Authors Note: Hey guys! I have come back with a TF2 fanfiction, featuring my OC's! See the end of the chapter for more notes, but in the meantime, read on!
Chapter 1- Meet the Team (Part 1)
Vance sighed as he waited for the train to arrive. He had been sitting on the bench for about half-an-hour and the Australian sun wasn't forgiving. He wrapped his scarf around his neck even tighter, attempting to hide his neck. He gave out an irritated growl as precipitation started to form at his neck, making him tug at the scarf in annoyance. He pushed himself off of the bench when he heard the oncoming train whistle. He whistled as an old train came into the station.
"Welcome, Mr. Mundy." A woman in purple greeted him with a kind smile.
"G'Day." He replied simply. The woman gave him a brochure, which contained a map of the train and a map of the place he was stationed at. 2Fort. Inresting name, to say at least. The front of it had nine symbols, in order it was a foot with wings, a rocket, a flame, a spiky ball, a fist, a wrench, a medical sign, a scope, and a knife. He had the scope stitched on his shoulder.
"I'm Sophia Pauling, but you can call me Miss Pauling." She said, tipping her cats'-glasses upwards, balancing it on her nose bridge.
"Your teammates will be arriving shortly. The train ride will take approximately five hours, so make yourself comfortable." She said, nodding to one of the many chairs. He took the one in the very back, setting his duffle bag down in the seat next to him. He felt the train shift, then it started to roll. He looked out the window for a few minutes, but decided to look away. Nothing but rocks and dirt, and maybe the occasional cactus. He pushed his aviator's up the bridge of his nose, and looked at the ground.
"Next stop, Stuttgart, Germany!" Miss Pauling announced over the PA. Vance's head snapped up as he looked out the window again, but all he could see was darkness. He looked around frantically, trying to rub his eyes to clear his darkened vision, but to no avail. He slowly closed his eyes and fell asleep not moments later.
The sound of the train door opening awoke Vance from his slumber. His back straightened as he stared at the man before him. He had a white beak-mask, similar to one of those Plague Doctors, just without the breathing mask. He had a small, nervous smile beneath the mask. He had a dark, bloodstained red leather apron over his doctors coat with a medical cross on the left side and a pocket on his right containing right angled surgical forceps.
"Guten Tag, Herr Sniper!" The man's accent was heavily German.
"Err… G'Day…" Vance said slowly, eyeing the blood on his apron.
"Mien name is Sven, I vill be your Medic!"
"G'Day, Sven. My name is Vance. Noice ta' meet ya'." He said, nodding at the seat in front of him, which the man took gratefully. The man had a rather large looking backpack still wrapped around his back.
"Ya' might wanna put that thing down, it's gonna be a long ride, 'nd we don't want our Medic being tired 'nd all, yeah?" The Australian said, smiling at the man. The man let out a nervous chuckle and put his bag down and slumping in his seat.
"Danke, Herr Sni-I mean Herr Vance."
"Don't mention it." Vance said, waving his hand. He looked out the window and saw it snowing.
"Wait, weren't we just in Australia?" Vance asked, confused.
"Nien, ve are in Stuttgart, Germany, mien hometown." Sven confirmed, smiling lightly at the confused man.
"Alright everyone! Next stop, Bee Cave, Texas!"
Sven stared at Miss Pauling, confusion written all over his beaked-face. Sven glanced at Vance, but he only replied with a shrug.
Darkness consumed the pair yet again.
The opening of the door awakened the two men again. Vance rubbed his eyes as he sat up from his slumped position, finding a crick in his neck. Sven let out a groggy groan as he slowly moved his red gloved hands under his mask to rub at his eyes. They soon saw a small man. He seemed to be older than Vance, by a couple of years in fact. The man was talking to Miss Pauling when she pointed to the two. He said something else and waddled over to the two taller men. He had a large backpack strapped to his back, which he pushed under his seat.
"Well Howdy! The name's Tony Conagher!" Tony said, smiling brightly. He had a red striped train cap and a pair of goggles that hid his eyes. He had a partially zipped thick jacket with the sleeves rolled up. He had a red hooded sweatshirt with the hood peeking out the back. On both of his arms there are red armbands with a wrench stitched on.
"G'Day, mate. Name's Vance, Oi'm tha Snoipa." Vance greeted, holding out his hand shake.
"Guten Tag, Herr Conagher. I'm Sven, and I'm zhe Medic." Sven said, smiling a little bit under his mask.
The man took ahold of Vance's hand and shook vigorously. "Pleased ta' meet y'all!" He had a rather large Texan accent. Vance glanced around, then his eyes met the window. He stared out. It was a small town, filled with minimal people. There was at least ten people outside the train.
"That yer family?" Vance asked curiously. Tony nodded, smiling and waving to the folks.
"Alright folks, sit down and enjoy the ride while you can, cuz we're going to France!"
Tony gave a glance at Miss Pauling, eyes searching for an explanation.
"But goin' from here ta' France will take at least a day by plane, and what about tha' sea an'-" he did not get to finish. He was quickly pulled down to sit next to Vance. He had taken the liberty to move his duffle bag under his seat.
"Don't question it, just go along with it, mate." the Australian said, shaking his head.
The three were soon consumed by darkness yet again.
The three awoke to the sound of the door opening, but after they had shaken the grogginess out of their eyes, their teammate was no where to be seen?
"Oh come on, Spy. At least introduce yourself." Miss Pauling said, staring into blank space. The other three looked around for their new teammate, but to no avail. Only when Vance sat down, did he feel something on his seat.
Or rather someone.
The man yelped when the Australian sat on him, the movement making him deactivate his cloak. The Australian yelped in surprise and launched himself at Sven, who had quickly caught the man.
"Mon Dieu, jour 'eavy!" the man in Vance's seat exclaimed unhappily. He was wearing a balaclava over his face, hiding his hair. He had an open dress shirt and a red colored paisley cravat and gold buttons on his shirt and suit. He had a fancy suitcase stashed next to Vance's duffle bag.
"Hooley Dooley, who tha' 'ell are you?!" The Australian asked, shaking violently from the scare he just received. The masked man huffed and said, "I'm zhe Spy, but jou can call me Alan, since we are teammates after all."
"Alright, Alan!" Tony exclaimed, smacking Alan on the back harshly, getting a cough out of the Frenchman. "Tha' name's Tony Conagher! Engineer! Pleased ta' meet ya'!" The Texan said, smiling.
"Mien name is Sven. Medic." Sven said, smiling lightly under his mask. He quickly pushed the Australian off of him.
Vance grumbled, hitting the floor, "Name's Vance, Snoipa, not Heavy."
Vance quickly picked his duffle bag off of the floor and walked over to the seat parallel to Alan, between Tony and Sven.
"Speaking of Heavy, next stop, Siberia, Russia!"
Alan stared at the other men, who gave a shrug in response. They were engulfed in darkness again, and Vance just sighed and let sleep overtake him.
When they woke up, they were surrounded by the chilly air of Siberia, Russia. The man standing next to Miss Pauling was way taller than the two tallest, Vance and Alan.
"Guys! This is Heavy Weapons Guy, but you can call him Heavy!" Miss Pauling said, shoving the man towards them.
Sven stared at the man in awe. He rummaged around in his backpack and pulled out a measuring tape.
"U-Umm… M-May I?" Sven asked timidly. The man stared down at Sven, then gave a curt nod. He stood up straight. Sven had to stand on the bench in front, since the chairs they were currently occupying was filled.
"Wow! Mien Gott you're tall! Six foot two…"
The man wore a hat which was black and hung over his ears. He had on a pair of knee pads, straps clipped to his belt and a blast pad over his left shoulder. He was wearing a red t shirt and a white undershirt under that. The man simply shrugged and said, "Was born that way, not big surprise." He had a rather large Russian accent, accompanied by broken English. He had a bag slung over his back.
Sven sat down next to the man, his height a major difference. Vance sighed as he took Sven's seat.
"Alright, everyone, next stop is Boston, Massachusetts!"
Heavy didn't bat an eye at the announcement, he was too busy looking out the window to notice. Vance fell asleep soon after the darkness consumed them.
A loud chattering awoke five men already sitting in the train. They looked up and saw a rather young man. He looked to be about twenty five. He had on a red, high collar track jacket with a white trim and the sleeves rolled up the elbows. He had a red tinted beige cadet hat with a foot and wings emblazoned on the front, with red goggles placed above the brim. He had a single, black backpack strapped around his back. He had a cocky smile on his lips as he chatted with Miss Pauling, who rolled her eyes and told him to go 'talk with the team.'
"Oh, hey! The name's Nick, but call me Nicky 'nd you get a headful of bat, ya got 'dat? I'm gonna be the Scout, so try to keep up, yea?" he rambled.
"O-Oh… Guten Tag, Herr Scout. Mien name is Sven, I am your Medic." Sven introduced first. He nudged Heavy, who gave the doctor a surprised look. They seem to have bonded fast.
"I am Heavy Weapons Guy. But you can call me Heavy." Heavy said, glaring at the doctor, who didn't flinch under the giants gaze.
"Name's Vance. Snoipa." Vance said, smirking as Alan started to speak, but was cut off by the Australian.
"… Alan. Spy." Alan said, folding his arms and leaning back into his chair.
"Tony Conagher, Engineer!" Tony said cheerfully.
Nick sat in the aisle next to theirs, stretching his legs over the seats.
"So, where to next, Miss Pauling?" he asked, smiling at the woman in a flirty way.
She rolled her eyes and spoke into the PA, "Next stop, California!"
"Wait, why're we goin' to California?" Nick asked, bewildered.
"Ta' pick up our next teammate, of course!" Tony explained, grabbing Vance's shoulder into a firm pat. The other man winced when his gloved hand hit his shoulder.
The men were in darkness yet again.
When they woke up, they were in for a big surprise. They were being yelled at.
"MAGGOTS, UP AND AT 'EM, THIS IS NO PLACE TO BE ASLEEP." A harsh voice called out. Somebody picked Vance up from his sleepy stupor and was quickly dragged out of his seat.
"Hooley Dooley!" Vance exclaimed, his jaw hitting the hard, wooden ground beneath him.
"Vhy vould you do zhat to Herr Vance?!" Sven asked, standing up and helping Vance up.
"HE WAS IN THE WAY AND HE WAS ASLEEP. ONLY CIVILIANS SLEEP AROUND LIKE THAT."
"Zhat's no excuse to THROW your teammate to zhe ground!" Sven argued, grabbing an ice pack from his surgeons smock and sitting Vance down next to the massive Russian.
"WELL, IF I HAVE TO WORK WITH MAGGOTS LIKE YOU, YOU'LL HAVE TO GET USED TO ME." The man said. Vance got a good look at the man. He had a red overcoat that has shoulder boards, a flap that is folded from the left to the right, with dark red buttons and cuffs on his wrist with darker colored seams, underneath which the ends of the dress shirt are seen. Underneath the coat is a white dress shirt with a black tie. He also wore a brown belt with a silver buckle in the middle.
"Ugh…" Vance said, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Another loud one.
"Well now, mister Loud mouth, what's yer' name?" Tony asked, crossing his arms.
"THE NAME'S JAMES GULL, AGE THIRTY-SEVEN. I WAS A PART OF THE KILLING OF NAZI SCUM IN POLAND!" He said proudly, "WHICH REMINDS ME…" He said, turning back around to the German. He quickly lifted the man to the nearby wall, getting a surprised yelp from the masked man.
"WHAT'S YOUR NAME, GERMAN?!" he demanded, pushing Sven up onto the wall by his doctor's collar. Vance quickly stepped up to intervene, but Alan held him back.
"Mien name is Sven. You'd better put me down before I dissect you for science!" Sven said, glaring at James from behind his mask.
"HA! AND WHAT'S A PUNY LITTLE NAZI SUPPOSED TO DO WITH ME?!"
"Oh I can do a lot, like, not healing you in battle, not checking you for any infections after you had somehow healed yourself in battle… You will slowly die." Sven said, smirking at James' shocked face.
"… WHATEVER." James said, sitting down next to Nick, who was chattering away to Alan, who wasn't paying attention.
"Name's Nick, that's Alan, Tony, the guy next to Sven is Heavy and the guy you just threw is Vance!" Nick explained, pointing to every individual he had called out.
Alan growled the moment his name was mumbled, Heavy shot Nick a glare, Tony just smiled and waved, while Sven and Vance were trying to heal his jaw.
"Alright! Next stop, Scotland!"
"WHAT?! AREN'T WE STAYING IN GOOD 'OL AMERICA?!" James loudly protested. Even Nick took a moment off from babbling to cover his ears.
"Nope! We need to pick up the last Mercenary and then we can return!"
James grumbled, folding his arms. He only had a bag.
"Wait, I thought jou said zhere was going to be NINE Mercenaries?" Alan asked, his French accent giving out. James gave a glare at Alan, who quickly shrunk back.
Before James could lash out at the Frenchman, Miss Pauling said, "Yeah, but the ninth one decided to drive there itself."
"Wait, 'Itself'?" Alan questioned, confused. Miss Pauling waved the question off, "No need to worry, you'll meet it soon!"
The seven men were soon consumed by total darkness yet one more time.
When they awoke, they awoke to the sound of glass shattering. Vance looked up from his sitting position and saw a black man. The most interesting thing about him was his left eye. Or rather the absence of his left eye. He had an eyepatch over his eye. He had on a slightly wore, red pirate's hat with a tentacled skull and crossbones on the front.
"Hullo!" He slurred, obviously drunk.
"G'Day." Vance replied, passing the ice pack back to the doctor, "Thanks, Doc." to which Sven replied with a curt nod.
"'re ya' drunk or sommin'?" Nick asked, staring at the black man's eyepatch.
"Ye." The man said, slurring his wording.
"WHAT'S YOUR NAME, MAGGOT?!" James asked, immediately throwing nonsensible questions towards the man.
"Tha' name's Vincent DeGroot. I'm drunk, as you can probably tell." He belched, which Sven received with a wince.
Vincent decided to ignore James, and immediately sat on top of Alan.
"Mon Dieu not again!" Alan exclaimed, pushing the drunk Scot off of him.
"Oh I'm not done with you, cruton!" James exclaimed, attacking Alan with a barrage of questions, none of them Alan answered.
"Look, mate. Get away from the poor lad." Vincent said, oblivious to the man's rage.
"WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME, MAGGOT?!" James asked, pushing his hat up to meet crystal eyes-err, a crystal eye.
"I said, get away from tha' lad. He's scared shitless, as you can probably not tell." The drunken man said, swinging his bottle dangerously close to the Texan's face. True to the Scotsman's word, Alan was shaking in fear and was staring at the two men in front of him, not liking the attention he was receiving.
"OH. OH! I SEE HOW IT IS. VINCENT, IF THAT IS EVEN YOUR REAL NAME, IS STICKING UP FOR A FRENCHIE CRUTON!" James called out, pointing an accusing finger at Vincent. Vincent glanced at Tony with one eye and leaned towards him, whispering, "Is he always like this?"
"Dunno, only met him an hour ago." Tony replied, shrugging.
"SCOTLAND ISN'T EVEN A REAL COUNTRY!" James said, matter-of-factly. Now he has hit a nerve.
"Wot did ya' say aboot me country…?" Vincent asked slowly.
"I SAID, SCOTLAND ISN'T A REAL COU-" he didn't get the chance to finish. Vincent was straddling the man and was holding his now empty bottle above his head. He grabbed the man's collar and pulled him up.
"Say that again." He growled. The man didn't bat an eye.
"I SAID… SCOTlAND iSN'T A REAL COUNTRY!" He bellowed into the Scots face. The bottle came down with a sickening crash. Vance stepped up and picked the angry Scot off of the American.
"Calm down, Mate! We don't wanna be down one member already!" Vance said, nodding at Sven, who was quickly checking over the bruised man's wounds.
"Ooooh… You broke his nose. Looks like I'll have to set it back in place…" Sven said, wincing lightly, before his mouth became a sadistic smile.
"Now where to?" the silent giant asked after the Scot calmed down.
"Next stop, Teufort, New Mexico!" Miss Pauling's voice exclaimed over the PA. Alan was now calmed, asleep, his head lolling over Tony's shoulder. Tony glanced the Frenchman and smiled lightly. Nick saw the two and tried to call out, but Tony gave him a deadly glare, and that quickly shut him up.
Author's Note: Don't worry! Pyro is coming up next! This is only the first chapter! ^_^ The cosmetics used in this fanfiction are as followed:
Vance:
wiki/Chronomancer
wiki/Criminal_Cloak
Sven:
wiki/Blighted_Beak
wiki/Smock_Surgeon
Tony:
wiki/Engineer%27s_Cap
wiki/Antarctic_Researcher
Alan:
wiki/Au_Courant_Assassin
Pasha/Heavy:
wiki/Officer%27s_Ushanka
wiki/Combat_Slacks
Nick:
wiki/Hermes
wiki/Track_Terrorizer
James:
wiki/Rebel_Rouser
wiki/Classified_Coif
Vincent:
wiki/Buccaneer%27s_Bicorne
I hope you lil' Puro's enjoyed, there is more to come! Look out for Team Fortress 2-Chapter 2: Meet the Team (part 2)! :D