Hey folks! How's it going? We got another episode of Misadventures of the RED Team over here, hope you like it! :D
(I don't own TF2! Wish I did. Think of all the hats.)
Chapter One – Idiotic Ideas
~RED BASE~
The idea of having a hobby was something of a lost concept on a full-time mercenary. Maybe they'd still have a little something; an Engineer's guitar playing, a Medic's exploration of a usually-unwilling person's innards, those sorts of pleasantries.
More outdoorsy activities were pretty much whittled down to shooting things or blowing them up in some weirdly imaginative ways. Yeah, super fun, but over time it could get a tad repetitive. This was ideally how the nine RED mercs got onto the topic of pastimes whilst gathered in their slightly-trashed rec room;
"I think we should get onto the topic of pastimes while we're gathered in our slightly-trashed rec room," Soldier suggested absently, ignoring the blank stares of his teammates. Medic, who was minutely pissed at being interrupted (he had finally gotten around to painting out the 'I like hats' graffiti on the wall) took a precious second out of his time to glare at him.
"Nein," he set down immediately, "You made me play a dare game, fix zhis base, use a Portal gun, go to Pyroland – never again – do a treasure hunt, help a unicorn GIVE BIRTH, and zhere is no vay in Hell I'm taking up a hobby!"
…
"So I was thinkin' w' go fishin'," the Demoman went on happily, regardless, positively shrugging off the latest tantrum in the RED base, "With swords."
Apparently Pyro thought this would be the ideal time to whip a fire axe out of nowhere and haphazardly swing it about the room in agreement. Engineer raised a hand;
"Ah'm gonna go ahead and say no." Maybe a third of the mercs nodded solemnly. "How 'bout somethin' nice like buildin' a pond fer baby ducks?" Engy stared fondly into space for a moment.
"… Counter proposal," Spy broke the silence, "We don't do that."
Engy and the author pouted severely whilst the Heavy decided to get involved.
"We learn craft of making boats and travel the world." He stated flatly, like this was the most obvious solution. The team all froze for a moment at the mental struggle of not remembering the last time they used a boat.
See Misadventures of the RED Team 2, dear confused readers.
A surprisingly dark, low toned voice at the back of the room announced Sniper's contribution to the conversation;
"What if we train eight hundred koalas karate until they're masters then steal a train and gradually take over all of- why is everyone starin' at me like that?"
"Cuz that's freakin' weird, Snipes." Now suddenly everyone was staring at Scout.
"When'd you get here!?" Soldier demanded.
"I've been here the whole time!"
"You've had no dialogue! You always dominate the conversation! I UNDERSTAND NOTHING NOW." He abruptly leapt out the window, revealing the fact he must have been sitting on a raccoon for the better part of half an hour. Sniper blinked, casually plucking out a glass shard embedded in his arm, and eventually sighed instead of saying anything.
The team sat in silence for a moment until Lieutenant Bites pounced out the same window and some background clamour suggested Soldier had been attacked. Quite violently.
While most of the team were distracted by that – literally for two seconds before they lost interest – Pyro randomly figured hanging from the ceiling light would be a good idea and promptly took out a chunk of the roof.
"… We really need to get out of this base," Spy commented lightly, dusting off his suit. With a much more business-like attitude than a drunkard ought to have, the Demoman suddenly stood up straight and proclaimed;
"I KNOW WHAT TO DO."
The team thought they were witnessing a kind of milestone. They thought their misadventures were over. It seemed that, finally, one of them had just given mental birth to an actual, genuinely good idea.
It felt good. So very good.
Then the Demoman whipped out his sticky bomb launcher, filled the room with explosives, and launched them all through the wall.
"I hate every last one of you," Sniper grumbled midair, performing a quick spin in order to flip off everybody. Naturally there was a slight problem with the REDs' flight path (the two feet of solid concrete) that hindered their progress a little. Plus they crash landed on top of poor, half-eaten Soldier.
"Who bets Demo just forgot his great plan?" Engy muttered from his uncomfortable position underneath a ton of bricks and a few incapable mercenaries.
"Estás usando este software de traducción de forma incorrecta," Demo cried, exploding from the wreckage (quite literally) and instantly falling flat on his face.
"You called it, Engy," Soldier said, finally extracting the savage raccoon from his arm. "So what're we doing?"
"I'm here by the way," Scout stated flatly, ultimately ignored.
"Hiking…" The mercs – varied amounts of themselves actually visible at the moment – blinked uncomprehendingly in Heavy's direction. The Russian stared wistfully into the distance, as though in the midst of an epiphany. "We should go hiking." The REDs leaned in; enchanted by the prospect of a nice hobby, when Heavy's ass thought it would be a superb time to fart obnoxiously.
"ARGHHH GOD WHY!?"
Long story short Scout died and the others threw up. But that's not the point.
Point was; HIKING TRIP, BABY.
Like freakin' children the nine of them (once Scout had returned from respawn, the pitiable moron) rushed away to get ready. This could be mildly interesting.
~SPY'S ROOM~ (Yeah it's not in team order for once come at me)
Spy, interestingly, had never been hiking. The only sport he'd ever really excelled at was drunken quad biking after that incident with the army of pirates. Man, was that a long time ago…
"Fond memories," Spy put on a weirdly-big nostalgic grin and flounced across his room toward the closet. He threw it open with a fanfare and stuck his head in to search for useful supplies. "… I own nothing but suits," the RED noted, sifting through several identical jackets as though it would help somehow.
Spy stared thoughtfully into the depths of his wardrobe for the better part of ten minutes then sadly trudged back to the rec room.
Or what was left of it.
~SNIPER'S ROOM~ (No it's not just backward that's purely coincidence)
Sniper already arrived in his room before he recalled it was completely empty (and lacking a door) because all his stuff was in his camper van; and judging by the postcard he'd received earlier in the week RV was on holiday in attempt to recover from the emotional turmoil these stories put her through.
"Hm."
Surely there would be something in here he could take on a hiking trip. Like, eh, like…
Sniper felt his attention gradually zero in on the bed frame. Firewood.
~MEDIC'S ROOM~
Medic's bedroom-come-dove-sanctuary-come-infirmary likely contained oodles of helpful items for doing just about anything, be it a hiking trip or tripping in Pyrovision.
But Medic remained none too happy about the whole 'hobby' deal, and so figured he would at least mess up the preparation to hath his revenge.
Know what grammar check? No. That should be 'hath' instead of 'have'. Because it sounds just that much cooler, that's why.
Ahem. Medic moseyed past every single medical supply and foodstuff (granted, it was birdseed) until he reached the Drawer at the Back of the Room. It was and always will be a very special Drawer, which is why Medic tended to capitalise it in his mind-transcript.
Archimedes, always excited about the Drawer opening, plonked his behind on the doctor's shoulder to watch. The dove cooed down from three and the Drawer was OPENED.
~CLIFFHANGER THOUGH BECAUSE ENGY'S ROOM~
A little mini sentry acting as a nightlight on Engy's desk bleeped hello as the merc entered, which would make just about anybody's day a lot better. Engy waved because that was the polite thing to do… apparently sentries have the power of sight, then.
Engy wasn't entirely sure what to bring on a hiking trip either. He supposed Teddy Roosebelt would want to come, and there was always his toolbox…
"… Ah'll go make sammiches."
~HEAVY'S QUARTERS~ (Got bored of the word room)
The Heavy Weapons Guy squished his generous bulk through his way-too-narrow doorway and wiped his feet on the brand new welcome mat. Funny, he didn't remember where it came from or whether he actually gave a damn about footprints.
He briefly wondered if this train of thought was remotely relevant.
Heavy decided 'nay' and moved to the tiny bed beside his bed for the one and only thing he would ever need at any time ever. Besides a doctor. And a sandvich.
"Sasha!" Heavy cried joyously, hugging the minigun like it was an average thing to do. Okay wait just realised that's actually about the most normal thing that happens around here.
~DEMO'S SPACE~ (Bedroom isn't in the thesaurus for some reason we'll make do)
The Demoman was all set the second he arrived in his room.
For a trip, no matter where that trip may or may not be, all he needed was a too-plentiful-to-be-healthy supply of alcohol. The Scotsman felt a song coming on;
"Um… It's a sma' world after all-"
NO. NO. FORGET IT.
~PYRO'S EPIC CASTLE-VORTEX THING (PYROVISION)~
"So, Py," Balloonicorn squeaked, floating in circles just under the roof, "a hiking trip. You must be growing up." Reindoonicorn and their baby Balloondoonicorn nodded agreement, the latter sitting on Pyro's head.
Pyro gave them a pleasant thumbs up and skipped about its room to start packing. Make your own strawberry jelly kit? Only heck yeah. Plushy Companion Cube? Of course.
The innocent wee pyromaniac quickly realised it may as well just pack everything it owned.
Now where was that fluorescent rainbow rucksack…?
~SOLDIER'S BARRACKS~
Soldier's room proudly maintained its eye-searing shades of red, white and blue despite the abnormal abundance of raccoon… leavings… in there. It was all very American.
The merc, like a few of his teammates, only required one item from here, but it was a good 'un.
His car key.
"AW YEAH!" Soldier yelled, punching through the outside wall and falling with style a couple of storeys in victory.
~SCOUT'S ROOM~ (Fine it was backward what do you want from me?)
Scout jogged into his room and promptly vanished into all the junk on the floor. He tunnelled past the Bonk cans and clambered onto his bed, finding he had no clue what he was supposed to be doing at this moment in time.
"Well," he awkwardly glanced around himself, drumming out some kind of theme song on the bed frame. "Ain't any harm in downin' some Bonk, I guess."
He was quite wrong.
There's lots of harm in downing some Bonk.
Be afraid.
Okay this chapter wouldn't come out funny, so… pity laughs would be appreciated. Even really fake would be awesome. I love you guys
Thanks for reading! :)