Experimental ch06
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TITLE: Experimental
CHAPTER: 6/?
RATING: PG-13
FANDOM: Team Fortress 2
CHARACTERS: all nine classes, Medic centric
SUMMERY: RED has decided to try something with this 'Experimental' team. Some members decide to try some new things themselves.
Past chapters are linked here.
Engineer's rousing victory swept away the doubts kept carefully hidden by the other women. When the training group moved en masse to the obstacle course some of the men started to regard them with something other than dismissal or disdain. However, when the scouts were called upon to make their way through the course the scorn was thick enough to cut. The young Bostonian was met with a chorus of jeers, ranging from the insulting 'Girl Scout' to things that would make a sailor blush.
Scout didn't seem to hear any of it. She did a few stretches and then enthusiastically bounced where she stood in eager anticipation for her chance to prove herself. Her fellow runners either tried to get a look up her skirt or ignored her completely. Medic knew that the ones smart enough to ignore their considerable hormones and concentrate on the task at hand were much more likely to survive training, and thus survive on the battlefield. It was so subtle that the German woman barely caught it, but the Experimental's Scout seemed to know this as well. She looked at the boys around her flirtatiously but there was a hidden edge to her gaze, measuring the rabble and judging those who refused to notice her short skirt as the most dangerous.
Medic was impressed with the young girl. While the blond openly flirted she did it to be a distraction, not to find herself a boyfriend. She was clever enough to know which of the boys would be a threat to her score on this course and therefore a threat to the team's performance later when they did mock battles. She was every bit your average American teenage girl, a touch tomboyish due to her brother's influence, but she also had the drive necessary for survival in a job such as this.
The German woman sighed in soft relief. Aside from the troubling unknown of their still absent heavy, Medic was most worried about their youngest member. Knowing that the girl had her mind in the right place put most of her fears to rest; physical skill was much easier to learn than mental focus.
In lieu of a starting pistol their instructor fired his shotgun into the ground. Many of the scouts who were preoccupied with the blond's legs missed the mark and lost several precious seconds. Many others were also caught unaware. The Experimental's Scout was one of the few who kept their eyes on Instructor, saw him ready his shotgun, and were already crouched into a runner's start when the blast echoed across the course.
As Medic predicted, Scout's main disadvantage was her height. The tallest scouts quickly moved to the lead by virtue of long legs and big strides. The Bostonian was among the shortest present and lagged about a third of the way from the last stumbling boy. Many of the runners were foolish enough to waste their breath shouting insults at the lone female, but Scout was surprisingly mute. Medic expected that the girl would extend her usual noise to the field soon; she spoke of fights in Boston alleys and her eldest brother's sole caution of taking a second to figure out how badly they were going to beat you before you started bragging.
"LEG UP, LASS!" Demo bellowed, putting Soldier to shame in the volume department. Engineer also seemed concerned about Scout's performance and Pyro probably was as well; while the masked woman was remarkably expressive, it was hard to read the back of her head. Soldier seemed distracted by... a conversation with her shovel. Medic filed the observation away and made a note to observe Soldier's psychiatric state more closely in the future. Sniper and Spy appeared to not care, but Medic could see the calculating mind of a professional at work. The German worried as well, as she did for the performance of all the team, but she still held on to that optimism that had long been a stranger to her.
She was broken from her musings by one of the bystanders standing close by. "Looks like your little Girl Scout doesn't have what it takes to keep up with the boys, eh?"
The team doctor carefully kept her eyes on the course. Engineer did as well, though her knuckles cracked when her fists tightened. It was clear that the Texan had already taken a special interest in their Scout's safety and general well being; Medic wasn't surprised. Demo was less restrained, tossing out an insult that was too slurred by accent to be decipherable, as were Pyro's somewhat irritated sounding 'mmphs'. Soldier had ceased the conversation with her shovel and turned to shout at Scout, completely missing the man's comment. Spy's only response was to absently take out her butterfly knife and flick the blade and handles around absently.
Sniper took the measure of the man over the top of her amber aviator glasses. Her eyes lingered on the crosshair design on the sleeve of his shirt, and after a few moments' thought she must have decided it was then her job to take him down a few pegs.
"Y'say that 'cause you've got no eyes," she drawled, the Outback accent turning thick as syrup.
He bristled. "You think you've got a sharper eye than me?"
"Yes," was the simple reply. "See, the thing is that a woman in this business be a damn sight more aware of her limits, an-"
"Yeah, of which there are many!" the sniper jeered. He obviously thought he was clever.
Sniper rolled her eyes and turned back to the course. "Dunno why I'm even talkin' to a no hoper like you. She'll show you wankers what's what here in a minute."
"Less zan zat, my dearest convict," Spy said in her usual sugary voice. She stopped flicking her blade around and gestured towards the field.
Almost as soon as she finished speaking there was a sudden chorus of bangs and the scouts were hailed with bean bags. It was set up so that the entire run got hit so those lagging behind didn't have the benefit of foreknowledge. At least half the runners tripped or otherwise threw themselves to the ground. Most of them recovered quickly and started running again.
The Experimental's Scout took a bag to the chest, dead center, and it was obvious from her stagger that it knocked the breath out of her. She took cover behind a column within sight of the spectators and took a few seconds to get her breath back. Some of the other scouts were also taking cover instead of running, and a good third of those still moving were taking the time to dodge behind pillars in case another wave hit. Most were running headlong towards the finish line.
About thirty seconds after she was hit the lone female scout appeared ready to start her run again. However, just before she was going dart out she paused and looked around wildly.
"Yer little sheila's seein' ghosts, mate," the male sniper drawled in a bad imitation of an Australian accent.
Sniper might have done something to him but no sooner had he said it and there was another great racket. The young Bostonian had already slammed herself into another column to shield herself from the new hail, this time coming from the other side of the course. She was one of the few to not take a hit, and after the last beanbags fell she was off like a shot.
"Wha..." the man gaped. "How did she-"
"She is a woman who fights," Spy interrupted, "and so she has been told her shortcomingz so often zat it will be at ze front of 'er mind. It does not bring 'er down because she knows she is stronger than they say, but it does cancel out most of ze usual teenage idiocy that leads ze rest to believe zey are invincible."
The man blew her off and went back to watching the scouts.
There was a slight clicking before each volley-that's what Scout stopped to listen for-and that indicated the timing and direction for the barrage of bean bags. A good deal of the scouts figured it out by the third blast, but there were many who decided their best bet was to weather the storm. They held up their arms to guard their heads and kept running. The Experimental's girl stuck to taking cover when the warning sounded.
When Scout reached the finish she hadn't taken any hits aside from the first one, a fact which she shouted for everyone to hear while she did a dance. She was interrupted by Instructor grabbing her arm and propelling her towards one of the two groups he was making out of the finished scouts. The Bostonian's addition to the one caused the other to jeer even louder than they already were; they were the ones who didn't duck and were thus fastest to the finish. Scout started to look pouty and unsure, but when she glanced over to her teammates and saw an array of smug faces she relaxed and started shouting back with insults colorful enough to put the boys to shame.
Eventually the last boy was finished and sorted. Instructor stood in front of them with arms crossed.
"One of these two groups is doing all right," he said, "and the other ain't."
He paused for a moment while the faster group cheered. Among the bystanders there were quite a few cheering too, even though none of the men were divided into teams as the Experimental was. They were cheering the apparent failure of the 'Girl Scout'.
Then Instructor turned to the slower group and grinned. "Good job, kids."
The faster lot shouted with all the teenager fury they had. It took another shotgun blast to the dirt to shut them up enough for Instructor to bellow at them.
"What the hell are you yelling for? You're all dead!" He marched up to the closest scouts and waved the shotgun barrel in their faces. "You think this is going to shoot bean bags? No, it shoots bullets. And yeah, people die in this line of work but it damn well better not be because you morons think you're a god damn Kryptonian. Next time, take some damn cover!"
The boys were well and truly cowed. Several in the other group took it as a sign it was time to boast their superiority, the skirted blond included.
Instructor rounded on them. "Don't you dare think you're done, kiddos. You're a step ahead of this lot, yeah, but that just puts you at the second bottom rung of the ladder. Six weeks isn't a lot of time to prepare when your life is on the line. You've gotta duck and still get to the finish as fast as the other kids. Got me?"
Once they were dismissed Scout immediately tackled Medic and started asking what sort of exercises she should do to work up her leg muscles. After an appearance by the bonesaw and a lecture on personal space, the German woman said, "I'll show you vhich muscles to vork once ve get back to zhe shack. In the meantime, all your focus should be on the tests."
Scout still had her hands in the air as the bonesaw hadn't yet returned to Medic's belt. "Uh... yeah, okay, but what am I gonna do? You're all way smarter than-" Soldier chose that moment to hit herself in the head with her own shovel, "...most of you. How's a kid like me gonna help?"
Medic just shrugged. "You never know."
TITLE: Experimental
CHAPTER: 6/?
RATING: PG-13
FANDOM: Team Fortress 2
CHARACTERS: all nine classes, Medic centric
SUMMERY: RED has decided to try something with this 'Experimental' team. Some members decide to try some new things themselves.
Past chapters are linked here.
Engineer's rousing victory swept away the doubts kept carefully hidden by the other women. When the training group moved en masse to the obstacle course some of the men started to regard them with something other than dismissal or disdain. However, when the scouts were called upon to make their way through the course the scorn was thick enough to cut. The young Bostonian was met with a chorus of jeers, ranging from the insulting 'Girl Scout' to things that would make a sailor blush.
Scout didn't seem to hear any of it. She did a few stretches and then enthusiastically bounced where she stood in eager anticipation for her chance to prove herself. Her fellow runners either tried to get a look up her skirt or ignored her completely. Medic knew that the ones smart enough to ignore their considerable hormones and concentrate on the task at hand were much more likely to survive training, and thus survive on the battlefield. It was so subtle that the German woman barely caught it, but the Experimental's Scout seemed to know this as well. She looked at the boys around her flirtatiously but there was a hidden edge to her gaze, measuring the rabble and judging those who refused to notice her short skirt as the most dangerous.
Medic was impressed with the young girl. While the blond openly flirted she did it to be a distraction, not to find herself a boyfriend. She was clever enough to know which of the boys would be a threat to her score on this course and therefore a threat to the team's performance later when they did mock battles. She was every bit your average American teenage girl, a touch tomboyish due to her brother's influence, but she also had the drive necessary for survival in a job such as this.
The German woman sighed in soft relief. Aside from the troubling unknown of their still absent heavy, Medic was most worried about their youngest member. Knowing that the girl had her mind in the right place put most of her fears to rest; physical skill was much easier to learn than mental focus.
In lieu of a starting pistol their instructor fired his shotgun into the ground. Many of the scouts who were preoccupied with the blond's legs missed the mark and lost several precious seconds. Many others were also caught unaware. The Experimental's Scout was one of the few who kept their eyes on Instructor, saw him ready his shotgun, and were already crouched into a runner's start when the blast echoed across the course.
As Medic predicted, Scout's main disadvantage was her height. The tallest scouts quickly moved to the lead by virtue of long legs and big strides. The Bostonian was among the shortest present and lagged about a third of the way from the last stumbling boy. Many of the runners were foolish enough to waste their breath shouting insults at the lone female, but Scout was surprisingly mute. Medic expected that the girl would extend her usual noise to the field soon; she spoke of fights in Boston alleys and her eldest brother's sole caution of taking a second to figure out how badly they were going to beat you before you started bragging.
"LEG UP, LASS!" Demo bellowed, putting Soldier to shame in the volume department. Engineer also seemed concerned about Scout's performance and Pyro probably was as well; while the masked woman was remarkably expressive, it was hard to read the back of her head. Soldier seemed distracted by... a conversation with her shovel. Medic filed the observation away and made a note to observe Soldier's psychiatric state more closely in the future. Sniper and Spy appeared to not care, but Medic could see the calculating mind of a professional at work. The German worried as well, as she did for the performance of all the team, but she still held on to that optimism that had long been a stranger to her.
She was broken from her musings by one of the bystanders standing close by. "Looks like your little Girl Scout doesn't have what it takes to keep up with the boys, eh?"
The team doctor carefully kept her eyes on the course. Engineer did as well, though her knuckles cracked when her fists tightened. It was clear that the Texan had already taken a special interest in their Scout's safety and general well being; Medic wasn't surprised. Demo was less restrained, tossing out an insult that was too slurred by accent to be decipherable, as were Pyro's somewhat irritated sounding 'mmphs'. Soldier had ceased the conversation with her shovel and turned to shout at Scout, completely missing the man's comment. Spy's only response was to absently take out her butterfly knife and flick the blade and handles around absently.
Sniper took the measure of the man over the top of her amber aviator glasses. Her eyes lingered on the crosshair design on the sleeve of his shirt, and after a few moments' thought she must have decided it was then her job to take him down a few pegs.
"Y'say that 'cause you've got no eyes," she drawled, the Outback accent turning thick as syrup.
He bristled. "You think you've got a sharper eye than me?"
"Yes," was the simple reply. "See, the thing is that a woman in this business be a damn sight more aware of her limits, an-"
"Yeah, of which there are many!" the sniper jeered. He obviously thought he was clever.
Sniper rolled her eyes and turned back to the course. "Dunno why I'm even talkin' to a no hoper like you. She'll show you wankers what's what here in a minute."
"Less zan zat, my dearest convict," Spy said in her usual sugary voice. She stopped flicking her blade around and gestured towards the field.
Almost as soon as she finished speaking there was a sudden chorus of bangs and the scouts were hailed with bean bags. It was set up so that the entire run got hit so those lagging behind didn't have the benefit of foreknowledge. At least half the runners tripped or otherwise threw themselves to the ground. Most of them recovered quickly and started running again.
The Experimental's Scout took a bag to the chest, dead center, and it was obvious from her stagger that it knocked the breath out of her. She took cover behind a column within sight of the spectators and took a few seconds to get her breath back. Some of the other scouts were also taking cover instead of running, and a good third of those still moving were taking the time to dodge behind pillars in case another wave hit. Most were running headlong towards the finish line.
About thirty seconds after she was hit the lone female scout appeared ready to start her run again. However, just before she was going dart out she paused and looked around wildly.
"Yer little sheila's seein' ghosts, mate," the male sniper drawled in a bad imitation of an Australian accent.
Sniper might have done something to him but no sooner had he said it and there was another great racket. The young Bostonian had already slammed herself into another column to shield herself from the new hail, this time coming from the other side of the course. She was one of the few to not take a hit, and after the last beanbags fell she was off like a shot.
"Wha..." the man gaped. "How did she-"
"She is a woman who fights," Spy interrupted, "and so she has been told her shortcomingz so often zat it will be at ze front of 'er mind. It does not bring 'er down because she knows she is stronger than they say, but it does cancel out most of ze usual teenage idiocy that leads ze rest to believe zey are invincible."
The man blew her off and went back to watching the scouts.
There was a slight clicking before each volley-that's what Scout stopped to listen for-and that indicated the timing and direction for the barrage of bean bags. A good deal of the scouts figured it out by the third blast, but there were many who decided their best bet was to weather the storm. They held up their arms to guard their heads and kept running. The Experimental's girl stuck to taking cover when the warning sounded.
When Scout reached the finish she hadn't taken any hits aside from the first one, a fact which she shouted for everyone to hear while she did a dance. She was interrupted by Instructor grabbing her arm and propelling her towards one of the two groups he was making out of the finished scouts. The Bostonian's addition to the one caused the other to jeer even louder than they already were; they were the ones who didn't duck and were thus fastest to the finish. Scout started to look pouty and unsure, but when she glanced over to her teammates and saw an array of smug faces she relaxed and started shouting back with insults colorful enough to put the boys to shame.
Eventually the last boy was finished and sorted. Instructor stood in front of them with arms crossed.
"One of these two groups is doing all right," he said, "and the other ain't."
He paused for a moment while the faster group cheered. Among the bystanders there were quite a few cheering too, even though none of the men were divided into teams as the Experimental was. They were cheering the apparent failure of the 'Girl Scout'.
Then Instructor turned to the slower group and grinned. "Good job, kids."
The faster lot shouted with all the teenager fury they had. It took another shotgun blast to the dirt to shut them up enough for Instructor to bellow at them.
"What the hell are you yelling for? You're all dead!" He marched up to the closest scouts and waved the shotgun barrel in their faces. "You think this is going to shoot bean bags? No, it shoots bullets. And yeah, people die in this line of work but it damn well better not be because you morons think you're a god damn Kryptonian. Next time, take some damn cover!"
The boys were well and truly cowed. Several in the other group took it as a sign it was time to boast their superiority, the skirted blond included.
Instructor rounded on them. "Don't you dare think you're done, kiddos. You're a step ahead of this lot, yeah, but that just puts you at the second bottom rung of the ladder. Six weeks isn't a lot of time to prepare when your life is on the line. You've gotta duck and still get to the finish as fast as the other kids. Got me?"
Once they were dismissed Scout immediately tackled Medic and started asking what sort of exercises she should do to work up her leg muscles. After an appearance by the bonesaw and a lecture on personal space, the German woman said, "I'll show you vhich muscles to vork once ve get back to zhe shack. In the meantime, all your focus should be on the tests."
Scout still had her hands in the air as the bonesaw hadn't yet returned to Medic's belt. "Uh... yeah, okay, but what am I gonna do? You're all way smarter than-" Soldier chose that moment to hit herself in the head with her own shovel, "...most of you. How's a kid like me gonna help?"
Medic just shrugged. "You never know."