The Soldier considered himself the best there was. Not one of the best- the best. With a glass-shattering cry of "Last one alive, lock the door!", he marched out of the RED base and shot rockets at everything that moved. This time, that involved sentries, engineers and snipers. The BLU team seemed almost dangerously fond of their sentries, and the RED soldier was dangerously fond of destroying them. He was rarely bested by them, his rocket launcher having a much further range; this meant he could quite easily take out the engineers along with them with only a few well-placed rockets. The snipers, too, appeared oblivious to his existence, as they stood in the same place every time he saw them, making it far too easy to explode them into pieces.
The man's brutal tactics and lack of mercy for anyone- including his own team- meant he was literally unable to do anything but fight. Working for the mysterious company was all he could do with his life, having attempted to work for various branches of the military and being denied from each one. He never understood this himself, but the problem would be clear to anyone else: he was just too violent. Anyone who tried to suggest this to him, however, would ultimately end up with a shovel to the back of the head. The soldier wouldn't waste his rockets on his own team, although he had no issues with beating them to death with his beloved shovel. It was like a friend to him, something which never failed him and was quite pleased to carve skulls open in one blow. That, to him, friendship, yet another thing which had always escaped his understanding.
A loud, spinning noise jolted the man from his thoughts of the joys of battle, almost immediately recognisable as the BLU heavy's minigun being spun up. Panicking, the soldier blasted his remaining rockets at the general direction of the noise, missing with every single one. Belting out curses at his own stupidity, it wasn't long before he fell, riddled with bullets. The respawn room was cold, and his arm hurt, but he didn't have time to complain. According to the announcement, their briefcase had just been dropped. Useless pyro again, eh? He muttered something under his breath as he reached for his rocket launcher on the bench next to him, pausing as he saw someone slowly fade into the room. The pyro, no less. Yelling something involving the words 'maggot', as usual, he marched out of the room with all of his weapons, content that he'd shown the pyro that failure would NOT be tolerated on HIS team. He felt as though it was his job to make sure the team remained intact, that there were no traitors, that everyone knew their place- that is, below him. He was the best on the team, in his mind, the most accurate, the most successful, the most efficient...
And the only sane man on the team! He finished the thought with a snarl as the BLU heavy fell to a critical rocket.
"CROCKET!" He screamed out at his fallen enemy instinctively, mocking a salute with his thumb and finger forming an 'L' on his forehead as he laughed, grinning from ear to ear. Critical rockets were approximately three times as damaging as his normal rockets. It always made him at least chuckle to himself whenever he managed to score one, especially if his foe died as a result...and that was usually true, meaning he made a slight habit of laughing at his defeated opponent, despite the fact that this often ended with him being attacked by BLUs. He had time to laugh now, though, as he was out of sight of the snipers and he knew the other BLU team members were busy. They were busy trying to get their intelligence back, to be specific, and this was confirmed when the rushed out of the tunnel under the bridge to go after the RED pyro. They'd been lured out by his gunfire- the soldier could only presume he had twitched with his finger hovering over the trigger or he'd seen a spy. The latter was disproved when the other team's spy ran out of the tunnel at the back of his team. Muttering his line of "You are all weak. You are all bleeders." in as quiet a voice as he could manage (which, apparently, was more comparable to shouting), he took the opportunity to shoot them all with his rocket launcher while they were distracted, and took out a good few of those in the stampede. He guessed, as the enemy Scout shouted something that he didn't quite pick up, that there was no physically possible chance that the pyro, with his amount of skill, could take on the rest.
So, despite his mind screaming at him to let the maggot take what was coming to him, he leapt into the water, calling out "SCREAMIN' EAGLES!" and swapping his rocket launcher for his more reliable shotgun. Besides, his rockets wouldn't explode as much in the tunnels, where the water was just enough to stop the pyro's fire from being effective.
"Boo-yaah!" He shot down the BLU spy, adding "Gotcha, crouton!" to his triumphant cries.
"Pa-pow, city boy!" The scout was next to fall to the psyched-up mercenary's gun. The BLU soldier following the pyro barely had time to turn around before he was greeted by a shovel to the arm. With a quick salute to the Pyro, who in turn gave a grateful wave, the two soldiers took turns shooting, whacking and dodging each other, calling out various taunts and insults as they did so. At one point they both switched to their rocket launchers, dangerous for both in such an enclosed space; but the RED soldier had experienced such combat before. It wasn't exactly common for him to be battling at close-range with his counterpart, but it wasn't the first time they'd fought.
In fact, in the same round, the RED soldier had managed to dominate- their term which they used to describe constantly defeating an opponent- his counterpart twice, each time with a cry of "DOMINATED!" along with his usual one-liners. The soldier didn't question this act of his, since the other classes also had a habit of mocking their opponents after they were dead, both with actions and words. The soldiers in particular, however, had a nasty talent for throwing personal insults at their foes. For each opponent they had several nicknames, designed- if such a word can be used to describe insults which are created in the soldiers' minds- to pour salt into their wounds. Of course, they were dead, but the respawn system meant they could hear them all the same. More than once the soldier had seen a slain Engie's mouth curl into a frown as he lay on the receiving end of the soldier's harsh, mocking words.
And, as usual, there was no shortage of abuse from both sides as they fought each other. Eventually they both decided to use their melee weapons, the BLU soldier having his Equalizer- a strange pickaxe which seemed to make him actually move faster- and the RED staying faithful to his trusty shovel. Grunts of pain followed each successful hit, the RED soldier wishing he could just finish his combatant with his rocket launcher, yet knowing it would be near useless against him. He desperately tried to recall the many years of training he'd put himself through, hoping he would remember some secret method of outsmarting what he refused to consider a blue-uniformed version of himself. In reality, they were different people, but the company who hired them both to fight had been careful to truly mess with their heads by ensuring they were from the same country, had the same habits and mentality and the same weapon specialisation. It caused further confusion when there was more than one of the same class on the same team- a problem avoided in the case of the Soldier (more than one would have surely ended in chaos for both teams) yet completely ignored in the case of the Sniper or Engineer.
Speaking of the other classes, why was he battling this hippie on his own? He didn't need help- oh no, he would never accept help even if it was readily available- but the American couldn't help but wondering why none of his team had considered helping. The pyro could have flanked the man from behind with his flamethrower, as despite the water being present, it did not protect anyone's upper body or legs from fire unless they threw themselves to the ground. That, of course, was a mistake reserved only for the true idiots of the battle, since throwing yourself to the ground in the presence of a pyro meant death by axe or gun anyway. Even with his looming insanity and violent outbursts, the soldier was not an idiot, and he knew the man he was fighting at that moment wasn't, either. If he was, the fight would have been over within seconds, but it lasted for what seemed like forever.
In an amusing end to the battle, both soldiers killed the other with a quick swipe to the neck. They glared at their opponent as they fell, shouting "I never liked you!" and "Go to hell, hippie!" in a half-hearted attempt to at least win the verbal war against each other. The RED soldier mentally groaned as the all too familiar shades of the respawn room came into view and the announcement he had been waiting for was called out.
"Success! We have secured the enemy intelligence."
