CHAPTER 1
August 18-
"My Comrades still do not acknowledge me for my intellectual and strategic skill. They have interpreted that, based on the fact that I am in this disgusting rubber suit, and because all my attempts at conversation are perceived as idiotic mumbles and gibberish when expelled from my muffling, air filtering mask, that I myself am nothing but a monster armed with a flame-thrower and a mind for senseless blood-shed and 3rd degree burns! Recently they even went so far as to question my obvious masculine form! Just because I don't speak clearly doesn't mean these people can go spouting outlandish conspiracy theories! One of these days they will understand… "
The Pyro woke early in the morning to a delicious odor filtering through his mask. It was around 6 AM and the sun was first rising beyond the great mountain range surrounding the luxurious abode which he shared with the rest of the RED Team. As he rolled out of bed still wearing his rubber suit he had worn since the BLU/RED rivalry had begun, he wearily stretched his arm over to his night stand to grab a fresh air filter. He twisted it on with routine ease and made his way downstairs quietly. He noticed hardly anyone was awake and let them rest to prepare for the daily massacre that awaited them all.
As the Pyro made his way into the kitchen he noticed the Spy and the Engineer were the source of the palette whetting scents, originating from the mesmerizing morning meal that was being prepared: toast with jam and honey, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage links, and hot coffee. It was being prepared to an appropriately large scale in order to accommodate for the other teammates that would soon join them. The Pyro prepared his own special breakfast, a protein shake, with an added Vitamin C boost, and a bottle of water (to wash down the horrid taste of the protein shake,) He would on occasion drink hot coffee, but it would steam up under his mask and make vision impossible momentarily. In comparison to the gore-lined battlefield he would scorch day-in and day-out, the RED Mansion seemed peaceful. The Pyro was beginning to discuss strategies for the day's skirmishes with the Spy, but as the words left his lips he remembered that he was incomprehensible in the artificial second-skin he wore.
While the others woke and met downstairs for breakfast, the Pyro continued to filter his liquid- nourishment through his mask and read the Thursday paper. Nothing very special in the days news, everything was going to hell (the usual), and then something caught his eye. He tried to signal his team over, but to no success. He gave the engineer a pat on the shoulder to get his attention away from the plate of eggs sitting in front of him, and then passed him the paper, being sure to highlight the important article. The Engineer addressed him as if he were a dog bringing the morning paper in from the front step which, in a way, was true. "What's that you got there?" said the engineer in an almost patronizing voice, which turned more serious as he began to read the article "… what in the… what is this? ... Oh my God." He lowered the paper slowly, a smile creeping up each cheek. He stood up in his chair, let out a holler, and exclaimed "Hey everyone, WE WON!"