[tf2 ficdrabble] stupid cupid
It isn’t the first odd looking shipment RED base has received from on high, headquarters passing along whatever new lines of innovative armaments they have lying about from the suppliers. That could mean anything from holiday bonuses to someone up the ladder finding themselves in need of a guinea pig, and even that hasn't bothered Sniper in the past.
Still, for some reason he has his doubts about this new sniper set.
The longbow looks like it tried making an advance on the Huntsman and figured the best way to go about it would be through offers of bonbons and lacy underwear. It’s a… a light red color, with tiny ribbons and feather-like tracery sticking out of the ends, and the arrows are another thing entirely (the heads are, inexplicably, heart-shaped). But it’s the size of them that gets Sniper—an arrowhead that wide would need tremendous force behind it to inflict anything worse than a headache. More than the draw on this little bow’s got in it, anyway.
If Sniper didn’t know better he’d say it’d been designed to be non-lethal.
Then there’s the other item. Sniper pulls it out of the shipment box and has to spend a moment just taking it in. Like the bow, it’s also a kind of… soft red color. It has straps so he can only assume it’s meant to be worn but he can’t imagine what it’s supposed to do. His first impulse is to turn it over and look for another taped-on car battery.
“So what the hell is it?” Scout asks, looking over his shoulder. “It’s got like little wings on it and crap. You supposed to be a fairy princess or something?”
Sniper digs out a bundle of papers from the crate. The kit came with directions. They never come with directions, at least not so you couldn’t figure it out from looking at the pictures. “Not sure yet, mate,” he says, “but it’s starting to look that way.” He gives the sheet a flick and it unfurls like a five-page centerfold, another six sheets after that of nothing but fine print.
The fine print is longer than the instructions. Sniper reflects on that.
Engineer leans around Scout and test prods one of the wings. It whirls around excitedly like it's attached to a cheap metal spring. Which it probably is. “Seems like a lot of bookkeeping for shooting the pointy end in the other guy,” he says, finger held uncertainly over the plumage.
“Could be,” Sniper answers, distracted as he reads. If he didn’t already have a good idea how to shoot a bow, deciphering the main points of usage would be impossible. The one thing the manual is clear on is using everything at the same time.
Sniper casts the wings a sideways glance. Well, maybe BLU Spy will be laughing too hard to sneak up on him properly.
A couple minutes before the starting bell, Sniper stuffs the rest of the instructions back in the box to read later. He cringes as he pulls on the wings but he’s decided to at least give them a chance.
“Mon dieu, what are you wearing?” The sound of muffled laughter echoes down the hall, and Sniper rolls his eyes. Spy ambles past, glove over his mouth, laughing and holding the wall for support. That probably lends credibility to Sniper's guess on BLU Spy, at any rate.
Sniper sighs. He rolls his shoulders back with dignity but that just starts the wings reeling again, making him look like a disgruntled flamingo swimming a frantic backstroke. On the bright side he’s a dead man anyway if the enemy’s close enough to see that gem of a detail.
It couldn't possibly be worse than it looks, Sniper figures. Really, how bad could it be?
