Reliable Excavation Demolition Headquarters, Teufort, New Mexico
August 2nd 1969
After the madness of battle that is a constant companion to the mercenaries of RED, it was always a sigh of relief when the firefights end and ceasefire begins. Granted, it never meant that safety was guaranteed, but it did save the team from the painful and nauseating trips through respawn at least. Most of the time.
Out of all of them, it was safe to say that the Engineer was the most relieved after the end of this particular battle. Constantly having his sentries and dispensers destroyed, being caught unaware by the enemy Spy- the list of problems for the Texan labourer never ended. He let out a sigh as he entered his workshop within the RED headquarters.
Here, in the dusty plains of New Mexico- which was a few miles from the town of Teufort- it isn't an easy life for the mercenaries of RED, but it wasn't one that any of them would change for the world. After all, how many people can claim that they not only openly commit the most gruesome of offences on other human beings without consequences, but also are able to completely cheat death itself? Granted, the respawn system wasn't a flawless one, but it kept them in the land of the living while still retaining every aspect of their beings. Frankly, Engineer had wanted to tinker with the miraculous machine, as he had a hunch on what made it work, but unfortunately his contract refrained him from touching it so he couldn't find out if he was right. Still, TF Industries and Mann Co. continuously provided him with more than enough equipment to bury his claws into, so he didn't want for anything really.
Once within his little corner of solitude, Engineer dropped down the crate of equipment he was carrying into a nearby corner, letting out a huff upon the loss of the weight. It wasn't that he was unfit- as the years he spent rushing around fixing his machines and fighting for his life kept him trim- but he wouldn't really claim that he was a very energetic man to begin with. Hell, just the single trip from his old beaten up truck to his workshop- whilst carrying a medium sized crate- caused him to begin sweating under his overalls. It wasn't the end of it either, as there still remained the rest of his things in his truck too, but he decided that could wait for now. After all, it was nearing dinner time and Engineer wanted to grab a fair share before any of his team mates nabbed them first.
Therefore, the Texan immediately headed straight for the base's mess hall, being sure to lock the workshop door behind him. It wasn't that he didn't trust his team, it was just force of habit, one that he wasn't going to break any time soon.
After being under the employment of TF Industries for nearly two years now, finding his way to the rec. room and mess was muscle memory at this point, so it didn't take Engineer long to arrive. But as it turned out, he wasn't the first one here like he'd been hoping. Even with his head buried in the fridge, Engineer quickly recognised the form of the team's Scout. He was a lithe lad, clad in a standard issue red shirt, hockey pants and sport cleats. Even with his head hidden behind the fridge door, Engineer could still picture the kid's long face shadowed by his baseball hat and headset.
Before the older man could say anything, Scout backed out from the fridge, half a sandwich in one hand and a can of the lad's favourite BONK! Atomic energy drink in the other. Also he had a half consumed something hanging out of his mouth. Upon seeing the Engineer, the boy from Boston grinned around the food, a muffled sound of dismissed greeting coupled with a nod was directed to the Texan before he turned away.
Sighing as the boy retreated to the dining table in the neighbouring room, Engineer moved to the fridge next. Upon taking the time to peruse the products within, he concluded that nothing in there really caught his fancy. Closing it up, he started toward the pantry cupboard just as the sounds of heavy footsteps stomped into the room. Glancing over to the entrance, Engineer immediately spotted the team's heavy weapon's specialist and team medic. Heavy and Medic respectively.
The Texan smiled politely, tipping his hard-hat to the two as they stepped further in. "Evenin' fellas." he greeted.
Heavy smiled at the shorter man as he walked to the fridge. "Tis good evening, Engie." the bear of a man said back, still clad in his red shirt, dark jacket and bandoleer of bullets, his combat pants and steel toe-cap boots. Even though the Russian towered over Engineer, the labourer wasn't intimidated by the man in the slightest, as it had been proven that despite Heavy's more than enthusiastic attitude on the battlefield, he was a fairly laid back man when treated politely.
As Heavy studied the fridge's contents, Medic smiled at Engineer. "Gutan abend, Herr Engineer. It is a good one, yes?" the man said as he folded his hands behind his back, which was devoid of the usual red rubber gloves he tended to wear to battle. In fact, his long medical coat was absent too, leaving him in only his shirt, waist coat, pants and boots.
Just as Engineer was about to reply to the German, that was when a deep bark of discontent erupted from Heavy. Looking at the man, it was found that the Russian was gripping the edges of the fridge with a tight hold. "Where is sandvich?!" the behemoth man growled.
"What's that pardner?" Engineer asked hesitantly, a bit of worry gripping his conscience.
Heavy thrust his head quickly out of the fridge, a deep scowl on his face as he slammed the door shut, causing what was inside to clatter and the appliance to shift. His large bear-like hands were clenched into fists as the Russian's nose scrunched up and relax continuously. Such a thing almost made him look like an angry bull about to charge and if Engineer focused hard enough, he swore he could see steam puffing out the man's nostrils.
However before Heavy could speak again, that was when- as if on cue- the Scout re-emerged from the mess hall. And of course, low and behold, there was a half eaten sandwich in his hands. "'Ey yo, the hell's all the ruckus? I'm tryin' ta eat here!" he yelled out to his team mates, a scowl on his face too.
Seeing all the evidence before him, Engineer had one moment to pinch the bridge of his nose as he mentally cursed his luck, counting down the seconds before the freight-train would hit the station at full speed.
Heavy's head swung round toward Scout, and upon seeing the sandwich- his sandwich- in the Bostonian's hands, something cracked in the Russian's mind. A split second later, the large man let out an ear-shattering roar, charging directly at the smaller man with murder in his eyes. As that happened, the young man's eyes widened, recognising utter rage when he saw it. While Scout was quite headstrong and mouthy at times, even he understood when it was a good idea to make a hasty retreat. Especially with a much bigger man looking to tear him a new one.
With that in mind, the young Bostonian immediately dropped what he was holding and turned tail, dashing back into the mess hall in a single move like his behind was on fire, the enraged Russian hot on his tail.
Within seconds, Engineer and Medic heard the distinct sounds of a table being flipped and crockery smashing on the hard floor. The two exchanged glances before sighing. Not even twenty minutes back from battle and already they have a fight breaking out. At that moment though, that was when the two heard another yell coming from outside the kitchen door. "The bloody 'ell's gooin' on in 'ere?!"
Turning, the forms of Demoman and Sniper emerged through the doorway, both with frowns on their faces. It was obvious the one who spoke out was Demoman, as the distinct Scottish slur gave him away in an instant.
"Scout." both Medic and Engineer said at the same time, as though it was the most obvious answer in the world. It was clear there was no further explanation needed, as both Demoman and Sniper nodded their heads with a grunt of unsurprised understanding.
"The bloody tyke at it again, 'ey?" Sniper asked rhetorically, knowing full well how irritating the young Bostonian can be. It was no wonder Heavy was trying to kill him, since if Sniper wasn't so easygoing he was sure that he would have blown the kid's head off thrice over by now.
Shrugging, Engineer began to make his way to the mess hall to see if he could defuse the situation. "Well, best make sure they don't go and kill each other. Last thing we need is ta find replacements for them two."
"Aye, right behind ya lad." Demoman responded as he followed the Texan to the mess hall.
Stepping in, the two was surprised to find how much chaos had ensued between their two team mates in less than a minute. The long dining table that the team often ate at was completely tipped over, plates and cups that had been left behind prior to their latest mission had been caught in the crossfire, smashed to pieces upon the concrete floor. At the centre of it all, Heavy was screaming out in rage while trying to grab Scout. The Bostonian was thus far managing to keep himself from being torn apart by Heavy, as his smaller and more athletic form worked to his advantage as he constantly slipped around the Russian's attacks.
The moment Demoman and Engineer stepped fully into the room, that was when Scout dashed under Heavy's massive swiping arm, grabbing the bigger man's leg and pulled. Such a thing would be quite difficult to manage in most scenarios, but Scout was an accomplished scrapper and has already proven in the past that he can outwit his opponents despite being weaker than them. Therefore, when Scout pulled Heavy's leg, the much larger man was unprepared for it which caused him to topple forward. The Russian managed to maintain his balance, which prevented him from falling flat on his face, but in the next second Scout leapt up and straddled the man's shoulders.
Heavy yelled out in rage as Scout hooked his fingers in random areas of his face and pulled, making him stumble as the young man threw his weight around. Within seconds, Scout began beating at the top of Heavy's bald head, the bigger man's roars increasing as his arms flailed about in an attempt to grab the jackrabbit of a man. While that was going on, Scout had begun to fear less for his physical well being and treated the thrashing man like he was a bucking bronco, swinging one arm around as if he was twirling a lasso while hooting joyfully.
Seeing that this was going too far, Engineer quickly attempted to step in before things got worse, Demoman right behind him to offer support. "Hey hey hey!" he yelled out over the shouting, trying to get in closer to them whilst also trying to avoid Heavy's beefy arms. Having been beaten down by the BLU's Heavy in the past, he wasn't entirely keen on repeating that experience with his own team's Heavy. "You boys best stop that horseplayin' right now 'fore someone gets-" however while he was attempting to gain the two's attention, the situation took a turn.
It started when Heavy managed to grab hold of Scout's leg, his massive hand clamping down on the young man's calf in a vice-like grip. Half a second later, Heavy yanked Scout off his shoulders and immediately threw him across the room, causing the Bostonian to fly in Demoman's direction with a loud yelp. Luckily for the Scot, even with his limited depth perception, he managed to dodge the incoming projectile that was Scout by hitting the deck, allowing the young man to fly over his head.
However it didn't stop there. It had seemed at first glance that Scout would smack directly into the wall or maybe even fly through the doorway into the rec. room, but that turned out not to be the case. With timing that seemed all too perfect- or completely unfortunate in this case- the Spy just so happened to appear in the doorway at the precise moment Scout came hurtling towards it. The tall man hidden by a balaclava and clad in a red pinstripe suit had no time to react, except for his eyes to widen in shock, as Scout crashed directly into his chest sending both of them tumbling unceremoniously to the ground.
As one, those in vicinity of this situation winced. Despite the fact that the air filled with silence, it didn't mean that would last very long, as each of them have known each other for two years now and knew that things were about to turn sour very fast once Spy regained his bearings. Needless to say, they knew this will not be pretty.
True to form, Spy recovered all to soon, scowling coldly down at the young man that was still sprawled across his torso. On his part, Scout grinned uneasily with a nervous chuckle as he took in Spy's acidic glare, watching the older man's face twitch in barely contained rage.
After a few tense moments, Spy finally spoke in a dangerously low voice. "Get... Off... Me."
Wasting no time at all, Scout immediately sprung off the angry Frenchman, taking a few steps back and raising his palms up in a sign of surrender. "'Ey sorry man!" he told him as Spy pulled himself off the ground and attempted to straighten his suit. "But I swear it weren't my fault! It was the fatman, a'ight, he was the one who threw me toward ya!"
Looking toward the accused man, Spy noted that Heavy did indeed have a somewhat bashful look on his face and was shrugging his shoulders. His way of saying sorry in a sense. Either way, the Frenchman sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in obvious irritation. "I am surrounded by imbeciles."
Sighing himself, Engineer glanced between Heavy and Scout. "Look you two, is it really that hard for y'all not ta cause a ruckus? We've barely been back twenty minutes and already ya caused a right state. Could it be possible that we can avoid creatin' a catastrophe fer just one day?" No one replied to him of course, but Engineer was beyond caring at this point. Sighing again, he massaged under his hard-hat as a headache began to make itself known before he continued. "Come on, best get this place cleaned up so we can eat."
What followed his proposal was grumbles of irritation, as all present mercenaries were tired and hungry and in no mood for cleaning up. Even still, with the mess as wrecked as it was they knew not to argue and began to clear up.
As the table had just been flipped back onto its legs, it was at that point that another body entered the mess hall. It was revealed to be the Soldier, dressed immaculately in his red uniform with his helmet still in place atop his head, the steel hat balancing precariously and rocking with his every movement. As he glanced around- how he saw anything with his helmet hanging over his eyes was anyone's guess- assessing the little mess that hadn't yet been cleaned up, the muscular man straightened his shoulders which puffed his chest out as a displeased look crossed his face. "Fighting again are we maggots?" he huffed in a patronising tone. "And I was not involved?"
The majority of the team rolled their eyes at his comment, though it was Sniper that spoke up. "Frankly, that's a real blessin' mate. If you were involved it woulda been a disaster."
Soldier scowled at that, pointing a threatening finger at the Australian as his voice rose. "Don't test me, you kangaroo fucking deadbeat!"
"'Ey, screw you ya wanka!" Sniper snapped back.
Growling, Soldier lowered his stance as though he was readying himself for combat, his hands curling into fists as he continued to yell at the taller man. "You want a fight, you lanky cowardly bastard, then why don't you come over here and fight me like a real man!"
"NO!" Engineer yelled while stepping between the two, stretching his arms out as though to prevent them from charging across the room, but it didn't stop them from glaring at one another. "No! No more fightin' fer the love'a God!"
"Yeah, come on Solly." Scout said next. "I mean, I almost got pizza-faced earlier. Don't much fancy havin' that actually happen."
Soldier merely crossed his arms, huffing yet again as he glared down at everyone in the room. "You are all a bunch of cowardly maggots! You all wouldn't know a real fight if it hit you in the face!"
Sighing for what felt like the hundredth time that night, Engineer glanced around to see that the others were as tired of this as he was. In fact, he just about caught Demoman rolling his remaining eye and making a chatty motion with one hand. Somewhat glad that Soldier didn't catch that, he was about to yet again attempt to defuse the situation, but Medic beat him to it. "Ja, ve are all avare of vhat you're definition of a fight is, Herr Soldier."
Completely missing the sarcasm in the German's tone, Soldier merely puffed up his chest again in clear pride, glaring down his nose at the assembled as he gestured to himself. "That's right! This right here is the definition of real balls of American steel, and none of you sissies will ever hope to accomplish that! Don't you forget it either!"
Yet again, sighs went all round the team. They had all learned early on that there was no reasoning with this man, so the team didn't bother. Instead, they made the effort to ignore the patronising demands of the insane American and continued to clear away the last of the mess. Before long, the mess hall was cleared and the team could finally, finally, make up their foods of choice and sit down.
Despite the tension between certain members, it didn't take all that long before an easy atmosphere fell over the team. The mercs began bantering about the latest mission; about what had worked for them and what hadn't, poking fun at one another's abilities and how often each of them died. Though the latter was pointed out to be few and far between by a rather smug Medic, reminding the team of the use of his medi-gun. After that reminder, praises were sent toward the doctor for the new gadget, as it had given them a tremendous advantage over the BLUs.
Engineer smiled to himself as he listened, watching Medic accept the praise from the team like a sponge soaking up water. He could hardly blame the man, as the medi-gun was a marvel of science as well as the formula it concentrated that had kept the team alive throughout the last few missions. In fact, when the doctor had approached him with the proposition to help him create the machine during down time, he could hardly believe that the man of medicine had managed to create something so impossible. When it was complete though, he couldn't have been more prouder of the results. Frankly, he knew that he should feel salty that the work he put into creating the medi-gun wasn't recognised by the team, but he didn't mind. It was Medic's idea and life work to begin with, so he let it slide and silently congratulated himself for the contribution.
After a while, it was clear the recent fight was put out of the teams minds and when the beer was passed around, they all soon relaxed completely.
However, nothing ever lasted forever. The moment when Scout was just about to deliver a total zinger toward Soldier, that was when the door that lead to the rec. room opened up. From through the doorway came another person, one that the team had briefly forgotten about until this very moment. All eight of the men glanced over to the doorway, each going eerily silent as the final member of their dysfunctional team stood in the threshold.
Clad head to toe in a red flame-repellent suit, not a single piece of skin shown, was the team's pyrotechnist. The Pyro.
Staring back at the team through the blank lenses of his dark optical mask, Pyro merely shadowed the doorway for what felt like an eternity, vacantly staring at each of them which made the team feel incredibly uneasy. Thankfully, after what felt like a lifetime, Pyro finally broke 'eye' contact by turning his gaze to the floor as he paced toward the kitchen, the remainder of RED team following his every movement warily.
As the mysterious firestarter disappeared through the kitchen door, many of the mercs let out a breath they didn't realise they were holding. Engineer being among them. He was too polite to say so out loud, but the Pyro gave him the worse case of the heebe-jeebies.
Pyro had arrived at the RED base around six months ago, after their last pyrotechnist had become the victim of respawn sabotage. Damn that BLU Spy, but at least he got his just punishment and was now occupying the Medic's cooling station in the lab, as disturbing as that was. In wake of that, both teams had been forced into ceasefire until a new RED pyro and BLU spy was found.
Since being dropped off here at the RED Bread headquarters, the newest Pyro had never made the effort to mingle with the team. He never socialised during ceasefire and never took off his optical gas mask, or his asbestos-lined suit. Not even a single glove had been taken off.
In comparison, while their last pyrotechnist was a bit loopy- one had to be when one plays with fire- he was still a fairly decent guy. He constantly emerged out of his uniform and mingled with the team on off hours, even had strong friendships with certain members of the team, Engineer being one of them. Therefore, when he was killed, it had hurt them immensely. Even the Spy had been affected by his passing.
The man that was currently in the kitchen however? Well, he was the complete opposite.
The only thing he did was mumble to himself incomprehensibly, set a selection of things on fire and just generally isolated himself from the rest of the team. But on the off chance that he did end up in the same room as one of his team mates, all he ever did was sit quietly out of the way and stare at anyone who happened to wonder too close. The lack of facial features and those dark optics unsettled even the most brawniest of the group, since it was impossible to know what the man was thinking.
But it was when he was in combat that brought it all to a head. In only six months, the Pyro had proven to be a complete monster on the battlefield. It quickly became apparent to Engineer that the mystery man cared very little about the gunfire and explosions around him, or even for the brushes with death he received on a daily basis. He was undeterred by the number of times he had been shot, blow apart, or even set on fire by the other team's Pyro, he just continued to rush directly into the front lines setting everything in his path ablaze. It was as though he was completely detached from this world, as he took everything the BLUs threw at him without so much as a wince.
The one thing that unsettled the Engineer most of all though, was the fact that the Pyro's carnage was always accompanied by gleeful laughter. He had never stopped to take in the destruction he wrought, he never gave a second glance to the bodies he left behind, he never even bothered to wipe away the blood that coated his suit during battle. In short, the quiet and withdrawn pyrotechnist became a deranged sociopath on the field with little regard for human life.
Everything that Pyro did unsettled the team greatly, bordering on true fear of the man... if he even is a man that is.
As he finished his musing, it only took Engineer a moment to realise that nobody had spoken up again. It took even less time for him to figure out that no one wanted to say anything in hearing range of Pyro, likely in fear of what he would do if he heard them speaking ill of him. God only knows what could potentially set him off on a rampage. The team had been spared of that thankfully, but they really didn't want to push their luck.
Before long, the object of their discomfort re-emerged from the kitchen, a tupperware tub in a gloved hand as Pyro paced back through the mess hall and disappeared out of the rec. room as quickly as he appeared.
Upon the firestarter's exit, the team let out sighs but the tense atmosphere in the mess hall didn't dissipate immediately. The silence became increasingly awkward as they glanced between each other and the door, as if they were waiting for Pyro to re-enter the mess.
After deducing that Pyro would not be returning anytime soon, the team let out a collective sigh of relief. Sharing looks between each other, the silence was soon broken by Scout. "Jeez, I really thought he was gonna set somethin' on fire then." he paused briefly, but his eyes widened slightly as a realisation came to him. "He didn't, did he?"
"Nah," Demoman reassured. "The place woolda been smokin' if that were the case."
They fell quiet again, quite clearly having no clue on what to say. Needless to say, Pyro's brief presence seemed to have put an oversized wrench in the works. Before long though, Heavy, with an unnaturally quiet voice, spoke up next. "You know, I fear no man. But... the little fireman scares me."
Unnerved by Heavy's confession, the team seemed to shudder as one. If the biggest and strongest of their group feared the short man in a rubber suit... well damn. However Soldier, with a deep scowl directed at the Russian, straightened in his seat. "Scares you?" he echoed in a tone of discontent. "What kind of man allows a thing in a suit to scare him? You sir are a cowardly maggot!"
"That is hardly your place to judge, Soldier." Spy rebutted, unintentionally coming to Heavy's defence. "Was it not you that said in the last battle that the Pyro unsettled you?"
The Midwesterner whipped his hard gaze to Spy then, surprise clear in his expression despite his helmet covering most of his face. "Where did you hear that?!" he snapped at the Frenchman, until he realised what he said and attempted to back-pedal. "I mean no, that is not at all what I said! You made that up, you French snake!"
Shaking his head, Spy took a drag from his cigarette, inching it slightly away from him. "Come now, even you could admit that the Pyro is a truly fear inducing specimen." he replied, gazing intently into the burning tobacco of his cigarette. "One shudders to imagine what inhuman thoughts lie behind that mask. I dread to think what would happen should the creature decide to turn on us."
"A'ight, y'know what!?" Scout yelled out, slamming a hand down on the table which effectively caught the team's attention. "I ain't wantin' ta be talkin' 'bout that freak no more! So, shut up yeah?"
Upon the Bostonian's words, the team went silent again, returning to finishing their meals that had been interrupted by the coming and going of the pyrotechnist. It didn't seem as though another conversation would spark up any time soon, but that turned out not to be the case. It actually turned out to be Demoman to speak up again, as he placed his bottle of scrumpy on the table with a clunk. "Wot d'ya think he is den? Pyro, I mean..." he clarified after some of his team gave him looks of confusion. "I mean, the lad's been 'ere fer six months. I dunnae ken aboot you lot, but I've no clue who he is."
"It don't matter Cyclops." Scout butted in, frowning at the Scot. "He's a freak and a maniac, plain an' simple."
At that point, Engineer scowled. It's true that the Texan feels just as uneasy around Pyro as the rest of the team clearly does, but that doesn't mean he was alright with them talking about him this way. The man may not be all there, but he is a part of their team and Engineer would be damned before he would allow such disrespect to run past him. "Now you cut that out boy, that's plain disrespectful." he snapped at Scout, glaring at the young man despite his eyes being hidden by his goggles. He then drew his attention to the rest of the team. "Look here, I get Pahro makes y'all uneasy, but that don't give y'all the right to go an' talk about 'im that way."
In response, Soldier let out a huff. "That's easy for you to say. You've not seen that mutant out there, since you hide behind your toys like a coward all the time."
Engineer turned his glare to his fellow American, crossing his arms as he spoke in a very displeased tone. "Show some respect, Sol. Them 'toys' save your life more than ya care ta count. And fer your information, I've seen Pahro deal with the BLU Spah. I know what 'e's capable of."
It was at that point that Medic seemed to shudder, as the vision of Pyro laughing over the burning corpse of the BLU Medic came to the forefront of his mind. While it was true that he revelled in the deaths of anyone on the opposite team, it still struck fear within him upon witnessing Pyro's carnage. To the German's credit he did his absolute best to repress his sudden anxiety from showing on his face, adjusting his glasses as he attempted to keep his dignity while throwing in his two cents. "Ja, zere is no question of vhat he is capable of." as he spoke, Medic stroked his chin in thought as the distinctive look of scientific fascination emerged on his face. "From vhat I have seen, ze Pyro seems to have ze endurance of a vilderbeast. Nothing seems to slow him down. In fact, I had actually expected him to gain respawn sickness vhen he first spawned, yet he appeared to not be affected. Quite fascinating really."
At the mention of respawn sickness, the majority of the team pulled a variety of faces. Scout in particular seemed to have gone slightly green at the reminder. They had all gone through the pain of respawn sickness when they were first sent through the machine, as well as the few times when they died too often. Even though the machine performed the impossible and brought them all back from the dead, the system was not perfect in every sense. As a result, the sickness was their body's way of dealing with returning from death. Needless to say, Medic had grown fascinated with the effects respawn had inflicted on the human body, wanting to induce his 'experiments' to find out how it worked and how the body fought against it. Sadly to his disappointment- and the team's relief- they had soon grown used to respawn over time, which prevented him from performing an in-depth study.
With the arrival of the newest Pyro, he had been hopeful that he would get the opportunity to sate his curiosity. But when it had been proven that respawn didn't seem to affect Pyro the way Medic had hoped it would, he was yet again denied access to a potential test subject. There was no telling if the sickness did affect the mystery man, since the Pyro had never even been close to his lab for even a check up. Tragic really, as he was highly curious about what lay under the suit and mask. As were the others evidently since after another bout of quiet, they all started to theorise on what the Pyro was in their minds.
"Y'know wot I think?" Demoman piped up after a swig of his scrumpy. "I think the lad's not even human, but some great mythical beastie."
"Yeah?" Scout interjected, leaning forward as if he was about to tell the biggest secret known to man. "Well I say the freak could be some experiment gone wrong. A-a-and, y'know, he was sent 'ere by the corporates to hide 'im from the public. I mean, out 'ere in the middle 'o nowhere, nobodies ever gonna know, 'cept us. And if that happens-"
"Boy," Engineer interrupted him, giving Scout a look of disbelief. "That's just plain ridiculous-"
However, the Texan was also interrupted by Soldier as he slammed his fist on the table, causing the cutlery to jump and clatter as he snapped to his feet. "Yes!" the man shouted in agreement of the young Bostonian. "It makes perfect sense!"
Slightly put out at the man's enthusiastic agreement, the team gave the Midwesterner looks of confusion and vexation. On his part, Spy pinched the bridge of his nose as he loosely held his half-finished cigarette between two fingers, sighing as he rolled his eyes. "Oh really?" he exclaimed. "And pray tell, how exactly does it make perfect sense?"
"It just does!" Soldier yelled back, slamming his right fist into his left palm.
Knowing that the man's limited knowledge would be his downfall in this conversation, Spy mentally smirked as he continued his line of questioning. "What does?"
"What he just said!" the American responded, pointing at Scout, not noticing the increasing amusement emerging on his team's faces.
"And that was?" Spy asked again.
"I am not sure!"
The second he finished his sentence, that was when the whole team erupted into loud and boisterous laughter, the troubled atmosphere that hung around the team immediately disappeared as they let out their mirth at Soldier's stupidity.
Confused as to why they were laughing, Soldier glanced between each of his team mates, watching as most of their faces began to turn red and tears formed from how hard they were laughing. Turning his gaze to Spy, he noticed the Frenchman had the most shit-eating grin on his face, even though he attempted to keep his cool by placing his cigarette back between his lips.
Let it be said that the Soldier was not the brightest bulb in the box, but when he made the attempt to actually think about what was confusing him, it didn't usually take him too long to figure things out. Such as now, as his confusion soon turned to annoyance when he worked out that the French snake had played him for a fool.
Fuming at this realisation while the team continued to laugh, Soldier straightened to his full height with a deep scowl on his face. Internally he was embarrassed, but he would be damned if he would ever admit that to anyone in this room. Therefore, having no clue on what to say in retaliation, he resorted to the old standby that thus far had never failed him. "Maggots!" he grumbled, before turning on his heel and marching out of the mess. He was not retreating, he told himself, but making a tactical withdrawal to better prepare himself for the next 'battle' to come.
Even though his laughter made it hard for Scout to focus, he was still aware enough to notice- to his increasing amusement- that Soldier was going toward the kitchen. Letting out another snort of laughter, the Bostonian fought through his giggles to yell out to the Soldier. "Wrong way, dumbass!"
Stopping in his tracks when he realised that yes, he was indeed going the wrong direction, Soldier immediately pivoted around and marched to the door for the rec. room, yelling as he went. "I completely know that, maggot!" before long, the Midwesterner disappeared into the next room and to the hallway, his heavy booted feet fading with every step he took.
Even after the Soldier had clearly gone out of hearing range, the team still continued to laugh. Say what you like about the man, but sometimes the Soldier's inability to think before speaking can be fairly entertaining. Before long though, the laughs started to die down as the team returned to finishing their meals. Truly this bout of laughter between them had certainly made the easy atmosphere return, all of them relaxing noticeably.
However, it seemed as though the earlier speculation of the Pyro had yet to completely disappear, as was made evident by Scout speaking back up. "I still think it true y'know, 'bout the freak bein' an experiment, like a robot or somethin'."
Sighing, Engineer rolled his eyes. "Look boy, would ya just drop the subject already."
"Why?" Scout questioned as he bore his eyes at the Texan with a suspicious look. "You sayin' you don't care if the freak does turn on us? Does that mean ya know somethin' about that, huh Hard-hat?"
Engineer scowled at that, more than a little irritated about what the Bostonian was implying. He shook his head while breaking eye contact with the young man, grumbling under his breath about less than friendly things toward his fellow mercenary as he massaged the bridge of his nose.
Seeing what he believed was the labourer hiding behind his hand, Scout jolted upright as he pointed an accusing finger at Engineer. "Ha, I knew it!" he exclaimed. "So what's the deal then Engie, huh? What's the freak made of? What you tryin' to hide, huh?"
Snapping his gaze back at the younger man, Engineer stared at him with an incredulous look. "What in tarnation is givin' ya that idea? Do ya have any idea on how ridiculous ya sound right now?"
"Oh, I don't know Herr Engineer," came Medic's condescending voice and looking over, the German had a giant grin on his face as well. Leaning forward on the table, Medic pressed his fingers of each hand together as he bore his eyes into the Texan. "You do make ze habit of disappearing from ze base quite regularly. How are ve to know vhat you get up to during zat time, hmm?"
"Oh Lord above, don't you start neither." Engineer groused, beginning to feel surrounded and he frankly hated that feeling. It was like the feeling he got whenever the BLU Spy would get the drop on him, looming over him as he destroyed his precious creations before stabbing him in the back. Truthfully though, the real reason he disappears from the base during ceasefire was because of the agreement he has with both the Administrator and the Mann brothers. Since his grandfather had been contracted by them years ago to create a machine that would prolong their lives, he had followed in the man's footsteps and constantly visited them all to find a way to improve the system. But he wasn't about to let his team know that, as he had been sworn to secrecy in that regard.
Thankfully though, his saving grace came in the form of Heavy, the Russian grumbling as he caught the team's attention. "Tis very ridiculous, is little baby Scout." the giant man pointedly ignored the Bostonian's loud protests and insults toward him, closing his eyes as he waited patiently for the young man to come to a break in his rant. Once that happened, Heavy continued calmly. "No, is very clear what little Pyro is. Too soft to be machine. Is like Pyro on other team, as I once crushed little man. Was all lumpy like sack of potatoes."
A couple of his team mates stared at Heavy with confused frowns at that, clearly having no clue about what to say in retaliation. "So," Demoman began slowly after a bout of silence. "Ye thinkin' that Pyro is a suit full'o tatters?"
"No." Heavy promptly responded, a grin emerging on his face. "Is about as ridiculous as him being robot man, yes Scout?"
"Oh screw you fatty!" Scout yelled back, slumping back in his chair with a pout.
As the exchange went on, Spy had been shaking his head with every word spoken, now having been reduced to massaging his forehead. "Most definitely surrounded by imbeciles." he muttered under his breath.
From his perch across the table, Sniper removed his feet from the table top as he tipped his hat back, having been in that position and listening with increased amusement during the whole exchange. Now that the others became silent again, he decided to throw in his two cents. "Y'know wot?" he began in a speculating tone. "Maybe you lot're just over thinkin' it. Fer all you know, Pyro could be a woman."
At his exclamation, the vast majority of the team glanced at him with looks of disbelief. Before long, Scout burst out into laughter, Spy and Medic chuffed in amusement at the mere thought of the suggestion while Heavy, Demoman and Engineer kept quiet. It was fairly obvious that the latter three were the only ones that had taken the suggestion seriously.
"No no," Spy dismissed with a wave of a gloved hand. "That is purely preposterous."
"Ja, I agree." Medic conceded. "Vomen are hardly fit for ze battle ve face daily."
Sniper just huffed though, leaning back in his seat as he tipped his akubra back over his eyes with a grin. "Well, obviously ya've not been to Australia mate. The sheila's back 'ome would really give ya a run fer ya money."
"Ha, yeah right." Scout laughed. "Who ever thought of a chick bein' a merc. Look, there ain't no way Pyro's a girl, he's too freakin' nuts."
Engineer frowned yet again at Scout for that suggestion. "Now hold on there son, just cus Pahro ain't all there don't mean it automatically makes 'em a man. Besides, ain't you forgettin' about the work Miss Pauling does? She ain't just an assistant, she does as much gruesome stuff as we do."
"That may be so," Spy retorted. "But Miss Pauling is hardly a soldier. She is not entirely capable of doing what we do."
"'Ey, you don't know that!" Scout argued, quickly changing his tone and immediately coming to the defence of the Administrator's assistant. It was fairly common knowledge that Scout had the biggest crush on Miss Pauling, since whenever she turned up to the base, he tended to bumble over his words and clumsily try to flirt with the young woman. Thankfully she had enough of a head on her to ignore the Bostonian's attempts to make himself look more appealing to her, but it didn't stop the boy from trying each time. "Miss Pauling could whoop your scrawny ass any time, ya fancy fuck."
Spy merely shook his head as he reached into his jacket for his disguise kit, opening it up with a click to slip a cigarette out as he replied. "I highly doubt that. While I respect her capabilities, Miss Pauling would hardly stand much of a chance against seasoned assassins and mercenaries such as ourselves."
"Hate tae say it," Demo piped up, glancing over at Scout. "But the frog's right, lad. Miss Paulin' may be good, but she knows dat we're bettah."
"Yeah, but..." Scout attempted to protest, but was again interrupted this time by Medic.
"I vould highly suggest you drop ze subject Scout, you know you cannot vin." as he said that, the German then smoothly got to his feet before Scout could say anything else. "Vell anyvay, I must be on my vay. The doves don't feed zemselves you know." at that, Medic swiftly left the mess hall.
After the German's departure, it didn't take long before the others began to slowly dispersed from the rec. room. One by one they disappeared to go do their own thing, the last being Engineer to exit, as he had stayed behind to dispose of the cutlery that was left on the table. He may be on friendly terms with his team but really, it was quite annoying when they didn't clean up after themselves. He really should bring up kitchen duty again, so that not only he is left with it. Really, he had no idea how the others had managed to weasel their way out of it again.
Being too tired to clean the dishes at the moment, Engineer made a metal note to get them done come morning as he exited the rec. room. On his way back to his workshop however, his thoughts streamed back to Pyro.
Remembering the less than friendly remarks made toward the firestarter by his team mates, the Texan couldn't help but frown. Granted, like the team, he too was a little wary of the man since the pyrotechnist's actions didn't exactly encourage people to be friendly with him, but that didn't give the rest of them any excuse to insult him.
Thinking back on it, the Texan labourer had noticed that when Pyro entered, he seemed to freeze on the spot and when he broke eye contact, his shoulders seemed to rise, as though he was embarrassed or something. It was subtle, as through that thick suit it was difficult to pick anything out, but Engineer took pride in noticing small details like that. Maybe that meant that Pyro had wanted to speak with them, but something stopped him from doing so. If that was the case, and Pyro was attempting to reach out to them but was too shy to, maybe he needed someone to come to him instead.
He hummed in thought at this as he paused in the hallway. What exactly gave Pyro the inclination to be shy? As far as he could recall, when the firestarter had first arrived Engineer made it his mission to ensure that his welcome was a warm one, since it was he and Heavy that had first met him when he stepped off the train all those months ago. Was it because he felt intimidated? Because if that was the case, maybe Engineer could see if he could change whatever impressions Pyro had of them. He had to be careful though, since the pyrotechnist is a bit of a wildcard and just about anything could potentially set him off. It would be a problem, but if there was one thing Engineer could do, it was solve problems. Granted, this isn't a practical problem, but it didn't take a genius with eleven PhD's to simply talk to someone.
With that in mind- and with the hope that his visit wouldn't end with him being killed, since the main headquarters didn't have respawn- he continued down the corridor toward the sleeping quarters.
oOoOoOoOoOoOoO
Sitting cross legged on his bed within his darkened room, Pyro sighed as he dropped the fork in the now empty tub. The food that he just had was a little bland, as it had been sitting in the fridge since the last mission, but that wasn't what had him so down. He had food worse than this anyway.
No, what plagued his mind was the encounter he had with the rest of the team.
He knew that the chances of the mess hall being empty when he arrived would be very slim, therefore he had made it his mission to see if he could attempt some sort of communication with the team. A murmur of greeting, a friendly wave, hell even giving them a nod would have done fine. Sadly though, as soon as he entered, he felt his chest tighten the moment eight pair of eyes landed on him and he froze up. His breath caught in his throat, cold sweat formed and he panicked. What didn't help was the judging and fearful looks the others gave him, which completely dashed his hope of sparking a conversation with them.
It wasn't fair, all he wanted to do was make friends with the team. To open up to them without worry and show them who he really is, since it was clear that they were scared of him. Granted, he had never been very good at communicating with people, or even managing eye contact, but that wasn't the problem. It was his own paranoia that continued to hold him back. Constant whispers in the back of his mind that kept warning him away, telling him over and over again that these men will never accept him, that they will do nothing but hurt him like many others had done in the past.
Contrary to what people tend to think, he's not stupid. He knows what the team say about him when they thought he was out of ear shot, and it made him very sad when his own subconscious kept him from showing them differently. At the beginning of this contract he was understandably wary, he didn't know any of them. At this point though he knew that there was no reason for the team to turn on him, but his paranoia told him otherwise. Past experience taught him that if he ever got too close to people, then he would be hurt in more ways than one. Even the doctors, who constantly claimed that they were trying to help him, hurt and patronised him.
What did he need help with anyway? He was fine.
Pyro slumped forward then, letting out a loud dejected sigh, but that was when he noticed a flicker of movement beside him. Looking down, he let loose a sad smile when an inflated pink unicorn looked up at him from the bed at his side. The unicorn rubbed his head on his leg, telling him in a reassuring tone that it was alright, he wasn't alone.
That made him a little happier. Yes, he isn't alone. Mayor Balloonicorn is his very best friend and has always been there for him. Comforted him when he was sad, made him laugh and even played with him when others wouldn't. Not only that, but Miss Purple- he knew that wasn't her real name, but that what he affectionately calls her- had always been kind to him since she saved him from the pillow room. He still didn't trust her, sadly, but he did like her. Pyro's sad smile widened a little as he patted the unicorn's head, thankful for the company.
But then, it was at that point when Pyro heard knocking. It wasn't loud but the suddenness of it caused the firestarter to jump, as it completely startled him. It took a second for him to register what the sound had meant and when he did, he let out a mumble of confusion. Was that his door? Did someone just knock on his door? But nobody ever came to his door, no one ever came to seek his company. So therefore it couldn't have been his door, it was just his mind playing tricks on him, or maybe the man with the blue mask was here. That one always liked sneaking up behind him and his team mates.
In the same second though Pyro figured if the blue masked man had come to the base, then he wouldn't go around deliberately knocking on the walls or whatever, especially around the sleeping quarters of nine trigger-happy men. That would be a very stupid thing to do. Therefore Pyro relaxed and shook his head, dismissing the noise as nothing.
But then it happened again, once again making him jump. This time though, the knocking was accompanied by a voice. "Pahro? You in there son?"
Pyro blinked at that. Was... was that the Engineer? Engineer was outside, right now, and knocking at his door? What was he doing at his door? Why would he do that, nobody ever came to his door and willingly sought him out. Pyro exchanged glances with Balloonicorn, seeing that the pink unicorn was just as confused as he was.
Keeping his voice to a whisper, the firestarter asked his friend what he should do. Balloonicorn suggested that maybe he should go open the door a little, but to be careful. For all he knew, the Texan was mad at him for something. He didn't sound mad, but experience told him that some people can hide what they were feeling.
Engineer's questioning voice then spoke out once again. "Pahro?"
Even though he had reservations about this situation, Pyro nodded his head at Balloonicorn. He wasn't sure if he could break through his anxiety and say anything to the Texan, but damn it he wanted to try. He was tired of living in isolation of everyone else, of being treated like an object or a monster. Therefore with those thoughts in mind, Pyro slid off the bed and jumped to his feet, heading straight for the door.
However, just as his gloved hand gripped the handle, that was when Pyro realised that he didn't have his mask on. In an instant, all of the bravado he had mustered up suddenly fled as panic filled him. He cannot let Engineer see him without his mask on.
He almost tripped over his own two feet as he dashed back toward the bed, creating quite a bit of noise as he stumbled. Righting himself, he made it to the bed and snatched up his rubber mask, tugging it on just as Engineer spoke out again, his tone full of concern. "Pahro? Everythin' alright?" it was obvious he heard his clumsiness through the door. Feeling embarrassed, the firestarter fixed his mask properly in place, briefly seeing Balloonicorn's wince of sympathy toward him.
Now safely behind the gas mask, Pyro returned to the door. When he gripped the handle again though, another wave of anxiety ran through him. He squeezed his eyes closed and took in a shuddering breath through the mask filter, forcing the feeling down as he turned the doorknob.
Wary about the fact the door opened into his room, since if Engineer was angry he could easily force it open just from pushing it, Pyro tentatively pulled the portal the smallest amount so he could see through. From through the crack, Engineer's distinct yellow hard-hat met his eyes. The Texan himself glanced directly at him, his eyes hidden behind his goggles but still gave the firestarter a friendly smile.
Frankly, when Pyro had opened the door, he had planned on greeting Engineer with a hello or something of the sort. However, the moment the man's eyes landed on him, he felt that dreadfully familiar feeling of panic. His subconscious screamed at him to bolt; to slam the door closed, run back to his bed and throw the covers over himself to hide. He fought that feeling down though, as that was the last thing he wanted to do to Engineer. The Texan labourer had been nothing but friendly toward him since he first arrived, though he still tended to give him a wide berth like the rest of the team, but he could hardly blame the man. Even though his mask was his sanctuary, he often didn't like what he saw whenever he looked at himself in it in the mirror.
Oblivious of the firestarter's inner turmoil, Engineer fought against fidgeting on the spot. When he arrived at the door, he felt a surge of emotions travelling through his chest. He was very anxious, yet excited at the same time. It was hard to explain but either way, when he heard Pyro stumbling about through the door that feeling just increased. Once the door opened, it merely made it even worse.
Even though there was a door mostly hiding the suit-clad mercenary, the sight of those large black optics made his heart pound. With that mask on, it was impossible to know what the man was thinking, or what his expression was. For all he knew, the firestarter could be glaring at him, or not even looking at him altogether. He couldn't tell, but he forced those thoughts to the back of his mind, giving the man a smile.
"Hey there." he began tentatively, thinking it would be best to start slow with the mystery man. By God, it was so much easier to speak to the man when the door was fully closed. "How er... how ya doin' son?"
Even though it was hard for him to tell- since even though there was his optics and the Texan's goggles between them, he still couldn't meet Engineer's eyes- Pyro still figured the man was nervous. It was a little disheartening, but he could hardly be blamed since his mask wasn't the most friendly of sights. Even still, he didn't reply back since his throat became constricted around his airways, giving him the feeling of not being able to breathe. He rose his shoulders and sank his head down, his grip on the door handle tightening as he repressed the urge to slam it shut. In his silence, Engineer must think he was being very rude, or just staring at him blankly. Therefore once he got his bearings, he tilted his head minutely as though to apologise for his lack of response, but there wasn't any way the man could have picked up on that.
Seeing the head tilt made Engineer's anxiety increase as for all he knew, Pyro could be thinking a number of different things. Best case scenario, he was merely curious. Worse case scenario, he was sizing him up for the best way to set him aflame in the most efficient way. Pushing those thoughts aside, the Texan cleared his throat, feeling as if he had the obligation to explain the reason for being at the pyrotechnist's door. "Well..." he began. "Sorry for comin' here unannounced Pahro but... well you've just been on your lonesome for a while now. Just figured you'd like a little company sometime... if y'all don't mind, that is."
Pyro blinked at that. Engineer actually wanted to spend time with him? Honestly, Pyro had no idea on what to think of that, as no one had ever wanted to spend time with him just because they wanted to, even before he came to this base. It inflamed Pyro's paranoia all over again, since the only people who had actually sought out his company in the past did so because they either wanted something from him, or they wanted to hurt him.
Seeing that Pyro had seemed to have frozen and was staring at him in what he could only assume was confusion, Engineer finally gave in to the urge to wring his hands together. The increasing silence had become quite cloying and with both the door blocking his view and the blank mask, it was impossible to even guess the firestarter's reaction. Each piece of material that covered the man hid everything and honestly, that actually frightened him. Usually, he could guess many things about people, even without them clarifying it, but there was a deep and strange meaning buried within that asbestos suit. Far too deep for even him to understand.
Resisting the urge to rub the base of his neck nervously, Engineer cleared his throat yet again. "You don't have ta," he clarified. "I just figured bein' alone is hard on ya. But if ya don't want me around right now that's fine, you're more than welcome ta seek me out or come ta my workshop if ya lookin' for company."
Yet again, Pyro couldn't help but stare in the man's general direction in surprise, though it wasn't seen. Any other person who made an offer like that would have been someone who meant ill toward him, someone who was asking too much and demonstrated that they were not to be trusted. The firestater's own history contained too many people whose interest in him was less than comforting. Therefore, even though Engineer had never given him a reason to doubt his words, that history kept whispering in his ear, telling him to not trust the Texan.
After receiving another round of silence from the masked man, Engineer sighed. Frankly he shouldn't have expected Pyro to come out with any sort of remark to his offer, due to the fact that the man made it his mission to avoid social confrontations. But he was a patient man, and he knew that the worst thing he could do was to push the pyrotechnist lest he ends up on the business end of a flamethrower. With that in mind, he spoke to Pyro again. "Ya don't have ta if'n you don't wanna a'course, but the offer's still there if ya do." giving the firestarter one last friendly smile, he took a step back from the door. "I'd best be off now 'fore it gets too late. Y'all have a good evenin', Pahro."
With that, Engineer nodded and headed down the corridor. As he went, Pyro watched him, leaning slightly out of his door to keep the man in his sights. After hearing the Texan's parting words, his mind became a whirlwind of thoughts. Pyro nibbled his bottom lip idly, his internal voices debating with each other consistently as he stared at the labourer's retreating back. However, he came to the conclusion that the Texan had made the effort to approach him and be friendly, so he at least deserves to hear some form of appreciation from him. With that thought fuelling him, he pushed the voices to the back of his mind and gathered as much confidence as he could muster, forcing himself to speak through his tight throat.
"Fmnk ooou."
Upon hearing the muffled words, Engineer whipped around in shock, only to find the pyrotechnist's door slamming shut. Surely he wasn't just hearing things; he did just hear Pyro speak real words. Of course they weren't all that intelligible due to the mask filter being in the way, but the gist of the words were easy to figure out. Engineer couldn't help but grin widely at this, feeling as though he just won a million bucks. After all, the team constantly made the observation that Pyro never spoke real words within their vicinity, so of course he couldn't be more happier with the knowledge that he was the first. Though with Pyro slamming the door like that, it most likely meant that he had reached the limit of his social interaction, the Texan didn't mind though. He was more than willing to wait for Pyro to make up his own mind.
Therefore, a grin still on his face, Engineer carried on down the corridor with the intent of continuing to unload the supplies from his truck.
Meanwhile, the moment Pyro had slammed the door, he pivoted around and fell against it. Once his back hit the solid surface, his shaking knees gave up on him and he sank to the floor, his heart racing as he attempted to calm himself down. From across the room, Balloonicorn gave him a curious look, quietly asking him if he was alright. Pyro nodded in response, not trusting himself to speak at the moment as he wrapped his arms around his knees. Balloonicorn- having been friends with him practically his whole life- knew that with his thoughts as much as a jumble as they were, the last thing he needed was too much noise surrounding him to make him feel crushed under any audible assault. He needed time to himself to sort through it all on his own with nothing to distract him. So therefore, the pink unicorn left him be, intending to see how his citizens were doing.
With Balloonicorn disappearing to give him space- God bless him- Pyro's mind continued to race. He could hardly believe that he just did that. He had never spoken properly to anyone in the team at all, the most he ever lets out was mumbles and random noises, all of which was impossible to make out through the mask. As a result, he felt extremely overwhelmed with the whole flurry of emotions running through his entire being.
Even still, as he stared into seemingly nothing, Pyro was mixed between the urge to laugh or cry. On the one hand, he was ecstatic that someone on this team had finally reached out to him. That someone had made the attempt to communicate with him, or even try to include him into their environment. Granted, it was only a tiny step toward his ultimate goal of interacting with the whole team, but it was a start in the right direction.
However, his anxiety had also taken over in force. Now that there was someone looking to speak with him, whose to say that it wouldn't end up a disaster. What if Engineer was only reaching out to him this way to get him to let his guard down, to feed him lies and false words of comfort to make him pliant to his will, and shatter him completely when he was done with him. This could be the precursor to something worse, to a sick and twisted joke and he would get delivered the punch line that would break him.
Needless to say, both with the encounter with Engineer and his own whirling thoughts, Pyro had become greatly stressed. He bit down on his own lip hard until he tasted copper, his breaths becoming rapid with every second as cold sweat began to emerge, his heart beating louder which added to his stress. Suddenly the comforting confines of his mask had become too loud, too stifling. He needed air badly.
Snapping to the neck of his mask, he ripped the rubber material off his head and took a deep shuddering breath, snapping his hands immediately over his ears to try and block out the pounding of his heart and the insistent voices. It wasn't working, there was still too much noise, despite the fact he tried to drown it out with his own humming. They won't shut up. Please shut up!
God damn it, he really didn't need this. He had to calm down and fast before he begins hyperventilating.
Desperate, he stuffed his hand into his belt pouch, immediately grabbing one of the small rectangular shapes inside and pulled it out. It was a silver zippo lighter, of which was a little dented with the paint being rubbed off from constant use. He flicked it open and ground the flint wheel, watching as it sparked in tiny stars before a healthy flame flickered to life. Seeing the small multicoloured element flash before him- which was much brighter than normal since the room was so dark- he felt his heart rate calm a little bit and the voices quieten down. He had always enjoyed watching the flames dance to every little movement and the colours blend together, as if it was creating an impromptu performance for him alone and it was a show that delighted him each time.
However now he found that, while the flame captivated him effortlessly, it didn't help with the stress still flowing through his system. He needed more. Eyes flicking about, he desperately searched his room for something to burn. The bed sheets were tempting but they were out of the question, as he needed them to have a comfortable nights sleep, as it tended to get cold around here at night which didn't really make sense to him. How was it possible for a place to be so hot during the day, but really cold at night?
He shook his head at that, finding that pondering on that thought didn't help his current predicament. Thankfully though, his eyes zeroed in on the stack of papers on his desk, right next to a box of crayons. He tended to use them for his drawings whenever he got bored and he would have to go on the hunt for some more if he burned them, but at the moment that was a price he was willing to pay.
With that in mind Pyro clambered off the floor onto shaky legs, stumbling over to his desk and grabbed the stack of papers. Carting them and his now flameless lighter over to an empty corner, he collapsed back down and huddled himself against the wall, dropping the papers in front of him. Immediately he started to tear the papers into strips, the ripping sounds a tiny comfort as he collected the shreddings into a neat pile. With that done, he lifted the final piece of paper and flicked his lighter back on. He watched with rapt attention as the colourful flames instantly leapt to the paper, spreading around it and making the slowly blackening edges curl. Pyro smiled as the flames started to grow, already beginning to feel better as he gently lowered the burning paper to the pile.
Within seconds, the whole pile was soon covered with flame, the element growing until it began to dance with abandon, crackling and popping its wonderful song. A shudder went through Pyro's body as the fire grew, his muscles almost instantly relaxing and the stress burning away like the papers before him. In the back of his mind he was somewhat thankful that the floor and walls were made of concrete and not wood, otherwise the base would end up burning down and the rest of the team would be very unhappy about that. Shoving those thoughts to the depths of his conscience, the pyrotechnist continued to watch the flames.
A smile emerged on his face as the heat reached him. As he tended to become easily cold, the heat was very comforting to him and made him feel safe, made him feel like he was at home. It was one of the reasons why fire was his greatest love. Pyro lifted his knees and wrapped his arms around them again, but this time it was very loose and relaxed as he rested his chin on his forearms. The crackling flame had reached its peak now, the red, yellow and orange merging seamlessly with the green, blue and purple, each dancing in their own way like a whole team of ballerinas on a stage.
He watched the flames until it died, leaving behind only the smallest glimmer of embers that still clung stubbornly to the edges of the blackened ashes of his drawing paper, smoke drifting lazily from the remains. He sighed at that, understanding that the show was now over but that was okay. It may not have lasted as long as he wanted it to but it was wonderful none the less, just like the ending to a fantastic movie. At least he could ponder on what a great show it was while the metaphorical credits rolled.
Now that he was feeling much better, Pyro could think clearly. Granted, he was still a little torn about accepting Engineer's offer, but at least he wasn't stressing over it now. He really hated it when his sub-conscious causes him to have panic-attacks. In fact, he hated having panic-attacks in general, since he couldn't think at all when they were happening and worst case scenario, he blacked out completely. He really didn't want that to happen.
Pyro reached over to the ashes and flattened his fire-proof glove over them, snuffing out the remains of the flames. He brushed the soot into a neat little pile to clear up later as he uncurled from his loose ball, slowly standing up.
It was at that point that he noticed Mayor Balloonicorn had come back, but the pink inflated unicorn was curled up at the foot of his bed, clearly fast asleep. Pyro blinked at this, heading over to his covered window and pulled back a corner of the tarp he nailed there. Seeing that it was dark out with only the light of the moon to help him see the deserts horizon, the firestarter bit his lip bashfully. Maybe he spent longer watching the fire than he thought.
In which case, it was probably best to try and get some sleep. After all, Soldier tended to wake early and shout at them all to get up as well, even though they were on ceasefire. He sighed as he began to get out of his suit, feeling a little apprehensive of falling asleep like he did on most nights. He tended to have bad dreams sometimes, ones that usually got so bad that he needed to burn something to calm down when he woke up. Mentally crossing his fingers that wouldn't happen tonight, Pyro finished getting ready for bed and clambered onto the cot- being sure not to jostle Balloonicorn as he did so- pulling the blankets around him like a burrito to trap the warmth. Yes, he could have just left his suit on to go to sleep in, as it practically acted like a thermos and trapped the warmth within, but he tended to wriggle in his sleep quite a lot and whatever he wore got twisted by his movements. He found out the hard way just how uncomfortable that was the last time he slept in his suit.
As predicted though, he didn't fall asleep straight away. He always had trouble falling asleep, even when he was a kid, but he wasn't sure why. He wasn't an insomniac, at least that's what the doctors said, he just had trouble keeping his mind, or his surroundings, quiet. It doesn't bother him all that much the majority of the time, but sometimes he was too sensitive to noise and it was near impossible to distract himself from it. The doctors once told him to ignore sounds, but he couldn't. It was like he was constantly attuned to even the quietest of sounds. He guessed it was part of the reason why he is so withdrawn. He was constantly aware of the small things that others were apparently ignorant to, and it perplexed him how people could ignore such things so easily while he found it too difficult to even try.
Pyro tried his hardest to get himself to fall asleep, tossing and turning while fighting to keep the blankets around his form and keeping them as tight over his ears as he could. He curled up as much as he could, a scowl of concentration etched on his face as he tried to ignore the howl of the wind. Why is the wind so loud?
Eventually though, his thoughts began to quieten down as he slowly drifted off. His body relaxing, it didn't take long before he was brought to unconsciousness.
oOoOoOoOoOoOoO
Hey all, I really hope you like the first instalment of this story. I hope you can forgive me for the slow start and the lack of description for Pyro, but all that will be answered throughout the story. As for my headcannon, I've perused through multiple fanfictions about Pyro and I really like the idea of him being a mentally troubled man with the mindset of a child, yet with a vast intelligence.
Either way, I hope I did each of the classes justice, as I'm not really all that accomplished on following the cannon personalities of ready made characters. Up until this point I've made up my own characters for my other stories and, well, I tend to have a bit more freedom in that regard. So if something is wrong, then I apologise in advance.
Oh, and call me out on any French or German etc. phrases I happen to get wrong as well. As my first and only language is English my only reference is Google Translate, so please forgive my ignorance and don't be shy to let me know if I should correct any French or German words.
Edit: I've revisited this chapter slightly by adding some parts that will be made relevant as the story progresses, as well as some extra contents and conversations between the mercs that I though was needed.
Edit 2: I've been doing some more research on the mental conditions my Pyro has recently, and I found that my first description of what goes through his head doesn't fit with what he has, so I redid it. In light of my revisit, see if you guys can guess what else my Pyro has other than schizophrenia.
Thanks a bunch guys and enjoy the story.
