Chapter One - A Good Night's Rest
The "Team Fortress" programme had been going on for years now. In the beginning it has just been Blutarch, Redmond and Grey Mann, years ago, before Team Fortress favourites like Saxton Hale were even born. After they got too old to successfully fight without self injury, and later were killed, the classes were formed. Abraham Lincoln, Fu Manchu and others formed a super team and fought to the death over and over again to keep the RED vs BLU tradition. But soon even they started to grow old and die off, and a new team was formed. The "Team Fortress" programme v2 consisted of nine classes, each so different in skills and personality to one another, plucked from every corner of the world. BLU fought RED, RED fought BLU and thus the pattern repeated, with a little extra help thrown in from Mann co, Saxton Hale, the mysterious Administrator, and many others. And when the new team gets old and crippled, another group of fighters will take their place, and so the Team Fortress programme continues. But until then, the classes known as the v2s still remained, nine of them to be exact.
Known during work as only their code-names, which are coincidentally the same as their jobs, the v2s currently consist of the German medic Artur Kluge; the Texan engineer Dell Conagher, the Australian sniper Jack Mundy, the Russian heavy Weapons specialist Filip Bogdanskii, the French spy, Sebastién Couteu, the American soldier Anthony Pikeman (more commonly know as Sarge), the Scottish Demolitionist Tavish Degroot, the mysterious Pyromaniac only known as Pyro and the Scout, Bobby DeVito, from Boston. Though teams RED and BLU differ slightly in personality, the classes are generally the same on either side, but for this story were going to focus generally on RED team.
It was mid-autumn, and the chill was starting to set in as the nights grew longer and the fights grew wearier. However, the matches must still go on, and RED had just finished one, albeit with a sorry loss of being beaten 10-0 by the opposing team, and the only solution to cheer everyone up seemed to be a game of poker. Though Bobby didn't quite understand the game and kept getting things wrong, the other older and more experienced team members played solidly for the rest of the night, eventually downing more and more alcohol and getting rowdier as the hours ticked away. Eventually getting bored, the young Mr DeVito scampered off some place to kill the hours, maybe even catch a quick nap on some rooftop where he was unlikely to be disturbed. A few nights before he'd the "whipped cream in the hand" trick on the sleeping Filip, which hasn't gone down well when the hulking mountain of a man rose from his sleep with whipped cream all over his face. Things would've got worse if Bobby hasn't have high-tailed it out of there as fast as his legs would carry him, and didn't want to take the risk of sleeping anywhere near the Russian monkey for a good week, at least. So for now at least, it appeared the youngest of the v2s would be sleeping elsewhere. But he had to keep on his toes whilst doing so; after all, sleep in the same place more than and they could very well finding his hiding spot while he slept innocently, causing all sorts of harm to his unconscious body. Though the fact that recently the classes had been moving areas a lot recently helped, Bobby still had to be intelligent about where he decided to spend the night.
Tonight they were occupying 2Fort, and Bobby knew the ins and outs of this place better than any of the other maps. He decided to sleep down near the Intel room, as it would not only provide somewhere right under his teammates's unsuspecting noses to camp out, but various means of escaping if someone were to find him. It wasn't the comfiest of places, but it was better than a midnight revenge tea bagging session, or whatever else Filip thought up. He curled up behind the Intel desk, which sheltered his smaller frame well enough to not be seen unless people were distinctly looking to find him there. And as midnight came, he flicked the light switches and curled up on the floor behind the desk to try and catch a few winks of sleep.
"Clunk"
Bobby opened one eye, curiously. It was doubtful that that noise was anything at all, but he had to stay on his toes at all times. He waited, dead still and head cocked to hear another noise.
"Scritch scritch scritch"
He sat bolt upright. There was definatley something around: Bobby didn't know exactly what it who quite yet, but he knew SOMETHING was snooping around. A hacking cough and some stumbled footsteps resonated from the corridor to the side, followed by a loud clang of someone hitting the lockers - hard - and then heavily accented, and very slurred, swears.
"Aye, ye fucking... lockers!" - followed by anther loud crash and the pleasant sound of a far too drunk Scottish man retching up the alcohol he'd just spent all night carelessly chugging away at. Bobby rolled his eyes and decided that he might as well tell Tavish to go get some sleep, or at least kick the lousy drunk out of his bedroom for that night. "Ay, you frickin' drunk, get out of here!" He shooed, pushing the Demo up the stairs until he waddled away, cursing intoxicatedly. Bobby let out a sigh of relief and returned to his sleeping area, the beeping and whirring of computers disturbing his thoughts until he started to get used to them, but then-
"Chink chink... CLANG"
With the final noise Bobby jumped up to his feet in a half-sleep that left his sight whirling and his head cloudy. After steadying himself, he decided that investigating the source of this mysterious noise would be for the best. It was around three in the morning, and most of the other team were probably asleep by now, so whoever or whatever was making that noise had to be gotten rid of if Bobby were to get any sleep. Similar sounds followed, getting louder as he made his way outside the Intel room. He took one final slow step into the neighbouring area, with the dried vomit of Tavish still upon the ground in the corner. Gagging at the smell, Bobby heard the familiar "clang" once again, and quickly turned back, and he saw a figure in the distance. He couldn't make out the face or the body too well, maybe because of the dark or maybe because he was still half-asleep, but he could tell it was a girl around his age. "H...Hey!" He called out, but before he could even finish the word the girl had spotted him, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights, and she fled. No problem, he thought to himself. Bobby was the fastest in the whole programme, he could easily catch up with some mysterious girl. She had disappeared up the steps that lead to a small courtyard outside and then to the main building, and so that's where Bobby set off to, but when he got there the girl was gone. He blinked and scoped the area, investigating the corridors surrounding the courtyard and the whole of the RED team main building. Again, he couldn't see any sight of the strange girl. It was as though she'd disappeared into the air itself. With the confusion of that playing at his mind, Bobby decided to retire one last time to the Intel room to get some well-deserved rest and trying to let the sight of that mysterious girl leave his mind.
-author's notes-
Hey all! I just hope that you all like this, if anybody actually reads it at all OTL. Just want to say, please hold back on the flaming, I love TF2 and play it religiously but I'm not too down there with the backstory and whatnot, so if I got any of that wrong in the first paragraph, don't yell at me! Just inform me nicely and I'll change it C:
Hope you like!
-Looby