BLU Headquarters. Map: 2fort, CTF.

[hands_of_blu]

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 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!]

Comments

[notagagagirl.livejournal.com]

"... Wait wait wait, hold up the body count train... Medic? Grouchy, German, swears a lot and won't tell me what it means, that medic?"

What? She's only heard one person ever refer to himself by that name. It's worth a shot.

[hands-of-blu.livejournal.com]

"Oh, you've met our doctor, have you? And you wound up here anyway?" He shakes his head. "Damn. That's a bad spot you've got yourself in."

[notagagagirl.livejournal.com]

"He's been teaching me thi... what do you mean, bad spot?" She interrupts herself, asking suspiciously. It'd be just her luck if the Medic is suddenly in trouble and that trouble is about to transfer to her. It really would be.

[hands-of-blu.livejournal.com]

"Well, see, most people we meet have the sense not to follow us onto the job site, now, don't they," the man says. "Keeps us from havin' to look after 'em during a firefight. Medic's got the whole team to look after, see. He can't just babysit one person, even if he knows 'em personally."

[notagagagirl.livejournal.com]

See, now he's got her all riled up. That's why he has a scrawny teenager momentarily forgetting that he has a gun almost larger than her while she pokes him in the chest with one equally scrawny finger.
"Most people would have enough brain cells to realize I didn't follow anyone anywhere, durbrain, since I don't know where I am or who the hell you are and I'm not looking to be babysat." She rants.

Loudly.

[hands-of-blu.livejournal.com]

"Miss."

The lanky fellow says it very quietly, very calmly. There's even a bit of a smile on his face.

"This here's a war zone, like I said. If you go around in those clothes, everyone on both sides is gonna do their best to take your head off. Meself included. If you put on a uniform and join in the fighting, only half the people here're gonna try to kill you. Sorry if I assumed the wrong thing, but the fact is, it's fight or go down screaming around here."

[notagagagirl.livejournal.com]

She glares at him for a long minute.

Then she snatches the uniform away from him, muttering something about 'not another damn revolution'.

She has no idea how she's going to explain this to Fury.

[hands-of-blu.livejournal.com]

"Nothing of the sort, miss," says the man, clearly finding her reaction entertaining. "Just your standard struggle for territorial supremacy. You see anyone carryin' a blue briefcase full of papers, light 'em up, and you see anyone drop a red one, grab it and bring it back to one of us. We'll handle it from there."

"I'm the team's lead Sniper, by the way. Pleasure t'meet you."

[notagagagirl.livejournal.com]

That set of instructions earns a patently confused look. "Wait, I thought blue was this team." She demands, ignoring his introduction.

[hands-of-blu.livejournal.com]

"Right. The blue briefcase stays here. That's our intel data on the region," says the Sniper. "We're tryin' to get the intel that the Reds've gathered and bring it back to our headquarters, see. Long as there isn't a Red touching it, the blue intel'l take care of itself, but we've got t'bring the Reds' stuff back by hand if we want to keep it."

[notagagagirl.livejournal.com]

"... Which one of you idiots put all of your intel in one, easy to carry spot?" She finally asks after giving him another long, disbelieving stare.

[hands-of-blu.livejournal.com]

"Wasn't me, mate." The Sniper shrugs easily. "Tell you the truth, it's more a case of being printed out in one place and then stuffed into a briefcase. The intel room's in the basement, see. Easiest place to keep the computers."

[notagagagirl.livejournal.com]

"..." She sighs, deeply. "Great, I've fallen in with a bunch of monkeys with guns. Where's the dressing room?"

[hands-of-blu.livejournal.com]

"You're standing in it."

[notagagagirl.livejournal.com]

"Oh hell no."

[hands-of-blu.livejournal.com]

"Look, we haven't got any female employees, all right? Just the one in charge, and she's not a battlefield op. So we don't need two rooms for this sort of thing. I'll wait for ya on the other side of the door if you want."

[notagagagirl.livejournal.com]

"You just do that, sunshine." She growls in a creditable imitation of Fury in what she thinks of as his 'grumpy bear' routine.

[hands-of-blu.livejournal.com]

The Sniper's mouth twitches, and he touches his hat in salute before ducking out of the room and closing the door behind him.

[notagagagirl.livejournal.com]

Scaramouche sighs when the door is closed. She really is in trouble here, isn't she? And no sign of the door she came through to make a quick escape.

She really ought to have let Fury teach her about weapons things.

She really ought to have let Fury come with her.

...

She's really really terrified.

The rubbery suit takes a bit of fiddling with before she can convince it to be put on in any sort of reasonable fashion, but eventually she decides it's as good as it's ever going to get.

Damn ugly thing that it is.

"Alright, you can come back."

[hands-of-blu.livejournal.com]

The door slides upwards and the Sniper steps back in. He glances over Scara's getup a moment, then nods. "Right," he says. "All that's left is putting on the mask. All Pyros wear 'em. Makes 'em completely fireproof, not like the rest of us yobbos."

[notagagagirl.livejournal.com]

"... Fireproof?" And distantly, she's ridiculously proud that she's not actually squeaking.

Yet.

[hands-of-blu.livejournal.com]

"Fireproof." The Sniper grins. "Aw, don't tell me- you didn't realise they've got Pyros of their own over on RED's side? You won't be the only flamethrower out there by a long shot."

[notagagagirl.livejournal.com]

She pulls the mask on abruptly - though mostly it's to keep this very annoying male person from seeing just how much that idea terrifies her.

[hands-of-blu.livejournal.com]

"There y'are." The Sniper nods encouragingly. "Right, it's simple enough. Keep anyone wearin' red away from our territory. Anyone wearin' blue who acts a bit off, feel free to flame 'em once, nice and quick. RED's got spy technology to make themselves look like anyone at all on our team, and you're our best chance at catchin' them out. Don't get in the Heavy's way, and if you get hurt badly, yell for the Medic as loud as you can. he'll hear you, one way or another."

[notagagagirl.livejournal.com]

She nods to show she understands, not trusting her voice at all.

Suddenly, and quite fiercely, she hopes she never sees the Medic until she's back at Milliways.