Golden flames crackled, swirling, licking their greedy tongues at the air. A satisfying thud followed as a man fell to the ground. The other team's spy, killed for what seemed the ump-teenth time that day trying to sap the BLU engineer's sentry. Not that you minded. You always loved the thrill of the kill, the satisfying ring in your ears, and those beautiful flames. Not to mention helping your good friend. Turning around, you gave him a thumbs up. He returned the gesture, before going back to work on his machines.
You figured the match should be over soon as you hoisted yourself up onto a shiny new dispenser. Though you enjoyed them, these fights always wore you out. Especially recently.
Your stamina wasn't as high as when you first took this job.
Not that you would admit that you were getting old. Of course not.
Raising your hand above your already well shielded eyes, you looked to the sky. It was a nice day. The sky was as blue as a robin's egg and not a cloud in sight. Maybe after today's match you could all have a bonfire. Those were always fun. So long as scout didn't eat all of the hot dogs.
Absentmindedly, you flicked your flamethrower's air blast on. Chuckling as it blew your companion's construction hat clean off and into the dust, eliciting a few choice words. He wouldn't be angry for long, and you had to do something to pass the time. The REDs sure were sluggish today.
As the announcer pronounced the end of the match, BLU team having won, you heaved a sigh of relief. Your asbestos suit wasn't exactly the most comfortable thing to be wearing outdoors, especially on warm days such as this. Sure, there was a pleasant breeze, but it wasn't as if you could feel it. Standing up and stretching, you hoisted your flamethrower onto your back and began helping your friend gather his machines. You'd never understand how he assembled and dismantled them in such a short amount of time.
When the two of you returned to the base, your friends were all still in the after-match excitement phase, as they would be late into the evening. Bantering on and on about their kills of the day, boasting, and joking. They were like a family to you. A big, albeit odd, family.
Later in the evening, after having showered and changed into a more comfortable, lighter asbestos suit, you joined your friends back outside. The sky was a blanket of navy, indigo, and violet. Peaks of salmon were visible here and there, and stars were scattered across the expanse. A few wispy clouds drifted across the sky. It was a half moon. You always loved this time of night. Where you hailed from you could never see the sky so clearly. And it was so peaceful compared to the normally chaotic fire of gunshots and screaming that took place during the day. A light breeze blew by, ruffling the few patches that adorned your base.
Walking over and joining your comrades, you took your place between the sniper and engineer. Across from you, Heavy was telling a joke to Demoman. Medic laughed. Soldier was still going on about that day's match. Nobody listened. Scout was stuffing his face with food, as usual. Hopefully he didn't choke again, though that would have been comedic considering what had happened the last time. The spy was deep in a conversation with the sniper about fighting techniques. The engineer offered you a hot dog, and you nodded your thanks, patting him on the shoulder as well as you slightly lifted your mask with one hand, not quite taking all the way off. Just enough to eat. He resumed playing his guitar, and you gazed lazily at the swirling fire, listening to the crackling and popping of the flames in a content trance. The crickets sang their song.
All was peaceful.
You woke up at the crack of dawn each morning, just to spend your days killing and overheating. The housing was small and the beds were uncomfortable, and the pay wasn't as great as it could have been.
But at the end of the day, you wouldn't have traded that life for anything in the world.