The pair's steps echoed down the hallway, crossing over the white tiles. The Pyro had a rather energetic stride, staring at the Scout and mumbling incoherently from time to time. The Scout did his best to be polite like his Ma told him to be, but most of the stuff the guy was saying went in one ear and out the other. It wasn't that he wasn't paying attention-The Pyro seemed like a nice enough person; he assumed the sounds emitting from the mask were parts of an interesting conversation, but he could only pick up a word or two in each sentence. "Uh... Sorry man. Say that again? Last time, I promise." The Scout smiled sheepishly, pushing his hands into his pockets. A huff of air blew out of the mouthpiece. The firebug looked like he was getting a bit impatient, but nonetheless repeated himself again, slower this time.
"Duh... Yuuh... Plhhy... Sphrtts?" The sentence definitely had been longer previously, but the Scout wasn't complaining about the simplification.
"Sports? Yeah, 'course!" The Scout smiled proudly, tipping his chin up slightly. "All'a my brothers played 'em, but I was the best once I caught up ta them, height-wise. Suckas didn't know what hit 'em." The Pyro nodded enthusiastically, apparently happy with this answer.
"Duh yuuh plhhy khhckbul?" The mask tilted to the side slightly.
"Kickball?" The Scout waited for the Pyro's nod of confirmation before continuing, looking ahead thoughtfully. "Ain't really a sport, but yeah, it's a good game. Is that what you guys do around here?" All he received in response to the question was a noncommittal shrug before the gasmask was mumbling out another question.
"Dhhd yuuh brnng nny muuphhys?" The lenses' stare seemed to intensify with this question, almost in a begging manner. Scout couldn't really put his finger on which one, but the look kind of reminded him of one of those cutesy cartoon characters.
He adjusted his hat slightly, giving the Pyro a confused look. "Mooffys? What?"
"Nuh! Muuphhys." With this repetition, nothing was achieved. The blank stare of the gasmask reflected an equally blank stare of the Scout's. The Pyro sighed slightly. Charades didn't really work with trying to explain a movie. "Mphh… Fullm… Nnd hactrrs! Nnd phpcurnn. Hn hheetrs."
Scout rubbed the back of his neck. "All I got out of that was… uh… 'Popcorn.'" He expected the Pyro to be disappointed, but instead the firebug nodded happily, clapping their hands for a moment before continuing.
"Hhe phlacce hhre yuuh heht phpcurnn hs hhe hheetr." He gave the new member an expectant look.
"Eating popcorn at a theatre, okay, okay, got it. What was the ques- Oh, right. Did you mean movies? Do I have any movies?" The Scout's mouth ran a mile a minute as he rambled through his thoughts, the Pyro giving hums of affirmation to spur him on. "Sorry pal, I don't have any'a those." Pyro looked very disappointed at this, hanging his head a bit. Even though the Scout knew it really wasn't his fault, he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt in his gut.
"Uuh. Uuhky."
"...Well, I mean…" The Scout paused slightly, mulling the idea in his head over. "I do have some comic books, though. Wanna read those instead?" The Scout was half kicking himself for offering them up; with a houseful of brothers, he always had to keep his comics out of the way of spilled coffee or other wreckages. Now that he thought about it, giving paper to a 'Pyro' probably wasn't the smartest idea he'd had all day. His mind changed ever-so-slightly as the firebug immediately perked up, looking near overjoyed with the proposal.
"Duh yuuh rhlly mhhn ht?" The lenses looked up to him, the Pyro's hands pulled towards his chest, almost nervously.
"Y...Yeah. Look, just don't burn them or nothin, got it?" He crossed his arms, giving the Pyro a critical look. This look was lost between them, as the Pyro was already clapping excitedly to themselves, oblivious.
Steps approaching from the opposite end of the hall brought the pair out of their conversation, looking ahead to see the Sniper. There surprisingly was no evidence of his broken nose; the rangy bushman tipped his hat lightly in recognition as they passed. The doors of the infirmary waited for them at the end, a gray steel against the light blue painted walls. There was a single, small window on each of the double doors. The way the lights hit the slightly weathered metal made it reminiscent of an ominous hallway from a horror movie. The Scout swallowed slightly.
Pyro, however, was quick to approach the doors, completely comfortable with the atmosphere. Noticing the Scout's hesitation, he mumbled something the Scout could not catch, beckoning him to follow as he entered through one of the doors. The Scout followed cautiously, finding that the lighting in the infirmary was a lot less unnerving than outside it. The shine of polished metal instruments met his vision, along with neatly labeled vials and bottles arranged on shelves. He assumed that in the several cabinets, even more resources were stored. Just from the condition that the room was maintained, it was obvious to see that the Medic was organized and prided himself with his work.
Off in the far corner, seated at a desk, was the Medic speaking to a rather large man. The doctor clipped his sentence short as they entered, standing to meet them. The Heavy, Scout felt safe to assume, rose from a chair beside the desk and followed suit.
"Ah, Herr Pyro! Thank you for bringing Herr Scout." The voice had a distinct accent to it, not unlike many of the other team members. From looking at the Medic, the Scout could tell he was older than most of the other mercenaries. He flashed the two of them a smile before approaching some of his equipment. "I vas starting to vonder if he vould not show up at all! Ach, I am sure you two remember vhen I had to hunt Herr Sniper down to put his in! Such a dummkopf." The Medic shook his head, tutting. The Pyro nodded obediently, the Heavy rumbling out a bit of laughter.
"Tiny man worry more than most." The massive man also had an odd accent, and spoke a bit oddly, like he did not fully grasp the language yet. His size combined with his voice made him more than a bit intimidating, but the Scout kept in mind the Engineer's description. "Is not good for his health, yes?" The Heavy gave the Medic a joking smile, the doctor immediately catching on.
"Ah, yes. Perhaps I should get him on mein operating table, just to check!" The two burst into laughter, quickly extinguishing it however at the cautious look the Scout was giving them. "Ach, I vas just joking, Herr Scout. You, and Herr Sniper, have nothing to vorry about. I am a man of my vord, after all."
"Yeah… If ya say so, I guess." The Scout looked to the Pyro, who nodded in approval. He shifted his weight nervously. "Wait, so what do I gotta do here?"
"All you have to do is remain unconscious. I vill be the one doing the vork," the Medic sighed, pulling on a pair of blue rubber gloves.
The Heavy patted the man on the shoulder. "Doktor is very skilled. Leetle Scout has nothing to worry for." He looked to the preparing doctor to the rest of the room, walking to the infirmary doors before turning back. "Come, leetle Pyro. Leave them to their work, да?" The Pyro waved goodbye to Scout to the Scout's dismay, following the Russian out of the infirmary. This was going to be fun.
