1 . Name: stubs @ 2011-07-28 21:19

WELL. Hello there tf2chan! I come to you once again, this time with a collab between myself and the fantastic Iz. Over the past few weeks we've been rping, and so I've got her blessing in cleaning up some of our logs, filling in anything that needs filling in, and posting it up here.
She's the Spy and I'm the Engie, so enjoy.

--

His heart raced as he ran through the sewer line. The RED Spy knew it was impossible to walk through the murky water quietly, and so just said ‘Et puis merde’ and ran until he was nearer the back entrance to the BLU Engineer’s workshop. Here he walked more slowly and quietly, so as not to alert the tinkerer past the door. As silent as possible, he approached the door, listening closely for any sounds of activity on the other side. All he heard was snoring, and a smirk graced those devilish French lips. Trop facile. With the quick precision his trade brought, he picked the lock and slipped inside.

There was the Engineer sleeping in the corner, slumped over his workbench. In the other corner was an apparently dormant level 3 sentry, shut down for the night. Soon to be shut down forever, if Spy had anything to say about it. He crossed the room on tiptoe, and popped the back panel on the sentry. Following the instructions of the RED Engineer to the letter, he began crossing and disconnecting wires, with the intention of disabling the metal menace for good.

Engie, ever the light sleeper, was awake in an instant. The sound of the back panel of his sentry coming free from the machine had been what woke him. But he didn't dare move, just laid there with his eyes closed. What Spy was messing with wasn't anything important anyways - just a new design for a sentry that didn't even work yet. He had to alter the blueprints anyways, so he'd just rebuild it and fix its little problems until it worked for him.

He wasn't doing much harm, but still, an enemy Spy is never a good thing to have in the BLU base. Engie thought of what he had on his bench that could be used as a weapon. His wrench was across the room, set on top of his tool box. His shotgun was on the work bench, but on the opposite end of it, outside of his reach. All he had was his Gunslinger, which was no good unless he could right close to the Spy, not necessarily an option, and a few bits of scrap metal strewn about the table. Looks like he was going to have to get close to the Spy.

He slid off his chair, and moved closer to the Spy as fast as his stocky form would allow, hoping that the Frenchman remained distracted for at least a moment more.

A few more wires were netted and crossed, as per the RED Engineer’s instructions. Hopefully this would take it down for good, leaving the BLUs without as strong a defence until the Engineer could build a new one.

The Engineer… something in this thought made Spy look up at where the Engineer slept, or rather, where he was no longer sleeping. Quick as lightning, without even truly seeing where his enemy was in the near-darkness, he jumped past the sentry, and activated his cloaking device, ducking himself into a corner. With any luck, he could slip away when the Engineer ran off for reinforcements.

Engie knew that killing Spies was something he should have left to Pyro, but it made his skin crawl to think that the Spy could have done this before, on another night when he'd been working late and had been in a deeper sleep. This was personal.

He went to the end of the workbench and picked up his shotgun and shoved a handful of shells into a pocket in his tool belt. Then he backed towards the door, standing with his back to it. That cowardly Spy couldn't escape with him blocking the door.

Merde! Spy thought.

His only other escape route was the back door, leading into the sewers, and the Engineer would surely be able to chase him down in there. He was stuck. If he fired his gun, the rest of the BLU’s would be alerted. He would have to get behind the Engineer in order to properly use his knife, but that would be impossible with his back pressed against the door. His disguise kit would obviously be of no use, unless he decided to look like a moron and attempt to bludgeon the Engineer with it. The only tool he had available was his cloaking device. So long as he did not move, it would not run out. All he had to do was wait the Engineer out.

Engineer knew the game Spy was playing. He'd played it with Spies before, on other bases, in different workshops. He knew that if he went to go get Pyro to 'light a fire under his ass,' the Spy would sneak off in the time in took him to go find him. If he was someone else, Scout or demo or Soldier maybe, he'd shoot all around the room until he either hit the Spy or ran out of bullets. But he wasn't them, and being the calm, collected, diplomatic intellectual he was, he chose instead to do it a different way.

"Spah," he said. "I got ya cornered, there ain't no way you can get out. But if ya leave peacefully n' visibly, I won't shoot ya."

Des conneries. Spy thought. Like hell he wouldn’t shoot him. The second he decloaked, he’d find a bullet in his brain. Granted, he would simply respawn in the morning, but it was the humiliation of it all that would bother him. Spies bested Engineers, not the other way ‘round. No. He could wait. Soon the Engineer would grow tired, or hungry, or perhaps even bored. He could wait all night if it meant leaving BLU base with his skull and dignity intact.

"Well, if yer wantin' to do it the hard way so badly..." He mumbled, after waiting a good five minutes without getting an answer.

He went to his work bench and shoved some things aside until he found what he was looking for. An in-progress unpolished version of a possible future weapon, it would do the job well enough. He held a gun similar to the Sniper's submachine gun, except a bit chunkier. He aimed it at the sentry against the wall, the one with the cover off it and the guts spilling out. He began firing experimentally around it, leaving splatters of blue paint wherever he hit. A gun loaded with blobs of blue paint encased in a thin membrane of plastic that would explode on impact - all he had to do was keep firing until a blue splatter hit thin air.

Spy held his breath. A paint gun. There was no way in hell that he could be brought down by a paint gun. The mere thought of it was embarrassing. Moving slowly, he crouched, picking up a small piece a metal from the floor. He tossed it near the back door, hoping the Engineer would think him trying to open the door, and waste his ammo over there instead.

Engie knew better than to fire where he'd heard the clattering metallic noise. He didn't just leave metal lying around his workshop, after all. It was, for the most part, stacked in an area centralized to the floor on the other side of the workbench from him. So he shifted his aim to that area, firing along the wall in-between the two spots for good measure. It took six splatters of paint against the wall before he heard an 'oof!' and the paint hit thin air.

Spy was pushed up against the wall from the pressure of the paint pellet, where it hit his chest. The shock of it made him slide down onto his ass, as well. It wasn’t as painful as actually being shot, but damn, it still hurt. He was instantly decloaked, and looked down at his suit briefly, feeling annoyed at the blue goop staining the lapels of his suit. He looked up at the Engineer, his annoyance evident, even past his mask.

“Salut, partner.” He wheezed, lungs still reeling from the blast.

Engie walked over to him slowly, and reached down, grabbing him by the throat and yanking him to his feet, pushed against the wall.

"Howdy."

Spy gagged when the Engineer hauled him up, but was only briefly incapacitated. He reached into his jacket, where his holster was hidden, and moved to pull out his revolver. He knew he couldn’t get a proper backstab with the Engineer’s girth between him and his spine, so it was his only option. BLU team be damned. He just hoped he could run back through the sewers quick enough.

Engie's Gunslinger came up and put a stop to that plan soon enough. It gripped him firmly by the wrist in which he held his revolver and squeezed, gradually becoming tighter around Spy's bony wrist. He'd keep this up, hopefully until he dropped his revolver.

Spy grunted with the effort to hold onto his revolver, eventually losing the battle. The pristine gun clattered to the floor, his wrist rendered absolutely useless. It was a mistake from which he would not recover. His balisong was hidden up his right sleeve, which was held in the Engineer’s iron grip. In an act of pathetic desperation, Spy reached his left hand into the other side of his jacket, fished out his disguise kit, and proceeded to whack the Engineer in the side of the face with it.

Engie ducked his head to avoid the hilarious last-ditch defence of the Spy, giving low chuckles the whole time. His grip on the Spy's neck tightened too, pressing him harder against the wall.

Oh, now he was laughing at him. This was just adding insult to injury. Spy felt the hand at his throat clamp down even more, and he let his disguise kit drop to the floor, in favour of grabbing at the Engineer’s hand. Desperately he tried to pry it away, coughing and gasping. He didn’t have great lungs to begin with, and they weren’t getting near enough air now. It wouldn’t be long before he passed out. Weakly, he tried to bat the Engineer’s hand away, eyes starting to drift closed.

Now that Spy wasn't whacking him with his disguise kit, Engie loosened his hold on Spy's neck, allowing him to take in the amount of oxygen he needed.

"What's yer next move now, Spah?"

Spy panted, still coughing. He’d definitely have some bruises to explain to Medic in the morning, assuming he made it out of here without having to respawn. He honestly didn’t know what to do next, and so, did the only thing he could think of. He spat in the Engineer’s face.

Engie just paused a moment and chuckled. He reached up and wiped the gob of spit off his cheek with the rag he kept tucked into his belt.

"Y'know," he began, voice light and casual. "I was just gonna kill ya. But now I've got a much better idea."

Spy glanced around the workshop. Any one of those tools could be used to torture him. It wasn’t exactly a foreign concept to someone in his line of work, but it certainly wasn’t a pleasant thought. No matter what, though, he wouldn’t break. The information entrusted to him was not ill-placed. The Engineer could play whatever sick games he wanted. He would learn nothing from this Spy. He held his chin high, or rather, made the attempt to do so, finding it difficult with his neck still tightly held.

“Do your worst, labourer.”

While Spy looked around at the machines around him and scoffed, he was way far off the mark. The tools Engie planned to use on the Frenchman were his private ones, locked away in a secret compartment in the wall. The hand holding Spy's throat came off and he swiftly flipped the Frenchman so his face was ground into the wall.

Spy grunted when his cheek was pressed tightly into the concrete. His right arm was wrenched behind his back, and his left came up to keep him from being pushed into the wall further. He wasn’t entirely sure why the Engineer had turned him around. Perhaps he was simply one of those interrogators who couldn’t look their prey in the eyes.

His now-free hand went to the cord at his waist and he unravelled it, taking Spy's other wrist and yanking it up behind his back to join the other one. He then tied a deft knot in the cord, binding the Frenchman's arms behind his back.

The Engineer tied Spy’s hands behind his back, but not without a struggle. He twisted his arms about and tried to wiggle out of the stronger man’s grasp, to no avail.

“Lachez-moi, connard!” He spat into the wall as he cheek scraped against it, trying to look back at his captor.

Engineer pulled the Spy off the wall and brought him over to his work bench, hand holding his bound wrists firmly. He pushed aside his blueprints and tools, making sure anything Spy could use to cut himself free was out of reach. Then he lifted the slender Frenchman up and dropped him onto the workbench, rolling him onto his side so he couldn't just hop to his feet and run away. Then he went to the hidden compartment in his wall, a compartment he could only get open with the flat fingers of his Gunslinger.

Spy let himself become dead weight in the Engineer’s arms, hoping to slow him down, but considering how little that amount of weight was, it obviously didn’t work. Again he grunted, when he was placed on the workbench. His thin fingers worked to undo the knot, but his right hand was still largely useless, and so it went much slower than it normally would. The Engineer could build a sentry entirely out of rocks and still be back before his hands were free, at this rate. Spy groaned in frustration.

Engie picked a choice few items out of the compartment and brought them to the workbench, setting them down behind Spy so he couldn't see them.

"Alright," he said, more to himself than Spy. "First thing's first." His Gunslinger made quick work of Spy's suit jacket, ripping it from his body.

Spy gasped when his jacket was torn apart.

“Crétin! You will pay for zat!” He growled. He meant both literally and figuratively. This suit was expensive. At least the uncultured swine had left him his shirt and waistcoat thus far.

A metal clatter was heard when the jacket’s tattered remains fell to the floor. Spy’s balisong, concealed in what was left of the right sleeve of the jacket. His last remaining weapon, save for his wits, was now far out of reach, and he knew he was completely at the mercy of this man.

When Engie heard the knife clatter to the floor, he chuckled.

"Almost forgot about that little baby," he said, and removed the rest of the materials covering Spy's top half in the same manner he'd removed the jacket. He tossed the tattered remains to the floor.

The cold of the room started to seep into Spy’s now bare chest, or perhaps it was fear from the gravity of this situation finally seeping in. Either way, he tried his best to fight off the shivers that threatened to wrack his small frame. He would not look weak in front of the enemy.

“Eef you zink stripping me is going to make me talk, monsieur, you are sorely mistaken.” He almost chuckled, but feared it would come out as a whimper.

"Oh, son," he chuckled, as if this suggestion was adorably naïve. "I'm gonna do more'n strip ya." He went to work on Spy's pants, then, unbuttoning them for ease of removal, then yanking them down his hips.

It all started to make sense when the Engineer began removing Spy’s pants. His eyes widened in horror, and the scathing, witty remark he was about to spit out died on his tongue. Dear god, he was going to rape him. Spy was deathly still for a moment while this fact sunk in, then started to thrash with renewed vigour, flailing his legs wildly about, striking out at whatever he could hit, hurling French obscenities all the while.

Spy mostly just hit at his sides and his belly, a couple of times, but he got in a lucky shot and caught Engie square in the jaw, making him rethink being so generous to the Spy. This time, he decided to change that. As soon as he got the Spy's pants off, he went to the hole in the wall once again, coming out with a new piece of equipment; a long metal bar with a cuff on each end. He brought it over to the bench and took hold of one of Spy's ankles, cuffing it into place.

Even after the Engineer had left his side, Spy kept flailing, quickly exhausting himself in his efforts to get free. By the time the BLU had come back, he could barely put up any sort of fight as his ankle was cuffed to some sort of metal bar.

“What eez zat? What are you doing?” He panted, trying to cross his legs, suddenly self-conscious about being in nothing but his underwear and balaclava in front of this depraved man.

"S'called a spreader bar, Spah." Engie said, cuffing his other ankle in with ease. "It's to keep them long legs of yours apart." Once Spy was securely bound, he sat back and looked him up and down. He whistled. "Whoo-ee, don't you make a mighty pretty picture?"

Spy’s face reddened with rage. He finally managed to roll onto his back - not a painless endeavour considering the state of his wrist - and he glared at the Engineer.

“Vas te faire foutre, fils de pute.”

"I'm gonna pretend that's you askin' me to fuck ya." Engie said. "But not yet. Y'gotta be patient. I haven't even begun playin' with you."