Hello to people of the site, I am RiverM8rix. As an avid fan of the TF2 Franchise, I often wondered about what explanations that the world of Mann Co. and Saxton Hale would come up for the reasoning for many of the weapon effects and game mechanics found. Some weapons have been already given a back story, but I wanted to make it universal. What were the mercenaries thinking when they saw these wondrous machines for the first time?
In the reviews that I ask you to give, please tell me which weapons you would like to see a back story for. I will try to respond to those comments in the following chapter, when I can, and if I know the response.
Thanks for reading.
Respawning. That's what he would call it.
His lab was immaculate, like always. But today would be a different day. Copenhagen had been immensely helpful with wiring up their base. Though they both favored rough, industrial designs, cleanliness must be maintained for this to work. And so the design was sleek. Not like Gray's robots, but immaculate. No one would know that people were being reborn every minute of battle.
Power would be provided. Simpletons, most of his team might be, but even they knew to follow the orders of a doctor. A simple machine would be placed on the point and power would flow into his machine at an astonishing rate. All they needed to do was capture the brazenly obvious area.
When a point was captured, the hill would emit a light in accordance with the color scheme of their employers. When that happened, his amazing machine would be able to activate almost twice as fast.
Of course, if they got a separate power source, they could theoretically make an instantaneous re-spawn. That would make for an entertaining humiliation round after the mission had concluded. But that was food-for-later-thought.
He smiled darkly. His employers had given him free reign to do as he liked, and with Copenhagen's help, he had created his beauties. The ability to heal a person to full health, to close bullet and explosive wounds seconds after they formed. To make his comrades completely impervious to damage, and to double the damage that they dealt.
Combat medicine at its finest. But not the end.
Unethical, they said. Unthinkable, they said. He did not care for what they said, except to prove them wrong. He could save people easily if they were about to die, so why stop there?
What was more amazing than being able to bring back people from the brink of death? It would have to be to bring them back from the dead.
Accredited professionals had laughed. Combat Medicine was a limited field. You were only meant to patch up your troops before sending them back out. No matter what his grandiose mind imagined, he would never reach his goal. After all, if he was dead on the field with them, how would he bring them back? If their bodies were littered across the field, would he re-create Frankenstein's monster?
No, he told them. He would re-create their bodies using their souls. Because no matter how much damage the body and the mind took, a soul remained steady in its growth or decay. No matter that he was sinking back into pseudo-science and religion. It had worked.
It had proven amazingly effective. He had run diagnostics and test his colleagues as was his right being the once certified doctor. But he had made sure that he knew their physiology better than they did.
And his research had born fruit. No more did Mann Co. have to supply new mercenaries to fight these pointless battles. At least, they didn't have to supply their bodies.
He had painstakingly mapped out their brain, and had updated their status after each mission. The ones that always made it back, that is, and they could now exist as each other.
There was nine of them in total, the ones that generally made it back in one piece after each mission. He could always regrow their limbs if they came back in multiple pieces. He had advanced that far, after all.
But why stop at recreating their own bodies? If he had their minds and their bodies mapped out to the point he had, why couldn't he mix and match? Why couldn't he clone?
This would be a game changer. Now they could afford to be slightly more brazen with their movements. Stealth would not be needed if they could come back to life anytime they wanted. The possibilities for game plans were endless if this was the case.
Though the Scout may have been comfortable in his own skin, he could easily be put into someone else's body. Maybe he wouldn't be good as Heavy, being used to moving so quickly, but maybe he would enjoy control of the Demoman, or the Pyro. Mercenaries he had learned to fear, ones he would come to respect.
Of course Pyro sounded immensely entertaining if he could see what happened inside the mute's mind. If nothing else, he would just run at people with fire out.
Maybe a mission wouldn't work as well with their normal load-out... Maybe they wanted to put fear into the enemy, and rush them all as one... he would call them Classes. Class rush. Sounded fun. He would have to find a way to enjoy it.
Maybe Sniper? No, Sniper Rush would never work. But Heavy Rush? That sounded enticing. If nothing else, being able to lift two hundred and fifty pounds over his head seemed fascinating.
Oh. Someone had just died. Ten seconds seemed to be the average time of respawn. With nary a sound, he watched as Soldier suddenly appeared within the confines of their base. A short salute, and the man was on his way, grabbing a spare rocket launcher on his way out.
That would be something to look into later. Re-spawning them with their previous load-out attached.
But it was time to try out his own creation.
With a thought, he changed. Legs became wiry, and a cocky smirk now adorned his face. He grabbed a bat. Running everywhere would be interesting.
But he would have many more years to practice medicine with his colleagues, he would make sure they stayed alive to enjoy it.