-  [WT]  [Home] [Manage]

Posting mode: Reply
Subject   (reply to 3274)
Password  (for post and file deletion)
  • Supported file types are: None
  • Maximum file size allowed is 1000 KB.
  • Images greater than 200x200 pixels will be thumbnailed.
  • Currently unique user posts. View catalog

No. 3274
First off, I'd like to say: I'M SO SORRY

Second of all: I'll just say this right now: I'm terrible at accepting criticism, but I want to fix that. Please don't hesitate in nitpicking; It's the only way I'll get better at it.

Even after the fact, he was still in shock. In the brief time we was here, he already made good friends with Mumbles. And now that the firebug was gone . . .

Someone was knocking on the door. No, it sounded more like punching.

Scout was quick (as he always was) to wipe the tears from his eyes. He's not going to cry, dammit, not in front of the others! He swung around the meet face-to-face the person who just broke his bedroom door off it's hinges.

"Burial for leetle Pyro is about to start. Leetle man is to come to leetle Sniper van soon!"

Sniper? The distraught Scout started to weep again. That BLU Sniper, damn him!

"Is leetle scout okay?"

RED Scout now realized that the Heavy was squatting down awfully close to him. Small blue eyes are staring at him, and he can see how much of a baby. The youth instinctively shrunk away from the large man and turned his back to him. Burying his face in his arms, Scout wished to himself quietly that he would disappear. The laughing and taunting of deranged heads danced through his head as he hid himself deeper. A large hand slumped on top of Scout's frail-looking shoulder, a booming voice chased away the bad thoughts.

"Don't worry, Scout. Is okay to cry."

The youth turned around to meet the large behemoth, now standing up to full height, tears welled up in his eyes. He didn't need to ask for more reassurance, and he couldn't. The expression on Scout's was more then enough to make him go on.

"Vhen I was new to RED, there was leetle Engineer. The leetle Engineer was a great comrade and credit to team! But then STOOPID baby Spy murdered the Engineer! It was sad day, until sandvich cheered me up and everything was okay again!"

The giant of a man let out a heartfelt chuckle, patting the scout on the back. Heavy was far from being a good story teller, but now the world seemed to have a bright outlook thanks to his words. By this point Scout has recovered quite a bit. He wasn't trying to dig his way under the floorboards, for one, and he was actually smiling a little! Heavy beamed back at the boy, pleased that the reaction was a pleasant one.

"Doktor made some sandviches yesterday. Ve could go get some, ja?"

The adolescent shook his head, his voice a little crackled but otherwise normal.

"I'm fine, but thanks."

Scout's eyes scanned the room for something silver and oddly phallus. Sure enough, his trusty bat was laying next to him. He picked up the blunt object with one motion as he pulled himself off the floor with another.

"I'll see you at the funeral, chucklehead!"


Before he could even get a head start, Scout was picked up in one large swoop and casually plopped on Heavy's broad shoulders. His shoulders are surprisingly hard for someone as chubby as Heavy, and was not comfortable to be hanging off of at all. Blood rushed to Scout's head as he swung his trusty bat at his captor, who was carrying him to god knows where.

"Hey! Hey! Let go of me!"

The giant just chuckled softly.

"Hit me again and I vill punch out all leetle man blood!"


Scout was more then relieved to be let go by the large man after a long walk. He could almost hear the giggles of his deceased friend, something he found he longed for. Heavy took a seat by Medic, his chair squeaking under his weight. The doctor himself looked rather distant, his head resting lopsided on a balled-up fist. Near the camper van are Sniper and Demoman, the latter drooling on the former in a drunken stupor. The Engineer
was sitting by his lonesome, and seemed to be preoccupied with watching Solly dig a large hole in the ground. Scout sighed lightly to himself. The Spy was nowhere to be seen, a little placard reading "Spy" sitting in his place in an empty chair. He swat the folded card off and claimed the seat as his own.

The atmosphere felt heavy and damp, like if they were drowning in a sea of thick, slow molasses. Except the molasses taste more like cough syrup than molasses. It was just depressing. In the center was a cruddy make-shift coffin, and it looked more like a large box than a last resting place. The worst part of it all had to be that the coffin was open. Scout could see Pyro's mask poking out. Oh god, Pyro . . .

So it wasn't just some cruel joke after all. He really was gone.


The smell of fresh java soothed the Sniper as he brought his lips to his mug, labeled '#1 Sniper'. He looked up from his brew for a moment through his aviators. He lightly nudged the sleeping Demoman laying on top of him, and then nudged again.

"Oi'. Wake up, everyone's here."

Demoman budged slightly in his sleep, but only to nudge closer to the sharpshooter. He murmured something incoherent before falling back asleep. Snipes's cheeks flushed slightly as he retracted away in disgust.

"Oh come on! Wake up already!"

There was no reply from the sleeping cyclops. Oh great, now he's beginning to drool again! Sniper had enough of this. With a great shove, he pushed the unsuspecting Demoman off him, off his camper van steps, and onto his back. The Demoman's single eye opened up instantly, that spark of life was back.

"Finally. Didn't think you'd ever wake up. Everyone's here, so get at it."

The Scotsman nodded, walking to the center of the field.

"Laddies, we're gathered here today to mou-. Mour-."

Demoman took a gulp of scrumpy. He never goes to these kind of things without it.

"Mou-. Murh-. Muh-. Uhhhh."

He took another swig. The Medic kindly interjected.


The chemist's eye twinkled.

"O'! Right! We're gather'd here today to mourn t' passin' of our good friend t' Pyro."

The Scout choked to hide back his tears, which flowed out of his eyes like cascades. Demoman sipped idly from his bottle.

"He was a good ladd. Or lass. Dunnae."

A loud belch emerged from the Scotsman. By now Sniper was covering his head with both hands. The Scout couldn't help but giggle, but it only made the sobbing worse. Demoman raised his bottle of scrumpy in the air, waving it to and fro.

"Ah well. Cheers, mate!" By this point the drunk was too intoxicated to stand, and landed on his fanny. The Sniper had already retreated to his van, and evidently, forgot to take his favorite mug in with him.

Solly climbed out of the hole, no, trench he dug out of the ground. He admired his work with a large mad grin.

"Alright, boys! Let's bury this dead son of a bitch six feet in the GROUND!"

As he put empathis on the last word, he slammed the door of the coffin down. It was a wonder that it did not break off the hinges, and most surprising of all was that the Pyro's mask fitted inside with no resistance. Weird. Solly grabbed the underside of the coffin and lifted it up a little ways. Everyone but the scout followed suit and held it up.

"ON MY MARK, MEN! ONE. . . TWO . . ."


Everyone turned to meet eyes with the masked demon, now fresh from the respawn. He gave a thumbs up to his amigos and did his trademark giggle. Everyone followed in suit, laughing until their sides hurt. Even the Spy gave off a husky "HOH HOH HOH", and had to get out of the faux coffin in order to get enough air to breathe. The only exception to this joy fest was Scout, who couldn't laugh even if he wanted to since his lower jaw dropped off and ran off into the sunset.

How could they betray him like this? Weren't they his friends? He thought the Pyro was really dead!

The Scout went back for a moment in time, back when he was a kid in Boston. Life was great, back then. He would wake up in the morning to a great breakfast, made by his wonderful mother. Maybe he and his eight older brothers would go to the park and play ball. Make some new friends at the school . . . some new bullies. Bullies that would mock him. Bullies that would stick him in garbage cans. Bullies that would stick your head in a toilet and flush it until you can't last anymore. His brothers weren't much better; they would pick on him, just because he was the smallest. Just because he was younger then he was.

Okay, so maybe the latest trick his teammates pulled wasn't so bad. In fact, he had to admit it was quite clever! Solly was marching back in forth in the trench he made, Engineer was smiling and strumming his guitar, Demoman was dancing by his lonesome, and Heavy was having, ahem, quality time with the Medic. In the distance, he could faintly see the Spy running off with Sniper's coffee, going "HOH HOH HOH" as he was
fleeing from the machete wielding Sniper. Just like in those Roadrunner cartoons he watch as a kid.

A gloved hand curled across the Scout's shoulders. Behind him was his masked compatriot, looking over his shoulder.

"Hrry brrdy. Yrr Rrky?"

Scout smiled. Then he grinned. Then he started laughing. Pyro laughed along with him, patting the skinny runner on the back.

"Okay? I feel awesome!"

Marked for deletion (old)
>> No. 3275
It's funny, but to be honest, it really doesn't make sense to me.
>> No. 3276

Now that I re-read it, though, it dosen't make much sense either. Especially the first part. Frig, should of done that first. Oh well, too late now.

>> No. 3278
The team is initiating Scout. He didn't know about respawn, so they decided to play a prank on the probie. At least, that was what I got out of it.

It was cute; real writing potential.
>> No. 3280
The team is initiating Scout. He didn't know about respawn, so they decided to play a prank on the probie. At least, that was what I got out of it.
Yup. That's what I was going for at first. But then I get a new idea/can't figure out what to write next and I try to fit it in somehow/improvise and stick it in. It's a real problem for me, as is spelling (Thank god for spellcheck) and grammar. Any advice on how to overcome this is much appreciated.
>> No. 3289
Maybe make it into a series on one-shots?
>> No. 3298

If you guys actually like this stuff, then sure! I'm already working on another (sillier) one-shot and I'm praying that it dosen't turn into a huge clusterfuck like my writing usual is :S

I can't shake off the feeling that something horribly wrong happened in the making of this one but I can't put my finger on it. Gfghagfkal
>> No. 3299

You need a beta?
>> No. 3305

Hurf. Yes. Only reason why I didn't get a beta for this one was because, as an anonfag who previously never posted here before, I'd probably creep out whatever unlucky person I chose to beta for me (Without asking first, mind you).

Again, I'm sorry.
>> No. 3307

I can personally say that I would never be creeped out by random beta requests. I've done a few, actually.

I just wanna help, man.

Delete post []
Report post