Merry Christmas everyone!
Things are going to start complicating from this chapter onwards... in Pyrovision. Pronoun game's still on.
(Every character and 2Fort belongs to Valve.)
Out of the BLU
Even the persistent rickety hum of wheels against a rusty track pale in comparison to the voices of REDs debating to form an effective battle plan.
Though Soldier's intelligence could be argued as slightly below average, the American did have enough experience with battle strategies to lead the discussion. Or argument. "Scout, you and Spy will both be responsible for capturing the Intel. I expect you two to be working together."
"Oi! Why does it ha' tah be him? He'll just use me as a frickin' decoy again."
"GET USED TO IT, PRIVATE! Sun Tzu said that decoys are one of the most useful tactics EVER! Engin-"
"Buildin' and defendin' sentry and teleporters in the bases."
On cue, the others started chattering out their personal plans instead, Scout squeaking and complaining indignantly at each syllable.
"Oi'm snoipin' from the battlements."
"Camper."
"Oi don't camp! Oi save your bloody loives!"
"I'm takin' the bloody sewers. Scout, shut the hell up!"
"Ah get tah choose what ah wanna do, alright?! Come on, Soldier!"
"JUST SHUT THAT MOUTH, MAGGOT!"
"Heavy is going with doktor."
"Ve vill be at the frontlines vith you und Herr Pyro, ja?"
"Typical response from Team Bromance."
"Does leetle man want punch to face?"
"I'm sure dat Pyro's a lady, Medic."
The stubby, eagle-winged man slumped, watermelon helmet nodding over his nose. "Pyro! Escort Engineer!"
He looked up from his little rainbow creator, dubbed 'lighter' by everyone (though the truth was that the slim little mechanic with its tiny brass gears looked nothing like one).
The whole team minus their shady Spy was grouped unevenly around Soldier and a bird's-eye-view map of 2Fort on a round table; Engie, Medic and Scout closer in, Demoman and Heavy on the other side of the table, Sniper a sizable distance away from everyone.
Soldier was facing him with one meaty finger planted directly on the RED base.
"Then I get to come back and play?"
He noted a slightly awkward silence following his comment, broken only by Engie's quiet "Pyro says yes". This, to him, was natural, and before long he realised that his own focus was back on striking up bits of multi-coloured light.
There was a popping noise as Spy materialised nearby in a flurry of gleaming bubbles, bat wings snapping. "Gentlemen, I believe zat zis plan has serious flaws. If ze BLUs are listening in, et would not take long to form a counterplan."
He tucked away the 'lighter'. Something was wrong. Spy always materialised directly behind a teammate.
"Ha! Those maggots are in their un-American, poor-quality train far behind us!" Soldier giggled.
"Still, I zink we should spread out our offenses and defences to gain more ground."
Medic raised a googly eye. "Und if someone is injured, vould I have to run all the way over to them?"
"No offense Doc, but there's also something called a health pack." It was typical of buck-toothed Scout to only keep quiet for so long.
Spy snickered. "Very ironic comment coming from an offensive class."
"Go tah h-"
"Give him a break, ya ratty spook." And it was typical of Sniper to stay reserved until there was an excuse to tell Spy off.
"Go back to sulking, bushman."
The lack of a true insulting adjective was all he needed. Just as the interior of the RED train started to become yet another verbal battle, he quickly stepped forward and clicked the 'lighter' by Spy's little pointed ear.
The results were immediate.
Spy leapt backwards with a high laugh, a fancy dress mask unnoticeable a while ago slipping to the ground. The sharply neat clothes shimmered, no longer a cheerful, tomato red.
There was a (more or less) collective gasp from every other RED before genuine yowling broke out.
"That Spah's not our Spah!"
"Dat Spy's a traitor!"
"SPYYY!"
Soldier leapt forward, snagging BLU Spy by the cuff, promptly dusting off the spreading patch of rainbow colours on those glum, cerulean clothes. "MAGGOT! WHERE'S OUR SPY?!"
BLU Spy gave a sweet smile that he somehow knew was actually a sneer. "Still at the station, I believe."
Scout gave a high gasp.
Before Engie could start another ramble about respawn being down while travelling, the youngster had picked up a large stick of hard candy from under a nearby seat and stuffed it into BLU Spy's mouth with a satisfying BONK, sending the laughing intruder slumping to the ground.
"Thanks, mate," Sniper whispered, throwing a doubtful look at the being-bound infiltrator before facing him. "For breaking his cover. I think that we could manage without our Spook though."
He attempted a smile under his mask, which was hard and painful enough without the bit of plastic in his mouth. "Anytime, amigo. I hope that you are right."
Lucky for him, Sniper and the other REDs, Spy was not left back at the train station. Demoman had found the sleek figure in the bathroom, coincidently knocked unconscious in a similar way.
As Medic worked healing magic on their sullen Frenchman, he volunteered to guard the intruder in another room while the rest of the team reset their battle plan.
They really should have been quieter though, because every word was as audible as the sound of dripping water in a silent room.
"…BLU Spy may be right," Engie's helium voice stated. "Y'all should spread out a bit more."
"Sure, Hard Hat?" Scout's voice arrogantly challenged, followed by an eccentric scribbling noise.
"Leetle man is right. We are weaker separated…"
While he would've liked to continue listening, the sudden steel-like coldness on his back caused him to refocus on his drab pink surroundings.
Something has punctured his suit.
He cursed inwardly; it was common knowledge that Spies had the skill to wriggle out of ropes soundlessly yet without breaking a sweat.
"Lizzen, you mumbling freak. One scream or sudden movement out of you, and- well, respawn ez down while travelling, as your toymaker would say. Just allow me to sit and overhear."
Despite the bold words, he could feel the enemy's talons trembling. Spies were also more uneasy around him than the others, which was comforting to think about.
And what would the others reveal through dialogue anyway?
"…Yeah, alright then. I think it's fair we'll all rotate positions anyway. Even tho' you chucklenuts ain't faster than me."
His hopes for his team's subtlety sank. No, he could not let BLU Spy listen and report this information. RED would be at a disadvantage and unhappiness will take over. He needed to give them time.
He quickly reached back and grabbed the claw that was clutching the deadly yet cute ice butterfly, giving it a light tickle.
BLU Spy gave a loud giggle and twisted out of his grip, still clutching at the fluttering insect. "I warned you."
In a flurry of bubbles, the masked man vanished.
He quickly stepped back and leaned against the door, which made a pouting sound in reply. He did not know how he knew, but the deadliest strikes from a Spy were always, always backstabs.
If only the boss allowed RED to stay with their instruments and toys aboard…
Digging around in his blurred memory, he realised that BLU must have been more placid, unlike some of his friends whom must have managed to start a friendly fire battle which somehow involved Sascha the pea-shooting pod, Scout being hyperactive and Soldier's bacon, causing RED to end up late to a Control Point battle with –he believed- a demented train and an exhausted Medic.
He almost smacked himself in the face to remind himself that right now there were more important things to worry about than not being able to recall the full details of a memory.
And just then, the BLU was back again, quick little bubble gun in his claws.
Unfortunately, those toys were always near silent…
There was a fizz as the wood to his left was left with a foaming hole.
He did not have anything on him, really, but his lighter…
The second jet of bubbles just managed to miss his shifting foot.
Spy would have to shoot six times before going back to using the butterfly…
Another whizz, this time striking the edge of his suit.
That was it. Spy wasn't bad at shooting; the Frenchman was just toying with him, building up to the 'coup de grâce'…
He ducked as a talon twitched over trigger, the next shot missing by a hair (not that he had any exposed), then pounced forwards and tackled Spy to the ground in a bear hug.
The bubble gun slid away from the opponent's floundering claw.
As Spy laughed and writhed under his firm grip like a fish out of water, he heard the conversation outside starting to be filled with hearty laughs and too-common boastings. It was drawing to an end.
He relaxed, inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. The information was safe.
Upon afterward reflecting, that was his fatal mistake.
From the corner of his eye, he saw BLU Spy's dark claw reach out and give an eccentric little twitch. A jiffy later, he felt fresh air pressing to the back of his neck. He barely heard himself breathe a sound of surprise before Spy once again stumbled out of his grasp, running to pick up the nearby gun.
Heart beating fast, he scrambled up, taking a deep wheeze of a breath. He had to cause Spy to form a truce. He had to!
Enraptured by thoughts, it was until he started to make a move before he finally became aware of something… different about the sickening sweetness in the air.
The pink aura of the room flickered.
A rush of dizziness struck him back down to the ground alongside realisation with the force of a falling shot put. He put a finger to his temple, trying to deny the truth, to shake the daze off. No, he must run to that Spy before…
Dimly, he felt the impact of two projectiles vibrate against his gas mask, the sound of something cracking, a sharp, blinding pain in his eyes.
Somebody was screaming, a long, muffled scream.
Footsteps hammered outside, a sharp crash indicating the door was open.
That was when he realised that he was the one screaming.
Something dealt a blow to the back of his head.
"Pyro?"
"'e's waking… Medic, are yer sure dis works?"
"Of course, Herr Demoman… I'm a trained doctor after all… und Herr Engineer has plenty of plastic lenses to spare…"
"'Trained'? Medic?"
"C'mon, Doc, weapons have unloaded! Just use your Medigun!"
The familiar, strengthening bolt of warmth coursed through his chest into the rest of his body; he felt the searing pain in his eyes drain, but that did not replace the bitter taste in the clogged chamber of his mouth, the alarming smell of gunpowder.
He did not dare to wake- if he did, he was afraid of the sight he was going to face. Common sense told him that if he disobeyed the rules about the gas mask, Administrator probably won't be very happy with him.
But his friends were counting on him.
He slowly lifted an eyelid, and then another. The first thing he saw was a tube of sherbet pointed close-up, straight towards him, small flecks of red sugar constantly darting in the same direction; the whole sight tinted through a pink haze.
Medic's healing tube.
"Um… what happened? Did BLU Spy escape?"
A golden hand pushed Medic's signature equipment away, beckoning for his own dark-gloved hand to pull up.
He gladly accepted Engie's offer, staggered onto his feet. There were a few cheers, accompanied by Medic's confident, self-assured grin.
Everything was going to be fine.
He started to flex his neck, then froze as his view rippled and wavered.
For a moment, the scenery wasn't the usual jolly candyland he knew, but a muted, drab expanse of barren land with a scar of a railway cutting straight through the open fields.
He blinked a few times, clearing his head. No, that was him seeing things. It must have been.
Sniper edged towards him, fly-like orange eyes wide and unblinking as per usual. "We released that Spoi once we left the train, though not without a few bruises fer what he done –Administrator will know about it. No doubt he's gonna tell all those other wankas about what he heard."
Scout had rushed up to his other side while Sniper was talking, and promptly continued at the speed of a train as the Australian paused to take a breath. "Hard Hat came up with the idea tha' we wrote down our opinions instead of sayin' them- when half of the others didn't even know how to read English! Boy, mah hands still hurt," the Bostonian winced before adding "an' ta say what we were not goin' to do. Anyway, 'e also fixed yo' goggl-"
Scout was cut off with squeaks of protest as Soldier pushed him away. "We're going to 2Fort. Pyro, your plan will still be to escort Engineer. Guard him for a bit. Then," the stumpy man grinned, showing all pointed teeth. "Do what you do best."
Ah, battle scenes. I don't think I'm the best at dealing with them, but I suppose I'll have to write a lot more of them later on.