Author's Note: Hey guys, Prinz again. I read over my last few chapters a couple times and I was all like, "WDF? That's not what I said!" And then I realized. I wasn't putting enough detail into the story, so it didn't paint the pictures I had in my mind. So for this chapter and the next one, I was trying really hard to help people get immersed into the feel of the respawn room and such. Thanks for reading!
Chapter : Meeting The Team
Scout
On the Administrator's count, the blackness around me went white, blindingly white. I could feel the nerves in my body starting to become active, returning feeling and movement to my body, cell by cell. And as if my body had teleported, no, rematerialized, I was in a suddenly different setting. The floor was an amazingly smooth, white tile, and the walls were nicely polished red wood, likely oak. I could have gaped at the cleanliness forever, as it was much different than my orn home, if I had not looked around me and seen the other people.
Even though we were all wearing the same color, red, we were a very diverse group of people. I would have been surprised, at the very least, had I not read my contract and known the appearances of each class. Closest to me was the large, bear-like Heavy, and the aged, thin Medic. Most, including me, had a look of confusion and awe on their faces, wondering of the magic behind our apparition. All except for the Demoman, standing in the back, looking stern. Experienced, even.
"Your first mission begins in two hours. Become... Acquainted."
Soldier
In all of Hell's names, I have never seen anything like what has happened in this room today. People, like stars, just appearing out of nowhere! But that is for another time, I suppose. I have two hours to become familiar with the terrain, and to organize this team. I take my missions seriously. As the diverse group around me walked out of the sparkling spawn room, I noticed a large locker with a red cross on it. Curious, I opened it and found what seemed to be an endless supply of medicine and ammunition. Nine large boxes were inside, each with a label. I removed the one labeled "Soldier" and opened it, the rest of the team, except the Demoman, watching me. Inside were many parts of weapons, a shovel, and an instruction manual. On top was a note labeled "The RED Team." I read it aloud.
"RED Team. Congratulations, and welcome to the Team Fortress Arena! You are participating in a tournament designed for the best and worse of field combat." The Scout blushed at the word 'worst,' so I made a mental note to spend some personal training time with him later. "Your goal changes based on the arena we place you in each week. Rounds will last as long as needed, from mere hours to days. You will find all the supplies you need in the same locker you found this crate in. The tournament operates in a way similar to most of your native sports. There is a preseason, a post season, and a playoffs. Beware, though. You all will die, many times. Our coveted respawn system will in a timely manner. If you feel this as unable to bear, irresponsible, or un-required, please commit suicide now, because it is not on." This statement illicited a deep shiver in the spines of most of the group, except of course for the Demoman. Why was this man so solid? Is he soulless? I decided to continue instead of worry about him for longer, though. "In all teams as yours is only one of many, is a tourney veteran. In your case, this is your Demoman. And that explained much. The entire team turned to stare at him. He simply smirked.
"Go on," he urged.
"He has been a player for ten years, the longest of the entire tournament. It'd be wise to do as he advises. Otherwise, the Soldier is your official team leader." I smiled and looked up at the team. This note confirmed what I had read in my contract. And all but the Demoman and Heavy smiled back to me.
Heavy
This man is not "leading" me anywhere. I only follow the boss. My family. My capo. Just the thought of being led by anyone other than my family angered me. I took my box of weapons from the locker in front of us and left the room, everyone staring at me with mouths agape. All except for the Demoman, who had obviously heard all of this before, who decided to take his box and follow me out. I noticed that our boxes were significantly bigger than the rest. Mine specifically weighed about 160 kilograms. Carrying it easily with this new body, I found a nice little dark corner of this building called "Teufort" to open it. Gently, I peeled off tape and staples to view it's contents.
E il mio dio, erano belli.