Trusting You: Chapter Two: Introductions and Plans
The sun was just going down after a long day of combat. Most of the team wars badly injured, safe for the Medic, Spy, and Scout (though he'd sprained his ankle, and stated he could take care of it himself). While Medic was treating their injured teammates, the two men sat in the main, sort of "common room", of the base.
"What d'you think this girl's gonna be like?" the Scout asked suddenly, breaking the silence as he lay on his back on one of the couches, looking at the ceiling.
"We'll find out when she arrives," the Spy told him. Although, he'd been wondering the same thing these past few days.
It seemed everybody was curious about their soon-to-be teammate. A room had been quickly set up by the Engineer, across from Sniper's assigned room (though he rarely ever used it, preferring to stay in his camper-van), and next-door to Spy's room. They had considered putting her across from Scout, though then decided against it for more reasons than they could really keep track of. Engineer had put the room together quickly. It wasn't much; a bed, desk, chair, bookcase, and a sort of double-closet were all that the room contained. It was very much like all the other rooms, to be honest, with a few shelves attacked to the walls for storage space, and a full-length mirror on the wall beside the door. The wooden door remain bare of any markings, unlike all the others, on which hung a small sign with the class of the occupant painted on, while the key to the new room hung on the doorknob.
Soon, there was the sound of an announcement coming over the base speakers. "Passenger transport vehicle incoming".
"That must be her," Spy said, setting the book he was reading aside. The tall, lanky Frenchman stood, stretching his back a bit.
"Hell yeah!" exclaimed Scout, as he jumped up from his position on the couch. Right as he put weight on his injured ankle, though, he let out a quick shout of pain, before falling back to sit on the couch behind him. The young Bostonian glared as his French ally chuckled at him. "Shut up," he spat.
The Spy chuckled more, lighting the cigarette that hung from between his lips. "You keep off that ankle," he said, leaving with a slight wave behind him.
He didn't have far to go, really. The entry bay to the base was only a few halls away. As the masked Frenchman stepped through the large door, he saw a red car just pulling in. The tinted windows his the people inside from view. The engine stopped, the passenger door opened, and out stepped the young woman from the backseat. As she got out of the vehicle, she pulled a single black suitcase out behind her.
Spy hadn't expected his new teammate to be so clean-cut. She wore a simple black skirt that came to her knees, a red blouse with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and red ankle-high boots with a one-inch blocked heel. Her skin was lightly tanned, and well taken care of. The young woman's hair was dark brown, nearly black, and tied back in a neat bun, with bangs falling in a curtain just passed her eyebrows. Her eyes were something else altogether. They were both different, with the left one being a sky blue color, and stunningly clear, while the right was a light brown, drastically contrasting its counterpart. She seemed simple, and almost dainty, as if she shouldn't be part of a team of rugged mercenaries. But, here she was, and that was all that mattered.
"Bonjour," the man stated as he stepped closer.
"Hello," the woman stated in reply. "You must be the team's Spy," she said.
"Oui, I am. But you, as all of the others, may call me Parvis, if you wish," Spy replied, looking down at the young woman before him.
The brown-haired woman smiled a bit and nodded, "It suits you," she said. "The name means fortunate or lucky, after all".
"So it does. I suppose it does work well, then,"
"And, I'm Ivy, by the way. It's a pleasure to meet you,"
"The pleasure is all mine,"
Ivy simply nodded, her soft, kind expression never changing. After another minute, the car behind them pulled away, and the larger, garage-style door closed with a metallic thud against the hard dirt ground. The pair then began to head towards the main area where the rest of the team was now assembled. They climbed the short wooden staircase, and made their way through the maze of halls.
'This one'll be easy,' Ivy thought. 'He's thinner than I am, though taller, it shouldn't take too much effort to take him down if the timing is right.'
Parvis and Ivy soon arrived at the open entrance to the large room. As their steps could be heard, several of the other team members looked up from whatever they were doing. After maybe thirty seconds of silence, a whistle came from one of the men.
"Robert, that was uncalled for," Parvis said, looking over at the couch where the Scout was still on his back.
"You know I hate that name!" the Bostonian shouted.
"Shut up! You little babies are scaring Sasha!" shouted a booming voice from the corner of the room.
"It's a gun, you bit oaf! It ain't alive!"
"Stoppen! Shut up, you dummkopfs!" a heavily German-accented voice cut in, managing to silence the others before anyone else decided to join in on the shouting.
As all this went on, Ivy stood silent, watching and listening to the men argue. She was analyzing the interactions between them, trying to think about which would be the easiest to take out, and which would put up more of a fight.
It seemed to her that the easier men would be Parvis, the Sniper, and the Engineer. Then maybe the Medic, Scout, and Pyro (as long as she could disarm him). The largest and strongest of the group, the Soldier, Demoman, and Heavy would prove to be the most difficult, as they were each roughly twice her size (nearly three times, in Heavy's case). But, these were only first impressions, and appearance can differ greatly from reality. She had time, though. It wasn't as much as she would have liked, but it was time. Things would have to simply come as they would, the pieces fall where they may, and she'd work out the rest.
"Uh, hello? Anybody in there?" a call came, snapping Ivy out of her thoughts. A bandaged hand was waving mere inches from her face, trying to get some kind of reaction from the young woman. She rolled her eyes and pushed the hand away from her face. "Hey, lights're on and there's someone home!" the Bostonian joked.
'There'll be no remorse with this one,' Ivy thought.
"Name's Robbie," the young man stated, his hand out for a handshake.
"Ivy," the young woman replied, shaking his hand. His grip was strong, and the tips of his fingers were rough ad calloused.
"Robert is our Scout," Parvis explained. "That man with the large gun is Mikhail; our Heavy. Those three at the table are our Engineer; Dell, Soldier, and Demoman, Tavish. The two playing darts are our Medic and Sniper, Markel and Mundy," he continued, motioning to each of the other men in the room. All but one, who sat alone in the corner, staring at the flame of a lighter.
"And that's the Pyro?" Ivy said, her statement sounding more like a question than she had intended, sense the answer was obvious.
"Yeah. None of us know anything about 'em, though," Robbie said.
Ivy looked at the figure in the corner for another moment, before starting to walk over to them. Several of the other men looked on, unsure of what the young woman was up to. The Soldier made his way slowly to the fire-extinguisher, in case anything were to happen.
Ivy knelt down in front of the masked figure. His focus on the flame didn't break until he felt a tap on the arm of his flame-retardant suit. He flicked the lighter shut, and turned his masked face up towards the dark haired female before him.
"Mmph," the Pyro mumbled through his mask. The sound resembled a sort of 'hello'.
"Hi there," Ivy replied. "We're all wondering what your name is, what we could call you. Could you tell us?" she asked, her voice calm, as she didn't want to startle or otherwise break the calm demeanor the Pyro was exhibiting.
"Mmlph-mmph," the sitting figure replied. The response was too muffled to make out.
"I'm sorry, but we can't understand you through your mask,"
The Pyro was silent for a moment before he seemed to come up with an idea. The lighter was set aside, and gloved fingers began to form different shapes. Pyro seemed to by signing the letters of his name to reply.
"Wait, slow down, okay? Start over for me, I'm a little rusty,"
The masked head nodded, and slowed the motions as he started again. K-E-L-V-I-N.
"Kelvin? That's your name?"
The Pyro nodded.
Ivy smiled kindly as she stood back up, and Kelvin went back to admiring his lighter. "Well, now we know," she said, turning to the others. "Even if it isn't his real name, at least it's something to call him."
The others all nodded, though most seemed more surprised than anything else. Soldier set the fire-extinguisher away, as everyone else went back to what they had been doing. Ivy was unsure of what she should do at this point. That was until a tall man, dressed in dark brown slacks, the cuffs tucked into his boots, a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up, red tie, tan waistcoat, and small round glasses walked up to her. The team's Medic, if she remembered correctly. She looked up at him, as the tall German adjusted his spectacles on his nose.
"Hallo," the man greeted. His accent was very obviously German, and fairly heavy, at that.
Ivy nodded in silent greeting, shaking the man's hand. Like Robbie, Markel's grip was strong, but not nearly as rough or calloused. "It's a pleasure," she said.
"If you vould follow me, zere are a few zings zat need to be taken care of," Markel said, his accent combined with the devilish sort of grin that crossed his featured, bearing the man's sharp canines, sent a small shiver down Ivy's spine.
"Um, alright,"
At that, the doctor nodded, and he began to walk out of the room. Ivy followed the tall German out into the hall, falling into step beside him in the wide corridor. The pair made their way through several hallways, making multiple turns through the maze of worn wood and scorched metal. To Ivy, the air seemed tense, with only the sound of their shoes contacting the floor to break the silence that surrounded them.
Eventually, they came to a set of swinging double-doors. Markel pushed one open and stepped into the large room behind it, holding the door open for Ivy. The young woman entered warily. She had never been fond of doctors, not in the slightest.
The room was fairly dimly lit, with a large operating lamp over the table in the center. As Ivy looked at the walls, she saw multiple metal cabinets, some open, some shut. The open cabinets contained all sorts of medicine bottles and kits, the sight of which caused Ivy to swallow hard. Her eyes continued around the room, stopping on a small table beside the operating table, on which sat multiple surgical instruments that caught and reflected the light. It sent a shiver down the young woman's spine.
"Please, step behind zee curtain over zere and remove your blouse, and preferably your brassier, as vell, and put on a gown for me," Markel instructed, motioning over to a privacy curtain in the corner of the room. "Ensure the ties are in the front, it makes things easier."
Ivy gave a small nod and went over into the corner of the room. She stepped behind the curtain and took off the red blouse she had on, along with the red undershirt and her brassier, tucking the latter in between her shirts and placing them on a chair. The young woman slipped on one of the red-tinted gowns and tied it in the front before emerging from behind the curtain.
"Good. Now, please get up onto the table. I vill be vith you in just a moment," the German told her as he rinsed the soap from his hands and wrists.
Ivy struggled for a second before getting herself onto the table. The thin parchment paper crinkled beneath her as she settled herself. She tried to occupy her mind as she waited, focusing on her plan, rather than her situation.
'I can probably take out the Spy and Scout with my knife, no doubt about that. Maybe the Engineer, too, as long as I can get close to him, same foes for the sniper. The Castle would take down the Soldier and Pyro easily, and maybe the Medic… Would the Jackal be overkill on the Demo and Heavy?' the young woman's mind raced as her thoughts distracted her from whatever Markel was doing.
"Now," Markel said. His voice pulled Ivy from her thoughts. "Prepare for your examination."
That smirk again, as devilish as before. It sent a chill down Ivy's spine, making her blood run cold. There was only one thing she could think after hearing those words, and seeing that smirk, 'Oh shit…'
((So, just to clear a couple of things up, I decided that this would be a bit better if the classes all had proper names, and so that's what happened. I used most of the cannon names that are given to the characters, or at least the ones I could find. So, to make sure it makes sense, here they are; Heavy is Mikhail, Engineer is Dell Conagher, Demo is Tavish DeGroot, Sniper is Mundy. Sense the others don't have known names, I just gave them some, so Scout is Robert/Robbie, Spy is Parvis (pronounced Par-vees), Medic is Markel, Pyro is Kelvin, and Soldier just doesn't have a name, because I think it works a little better.))
