Königin Responding to Post #48 in the request thread (with some inspiration from Olga Mannlova): Gazing out at the crowd from behind the curtain, Medic's heart began racing. He had been performing for some time now, and no one at headquarters knew. He doubted they really cared. After all, as long as he didn't fraternize with the enemy, he was golden. But no one on the team knew. Not until now. Turning to look down at the outfit he wore--a pair of black and white diamond-patterned pants and a black greaser jacket--Medic gulped nervously. "Stage fright, Friedrich?" Upon hearing his stage name, Medic turned to look at Tora, a fellow performer. Clad in brightly colored bell bottoms and a filmy shirt that reminded Medic of a Gypsy performer, Tora had been impersonating Janis Joplin for three years, and doing an excellent job of it too. She wasn't really Medic's type, though. "Vell, actually, a few of mein friends are here," he replied. "Zey don't know about zis, and...vell..." "Hey, relax, man," the Japanese woman said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Don't let it get in your way. They don't like it, they can kiss your sexy German ass." "Danke, Tora." Medic smiled. "But as I've told you, you're not my type." He looked out at the audience again, and sighed. "Vell, here goes." -------------- "So, lemme see if I got this straight." Scout took a sip from his glass of ginger ale. "This place has a buncha guys who dress up as famous singers, and they perform songs by those singers?" "Ye got it, lad," confirmed Demo. "The last time Ah was here, Ah saw a lad impersonate Jimi Hendrix. Wasn't too bad, neither." "Hey," Sniper interrupted, gesturing to the stage. "Looks loike one of 'em's on." "And now, ladies and gentlemen," proclaimed the MC. "May I present the one, the only, FRIEDRICH VON QUECKSILBER!" Upon seeing Medic walk out on stage dressed  like Freddie Mercury, seven-and-a-half pairs of eyes went wide with disbelief. "Holy... "Is that--?" "What...the...fuck?" -------------- Medic was all too aware of his teammates' collective stares. He didn't blame them in the least--he looked very un-Medic like. Still, he wasn't about to back out. Might as well take it with dignity. Clearing his throat, he snapped his fingers twice--the cue for the music to play. As it did, Medic held his head high, and began to sing. "Empty spaces - vat are ve living for Abandoned places - I guess ve know ze score On and on, does anybody know vat ve are looking for... Anozzer hero, anozzer mindless crime Behind ze curtain, in ze pantomime Hold ze line, does anybody vant to take it anymore Ze show must go on, Ze show must go on Inside mein heart is breaking My make-up may be flaking But my smile still stays on." Fitting, really, Medic thought to himself, a smirk crossing his face. Tora was right. He enjoyed this, even if he didn't seem the type to, and he'd be damned if he let the others' opinions get him down. It wouldn't get him fired, after all. "Vatever happens, I'll leave it all to chance Anozzer heartache, anozzer failed romance On and on, does anybody know vat ve are living for? I guess I'm learning, I must be varmer now I'll soon be turning, round ze corner now Outside ze dawn is breaking But inside in ze dark I'm aching to be free Ze show must go on, Ze show must go on Inside mein heart is breaking My make-up may be flaking But my smile still stays on." At this point, Medic was oblivious to the awestruck looks given by his team. His mind was focused solely on the music. It was times like this--times when he allowed the mask to fall away-- that he felt alive. Not in the same way as when he was doing an experiment or fighting alongside his comrades, but singing was still something he loved. "My soul is painted like ze vings of butterflies Fairytales of yesterday vill grow but never die I can fly - mein freunds Ze show must go on Ze show must go on I'll face it vith a grin I'm never giving in On - vith ze show - I'll top ze bill, I'll overkill I have to find ze vill to carry on On vith ze - On vith ze show - Ze show must go on..." As Medic finished, the audience broke into vigorous applause, including--to the German's delight--his team. He bowed, before passing the microphone back to the MC and stepping down to join the others. -------------- "Ah gotta admit, Doc," said Engineer, watching a rendition of 'Take Me Home, Country Roads,' "Ah never took ya for a Queen fan." "Got that right, Truckie," agreed Sniper. "It ain't Mozart, that's for sure." "Funny zing about Mozart," Medic said, leaning in closer. "He vonce wrote a composition entitled 'Leck mich im Arsch.' Spy, being the only other team member who spoke German, made a face suggesting he was trying not to laugh. At the looks of confusion the others gave him, he translated. "Basically, it mean 'Kiss My Arse.'" "WHAT?!" Soldier, along with everyone else, burst out laughing. "Mozart wrote that?" "Is Doktor kidding?" "Astonishingly, nein, I am not kidding." "Learn somethin' new everyday, huh?" Scout managed to get out, pounding the table. "Aye, lad," chuckled Demo. "Ye certainly do."
My two cents: 1) Don't quote the all of the verses of the song, just the ones that you feel fit the mood of the scene the best. 2) Describe how the music sounds so that someone not familiar with the artist or the genre can still have some idea of what it's like without running over to Google. Also, on describing Medic's clothes: Turning to look down at the outfit he wore--a pair of black and white diamond-patterned pants and a black greaser jacket--Medic gulped nervously. I think the actual description should go in the third person portion, when the team sees him, or you should start "earlier" in the scene, when he's getting dressed, and have him mentally go over what he's about to wear there.
Here's a picture of what Medic's supposed to be wearing: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Freddie_Mercury_performing_in_New_Haven,_CT,_November_1978.jpg
Summary: A brief tribute to the victims of the Boston bombing. "It just ain't rahght, fellas. It was supposed to just be a race, and look what happened." Engineer sighed. "What those monsters did...it's just plain unthinkable that anybody would do somethin' lahke that. "Scout feels ze same way, Laborer," said Spy, taking a drag from his cigarette. "True, neither Scout's mother nor any of his brothers were harmed, but ze boy is quite upset." And indeed, the runner was. At that very moment, he was beating the stuffing out of Heavy's punching bag, having already turned Soldier's cardboard troops into Swiss cheese with his scattergun. "Good thing we're on ceasefire, huh?" Engineer asked. "Why do you say zat?" "'Cause it looks lahke the RED Spah wants a chat with Scout."
Witch Fortress 2 Summary: A normal morning with Reliable Enchantments and Divination. (Alternate Universe) "You know," Medic mused aloud. "If I did not know better, I vould say zat Frau Rowling vas a vitch herself. After all, her depiction of magical society is very similar to vat zings are like in England." "Really?" asked Scout through a mouthful of pancake. Catching a glare from Soldier, who was reading the paper, she swallowed. "Sorry. So, things are like dat 'cross the pond?" "Ja, alzough Herr Fudge vould never have gotten avay vith a cover-up in real life. It vould have ended vorse zan Vatergate, vouldn't you agree, Soldier?" "Damn right," Soldier answered. "If Nixon was a REAL man, he would have let himself be thrown out, instead of resignin' like a coward. Serves him right either way." "How does Doktor know what English witches are like?" asked Heavy, in the midst of preparing one of her sandwiches for the day's match. "My family moved to England after Stuttgart vas bombed during ze var," explained Medic. "Und it vas very fortunate zat ve did. Under ze Nazis, vitches eizzer swore loyalty to ze party or vere put in a camp. I manifested only a veek after our departure." "Was difficult in Russia, too." Heavy nodded, waving a hand at the fridge. The door opened, and a package of cheese slices flew out and onto the counter. Opening the package, Heavy continued. "If you were witch, and you did not work for government, you were sent to gulag. I learn much from other witches there." "Man," said Scout. "You girls had it tough, didn't ya?" "What about you, kid?" Scout chuckled. "Heh, you would not believe how many times my sistas and I pranked the gangs in our neighbahood. I rememba one time, we stole the Mullens' motorcycles, enchanted 'em to make 'em fly, and went for a ride." Pausing to chew a particularly syrupy piece of pancake, Scout continued. "Valerie ended up crashin' into a tree, and the bike went inta the river. Ma was not happy." Just then, Demo stumbled in, clearly hung over, and sporting a large swelling on the side of her neck. At the sight of this, Medic sighed, shaking her head. "Demo, I zought I told you to leave ze pixie hive alone. You know zey sting you if you try to svat zem." "And good mornin' to ye too." Demo plopped down into a chair next to Soldier. "Ye know, Ah had a strange dream last night. We were a bunch o' mundie lads, and so were the BLU coven. We fought with guns an th' like, instead o' spells, and we had this thing called Respawn, which kept bringin' us back when we got killed." "Sounds razzer silly," Medic commented. A coo caught her attention, and she turned to see Archimedes carrying a tube of herbal salve in his beak. "Ah, danke, Archimedes." "I gotta agree with Medic," said Scout. "Us, mundies? And guys? Get outta heah." Heavy simply shrugged, putting her sandwiches into her side pouch. "We would still beat BLUs, da?" "Aye." Demo nodded. "And ah know 'twas a dream. Pretty lifelike, though." Perching on Medic's shoulder, Archimedes cooed.
Night Flight This is his time. None of the others on his team knew. Certainly no one at BLU did---if they did, they'd be experimenting on him right now. He hovered over the RED base, musing to himself. How he longed to use his gift in battle---swooping down like a warrior angel to smite the enemy, killing the RED Soldier, Demo, or Scout when they were in mid-jump, taunting their Sniper. But no, it had to stay a secret. At least he could use it to prank the REDs. He chuckled softly, recalling how the RED Heavy had thrown a fit when his ushanka had somehow found its way onto the base's roof, not to mention how the RED Spy's cigarettes ended up in the RED Sniper's loft. The Frenchman and Australian had spent the day arguing, never imagining that one of their enemies was responsible. Perhaps one day, he'd show his team. One day, he'd make them believe a man could fly. (I leave the identity of the character up to you.)
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@7: Well, let's say that witches (and warlocks) have longer lifespans than ordinary humans I'm glad you like my work.
Musik in der Nacht "Only vun zhing keeps me from you. A mistake I made so long ago..." Medic paused, glancing at the words he'd written, before erasing the 'o' at the end of 'so,' and rewriting it. "Vun choice so wrong, it left me bound, I vouldn't have if only I'd known." Yes, that seemed good. He hadn't revealed the reason for his marriage, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to. All he'd said was that it was a mistake. Now vhat? Ah, I have it! "Scout, vhat vas ze name of Superman's girlfriend?" "Lois Lane," Scout called back. "Why?" "Somezhing I'm vorking on." Which was true, technically. Scout didn't need to know that Medic was writing a love song, never mind who it was for. "I call myself a Superman, So vould you be Lois Lane?" Chuckling at the resulting mental image, Medic tapped his pencil on the desk. What comes next?