Team Three Exists
by: Tickenest.M-MD, 10-11-99
Scientists today at the University of Pennsylvania announced their
exciting discovery that there is an additional team in TF besides the red
and blue teams. Scientists have dubbed the new team "Yellow" after its
quirky tastes in clothing.
"This new team wears bizarre yellow pants," said Professor David Kroll.
"We find their taste quite unusual, but we must not mock what we do not
understand. Further research will continue into the nature of this team
in the coming months."
Among the preliminary findings are that the "Yellow" team possesses
classes equal in number and strength to red and blue. They also enjoy
sewing, rollerblading, and long walks on the beach.
"I'm really surprised at the news," said one pyromaniac. "I mean, there
are the accepted facts, the given truths, the things that you can always
count on. For instance, you can always expect the water on 2fort5r to be
murky grey. Well, maybe not these days with GL and waterhack. But you
can always expect a scout to race through a map. Well, ok, maybe not on
Canalzone. But dead bodies will always stay dead. Ok, maybe not if it's
a spy feigning. But you can always expect there to be two teams playing
in a TF match. Sigh. I guess that's just not true anymore. I'm just so
jaded at this news. I'm gonna go burn down a building or something."
Fire engines were heard in the area shortly thereafter.
Fortunately, not everyone was upset at the news. One red medic shared
his sentiments with me. "It really gets tiring puncturing and hacking
blue guys all the time, and of course I would NEVER shoot my own team.
No, no, wouldn't dream of it. So it's really refreshing to learn that
there's a new team around here to fight. I think we all need to expand
our horizons more. Besides, this revelation'll really make maps like
Hunted and Border1 interesting. I mean, border patrol against civilians
with axes just wasn't interesting. And bodyguards defending the
president from nobody was no fun, either."
No word yet on the existence of Team Four.
©1999 - "Tickenest.M-MD" - All Rights Reserved
Cold Blood
by: [RTL]@k1mb0, 10-11-99
The mission briefing said this would be a "wet" assignment. Cyril looked around the small inflatable
trying to catch a comforting nod from one of his compatriots but was met by the cold straightforward
stare he had when he first came out of the academy. A lot had changed since then, about 3 wars 265
battles and 771 deaths worth of change, by his last account. Cyril had no idea when he was commissioned
for this job he would have to shove so many combats knife's into so many backs. Hell some missions he
felt more like a butcher then a soldier, but that didn't bother him he wasn't a soldier he was a spy.
Yes a spy the most hated man on the battlefield. He often heard stories of what happened to some of his
captured brethren and he always kept a cyanide capsule tucked in a false tooth to avoid the gruesome
unpleasantness. "Ok sideup" the driver bellowed as he set the small zodiac's engine to a quieter
trolling mode. The squad slowly took their places lying on the side on the boat readying themselves to
silently drop into the water. "Down, two by two, formational spread then form up single file 10 meters
from shore". Cyril gave the squad commander a distasteful snicker, he had done this a million times and
often wondered why he had too be informed every time.
The squad slowly slipped into the water barely making a ripple. About 15 meters from the shore the swam
in a single file line there heads causing the wayward observer to mistake them for a log in the water.
When they hit the shore the squad sniper quickly scouted the massive fort before them. "I have one
shooter in tower and a Fat boy inside left entrance". The squad quickly spread out along the frontal
face of the fort looking for traps. "DOWN!!" a pyro excitedly whispered as he noticed a scout walking
towards them on patrol. "Cyril Ta...." Before the squad leader could finish Cyril was already up and
slowly closing on his prey. He slipped up behind the scout drew his Knife and embedded it into the back
of his neck splitting the spine and severing the voice box. "Guunh" was all the scout could let out
before his body gently 'thumped" to the ground. Quickly Cyril activated his Hologuise and took up his
victim's identity and continued his patrol route stopping momentarily to wave at the wary sniper in
the top battlements. Cyril now made his way back to the waiting squad and was given the order to recon
and secure a infiltration point. Cyril nodded and made his way into the enemy monolith. As he neared
the docile Heavy Weaponer took notice "Hey Runt!! What are ya doin? You ain't off watch till 4 am, so
get your sissy ass back out there before I smack you around"! Cyril nodded and turned to walk back to
his duties but as soon as the HW turned his back Cyril pulled his tranq gun and placed a dart just above
his left ear immediately sending the armored giant to his knees. He pumped a few more darts into him
and watched as the sedation slowly caused his heart to cease and rigor mortis to take its hold. He
then made his way to the upper deck nervously passing a wily sentry praying his new guise would hold
off its sensors. The gun erriely beeped as it tracked his movements. Upon reaching the upper deck he
noticed a sleeping pyro sitting inside the battlement door. He quickly jumped over the slumbering pyro
and made his way to the sniper.
The snipe didn't pay him much attention as he meandered behind him and Cyril acted with equal
indifference trying his best to imitate his now post mortum persona. Cyril knew he couldn't kill
the sniper outright for fear of waking the dozing Firebat and making Cyril's excursion a little on
the warm side. Instead he slowly paced back to the Pyro and placed his Combat Knife under his
flame-thrower. He then walked back over to the Sniper and whispered something to the effect of "Hey
since when do Flame boys carry knives?" the sniper quickly charged his rifle and aimed it at the
sleeping pyro relishing a chance to kill the bane of his craft. In the background Cyril produced a
grenade and pulled the pin counting off the seconds on the timer. The sniper released his trigger and
sent a shot barreling full bore into the narcoleptic Promethean. With in an instant the pyros armor
was fully stripped and he awoke, spraying the area with flames stripping the snipers in turn. Cyril
quickly tossed the primed grenade into the fray; all that remained was a charred mass of smoking flesh
and the combat knife covered in soot from the flashover of black powder.
Seeing the rousing confrontation from the nearby grass the squad rushed the fort guns blazing. Cyril
quickly tossed a hallucinogen grenade in front of the enemy ammo room choking its inhabitants as they
rushed towards fresh air. The first ally Cyril saw was Crevat the medic. He quickly slipped around the
room of suffocating soldiers and infected them with his viral pack. They now screamed in agony and shot
blindly around the room as the combo of gas and poisons wreaked havoc on there minds and bodies. A few
blindly stumbled back into the gas cloud and became affixiated. Cyril was already in the process of
charging his hologuise and soon imitated a enemy demoman. Cravat unaware ran headlong into Cyril and
slapped him with his pack. The pack gave off the tingling beep an ally and he nodded whilst continuing
his work. The rest of the squad soon arrived and cleaned out the remainder of the base. After healing
up and securing the fortress Cyril was informed that this was to be an assassination and the subject
was arriving to the base soon with a "small" escort.
4 hours later the subject did indeed arrive on the bank of the Fort. He was a fat man wearing a blue
suit and carrying an umbrella. He had a greasy moustache and looked as if he was a low rate Colombian
drug lord. Cyril was later informed the subject ruled a small South American country known for its
drug exports. His escort included two HWGUYS and a cadre of Soldiers. They all walked in tight
formation wary of there surroundings. Cyril geared up and prepared his disguise, "a engineer outta do"
he whispered to himself and he began to head off. Roland, the squads demolitions guy halted Cyril
and informed him he had picked up the wrong backpack. Cyril nodded and exchanged packs with Roland,
curiously he had never remembered his pack being this heavy before. He met the President in front of
the fort and greeted him gingerly, he then took a place behind him as the security detail moved towards
the forts door. As he looked around the phalanx he wondered if his squad could possibly take out all
this armor after the assassination or if they were going to toss out some countermeasures to cover an
escape. Regardless Cyril slowly produced a knife and prepared to strike. He brought the knife up
readying to strike ,but in mid stroke he heard a electronic voice begin to count down
5.......4.......3......2......
Cyril darted his look to the battlements there stood Roland with a grim expression on his face as he
mouthed the words "I'm Sorry"....
1...
"Fire in the Hole"!!!!
©1999 - "[RTL]@k1mb0" - All Rights Reserved
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
|
Feel Creative? This is the place for you, the reader, to write
whatever you want, be it a TF poem, a good story from a game you had, something completely oddball
like "The 10 Classes That Didn't Make it Into TF2", fiction stories, or whatever! Don't feel like you have
to write a book either (though nobody's stopping you ;) When you've got something ready just
Creative Archives
RSS Feeds
