And now, for something completely different. Given the sheer number and variety of writefags, I thought it might be interesting to try a round robin story done by the writefags. A new writefag will pick up the pen after every choice, so beware of stylistic, story, and werll, quick and violent changes. ENJOY! ==========================================================================
You come slowly back to your senses. The last thing you remember is jumping off the edge of that building. You struggle to push yourself up, but something seems to be weighing you down. Trying again to move an arm falls down across your face. You almost scream when you realize that it’s a human’s arm and the person that it’s attached to seems to be quite dead.
“Ran, Make sure the vampires get this next shipment. I really don’t want to have to deal with Remilia complaining again.” You hear an unknown voice speaking.
“Of course, Mistress Yukari.” Another voice.
“HEY! HEY! I’M NOT DEAD YET!”
“D-did you hear something, mistress Yukari?” The second voice again.
“What?” That Yukari person again.
“One of the bodies said it’s not dead!” That Ran person.
“I’m NOT!” You shout again.
“Oh. Yes. They’re all dead.” Yukari again.
“Err. . . Are you sure mistress?”
Another arm falls on you. “I’m feeling much better! Really I am! Think I might go for a walk if you’d just get me out of here!”
“See? That one says it’s not dead!” This Ran person sounds quite exasperated.
“Oh, hold on.” Yukari sounds quite annoyed. A second later your field of vision is filled with an umbrella moving swiftly at your face. Moments later, darkness.
A short while later you awake in what appears to be a kitchen of some sort. It doesn’t look like there’s anyone around, though there does seem to be a great quantity of food cooking.
[ ] Call out for someone. [ ] Check out the food cooking. [ ] Don’t move. [ ] Escape from this place.
Remember, this is written by multiple people and anything is fair game. Certain canon or fanon you believe may not apply.
[ ] Escape from this place.
The large kitchen is dimly lit and gives an eerie feeling as heat and spices assault your senses. Maybe it’s just because you had just woken up in a pile of severed limbs, but something is definitely making you feel uncomfortable. At least most gore and bodies are gone, but a few still lay in the middle of the room.
Whatever the case, you don’t plan to stick around to be greeted by whoever your host is. Did she say “vampires?” No way, that’s impossible. There is no reason to stay in this bizarre place any longer! You’re going home!
Several large doors stand evenly on two walls, opposite of the cooking gear. Their broad wooden frames all look the same at first, but the closer you get to them you can tell that they are all engraved with different designs. Weird. Wasting no time, you run to the nearest door and pull it open.
Darkness. Pure and utter darkness fills the other side of the threshold. You’ve never really seen anything like it. It’s just a wall of…void. The light doesn’t even show the other side of the doorframe, as if a sheet of perfectly flat black fabric was draped over it. It’s like a pitch dark waterfall of ink.
Curious, you reach up to feel this phenomenon when a distant voice whispers through. Faint at first, it slowly becomes more and more audible. It sounds almost like a child. Like a little girl playfully skipping about and singing. The words become clearer.
"A drip a drop, A tip a top, Of skin, muscle, and bone.
Take it with haste, There’ll be no waste, Come wind or sun or stone.”
The voice changes. While still high pitched and playful, it distinctly sounds like many voices sharing the same words in perfect time.
“An arm, a leg, A cry, a beg, A delicious bag of meat.
I’ll play with it, But just a little bit, Before I wish to eat.”
And suddenly, the voices are right in front of you.
“Oh, fleshy, fleshy, fleshy flesh! It scampers to and fro. But in the night there is no sight. That went wherever I... did go!”
Several gnarled hands shoot out through the darkness. Razor sharp nails slice at your chest, ripping your shirt. With a surprised scream, you fall back and land on the floor. The arms slide forward, extending with sicken impossible length. Wildly you kick in fear at the distorted appendages. Luckily, your left foot catches the door, causing it to swing between you and your attackers. Frantically you shove the door closed as an inhuman scream of anger forces its way through, but is silenced as soon as the door shuts.
Sweating and gasping for air, you scramble to the middle of the room towards the remaining dead bodies before remembering they are there. Panic courses through your veins as you just sit on the floor and nearly hyperventilate.
After an eternity, you finally calm down. Whatever was on the other side of that door can’t come through, so you are safe for the moment.
[ ] Inspect yourself [ ] Inspect the kitchen. [ ] Inspect the doors. [ ] Inspect the room’s structure.
You decide to give yourself a once over. Those hands didn't do much to you, just some superficial scratches on your skin beneath the tears in your shirt. Nothing to be concerned about however, though it might raise questions when you escape. For now, you simply do up your labcoat to cover it. You continue your inspection, recovering your gloves from the coat pocket. Might as well put them on as well, the thick rubber should make it easier to move things around in this kitchen.
Speaking of the kitchen, you look around it as well. Aside from the walls of similar doors, there's very little decoration to it. Long, heavy wooden tables laden with pieces of meat and human body parts, along with several blades of various sizes and several other kitchen implements of various sizes, including a pair of vice grips mounted to a table, currently holding a large forearm in place. You take a step closer, realizing you recognize the clamped arm, it belonged to that big fellow, the man with the huge gun. You catch a gleam of metal on one of the tables nearby. Amid the many dull and rusting blades on the table, you find one in particular that really strikes a note with you: a bonesaw. You pick it up, it's weight quire familiar in your hand. This is more like it, you feel better now.
You hear voices, from where you can't be sure, but you're not going to take any chances. You slink towards a corner and crouch in the darkness. The voices draw closer, and one of the far doors swings open. You make a mental note of it, as it could be your escape. Two girls enter the room, and you feel your jaw drop slightly when you realize that they're flying. You've seen a lot of weird shit in your time as a 'medical professional' but this is something else entirely. Thankfully, the two winged girls don't seem to spot you as they fly into the room, carrying a bag between the both of them.
They drop the bag onto a table with a clunk and turn away. Now's your chance! You spring from the darkness and charge towards one of the flying girls, striking forth with the bonesaw. The blade easily tears through skin and bone as you run the serrated edge across her back, and she gives a single piercing scream before you rip the blade in the opposite direction, tearing the blade away as she drops from the air in a crumpled heap. The second girl turns to you with a shocked expression, and you give her a slash across the throat with the glistening blade. She gurgles forth blood as she flutters weakly before collapsing to the ground as well to bleed out.
You look back to the bag they carried in, and pull it open. Inside are several weapons you recognize, they belonged to some of your comrades. You're a little disappointed to not find your own weapons, but not one to waste a good opportunity, you pick up one of the shotguns and dig out several loose shells, pocketing them. You're not used to using such things, but it's better than nothing, and better than a bonesaw at the very least. You slide the bonesaw itself into another pocket as you hoist the shotgun and start towards the door, stopping only momentarily to look down at the still dying girl on the ground as she chokes on her own blood.
"Danke, dummkopfs." you say with a twisted grin. You head towards the door the two entered from and nudge it open with the shotgun, finding a large, dark, ornately furnished hallway beyond. It seems to stretch into darkness in both directions, and both walls are lined with multiple doors
 Go left  Go right  Try another door  Turn back and try another door
You head to your left, walking down the dimly lit hallway. What the hell is this place? You’d think there would at least be a few windows, maybe a potted plant or two, but there’s none of that. Only a scarlet carpet, scarlet walls, and...
...a little girl?
A little girl with disturbing iron bar-like wings, a few crystals hanging off of each one. She looks at your shotgun and smiles.
“Oh, would you like to play with me?”
She rises into the air, her wings flapping only for effect. What the hell? Perhaps this wasn’t the right way to go.
[ ] Use the shotgun. [ ] Jump into the air, use the bonesaw. [ ] Run past her. [ ] Run back from whence ye came.
Turning left might have been the biggest mistake of your life. Behind this small girl's smiling exterior lies something that makes your blood run cold. You fear for your life, but when faced with the form of the small girl in front of you, you can't bear to shoot.
"Well?" She presses you for a response, her red eyes meeting yours as she smiles playfully. "Do you want to play or not?"
"No!" You yell involuntarily in fear as you scramble backwards to get away. You stumble, falling to the floor. You won't let that stop you! You have to get away! You're more scared than you've ever been in your life!
But you can't get any further. She's grabbed you by the shoulder with immense strength like her shouldn't have. The shotgun clatters across the hallway in your fevered attempts to escape.
"Stop moving." Her voice suddenly sounds blank--empty, though incredibly commanding.
You stop in your tracks, allowing her to pick you off the ground. Her nails dig into your shoulder as your feet leave the ground. You grit your teeth as the pain shoots through your entire body.
"You're noisy. I don't want to play with obnoxious toys." Oh shit, you've pissed her off! She stares at you for a second longer out of curiosity before tossing you aside. You hit the floor with a loud thud, and pain courses throughout your body. The winged girl looms over you, angered.
"You're the scariest!" You cry out involuntarily, covering your head with your hands as she places her foot against your skull. She presses her foot harder and harder against your head, until the pain becomes unbearable. You scream as she tries to crush your skull.
Without warning, she stops. Her foot lifts off your head and she storms off down the hall.
"Bo~ring." You hear her yawn faintly.
[ ] Get away while she's not looking. [ ] Hug her, apologize. [ ] Sit there and take it. [ ] Kill her with the bonesaw.
This girl is dangerous, and if left alive will kill you later. There is no way around it. She has to be destroyed. With all your might, you dash down the hallway after the deadly monster in a child’s body. Your muscles burn in fatigue front sprinting by the time you reach her and swing the bonesaw. The metallic glint of the weapon shines as it passes though her neck.
Suddenly, the saw feels lighter. Quickly you hold it up for inspection, not thinking about the victim. Your hand burns in pain by the time you realize what happened. Only the handle remains, glowing red hot and sizzling. If not for the thick gloves, your digits would be been forfeit as well. This isn’t good. Instinctively you drop the tool and look to Flandre.
Glowing red orbs with pupils bore into your own. Prisms of colors pulsate angrily on thin wings behind the child sized vampire. The hallway fills with a horrible chemical smell.
This was a mistake.
This was a horrible mistake.
Flandre bares her pointed teeth and lunges at you. You helplessly throw your arms up for protection, but the blow never comes. Her body falls uselessly do the floor, head rolling a few feet away. In her place, stands a tall man in a dark cape and hat. His expression would be cold and blank, if not for the pain and determination shining from his eyes. Mechanically, he winds his whip back to reattach it to his belt and sheathes his sword. In one swift fluid motion he finishes and then reaches behind to pull out a small bag filled with red liquid, before tossing it to you.
“It’s dangerous to go alone. Take this.”
Without a moment to reply, the man leaps away and dashes to another corridor.
[ ] Run back to the kitchen, find a new weapon. [ ] Inspect Flandre’s body. [ ] Follow this mysterious man! [ ] Run for your life.
[x] Inspect Flandre’s body. [x] Take Flandre’s Head.
Who was that guy? You have a tingling sensation in the back of your skull, like you've seen him somewhere before, but you can't quite remember, a large black void in your memory. You turn over the bag he handed you. Looks like a bag of blood. You pocket it. Your bonesaw is ruined, and the girl lay dead in the hallway. That was close, thankfully he came along and saved you. You'd have died for sure.
You get up and walk over to the girls body, looking it over. The cut through the neck was a clean cut, almost too perfect. A small pool of thick blood has gathered around the severed stump. Despite having just been killed, the body already feels slightly cold. Well, not too surprising if she was a vampire of some sort, but it's still unnerving. You look around for the head, seeing it laying nearby.
You shuffle over in your croched position, poking at the head gingerly, as if you're expecting it to move. No, quite dead. You remember several old stories you've heard about dealing with vampires, most of them involved cutting off the head and boiling it in something. What if you have to do this to make sure she doesn't come back? You get a chill down your spine at the thought of her coming back. You decide to take the head, so you can try to find a way to boil it in vinegar at the very least.
At least, you would have. The second you lift the head from the ground, the eyes snap open and her mouth curls into a sickeningly malicious grin, bearing her fangs. Her lunatic stare feels like it pierces into your soul, the severed head looking excitedly into your eyes with a frantic hunger. She laughs at you, even though she is without a voice, her head shaking in your hands from the motion. Without any indication, the head lurches forward from your hands and digs her teeth into your face, fangs piercing your eyes and ripping the flesh on your face. You scream in pain and terror and step back, stumbling over something in the hallway. You turn desperately, trying to run away. You take only a few steps and crash into a door, a loud crack resounding as you burst through and hit the floor inside, screaming in terror again as you cup your hands over your eyes, trying to do anything to quell the bleeding and the pain.
Your sceams are cut off by a cold hand closing around your throat, choking the air from you. Only now do you hear the whispering around you, coming from all direction. Voices speaking in other languages, quiet, childlike laughter and faint songs drift through the darkness. You can't even see the horrors that surround you, but it doesn't take much for you to realize the situation when a dozen cold hands latch onto you, the voices growing closer and growing more hoarse and raspy as they do. You choke up a brief squawk of pain as several hands wrench your arm, breaking the shoulder joint and slowly tearing your arm from your body. The rest of the hands spring into action, pulling in different directions, breaking bones and joints and ripping flesh. The last thing you hear is the beheaded girls voice laughing from somewhere in front of you as you hear a door click shut.
You start down the hallway, keeping the shotgun trained in front of you. This hallway seems to be quite long. It’s impossible to know how long you’ve been walking down this windowless corridor before you come to a large double door. It seems quite heavy, and gives a dull resounding thud when you tap the barrel of the shotgun against it. Nearby there’s two handles which you presume open the door. A sharp tug on one of them confirms your suspicions as the door swings open far more easily than you’d expect. Inside there appears to be nothing but dark. It’s foolish to go inside, but something compels you to do so anyways.
You step through the door and find your self, suddenly, standing in the middle of the forest. Weren’t you just in a mansion? Turning around you find that the double doors have vanished behind you. It seems that it’s either some sort of trick, or you really are in the middle of the woods now. Far above you, the full moon, tinted reddish, casts everything in an eerie glow. It’s quite unnerving. From somewhere nearby you hear chanting.
[ ] Investigate chanting. [ ] Try to walk back through the doors that have vanished. [ ] Dance with the devil in the pale moonlight. [ ] Genuflect. [ ] Rumba.
-- What is that intoxicating beat? That chanting is enchanting! It sends ripples of excitement and passion through your very being, making you shake with desire. Whoever you are oh smooth voice siren, play on!
Before you even notice it you shoulders are already rolling in a fulid match to the voice, unbidden your hands raise and begin to join them in rebellion against your common sense. Fighting it you try to resist, but it's futile as soon your hips begin to twitch as they are annexed by your rebelious limbs. An unbarebly joyous urge to dance fills you making you want to vomit in objection, you're a doctor not a prancing dandy!
Staggering as you try to ignore the compulsion to Rumba your quivering legs step in time to the fiesty beat sending you leaping through the undergrowth towards the source of the singing voice. The steady beat of a drum joins the enthusiastic singing forcing your hands to match the new beat with rythmic clapping, muted by the rubber gloves.
You've never been so scared in your life.
Maybe you're delirous, but soon the music builds with the joining of fel castanets and a passionately played spanish guitar sending you into a flurry uncontrolable dance. Sweat pours off your brow as fear and dance tax your body to it's limit, in a moment of desperate clarity during a lull in the music you manage to rip off your lab coat and undershirt exposing your rippling chest to the night air, when the music kicks off twice as fast as before.
On and on the music pulls you on with seemingly no end in sight, bushes and trees tear at your flesh with their limbs leaving bloody scratches on your chest and face. Under the red moon and in the thrall of this evil rumba you begin to wonder if this time, you really shall die....
"CATALANA! Dios mio, a human!"
Just as you burst through another wicked bush you stumble into a light filled clearing when the music suddenly halts, released from the charming melody you fall to your knees and pant for breath.
Vaguley you're aware of people around you, but for now you try to recover your strength. One presence draws near to you, casting a shadow that stifles the light.
"Who's this who inttrupts our practice? T'aint supposed to be humies 'round these parts!" The speaker is definately female, but she's not the one who's currently looming over you. The shadow's owner remains silent and still.
"Hey, gringo! Where you from?" Another voice pipes up, different than the first and beyond the shadow's owner. Gulping down a hard swallow you look up and speak.
"I have no idea." Is all you manage to gasp out before the sight before you shocks you into silenece again. The clearing is bathed in the light of a thousand fireflies dancing merrily above illuminating the residents of this place and the players of that bewitching song. To one side a young man with green hair, the shortest short shorts you've ever seen and a cape is holding a pair of castanets uncertainly before him. To his right, sat upon a tree stump is presumably a relation of the young man's by the tell of her green hair, dressed in gingham and with motherly written all over her she holds a guitar like she knows how to use it. And standing, glaring at you, casting that shadow is another girl in a floppy brown dress with the silliest hat you've ever seen, taking a breath she stomps towards you yelling.
Here we have a problem. I would help continue this, but I seriously have no idea what the hell is even supposed to be going on, so the best I could do would be to completely ignore whatever is currently ongoing and take it in a whole new direction.
I felt like doing something interesting, so this. --- "Hey, how's it going?" my friend asked as he sat down in the chair and popped off the cap on his beer bottle. "It's going alright, I guess. Nothing good, nothing bad. How about you? Gotten bored of your weeaboo shit yet?" I ask as harshly as I can. Ever since he started watching anime and playing those Japanese shooting games, he's gotten a bit annoying to be around. "Nope! Someone updated that one multi-writefag CYOA that's been sitting for a while with no updates." He's using that stupid terminology again. If it weren't for him talking too much, I couldn't explain that "writefag" just means "writer" and "CYOA" means "choose your own adventure story." Like I said, he's gotten annoying to be around. "Before this update, it left off with the protagonist unintentionally dancing into a clearing where Wriggle and Yuka were making a musical performance." He speaks as if I know who the hell these people are. "They were pissed off at anon for interrupting their performance and began attacking him, but his body suddenly started moving on its own again, causing him to dodge all of their magical glowy light-orb attacks." God damn, this sounds fucking stupid. "But it didn't help any when Yuka decided to use Twin Spark. He got hit head-on. Luckily for him she decided to follow spellcard rules for whatever dumb reason." This is about when you usually start tuning him out. But you're bored, and even this is more entertaining than ignoring him and staring at a wall. "So he gets knocked back on his ass and is left with naught but minutes to choose a course of action with which to defend himself. This is why I brought it up, I want you to help me decide what to vote for. The options given were attacking with the shotgun, genuflecting, and burning the forest down in a fit of insanity." I stare at him for a moment trying to figure out if he's serious. Is he really fucking asking for your input on this? "Vote to kill yourself." I say sarcastically. "Holy shit, good idea!" he doesn't pick up on the sarcasm. I guess he's really an idiot. He gets up and leaves the room, presumably to go vote in this online faggotry of a multiplayer online fanfiction brainrape. I finish my beer and attempt to find things to kill him with, with little success. Later on, after the idiot goes home, I go back up to my computer room to find the page the votes were on. Out of passing boredom, I take a quick glance at the votes and find that enough people actually read it for there to be a majority vote. Looking at it, you find that the winning vote is:
[ ] Shotgun [ ] Genuflect [ ] Burn down the forest in a fit of insanity [ ] KILL YOURSELF LOL
Fuck this shit, this is crazy. This world is crazy, that mansion was crazy, this forest is crazy, this situation is crazy, these people are crazy, and most importantly, you're crazy. Nuts, bonkers, psycho, batty, cuckoo, loony, mad, off your rocker, out of your mind, completely and utterly insane. So of course, the most logical option is to burn the shit out of this forest.
You reach into your pocket and pull out your lighter. It's shaped like a shaped like a pistol, which is shaped like a flower. It shoots water, which naturally causes the grass it lands on to catch fire, only to spread for several metres in every direction and then burst into ice. You manage to put your keen observational skills to use and deduce that it has gotten colder. Colder since when, you don't know. You never bothered to stop and check how hot it was to begin with, but it's colder since before. Probably. You think.
"What the hell are you doing?" A new voice now. Spinning around you notice it coming from a blue-haired girl dressed in blue, flying in the air. It's kind of silly, but then, many silly things have happened to you since you got here. As she pulls herself down to the ground, her dress flutters up and you notice she's not wearing any panties. "Well, I'm trying to burn down the forest, of course." "I could tell that! Eye'm the smartest, after all! But why are you doing that?" Why is that such a contradiction? Why does she care? Why did you try to burn down the forest? Why isn't she wearing any panties? And most importantly, why do you imagine her saying "eye" when "I" has the same pronunciation?
[x] "Well, 'eye' had nothing better to do, but now that you're here, I can think of something more fun and interesting—something only a boy and a girl not wearing any panties can do. You understand what I mean right, being that you're the 'smartest' and all?"
“No no, es not dog mein silly fräulein. Es cat, like pussy.”
“Huh? I don’t get it. You’re weird.” The blue haired girl chides coldly.
This child…is quite dumb. Is she feigning ignorance or just really that innocent? It’s hard to tell. Regardless, she is FAR too old to be uninformed about such things, so it would be best to show her firsthand. You’re a good man, so it’s better to do this now than for her to suffer it from someone of questionable morals, right?
“I vill show you den. Do you know vhat a vagina es?”
“Va..vagOO-what? You’re making up words!”
“Nono, repeat afta me. VA-GI-NA.” You command like a med school professor to an incompetent undergrad.
“VA…GI…NA. Vagina. That’s a stupid word. What is it anyways?”
“Ah, come here un I vill show you, mein little fräulein. It es a very fun thing.
Hesitant but curious she steps forward, unaware of the danger of her situation. You don’t waste a second and slip your hand underneath her dress in mid stride. Azure eyes go wide as she cries out in surprise while you slide your finger between her soft we-
The girl’s face contorts in pain. The cold thing you were touching suddenly gives way and breaks, as if it were made of the thinnest sheet of ice. Tears begin the run down her horribly twisted face as it begins to splinter. The girl suddenly shatters into a million glistening fragments which shine like diamonds as they fall to the ground. Oh my, what a fragile girl.
A voice booms suddenly in your mind. Medic|DERP has earned the achievement Creepy Lolicon Medic|DERP has earned the achievement Ice To Meet You
ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: Medic Benchmark 1. NEW ITEM AQUIRED
And suddenly, floating in a pillar of light before you is perhaps the strangest yet most beautifully crafted gun you’ve ever seen. Your hands shake in excitement as you reach out and firmly grasp it. It looks so much like your old needle gun, but feels so very different. The smooth clean porcelain like texture is almost like silk upon your gloveless fingers. Your body tingles in the thrill of holding something new and powerful, as if it were a forbidden toy.
Unable to resist, you pull the trigger hard as your exhilaration reaches its climax. To your astonishment, it shoots out…
Only one man can save this tale. I am not than man. I am just someone with nothing better to do right now. And since this story is fair game…
[Portals] [Orgasms] [Sky] [A portal that spits out Kanako as she has an orgasm.] [Bears that shoot sharks with lightsaber nunchucks instead of teeth that shoot bees that leave welts that are oppai balls.] [Etc.]
…chaos. There’s no other word for it. Visions and figures stream out of the gun like demons rushing out of hell, the sheer volume and diversity of them paining your eyes to even look at, let alone contemplate. White puffy clouds swirling around in a tempest of light blue, like the sky itself liquefied. Growling brown bears, protecting smaller cubs. Sharks of all kinds: great whites, hammerheads, threshers, all emitting clusters of twirling rods affixed with chains, shining like glowsticks; the expensive kind, those good military-issue ones. Swarms of bees attacking everything in sight…the face of a blue-haired woman squealing in delight…tempestuous ovals of electric blue and carrot orange…
Your arm shakes uncontrollably. Not from the release of the gun; if anything it’s the easiest gun in the world to aim and fire. No, this is something different. This gun is heaven and hell, pain and pleasure, love and hate. You want to understand it, but you can’t. You want to smash it to bits, and then reassemble it and never let it leave your hands. This gun is everything, and nothing, and all that is in between.
Your hand slips; the gun falls from your grip, still issuing its impossible volleys of madness. It spins on the ground, clattering and flopping like a fish out of water. The cone of insanity washes over you as every sense in your body, and some you’re pretty sure you don’t have, overload until you cease to exist…
“I hear somevone building diaper-changing station!”
A familiar phrase reaches your ears, spoken by an unfamiliar voice; female, for one. You shake your head and look around you, hand still wrapped around this gun of guns. This is…familiar. Too familiar. A office building? The comforting sounds of gunfire and explosions in the background? Are you…could you be back?
A woman (at least you think it’s a woman) stands to your left, looking at you through thick black goggles and a matching gas mask. The only thing which defines her as male versus female is a massive mop of long white hair, once wrapped into a now unraveling ponytail, the ends black and singed. The rest of her is covered in an obscuring rubber body suit which, to your great dismay, does nothing to accentuate her girlish figure. She motions to you with a gigantic flamethrower, the gas intake primed and ready to go.
“Mmmhmm Mnnphh Mmm! MPPHH!”
“Don’ listen to ‘er! That Pyro’s a Spy!”
Turning around, you see a short girl dressed in rugged overalls and workboots lofting a shotgun in your general direction, a mustard-yellow hardhat jammed over her light blue hair. A key dangles from a rope around her neck, and though welding goggles mask her eyes, you can easily see from here that she’s frowning. More of value, however, are the two machine-gun turrets swiveling behind her, as well as the whirling vortex of light on the ground not ten feet away from you.
[ ] Shoot the Pyro. [ ] Shoot the Engineer. [ ] Follow the Pyro. [ ] Step into the light. [ ] Exit though this other, perfectly viable hallway right over here. [ ] THE DOCTOR IS IN!
Who are your allies? [ ] The Reds [ ] The Blues [ ] Yourself [ ] Any girl who’s legal. [ ] Any girl who’s not legal.
The Pyro is good! The Engineer is evil. The engineer builds sentries, and makes new bottlenecks, and poisons your healing with a plague of dispensers, as once it was. But the pyro shoots crits, and purifies the battlefield of the filth of campers. Go forth and ubercharge!
“Oust oust!” You shout at the Pyro. This is no time to sit around and chat, you’ve got a job to do.
“Mmmhmm Mnnphh Mmm! MPPHH!” The pyro replies happily and turns to run around the corner. As you follow her, the engineer sighs and returns to slapping a sentry with her wrench. How does that even help them? Your thoughts drift away but still as you dash off with your compatriot, you hear faintly
“Erectan a dispensah here.”
The battlefield is quiet with not a Red in sight. Your darting eyes only notice the bleak desert industrial environment, devoid of life and movement. Even the pitter patter of your feet and the occasional call from the Pyro becomes repetitious.
Pyro. The silver hair of her ponytail bounces up and down as she strides forward, moving almost hypnotically. Something about seeing her from behind, it…it compels you. Like the soft moan of a woman, it beckons to some primal urge deep inside. What…what’s going on?
Your hand is shaky at first as it reaches down to pick up the switchblade, but the familiar coldness against your hand put you at ease. There is no need to even think about it anymore, this is as natural as breathing air. In a swift fluid motion you swing your knife in a wide arc while the sun dances brightly upon the sharpened edge. It slides so amazingly easily into the back of her neck, coloring the boring pale hair with a beautiful sanguine crimson. She falls to the dirt in a clumsy “thump.”
Why did you never realize it before? You’ve never healed anyone in your life.
“Ha…haha” a giddy laugh crawls out from your throat. How silly. How amazingly stupid. You’ve been in disguise for so long, you even started to believe that’s who you are.
A flimsy mask bearing the image of a medic falls to the ground. The cigarette now in your mouth burns happily as you take in a long drag, savoring the long missed sensation and taste.
"Promise not to bleed on my suit and I’ll kill you quickly!" Your franco-spanish voice cries out with glee.
[ ] Take care of that blue engineer - [ ] Medic disguise - [ ] Pyro disguise [ ] Return to the Red base.
[+] Take care of that blue engineer. [+] Medic disguise. [+] Might as well sap those troublesome machines while you're at it. [+] You're in the heart of Blu Base; perhaps there's some intelligence you should be, ahem, "acquiring"?
Well now...this I didn't expect. Might as well make the best of it; prove to that pesky Aya the Scout that you can out-infiltrate her once and for all!
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[x] Take care of that blue engineer - [x] Medic disguise
Of course, an enemy engineer is an eternal thorn in everyone's side! You put the mask back on; you know best of anyone how to not rouse suspicion.
As you clandestinely make your way back to where she was, you see a girl in a blue...witch's outfit? She's somehow wielding the minigun you remember that big guy using (despite the fact that she's built like a beanpole), spraying hot lead into a passage. No use thinking about it: this is a perfect target! With a dancer's grace, you innocently saunter up and slit her throat. Her weapon drops to the ground, as does her now lifeless body. Yes, this is what you live for! Truly, nobody understands the finesse of a stealthy kill like you do.
From the passage the girl was firing into, another girl emerges. (Seriously, what's with these strange women all of a sudden? There were only men before....) She has long purple hair tied with ribbons, shooter glasses, a fedora, and red pajamas. These silly outfits and unnatural hair colors don't really seem strange anymore. The girl tips her hat to you and says "Thanks, mate." She then scurries to a vantage point, no doubt to make use of that sniper rifle she's holding. As she rounds a corner, you hear violent coughing. Come to think of it, you don't ever remember that sniper moving around much; must be bad for his health.
Your disguise reassumed, you find the engineer outside the BLU base. Not good; looks like she's just finishing the installation of a missile pod on that turret of hers. At least you're not in range of it.
"Wave goodbye to your secret crap, dumbasses!"
From behind, you see rushing toward the base a black-haired woman with bat in one hand, briefcase in the other, and cap on head. Wow, she's fast. How can she possibly run that fast in those weird clogs? Wait, she's just like that American kid. That's your team's intelligence! If you don't stop her, it might all be over for RED. What to do?
[ ] Intercept the Scout. - [ ] Knife as she runs past. - [ ] Too fast, use your trusty revolver. [ ] No, the Engineer and her sentry are a bigger threat. [ ] Retreat. There's no hope; live to fight another day. [ ] Hold it, you still have that utterly incomprehensible gun.... - [ ] (Target)
I don't care, I think this story is silly and fun enough to resurrect.