Thank you to Anne the Cat Detective for being a wonderful beta and wonderful person to talk to.
The battlements are only bad in the daytime, when the Snipers are bloodthirsty and seeking a quick headshot to boost their morale. In the evenings, the Spy prefers to come out for a smoke. Pulling the cigarette from his lips and letting the smoke escape, the Spy looked to the sky for nothing in particular. There wasn't anything, to his knowledge and belief, up there. Today's battle, a rather drawn out one in which everyone was humiliated by the lack of a victory, deserved a pity smoke. Spy, having done mediocre in the ranking of his teammates, also needed a breather from the base's usual cacophony. However, with no victory, it wasn't all too loud.
Instead, they had something else to cheer about.
His leg swung lightly in a rhythm that his mind left him in, it eventually turning numb but retaining the movement. Spy looked out from the distance to see the RED base, practically camouflaging with the evening's dawn. The dust from the desert landscape blew across the land, withering to nothing once it touched the water. He closed his eyes. Spy knew that the team- both RED and BLU -were nothing but dust to Mann Co. His time would be up and then they'd be disposed of.
The Spy pulled lightly at his balaclava. He wanted a break from its imprisonment.
"...Hey. Spoi."
The Spy's jerking reaction to the Australian's startling welcome was to nearly fall off the battlements and plummet to his pain and injury. The lanky and agile man quickly grabbed the Spy by his suit and yanked him back, causing him to fall flat on his back with a huff of disdain. The shoes of his comrades running off the battlements created a thick layer of skin, muscle, blood and sand. The Spy was green with disgust, lifting himself up and immediately turning to the Sniper with a blank look with a subtle hint of contempt.
"May I help you?"
"We're done with that guy y'brought in."
The Sniper averted his eyes to the side. The Spy's facial expression did not waver.
"What did ze soldier do with him?"
"He... broke 'im, essentially. We've got everything we needed out of 'im. What will ya do now, Spook?"
The Spy never found himself to be fond of his Sniper, nor his obnoxious 'pet names' granted in jest of his abilities. Of course, his talents kept the man from being killed as frequently, as most Snipers do not feel the need to unscope lest they are respawning from a death. Spy noted that he was as ungrateful as he was dirty and carried on.
"I will keep zat to myself. Thank you for the information, Sniper."
The Sniper scoffed, turning and walking away. The Spy watched the scrawny male lug away his kukri, the oversized knife Spy had had thrust into him a copious amount of times. Spy believed Sniper would be better off bludgeoning someone than attempting to hack into them with such a weapon, but shrugged off his comments. Spy rubbed his arms, then headed the way in which Sniper came and went.
The inner BLU base was as calming as the blue exterior. The Demoman, reduced to a blubbering mess lounging on the armchair, uplifted their spirits with his nonsensical chatter. He and Soldier, as robust and loud as he was, got along well. The two chattered away, their conversation incomprehensible. It was fine, since both spoke volumes with their weapons anyway.
Scout was quietly sitting off to the side, blatantly reading a porn magazine that the Pyro didn't seem very fond of. He made no attempt to hide it, understandably so in a base filled with males. So when the Pyro walked over and dropped a lit match onto the page of blonde women, the Scout's bewildered reaction was quickly quelled by the mumblings of the Pyro and a light tilt of the head. He went back to reading, only to notice that the book was quickly engulfed in fire. Scout was quick to curse, throwing the book off to the side. Pyro had walked away in-between his actions, humming a light tune. His mood dampened by the now burnt erotica, Scout followed along like a puppy being disciplined.
Sniper kept to himself, not often seen within the lobby. If he was, he simply was reading the newspaper or drinking his morning coffee. He was less sociable than the others by far. He had the misfortune of being here this evening however, having the Scout's flaming porno fly at him at an alarming rate. When it landed on his lap and the Sniper yelled in agony from the burns, his immediate reaction was to- also -hurl the burning mess away. Engineer, on the other hand, caught it with his gloved hand and shook his head. He walked off with the magazine, presumably to throw it away, but one couldn't ask the Engineer. He was a rather strange but intelligent man, also a recluse, who focused on robotics more than biology. In this light, no one bothered to ask how he could hold a flaming magazine, it was rumored that there was no real 'hand' underneath the gloves...
Chances are, he was actually going to throw it away. There was nothing robotic about the women in the reading, and he was only interested in prosthetics when it came to humans.
The Medic, unlike the most others, was rather sweet to his teammates. However, it came in increments and usually after nights with the Heavy. Otherwise, he was no different. The team attempted to get on his good side on these days, but the Heavy was even rather protective on and off the battlefield. It wasn't hidden that the two were lovers, so giving the Heavy any reason to believe that you were attempting to get his doctor in bed was essentially a death wish.
And then when the Medic had to heal the injured teammate, they could see the Heavy looming about, ensuring that no moves were made while they were writhing in pain. It was uncomfortable to say the least; the general consensus was that the Medic was better off left to his own devices when the Heavy was prowling. This wasn't to say that the Medic's friendly demeanor spoke volumes about his behavior on the battlefield. The team would've seen the Medic in an entirely different light had they saw his skills as a battle medic first. His Kritzkrieg was generally only out when for healing briefly. He was not attached to his Heavy's hip for beck and call. The Heavy did, though, stick to his medic when he ran charging out, using his knowledge to either end the lives of the RED team swiftly or as slowly as he could possibly make it. Using the uber-saw, he built ubers in this way, using them on his heavy to wreak havoc with criticals dreadfully often. The German man's eyes gleamed when he was given the opportunity to mess with the organs of the fallen REDs. He preferred the Heavy's killings as they were usually left in one piece, over the Soldier and Demoman's. The Sniper's kills generally had no heads, and the Spy's were in perfect condition. The Heavy is calm most of the time. It was only when it comes to his Medic that he can be rather... brutal.
The Spy was secretive, as they all were. He remained locked in his room more often than not, leaving an air of mystery that wasn't helped by the balaclava he donned every day. The Spy threw himself back on the bed, turning his head to glance at the clock. It was almost nine and everyone had already eaten. He ate on his lonesome, preferring to take off the mask to eat. He closed his eyes and allowed sleep to take him. It only lasted mere minutes before he heard a knock on the door."Yes?""Hey! That guy down there? He's been waitin' for ya! You gon' go see him or somethin'? He doesn't look like he'll last much longer if ya keep 'im waitin!"
The voice's obnoxious accent, Bostonian, came clearly through the wooden door.
"I will see him... in a bit," the Spy said dismissively. He put on his casual wear and sighed. Glancing in the mirror, the Spy's green eyes were unusual to the blue on his predecessors. His jet black hair was also a differentiation to the norm. He brushed a hand through his hair, regretting the mask entirely as his hair was forced down 75% of the time here. It paid well, at least, to keep his secrets locked away. Covering his mouth during a brief yawn, he felt the bed practically calling him back to lay down. He hesitated to even bother putting back on the mask, knowing fully well he was too tired to care and, where he was going, there was no threat to him. With this in mind, he activated the Cloak and Dagger and headed down to the Intel room.
The room was bleak, with nothing but multiple corridors lining its halls. The Spy took the nearest one, since all of them led to the same red suitcase simply sitting on a desk. He pushed the intel to the side and sat in the chair that was simply there for aesthetics. He turned the chair to the front, folding his arms on the desk.
He gave a small, thin smile to the man placed in front of the desk, bound by his arms to a cold metal chair.
The man's head was hung down, his mask slanted and only partially on his head. There was no air of mystery; the BLU team stripped this Spy of everything that was dear to him. Essentially, they killed him. He was never once touched in a harming matter, just toyed with, touched with the gentle Medic's precision until they slowly lifted his mask. Until that point, the RED Spy was being prodded for answers and he refused to answer them. Loyal to a fault, they removed his mask and the air of courage and mystique he had prior vaporized into nothing but a mist of sweat, tears and blood.
"You haven't been harmed, have you, mon cher?"
The man made a guttural groan. He did not look up at the BLU Spy, he did not remove his lopsided mask, his body weakened from the psychological torture.
"Not in the physical sense. I will take zat silence as a yes."
The RED Spy averted his eyes to the left while he left a hand on his cheek. The other man, however, did nothing but follow the Spy's subtle movements.
"I will be borrowing your clothing. I wish to... pardon the 'joke', spy on your teammates' actions. You can easily just hand zem over to me, or we could discuss other methods of giving zem to me..."
The RED Spy was reluctant. This was to be expected- the BLU Spy was new and rather young, as the original one had been killed off hours. The murderer was never revealed and the BLU team took a rather brutal beating the next day, as it had taken time to find a replacement. Upon hearing this, the new recruit figured he wouldn't mind playing dirty either, though he wouldn't be so obvious about his mischief as the RED team was.
"And if I was to say no?"
"Zen we have a problem."
The BLU Spy gave a narrow smirk with a nasty intent, smoothly unveiling his choice weapon: Your Eternal Reward. "But zat is okay, I have a solution."
