#tf2 flaming arrow

[boyakishantriage]

Trio thing:

time, time frame, era, age and time age in that order before your ask.

Time era: the era a specific muse is from.

Time age: specific era segment muse is from.

Listed later.

Muses:

Main:

Main trio:

Zeta: aforementioned British dude, brown hair and blue eyes. Something called "master of non matter and energy." Or sm. Doesn't really seem to care, do note. Contrary to popular belief, he is NOT arrogant. He just doesn't care, blunt and confident. That combination can appear arrogant, but trust me. If he really was arrogant he wouldn't be asking.

Alpha: some big black guy, commander of some of heaven's armies. Down show up often, when he does it's usually important. Specialises in spear and ice magic, a master of matter. Always has some crystals on him as well as various explosives. Y'know, just in case.

Beta: red headed French Celt British woman. Half a shapeshifter, able to adjust her body at will. Master of energy or sm, her power is directly connected to the list, wrath, greed and envy of the world.

Others:

Delta: the devil of the prophesy. Similar in power and skill to her mother, just a bit more sporadic and patient. Current master of energy, with a similar linkage.

Chameleon: daughter of Zeta and [REDACTED], specialising in assassination, infiltration and mass murder. Also seduction, similarity skilled as father and mother with typically using power from mother side. She's an orphan :D.

Yankee: new yorker healer girl. Looks like a younger version of Ceta. Her powers have not been revealed to this blog yet.

Charlie: a pair of siblings, both scouts and both bickering with each other. Neither use powers, but they're just very fast. Charlie (the girl) likes guns. whereas Charlie(the dude) likes bows.

Charlie: a Charisk couple, similar to @askmercyseries except that Chara can use her determination like magic and Frisk is still a pacifist baby.

Charlie: a non-binary asshole who still owes me a server.

Rose: me! An AI, nothing more since no one's asked me anything in ages.

Bow: sword fighter who sometimes takes over Charlie when he needs to fight.

Sword: queer friend with bow, likes bows and guns.

Blackout: Fran's couple, one's working in civil the other you don't wanna meet.

Foxtrot: sister to Beta, has half her power and more skill. Beta wins by sheer brute force, married to Alpha.

Frans: Frans, generic. Can shift to other Frans couple at will, canonical reason to shenanigans.

MP4, C4, Blade: Blaze's troops. Leaders of third platoon.

Blaze: what happens when Zeta and Beta do a job together. Older than Chameleon, because time shenanigans, despite being born ten years prior to her. Specialises in making areas vanish.

Flama: master of fire, don't ask.

Fira: master of flame, don't bother him.

Aqua: a child of Alpha and somebody, more dangerous in society than anything else.

Arrow: robin hood's daughter/son. I dunno.

Ceta: Beta's wife, it's a long story. Combat medic, like Medic from TF2 & 1, gender bent with a skill and mentality that makes her basically the greatest warrior in the world by sheer skill.

Boom: boom.

[thesuperawesomeaarpong]

In tomb raider(2013) lighting a torch requires you to find a fire and hold down a button for a second as an animation plays. This approach to interacting with objects became the standard starting in the ps3/xbox360 era. This makes sense as this was when video games made a big jump towards looking more realistic.

The problem with this approach is that it is a rather slow and static way of interacting with the world. In zelda ocarina of time; all a player needs to do to light a deku stick is whip it out and touch a torch after which the player just needs the flame to touch something flammable to burn it. The same is true for the wind waker and even in twilight princess; lighting torches was as simple as waving your lantern near a one.

What’s interesting to note is that later on in tomb raider lara gains access to fire arrows which can burn objects by just shooting them. This mechanic also exists in Oot and wind waker. In majoras mask there is even a puzzle where link needs to shoot an arrow through a torch to light it on fire to burn a spider web.

Using static animations for actions may look more realistic but it also limits in what context that action can be taken and limits the designers ability to make puzzles and challanges using it.

In TF2 the engineer is able to build, upgrade and repair his buildings by just hitting them with his melee weapon. This allows him to dynamically switch between working on his buildings and attack enemies without getting stuck in repairing animations. This is in stark contrast to overwatches uprising event where reviving a teammate required a player to enter a reviving animation leaving them unable to defend themselves. This was changed in the storm rising event where a player only had to stand close to their allies to revive them.

Also the medic originally was supposed to heal teammates by hitting them with a syringe melee weapon. This was deemed to cumbersome so it was changed to the medi beam we know today.

Even if an action is already dynamic, making it more dynamic may be warranted for fast paced games.

#game design #tomb raider #tloz #zelda #tf2 #overwatch

[thenurseisinthehouse]

PYRO AND SNIPER IN DON'T STARVE TOGETHER BABEYY

sniper was @justpyrothings and i was pyro

#tf2 #tf2 sniper #tf2 pyro #don't starve together #perhaps bushfire #bushfire #it burns when i pee #LMFAOOO #flaming arrows #team fortress 2 #sniperpyro

[initiatingtheheadcanons]

4, 9, 10 and 18 for flaming arrows?(sniper/pyro)

Flaming Arrows here we go! From the ship meme.

4) who swears more?

Sniper. Pyro glares at him and he still cusses under his breath.

9) who finds stray animals and begs the other to let them keep them?

Pyro. They give Sniper puppy eyes and it works like a charm.

10) who usually makes dinner?

Pyro is great at cooking meals and Sniper sometimes suggests recipes his parents sent him because he can’t do them himself

18) who finds it impossible to stay angry at the other for long?

I would say Sniper who finds it impossible to stay angry at Pyro. He would grumble his apology to them since the firebug is somewhat stubborn when it comes to this kind of things they hug Sniper anyway after he apologized

#tf2 #team fortress #sniper x pyro #ship meme #flaming arrows #necropolitan-fairy

[medics-secret-shipfic-folder]

C-could we maybe please get some Flaming Arrows? Sniper x Pyro (also wow snipes is popular and your art is adorable)

Here ya go!

And thank you!

(Click for better resolution)

#anonymous #team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 sniper #tf2 pyro #sniperxpyro #my art #flaming arrows #old art

[tf2workbench]

What is gamesense?

I’m pretty sure it’s a company now, but in this case I mean “gamesense” with a lowercase g. Everyone has it to some degree - everyone, in every multiplayer game. Not just in TF2! Any video game, any tabletop game, any physical game. I have gamesense in TF2, but also in chess or in soccer. You might have heard of “reads” in fighting games - that’s gamesense.

This is, however, a Team Fortress 2 blog.

Put simply, gamesense is the ability to predict your opponent’s decisions. It can be as simple as looking at your opponent and getting the gut instinct that they’re going to move toward you. Most people can predict that.

Advanced gamesense, however, develops only when you know the mechanics of the game very well. It’s a lot easier to read other players when you’re not trying to remember which keys to press, after all. It’s also hard to read, say, an incoming Soldier if you have no idea what his weapons do.

Here are a few examples of gamesense in varying forms:

You see an enemy Soldier who’s holding a Rocket Jumper with the Mantreads on his feet. You guess that he’ll have the Market Gardener as his melee weapon and will attempt to bomb in to crit you with it. You enter a building and kill him when he lands outside.

You build your Dispenser and place it just behind a wall, close enough to the edge that your teammates can easily reach it. You realize that a Demoman could place his stickies just beside it to blow it up. You move it a little further in, forcing your hypothetical foe to advance further to get the right angle.

You (a Pyro) round a corner and see a Sniper wielding the Huntsman. He sees you. You instinctively airblast, reflecting his arrow and scoring a headshot kill.

You're chasing a Spy and see him go off a cliff. You know that the ledge below has a health pack. You move to the other side of the ledge, intercepting and killing him before he can escape.

You’re fighting a Scout with your rocket launcher and have him heavily damaged. He stops dodging and runs in a straight line toward a nearby health pack. You fire a rocket at the health pack, killing him in the explosion.

Those are all examples of you reading the opponent’s mind, or at least predicting their movements.

Now, how can you develop gamesense?

It comes from experience. You’ll pick it up as you go along. Once you run for enough health packs, you’ll know what other people will do when they run for health packs.

This is not a satisfying answer, I know. But remember to commend yourself when you use it, even in the smallest ways. Thinking about your opponent - that leads to gamesense. Try picking one opponent (even from spectator mode) and guessing what they’ll do.

Gamesense is, in a way, a kind of empathy. You develop it from playing in the shoes of the person you want to read. As a class-specific example, I am a good Engineer because I also main Demoman - I know where Demomen can and can’t shoot me from, because I have done the same thing to opposing Engineers. If you play a lot of Spy, you’ll start to learn which corners to puff flames at as Pyro.

It requires practice, even unconscious practice. But you’ll get there. Remember, every time you find yourself thinking about what the enemy will do - on a small or large scale - you’re developing your gamesense.

#tf2workbench #tf2 #team fortress 2 #gamesense

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Commission for @frostedturquoise

Fandom: TF2      Pairing: Soldier/Sniper

Request: Fantasy AU

Concept: Ranger!Sniper/Sorcerer’s Apprentice!Soldier

Title: It’s Free Real Estate

With what can only be called an horrendous squeal, the giant creature lunged towards the human that assailed it; humongous gore-spattered tusks gleaming in the sunlight as it bore down with lethal intent. Enraged by the arrows dotting its flesh, the house-sized Titan Boar paid no heed to obstacles, smashing through tree trunks without seeming to notice and gaining ground with every passing second.

Yet still the lanky man stood his ground, perhaps foolishly attempting bravery against such a vicious creature, or more likely he was rooted to the spot in fear. Though, a third option yet remained, which became apparent as the Titan Boar suddenly crashed through the forest floor and skewered itself upon the sharpened stakes littering the bottom. It had all been part of the plan.

With swift efficiency, the Ranger strode towards the pit, took aim with his bow and sunk a hefty arrow straight through the rage-filled eye closest him, placing the creature out of its misery. Not to mention, out of everyone else’s too, given how its rampage had knocked several villages and citizens flat over the past week and a half.

Assured that the animal was indeed deceased, the Ranger jumped down to land atop its carcass, ignoring the loud squishing sound as his impact forced the body further down onto the impaling spikes. Upon closer inspection it was immediately apparent that this poor bloody thing had been a normal wild pig before all this mess, clearly someone had been experimenting their magical bullshit on animals. At least, judging by the runes he could see carved into the sides of it’s flanks by something arcane and definitely illegal.

He gave the carcass a pat, sorry to have had to do his duty to something that hadn’t really deserved it. “I’ll get the bastard who did this to you, put an arrow in his throat just for you, hey mate?” he assured, turning to begin scaling the side of the pit.

As he hauled his frame over the edge, rising to stand beside it, he pulled out a match and held his hat over his heart in a gesture of respect. “Hope you’re somewhere better than this mess, mate.” he says solemnly, before striking a small flame and tossing it atop the body.

Looks like he had a shittonne of paperwork to do, and someone to go turn into a magical shishkabob.

                                                        ~)0(~

Early that morning a messenger scroll had been delivered via the portal mail service for Merasmus, some urgent council matter that required several of the more experienced sorcerers out there to attend immediately. When questioned, his mentor had merely waved him off and mumbled something about illicit arcane animal experimentation that had to be dealt with.

He left with a suitcase, the bombinomicon, and strict warnings not to summon any demons for a party; leaving his apprentice, one Jane ‘Soldier’ Doe, all alone in the large, dank castle. What could possibly go wrong? Given Soldier’s penchant for absolute, generally accidental, chaos… pretty much anything and everything.

By the time dinner rolled around, Soldier had grown bored of training, reading, playing hide and seek with the ghosts, casting light spells in various colours and even flying on his broomstick. The place just felt emptier without someone else existing in it on a physical plane of existence; many of the ghosts had intriguing and varied personalities, and tried their best to cheer him up, but it wasn’t quite the same.

And that’s when he heard the scream.

Loud, surprisingly close-by, and hoarse. The short cry was accompanied by a series of equally audible profanities, threats and questions about their assailant’s parentage; but most importantly, from Jane’s perspective, it sounded like a call to adventure.

Soldier readjusted his helmet, grabbed the broomstick and ran for the front door with an eager spring to his step. Only to fling it wide open just in time to collide head-on with a rather battered looking man standing before it, hand raised to knock and attire rumpled almost beyond repair.

“Crikey!” came the startled shout of the lanky Ranger, as a hulking wall of magical muscle slammed into him headon. The pair tumbled haphazardly down the front stairs in a tangle of limbs, broomsticks and profanities; thudding to the ground in a halo of dust, which arose to choke what little air the winded men could inhale.

Quick as a whip, the lanky bloke shoves at Soldier, mouthing moving with words he didn’t quite have a deep enough breath to impart just yet; eyes wide behind his goggles, conveying the urgency that he couldn’t say. Somewhere along the treeline of the surrounding forest sounded an inhuman roar, the volume so ear-shattering it shook the ground and startled nesting ravens from the trees. A great cacophony of crashes echoed in the deafening silence that followed, as many a giant treetrunk shrieked in protest before toppling over under the onslaught of some gargantuan creature…

“In-...de…” the man wheezed out, coughed and tried again. “Inside, mate!” he said more coherently this time, smacking a hand on Soldier’s chest to illustrate his urgency, and scrambling upright. Swiftly following suit, Soldier shoved himself to his feet, and pushed up the brim of his helmet to scan the treeline for any sign of whatever made that noise.

The ground trembled a warning as their foe slowly came into view, fuzzy ears only just surpassing the treetops before the rest of the creature emerged, eyes red and enraged by what could only be arcane magic. Or potentially, just a megabunny having a really, really bad day. But considering the combined general luck of both men present, it was more likely the former, than the latter.

Not to mention the runes carved into the animal. Dead giveaway. Some black magic bullshit was going on here.

Soldier sneezed, and then again as the towering megabunny stomped ever closer to the castle, not yet having seen them in particular, but normally adorable nose currently twitching, desperately chasing the scent of-... oh. Blinking, and gaining a good concept of the situation in a split-second, Jane grabs the other man around the torso and bodily hurls them both through the open doorway. Broomstick zooming in behind, slamming the door shut and flicking its whiskers at the lock to engage the cloaking charms.

He gave it a pat, fondly, and turned to the newcomer. Given the clothing, he was one of the forest-loving types… but the lack of pointy ears said he wasn’t an elf, which was good, because Merasmus’s lessons hadn’t yet covered Elf First Aid. Jane was still studying healing potives for Centaurs… you wouldn’t believe how many crazy curses, hexes and diseases those half-horse nudist hippies could attract, or just how annoyingly difficult they were to diagnose and treat.

His nose twitched again, and he absently rubbed it on a sleeve, and nearly jumped out of his skin when the other man spoke. He might have forgotten the other existed for just a moment there, in light of his frustratingly flaring allergies.

“Thanks mate… that thing literally caught me with my pants down… nothing like taking on a ten-foot murderous megarabbit with your dacks ‘round your ankles.” Said the other, a wry grin forming over a slowly swelling face; bruises blooming on exposed skin, and blood trickling morbidly down his long features. “Name’s Mundy, m’one of the Rangers stationed down near that Forbidden Forest place, you know the one travellers and dumb teenagers keep going into and not returning from? All sorts of crazy shit in there, but it’s not all that hard to deal with, just your standard arachnid infestations or the odd rabid werewolf and the like…”

For the first time in his life, Soldier wasn’t able to get a word in edgewise, so he let the Ranger ramble on as he directed him to a chair. The slight slur to the speech, the unfocused gaze, and what was clearly a supernatural asskicking… it all seemed to ring a bell in the Apprentice’s memory; sure healing wasn’t a huge component of sorcery unless you wanted to specialise, but Merasmus liked to cover all the basics. Humans, at least, tended not all that difficult to treat… unless they were the stubborn type, like Mundy was shaping up to be.

“...and that’s why I got the call to come up here and see which snotnosed little blighter is going ‘round enchanting your everyday woodland beasts into… things like the big bunny. And the boar, and maybe that one really cranky weasel that stole my undies while I was taking a dip last night… looked bigger than it should have been.” The Ranger finished his spiel, shrugged off Soldier, and rose to stagger somewhat ungracefully towards the door.  “Anyway, thanks for the hospitality and all, but I gotta go deal with that before it finds out I’m holed up in here… or gets bored and goes wandering for… some other… kinda fun…”

Soldier barely has a chance to lurch forwards and catch him, as the Ranger seems to drop like a stone mid-stride and sentence. Dead to the world and oblivious to impending danger as Jane sweeps the lanky monster-wrangler into his arms, and whisks him away to somewhere a bit safer. Pausing only to throw a waring glance over his shoulder at broomstick, as he whispers sternly, “Don’t tell Merasmus…”

~)0(~

“...and I’m telling you, mate, it’s fine!” sighs the exasperated Ranger Mundy, for what had to be the sixth time in the past hour. It wasn’t that he didn’t mind the concern behind the questioning, but it was a tad hard to stealthily shift through the shadows when a loud, far-too-enthusiastic sorcerer’s apprentice kept asking you if you were feeling alright.

He clenches his fists, takes a deep breath, and exhales to a count of ten. Can’t do any good getting snippy with the bloke who saved his arse the other day, especially when Jane only wanted to make sure he was doing alright. Sure, maybe Mundy was fudging the truth around the edges a tad, but he had a bloody job to do; and every second he laid about being pampered like some fainting dandy of the royal court, people’s lives and livelihoods were at risk.

Bit disorienting, really, waking up when you couldn’t recall going to sleep. He’d awoken with a shock, hand automatically reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there, and feeling more than a tad off-kilter at finding himself tucked carefully into a bed that most definitely wasn’t his own. Various bits ached, stung and throbbed in a discordant cacophony, some abating or growing sharper as he moved; Mundy had wriggled a bit, just to be sure this wasn’t simply the fall-out from a rather vigorous night before.

He eventually concluded that no, this was definitely the result of being trounced by something or other; getting smacked about tended to leave an impression on the mind and body alike. Still, the night before was a hazy mess… which was unusual. Mundy usually had a mind like a steel trap, but for some reason he just couldn’t picture who, or more likely what, had punched his ticket hard enough to leave him… covered in bandages?

Too neat for his usual patchjobs, must have been someone else. At least they’d left him his undergarments, and therefore his dignity… not that he must have much of that left, if he was in such rough shape. The answer of who, and why, came crashing through the door with a vibrantly enthusiastic ‘Good Morning!’ and a tray of various breakfast-like items.

Jane, or Soldier as he preferred to be called, had taken his sudden intrusion last night in stride. Simply just locking the door to the cursed creature outside, and dragged Mundy’s deadweight off to the apprentice’s own room to deal with the mess he’d made of himself. Soldier told him all this proudly, excitedly; it was almost endearing, even for someone who tended to prefer silence and solitude over socialisation. Jane just seemed to exude a chaotic sensation of life at its most vibrant; which was why Mundy had found himself attentive to the tale of how Soldier had treated him last night, whilst nibbling on any unburnt foodish offerings provided.

Turns out, the helmet-clad bloke had stripped off the ragged remains of his travelling cloak, tunic, breeches, boots and hat; sending them off with what Soldier described as animated household items for washing and repair. Mundy didn’t really know how to feel about that, but nodded to encourage the other bloke to keep talking. Well, the sorcerer’s apprentice realised how damaged the Ranger actually was, he set about just about marinating Mundy in as many salves, potives, poltices and spell-infused bandages one could possibly get their hands on at short notice.

Seemed to work a treat, because most of the swelling and inflammation was down; not to mention he was pretty sure the myriad of talon and tooth marks had faded to little more than scars at this point. Mundy made sure to thank the guy, and they idled in conversation until his clothes were returned; mended and free from blood and grime.  

There had been an argument.

Soldier was adamant that Mundy should stay, wait for some guy called Merasmus to come back, before they went about knocking giant rabbit heads in; spend a bit more time taking a nap, at least until Mundy could raise his arms without wincing. Which was all well and good, but every minute he waited, that damn creature and the idiot who made it could be wreaking havoc on innocent people. He had to get out there…

Which was how they’d ended up with a compromise. By which it could be said that Soldier managed to pester Mundy into a verbal corner, and the Ranger had agreed to take Jane with him just to expediate the process. He wasn’t completely adverse to having a muscle-clad magic-wielder as his back-up, you almost couldn’t pay for better unless you went with premium Paladin Escort Package; and that lot were far too self-important to shadow a Ranger, no matter how much coin he flashed.

If Jane could just stop asking if he was doing alright, if he needed to rest, if maybe he’d like a quick refresher of some pain-removal potive or healing spell… this would be a lot less frustrating. Mundy began to suspect the other man was simply casting the spells he offered anyway, because discomfort always seemed to decrease after the Ranger declined… though he couldn’t be sure. Perhaps it was simply the company that soothed him.

Soldier was a strange bloke, but he had a good heart; lot of funny, if a bit crude, stories about bizarre situations he’d gotten himself into and then out of. Nice eyes, build like one of those gods of war that the armies were always praying to, and an enthusiastic, if sometimes overbearing, personality. Must be a right hit with the ladies, or gents, or whatever he fancied.

He had a funny feeling that he knew why Soldier’s company seemed so enthralling, but Mundy sure as hellfire wasn’t going to admit it even to himself. He was too bloody old for all that nonsense anyway; well, for those in his profession anyway, you didn’t last very long out in the wilds but at least the pay was good. And the only boring aspect was the paperwork when you were cashing in a bounty or sending a warning on to some committee or other about a rogue so-and-so of their order.

Mundy jerked as a large, warm hand pressed against his spine; fingers twitching as he fought the instinctual urge to go for a weapon, mentally telling himself it was just his companion. Soldier must have noticed, because the pressure eased off; but the tingling sensation remained a few seconds more… confirming the Ranger’s suspicions about what the other was up to. He chose to ignore it for now, simply continuing to slide through the dappled shadows of the trees with the practiced ease of one who had spent their life doing exactly this. Followed, not quite so silently, by the solid form of Soldier, who did his very best to be quiet; but ultimately left Mundy wishing the man had brought broomstick, which would have alleviated the sound of his footfalls crunching through the leaf matter strewn about.

“My campsite’s around here somewhere,” he hisses, keeping his voice low as they started to notice gargantuan bunny footprints filling the area, tracks criss-crossing over one another. Clearly, it was still hanging around where it could find the strongest concentration of the Ranger’s scent, seeking revenge for the wounds he had inflicted the night previous. It was a wily little bugger, they’d have to be careful; you should never underestimate something just ‘cause it has a cute fluffy tail… a bad run-in with satyrs’d tech just about anyone that.

His eyes scan the forest, noting small nicks and sigils he’d left on the trees leading to his hideout, gesturing for Jane to follow along behind as quietly as he could. The unlikely duo crept through low-set brush and towering treetrunks, winding their way towards a well-hidden rope ladder hiding in the shadows. Checking that nothing stirred in the area, he began to climb; and after a moment, felt the slight jerk of Soldier also ascending behind him.

Higher and higher they rose, clambering up amidst the uppermost branches, where an impressive platform awaited. Boards expertly nestled between, and secured to the thickest branches in an interweaving pattern; the kind of temporary shelter one built when needing an extended stay somewhere that lowering one’s guard on the ground could be fatal. Small bags were littered here and there, as were weapons and a sleeping roll; Mundy took comfort in realising that nothing had been discovered or disturbed in his absence.

He dragged the sleeping roll toward the treetrunk, and then sank upon it, pressing his spine against the reassuring solidity of the living wood. Mundy always felt more at ease when he was like this, with nature thrumming all around him and no immediate threat to deal with.

Boards creaked as Jane carefully tiptoed across to join him, seeming uncertain at such a height; or perhaps the bloke was afraid that something built to facilitate someone Mundy’s size, would never bear his weight. Still, nice of the guy to try. Soldier made it all the way over and sat beside the Ranger, attempting to maintain his upbeat attitude despite worrying glances at the platform.

“It’ll hold.” Mundy reassured, reaching into a bag and yanking out some sort of fruit. HE began to peel strips off it, biting tentatively to test if it wasn’t overripe yet, and then offering some to his… well, Jane was sort of a guest now, wasn’t he?  Soldier took it, and nibbled appreciatively, as they settled in.

And now, it was a waiting game.

                                                         ~)0(~

Soldier sneezed for the second time, nudging Mundy out of his doze with a jolt of adrenaline.

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep.

Reacting instinctively, the Ranger grabbed his bow and arrows as a twinge of memory flared from the night before; carefully stretching himself out so as to peer over the platform’s edge and into the lightening world. No birds chirped greetings to the dawn sun, and nothing scurried below despite the ever-present tell-tale leaf matter. Clearly a sign that something ominous, predatory and dangerous lurked nearby; keeping creatures silent, wary, and afraid to leave their dens for fear of being caught.

Warmth flushed along his left side as Soldier laid down beside him, warding off some of the early morning chill as they waited; neither speaking, straining to hear the slightest sound. Though instead, it came first as a sensation… strong vibrations that shook the leaves on their branches; growing in magnitude with every second that passed until it felt as if each footstep was a thunderclap intent on shaking loose their bodies, cell by cell.

Mundy picked out the tips of enormous fluffy ears by the time they could hear the creature’s every movement, path clearly veering towards their hidden location. Tracking their scent, though not quite well enough to pinpoint them; although that was somewhat due to a certain countermeasure the Ranger used. See, when you gotta go, in a tree, there’s an obvious solution… if you want every slavvering supernatural creature with a hankering for human flesh clawing their way up to your tree. An ancient ranger trick they tended to teach in basic training was to store up your urine and carefully splash it haphazardly throughout the forest if you really needed to give something the slip.

A tad gross? Perhaps. Kept Mundy alive more times than he could count. Had creatures circling back on themselves all over the place, in the past. Even now it had the megabunny so turned around it couldn’t even work out which direction to sniff right.

Just the way he liked ‘em.

Sliding an arrow of blessing, or whatever fancy title those monks’d given it after dunking it in some sort of godwater, from his quiver and aligning it upon his bow, Mundy tracked the creature’s every twitch. Mentally noting the trajectory and factors that might need to be compensated for, such as windspeed and the target’s current travelling velocity…

Shot through the eye’d do it, but not from this angle. Wouldn’t kill it outright, and he wasn’t one to leave something suffering if he could help it… no, he needed… a distraction. The Ranger’s head snapped towards the enthralled Soldier, who started to find himself being stared at, opening his mouth to question what was wrong… when he sneezed violently instead, responding to the increasing levels of dark, arcane magic in the air.

Mundy saw the megarabbit’s head snap up and stare right at them, meeting him eye to eye. “Yeah,” he mumbled, drawing back the bowstring, “That’ll do.”

He loosed the enchanted missile.

                                                    ~)0(~

The hardest part of the whole operation seemed to be guiding Soldier down the ladder, as he wouldn’t look down. It was bizarre, because he’d seen the bloke whizzing about on his broomstick before, far higher than this and hadn’t assumed Jane would have a hang up about heights.  Still, they made good time back through the forest, or so it seemed; perhaps the mood was just a tad lighter now that the creature was finally deceased.

“...find the wanker behind all this and deal with him. Suppose that’s really a wizarding council’s jurisdiction or something, I’m just the guy they send in to take out the shambling horrors  they unleash on the world.” Mundy said, feeling oddly at ease as they traipsed through the trees, as  close as a duo could be given the dense foliage. He tried to tell himself it was a job well done, but… nah, who could pretend any longer? It was Jane.

Not that he was head over heels or anything, no, just… felt like maybe there could be something there, if there was time to get to know one another better. His internal monologue was cut short by the man himself, who touched his shoulder to gain the Ranger’s attention.

“Mundy?” there was a query in the tone.

“Yes mate?” he replied, wondering what kind of flower or butterfly or poisonous demondog the guy’d seen this time.

“Would you say the person behind the big bunny would be using dark magic? Maybe about your height, red hair, green eyes, little nose and a big black cloak?” Jane asks, and it almost causes Mundy to miss a step. He raises an eyebrow, turning to look at Soldier.

“Dunno exactly, they didn’t give a description… what makes you ask?”

Jane pointed. “Because he is standing over there right now, enchanting a raccoon to large proportions…”

“He-... wait, what?” Mundy started, swiftly pivoting on his heel to follow Soldier’s gaze, and discovered the exact scene Jane had detailed. Bugger, his bow caught on his pack as he tried to yank it off in a hurry, and the ruckus they’d caused had caught the sneaky spellcaster’s attention. Their peaky face flashed briefly towards the pair, before they whirled about and attempted to flee; dark cloak flapping about them as they slipped into the shadows.

Mundy swore, loudly, but Soldier was already raising a hand and yelling something. A flare of bright light seemed to rush across the distance between them, twisting and twining about the limbs of the fleeing darkmancer; ensnaring him fast about the legs so he couldn’t escape.

With a small huff of triumph, the Ranger’s freed bow notches the very same blessed arrow he had retrieved from the megabunny’s corpse, and took aim.

“N-no, please, it was just a little fun! They’re only animals! Stupid, unthinking animals!” jibbered the ranga, not so high and mighty now he’d been caught and cornered. “They don’t even feel pain! And what’s a f-few dead nobodies when y-you’re advancing magical kn-knowledge?!”

The Ranger nudged the darkmancer with his boot, flipping the rogue sorcerer flat upon his back; cocking his head as he took careful aim, pulling the bowstring taut. “Yeah nah, mate… me’n’my mate here, real animal lovers. And you? Turns out your the bastard hurting them. If you believe in any gods, might wanna say a few words to ‘em now.” he growled, tone low and menacing. The arrow lurched forwards and pinned the darkmancer’s skull to the ground, as Mundy grinned. “Cause you might be meeting ‘em soon.”

There was a faint flush on Jane’s cheeks as he turned away from the corpse to face the sorcerer’s apprentice; and for a moment he thought it was horror, at what the Ranger had done. Though the sudden crash of lips against his own was, perhaps, the greater surprise still… or so Mundy thought, right up until something wriggled between them.

Pulling away, suddenly aware of just how much he’d love to do that again, the Ranger blinked down to see a large infant racoon in Soldier’s arms. Delightedly shredding the other man’s jacket, while he cooed down at it.

“Er, before I ask about the racoon, what was the uh… you know, about?” Mundy had to ask, he was a tad confused about how things had even gotten to that point, to be honest.

“Commander of my heart’s battalion, when I heard your voice I was unable to remain at attention… and will need to be disciplined back into line later after this mission is completed.” Jane grinned, unabashedly, blue eyes sparkling where they met Mundy’s, from under his helmet. “And as for Lieutenant Bites, I have made the tactical decision to add him to my platoon… he needs guidance to become a good soldier.”

Mundy quirks an eyebrow, lets the silence linger a moment, then shrugs.

“Works for me, mate. Let’s get back to that castle of yours, see about this… discipline problem you got going. Reckon I can find a good solution to it…”

Jane snaps a smart salute, not even pretending to hide his enthusiasm. “Yes sir!”

                                                      ~)0(~

By the time Merasmus arrived home, he was utterly in shock at how chaotically bizarre the castle had become in his absence.

To begin with, there was the lanky Ranger who cheerfully greeted the sorcerer as he made his way inside; the man seemingly wearing a towel, a hat and little else besides as he took breakfast with a honey-and-skyclad Soldier.  Not even to mention what appeared to be a rather large baby racoon seated within a hastily constructed highchair; occasionally being spoon-fed by the broomstick; upon which the spoon had been tied.

There was an exceptionally large, fluffy rug now sumptuously draped across the floor that everyone present was pointedly Not Looking At; and what seemed to be a suspiciously familiar corpse lashed to a spare chair in the corner. Squinting at it revealed it was, indeed, the exact rogue darkmancer he’d been summoned all the way to the high council’s chambers to help track down…

Tired from his travels, and deciding he would rather deal with all of this mess after a nice miniature coma, Merasmus merely wished them good morning and levitated up the stairs to bed. Leaving the two men, and their bizarre furry son, to finish their meal in peace.

----------

The End

#frostedturquoise #tf2 #fanfic commission #soldier/sniper #fantasy au

[discardedmilkywaywrapperwrites]

Return to TuFort

Activating Halloween Mode was, looking back on it, a very strange and especially stupid idea. The fact that it wasn't even a full moon, and was also the middle of July, did not give TF2 spy player and steam account name "staricipant" a large amount of confidence when the vote was originally brought up a few moments ago. The vote count then jumped to 99 votes in favor, which was about... participant slides to the side as a blast of appropriately named magic rushes right by their head. 99-24, that's seventy five votes more then were on the server. And of course, Merasmus guffawed as he announced the event.

staricipant, firing and hitting a revolver shot on the damned wizard, regrets having decided that it was simply a unique update, a reward several years lacking in the past. Now they knew it was false, of course, and if they made it out alive they'd have to write up the event and post it onto a creepypasta site. Still, the idea that TF2 was being updated again would be the more unbelievable part of the tale. There's a texan yell as an engineer, (staricipant stopped paying attention to team colors about a minute and a half ago), gets transformed into a chicken and his level two sentry transforms into bird feed.

The soldier begins taking a few steps back and the pyro muffles something that staricipant takes to mean "distract the wannabe wizard". staricipant whips out their watch, a trusty strange dead ringer that doesn't seem like such a waste of cash now with their life on the line, and then charges the wizard. Merasmus says something unintelligible, and then a greenish purplish blueish redish yellowish bolt with a few other colors mixed in that comes out to a shade of grey shoots out of his staff. Closing their eyes, staricipant *really* hopes this is less painful then it looks.

---

There is a computer, with no one nearby. The steam menu is up, and although it says that TF2 is currently running, the application is not up. It's quite fortunate no one was around, at least currently. The computer shorts out, the monitor going dark and the keyboard completely unrelated popping off the two 0 keys. The screen flickers back to life, with a new distinction.

A warping effect makes it hard to read, and a monochromatic filter does not help either, but it almost seems as if the steam library has folded in on itself. If you were there, which you aren't, you could squint, and you might be able to make out some mixed names. "Fist Full of Overlords", "Darkest Mania", "Portal to Monkey Island"...

"Return of the Team Fortress" is currently running, the steam menu says, but the application is not up.

---

staricipant wakes up, face down on hard flooring. A glance around solicits a groan from the beleaguered spy main. This wasn't some bizarre dream coming from too much playing of violent video games? No, this was good old RED spawn room, alright. They quickly check their armory, still not understanding now that they've fallen into the spy's shoes how they holster a revolver without a visible holster. The sapper, the knife, the strange dead ringer...

Opening the Spytron 3000 Disguise Kit raises an alarm, however. The cigarettes removed, in their place, a second screen. In fact, the regular screen does not display the options of disguises, but a team roster in their place. Confused, staricipant taps on the new screen. The player-list is all there, all 24 of the poor sods who decided it was a bright idea to play Tufort today. Unless this sort of thing happened on other servers...

Not a good thought. staricipant scans over the player list. Twelve on each side, all of them greyed out, even their own username. Instead of having the pings of each player, there is simply grey text saying "unknown". How strange. staricipant exits the new screen and returns to the old one. It does not seem like they can disguise, but they test it anyway, tapping on the Heavy Weapons Guy. It zooms in on his face, and a piece of text appears next to the icon. "[?], a Red Heavy, [?]". How helpful. What does any of this do or even just mean?

staricipant gives up, closing the disguise kit and pocketing it. Revolver out, although they're not sure how much good it'd do if Merasmus or any of those other beasts came back. The spy opens up the resupply cabinet, pulling out a few small med-kits and pocketing them, and then leaves the spawn room. Sure, it'd be faster to jump down off the balcony, but staricipant wasn't that confident in game mechanics to risk an injury. Better take the stairs, just in case.

It's still a relatively short walk to the bridge between the forts, and staricipant is glad they didn't pick soldier or heavy when this started, seeing how slow the two walk. staricipant's walking speed itself comes to a halt as they stare down at the charred corpse of a scout. They recognize them, of course, they're... staricipant's virtual eyes widen in worry. What happened? No, they're a scout, obviously, but what was their username?

The spy closes their eyes. They remember... well, their life before a madman wizard who may or may not even be real sucked them into the hit FPS, and they remember getting shot by that wizard and waking up here, but... what happened between those points? They knew they checked the list before, and they were here for the fights... where did they even fight Merasmus? This bridge? The intel room, and if so, which one? Was it outdoors or indoors? They never had memory problems before, and certainly none like this. staricipant feels more like a ghost then a real person right now, and they aren't technically wrong.

As they step around the poor scout, their pocket vibrates. staricipant takes a step away, and it stops.  A step back, and it vibrates. staricipant decides not to stick around and continues on into the BLU fortress- the doorways are barricaded. Resupply cabinets and tables block unwanted access. Counterintuitively, this gives staricipant hope. "Bonjour?" An annoyed cough. That's what they get for possessing a frenchman. "Hello? Anyone in there?"

But it's as silent as a ghost town. Only the wind answers, and it's not a very understandable source of information. staricipant looks at their other options. Not being a soldier, or a demo, or even a pyro, there's no way they could get to the balcony from here. The sewers were an option, and not even an unfeasible one. Just... yes, staricipant realized how stupid it was as they berated themselves, they were a bit scared of water over head height. And the TF2 mercs didn't swim as much as spam the spacebar to quickly hop back out of the water. Jumping in was a no go, at least, and since time did not seem to be of the essence, the spy turned to enter the sewers from RED base.

They don't make it very far, though. In fact, they stop almost immediately, glaring down at the corpse of the scout that dares to make their pocket vibrate. Finally, they pull out whatever it is... it's their watch. A lovely gold, and a bronze shimmer floats over it occasionally. It cost about a dollar and ten cents trading refined for it, but it was worth it. staricipant flicks open their watch and this isn't their watch. It... it shows the time, inside. It has an hour hand and a minute hand. staricipant isn't an expert in watches, or even in non-digital clocks, but they'd hazard a guess and say the time is 1:30, although on day and night they would have no idea.

It is still vibrating. The Dead Ringer, as much as staricipant knows, does not normally... ring, let alone vibrate, but what do they know? Maybe this is a common reaction to corpses that the Spy knows of but isn't important to the player. A unique piece of lore, maybe? Something to update the wiki about. Could it stop shaking, though? It's going to fall out of their hands- and it does. staricipant, still getting used to wearing fine gloves, flubs their chance to catch it, and it falls, rattling, onto the dead scout's ankle. The world goes dark, and video game player staricipant gets a killer headache.

---

"Med down! Oh ey, you want some too?" "Try! You idiot, get back here!" "I can take'm oh god oh I am on FIRE help me hel-"

---

staricipant stares, dumbfounded, at the flaming corpse of the scout. The voices in their head seemed so lifelike, and yet everyone in this scene is as motionless as a statue. The scout, falling over, was attempting to flee a pyro down the bridge, as a sniper in the direction the scout was running pulls an arrow out of the quiver for their bow. A spy stands next to the sniper, whiffing a revolver shot on the pyro. staricipant realizes that something is very off.

They can see, but there's no color anymore. They can't even tell which team the scout is on, or the pyro, or the sniper, although they can guess the pyro isn't on this team's side. A glance behind the pyro shows the dead body of a medic, assumedly the cause of this "Med Down" call from the scout. There's no one else around, really. But the entrance to the BLU base is unblocked, now! A sneaky way around a problem, and staricipant didn't even need to get their shoes wet. They proudly march inside, and stare at a black void. They touch it, and it repels them like a trampoline. How helpful.

It also hurts their head, again. Great. They walk back outside, staring up at a white sun. Something vibrates in their pocket, and they check the watch in their hand. Wait, no, that's not it. This time, the disguise kit is to blame. staricipant flips it open, anger slowly creeping under the ski mask. What now? Both screens are empty, but when it's open, that quickly changes. The right-hand screen begins... typing.

[24 names met their fates here, in these fortresses.] [It is your solemn duty to put name to face, and face to fate.] [Accomplish this, and you shall be set free.] [Fail, and remain stuck.] [Good luck.]

"Good luck?" The spy snarls, anger having been replaced by rage. "I get trapped in some bizzaro TF2, and the message is GOOD LUCK?" The disguise kit is slapped closed and shoved violently in their pocket. staricipant sits down suddenly, grumbling. "Oh, isn't this just magnifique. Magnificent, damn it all to hell. Fine, I'll solve a stupid puzzle. Just so I can stop being french."

#obra dinn #team fortress #fanfic #crossover #video game