hurr hudda!†“Yeah, you’re right.†Pyro and Engineer stood where they were as the steel door opened and Soldier, followed by others, marched in. “Private Sniper!†Commanded Soldier, “If you would please keep your giggling until after the match!†Sniper, hat and glasses askew, laughing breathlessly, threw the Soldier a salute before Scout mercilessly pulled him back across the floor. _______________________________________ Sniper often called Scout Kookaburra. When asked why he usually cited that back in the bush, the kookaburra was also known as the ‘laughing jackass’, a name that fit quite nicely. This explanation satisfied the other members of the team, who accepted it and asked no more. But that wasn’t the only reason. Scout was only twenty two, and after a life of being the youngest of many brothers, this was his first time truly alone. Sniper, on the other hand, had never had a sibling of his own. What came to pass between the two was downright brotherly. Away in the nest, separate from the rest of the base, stories were told and secrets confided, skills were taught and jokes were told. They were brothers there, staying until the sun went down. But it was huddled in the nest in the rain that the name came out. Brothers are there for each other always, and the Sniper held the Scout while he needed him the most, singing softly out into the wet darkness. “…Laugh, kookaburra, laugh, kookaburra, gay your life must be…†_______________________________________________ Alcohol was not the only thing the Demoman ever drank. Demo felt a little annoyed when his teammates stated this as a half truth half joke because yes, he did have a “bit of a drinking problemâ€. But for every day that was spent in a stumbling stupor, there was a day where he didn’t even touch the bottle. And of course, once a week, he and the Medic sat down for tea. Earl Grey was the usual brew, Demoman’s choice. Medic had not been a huge tea drinker back in Germany, but he enjoyed the moment to sit down and talk with a friend under the guise of a little pseudo-civility. They brewed the tea in a beat up old kettle and sipped out of chipped mugs, hardly the requisites of a proper tea time. It’s the thought that counts. They took their tea with milk and sugar and sometimes Walker’s English shortbread cookies if Demo’s mother had recently sent them over. And they talked. After all, that’s really the point. “-Oh, so, I have recently acquired a new book detailing zhe functions and various disorders of zhe pancreas,†Said the Medic, his eyes gleaming like a child with a new bicycle, “and it has pictures!†“’Ey, that’s fun Doc,†said Demo, biting into a shortbread, “Mail order?†“Old colleague sent it. Says he has no use for it anymore. Given up the black market organ business.†“And that’s all he had fer ya? A book on pancreases?†“Eh… it was something about police monitoring his mail. He said he’d try and send me a nice one on the respiratory system at a later date.†“That’d be a nice addition.†“I know.†They sipped their tea, almost in unison, just as Soldier came loudly meandering into the room. Both men consciously made the choice to stare with particular interest at the table in front of them. This however did not stop the wannabe GI from noticing. “What is this? Are you two Mary Poppinsons sharing a spot of tea?†“…Yes.†“Tea is un-American! I should take your little kettle and dump it off the side of the Mayflower just like Christopher Columbus!†“Soldier-†“I AM STAGING AN INVASION OF THIS TEA PARTY!†Soldier pulled himself out a chair, crossed his arms and sat down heavily. Demo and Medic looked at each other, then at Soldier, then back at each other. Demo shrugged. “D’ya want some?†He asked Soldier. “…Yes,†Soldier replied solemnly from under his helmet. “Then go get a cup, lad. I ain’t your mother.†Soldier stood back up and clomped over to the cabinets where they kept the mugs. Medic leaned over the table. “We did this last week,†he hissed, “he doesn’t like it, remember?†“I know, I think he just wants to be included.†Medic groaned and sat back up as Soldier approached the table with a mug. “Alright!†He announced, “I will now try a cup of your red-coat, Mary Poppins-… fish and chips… big ben-†“Ya ya we got it,†interrupted Medic. “Will ye be takin’ it with milk and sugar?†Asked Demo. “If that is the customary fashion in which one drinks this beverage!†“…You got it, mate,†said the Demoman, resigning himself to his daily dose of crazy, “Milk and two cubes of sugar.†Soldier saluted him as he received his tea. Medic watched this all with indifference, his chin in his hand. Soldier sipped. “I seem to enjoy this more than I did last week!†He reported. “Oh good,†said medic, who didn’t care. “Though coffee, the true American drink, is still far superior! ...Can I have more sugar?†“Here.†“So anyvay,†Said Medic finally, “I did in fact order anozer book on bone fractures that looks quite promising-†“I read a book once!†Interrupted Soldier, “penned by the one and only great Sun-†“Yes. We know. Sun Tsu. You’ve told us about this a million times, Solly,†Said Demo, “Now Medic and I are going t’ talk about some other books. Ye can join in if you have something relevant to say, otherwise sit quiet, and y’can talk when we’re done. Okay? …So bone fractures, doc?†For once in his life, Soldier sat quietly with a cup of tea in his hands while the other men spoke. ______________________ Holy jeebus, somebody take a wild guess at who my favorite character is. I just realized that this is not a hard question. Oh well. Anyway, some of these and some to come have been directly or indirectly influenced by other things I have seen or read here or tumblr, so... that's what's up with that. Cheers then.
These are adorable. Simply adorable. Probably the first two are my favourites, mostly because of how silly they are. The image of Sniper cradling shoes in his sleep is gold.
Well thank you kindly Lightspeed, I'm glad you enjoyed them. Here's two more. ____________________________ The Engineer had a strange relationship with cigarettes. He had been a smoker himself, that is until a colleague at the university slipped a diseased lung into his lunch. Vomiting and fist-fighting ensued. Still, this didn’t stop him from getting the occasional craving, particularly during times of great stress. This found the Engineer knocking on the Spy’s door at eleven in the evening one Tuesday night. He leaned heavily on the doorframe and wondered if the Frenchman was asleep. It wouldn’t be unlikely. Finally the door opened a crack, the chain was unlatched, and the door swung open all the way. The Spy appeared tie-less, vest-less, and as one would occasionally see him, mask-less. In his room, which was beautifully decorated with elegant white curtains and handsome furniture, the lamp was on at the table by his armchair, where a book had been placed face down. “Engineer.†“Evenin’ Spy. Sorry to bother ya,†Said Engie, “But I was really hopin’ I could bum a cigarette.†Spy quickly looked over the Engineer. He was missing his hat, and his goggles hung around his neck. He had dark circles under his eyes and his shirt was comically half tucked into his work pants. While all of this was actually quite common for the Engineer, he seemed particularly tired. Spy darted out of sight for a second before returning with his cigarette case and a lighter. He handed one to Engineer and lit it for him. Engineer took a huge drag and exhaled, staring through Spy’s left ankle. “Come inside,†Said Spy. The Engineer nodded slightly and followed him in. Spy closed the door. “Sitâ€. Engineer did as he was told, taking a place at a table by the window. Spy poured out two glasses of brandy and handed one to the Engineer before sitting himself. They sat in silence for a moment as Spy sipped and Engineer simply thumbed his glass. “When is the last time that you ‘ave slept?†“Three days ago.†“Go to sleep, Engineer.†The Engineer took another drag of his cigarette and put his head in his hand. “Can’t.†“Is this over what I think it is over?†“…Yeah.†“Oh please! You are blowing this all entirely out of proportion!†“Ah am not! …My team needs me and I am unable to perform.†The Spy sighed and looked over at his friend with resignation. “You are meeting every goal set for you better than anyone could ask for. It is your own standards you are not living up to.†He adjusted his shirt sleeves as he stood up from the table. “Excuse me for one second, Engineer. And please- drink. It will help you relax.†The Engineer looked down at his glass of brandy on the table and took a resigned gulp as Spy walked towards the bathroom and shut the door. Most of the personal rooms came equipped with a small, functional wash room- no shower, but there was a toilet and a sink and a mirror. And behind the mirror, a small cabinet as one might store medication in. And this is what the Spy did. Removing a small bottle from the cabinet, he dumped a small pill into his hand, which he tucked into his pocket. It was a sleeping pill, prescribed to him for occasional insomnia, and though he was running low, the Engineer was going to sleep tonight whether he liked it or not. However upon exiting the bathroom, he found the man passed out on the table, the cigarette still lit in his hand. The brandy had done him in. The Spy extinguished the cigarette, removed his goggles and his shoes, and with a little bit of exertion, managed to drag him to the bed. After a few more pages of his book, Spy settled down in the armchair for the night. ________________________________________________ Engineer had the thermostat in his workshop, which pissed the rest of the team off. Because when he got into his projects, he often forgot completely about food, sleep and the temperature. Meanwhile the rest of the team could not forget that it was January, bundled up giant sweaters and blankets, huddled on the sofa around the little rabbit eared tv. Pyro was the worst of all, rolling himself into giant blanket burritos and not moving for hours. Until he decided that he’d had it, and even if Engie didn’t notice the temperature himself, he was going to have to monitor it and keep it up for everybody else. He knocked on the texan’s door in such a way that he thought to be “polite, but forceful†and waited. After doing this several times to no avail, (five to be exact) he kicked down the door action hero style and stomped in. He found the lower half of the man’s torso sticking out from under a large machine he was working on, toolbox by his ankles. “HURNURHURR!†Pyro screamed at the man’s boots, then he moved closer, gently kicked them and did it again. Engie stopped whatever it was he was doing under the big machine and responded. “Pyro…? Whatcha want boy?†“Hurr hur dur gurr durn hurr!†“…If you guys want the heat up, you know you can come down here and do it-†“NUR! Wur turrud hur dur hurr.†“Look Pyro, I’m busy-†“Cumh er herr, Hurnurhurr.†Engineer did as he was asked, and slid out from under the machine. Pyro had tied bundles of sticks and kindling over his body and was holding a lit flame dangerously close to one of them. He was a walking bonfire waiting to happen. “Er wurr dur er.†“Whoah, okay, steady Pyro-†“Er wurr dur er.†“If you do that you’re gonna set the whole base on fire!†“HURR HUR DUR GURR DURN HURR!!†“Okay! Okay!†Said Engineer, rushing over to the thermostat, which he immediately cranked up. “Urn curr er urr.†“I’ll make sure it doesn’t dip below 70. Happy?†“Yurs.†“Good.†“Mur wurr hur ers durn.†Like a cowboy heading into the setting sun, Pyro meandered off towards the back door out of Engineer’s workshop. The Texan shook his head in disbelief, and groaned when the rest of the team began to clap from the hallway. Once outside, Pyro set himself on fire anyway. _____________________________________ That's it for now. Might do more if I get some free time, but at the moment who knows when that'll be.
Awesome update, I really liked it!
Some very nice short stories you've got here, I certainly had a good couple of laughs throughout. Looking forward to more of these little tidbits of base life!
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Aw thanks guys! I'm so glad you liked them! I'm a bit busy with a senior project right now, but I would like to write some more in the future.
Oh man, these are just incredible. I love the brotherly bonding between all of them. It's nice seeing the mercs interacting casually with one another, especially with pairs we don't see often. Pyro's bit at the end was just great.
Hey guys, I wrote another one. Just a heads up, this one turned out a lot squishier than I originally intended, so if things that are all fuzzy make you want to punch somebody in the face (understandable), you may want to sit this one out. ________________________________________________________ There were two things that the Heavy Weapons Guy loved more than anything else in the world. They were his machine gun, Sasha, and- okay wait sorry, make that three things he loved more than anything else in the world. They were his machine gun, Sasha, a nice glass of scotch (he’s not a stereotype, thank you) and his books. After the matches, after cleaning his gun and eating with the other men, the Heavy could usually be found hidden away in his room. And though one might assume that a smaller bed for a mini-gun would be the most striking feature of a room, it was hard to miss all the books. They were everywhere. They consumed the shelves and were stacked high on any flat surface that wasn’t the ground. Many were the Russian classics, Tolstoy, Gogol and Dostoevsky, printed in familiar Cyrillic characters, but just as many were in English, a far easier commodity to acquire in this foreign land. As the night marched onwards, the Heavy would retire to his room, sit down at his desk, click on the lamp, put on his comically small reading glasses, flip open whatever he was working through at the time, and float away… Except tonight. The intercom by his door buzzed loudly and he pushed backwards out of his desk to answer. “Yes?†He asked, giant hand eclipsing the whole array as he held down the button to respond. “’Ey Heavy, it’s Dem. Was wonderin’ if ya could come on down here to the workshop. Engineer’s got ‘imself in a wee bit of a mince and we could use yer help. “What is problem?†“Ah, one of his projects ‘as fallen on him again, the cannie bastard. It’s a big one, too.†“Ah do not need any help!†The stubborn Texan could be heard yelling in the distance, “s’all a matter of leverage!†“Oh hush!†Demoman could be heard yelling back, “You need help! You won’t even tell me how long y’been under there, fannybawz!†Heavy sighed and pushed the button to talk. “I will be right there.†He took off his glasses and placed them on the open book, rushing off to rescue the overzealous southerner from whatever trouble he had gotten himself into this time. He didn’t even bother to close the door, which was perhaps a bit of a mistake, as prying eyes have a tendency to wander in, and this time prying eyes came in the form of the Pyro. Pyro was looking for Scout’s tags. Scout claimed that they had just fallen off his chest, and while he furiously scampered around the wasteland outside, Pyro was doing his pal a favor by scouring the halls of the base. He didn’t mind, he didn’t really have anything else to do today. However, he did not expect Heavy’s door to be open like it was. Pyro had never seen the inside of the Heavy’s room, and what’s more, he had never seen so many books. He stood in the doorway in awe, just looking at the stacks and stacks of books inside. He wanted to go in, but this was Heavy’s personal space and- well who would it hurt if he went in for just a second? He’d be out in a flash, he just wanted to look. Timidly he stepped through the threshold and turned his attention to the big shelf by the doorway. A gloved hand came up and gently prodded a leather bound specimen with gold lettering embossed down the spine. He couldn’t read it, they were strange letters. Of course he couldn’t read the letters he saw all over the base either. In opposition to all higher judgment, he carefully took the book down and let it fall open in his hands. Nothing he saw in the pages made any sense to him, but curiosity kept him flipping through the delicate paper. Such pretty letters, the occasional pen-ink drawing, he almost forgot where he was until a large figure grabbed him by the scruff of the neck in one hand, the book in the other. “Not for you,†said Heavy darkly, setting the book down on his bed and turning the smaller man so they could see each other face to face, “books are not for burning!†Pyro squealed and coughed in surprise as he was lifted off the ground by the larger man’s fists. “Wursn’t gurng t’ burn!†He squeaked, his rubber gloved hands clinging to Heavy’s wrists. “Then what are you doing in Heavy’s room?†“Jus’ wurnt’d t’ see!†“What, you regularly break into private rooms ‘just wanting to see’? It is hobby of yours, defiling personal space?†“Wurnt’d t’ see tuh burks…†Heavy gave the little mouthbreather a frustrated look, sighed, and set him back down on his feet. “If you would like to borrow books, please ask. Do not just walk in. Makes Heavy very uncomfortable.†Pyro fidgeted with his hands. “…Curn’t rud.†“…What?†“Er curn’t rud.†“…How is this possible??†Asked Heavy, a little astounded. Sure, they didn’t know much about this man, but one could generally assume that another could at least read. However, upon reflection, this revelation did make a little bit of sense… Pyro shrugged and scratched at the floor with his toe, his tinted eye holes gazing down at the floor in what Heavy assumed was shame. “You cannot read- at all?†Pyro shook his head. “…Would you like to?†Pyro nodded, still refusing to meet his gaze. “Then I will teach you.†At this, Pyro’s head came back up in surprise. “…Rully?†“Yes really. Come back tomorrow after dinner. May not be easy, but I will teach you to read.†At this, the mumbling menace sprang forward, ambushing the Heavy with a giant hug. Heavy mumbled something aloof in Russian, but secretly, it was hard not to feel happy for the strange young man. He smiled as Pyro went off down the hallway whistling, and turned back to his evening routine. He put on his glasses, clicked on the lamp, and began reading into the long hours of the night, content. After all, there were four things that the Heavy Weapons Guy loved more than anything else in the world.
Please keep going, I love this! my favorite part is soldier at the little tea party, it was adorable
It was a normal mid-morning in the mess hall when one of the pipes burst in the ceiling. However nobody paid much attention to this minor event until the Medic ran in screaming. “OUT! EVERYBODY GET OUT!†He shouted from under the respirator strapped to his face, “ZHE PIPES HAVE BURST!†“Yeah… so?†asked Scout, halfway through a bowl of oatmeal. “IT IS A GASPIPE, DUMMKOPF! SCHNELL!†“Aw hell,†cussed the Engineer, throwing down his napkin as he joined the scuffle to leave the room. There was a great scraping of chairs and clattering of utensils being dropped on dishes and many feet trying to fit through a single door. Only two men stayed where they were. “It’s just a boiler pipe lads,†called the Demoman over his morning paper, “The ol’ bampot is just fookin’ with ya.†“Indeed,†said the Spy, sitting next to him, “Medic needs to cut it with this silly nonsense.†“Yer tellin’ me. He’s the reason I keep my doors locked at night. Lest I wake up with him standing over me, breathing.†Spy voiced his consent and munched on his bagel.
I love immature Medic and I love this!