hands_of_blu: (medics do it from behind)
A BLU Medic ([personal profile] hands_of_blu) wrote2008-12-01 10:16 am
Entry tags:

BLU Headquarters. Map: 2fort, CTF.

It seems like a perfectly sensible sort of place: pale blue walls, tile flooring, fluorescent lighting high overhead, lockers. There's even a pinup calendar.

But a close look shows the equipment locker to contain more ammunition than some Third World countries use in a month, and the same personal locker that has the small flowered purse in it has a note about asbestos stuck to the door, and the air has that faint tang of antiseptic scrub that only really happens when vast quantities of the stuff are used to wipe out every other smell possible. And a peek out the big, garage-like door reveals what looks not unlike the inside of a barn, save for the weathered Builders League United logo on the wall...


[OOC: This is the BLU side's initial post for the Team Fortress 2 plot. If you want to play on RED, stop by [livejournal.com profile] battin1000. Orientation takes place here and when people get in on both sides we'll have the actual war post. Consult the 2fort Team Fortress 2 wiki page to get an idea of the grounds we'll be playing on!]

[identity profile] licensed-pro.livejournal.com 2008-12-05 04:46 am (UTC)(link)
The first thing Charlie thought when he walked through the door and found himself most definitely not in the bar was that this must be a joke. He was already in the fucked-up bar from hell at the end of the universe, what could possibly be next?

Apparently, the barn from hell at the end of the universe. "What the hell..."

[identity profile] hands-of-blu.livejournal.com 2008-12-05 04:50 am (UTC)(link)
The big garage-like door slides up to admit a coverall-wearing fellow in a blue shirt, bright yellow hard hat, and pair of goggles. He doesn't seem to notice Charlie at first, being more focused on getting to one of the supply cabinets in a hurry.

[identity profile] licensed-pro.livejournal.com 2008-12-05 04:58 am (UTC)(link)
Oh look, person. Admittedly, oddly-dressed and not entirely talkative person, but it's better than nothing.

"'Scuse me, but you wouldn't be able to tell me exactly where we are right now, could you?"

[identity profile] hands-of-blu.livejournal.com 2008-12-05 05:00 am (UTC)(link)
The man yelps and actively jumps at the unfamiliar voice, but he comes down facing Charlie, so that's something, at least. "What the- what in the Sam Hill are you doing in here, boy?" he demands. "This whole zone's off limits."

[identity profile] licensed-pro.livejournal.com 2008-12-05 05:04 am (UTC)(link)
"Standing and waiting for you to answer, to be honest." Charlie hooks his thumbs in the pocket-slits of his trousers and blinks at him. Not going to say anything about being called boy. Really.
dark_dancer: (Default)

[personal profile] dark_dancer 2008-12-05 07:31 pm (UTC)(link)
Cata only noticed the door she was trying to take back to Bistort wasn't the usual when she was halfway through it; by then, she couldn't correct her trajectory. She frowns a bit as she takes in the new surroundings; after all, it always pays to know what's going on around you.
(The color scheme gives her the barest inkling of an idea, but she won't be sold on that until she sees someone.)

[identity profile] hands-of-blu.livejournal.com 2008-12-06 03:00 am (UTC)(link)
Which may happen sooner than one might expect. The sound of footsteps heralds an arrival shortly, one that might be familiar to her, or at least recognizable.

"Mein Gott! Frau Cata, vot on Earth are you doing here?"
dark_dancer: (Default)

[personal profile] dark_dancer 2008-12-06 03:17 am (UTC)(link)
Cata shrugs. "I was just trying to go home. By the time I realised I had the wrong door, I couldn't turn around."
She is glad to know she was right in her guess of where she was, even though she has a feeling it'll only complicate things further, in the short term. She can live with that, though.

[identity profile] hands-of-blu.livejournal.com 2008-12-06 03:32 am (UTC)(link)
"Himmelherrgott." The Medic shakes his head. "Zis is bad, zis is very bad... Frau Cata, if you can by any chance return to ze Bar immediately by some door or ozzer, I vould suggest you do so. Ozzervise matters grow complicated much more quickly zan eizer of us vould like."
dark_dancer: (do not want)

[personal profile] dark_dancer 2008-12-06 03:41 am (UTC)(link)
"Fair enough." She turns around, figuring the door she came in through will still be there...
...Except for where it isn't.
"Oh, pooka piss."

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scurlock: (cowboy)

[personal profile] scurlock 2008-12-07 01:58 am (UTC)(link)
Doc's not entirely sure why he checked the blue door.

But he knows that scent of antiseptic, even if the door behind him isn't there anymore...he's not going to freak out. Just wish he had his guns. But since he doesn't, naturally, he goes to see if anyone is around.

Carefully.

[identity profile] hands-of-blu.livejournal.com 2008-12-07 07:00 pm (UTC)(link)
He doesn't have to go far. Before he can even open the main sliding door, someone opens from the other side- and stops, and stares.

"Vot in- vhere are you people coming from?"
scurlock: (excuse me?)

[personal profile] scurlock 2008-12-08 12:56 am (UTC)(link)




"...the door was blue. That would make sense. Medic?"

Please let this be the one I know.

[identity profile] hands-of-blu.livejournal.com 2008-12-08 01:10 am (UTC)(link)
The Medic draws a hand over his face. "Mein Gott. Guten morgen, Doc; you come at a very bad time. Ze Reds vill be attacking any minute now und I haf no time to try to find a vay back."
scurlock: (excuse me?)

[personal profile] scurlock 2008-12-08 01:12 am (UTC)(link)
"Attackin'?"

Eyebrow goes up, and Doc glances around. There's no obvious door with the bar on the other side, so he nods. "Alright, then. What can I do t'help?"

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[identity profile] betterthantruth.livejournal.com 2008-12-07 10:36 pm (UTC)(link)
Most people would know better than to poke their noses in business not their own, but Garak knows better than most people. He knows, that the first thing you do after poking your head through that intriguingly blue door (which, we may note, was of a shade he's always been particularly fond of), is to take stock of your surroundings.

They are unlike anything he has ever seen. Peculiarly archaic, but with a certain, disinfected sort of charm. But, judging by the agenda on the wall, enhanced as it is by a Human female wearing barely a thread on her body - well - it is hardly difficult to surmise this is some kind of Earth.

The storage space gets a cursory glance, as does the material within.

Next, he ventures into the adjacent facility, ever ready to make good use of his open mind.

[identity profile] hands-of-blu.livejournal.com 2008-12-08 01:12 am (UTC)(link)
The first person he meets there is another Human, crouched among several piles of hay littering the area outside the vertical door. He wears coveralls and a blue shirt, but a yellow hard-hat and thick rubber gloves, and when he looks up his eyes are completely covered by goggles. "What in- aw, dammit, someone's been playin' games with my teleporters, haven't they..."

[identity profile] betterthantruth.livejournal.com 2008-12-08 07:38 pm (UTC)(link)
"If I were the one in charge," Garak replies with a smile. "I would have a serious discussion with the Chief of Security about the Chief of Engineering."

Just keep an open mind, Garak reminds himself. Just keep an open mind, and be prepared for any kind of event.

[identity profile] hands-of-blu.livejournal.com 2008-12-08 07:51 pm (UTC)(link)
"That'd be me, and I'll tell you, right about now I'm wondering what the heck I got into last night." He shakes his head, and then looks a little more closely at the newcomer. "Well, I'll be. Gotta be honest with you, mister: I don't think I've ever seen anybody quite like you, and I've been workin' all over the world most of my life."

[identity profile] betterthantruth.livejournal.com 2008-12-08 08:12 pm (UTC)(link)
"I suppose that would greatly depend on the world you've been working all over, wouldn't you agree?"

His hands splay out in a wide-armed gesture universally interpreted as a friendly one. "But I do not mean to offend. My name is Garak. It is very good to make your acquaintance, Mister...?"

[identity profile] notagagagirl.livejournal.com 2008-12-08 01:08 am (UTC)(link)
"Um." What might be the most awkward person to ever step into BLU headquarters has suddenly realized that this?

Really really really not the Heartbreak Hotel.

This would be a bad time to protest that she just wanted some fingerless gloves and knew Cliff was keeping a pair hidden in the back of the storage bin.

[identity profile] hands-of-blu.livejournal.com 2008-12-08 01:20 am (UTC)(link)
Very bad. Especially given that someone's coming around the corner now. He's a good six-foot-something, blue shirt, brown hat, black vest, gray trousers...

We'd mention that he's wearing fingerless gloves, but given that he's carrying a rifle nearly as long as the distance from armpit to ground, that may not be immediately evident.

[identity profile] notagagagirl.livejournal.com 2008-12-08 01:33 am (UTC)(link)
Definitely secondary at this point.

She squeaks unhappily, backing against the wall...

...

Except the 'wall' isn't really a wall, just something that unbalances and makes a whole lot of noise clattering to the ground when she bumps into it.

Well. Hell.

[identity profile] hands-of-blu.livejournal.com 2008-12-08 01:36 am (UTC)(link)
The lanky fellow whips around to have a look at the source of the noise, and sucks wind between his teeth. "Well, I'll be blown," he mutters, peering over his sunglasses at the girl. "What's a civilian like you doin' all this way out here, eh?"

[identity profile] notagagagirl.livejournal.com 2008-12-08 01:39 am (UTC)(link)
"Like you? What the hell that's supposed to mean? And I'm not a civilian, I'm.... Um."

Her reflexive, nerve-driven rant sputters out once she realizes that there's a small problem with her argument. You know, other than the part where she's on the ground surrounded by fallen machinery bits and he's got a gun nearly as tall as she is.

"What's a civilian?"