|1||Scar Tissue (Engineer/Pyro)||2||26 March 2015 16:06|
|2||Meda's Assorted Fic Thread||4||26 March 2015 14:35|
|3||Dotchan's Massive Text Tump Thread||124||11 January 2015 17:18|
|4||The TF2's have dinner||22||30 December 2014 14:57|
|5||The Lessons v2.1 - HOLY SHIT NEW CHAPTERS||9||16 December 2014 08:24|
|6||Gutes Tun (TF2 Medic Fanfic)||3||3 December 2014 11:29|
|7||An Unusual Evening in Stuttgart||4||3 December 2014 11:24|
|8||Harvest||151||8 October 2014 09:13|
|9||Hi, I'm looking for this fanfic||3||10 August 2014 16:50|
|10||Looking for a lost/deleted fanfic||14||30 July 2014 05:41|
|11||Afterwards, cont'd.||189||23 July 2014 11:20|
|12||The Terror of the MilkMenn||8||15 July 2014 03:08|
|13||Looking for an old fic||3||23 May 2014 09:23|
|14||Devil With A Blue Dress||47||10 May 2014 09:35|
|15||Mercenary morning||1||6 March 2014 18:02|
|New Thread | All Threads|
Engineer and Pyro have a little heart-to-heart. Fluff, I guess.
Jesus, I've had this thing on the backburner (durr hurr) for about a year now. How does one suck any more than I do already
A heavy sigh slipped from Engineer’s lazily parted lips, barely audible over the hiss of running water. The man relaxed in the moment, thankful for the jets of pure, hot bliss working their magic on his aching muscles. Between the steamy air that rehydrated his respiratory system and the constant white noise of the showerhead, the long day of warring over barren land was easily forgotten.
Peering at his surroundings, Engineer internally rejoiced at this rare chance for total solitude. The thought of raucous laughter and chatter competing with running showerheads in the tiled echo chamber was enough to make him wince.
Shaking off the imagined cacophony, Engineer angled the shower head to direct the stream closer to the wall. He then eased himself down to the tiled floor, sitting cross-legged beneath the water. Smiling at this simple indulgence of his, he wriggled in place to best sit comfortably. Within the minute, he was leaning heavily against the wall at his back, fighting to keep heavy eyelids open. The struggle didn’t last long, and soon the engineer was lost in a sleep irresistibly warm and incredibly deep.
When he finally awoke, it was with a jerk and bout of shuddering. The water had long turned cold, showering him at increasingly cooler temperatures for so long that he hadn’t noticed his drop in core temperature. Shivering uncontrollably, Engineer carefully braced himself against the wall as he made to stand. Even the simple act of getting up was enough to make his head spin, at which he instinctively pressed himself against the tiles for balance. He snatched his towel from the nearby hook with his good hand, wrapping it around his body and pulling the fluffy fabric taut against his arms and chest. It brought him slight relief, and with the ends of the towel tucked under each arm, he shuffled for the locker room on unsteady legs.
Title: A Bit of Friendly Competition, or, Hungry Like The Wolf
Fandom/Pairing: Sniper x Demoman (same-faction), with a brief appearance by Helen/The Administrator
Notes/Content Warnings: Werewolves/monster boys, brief mention of alcohol, hunting/non-human blood, worksafe slashfic, fluff. Inspired by Luna's “Monsterous Intent” AU.
After the insufferable, stifling cacophony and heat of a Teufort summer day, the cool, eerily silent nights were a welcome reprieve for Mr. Mundy. He sat, long legs dangling over the side of his van, focusing intently through his scope, refusing to move a muscle unless he absolutely had to. Mundy and his lover, a Dr. Tavish DeGroot, were the sole members of Teufort’s Supernatural Hunt & Capture Squad. Due to Mundy’s former profession as a big game hunter, and Tavish’s eerie ability to attract all manner of were, vampire, garuda, jotun, faun, or pixie, Helen had slipped the two of them a nice, healthy bonus whenever something not-quite-mundane came up, so long as they could eliminate it.
And tonight, the prey was Jackalopes. An important data transfer had failed to show up, and Helen had discovered, to her horror, that the wee beasties had gnawed straight through her computer cables. Mundy boasted that even in the dark, he could bring home more prey with his gun than his were-boyfriend could, even with his night-vision and claws. With a wry smile on his jowl, and a mischievous twinkle in his remaining eye, Tavish agreed.
A sole bunny darted out of its hole, sniffed the air, and before Tavish could pounce, immediately slumped to the ground. One shot. Tavish rolled his eye at his partner, who doffed his hat, egging him on. The entire night went on like this, Tavish cursing his hangover, but managing to snag a few kills away from Mundy, whose fist clenched in playful competition. This went on until sunrise, with Mundy’s kills neatly stashed away, arranged in size from horn to tail, while Tavish’s, to be expected, were a bit messier, generally with jaw and claw marks lining the neck, instead of Mundy’s neat little headshots. Helen was impressed, a faint smile causing her gaunt cheeks to crease. She lik
Four Daughters (Medic x MTF Heavy)
(I wanted to take a shot at writing a transgender fic. I don't think Heavy is trans in canon, but I thought it would be interesting to have a biologically male character, one who who embodies masculinity, to actually see themselves as female.)
Zhanna was getting married. Much care had been taken to tailor her wedding to her and Jane’s specifications, down to little bowties for each and every raccoon, and Misha should have been excited. But something clicked inside of him, something he had been aggressively trying to deny for decades. He saw the way his mother and sisters fit into their dresses, and how beautiful they looked, agonizing over their makeup, their hair, while he stuffed himself into an old, ill-fitting suit. That night, he couldn’t sleep.
Heavy generally slept like a baby, unless something was terribly wrong. Even his breathing sounded off, labored, as if a heavy weight was lying on top of it. There was a shuffling of the mattress as Medic rolled over, lightly shaking Heavy’s shoulder. He was whispering to himself, over and over. Whispering that he was a big, strong, giant man.
“Are you alright?”
“It is hard to say, Doktor. I cannot explain. It hurts. Is not so much like bullet holes. Different.”
“Interesting. Vhat for?”
I think this is the only transsexual Heavy I've ever seen written, and written thoughtfully at that! Well done. I especially appreciated the line "What is underneath would not be the same", since this observes that transsexualism isn't about clothes. I also liked how you described Heavy's breathing using the simile "as if a heavy weight was lying on top of it", and appealed to the senses with "There was a shuffling of the mattress".
There's a small thing about this fic which reads a little awkwardly to me: the speed at which Medic concludes that Heavy is a woman, and immediately suggests preparing hormones and surgery. I'm not sure he necessarily had enough information to go on to determine that a) Heavy is transsexual, and b) she wanted hormones and surgery. If he already had suspicions (which he might well, given how smoothly he took it), a paragraph or two focusing on what he's noticed in the past would improve the cohesion of the story.
Overall, it's incredibly refreshing to see a story which acknowledges that being a human tank (or having any other physical shape, for that matter) doesn't disqualify a person from being trans. Thankyou for writing!
New board + new thread = copy pasta of old stuff that I was sort of working on.
The now ex-Pyro stared back like a deer in the headlights, her mouth opening and closing several times before any words could come out. "What? Why?"
The Announcer rolled her eyes and exhaled a long stream of smoke. "It's in the rulebook under 'Don't Have Sex With the Enemy'. Look it up."
"I am well aware of the so-called 'extenuating circumstances', because otherwise you would have just been shown the door with no hope of ever regaining meaningful employment anywhere in the world. All the arrangements have already been made." The Announcer gestured, and the suited escorts made their presence known once more. "Your personal affects will be sent to you via parcel post."
The Announcer drummed her fingers on the table while she waited for the room to clear, tuning out the feeble protests. Then she pressed the buzzer to call the next offender into her office.
The first time the Pyro failed to return to base along with the rest of the team, they had assumed that she was chasing down stragglers to give them one last well-deserved toasting before the round ended and went about their business. It wasn't until almost a week later, when a thorough search of the territories they controlled turned up empty that any of them thought to check the video feeds being sent back to Headquarters for evaluation, and that was when they realized that the last mission the Pyro was seen participating in had been a trap laid by the other side to capture her.
Also, would you take new submissions for fanfic? I'm looking for feedback on my work.
Given how many free options there are around these days, it would take some pretty extraordinary circumstances for me to host someone else at this point. But I would be willing to read your story and offer feedback. Shoot it to me in an email with [Not Spam] in the subject line and I'll take a look at it.
Hope you feel that creative spark again soon. The chan feels weird without you around.
Thanks! It feels weird to not hang out in 'chan, either. (Heck, "chan" is even part of my pen name!)
Ah. Alright. I was just looking for some free exposure, and I've been told that if I want my writing and art taken seriously, I can't show my prospective employers my Tumblr.
Still creatively dead-ish (I did spawn a few plot bunnies while laid up sick in bed with a nasty upper respiratory tract infection, but none of them are TF2-related, alas), but I finally got around to finishing the content integration and switched to the new look (voted for by you all).
In addition to all of the original content that was in the old gallery, I found some fanart that I never scanned in and added that as well, so please drop by http://dotchan.com to take a look at it all (insert epeen joke here).
Dearest TF2chanlings, whilst working on a t-shirt design, I found this gem of a "wtf-fic" on the Steam forums.
"The TF2's have dinner" by Bobby Road.
They go to TGIF.
Scout orders a pepsi and a chicken nugget.
Soldier has a beer and steak.
Pyro just drink.
Demoman has pasta and alcohol drink.
Heavy orders two things cause he is fat.
Engineer a briskit.
Medic is eat fried steak.
Sniper has fried steak too, its good. And coffee cause he's tired.
Spy has oyster and French drink.
Honestly I could just imagine Engineer's a briskit. It's just so damn funny I'll laugh myself to Half-Life 3
SO WHO REMEMBERS THIS RIDICULOUSLY LONG TF2 FANFIC THAT I STARTED WRITING LITERALLY YEARS AGO AND STILL HAVEN’T FINISHED YET? BECAUSE I FINISHED A NEW CHAPTER.
If you haven’t read the rest of this series, you can find it here: http://tf2chan.net/fanfic/res/657.html
You should probably read the other chapters first, or the stuff happening in this chapter won’t make a whole lot of sense. That thread stopped bumping ages ago because it went over the post limit, so here you go, have a new thread. Comment in this one, not the old one, or I probably won't see it, and that would make me very sad indeed.
Someone paid me to write this, I should mention. I’ve been wanting to do it for a long time but unfortunately I just haven’t felt as though I have time for anything that I’m not getting paid for recently, so if it wasn’t for the wonderful person who paid me real, actual money to finish a new chapter in this fic, it would probably never have happened.
I want to finish the whole thing - there’s at least one more chapter to come - but I don’t know how long it’s going to take for it to happen. I’m sorry for that. Things are getting better now, so I’ll do my best.
Just enjoy what I have managed to write in the meantime, okay? Thanks for being so patient, everyone, and if you want to catch up with me at all you can find me far more easily at drtanner.tumblr.com, or alternatively, at drtanner-sfw.tumblr.com if you prefer your blogging experience not to be full of men's asses and dicks and men kissing other men.
I love you.
I am just... so glad to see this updated
And Ill admit this got a few fat tears from me
Im horribly tempted to go reread the rest of the Lessons now, but I dont know if I can handle all that heartbreak in one go
(Author's Note:) I'd always suspected the Medic was based on the many infamous mad doctors from Germany during WW2, and after learning of the game's time period, it only confirmed it for me. I guess you could call this somewhat of a "head cannon" to the Medic's backstory.
The Hippocratic Oath states: "First, do no harm." That's the solemn vow every medical practitioner must make. It's a promise to retain the health of the people, to preserve their life and not cause any additional harm of your own. It's an oath I have taken, and it's the oath I live by; just as my father did before me. I was no more than a young boy when I took that oath, and I will forever remember the day my father did the honor of initiating me into the world of medicine.
My father was rarely at home when I was young. Practically from the moment of my birth, he was gone on long trips of business for months on end. I only saw him on the holidays, or the sparse few weeks he would return to our cottage outside of Stuttgart to be with us. My mother explained very early on that I should be proud of my father's absence, because the reason for it was his respected position as a surgeon; travelling to various cites all across Germany and Austria to heal people who needed him.
Due to this, I would eagerly await my father's return so I could ask him about all the places he had visited and the people he had saved. I don't know why I did in retrospect, because he never answered any of my questions. All he would do when I asked him about his travels was pat my head and hand me a gift he had bought me from where he had been. Despite this, I kept asking. When time after time yielded no results, I changed my inquiries from questions about his travels, to requests to join him on his travels. I wanted to see these places myself if he wouldn't tell me himself.
The first time I asked him, I was met with a harsh rejection. He told me I was too young to go anywhere but school, and then left the next morning. Still, I never stopped asking. For years I per
Medic isn't a Nazi (at least that much was confirmed by Valve), so I've always figured he had no sense of superiority. At least, not racial superiority.
I've got two questions:
1) Why keep "gutes tun" in German? Since I'm assuming the entire dialogue is in German, having that bit there kind of breaks immersion.
2) Where's a little bit of Black Humor and Mood Whiplash to balance the starkness of the narrative? That's something I believe should be present in every Team Fortress 2 'fic regardless of topic or tone. Additionally, Valve said Medic isn't a Nazi precisely (despite his admittedly rather Nazi-like trappings) because they couldn't figure out how to make that funny--so if that's going to be the headcanon of your Medic, I think it behooves you to find a way to succeed where Valve failed.
Good evening, TF2chan! Some of you may remember me from way back on page 5 of this board; I drifted away from the fandom and then came rushing back a month ago. I'm a bit sad to see this board pretty dead in the water (are you guys all over on Tumblr now or something?), so as a sort of apology for the fact that I never finished the one where Medic gets sick and hilarity ensues, here's a fic I wrote several years ago and then just recently went back and overhauled.
It's based completely unashamedly on the song Strange Day In Berlin by Sally Oldfield, and contains loads of melodrama and mentions of Heavy/Medic. Hope you enjoy!
It was an unusual evening in Stuttgart, and it was going to rain. Throughout the day the clouds had piled up over the city, and now they stood arrayed like battleships along the horizon, waiting for some unknown signal. The air was electric. Down below, the city could sense the gathering storm, and its people drew their coats a little tighter, gripped their children’s hands a little harder as they hurried to get home before the calm broke.
From the table outside the old café, the man sat and watched. He had been there for some time. The remnants of the spring breeze ran its earthy fingers through his greying hair. He held the day’s paper in calloused hands, though there was little in it of note. Faint scars spread up his bare forearms and spoke of a more interesting past than did the grey waistcoat and severe glasses. The coffee by his elbow was long since cold, but he didn’t order another. Instead he sat, and he watched, and he waited, as the streets emptied and the shadows grew longer.
Finally, when the night had swallowed the last of the light and silence descended, a figure formed itself out of the darkness between the streetlamps and took on the shape of a man. He wore a well-cut suit and an air of secrecy, and he took the vacant seat outside the café.
“You’re late,” said the grey-haired man after some time, not looking up from the paper. “I’ve been here all day.”
“My apologies,” said the man in the suit, and his German was impeccable but
Wow I love this so far, I'm so happy to see someone posting here, thank you so much <3 Can't wait to read on, I hope you stick with it! So wonderful and descriptive and you've made me so curious to find out what happens next!
Here's an anon that's namefagging. Hey there. I started this back in September and have been messing with it for awhile. I'm kind of stuck at the moment, and since the chan was wiped and we're super deprived of fanfic at the moment, I thought it might be a decent time to post a couple chapters and see if it's worth continuing. It's my first fic ever, and I don't normally consider myself a writer, so I'm curious to see if this is up to par or not.
It was originally written for Halloween, but now that that holiday has come and gone I guess I don't know. I would say that it's in the same sort of genre as Eximplode's 'The Nucleus Incident', but I don't want to be presumptuous enough to compare myself to that fic. Okay enough blah blah here's some story.
It started when the Soldier died.
Actually, it could have started when the Sniper came back from a hunt with a mauled forearm, claiming he was attacked by some sort of rabid coyote. Or it could have started when the supply trucks stopped coming in, which had forced Sniper to go hunt up some game in order to feed the team in the first place. It could have even started with their transfer to Harvest in the beginning of October. Something had felt off from the beginning, the Scout had said so often. But the Soldier’s death was the first time the team realized something strange was happening.
It wasn’t the death that was surprising; it had taken some time, but the employees of both RED and BLU were accustomed to their unique existence thanks to the mysterious Respawn Rooms located in all of their bases. Death was, at worst, a painful nuisance. No matter how gruesome their fate, the team members would always reappear in Respawn, good as new, ready to fight again. After awhile battle tactics had adjusted to account for Respawn, and the Soldier especially relied on it during his many screaming kamakazie attacks on the enemy REDs.
So it wasn’t a surprise to anyone that the Soldier had died. The surprise was that he stayed dead. The Scout had stumbled upon the body after ceasefire, when the teams were returning to their b
As a disclaimer, if M. Gui or the mods ever see fit to remove this, that's perfectly fine. In no way, do I think this will ever replace the original stories intended ending. The sole reason for wanting to adopt this story was as homage to the original story and author, and to give closure to an intriguing fic.
This will likely have a few installments, as it would be a sin to end this in a neat one post package. I'll try to write an installment everyday.
Hope you guys enjoy! It's been few years since I wrote for TF2/accents, so my apologies for any mistakes.
Their life they had built at Tuefort had seemed like a pipe dream from the very start. They had no idea what they had forged there would be in jeopardy so quickly though. In hind sight, perhaps eating the REDs as well as their own team mates had been a bad idea. Though, these new BLUs had never really been considered part of their team; rather, no more than a new food source and a way to blend in.
As much as Engineer tried to convince himself and his two team mates otherwise... they were monsters. And now both teams were getting wise to that fact as well. The Texan would have liked to have blamed it all on his two water loving team mates, who had never seen anything wrong about preying off those around them, but he too was at fault. Perhaps more so.
Medic had grown wise to the missing blood, and had stopped storing new samples. Without that ready supply, Engineer couldn't stop his hunger, and in a fit of fury and starvation, he had ripped out the throat of an enemy Scout in broad daylight, surrounded by team colors of both sides. Exposing himself as not only a threat; but as a monster as his exposed skin started to crisp and wither to the bone, in the day's heat.
It was that event that now found the three hurriedly making their way through the sewers of Tuefort, and back towards the pipes that had originally brought them here. Perhaps this was for the best. They had been growing bored of life here; and being called out as monsters had reminded them of what they had left behind. If they had any chance of reclaiming their past lives and h
When they arrived in the aqua-filter beneath the point of Harvest, it was already morning. Being underground the Spook and Aussie had to take the Texans' word, when he said that he could feel the sun had risen. It had been a long swim back to this place. One they almost hadn't all made.
Though the Sniper could hold his breath for quite a long time, he did need to breath eventually. The first time they had gone through, there had been openings every so often, that the werecroc could stick his snout up to, to refill his lungs. The water must have risen since there last trip through, and there had been some panic in the pipes when the bushman couldn't find air.
Luckily they had found an air pocket further along the pipes... though Engineer and Spy were mostly dragging him at that point. They were still closer to Tuefort by then, that had the Aussie drowned, he would have respawned back there. It had been a close call, that no one wished repeating. After that, the Spy had swam ahead, scouting out breathing holes for his comrade.
Now in Harvest, Engineer had assured them that if they died, it would be this respawn that would pick them up... not that his words held much comfort. They all still believed it was the respawn that had originally made them this way, and no one wanted to see what would change about them next, if they were to die again. What they might become.
"I guess we could hole up here till the sun goes down." The Engineer sighed, tilting his head back as he studied the ladder and opening high above them.
A fic about sniper fishing near a lake and stumbles upon tentaspy. First encounter went with sniper accidentally falling through a cave and tentaspy attacking him. He does not kill sniper however and returns him safely back to the lake. Second encounter is when tentaspy got injured and sniper offered him a bucket of fish. Third encounter, sniper went spelunking and got lost in the cave, and spy offered help... oh yeah, there's also hot springs and backstory of spy suffering from the experiments
Apologies, for the lack of spoiler warnings...sorry about that :(
Hey guys, a few weeks ago a fic was deleted and I was hoping if someone knew either if it has been posted somewhere else or maybe why it was deleted?
I can't remember the name of it for the life of me, but it was a series of one-shots about a fem!RED pyro and her interactions with the team. It's a bit of a typical OOC fic, but if you've found it, or anything like it, I'd appreciate it!
>>12 Thank you so much! That means a whole lot to me! Thank you!
Hey everybody! The last thread for Afterwards is now no longer bumping, so it's time for a new thread.
Don't forget to read Reunion here: http://dotchan.com/?p=1876
And Afterwards parts 1-12 here: http://dotchan.com/?p=2096
Sorry about the amount of time that goes between updates, hopefully the wait will be shorter next time.
“… And that’s about everything I know about it, really.” Engineer gave a sigh. “I was hopin’ this would be about where you’d come in…”
“I see,” said Ilse. She took a sip of her coffee, her expression hard to read; straight-faced as usual. “Zis is all… very interesting.”
My internet was out last night, but it hasn't been out. And yes, I did sell some artwork at a con this year, and hope to sell more later this year. And no, I didn't update and not put it on the chan.
Honestly I feel like I have bitten off way more than I can chew with this story and I am becoming more doubtful that I'll ever finish. I've lost a lot of my enthusiasm for the story and each update ends up leaving me scrambling to keep up with it as far as my characterization is concerned. That, and I've been finding it hard to get motivated to do much of anything lately.
I don't know if I'm going to work on it. I guess it's on hiatus.
If I change my mind, I'll let you guys know.
Summary: a prior RED team discovers something sinister going on at their base.
Apologies if the prologue is too long...i wanted to channel current TF2 events to lead into this one
Prologue: Australia at Night
Four figures sit around a campfire, roasting chunks of bear meat and 35 year old hot dogs on wattle sticks. Surrounding them is the vast darkness of the Australian Outback at night. In the distance, a dingo howls, and the youngest of the group, the Scout, darts his eyes nervously.
"Aww geez," he whines. "Why couldn't've Snipes come from someplace nicer...like with butterflies or fluffy bunnies?"
The large bald man from across from him, the Heavy, gives an amused smile. "Would like to be in Russia again? Leetle dog here like mouse to bear at home."
"No way!" Scout snaps, almost dropping his hot dog into the fire. "That was freakin' scary and I never wanna go back! Besides, it's way warmer here." He brings the link out of the flames, examining it for any hint of rawness before taking a bite from the end.
"Kid's got a point," Soldier smacks between mouthfuls of bear jerky. "I wouldn't set foot in your country even if it was a democracy. Though I am gonna miss the brunette with the nice bazooms."
ag ack! I'm so stupid for leaving that out...a lapse of judgment on my part because i thought the prologue was long enough as it is...-derping so hard right now-
Anyways, the way first chapter is going, there's going to be quite a lot of reading meat for you to sink teeth in, I promise.
apologies for the long wait, other events came up in life. Chapter 1 is also going to be a 2 parter, as i am currently restructuring the second half of the story. Enjoy
[b]Chapter 1: The New Medic (part one)
1964. It was the year Britain invaded America with fresh hip music, while America sent her young men to Vietnam. Hippies didn't exist in that time; instead they were called "conscientious objectors" and bathed regularly. The Civil Rights Movement was in full swing and they had just scored a victory with the Civil Rights Act of 1964, guaranteeing that no one wouldn't be discriminated against based on race, color, religion, sex, or national origin. But in spite of being an era of change, one feud chose to stay constant for almost a hundred years.
In the barren deserts of New Mexico, Redmond and Blutarch Mann continue their unending battle over the control of their father's lands, using hired mercenaries to carry out their dirty work. The 18 men are lorded over by a chain-smoking harpy of a woman named Helen, known more by her title of Administrator. She takes great pride in watching them blow each other up, while keeping neutral to her bosses.
But the story does not begin there as it normally would. Instead, it takes place hundreds of miles to the north and east, in the state of Wisconsin. A land of beer, cheese and savage wilderness, Wisconsin was a perfect storm of harsh conditions--from below freezing, blizzard weather in the winter, to hot, mosquito infested summers. Located in the central part of the state is Adams County, a rural area with equal parts farmland and thick pine forest. In one such dense forest, an old gravel logging trail leads to a forbidding chain link fence topped with both barbed and electrified wire. A sign on the gate warns that the area belongs to TF Industries, and trespassing is punishable by death. Through the gate, the road travels almost a mile before it splits in two; each one leading to opposite sides of a clearing where there are two large dairy barns-one red and one blue- situated about 50 apart from each other. They, too, are surrounded by a 10 foot fence of sheet metal wit
I can't remember where it was from, but basically it is after the war and the mercs all get together. Pyro has dies and Medic steals the body to analyse it.
Turns out that pyro was a robot the whole time and Engie is devastated
I would appreciate it if anyone knows this one, I have been looking for it forever...
I guess this is the fic you are looking for :)
Eh, I wanted to edit those chapters, anyway. One more time with feeling!
A mysterious woman in blue recruits the nine classes
Devil With A Blue Dress
“I got the German; it wasn’t difficult.”
The woman in blue glanced at her left arm where a bandage was hidden beneath her jacket’s sleeve.
"The man in the red suit closed his eyes and let out a sigh, his features losing their ferocity as the intensity evaporated from him. When he opened his eyes again and met hers, a weary sadness bordered his words. 'Why, petite? Why?'"
Excuse me for a moment while my heart breaks...
I don't know how to explain myself without sounding like an utter sap, but this was sad.
Not gut wrenchingly boohoo sad, but a subtle pull at the heartstrings, just enough for it to hurt.
This was worth the wait, in my opinion, but right now I'm at the edge of my seat for Scout's story.
Ever since finding out who the mysterious blue woman was, his is the one I'm anticipating the most.
Hello, here is a set of oneshots featuring what looks like a morning before a mission for each of the mercenaries. I start with The Sniper.
The sun's rays passed through the window and came tickling his eyelids. He always parked his van facing east, just as the rising sun could wake him without fault at the earliest hours of the day. Mundy passed mechanically hand over his eyes, to protect them from light. « Gah... »
Awakenings were always difficult when you slept badly and you were woken up earlier and earlier, blame it that fucking sun and fucking summer approaching. He scratched his cheek he hesitated to classify it between rough and prickly, yawned longly, snapped a few shots his doughy tongue and fumbled for a jar in the close proximity to his cramped couchette. Urge to piss and too lazy to go down and out. And then it will make him an extra weapon. The mere idea of swinging the jar on the suit of that fucking degenerate Frenchie gave him an even more pleasant relief. It was once down from his bunk that the Aussie could extend his long limbs and his six feet three inches. There's nothing to else to say, the van was a place where he could be cushy, travel wherever he wanted, cram 57 Asian cheap whores together into it, but for some real space, you can come back an another day. The smallness of his bed forced him to sleep legs bent and whenever he realized that it looked like a spycrab, it annoyed him so much that he chucked sleeping bag out and he was going to sleep on the roof.
Mundy mechanically sought something to peck in the reduced space where he put his canned food but his hand met only a beer. A Foster's, not one of those junks that other countries brew and worth even less than his piss, no, a real Australian beer. But this will not fill his stomach. He had to go out and hunt something. It turned out then be reduced to seek his clothes between his bed and sofa, sniff them in order to check the odor and inhaled the hints of gun powder, wet tissue, soil and urine, and the musky scent of his own sweat. Critters would smell him miles away, he had to place himself in the opposite direction to the wind, because he did not have the time or