Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end. [Seneca]
Spy prided himself on always being in the know when his teammates were not; and to Spy, if he wasn't always in the know, then he was wholly ineffective at his job. This not-very-minor obsession with knowing things before everyone else was how he'd already been aware of Mann Co.'s incoming addition to the Gravel Wars.
It was also how he knew to check the foyer at three o'clock sharp for three crates that belonged to said incoming teammate.
He took a drag from his cigarette and blew the foul-smelling smoke from his lips, the small stick of tobacco held delicately between his index and middle finger as he surveyed the trio of large crates sitting in the foyer. "FRAGILE: HANDLE WITH CARE" was stamped on the side of each crate in bold red ink, with a pair of crossed swords just underneath.
It wasn't long, however, until Scout and Soldier arrived from their previous locations (the obstacle course and pitching machine, respectively) and caught sight of the crates.
"What's all this for?" Scout asked, his brow furrowed as he rapped his knuckles on the wooden lid and glancing at the insignia on the crates. "Did Demo order somethin' without telling us?"
"No one here is entitled to tell anyone about the things we order in the mail, Scout," Spy replied dryly.
"Yeah, but—"
"Outta my way, private, it's my duty to inspect these mysterious crates so I can determine the threat the contents pose to this team!" Soldier cut him off, whipping out his shovel and using it to pry open the lid of the first crate, revealing its contents to be…
A bunch of swords. The majority of them were totally identical, but rooting through the crate also revealed a couple of leather sheaths, as well as a few rapiers, lances, and javelins.
"…DEMOMAN! Your crate of swords has arrived!" Soldier bellowed.
"Ach, I'm right here, Soldier!" Demo snapped as he and Sniper emerged from the living room to the right. "And I didnae order any…bloody hell," he said, his eye widening as he gazed down at the crate of swords. "Who the hell ordered all o' these swords?"
"I have found some unidentified personal effects, men!" Soldier announced, having yanked off the lid of the second crate.
"Hey, lemme see!" Scout protested, scrambling over and elbowing Soldier aside to dig through the crate.
"What in blazes is goin' on here?" Engie said, he and Medic walking out of the infirmary to the left with matching irritated expressions on their faces.
"Some unidentified personal effects have arrived at the base!" Soldier yelled from where he was still seated by the crates as he and Scout continued to rifle through them.
"All we're findin' are books and clothes!" Scout complained, grabbing a random book and inspecting it with a furrowed brow. "The Call of Cthulhu? The hell is that about?"
"Is a horror story," Heavy explained as he came out from the library to join the rest of his teammates. "Have not read them before. English he uses is unusual, hard to translate."
"Waitwaitwait, I found something else!" Scout announced excitedly, grabbing the item and pulling it from the crate. "It's…an empty sketchbook," he finished flatly, visibly deflating as he dropped it back into the crate and peered inside. "A bunch of 'em, actually. But still, they couldn't have at least left the sketchbooks with actual drawings inside?"
"That still doesn't help us figure out who these crates belong to," Engie reminded him as Pyro came out of their room the same hall as Heavy and nudged open the third crate with their fire axe, simply revealing a stack of neatly folded bedsheets and curtains.
"In zhat case, I believe a phone call to Miss Pauling is in order," Medic decided, picking up another Lovecraft novel and thumbing through the pages, pausing when he saw the initials G.A.A. written in the upper righthand corner.
It was at that moment Spy looked to the front doorway behind him and saw a woman leaning against the frame, her freckled face largely indifferent as she silently gazed upon the mercenaries digging through what was presumably her personal effects. She was tall and lanky, and she wore a dark red vest over a white button-down with long puffy sleeves, and her hair was pulled back in a low bun that was akin to Miss Pauling's usual hairdo, save for the streaks of white that shot through her dark hair.
The woman finally caught sight of Spy, and mutual recognition crossed both their faces for a brief moment. The woman arched an eyebrow at him, then turned back to watching the other eight mercs continue to root through her stuff.
Finally, she pushed herself up from the doorway, crossed her arms, and asked, "I trust my personal effects were to your liking?"
Eight heads whipped towards the sound of her voice, some betraying their surprise (and guilt) more readily than others. Getting a better look at the newcomer also revealed the pair of sheathed swords hanging from a belt around her waist, and a gun strapped to her thigh.
"Miss Pauling warned me the lot of you would snoop through my things," she mused, sliding a dark green backpack from her shoulders and letting it drop to the floor with a muffled thump. "I guess it was a good call on my end to listen to her when she told me to pack my unmentionables separately."
As though on cue, Miss Pauling walked into the foyer, looking as harried as ever as she saw the mercs crowded around the mystery woman's stuff.
"What have I told you about opening mysteriously or unmarked packages?" she reprimanded them exasperatedly, nudging her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "It was obviously a mistake on my part for not notifying any of you sooner, but that still doesn't give you the right to invade someone's privacy like that!"
The mercs shuffled awkwardly for a moment, gingerly putting things back into their original crates before Scout finally spoke up and asked, "So who is she, exactly?"
Miss Pauling sighed and adjusted her glasses again. "Right. This is your new teammate," she explained. "On the field, you'll call her the Knight. However, the Administrator has given you permission to call her Geo during off-hours."
The woman now known as Geo inclined her head and gave them a faint smile. "A pleasure."
"I trust you can handle things on your own from here?" Miss Pauling asked, her expression becoming concerned.
"If I couldn't, I wouldn't have taken this job," Geo reassured her, the faint, but sincere smile never leaving her face.
"Of course," she replied with a nod and a smile. "Anyway, I'd better go. Good luck, Geo."
"Thank you, ma'am," she said, giving Miss Pauling a polite wave as the bespectacled woman jogged out of the foyer.
After she left, Soldier stepped forward, causing Geo to turn around and arch her eyebrow a second time. "Yes?"
"I would like to apologize for my breach of conduct, private!" he announced, giving her a stiff salute.
"I'll live, it's not like I could've done anything to stop you," she replied, giving Soldier a casual two-fingered salute before crossing her arms over her chest.
"Yeah, sorry about that," Scout apologized, sauntering up to her and sticking out his hand with an apologetic grin. "Geo, right? I'm Scout. If ya ever need to ask someone how things work around here, I'm your guy."
"I'll keep that in mind," Geo promised, her small smile turning into an amused smirk as she shook his hand. "If you know so much about how things work around here, mind introducing me to the rest of your teammates?"
"Sure, no problem!" he agreed, turning around to point at each of the mercenaries. "The big guy is Heavy, he's the one who knows all about weapons and stuff."
"You like horror stories?" the gargantuan Russian asked her. "Have not read them before."
"I'll let you borrow a few if you're really interested," she offered, raising her eyebrows expectantly.
Heavy smiled and inclined his head. "Спасибо," he thanked her, before making his way back to the library.
"That's Spy," Scout continued, gesturing to the Frenchman in question.
"Je vois que vous avez pris mon offre précédente," Spy remarked, regarding Geo with a self-satisfied smirk.
"J'ai fait," she replied coolly, an amused smirk of her own crossing her face. "Merci d'avoir apporté cette occasion à mon attention."
"De rien," he said, taking another drag from his cigarette and strolling out of the foyer. "J'espère que vous apprécierez votre séjour ici."
Scout gawked at the both of them as the conversation carried on, his mouth hanging slightly open, even after Spy left the room. "You can speak French?!" he asked incredulously, turning to face Geo with wide eyes.
"Yep. I'm thinking about learning another language later on," she admitted with a wry grin. "Haven't decided which one, though."
"Might I recommend German or Yiddish?" Medic suggested, offering his hand with a cool smile.
"I'll consider it," she replied, shaking his hand with a cool smile of her own.
"Wunderbar!" he said with a grin. "I trust you'll stop by my office later today? You still need to be calibrated into respawn, after all."
"After I get settled in," she promised with a small smile.
"Excellent! In that case, I vill see you soon, Geo." Having gotten what he came for, Medic turned on his heel and strode back into the infirmary, his hands clasped behind his back.
"That was Medic," Scout told her as soon as the infirmary doors swung shut. "He's a total nutcase, I'd avoid him, if I were you."
"But isn't it his job to heal you and such?" she inquired with a raised eyebrow. "So wouldn't that make 'avoiding him' a bit inconvenient for me?"
"Now, now, Scout, don't send her runnin' for the hills after she just got here," Engie drawled, holding his hand out to Geo with a reassuring grin. "The doc does his job well enough, but I will admit his bedside manner could use some work."
"Considering my rubbish bedside manner is partly why I'm here, I think we'll get along just fine," she said, returning his handshake and easygoing smile. "Geo."
"The name's Engineer, but everyone 'round here just calls me Engie," he introduced himself. "Glad to have ya on the team."
"Glad to be here," she replied, and Engie smiled and tipped his helmet to her, before putting his hands in his pockets and exiting the room.
Before Geo could turn to Scout again, she quickly sidestepped Pyro, who'd attempted to scoop her into a hug.
"Woah, nice dodge!" Scout whistled as Pyro turned back to face Geo, tilting their head curiously.
"I'm sorry, hugs make me…uncomfortable," she apologized, smiling weakly as she clasped her hands behind her back (where no one could see them shaking). "I hope I didn't…get off on the wrong foot because of this."
Pyro's expression was unfathomable behind the gas mask. Finally, they gave a muffled noise of cheerful affirmation and stuck their hand out.
Geo let out a quiet sigh of relief and shook Pyro's gloved hand. "I'm really sorry about that," she tried apologizing again, but Pyro shook their head firmly, retracting their hand to give them a thumbs up. They went back to Geo's crates and pulled out one of her blank sketchbooks, holding it out to her with a cheerful, "Mmph!"
"…You can draw?" she asked with a furrowed brow, to which Pyro responded by giving her a nod, then making a scribbling motion with his finger and pointing between them and Geo.
"You want to…draw with me?" she asked incredulously, and Pyro gave her another thumbs up and placed the sketchbook back into the crate.
"…If you really want to!" she eventually responded, sounding noticeably more enthusiastic than before as she gave Pyro an awkward smile. "It'd be nice to actually draw with someone for once."
Pyro made another muffled noise, waving cheerfully before exiting the room and retreating to his living quarters.
"…Are all of you this barmy?" Geo asked Scout after a moment, who blinked slightly in response, his confusion evident. "Crazy," she clarified, the prospect of which he looked highly offended by.
"Wait a minute, I'm not—!"
"If we weren't, we wouldn't have taken this job, lass!" Demo replied, shooting her an easy grin as he and Sniper walked up to her and Scout.
"Some of us are just better at hiding it than others," Sniper told her with a faint smirk. "You'll get used to it."
"So! I see yae have an eye for swords!" Demo remarked brightly. "D'ya have any others besides the ones in the crate?"
"We have a few other blades back home, but I prefer these a lot more," she replied enthusiastically. "I have so many of the same type of sword so I won't have to worry about replacing them if they break or become unusable."
"I gotcha, lass! Remind me ta introduce ya to Eyelander!" he said. "He's an enchanted claymore with a lust for heads, you'll love 'im!"
Geo looked surprisingly thoughtful at his offer. "I'll have to take you up on that," she mused. "An enchanted sword could be useful."
"Glad ta hear it!" he replied with a grin as he held out his hand. "Anyway, I'm the Demoman. Tall, dark, and silent over there is Sniper."
"Pleasure," the Australian greeted her, tipping his hat in her direction. "And welcome to Teufort."
"I can show ya to your room if you like," Scout offered with a grin. "I can help carry your stuff, too!"
"Y'sure you can pick up those crates with them scrawny arms o' yours?" Demo inquired, gesturing to Scout's admittedly skinny arms.
"Hey, my arms aren't scrawny!" he protested. "It isn't easy ta bash people's skulls in on a daily basis, y'know!"
"Then why don't I see a bit more muscle on ya?" he asked with a grin, elbowing Sniper conspiratorially, causing him to chuckle quietly.
"Oi, my stuff isn't gonna move itself," Geo reminded them, taking off a glove and snapping her fingers to grab their attention. "Scout, you gonna help or not?"
"Uh, yeah, right!" he replied, going over to pick up the crate of bedsheets. Geo pulled her glove back on, flexing her fingers once before walking over to pick up the crate of swords and stack it on top of her crate of personal items.
"See ya at dinner, lass!" Demo called after them with a grin.
"…You really don't like Medic, do you," Geo observed, arching an eyebrow as she adjusted her grip on the crates.
"Look, I'll admit the guy's crazy smart, but that still makes him crazy," he retorted. "He doesn't even have his license, why d'ya think they hired him in the first place?"
"The same reason they hired you: your natural charm and charisma," she replied dryly, a hint of a smirk playing at her lips.
"Man, first day here and you're already gettin' on my case," he groaned good-naturedly as they approached Geo's room.
"You'll get used to it," she promised, nudging the door open with her foot and dropping the crates onto the floor with a satisfied sigh.
"I've got seven older brothers, and I've been living with these knuckleheads for years now," he drawled, pointing to the hallway behind him as he dumped the crate onto the floor with a grin. "Believe me, I'm way more than used to it by now."
"Then don't get so defensive when people say your arms are scrawny," she shot back. "You're a mercenary, right? Develop thicker skin, or they'll eat you alive."
"I should be tellin' you that," he pointed out as he headed for the door. "You're the newbie here, not me."
"I'll be fine; like I told Miss Pauling, if I couldn't handle this job, I wouldn't have applied in the first place," she snipped.
"We'll just have to wait and see, then," he replied with a smirk. "I'll see you at dinner, yeah?"
A small smile flickered across her face as she waved him off. "See you at dinner."
Scout grinned and gave her a two-fingered salute, and then he was gone. As soon as he left, Geo let out a tired sigh and flopped onto the bare mattress, her engagement ring a cold, heavy weight underneath her shirt.
I'll set up later, she decided as she sat up again, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and dusting herself off. It's not like I have anything better to do.
Geo absently adjusted her collar, that damned ring serving as only a reminder that one wrong move would have her on a plane back to London, or worse—dead and buried in a shallow, unmarked grave.
Her eyes hardened, and she squared her shoulders and strode out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her before making her way to the infirmary and the life-changing surgery it would entail.
I'll prove my worth. To Mann Co. and my teammates. I couldn't do it back home, but I sure as hell can do it here.
No matter how many people I need to kill.