I've been a bit wary of posting here for the longest time, but I'm getting tired of waiting for opinions on other websites. So I figure any opinion, no matter how harsh, is better than none. Enjoy! This chapter contains mild sexism. Chapter One: The cab was hot and uncomfortable at best. An old crooner sang about lost love, the noise staticky through rusted speakers. Two people sat; a lanky male with a baseball cap and a bat at his hip and a female in tan pants, her own hat - a wide-brimmed and heavily decorated akubra - pulled down over her eyes. The train lurched and the male covered his mouth. "Oh gawd. I think I'ma lose muh lunch," he grumbled, shifting in his seat. He looked around for something to hold on to in case the train decided to shake like that again. "How you holdin' up, toots?" The female lifted one arm slightly from it's position, crossed over her chest, to raise the brim of her hat with her thumb. She raised a dark eyebrow at the green-looking young man. "I am fine. You look ill," she said, speaking slowly. She tried to keep her accent from her voice. "Heh," he chuckled, stopping and frantically searching for something to hold on to once more as the train shook. He clutched the sorry excuse for a cushion under him. "Gawd, I hate trains," he muttered. "You look fine," he said, sizing the girl up. "What's yer secret, eh?" She shrugged and let the hat fall down over her eyes again, returning her arms to the crossed position. She had planned on spending the train ride asleep, but the talkative male to her right seemed intent on not letting that happen. He stared at her quizzically. Her lips pulled into a frown as he continued to stare and fidget. "Shrimp and potatoes," she said sarcastically. "Whut?" he asked, letting his jaw hang open slightly. The female sighed and pushed her hat up again. Ivy colored eyes studied the male harshly and he almost shrunk away from her gaze. She thought it possible that the boy could be a decade her junior and she did not want to make small talk with the runt. When blue eyes blinked cutely at her, she scoffed and looked away, deciding to watch light pass by the poorly painted over windows. "It was sarcasm," she said plainly. "You got an accent. Where ya from?" he asked, shifting his backpack at his side. "You 'ave one too," the female stated. As he opened his mouth to speak, she interrupted; "But where does it look like I'm from?" "Well, uh, yer clothes say yer an Aussie, but yer accent don't soun' quite right... I mean, I always thought you people were all 'croikey!' an' 'g'day mate!'," he mimicked terribly. He looked at the female and found her glaring at him. He then realized how racist he had sounded. "I didn' mean 'you people' like, well, shit." He sighed and studied his kicking feet. They reached the floor comfortably, but he bounced his heels to help ease the awkward tension he'd created. "You are from New York?" she asked. "Close 'nuff,†he said, pretending he wasn’t insulted. “Massachusetts. Boston. Go Sox," he added a slight cheer and cast a shy glance in her direction. "Mm. Northern Europe," she said cooly, though her smirk didn't fade. "That's real specific," the boy said, trying his hand at sarcasm. A silence passed between the two, the female smirking over her minor victory in shutting the chatty boy up as she crossed her legs. The male played with the wrappings on his hands until he thought of another question. "Ya like baseball?" "No." He flinched at how quick her response was. He leaned an elbow heavily on one knee. "So whaddya do?" he asked. "I kill things," she said, still smirking. "Well no shit?" he asked and then scoffed. "I mean how...?" The female merely pointed up. The boy's eyes followed her gesture up to a rusted storage rack. On it sat the most well-maintained sniper rifle he'd ever laid eyes on. He whistled at the sleek weapon. "Awf'ly big gun for such a little gurl," he said, smirking. "I'm probably taller than you, shrimp," she deadpanned. He stiffened and mentally cursed. "And you?" she asked, wiggling the toes of one foot impatiently. "I run. 'N I hurt people. Wit' dis!" He proudly brandished his baseball bat. His cheerful expression soured when she laughed. "I heard'a bringin' a knife to a gun fight, but that's... ridiculous!" "Man, fine! See if I save yer ass!" He was pouting and it only made the female laugh more. It wasn't long before the train slowed to a halt. To the youth, it felt more like the world has suddenly stopped moving around him and he kept going, falling off his seat. The female held her stomach with laughter. One grumbling male and one chuckling female were ushered off the train after gathering their things. They were met by a man in a red jacket and an almost comedically oversized helmet. "Fall in line, maggots!" he roared. The boy flinched and the woman raised a delicate eyebrow. Moments later they were standing side by side in front of the man with a touch of volume control issues. "Now here at- what the? They're sending me girls now?" He even seemed to roar when talking to himself. Her glare didn't seem to do anything to the helmeted man so she adjusted the strap of her rifle over her shoulder and waited for him to continue. "The battlefield is no place for a woman!" he shouted. She rolled her eyes. "Don't roll your eyes at me, maggot! I am in charge here, understood?" "Yeah, sure," the young man said. "Can we go now?" "You will call me Soldier," the coated man instructed. "I will call you maggot and-" he paused for a moment to consider his words "-magette!" He seemed proud of himself. "Bully!" the female whispered sarcastically. "The others will most likely call you by your titles, Scout and Sniper," Soldier said, his arms behind his back. "But here-" "Look, pops," the hatted male started in. "I'm a merc, not on'a yer in-fun-tree or whateva, so just show me where I can store my shit, okay?" "Confident," Soldier said, lowering his voice and nodding. "But stupid!" he shouted, whacking the boy's backside with a riding crop. The boy yelped and protested his treatment loudly. All the way to their quarters - including the ride from the train station in a nondescript van, which was just as hot as the train - they were lectured about the rules. They were informed of "how things work around here" as Soldier put it. Including, but not limited to; the respawn system, when supplies came, and how to order them. It was after sunset by the time the brunette female was shown her room and when she was, she slipped in and locked the door behind her, stopping Soldier mid-sentence. When the shouts and loud footfalls left the area, she set about unpacking her things. Once satisfied, she considered stepping to the kitchen to sample the local cuisine. Gently pushing her rifle under her bed, she took to the hall and sought out the kitchen. "Oi, whasat 'ere? A lass in our kitchen? Did they send oos a cook or 'ave we goot a new docta?" said a tall, dark-skinned man with an eye patch. The other people at the table turned to look. The Sniper glared, dark pink lips turning down in a frown as four stares looked at her expectantly. Her left eye twitched a bit. She opened her mouth to throw a mean retort at the man, but snapped it closed when a low, melodic chuckle sounded behind her. "Goodness, if we would be so lucky, uh?" said an older, blonde gentleman in a lab coat as he approached. His sideburns were graying and thin, oval frames perched on a sharp nose. "She is... our new Sniper, I presume?" He put his bare hand on her shoulder and she nodded before shrugging off his hand. He raised a brow, accentuating his wrinkles before chuckling. "I am the doctor around he'a. Most call me Medic. V-what shall I call you?" he asked, flinching at the slip of his accent. "The Sniper," she said. "Very well," the blonde doctor said, turning to the staring men at the table. "Allow me to introduce you. This is Engineer," the Medic gestured to a man in a hardhat, who waved and nodded slightly in response. "This is Heavy," he gestured to a rather large man. "Welcome, leetle Sniper. I am Heavy weapons guy," he said, giving her a goofy smile. "Zat," the Medic said, turning Sniper's attention to a man in a suit, sitting a little distance away from the others, a cigarette in hand, "is our Spy." "Oui, it ees a pleasure to meet such a... beautiful and dangerous woman," the masked man stood up and paced over to them, extending his hand to the female. She glared at it and then looked up at him. A grin spread across her lips. She spit in her hand and took the Spy's, shaking it firmly. Her expression grew happier at the horrified look on the masked man's face. The other men at the table laughed and even the Medic at her side chuckled. "Now that's a real handshake!" Engineer cooed. "Yes, she is manly leetle Sniper!" Heavy put in. Spy took his hand back and wiped it on his pants before stuffing it in his pocket. "I must... bid you adieu, for it is late." And with that, made his hasty retreat to a chorus of laughter. "Ahm Demoman, lassie. Ahm sorreh for insultin' ye earlia. Y'just don't see many women who can han'le a gun," he extended his hand which held a bottle. "Am ey forgiven?" he asked as Engineer got up to tend to the food he was working on. "This time," Sniper said, sliding into the Engineer's prewarmed seat. "What's for dinner?" "Beef stew, tonight," Engineer said. He whistled a tune as he stirred the pot. "There is one more, assuming you talked to the Scout on the way here," the Medic trailed off as the girl looked from the stove to him. "Ah yes, don't be alarmed if you see a young man in a strange suit and gas mask. Is only our resident Pyromaniac. He will not hurt you." Nervous chuckles arose from the table. "Do no mind them. If you are nice, Pyro is nice." "'Nice' my ass," came a grumble. Medic rolled his eyes. "You ver- were shown where the medbay is, yes?" She nodded in response. "Good, zen-" he stopped and sighed. He was having a hard time with his words today. "I will need to give you a physical and fit you with a tracking device so I can find you on the field when you need me... But that can be taken care of en ze morning. Enjoy your night and it v-was a pleasure meeting you." He nodded and turned to accept a bowl of stew from Engineer. He nodded to the man and stalked off. There was a short period of silence as Engineer passed out bowls of beef stew to everyone and placed a plate of oven warmed buns in the middle of the table. The southerner pulled Spy's chair back to the table and sat in it. He looked at the female who watched awkwardly as the others ate. Demoman even poured a bit of Scrumpy in the mixture and stirred it up. Noticing the petite Sniper's funny look, he explained; "Gives oot a bit more flavor. 'E tends ta make stews a bit bland." "It's not my fault the alcohol has damaged your taste buds, bud." "Well it's me turn ta cook temara and I'll show ye a real man's dish!" They playfully hassled each other and the new Sniper hesitantly took a bit of the stew. "Not bad," she said under her breath. ... Nights at the BLU base were usually quiet. The occasional clang or clatter would sound from Medic’s lab or loud snoring from Heavy would break the almost tangible silence. Though, for a few members of the squad, sleep was elusive. The Sniper, for one, would often sit in the kitchen by oil lamp light, the overhead turned off as to not disturb the others. Hat and shades placed neatly on the table beside his hands that would hold a warm cup of tea. Sometimes the team’s demolitions expert – a blonde woman in her late thirties – would join him, her unruly curls pulled back in a low, sloppy, tangled ponytail. The woman was missing two and a half of her front bottom teeth; the half tooth that remained was sickly gray color due to improper care of the broken bit. But she provided pleasant conversation in a low, quiet tone, suppressing her mixed accents. He could never pinpoint where the accentuated a's came from and his raising deemed it inappropriate to ask such personal questions of a lady, even though she didn’t much act like one. “RED ‘as new recruits,†the Australian spoke softly as the female prepared coffee on the stove. “I heard, yah,†she spoke quietly. “I heard Soldier talking about it earlier.†Her words were slow and drawn out. It made her sound slow-witted, but the sharpshooter knew better. He assumed she was ashamed of her mixed heritage and wanted to hide it. “He was ranting about how women do not belong on the battlefield. Except miss Pauling, he said. That is, until I walked in," a short pause. "I think he loves her.†Sniper smiled over the rim of his cup at the thought of the boisterous man falling silent when the female made her presence known. Perhaps he even blushed a little. That would be just dandy for the Aussie. It was their little secret that Demoman – she insisted that the “wo†was unnecessary – drank her coffee with sugar. She always drank it black in front of the others. He never understood why, even after she explained. She claimed that sweet things were feminine and she did not want to be seen as such. That pattern made no sense to Sniper. He drank his tea with honey and if coffee was more convenient, as it often was, he loaded it with sugar. He did not think of himself as feminine, despite his love of sweet things. “I envy you tomorrow,†she said, taking a seat next to the Sniper. “Ah yeah? Why’s that?†he asked. “You get a balcony seat to view the chaos. You remember how it was when I first showed up, do you not?†She grinned before taking a sip of the dark liquid. “’Eah,†he responded and chuckled softly. “They weren’t sure what to make of you.†“A bunch of bumbling oafs. Our side, too. Zhey did not think I could handle myself on the field. So many hesitations. I did not learn what the hell it was to respawn for three days,†she said with a dark chuckle. “If yer still getting’ sick ova respawn’n you should see th’ doc,†he looked mildly concerned. She grunted in response and glared at him half-heartedly. “Nngh,†she grunted. Not a moment later the soft sounds of bare feet padding on the floor met their ears as another member of the insomnia club joined them. Demoman lit a cigarette from the open flame of the lamp, the cyclone having been broken and tossed long ago. A mop of brown hair appeared around the corner, dark grey shades reflecting the lamp light as the young pyromaniac gazed at the open flame restlessly. He wore only a white t-shirt and blue knee-length shorts. White scars and burn marks littered his arms, a few spattered on his neck that the loose shirt revealed. After a moment, he took off his shades and threw them on the table. He poured himself a mug of coffee and sat across from the other two. He grunted a meeting. “’Ello,†Sniper said softly. “It’s rare to see you so,†he paused to consider his words, “casually dressed.†“Couldn’t sleep,†came the simple reply. “Didn’t feel like getting dressed.†The young man shrugged and looked back to the flame, squinting a bit. “Soldier will be up in two hours,†Demoman threw out. Pyro rolled his eyes. “New rivals,†Sniper said. “One’s a bird,†he said with a hopeful inflection. He wanted to draw the quiet male into speaking more. "A bird?" Pyro asked. "A girl," Sniper's response. “That’s nice,†he said though his tone said he didn’t care. He stopped to think about it for a moment. “Actually, that could be good. Women generally have more hair, which is very flammable.†Sniper let a chuckle pass his lips. That wasn’t the type of conversation he’d hoped to draw the boy into. He took the cigarette when the blonde handed it to him and took a long drag. The Pyro watched the tip glow before looking elsewhere. The three sat in a somewhat comfortable silence, enjoying their respective beverages as Sniper and Demoman passed the fag back and forth. Two hours passed in relative silence. Four more butts joined the first one in the ash tray and Demoman made a new pot of coffee. As predicted, Soldier was the first to join them in the kitchen with a greeting of “Good morning, boys!â€. He poured himself some coffee and leaned against the counter. He was dressed pristinely and standing tall. It was a sore irritation to the three sitting at the table. Pyro had his shades back on. Even so, he was squinting. The team’s Scout; a cute blonde with freckles – hurried into the room, skidding to a stop in front of the refrigerator. He wrenched the door open and grabbed a can of soda. He popped the tab and took a long swig of the beverage. A bracelet with large, wooden beads rattled against the can. “Ahh!†The boy sounded refreshed. “Good mo’nin!†he said to no one in particular. The boy chugged the rest of the can and crushed it between his hands. He threw it at Soldier and it bounced off of the older man’s helmet as he hurried outside for his morning run. Soldier grumbled. Their Engineer was next to enter the room and thanked the female for the coffee, pouring himself a cup. After a few sips of the caffeinated jump-start, he started preparing his own breakfast. Sniper excused himself and Pyro followed suit. Soldier gave Demoman orders to hunt down the new “maggot girl†herself, and just when she was about to protest, Heavy entered the room. “Unh, good mornink,†he muttered, sounding almost as if he had the beginnings of a slight cold. Engineer gestured to a glass of milk already poured for the larger man. Heavy took it with a nod and a pleased grunt. “I should not have to go out of my way to track down this new foe,†Demoman said, lighting a new cigarette. “If I come across her, I will cut her head off, but I’m not going to hunt her down just because she is female.†“It’s your duty, magg-“ he paused for a second, “woman!†Demoman stood up, the chair screeching loud as it skidded back. Engineer turned around and Heavy watched with interest. “Is zhat all yu see in me?!†she shouted, her accent slipping. She radiated anger and Engineer thought about stepping between them. “Haff I not proven myzelf to you yet?†Receiving no immediate response, she stormed from the room. Engineer sighed and turned back to his cooking. “Must be on the rag,†Soldier grumbled. "Has she been getting enough meat lately?"
If this is supposed to be The Canon BLU Team (except the Sniper has tits), I'm not convinced that they'd be intentionally assholish to their own teammates. (After all, none of the allied voice commands are particularly abusive; the worst anybody gets is expressing exasperation of the map objectives are not being met.) If RED had a female class member? Hell, yes, there'd be all sorts of awful (yet compellingly entertaining) harassment in the name of intimidation, morale, and what have you. Not saying they wouldn't be sexist in other ways that might make the Sniper feel unwelcome even on their own team, of course. But in my headcanon interteam relationships among the upper eschelons of RED and BLU fall on the compassionate side of selective compassion. (Think competitive, not pubbie, play.)
Nine of them were supposed to be the cannon mercs, spread across both teams, and nine were OCs. I'm hoping it will come out in my writing which are which. Also, the female Sniper is RED, so that may be something I'll have to look back on and clarify. This chapter contains mild sexism, one racial slur, and semi-graphic descriptions of vomiting. Chapter Two: .... When she woke up, the RED Sniper groaned. There was a slight pain in her neck. This did not bode well for her first day of combat. She sat up and looked around the room. She'd tried to personalize it a bit last night, but it was just so plain still. She dressed in silence and brushed her hair. She pulled the brunette locks back into a low bun and put on her hat. She topped for a second and appeared deep in thought. She took off the hat and placed it on her desk. She headed out her door and made her way to the medbay. "Ahh! Fukin'a, ya trin’a kill me, doc?!" came the shriek of a familiar voice behind the door. Sniper was torn between laughing and being afraid. She wondered if she would be screaming like that soon. "Oh, come now! This is barely a pinch!" came that melodic voice from last night. The Bostonian screamed again, sounding as if he were in agony. Now the words inside were more muted, mumbles. A few minutes later a very flustered runner threw the door open. A blonde doctor stood at the doorway as the smaller man stalked off. He was smirking. "That boy," the blonde said, shaking his head. "Well, good morning, Sniper." He turned to look at the woman, gesturing for her to come inside. "Did you sleep well?" he asked, patting the table as a silent order for her to sit on it. He opened her folder, merely marked by her title. He sighed as her name was painted over in black ink and wondered why it would be so bad for him to know her name. "I guess. My pillow fell off my bed and I have a bit of a pain in my neck, but other than that, my sleep was fine," she said with a nod, rubbing the back of her neck. "Alright. May I ask your name? You don't have to tell me if you don't wish, I am just curious. We all have our secrets, so I'd understand if you don't van't to share," he rambled and suddenly stopped, laughing nervously. "No," she said and upon seeing hurt cross the older man's features, she quickly added; "Sorry." "No, no!" he said, holding his free hand up. "There is no need to apologize!" He forced out another laugh. He closed the folder and set it down on a nearby tray table. "Okay, to vork," he said, slipping on a pair of latex gloves. He took a pair of tweezers in one hand and a petri dish in the other. He plucked a tiny thing that looked like a miniature pill from it. He held it up so she could see. "This is a tracking device; it will be injected under your skin. I will let you choose where." He nodded, putting the dish, chip and tweezers down. The girl lifted her hair and gestured to the back of her neck. Medic looked up from loading the special syringe to see the location she chose. He moved behind her and brought the device to the back of her neck, "This will feel about like getting a piercing, and seeing as your eyebrow is pierced, you should know what it is like, he said. She opened her mouth to respond; only a small breathy grunt leaving her as her flesh was pierced. She let her hair down when the doctor stepped away. He started immediately cleaning the tool. "If eet swells or starts to bleed later, let me know immediately. With this, if you say 'Medic', I will be able to find and assist you. Also," he said, putting the tool aside in favor of scratching notes on her file, "I would advise that you not eat a lot this morning. You will be sick in respawn if you do. I'd say a couple pieces of toast or some dry waffles and plenty of water." "You assume I will even need to respawn." The blonde smiled and patted her shoulder. "Good attitude. It's the best thing you can have around here, ja?" Sniper looked at the doctor for a moment longer. He looked back, but turned away as quickly as she caught his gaze. She wondered if this man really was a field medic. He seemed too sweet and entirely too lonely. "Vell, you are free to go. Remember, plain breakfast. See you out zhere." His smile was sad. She decided that she wasn't going to rely on this old man on the field. She had already decided that she would not take help from anyone unless desperately needed, but this man just didn't seem cut out for battle and would have enough of a burden just carrying his own supplies. "Thanks," she said and hopped off the table. "Oh," he said, drawing her attention. "These should help you." A small baggie of pills was held out for her. It contained two large white pills and four small pink ones. "The pink are for nausea, which you may feel after a respawn and ze white are low dose painkillers. Will help your neck. Try not to let your pillow get away from you tonight, ja?" He chuckled as she took the pills. "Thanks again," she said. With that she left the medbay, swearing she heard a sigh behind her. Once the Sniper closed the door behind her and turned to head back to her room, she came nose to chest with an odd suit. She looked up as the figure stepped back, gazing into two black disks of plastic. The oddly dressed figure gave an upward nod, a gesture the female returned. Apparently satisfied, the figure moved around her to push open the medbay door and slip inside. Sniper made her way back to her room, suppressing a shiver. She donned her hat and picked up her weapons. She decided to skip breakfast. ... BLU was abuzz with nearly silent anticipation, worried energy almost palpable. Everyone was excited to see the new enemy. Everyone save for one bitter demolitions expert. She stood, awaiting the countdown, dressed in generic, old-fashioned military garb; though the coat was a cyan to match her partner's clothes. The sword was a relic, a fine piece with a purple wrapped grip and elegant hand guards. She checked over the contents of her many pockets, shoulder holsters and belt pouches. Satisfied, she turned to Sniper and gave a half-smile. The sharpshooter returned the gesture with a bit more sincerity, resting his hand on her shoulder briefly. A sticky bomb launcher was her choice of weapon today and she held it in front of her. Sniper used the same tools he always did. He sighed softly as they waited. Their Scout bounced about, chatting happily at the Engineer, the only one who would indulge in pre-battle conversation with the attention-deficit youth. The blonde's honey eyes sparkled, and his admiration for the older man was obvious, though the boy would deny it to the bitter end. Truthfully, most of the BLU team underestimated the freckled Scout, even though he'd been with the team for several months now. But the Texan spoke to everyone in the same tone - one that suggested he was speaking to a lifelong friend - and Scout was grateful for it. Sometimes the Engineer would raise his voice at Soldier or Demoman when the two argued, as they had a tendency to do. He didn't like putting his hands on a woman, but often found himself the only one stepping between the two when she took a swing or threw something at Soldier. When the siren sounded, Scout bolted. His wooden bat had a nail through it and said piece scraped the ground, making a harsh and high-pitched noise, as his legs reacted before his arms. He was out of sight before the others could wince. RED's rookie Scout did not heed Soldier's instructions and was off before the barked orders had a chance to echo. He wanted to battle, not sneak around or listen to some rant on strategy. When he laid eyes on the logo of the hat of an opposing team member, he grinned. He dashed for the boy in the navy blue hat, dashing between stray bullets, ignoring shouts from both sides. He wanted to smash the boy's head in, enraged by the white stitched N and Y. "I always wann'ed ta do this!" the Bostonian cheered, taking a swing at the other male, who stepped to the side. "Do what, suck?" asked the freckled boy, bringing up his bat, catching the other under the chin, a brief brushing of wood on flesh as the other dodged. Luckily for the RED Scout, the nail in the bat had missed him. "No! Kick a Yankee fan's ass!" the brunette Scout shouted, taking the other's bat to his arm. The bone broke, but the pain only spurred him on. He got in a good rib shot on the other Scout. As the freckled boy stumbled back, his hat fell off. The blonde pulled out a pistol and pointed it at the other. Before he could fire, though, he was taken out by a shot right between his eyes. RED Scout let out a sigh of relief, silently thanking the female Sniper for not holding a grudge. "Go Sox!" he spat before taking off. Mr. Mundy sighed, watching the chaos from his perch. Everyone was walking on eggshells, save for his friend, Demoman, and both scouts. It appeared that the new female was a Sniper. The RED boy's protectiveness gave away her position easy enough. He watched his friend set up sticky bombs, running by men that would usually have unloaded a few rounds in her by now. The men on the battlefield seemed plagued by some sort of misogynistic fear of harming her today. She was noticeably, and reasonably, enraged. Once all of her bombs were unloaded, she detached a special trigger unit from the launcher and set it aside, under an outcrop of rubble. Sniper took this opportunity to engage in a little strategy with the team. He flipped a switch on the tiny device hooked over his ear and spoke quietly; "Enemy Snipah at C-12 point, third level." He watched through his scope as Demoman turned on her own earpiece. "Point C-12 coming down in ten seconds,†she said. He flipped it off silently and counted down the seconds, breathing controlled as though he was about to take a shot himself. He couldn't see more of the rival Sniper than the barrel of her gun, but that was all he needed. Half-way though his countdown, the gun suddenly moved. She must've realized the men on the ground were moving away from her. But she was too late. She wouldn't be able to safely get away from her spot without taking some sort of damage. Four... Three... Sniper silently counted down; Two... "Hurk!" A knife drove into his back, severing vertebrae. There was only pain for a moment before respawn took him. He cursed himself for letting the other's attitude bring his guard down. With BLU Sniper dispatched, the RED Spy made his way on to more interesting affairs, cloaking and slipping away from the wasted Aussie’s perch. He avoided the shouting men, hurling insults and bullets, taking great care to stay away from the female demolitions expert, who was unaffected by the air over the battlefield. There was one problem he could not avoid: the Pyro with the half-mask. There was no getting around the geyser of flames. He waited for the BLU to sweep the opposite direction and made a break for it. As quick as he was, it wasn’t enough. He let out a breathy gasp when the flame caught him and crumpled to the floor, sharp pain firing in every nerve. “Ahh, I love the smell of cheap, Italian leather burning in the morning,†he wheezed, knowing full well the charred Spy could still hear him. The explosion rattled the battlefield, bringing down the small, four story rubble that the RED Sniper had been hiding in. Waking with a gasp in respawn, the brunette clutched her chest. Green eyes bugged as she flexed her fingers then moved them to her legs. She could have sworn they'd been crushed before she lost consciousness. She took in another deep breath and heaved a sigh of relief. A second later, she twisted to the side, heaving in another way. As she emptied her stomach's lack of contents, another body appeared close by. Quickly getting to his feet, Soldier grabbed the girl by her bicep, pulling her to her feet. She stumbled, but caught herself and shoved him off. "Of course you'd be the first to die, magette!" Her eye twitched in response and she grabbed her rifle. "At least it wasn't the nigger this time!" he laughed bitterly. The new Sniper stared in shock. "The fuck, man? He's your teammate!" But her scolding fell on deaf ears. She was tempted to fire a warning shot at her own ally and even looked at him through the scope. She figured she could get away with grazing his earlobe. Her finger caressed the trigger as the man jogged back into the fray. A groan from behind her took her attention away from the xenophobic American. "Aww, shit," came a slurred voice. "Oi, lassie! Help meh oot here!" She turned around to see their explosives expert holding his hand out, smiling sheepishly. She slung her rifle over her shoulder and took his hand. She braced herself by bending her knees and pulled him to his feet. "Ah thank ya," he said, adjusting his hat before taking his hand back. "Ah saw ya got the Scoot. T'was a good shot, girly." He patted her back and he too headed back into the fray. She decided to lay low for a while to avoid any more crushing deaths. She took one of the pink pills. The RED Pyro stood next to the charred remains of the BLU Spy, staring down at it curiously. He'd thought that even the 'insane' pyromaniac was taken by the idea of protecting the new female. A muted chuckle came from under the gas mask, further proving just how wrong he was. He soon grew bored of watching the glowing embers on Spy's suit and wandered away. "Ah shit, Doc," RED Engineer moaned as the blonde doctor examined his arm. The two were hunkered down behind an upturned slab of concrete, their Heavy on the other side, attempting to deal with the BLU Soldier, Heavy and Medic. "It'll be a-" The blonde slumped over, his blood and brain-matter splattering the Engineer's goggles. The man had no time to react as he was ripped to shreds by mini gun fire. When the REDs left respawn, the Engineer and Medic stopped dead in their tracks. Not two-hundred feet ahead stood the BLU Demoman, looking for all the world deranged. A cigarette hung from one side of her lips, the other side pulled up in a snarl, revealing the jagged piece of tooth. In one hand she held her sword, detonation device in the other. "Can not avoid me now, boys." The brunette Scout ran into the paralyzed Engineer's back, having recently respawned. "'Ey! What gives?!" "Come on, little boys," she shouted. "Dude, shoot 'er!" Scout cried. When the others did nothing, he rushed forward, raising his bat. She dodged a swing and returned the favor. Her sword clanged on his bat. She smiled and spat out her half-smoked cigarette. "The first one to test me is ze baby!" she said. He grabbed her with his left arm, but she wrenched out of his grip. "Aluminum bat courage," she muttered, her sword once again clanging against the bat. "You are not ready for ze majors, boy." Heavy and Engineer hurried by as she was distracted, sparring with their new Scout, but the blonde Medic was frozen in place. He couldn't do anything, even as the boy's head fell to the ground, cleaved at the neck. He shrunk back as the girl turned to him. "Points C-9 and B-9, going up in three seconds," she said into her earpiece. She took three slow steps forward, each step seeming to last an eternity. She raised the device and pushed two buttons. "Now, dear Medic," she said, explosions rattling in the distance. "Shoot me," she said, lips turning up. "Kristina!" he gasped, taking a step back. "How d-" RED Scout's scattergun disposed of her as the boy ran by. He would have made a witty comment, but he had to make up for lost time. He figured she should have been expecting him so close to the respawn location. The blonde Medic gaped, the girl's blood splattered across his coat. He leaned back against a piece of what was once a fence and looked at the body in disbelief. "No way," he muttered. The blonde female sat up quickly in the respawn room. She cursed and swayed and held her breath. Her hand shot out to catch herself, but it did nothing to stop the peach and tan spew that poured from her mouth. Looking at the partially digested pasta did not quell her nausea. She coughed violently and another puddle quickly joined the first. "Shoot, too easy! I got this. Today's ours in one minit!" the blonde heard in her earpiece. She groaned and flopped on her back. She rolled on her side and whined, not caring what she looked like. Three minutes later a voice announced the BLU victory. Most of the BLU team enjoyed their celebratory kills, but Sniper felt like something was wrong. "Demo, where are ya?" he asked into his headset, heading toward the base. He hadn't seen her at all during the victory round and was concerned by the fact that the rival Medic knew her name.
A couple small points: I think you're overdoing the accents a little. A little goes a long way, imo. Also, I find repeated use of "the female" as a noun to be grating. Why not call them women instead? Soldier referring to Demoman with the n-word seems really wrong to me. Though maybe that one is the OC? I can't tell yet for the Soldiers. Anyway... I'm always kinda wary of OCs, but I'm intrigued by the blond Medic.
I was a but worried about the accents. Though, less the thickness and more the consistency. I felt as though I was slipping back and forth between similar accents, and sometimes not even bothering with them at all. The female/woman thing is probably my own bias/gender issues coming to the surface. I'll try and keep that in check in the future. Since Jane and Tavish were the best of friends, I don't really think Jane would call Tavi the n-word. Hint hint. I understand your uneasiness of OC stories. I don't read them often either as they tend to be self-inserts for the sake of some young lady wanting the mercs fawning over her. For the love of duck, I hope that's not what this is coming off as. This chapter contains mild homophobia and drug references. She'd left her earpiece on after informing the group of the locations of her bombs and what Sniper had heard concerned him. He knew she was trying to goad the passive RED Medic into fighting with the suicidal sounding phrase, but what followed almost made him miss a target. The blonde doctor knew the girl's name. He muttered it and shortly after, scattergun fire rang loud in his ear. The opposing Medic muttered something he couldn't make out and there was a fleshy 'thud'. Sniper and Demoman knew each other's names. They had for a year now. They shared this knowledge one night, sprawled out on the dirty mattress in the back of Sniper's van. They smoked marijuana form an ivory bowl and told each other a few of their dirty secrets. "Muh name's Andy," he said, for once enjoying contact with another person. Her side was pressed against his and he couldn't bring himself to care that it was just a little too warm. "Andrew Mundy," he said, his lips pulling back in a lazy smirk, wrapping an arm around the female's shoulders. "Nice to meet you, Andrew," she said with a rather stupid sounding giggle, pressing her cheek into his vest. "I am Kristina Heilbronner. 'Tis German." "Are yeh German or were your parents just crea'ive?" Sniper asked, chuckling to himself. "Yah, German. No telling, kay?" There was a long pause as she turned her head toward the ceiling, just staring at it. "Lived there for seventeen years. Mom unt I moved in '39." "Can't imagine whoi," Andy said, rolling his eyes. The action made him laugh and Demoman followed suit. "That's not funney." His words did nothing to stop their chuckles. "Ya ever miss it?" Sniper asked, turning his head to look at the girl who found the dropping headliner very interesting. "Germany? Nah. Just my father unt brother, yah," she said, nodding slowly, a grin creaking on her lips. "You have family?" "'Eah, a mum and dad. Thank I got a baby sister runnin' around somewhere." "You think?" "'Eah." "Uhn." Her grunt made him chuckle again. He moved closer to the girl, smiling as he slowly curled around her. She stiffened, seeming to sway even though she was lying down. "Hey, uh-" She tried to pull away from him. "I ain't wan-" "As much as yeh act like one, ya ain't a bloke, so ya don' 'av'ta worry about me," he said. Her face scrunched up as though she couldn't process the information she was given. "What?" she asked. "Yer not moi type," he clarified. "Oh," she said and snuggled into his grip. The spent the rest of the night talking about places they wanted to go and things they wanted to do. Surprisingly, they had a fair amount in common and he'd decided the other might make a good "partner in crime" after his time in the war game was up. As much as he liked his solitude, it was pleasant to have a friend. ... "In Melbourne with your mother," was her response. She obviously did not feel like talking. "Demo," he scolded lowly. She sighed heavily and the sound was almost deafening. He decided to check the respawn room. He found the female leaning against a wall, holding her stomach, earpiece thrown across the room, bloodied sword lying where she had respawned along with what he assumed was the control unit for her sticky bombs. She had dried vomit on the corner of her mouth. Sniper winced at the way she looked. Usually she'd pick herself up, wipe off the vomit and run back out into the fray. "Feelin' crook, eh? Let's go see the doc," he said, slowly walking over to her. That phrase had her scrambling to her feet. "No," she spat. "I do not trust him," she muttered in a language the other couldn't decipher, wiping her mouth. "Eh? Whasat mean? Som'n bad I assume," he chuckled at her glare and held out his hand. "Oi'll go with you," he offered. Sniper was silent for a moment. He licked his lips as he thought about what to say. The blonde’s loud belch brought him out of his thoughts. The look on his face made her laugh. “Always a lady,†he muttered sarcastically. “Hey, I left my launcher out there and the system did not pick it up for me. Want to go with me to get it?†she asked, gathering her things. She ignored the drying puddles of vomit for the time being. “Alroit,†Sniper said, adjusting his rifle strap. “Let’s get it before someone else takes it for scrap.†The gates to the field were closed but the two found a way in and walked to where she’d left her weapon. “We shoul’ prob’ly talk to some’n about the system not picking up yer gun,†Andrew said, looking out across the field, wary of rival camp boys being on the prowl. The day’s battle was over, but, he figured, he could never be too careful. The RED Sniper had been combing the battlefield, enjoying the smell of charred flesh that lingered, looking for anything the respawn system may have left behind. She was contemplating the complexity of the kind of machine it would take to put people back together and only leave a smell and a stain when she heard voices behind her. “It probably does not recognize the weapon as mine after I detach the detonation unit from it,†a female voice said. The female Sniper took off toward her base, cursing her bad luck. She was hungry. Ravenous, almost. Catching a glimpse of red out of the corner of his eye, Andrew turned to the retreating form. “’Ey,†he said, jerking his head in the girl’s direction. The blonde jerked her head up. She grinned and took the Sniper’s hand with her free one. He let her, knowing she would release his grip soon enough. The two used their better knowledge of the landscape to corner the girl. “Well, well, well, what ‘ave we hea’?†the male Sniper asked, putting a hand up to block the female Sniper’s path. She turned to go the other way but bounced off the chest of another female, who laughed when she stumbled back. “Looks like a lost little RED riding hood,†the blonde said with a chuckle. “What are you going to do in the land of big, bad wolves, uh?†The look of fear in green eyes swiftly changed to one of malice as the challenge was accepted. Her hand at her side popped the button on the strap that held her kukri in place. This was not missed by the male Sniper’s keen eye. “I’ve fought bigger wolves than you two,†said the brunette, brandishing her blade. She held it up between herself and the others, blade facing out. The other female was going to speak, but she instead studied the blade with a soft humming noise. “Windlass, hmm? Not a bad choice.†Her hand went to her hip, all but tearing her sword from its sheath, stepping back. She brought it up, parallel to her body and stepped back in. “Mine is bigger,†she whispered. Andrew thought about drawing his own blade, but resisted, resigned to watch the women. They had challenged each other and, ever the gentleman, he would not step in unless needed. “Size isn’t the only thing that matters,†the girl in red said, jade eyes narrowing dangerously, “But feel free to underestimate me some more.†She had a hint of an Irish accent, just enough to make one wonder if she’d been abruptly uprooted. The blonde laughed. It wasn’t melodic. It wasn’t cute. It certainly wasn’t charming. The only thing it served to accomplish was enraging the RED Sniper. Demoman handed her sticky bomb launcher to Sniper and stepped back, blade extended toward the new girl. “Shall we dance then, loser?†“After you, Cailli,†the brunette said. Sniper felt almost honored, hearing the women mutter what he assumed were hateful words in their own respective languages. He held his friend’s launcher with one hand, and watched their dance. Though he wouldn’t have called it a dance himself, as calling it such would imply that it was graceful or at the very least, thought out. It was neither of those things as the girls took wild swings at one another, the RED seeming more intent on doing harm than the BLU. Upon getting her arm slashed open, the blonde howled in pain and hit the brunette on the head the butt of her sword. “Schwachling,†she hissed, kicking the momentarily disoriented female back. “Go hifrean leat,†was the retort as soon as the brunette regained enough clarity to take another violent swing at the blonde. The sound of their blades clashing was not a pleasant one and neither female heard the shouting or hurried footfalls of the RED Scout quickly approaching. “Kackbratze,†the blonde muttered, not caring if her insults even made sense at this point. Demoman pulled back to take yet another swing and the hollow ‘clang’ of her sword on an aluminum bat was not a pleasant sound for any parties involved. Kristina looked up and the female Sniper used the opportunity to get payback for being kicked in the stomach earlier. The blonde stumbled back, her teammate’s arm shooting out to catch her. After gagging and inhaling sharply, she looked up at who had interrupted them. She grinned at the angry-looking Scout, revealing that her lip had been split some time during the fight. “Ah, minor league!†she said as if happy to see him. “Th’ hell, man! Battle’s ova, ain’t it?†he asked, stepping between the females, holding his bat out toward the blonde. “Back for another arse kicking?†she asked gleefully. “Didn’t you get enough earlier?†“If I recall right, I blew ya head off right afta!†he said, trying to look imposing against a female two inches taller and easily had fifty pounds on him. “While you was eyein’ our doc like a piece a meat, ya slut.†The blonde’s mouth fell open. “’Ey now! There’s no need fir those kin’a names!†Sniper put in, pulling his friend back and stepping in front of her. He invaded the shorter male’s personal space. “Oh what, did I insult yer bitch?†Scout said with a grin. “Come out ‘ere to watch a little girl on girl violence? Well, th’ fights ova ya prick!†Andrew was shaking with rage. His shoulders hunched, eyes narrowed at the runner. Tomorrow, he decided, the boy would not be able to get past the respawn exit. Scout opened his mouth to continue bad-mouthing the others, but stopped when a feminine hand tapped his arm. “Enough. They’re not worth it,†she said, sheathing her kukri. “Yeah,†he responded before spitting at the ground in front of him. Sniper stepped back to avoid getting a wad of mucus on his boot. The two turned and hurried away as Sniper shook off his friend’s tentative touch. He turned to look at the girl and his eyes widened. ….. Immediately after he’d respawned, the blonde Medic vomited. He shook his head violently and rushed from the room, back to the medbay. Once the door closed behind him, he ran his fingers through his hair. “Mein gott…†he muttered, staggering to the work station with the pill press. His hands shook as he searched a cardboard box of bottles and baggies, looking for a recent batch he’d made. When he couldn’t find it, he swatted the box off the table with a curse. Its contents scattered and one bottle busted open, white pills flying everywhere. He flopped down in is chair and put his elbows on the now-clear surface. He buried his face in his hands and fought back curses and sobs. There came a soft knock on the door and the blonde hoped he could just ignore it and they would go away. Surely, he thought, respawn had taken care of all their injuries. A minute later the knock came again. The doctor sighed heavily and muttered in German under his breath. He once more ignored it. He was surprised when the handle jiggled and the door creeped open, but he did not look to see who it was. The door closed and the sounds of boots thudding against the floor met his ear. The blonde tried to block out the sound by gripping his hair. “Mark,†came a smooth voice. The blonde turned to look at the other, hands still in his hair. He said nothing. “Mark?†The Medic sighed and scrunched his eyebrows. He looked back down at his desk and closed his eyes. “What happened today, Mark?†the Engineer asked, placing a hand on the blonde’s shoulder. The other immediately stiffened. He held his position for all of two seconds before the blonde stood and smacked the other’s hand away. “Do not touch me, schwul!†the Medic shouted, slipping easily into German in his distressed state. Engineer shrunk back out of shock rather than actual fear. Though the man had several inches on him, Mark was not an intimidating man. He was a doormat of a Medic, nothing like the quite possibly psychotic doctor at the BLU base. “I’m sorry,†Engineer started, looking concerned. “I,†he paused to think of what to say. “I just wanted to see if you were okay.†He looked around at the mess on the floor. “And ask what got you so spooked.†The fire that rose in those blue eyes died immediately. Mark sighed and his posture relaxed. He ran his hand through his hair once more before letting it rest on the back of the chair he was previously sitting on. “I’m sorry, Ellis,†the blonde’s voice returned to its’ normal tone and he gave a shy glance over at the other man. “I just,†he trailed off, looking over the other’s shoulder. “You just?†the shorter man asked, stepping closer. Mark fixed his tie and took a step back. He looked down at his clothes and paused his movements. He remembered her blood splattering over his coat and her body slumping to the ground. “Mark?†Engineer’s voice made him jump. He blinked rapidly and raised his head. “Yes, Ellis?†he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets so he would not fiddle with anything. “You’re spacing out. Maybe you should rest,†was the simple suggestion. “No, no. I am fine. Just a little distracted. It is quite silly, really! I will be over it by tomorrow, I assure you.†Ellis wasn’t buying it. He clicked his tongue as he thought of what to say. He crossed his arms and studied the doctor, who was forcing an almost creepy smile. “You know me! We’ve worked together for, what is it, six years now? Would I lie to you?†Mark asked, taking his hands from his pockets to hold them out. “Yes,†Ellis said simply. He took off his hat and goggles, placing them on the clean spot on the desk. “If you think it will bother me. Now spill.†Mark pouted and the engineer fought back a chuckle. He knew so much yet so little about the older man. He knew the other was an emotional wreck, but not why. He knew the blonde was in damn good physical condition for his age, but he had never seen the man raise a finger to harm another except for mild scoldings in the form of gentle swats upside the head. He also knew the other had some bad habits, one of which was strewn about the floor as they spoke. “I just thought I saw a ghost is all,†Mark said, heading to another work station, opening a drawer. He walked the long way to get to the other desk as to avoid any possible contact with his ally. That was another thing Ellis had observed; that the blonde went out of his way to avoid contact. “A ghost?†“Ja. I,†he stopped for a moment, pulling out what looked like a scrap of paper. “For a minute,†he spoke, sounding distant and staring at the scrap in his gloved hand, “The demolitions expert on the ozher team looked like my sister.†He stood up to his full height, deciding not to slouch over the desk anymore and held the picture out for the other to see. Ellis studied the picture for a moment, bringing one gloved hand up to scratch his stubbled chin as he stepped closer. “Hmm, it does kind of look like her,†he said, but quickly smiled and added: “But, the girl in this picture is much prettier. Besides, don’t you know where your sister is? Don’t you write to her?†“Nein,†he spoke softly, “I haven’t seen my sister since…†He trailed off, his jaw set. A muscle in his cheek fluttered. Ellis wanted to urge him on, but was almost afraid he would inspire another outburst. So he waited. “Nineteen thirty-nine.†A long silence passed between the two as the Engineer thought of what this could imply. He’d never thought to ask the man if he was a German-born Jew. He’d never even thought that the man could be a holocaust survivor – or a Nazi. But the man was much too timid for that, he assumed. “But, it is silly to think that Kristina would be here of all places!†Mark said and laughed. “The little girl who loved Johan’s cookies and football would not be a mercenary!†“A’course not!†Ellis added, though he got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “I’m going to go watch Demo cook. Make sure he doesn’t blow up the kitchen. Want to come?†“No, but I appreciate the offer. I have work that needs to be done and a mess that needs to be cleaned up.†“A’right,†the Engineer said, moving back over to the other desk, grabbing his hard hat and goggles. “Just find me if you feel like talkin’.†With that, he left. As soon as the door closed, the blonde put the picture back in its place. He knelt down to pick up a small handful of the white pills and popped them into his mouth. He swallowed them dry. Mark grabbed the top form from a plastic tray on his desk and set to work, determined to get some work done before the pills kicked in. …. As the RED two made a hasty retreat, Demoman put her hand on Sniper’s back. She was torn between thanking the male and scolding him for stepping in. She went with neither as the feelings canceled each other out, deeming silence the appropriate course of action as they watched the REDs leave. He shrugged off her hand and turned to look at her, obviously still a bit miffed at the rival Scout’s words. His expression fell, his jaw going slack. She was bleeding. Her uniform was certainly ruined with a gash along one sleeve, bloody wound apparent. “You should really go see th’ doc,†Andrew said, eyeing her arm. “Nein!†the gasped responded as she drew back. “Bitte,†she whispered. “I don’t speak German, hun,†he said and sighed. He wanted to pull off his hat and run his fingers through his hair, but his hands were full and he wasn’t going to make his friend carry her nearly forty pound gun with an open wound. An open wound she was now pressing her other hand on, clutching her arm to her chest. She had smeared blood all over her uniform. At some point, she’d returned her sword to its scabbard, possibly when he’d stepped in front of her. “See? Ze bleeding is slowing!†She pulled her hand back so he could see the congealing blood. It oozed over the flesh he could see and started to pour anew with the relaxed pressure. “Bitte, please, do not make me go to him!†She looked decidedly female in that moment, blue eyes pleading with him. She looked scared. She seemed much less afraid of losing her arm than seeing the doctor. Andrew sighed. The wound wasn’t life threatening, just messy and, he assumed, painful. He wanted to know why the blonde was so afraid of the Medic, but let it go for the time being. “Well then, I guess we gotta get ya patched up,†he said and gestured with his head for her to follow him. She clutched her wounded arm all the way back to his van and Sniper was surprised that the girl did not demand he let her carry her own weapon. Her fear of the doctor was crippling. She became a blathering mess around the bespectacled man, going so far as to cry and beg the sharpshooter not to leave during her twice yearly physicals. As he spotted the brunette pyromaniac – dressed casually in worn out jeans, a white tee and thick, dark wrap-around shades – he wondered what the opposite of xenophobia was and if the girl would freak out upon meeting someone who looked like herself and spoke German. “Whot ‘appened?†Pyro asked, grabbing the blonde’s wrist, pulling her arm out to get a better look at the wound. “The new RED schlampe,†was all the blonde said, save for hissing at the tug of flayed skin. The brunette didn’t seem to care that his hand was quickly becoming covered in his ally’s – friends? He wasn’t sure how the others felt about him – blood. He peeled back the ripped sleeve and the blonde hissed again as the material was torn from the wound where it had been soaked and absorbed as blood started to cake. “Thes is pretty,†the fire starter said, adjusting his shades with the other hand. He, too, knew that the female would not see the doctor and thus did not suggest it. “I can fix it, but it will scar.†“Ngh, don’t care.†Sniper sat down next to the two, one leg hanging over the bumper, the other drawn close to him. He tossed a green cloth bag, one that was splattered with blood and other various stains, to Pyro. The other caught it and tucked under his arm as he twisted the girl’s arm, trying to gauge the extent of the damage. “Got a lighter?†the brunette asked, “Mine ran dry.†“A’course it did,†Andrew said, searching his vest’s inner pockets. Once found, the lighter was handed to the Pyro. He lit his cigarette and puffed on it as he searched the bag. He handed a bunched up cloth to Demoman and instructed her to hold it tightly over the wound before he resumed rummaging. Surprised to find a thin metal rod in the bag, the brunette chanced a glance at the Aussie, who was sipping a beer, and wondered if he had cauterized wounds before. The shorter male held the rod at one end with the bottom of his shirt bunched around it and heated the other end with the lighter. “Thes will hurt,†he said, swatting her hand away and pinching the wound shut on the side closest to her elbow. He took a small bit of pleasure in the way the other screamed when the heated rod touched her flesh. Sniper flinched slightly and looked away. The girl let loose an array of foul words in German and another language, some of the words made the maniac grin. He recognized “fuck you†and “bastardâ€, but the other words were lost on him. After the wound was burned shut, he set the rod aside and resumed searching the bag. “Burn salve…†Pyro said slowly. As he waited for a response, he inhaled the scent of Demoman’s burning arm hair, committing it to memory. Sniper leaned into the van, stretching to reach something. There was a faint snapping sound of crisp vegetation and, a few seconds later, a leaking aloe leaf was thrust into Pyro’s hand. The brunette squeezed the leaf for a moment, watching sap bubble up on the fleshy part of the plant before roughly rubbing the goo onto the newly closed cut. “Fick! Warn me, bastard!†Kristina shouted, nearly dropping her cigarette. The male in front of her grunted in response, tossing the spent leaf aside. “Plastic wrap?†he asked Sniper got up and searched boxes for the requested material, finally finding a roll with enough left to wrap around her arm twice. “Duct tape?†“Duct tape?†the sharpshooter questioned. “Yes?†“There’s medical tape in the bag.†“Not strong enough,†said the shorter male. Andrew grunted and grabbed a roll, handing it off to the other. Both males smirked at the girl’s expression; she did not like to be manhandled as such. Once completely bandaged, Demoman flexed her fingers, testing the pull of the wrap. It wasn’t too bad. A beer was thrust into her other hand. The three drank in silence, just enjoying each other’s company, watching the sunset. … The RED Sniper had tried to treat her own wounds with a little – very little- help from Scout. He was actually more of a hindrance than help. She was surprised with how little damage she had actually taken; only one cut she had taken on the back of her thumb when the other woman’s blade slipped down her own, nothing to really worry about but a few bruises. The only thing she was actually worried about was the lump on her head. She was developing a headache that she was sure would go away if she had some peace and quiet and food. But the Bostonian kept suggesting, ordering, telling her to go see the doctor. In order to shut him up, she did. The thin male even walked her to the medbay doors. She knocked on the door but there was no answer. “Jus’ go in!†Scout said, turning the handle. He pushed the door open and shooed the girl inside. Sniper looked around and blinked curiously. Pills were scattered everywhere. Odd, she thought, closing the door behind her. She looked around at the work stations and the table, wondering where the doctor was. Finally turning again, she noticed his form, slumped over his desk, and almost laughed. It appeared as if he had fallen asleep doing paperwork and was now drooling comedically on the last piece he was working on, pen still in a relaxed grip. She stepped to the edge of the desk and studied him for a moment. He looked thin in that lab coat, all angles; broad shoulders tapered down to long arms, feminine fingers, pointed nose. His glasses were askew and his mouth hung open. He snored faintly. “Doctor?†she asked, not knowing if she really wanted to wake him or not. But, she decided, that position couldn’t be good for his back. “Doctor,†she said again, louder. He bolted upright, the paper sticking to his face. He dropped the pen and stared at the source of the voice. She laughed until she noticed his dilated pupils. “Are you alright?†He blinked a few times, his eyes trying to adjust. He settled on leaving them half-lidded. “Herr Am-“ he paused and chuckled, realizing he was in no danger. “Sniper!†He sounded way too cheery for the emotions that had just flit across his features. Shock, worry, fear, confusion and relief all passed in a matter of seconds. He pulled the paper from his face and looked embarrassed. He sat it back down and flexed his fingers slowly. Satisfied with his body’s reactions, he put his hands together and forced a smile. “How can I help you?†“Y’alright?†she asked. “Never better!†his response. “What troubles you?†She pursed her lips and grabbed the chair opposite his desk. She flipped it around and sat. “I got into a fight with ‘at BLU bitch,†she said, leaning her head on the back of the chair. She did not see Mark stiffen. “Now my head ‘urts.†“Ah, ze painkillers did not help?†She looked up over the back rest. She hadn’t thought of that. She’d been more concerned with where her hat had gone, not wanting to wear a baseball cap to keep the sun out of her eyes the next day. “I didn’t take 'em,†she admitted sheepishly. “How about you try one of zose, and if it does not dull the pain in unt hour, come back to me, ja?†He pushed his chair back and stood, but his limbs were not as ready for action as he thought they would be and stumbled. Sniper scrambled to her feet and grabbed the doctor’s coat to keep him from falling over. She pulled him upright and he looked down at her, a faint dusting of pink on his cheeks. “Thank you, herr- uh, Fr- Ms. Sniper. I must stop falling asleep at my desk!†he said, adding a nervous chuckle. “My legs, you see, become like gelatin or flan.†“Yeah…†she trailed off, still holding him steady. Once his legs began to obey his orders and straightened out, he calmly pried one of her hands from his jacket. “Now,†he said, stepping back, slowly letting their hands part, “Was it a bump on the head or something else zat may have caused this?†“Bitch hit me here,†she gestured with two fingers to the top left of her head, “With the hilt’a her sword.†She muttered more insults to herself in a language Medic did not pick up on. The doctor ‘hmm’ed and reached out, gently parting her hair to get a better look at the area. While re-parting the hair to look in a different area, Mark took a chance at conversation. “What is that language, hmm? Spanish?†he asked, running his fingers over the tender spot. She hissed in response to the touch. “No, Irish,†she corrected, trying to look up at the doctor’s face. It became much easier when he pulled back. “Ah, yes. I should have figured. Your beautiful green eyes give you away.†His palm patted her cheek gently before he pulled away and walked to a metallic cabinet. “Thanks, I think,†she muttered, watching him. He pulled open the door which hissed in response. Both were met with a cold gust of air. It was a cooler, she realized as he pulled a cold compress from it. “This should dull the pain until the pills kick in,†he said, holding it out to her. She took a few steps required to meet him and took the compress. “I appreciate it.†“Come back any time,†he said with a soft smile, leaning against the cooler. To the Sniper, he looked lonely and almost pathetic. She sighed softly and ignored the barely-there desire to befriend the man, hoping he wouldn’t take her manners for something more. She nodded and put the cold compress on her head as she left the room. She stiffened a bit when she heard a tired sigh behind her, faint under the sound of the closing door. She stopped for a second, debating with herself about what she should do. With her own sigh, she headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. She almost stopped just short of the kitchen, the bickering within doing nothing to help her headache. But, she would rather take the larger pill with water, so she pressed on. “You can’t put that much in there, you’ll kill everyone’s taste buds so they can’t enjoy my food later,†said a low, smooth voice with a slight southern drawl. “Doon’t tell meh what ta do, lad!†came a harsh, loud retort. "Lad?' I'm old enough to be your daddy!" Sniper listened to Demoman and Engineer argue as she strode to the sink and took a cup from the cupboard. She turned the cold tap on and collected the water. She chuckled at the goofy grin on the face of the heavy weapons guy who sat at the table, happily watching the two argue. She took up a seat next to him and decided to inquire; “Why are you so happy?†“Demoman and Engineer like to argue about whose food is tasting better. When they do, Heavy has good food for days.†She scoffed and watched the two bicker until the Engineer threw his hands up in defeat. He sat across the table from Heavy and Sniper. “Hey, uh,†the female started, looking across the table. “Whot’s up with the doctor?†Engineer chewed his lip as he thought of what to say. “He, uh, has his problems. Like the rest of us. But he’s a good guy. Probably the kindest amongst us.†“Is he really cut out for this?†The southerner’s expression answered the question for her, despite his following words: “Yes, he is a good doctor, just… unable to hurt anyone but himself.†“Whot? He’s… strange.†“He doesn’t like to be touched. It makes him act kinda off. He’s not a creep or anything like that.†Engineer waved his hand dismissively. “He didn’t seem to mind me helping him up,†she said, scrunching her brow. “Huh, maybe because yer a girl. Ya probably remind him of his little sister. Or he’s lonely. But, I promise, he’s not an old perv.†She hummed softly in response and took one of the white pills with a big gulp of water. Demoman howled in pain and the Sniper nearly moaned at the delicious smell that wafted her way. ... From amidst the radiant glow the sunset cast, a figure emerged. The group watched pensively as the figure approached, something dangling at its side. "This is for you," Soldier said, coming into view, throwing a dead, headless wild turkey at Demoman's feet. She looked confused. "I kept its head," he announced. "Uh," she said, dumbfounded. Sniper reached out to grab it. "Don't touch it, fluffy! She needs to eat it!" "Fluffy?" Sniper muttered. "I have no idea," Demoman responded.