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TF2 RP
Aug 3, 2010 1:18:05 GMT -5
Post by Tempest Reign on Aug 3, 2010 1:18:05 GMT -5
It was almost midnight when the train picked him up at the station. That seemed about right; with how secretive this company was trying to pretend it was, he honestly wouldn't have expected anything less. The interior of the train had looked like it was running thin on luxuries; it looked more like a prison car, complete with fully blacked windows. More false secrecy. He really shouldn't have expected anything less. He hadn't thought that BLU was going to pamper their employees.
In fact, looking back, he never thought he was going to end up on a battlefield either.
He’d never been athletic. Or outgoing. Or charming. Nothing like all of the other boys in his secondary school, the ones that had grinned in sick triumph and they said they were going to tuck their life away in the military. No, he had been the scrawny, silent bookworm that had been more interested in sorting through coded Japanese war orders than in the actual war itself. To him, the combat of war, the so called ‘glory’ of it, was just a game made up of waiting; waiting for the other side to crack under the moral strain of throwing away billions of testosterone-gorged men.
Or in his current case, a couple dozen men a billion times.
That his meek little hobby-job actually qualified him for a war should have been an immediate red flag but he’d chocked it up to good luck; in spy business, you usually took what jobs you could scrounge up. Doubly so when you weren’t all that great of a spy to begin with. So now he was stranded on the world’s most ramshackle little train with a cast of equally ramshackle little people. Sprawled across three rows of seats on his left was a tall, dark woman with a Scottish lilt to her voice. (She had been singing and swaggering around the car before passing out over the chairs in a puddle of her own drool.) A few more rows back, scrawny little brunette in a baseball cap was chatting the ear off of the unfortunate man to his right, a stout but kind-faced Southerner, who just nodded and smiled at the appropriate times. There had been one other man too, but he'd disappeared into one of the adjoining cars and hadn't returned.
And then there was him. Lane. Alone, as he was ought to be. Five people stranded on a train headed into the middle of Nowhere, and he was the only one that seemed to think this entire set-up was some kind of sick murder’s game. An elaborate one at that; he didn’t know many people that would go through all of the trouble of training such an elite group only to slaughter them all on arrival. He turned his head to gaze out the window and didn't remember the window black until he was staring at it for a solid minute. The man reeled back slightly at the realization and tried to shake himself awake. Another long sigh left him. Two more hours. The voice overhead had urged them to wait just two more hours...
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"I hope they don't expect us to wait around here all night." Sebastian growled, whisking the balaclava off of his face and running a gloved hand through his hair in an outright flaunt against the rules set up by the base's head. It wasn't like anyone was willing to stop him; when you had a shot like he did, you didn't really have to worry about trivial things like regulations. No one was going to discharge you for a uniform infraction.
"Antoine said the train might be a bit late." Colette replied as she moved up next to her counterpart, dragging a lone plastic chair behind her. "They always are." The blond Spy shrugged and slid into place on the seat before she had a chance to set it down, snagging the woman by the hips and pulling her onto his lap.
"Maybe we could make this long wait more interesting, hm?" The man asked with a catty grin. Colette turned to stare at the man beneath her, expression mixing exasperation and amusement. Deft thief's fingers suddenly swept up, stole the man's cigarette from his lips and brought them up to her's.
"Non. There are other people around. You have to be a bit more considerate, Sebastian." She retorted, taking a drag off of her partner's cigarette and pointing to the little ring of other employees that BLU had sent to the station to collect the newcomers. The man scoffed but didn't say anything else, stealing his cigarette back from between Colette's fingers and casting the remainder of their little squad a charged glance.
"Perhaps they just need to get over it."
((I kinda left it open for some of you guys to bring in characters here at the base, waiting to unload the train and direct the new resupply. My headcanon says that BLU probably wants to consolidate as much as possible so they stick new recruits on the same train as resupply. Thus, they need people to direct the newbies and help unload the train of stock. Yeah. I dunno if this is what you were expecting at first, but I blame Lean and Red; they wanted me to start tonight, even when I'm half asleep. xD So here ya go!))
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TF2 RP
Aug 3, 2010 12:17:27 GMT -5
Post by snipespuppybunch56 on Aug 3, 2010 12:17:27 GMT -5
Daamon sat on the ground looking blanking at the tracks below. The spies to his far left couldn't be anyomore annoying to him, and he really hoped the Scouts wouldn't start anything more that would give him a headache. A tap at his shoulder Daamon turned and looked straight into two glass mirrors of a gas mask. Daamon smirked and the mask slightly moved where the human cheeks would be, Daamon knew there was a smile under there. The Blu Pyro sat next to the Sniper criss crossed like a child in kindergarden, well if minus the flame thrower on it's lap.
Daamon didn't really know what was under that mask, male or female he didn't care, but he could tell which Pyro was his. The Sniper counted on the obvious orange hair that stuck out of a gash in the mask. Daamon asked if it would ever get the scratch repaired, but his friend, well sorta friend would give Daamon the normal shrugg like every other question he would ask it. His Pyro was a quiet one, a mumble here and there sure but queit none the less. Daamon liked it though, when he had something to say Pyro would just listen and when it was quiet time the Pyro would gave Daamon a happy tone.
"Can't believe I'm here three weeks 'n' we already need new recuits." Daamon sighed flicking the burned out cigartte he barely used.
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TF2 RP
Aug 3, 2010 12:54:24 GMT -5
Post by boinkbonk on Aug 3, 2010 12:54:24 GMT -5
The waiting had always been one of the worst parts of this job. Waiting for his food to be cooked at night, waiting for his turn at the worn-out record player in the main room, waiting for the next day when the battlefield would come to life again and like tonight, waiting all night for another trainload of supplies and recruits to show up late. Again… But no matter the boredom now, he managed to remain in higher spirits then most of his colleagues. He had something to look forward to when it finally arrived, after all. He’d get loads of entertainment from these new faces on the job tomorrow.
The job. It was definitely a harsh one but Russel couldn’t complain. It was exhilarating, paid well enough and most importantly was far, far away from home. Well, if he could even consider that piece of shit town home anymore. He’d been gone since he was 16, without so much as a letter to his mother since. Going on 20 now, it felt like he’d been gone far too long to still be thinking of the streets he grew up on like that. He had left for a reason, and going back would just negate everything, especially if that meant leaving BLU’s contract. No, he could never go back after this. He was properly on his own now and that’s the way it always had to be.
Stretching loudly, the young man glanced down from his perch on the roof of the train stop, eyes wandering across each face with mild interest. He grimaced openly when he saw that bastard of a spy grab Colette. He had grown fond of the female spy over his time here, but that sleaze ball always managed to show up and ruin any of their time together. Russel rolled his eyes, purposely turning away until his sight settled on a face that caught his interest. Expression shifting suddenly into a grin, he pushed himself up and hopped noisily down from the roof, making his way over to one of his new favorite teammates to play with.
“Yo, Crocodile Dundee!” He smirked, before catching sight of the pyro on the other side of him. He gave a small wave to the pyro before turning back to the gunman. “How about these new recruits, huh? It seems like jus yesterday you were climbing off this same train, not a damn clue in your head what you were getting into! And not a clue in mine that we were getting such a god awful shot for a sniper! Haha! … OH! I wonder if we’re getting any girls this go round! I hope we get a hot one for onc-” The sound of a distant train horn interrupted the scouts musings. The train would be pulling up soon.
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TF2 RP
Aug 3, 2010 14:17:01 GMT -5
Post by snipespuppybunch56 on Aug 3, 2010 14:17:01 GMT -5
A few curses slipped Daamon's mouth quietly on how his prayers had failed, the headache started to roll in. He wonder why a Scout would choose him to talk to as he looked up at Russel. The classic stone face was plaster to Daamon. "You know how many we're getting this time?" This conversation called for another cigarette, Daamon pulled out his last one from the pack lighting it.
The Pyro looked up too with curiousity. It nodded to the boy wanting to know more.
The sound of the train became more clear, Daamon looked to see the smoke of the enigine. He sighed standing up stretching from the hours of waiting; towering over the Scout by a foot and a bit more. The Pyro followed. Daamon revealed his scruffy untained brown hair as he pulled off the darken Snipe hat. He scruffed it more before slipping the hat back on. Adjusting the sunglasses he looked to his friend Pyro as it was smiling back.
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TF2 RP
Aug 3, 2010 18:12:31 GMT -5
Post by Tempest Reign on Aug 3, 2010 18:12:31 GMT -5
The only reason Lane even realized he had fallen asleep was because the faint ping and static of a P.A. system clicking to life jolted him out of an empty dream. Some mechanically peppy female voice warned the passengers of their arrival to the god-forsaken middle of nowhere and that they should begin collecting their belongings. Lane glanced around skeptically. The only "belonging" he'd seen on anyone was the dark woman's bottle and even in near-comatose, he knew you'd have to pry that away from her with a crowbar. The Southerner in the back of the car must have been thinking the same thing because he let out a dry, hoarse little chuckle the minute the P.A. system fizzled out.
The train began to slow, grinding to an agonizingly long halt as the occupants of the car began to slide out from their seats and moan at the pain in their under stretched limbs. Lane couldn't help but give the drunken woman a passing glance; he wasn't quite sure how much of a wake-up call she was going to need and if anyone here was even equipped to produce that kind of noise. The hard click of the adjoining car door being flung open answered his questioning little stare. The man from earlier had finally reappeared, this time with a clunky helmet at least two sizes too big clenched in one meaty hand.
"Everybody up!" He barked to no one in particular, dumping the helmet on top of his head and pushing it back with his thumb. His quick sweep of the train landed on the woman strewn across the seats and immediately sunk into a hard grimace. Grumbling, the stocky man barreled over to her, shoving Lane's slight little form away and wrenching the woman up by the front of her vest.
"THAT MEANS YOU MAGGOT!"
The Spy's theory stood deafeningly corrected; apparently ONE of them could make an excessive amount of noise. It was enough though and one of the woman's eyes lulled open.The bottle in her hand suddenly swung up and collided with the man's helmet, shattering. The broken glass tinkled to the floor and dusted the Soldier's shoulders with it's little shards.
"Now look whatcha did." The woman slurred. "Tha' was a perfectly good bottle an' ya had to go'n break it, ya screechin' pile a..." It took everything Lane possibly had to keep from slapping his palm against his forehead. Elite group. Who had BLU been kidding? He'd be amazed if they even got off of the train without killing each other. The Engineer at the back of train had probably gotten pretty good at reading the low slump of Lane's shoulders because he managed to steer the Soldier away from the woman he was about to throttle and towards the door. The female Demo picked herself up off of the ground and drew herself to full height with a drunken swagger.
"That'll teach ya! Hehehe..." The woman chuckled to herself and glanced over to the Spy who still hadn't had the sense to move off. Wrenching him by the shoulders, the female Demo grinned.
"Aye, don't be tryin' to hide there boyo. We've got a team to meet. C'mon." Not like she would give the Frenchman any choice. They followed the brunette as he bolted out of the door, Lane half-dragged after the dark woman. Even with all of the booze in her system, the female Demo made it onto the platform without tripping too much. As Lane stepped onto the graciously solid ground and detached himself from the hip of the Demo, his attention caught on a little ring of blue slowly inching their way.
"A welcome wagon." He muttered dryly, sighing. Who in the world was BLU kidding?
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As the train hissed into place against the platform, Colette brushed Sebastian's hands away and began to wander over to the cargo cars that were being hauled open. The recruits could be handled after they unloaded. Sebastian watched his partner slink away from the group with a smirk. He knew her well enough to know what she was really doing. Colette liked to watch first, interact later. She was going to figure out the basis of each of the newbie's personalities first, then worm her way into their minds later on. It was just what she did.
He, meanwhile, preferred to set up his position up front. Pushing himself up from his seat and arranging his lips into a self-satisfied smirk, the Frenchman strode up to the remainder of their rag-tag assembly of unloading crew.
"Well?" He prompted as he passed, gesturing towards the car that Colette was already climbing into. "Are you gentlemen waiting for a handwritten invitation?"
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TF2 RP
Aug 4, 2010 11:12:41 GMT -5
Post by boinkbonk on Aug 4, 2010 11:12:41 GMT -5
The Australians mumbled cursing fell on deaf ears as the young man continued his ramblings; fidgeting anxiously as he waited for the train to finish pulling up. “Dunno’ man, guess we’ll find out soon enough though.” A smooth voice suddenly sounded from behind him, causing him to whip around abruptly and jump back away from the source with a startled look on his face; almost crashing into the gunman and pyro he had just been facing. “WHAT THE FUCK?!” The fear on his face immediately melted to resentment when he saw the supplier of the shock. He scowled, grumbling loudly as he pushed past Sebastian towards the stopped train. “goddamnmotherfuckingspies. Gonna strap his ugly ass to the bottom of the train, let it drag his ugly mug all the way back to wherever the fuck it came from…”
The young man made his way to the side of the train, anger ebbing away slightly as he looked curiously up at the movements on the other side of the windows. The sounds of yelling from inside the passenger car were nothing new, for BLU never had been known for hiring the most sane mercenaries out there. The faint sounds of the demo’s voice carried out to the waiting teammates causing the brunette to turn back excitedly to the Sniper still waiting a bit back. “Guys! It’s a skirt! I can hear her!” The doors to the car slid open and Russel stepped forward eager to see the new teammates, especially this new mysterious female voice he heard. A new scout bolted off first, Russ grinning at him and raising a hand to receive a high five from the kid as he passed. He made it a job to help the new scouts out when they arrived seeing as he was the closest they’d get to a mentor before the fighting started. He traded names with the boy before he zipped off, eager to explore his new surroundings. Turning back to the car he saw that the Demo had staggered off, dragging yet another spy off with her. Russel’s excitement was again shattered. He watched her for a little while, eyebrows furrowed as she stumbled around. He grabbed at his hat, pulling it off in exasperation. “GAH! WHY ARE ALL THE CHICKS AROUND HERE FUCKING NUTS?!”
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TF2 RP
Aug 4, 2010 17:01:06 GMT -5
Post by snipespuppybunch56 on Aug 4, 2010 17:01:06 GMT -5
Daamon glared the spy down; remembering his first day running into a RED spy and meeting the Medic all in one day was not helping the fact either. Sighing a puff of smoke he pushed the memory aside. The Sniper and Pyro watched the Scout hurry to the train first as it opened. Hearing Russel's excitement about a girl, Daamon looked to Pyro. "You really think we''ll be getting a chick this time?" Sniper ask his friend starting to walk.
Pyro shrugged following Daamon toward the train. But the pair stopped in they're tracks as they saw the Female Demo step off the train, followed by the Scout face.
“GAH! WHY ARE ALL THE CHICKS AROUND HERE FUCKING NUTS?!” The poor Scout.
Pyro looked to the aussie and they both laughed.
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TF2 RP
Aug 4, 2010 18:47:07 GMT -5
Post by Tempest Reign on Aug 4, 2010 18:47:07 GMT -5
BLU must have had a taste for insanity; the yelling didn't stop even when they were off of the train. Voices tuned to the streets of Boston were suddenly EVERYWHERE, switching between talking loudly and yelling without a breath in between. Lane cringed; that was going to take some getting used to. He and his family were quiet by nature and so he had never really learned to cope with those that weren't. The Demo Lane had been dragged off of the train by suddenly swung around to face the Scout that was staring at her. She eased forward slightly, squinting, and frowned.
"Ya better watch yer tongue there, boyo." She growled, gesturing to the boy violently with her bottle and sloshing booze in his direction. "I have ya know that we're a dyin' breed. I know we ain't what ya hopin' for, but ya ain't gonna find any 'a them high class posies runnin' around out here. Bloody waste'a space 'n time if ya ask me." The woman's voice slowly dropped to an incoherent mutter. She continued to babble to herself until she caught sight of the bottle in her hand like she had forgotten it was there and took a deep swig. Lane grimaced openly at the sight. So far, not a single one of these people were even remotely normal. This HAD to be some kind of elaborate joke; sticking the dregs of society together in one place and asking them to fight couldn't possibly work.
"I am certain that BLU has no use for the 'normal' women you are looking for amie." A voice drifted out of one of the cargo cars, followed by a masked face with a faint smile. "You won't find many sane women who are willing to plunge headfirst into a firefight." The woman jumped down onto the platform with a stack of small boxes and set them down next to a slowly growing pile. A Spy, Lane realized, and a female one at that. And though she seemed to be agreeing with the Scout as to the nature of women on the base, SHE seemed to have scraped together at least a mask of sanity. The female Spy caught him staring and shot him a faint nod before swinging back up into the train car. Invited by the friendly gesture and the promise of normal conversation, the Frenchman moved quickly away from the warring glares of the Demo and Scout and towards the cargo car. Their orders HAD been to help unload; though they were remotely operated, the trains still had a timetable and they were warned that anything left on the train after the allotted half hour would leave with it.
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The Scout's three foot leap and terrified yelping was enough to keep Sebastian grinning all day; he hadn't even been TRYING to sneak up on the little group. He made a note to remember how jumpy Russel was and to exploit it at any cost. The Pyro and the Sniper had moved off before he got a chance to make any biting comments so the Frenchman just shrugged, took another long drag of his cigarette, dropped it to the floor and crushed it under the heel of his shoe before moving to follow Colette's path. He slowed only briefly to watch the newest recruits stumble out, sneering at the sight of yet ANOTHER Scout (as if one wasn't already enough) as well as another Demoman...or woman rather. Russel's moan of disappointment would have been much more satisfying if Sebastian hadn't caught sight of their final recruit. Another Spy. The Frechman's eyes narrowed. What exactly was BLU saying by sending them another Spy? True, they'd had a rough week and were on a rocky loosing streak but surely not because of anything the Spies had done. Five was an insane number to have around.
Not to mention, their newest addition looked like a greenhorn AND a coward. Scowling for the first time that day, Sebastian quickened his pace to meet his partner. Some argument had drawn her out from the cargo car and, to his frustration, had called the new Spy over. He immediately changed his course, taking a few long strides towards the little huddle of recruits and veterans that stood idling about.
"As much as I would like to stand here all night and wait for the train to unload itself, I don't think we quite have that luxury." He sneered when he was within earshot, gesturing back towards where Colette and the new Spy were working. "Let's go." He didn't even so much as bother to wait for some snarky comeback he knew was coming before he swung away from group and stalked towards the cargo car.
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TF2 RP
Aug 4, 2010 20:51:29 GMT -5
Post by Chesa on Aug 4, 2010 20:51:29 GMT -5
Distance, 4 miles. Not much of a run, and with the sun at 2 o'clock it'd take a bird not much time at all to fly that far. There were heavy boot falls and muffled pants as a strange, jumpsuit clad RED ran towards the enemy's base. All wrong! Can't believe it! With the heat at the correct size and the cheese in season it should've worked! She thought angrily to herself, eyes narrowed on the approaching base. She was a strange character. Towering at almost six feet tall she had a tendency to lumber as she ran, carrying heavy oxygen tanks and a flame thrower in her hands she was by no means a small woman.
She wasn't exactly the run of the mill soldier. Recruited straight out of a mental asylum she was literally dangerous, to not just her enemy's, but to her ally's as well. She enjoyed fire just a little too much for most peoples taste. Family? None, gone in a mysterious fire accident, which to that day she would swear wasn't her fault, but her actions didn't give her any saving graces for that part.
The base was now towering near her. She didn't care for a stealthy entrance or worrying about any possible sentries. She blast right around to the back, a loud, heavy, maniacal laugh announcing her presence. She was alone, a stupid, head long attack that was almost definitely going to end poorly for her, but that wasn't exactly something she ever cared about as she climbed on the top of one of the top of a cargo trailer.
She let another spine shutter laugh out as she thrust the flamethrower into the air, before jumping to the ground, letting the fire blaze. The closest to her was a little scout. Ha! Little running chickens! Time to fry! She thought, turning the flames on him. Heat 1200 degrees, low but leaves blistering burns that turn a cool black color She turned away from him, the cargo train having caught ablaze from the free flame.
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TF2 RP
Aug 5, 2010 11:41:25 GMT -5
Post by boinkbonk on Aug 5, 2010 11:41:25 GMT -5
Russel rolled his eyes at the dark woman chugging her drink in front of him. He grumbled quietly to himself, angry that he had been called out not only by the new demo but by Colette too.“Of course you’re a dying breed, what kinda man in his right mind would want to have babies with chicks like you?” Sebastian’s voice from the other side of him only increased his temper, but right as he moved to give the insufferable spy a piece of his mind, the sound of a muffled yell boomed from right behind him. He whirled around frantically just in time to see a huge pyro crash down in front of him, flamethrower blazing.
“FUCK!! IT’S THE REDS!” He screamed, bolting away as quickly as his legs could carry him. His eyes locked on the closest people to him as he ran, the new recruits. They were as unarmed as he was, but he knew better how to handle these god damn RED’s. “GO GO GO!!” He yelled, running into the pack and shoving harshly at the engineer and female demo. The group caught on quickly and got far enough away to avoid the incoming blaze. As soon as Russel was content with their distance, he turned quickly scanning their old group for anyone who was armed. The chaos was making it hard to see and the resupply car had burst into flames, tearing at his nerves. He caught sight of the RED pyro again, who surprisingly appeared to be alone; it was tromping towards their sniper, yelling as it ran. The scout looked around for anything to use as a weapon but only caught sight of the new soldier who was yelling something about Nazi’s and waving a shovel around as he broke away from the group towards the enemy. Russel tore after the soldier, plucking the shovel right out of his hand as he continued towards the pyro. He yelled back over his shoulder as he ran. “Thanks, man! Good luck with them Nazi’s!”
He looked back at Daamon doing his best to keep away from the RED’s fire. “KEEP EM BUSY, LEGS. I’VE GOT YA!” The yelling however caught the pyro’s attention and it spun suddenly, sending a burst of fire right in the scouts way. He stuck a leg out, breaking into a baseball slide in the dirt to stop himself as flames flew over his head. He rolled out of the way and struggled to pull himself up quick enough to avoid the blaze. His vision caught something wrong with his left hand. A quick glance down told him that his wrist wrap had caught fire in his attempt to get out of the way, the red burn marks up his arm told him that he hadn’t quite dodged as well as he could have. No time to do anything else, he broke into another run, screaming back at his team and praying for another break. “GET IT THE HELL OFF ME!!”
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TF2 RP
Aug 5, 2010 13:38:10 GMT -5
Post by snipespuppybunch56 on Aug 5, 2010 13:38:10 GMT -5
The cry of the emeny caught the pair's attention, and the laughing stopped. Blu Pyro quickly reacted pushing his friend out of the way, fully knowing he was not armed with the normal Sniper gear. It ran into the flames towards the RED Pyro ramming into the emeny; fighting it off with its own flame thrower. Knowing there was not much he could do with Pyro but at least he could stall.
Running for Russel, Daamon pulled off his vest. "Hold still let me put out the flames!" Sliding his foot to trip the Scout he started to pat the fire out.
(XP Dont laugh I know its Bad!)
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TF2 RP
Aug 5, 2010 14:34:30 GMT -5
Post by Tempest Reign on Aug 5, 2010 14:34:30 GMT -5
Mingled screams and curses were the only warning the two Spies in the cargo car got before everything burst into flames. All of the neatly stacked supply boxes were either wood or cardboard, and one lick of the maniacal RED's fire lit up the entire belly of the car.
"Merde!" In the rapidly forming cloud of smoke, Lane barely caught sight of the female Spy dumping some of the crates in her hands out onto the platform. Something shattered inside as it hit the ground, but it was better to save something then nothing at all. Maybe they'd be able to save a bit more of BLU's crucial supplies before they had to leap off....
Then the fire closed in and barricaded their only exit.
The new Spy reeled back as the flames threw themselves at him, properly dumbfounded by the rapidly churning fire and the choking smog that it produced as it ate through cardboard. Thankfully, he hadn't climbed aboard alone. Swearing incessantly, Colette made a mad dash for the other side of the train car, hacking and calling for their new recruit to help her. The opposing door was locked by a heavy steel bolt, but at least it looked like they might be able to pry it open. It took both of them shoving every little ounce of body weight they had at the rod to make it budge a few inches. And the plumes of smoke were getting thicker with every passing second; one open door wasn't going to provide enough draft to whisk it away.
"Come on, come on, come on...!" Colette's faint prayers weren't doing much to move the bolt by themselves and both of the Spies were melting under the heat and hacking on far too much smog. They began throwing themselves repeatedly at the steel bolt, increasingly desperate. Each shove got a little less power behind it, fading until Colette slumped against the side of the door and Lane could only manage to pound weakly at the bolt with his shoulder. Once, twice, three times and then he felt his knees give out.
About that time, the bolt slid out of place and the side of the cargo car slid away. A merciful draft batted the smoke away and though the flames suddenly flared with new oxygen, it gave the two BLUs enough time to drag themselves over the edge of the train and spill out onto the platform in a panting, still-hacking slump. She was out of it, but Colette still recognized the faint danger of fire that had clung onto the tails of Lane's jacket. Groaning with effort, the woman pushed herself up on her hands and knees. A faint grappling with the pocket of her jacket allowed her a knife in her hand and she slit the other Spy's jacket up the back and tore it off of him. The ruined suit was kicked aside, but not before it sparked a blaze on the thigh of her pant leg and forced her to kick those off as well before the entire garment went up in flames. Indecent exposure, but Antoine would understand; no one really LIKED being burned to death, Respawn or otherwise. She'd take exposure, thank you very much
. For a long moment, low and away from the smoke, the two Spies were content to hack up the cardboard smoke and choke on fresh air. Smokers or not, there was something incredibly different about enjoying a cigarette and being trapped in a room of blazing boxes.
"Are you..." Lane managed to squeak around a cough, concerned but not enough to look up at the woman that had saved them. She coughed in equal time and managed a faint, "Fine." From the sounds on the other side of the car, the Pyro was still on a vengeful rampage. Colette pressed closer to the underbelly of the train car, activated her cloak and coiled herself as far away from the main walkway of the platform as possible. At least if the RED decided to wander around to THIS side of the train, she wouldn't notice them. Not immediately anyway.
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The maniacal cackle was all of the warning Sebastian got before the interior of the train car erupted into flames. The interior. With Colette still inside. The man's frustration and catty smugness was ripped away as the cargo car filled with smoke and blocked out the other Spy's silhouette.
"Merde! Colette....!" Thankfully, the Pyro was distracted by the Scout's flailing and seemed to have turned his (her?) attention away from the Frenchman for now. His cloak went up as he bolted for the door of the cargo car. By the time he managed to hop up inside, though, the flames had risen to greet him and the rest of the car was shrouded in smoke. He couldn't even call out to the woman inside before he had to leap away trailing flames on the sleeves of his jacket. His cloak failed and Sebastian flickered into view as he ripped the crispy garment off, but not before he dug into it's pocket and snatched the Ambassador. Hell to his knife; this gun was what would take the dirty RED out. The Pyro's movements were completely erratic and hard to predict, but Sebastian liked a challenge. He made a bolt for the pile of crates he'd been sitting on not five minutes before and clambered up to take aim. He wouldn't kill the bastard yet; no, that Pyro didn't deserve to be given the luxury of Respawn. He'd aim for the thigh. That'd slow the RED down. Snarling down the barrel of the gun in his hand, Sebastian took aim and fired. If by some miracle he missed, at least it'd be a proper distraction until someone else could properly beat the maniac to death.
"Au revoir."
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TF2 RP
Aug 5, 2010 15:20:47 GMT -5
Post by boinkbonk on Aug 5, 2010 15:20:47 GMT -5
Russel’s adrenaline pumped sprint was cut short when he was tripped suddenly and the Sniper was over him, trying to pat the flames out. The hands on him triggered an unconscious reaction. He kicked out, yelping and pulling back from the taller man with fear loudly apparent in his eyes. A few nervous pants later, the scout realized who it was and shook his head attempting to dislodge whatever images had popped up in his memory at that moment. He moved back further, pulling himself into a sitting position and tearing the seared wrap off his arm with his teeth and dropping it to the ground. He shot an apologetic glance at Daamon before grabbing at the shovel with his good hand and pushing himself up. He was still shaking slightly, but the sound of a gunshot nearby brought his mind firmly back to the battle at hand. Whirling around, Russel caught sight of the pyro clutching lightly at their leg, but continuing somehow to keep the blaze going. The new engineer had apparently built a quick makeshift slingshot out of the boxes and supplies around and him and the younger scout were loading and firing whatever they could find around at the enemy to keep it on its toes.
The scout’s eyes narrowed. This was the opening he was waiting for. He ran back around the outside, coming at the pyro from behind with the soldiers shovel in his good hand. He turned it sideways as he ran aiming the flat end towards the RED. He jumped at the last minute, bringing down the shovel square on the back of its head. It slumped immediately, falling to the ground in the middle of the BLU team. Russel stood over the body for a minute, adrenaline still blocking his body from feeling the burn on his left arm before looking up with a self satisfied grin. “Now, THAT’S how you do it.”
A couple minutes later after most of the insanity had calmed down. Russel began looking around, checking to make sure everyone was alright. He made his way to the resupply car, watching most of their food rations and ammo burn to the ground in front of his eyes. There wasn’t much else he could do, the inferno was massive by now and he wondered with a grin if the train would still be on fire when it made it back to wherever the hell it was going. He held his injured arm to his side, hiding the burn. No need for anyone to bother him about this, he wasn’t going anywhere NEAR that medic if he didn’t have to when they got back.
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TF2 RP
Aug 5, 2010 18:03:44 GMT -5
Post by Chesa on Aug 5, 2010 18:03:44 GMT -5
The Pyro was having her fun, Throwing fire at her opposite in blue. She cared not for the fact the flame thrower was being weilded and flames were spurting hence forth from it. With a certain clumsy dancers proscion she bobbed and weaved so that the flames didn't hit her, but they only did more damage to their own supplies. "Thanks for the help darling!~" She laughed, (though it came out as incoherent muffles), as a majority of the train had lit up like the fourth of July.
Her sparratic rampage continued until a bullet ended her movement. She blinked in confusion as she went down on one knee. She looked down as the blood mixed with the red of her jumpsuit. She drug a gloved finger over the blood, a twisted smile forming on her face. She had dropped the flame thrower, completely forgetting about everything else for the moment, seeming fixated on the red goop as it leaked from the wound on her leg.
" Bullet wedged above patella...Nice placement...will take time for the little men to get the bullet out and for the wound to decide to come back and play...blood....so much blood...I wonder if I'll die...It-" She turned her head. Few thoughts passed in her mind before a comforting blackness overcame her mind, one of them being " How beautiful, a flying shovel"
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TF2 RP
Aug 6, 2010 0:14:02 GMT -5
Post by snipespuppybunch56 on Aug 6, 2010 0:14:02 GMT -5
Daamon picked himself up from the akward moment he had with scout. What the hell was the about? Looking to his vest seeing the darkeren areas of where it had made contacted with the flames; Daamon sighed, that last cigarette he dropped would've been great.Damn...
Smoke steamed from the RED's flame thrower as the BLU Pyro picked it up. Pyro looked to Russel knowing he was burned but the face he wore told the Pyro"I don't want to see the Medic." That was understandable, It imagined the Medic's face and the shine bone saw; Pyro shivered in the suit. It dragged the emeny's weapon away from the scene for just in case measures, meeting the Sniper's side again. Pyro smiled under the mask hoping to cheer up his friend's mood, but the stone Sniper face stayed as Daamon zone off, looking to the train with disappointment.
"Damn getting new recuits, but half the crikey is gone..." The aussie sighed again.
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