Jeremy was 18 when he first signed up to be apart of Mann Co. The ad was small in the newspaper with the other job offers, but he managed to catch it since the wording was much simpler than most of the others. All the ad stated was that they needed someone who could run fast, hit hard, and take a punch, which was right up his ally. He sent in a crappily handwritten resume and got an almost instant reply of "you're hired!"
When the day came for him to actually fly to Teufort, he began to second-guess the legitimacy of the job as he looked at the severely questionable plane that was set to be his assigned transport. Luckily, all it took was one look at the sum that he was going to be making every month for him to scramble up the steps and into his seat. It was there on the plane that Jeremy's life changed. The man on the plane had given him a debriefing on his new job and how it contained dying, fighting, and coming back to life thanks to a mysterious contraption known only as "Respawn".
"So lemme get this straight," Jeremy said as he shifted in his seat, "I'm getting paid to kill people, but nobody actually dies because of some mysterious technology that brings us back to life?"
"That is correct," the man replied. "As long as you are part of the team and are in the range, you will remain in respawn and won't have to worry about dying." Jeremy sat back in his seat and grinned as a new realization hit him.
"I'm gonna be freakin' invincible!" Jeremy exclaimed. He unintentionally tuned out the rest of the man's words as the plane made its way to the destination.
When the plane landed, Jeremy dashed out of the plane; he was ready to be on the ground since he wasn't able to do much on the small and sketchy plane. He dropped his one bag and stretched, and his back gave a few pops. He looked around at his new surroundings and smiled when he saw a group of a few other men standing around.
"Guess that's my team," Jeremy muttered to himself. With his bag back on his back, he made his way over to introduce himself. As he made his way over, his steps faltered slightly. There before him was one of the most intimidating men he had ever seen. He was head and shoulders over Jeremy and was easily as wide as three of Jeremy put together. He kept going and soon, the group turned to him when they noticed him. Jeremy kept a mental tally of who to watch out for. The big guy was definitely on his list, but he couldn't make good guesses on the others.
"Well hey there!" one man said as he made his way towards Jeremy. He was short, stout, and there was no doubt in Jeremy's mind that this man was from Texas. He had on cowboy boots, slacks with a button up shirt, and a ridiculously big ten-gallon cowboy hat. His accent was also thick with southern twang. The Texan extended his hand with a friendly smile. "I'm Dell Conagher, and you are?"
"Jeremy O'Brian," Jeremy said as they shook hands. "I'm guessing you're gonna be my teammate?" Jeremy was a little bit skeptical of what this guy could do, or if he could really hurt anybody. He seemed way too friendly to be a cold-blooded mercenary.
"What class are you gonna be?" Dell asked. Jeremy froze. Class? What did he mean by Class?
"I-err uhh..." Jeremy stuttered. "I definitely have a class name." He gave a nervous chuckle as a confused look spread across Dell's face.
"Are you sure you're in the right place son?" Dell crossed his arms and a darker expression took over the gentler one; Jeremy felt a shiver shoot up his spine as he caught a glimpse of the more dangerous side of the man before him. The other men turned to look at Jeremy as if he could be a potential threat.
"Excuse me, but this young… man will be your team's Scout," a voice said from being Jeremy. Everyone looked to see the man that had given the debriefing slowly making his way towards the group.
"Yeah!" Jeremy exclaimed. "What he said." Dell's face lit back up into the friendly Texan that Jeremy had first seen him as, and Dell clasped a hand on Jeremy's shoulder.
"Well, why didn't ya say so? I was afraid for a second that you were some sort of intruder."
"If I may have your attention please," the man called loud enough to catch everyone's attention. "I am Mr. Spirit, and I'm the Administrator's assistant. I will be over seeing your team's needs and records through out the month. The more matches you win, the greater your rewards, but the more you lose, the more you will be punished. You have each been debriefed according to your class as to what your purpose in each match will be. If you weren't paying attention," he stopped to make eye contact with Jeremy as a semi-direct call out, "then I suppose you will have to figure everything out yourself." He waved the group as a sign to follow him, and the group gathered their things and silently trailed.
"It is my understanding, Mr. Mundy, that you are to be living in your van on the premises?" Mr. Spirit asked.
"That's right," one of the men said. Jeremy turned to see that the owner of the voice was a tall, lanky and scruffy looking man. He had on a hat that almost seemed like a thin cowboy hat, but one side was pinned up. A pair of aviators hid his eyes.
"Excellent," Mr. Spirit continued. "Your van is by the company vehicle. You all will be taking the company vehicle to and from the match sights, but today, you will just be driving to your base. The coordinates are in the dash screen, and it will tell you how to get there. A shipment of your weapons, uniforms, and as well as other necessities will be coming within the week." They stopped by a worn down van that had "RED Bread" faintly written on the side. Mr. Spirit pulled open the doors and Jeremy cringed.
"You expect all eight of us to be crammed in there?" He demanded.
"No, I expect all nine of you to fit in there," Mr. Spirit replied, not phased one bit. "Your ninth team mate will be in within the week as well. This concludes your debriefing." With a small nod, Mr. Spirit began to walk away but stopped abruptly and turned. "One last thing!" he exclaimed. "The Administrator asks that you refer to each other by your class names only. It's for safety purposes of course." With this last piece of information, he left the odd band of individuals to figure out their next steps.
"So…" Jeremy said, breaking the silence, "should we get introductions out of the way now or…" He kept trailing off, hoping that someone else would jump in, but when he figured out that no one was going to start, he decided to take the reigns. "All right then, I'm Jeremy and your Scout." He waited for a response, but all he got was a few nods.
"I'm Dell Conagher, and I'll be your y'alls Engineer." That got the ball rolling. Each man said either their name and class or just their class, but eventually, the introductions were finished. With that, five members of the group crawled into the back of the bread van, two sat in the front, and the gangly Australian got behind the steering wheel of his beat up van. Jeremy crossed his arms, and tried not to pout. He had specifically called shotgun, but the one guy who would only introduce himself as Spy, pushed him out of the way and took the seat for himself.
For the most part, the trip was silent. Jeremy had tried to start a few conversations a couple of times, but he quickly got the hint that most of them were not in the mood for chitchat. The big guy, who introduced himself as the Heavy Weapons Guy, silently drove along, while Spy smoked with the cigarette smoke flying out the open door and yet still somehow lingering in the air.
By the time the semi-drunk, one eyed, black, Scotsman, whose class was the Demoman, was completely passed out, the van stopped, and the engine shut off. The Heavy Weapons Guy pulled back the curtain and said, "Are here. Wake up Demo." Jeremy nudged the snoring man with his foot, but he didn't stir. The man sitting across from Jeremy stood up and took a deep breath.
"GET UP YOU WORTHLESS MAGGOT! WE ARE AT OUR DESTINATION, AND I WILL NOT TOLERRATE LAZINESS! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" The men flinched at the sheer volume that the one who was the Soldier class could scream at, but it did the job. The Demoman shot up in confusing and perhaps a little bit of fear.
"All right all right!" he cried as he stood up. "No need tah' get fussy now!" Soldier said a few more things, but Jeremy purposefully tuned him out as he gratefully jumped out of the back and onto the rock ground. The heat hit him, and he could feel himself start to sweat after just a few seconds. He looked up to take in his new home, but all he saw was a few buildings that all looked like worn down warehouses.
"Is this it?" Jeremy asked out loud. With how well the job paid, he was expecting… at least a little bit more than this.
"Aye laddie," Demoman said as he clasped a hand on the younger boy's shoulder. "You're lookin' at your new home fer at least a few years." He gave a hardly laugh and turned to grab his belongings. Jeremy turned to see that the rest of the group had around two bags at the least. He tried to stop being self conscious of the small bag on his back, but it was a little harder to shrug it off than he thought.
"This is why I'm here," Jeremy thought as he followed the Engineer to the front door. "I'll be able to afford plenty of things even after I send money to Ma." The Engineer pushed the front door open, and they walked into almost pure darkness. They fumbled for a few seconds as they looked for a light switch, but there was a small click, and the harsh florescent lights sprung to life. The main room was fairly large, yet empty. There was a small TV on a thin table with a worn down couch with a small area rug beneath the two pieces of furniture. The rest of the room was empty. To the right was the kitchen. This area was the odd one out since it was a dingy yellow and not grey and red. There were some basic kitchen appliances and a large wooden table with nine seats.
Jeremy migrated over to the hall that was to the left of the room to find a long hall with bedrooms on each side with a communal bathroom at the end of the hall. It didn't faze him that much. He was used to sharing small quarters with a bunch of others, so in this case, there were actually some upgrades.
"Hey Scout!" Engineer called. Jeremy had to think for a minute before remembering that he was the Scout. He was no longer Jeremy; he was now the Scout.
"Coming!" he called, walking to the main area. Everyone was standing in a small group with their bags.
"So," Engineer started, "we're all adults here, so I'm sure that we can all just pick a room civilly, but you ain't sleepin' in here are you Sniper?" The Australian just shook his head. "Well then, I suppose just pick your rooms and get settled. We can discuss dinner, rules, chores, and other things later. Sound good?"
"Actually," the Medic chimed in, "zhere is a room in zhe infirmary, so I vill not be staying in zhis hall as vell." The man was very clearly German, and Scout just now noticed the small white dove sitting happily on the man's shoulder.
"Alright, then I guess that settles that," Engineer said. "Go pick your rooms." Scout dashed to the hall, unable to contain his excitement at the prospect of his own room. He quickly ran into the first room on his right and stood in the middle, taking in the fact that he wasn't going to have to share his room with anybody.
"Is this your room lad?" the Scot asked from the doorway.
"Uh, yeah," Scout replied. "Sorry, just wanted to hurry and, uh, get settled in, ya know."
"Aye," Demoman said with a smile. "Well, I'm just lettin' ya know that I'm gonna be takin' the room next to ya. So don't be alarmed if you hear a few bumps in tah' night."
"I'll keep that in mind." when Demoman left, Scout walked over, gently shut the door, and grinned. This was his room. He didn't have to worry about the others barging in on him or worry about someone pulling pranks on him in the middle of the night. He threw his bag on his bed and looked around. There was a dresser, a small desk, a small bookcase, a closet, a bed, and a mirror. He shoved what few clothes he had in the dresser, put his lucky ball cap on the headboard of the bed, placed his baseball glove and ball on the bookshelf as well as his baseball cards, and he pulled out a framed photo and looked at it for a second. It was him, his Ma, and all seven of his brothers.
"Look at me guys, " he whispered. "I get my own room and everything! Can you believe it?" he turned and gently placed it on the desk. "Don't worry guys. I'll make you proud."
For dinner, the group decided on sandwiches, mainly because that was one of the few things in the fridge that didn't take a whole lot of prep or time. Of course, the Engineer suggested they all eat dinner together, but the Sniper left to eat in his van, and the Medic took his sandwich to the infirmary since he said still had much to do. The rest of the party stayed and ate their food in comfortable silence. Or, at least, they tried to. Scout began to talk, mainly to fill the silence that he felt was uncomfortable, but once he figured out that they weren't going to cut him off or tell him to shut up, he just kept talking. Living with seven older brothers meant there were days he rarely ever got to speak, and now he was with a group of people who didn't care. So he didn't shut up; he just kept going. Since none of them knew him that well, he decided to stretch the truth just enough to make him look at least a little bit cooler.
When he finished his third sandwich- he hadn't eaten all day- he excused himself and went to get ready for bed. He quickly took a shower, and flopped on his bad, still slightly damp, and smiled. This was his new life; his own room, a good paying job, and being able to talk however much he wanted was a dream come true. As he dug himself under the covers, he wished his picture goodnight and fell into a deep sleep.