Helllllo everybody! Here is my original character for tf2, Mimic! I have a long fic going with her and the other 9 classes, following BLU team and her endeavors. I finally have drawn up her character sheet, her emblem, and her game card. I spent far too much time on the mf wiki staring at the Kunai and shotguns for her, I hope she’s happy.
Unfortunately I am only realizing now how dumb renaming functionally similar weapons sound, but whatever.
I’m adding some more yapping under the cut because I’m obsessed.
It’s important to note AGAIN that she can’t at all cover an entire class for long, more like a engineer can make the dispensers but it’s gonna be a lot better if you actually have a Medic. Story wise, it’s gonna be something like she’s physically not strong enough (heavy, solider), not capable (engineer, medic, spy), or it’s literally she just shares guns or ability’s with people (scours speed, snipers exclusive snipers, pyros fire, demos launcher). Game wise, it would be more along the lines of less ammo or more time limits to things. I’m gonna talk about each character separately because I have thoughts on how this would work.
Scout: she obviously is fast, this is even a major thing with the story. His speed in game is 133 I believe and the second fastest is spy at like 107. I would probably put her at about 122% that way she is notably fast but not breaching Scouts ability. I also have her written to be able to use the scattergun and likely some of its other variants, but again in game to balance there would have to be changes to how the gun fires. Like force-a-nature and soda popper (fuck that gun btw) would have slower reload speeds, which would suck because they already such but my point still stands.
Demoman: bomb. In all honesty it’s hard to work with him because his class is so weirdly specific and I never play him. However, I think for guns that are Mimic Specific I think they could take from Demos class. Sticky bombs for example are so awesome and I think having things like Mini sticky’s would be cool for her.
Soldier: again also hard to work with him. My only decent idea is her being able to rocket jump but no access to the actual rocket jumper or anything that decreases damage delt like that. Why can’t she use the rocker jumper if she knows how to do it normally? I hear you not asking, my answer is uh… I dunno she likes explosions or something.
Pyro: they were by far the easiest to decode. Also more than likely with pyro be the majority of her loadout for MTM. Obviously the flare gun but the one she gets is Class specific and relys on splash damage. Partly because I really like splash damage mechanics and also because giving her a base flare gun is boring. I feel like also maybe the thermal thruster but that feels like cheating. Also she can put out her team, I plan on giving her a mimic specific weapon that will do that.
Engineer: I never play this class but I love him dearly, so I am 100% bullshitting my way through this one. My first thought was mini sentry’s but that is soooo hard to balence so I had the idea of giving it high as hell health but stupid low damage. That would make players have to focus on the sentry not because it’s a threat, but because it’s annoying. And then you ambush. Simple. I actually might still use that. However she can also use the wrangler but from her wrist console within a certain radius. This also requires the engineer to be using the wrangler, and Mimic gets a fatass time limit. This allows for story progression via teamwork (!) and game mechanic ideas. She can also fix buildings just slower. Which also solidifies the Spy. Vs. Mimic thing going on. Finally her spine is technically equitable and therefore is close enough to the gunslinger.
Medic: This was hard because the obvious answer is healing. But how? I landed on her having a class specific mini medi gun that can’t do Ubers and has a time limit. In game I don’t see a mimic-medic being played as a primary, more so as a secondary choice in a pinch. The way Mimic will work is that her loadout is what she’s using to “mimic” so just like how you can change to a diffrent primary with the Mercs, for her your switching is like mimicking someone else. So therefor, medic is a quick switch and not constant, thus I chose not to dream up anything that someone would have out constantly.
Heavy: also incredibly difficult because how the hell do I convince a person that A: heavy would let a soul use his guns and B: mimic could even lift them. So the best I got was mini light weight minigun. I dunno man it’s the best I got. I feel like giving her something like the sandvich or even the chocolate bar is kinda crossing a line on what she SHOULD be able to mimic. Sandvich is such an important thing to Heavy that it feels wrong taking that away.
Spy: he’s easy honestly. There is so many things he does so realistically she could copy any of them. I won’t explain the Kunai as it is technically spoilers for the fic, but the name of it being Olive Branch is meaningful enough. That being said she’s already made to be quiet and cunning so backstabbing is obvious, but again with significant drawbacks. For example no cloaking, things like spysicle are off the table, and she can’t disguise. To make it a little fair her console can mimic voices so it’s kinda close?
Sniper: I main sniper so you would think this would be easy but honestly the only thing notable is her spine working like the razorback. Class specific snipers will only be good if you hate yourself spend a lot of time figuring it out. Huntsmen is a good example but id probably give her something like the Sydney sleeper just obviously no Jarate affect and maybe take away the charge entirely. Other than that I do have to give her the SMG because it’s my favorite gun, but I’m not adding that because it’s a little unfair. But it’ll probably show up in the story.
At the end of the day, she is a fill in for people, not the main show. That being said she is a worthwhile class because of the switching and strategy involved. Would this work for real in game? No, probably not. But for my story it’s good enough for me to map out what she can and cannot use
Okay I’m super nervous to post this, but I love reading yalls fics so much I wanted to try and contribute.
So have way too many fucking words of pre-steddie whump, ft. sick Eddie and kink Steve (not much happens with that, but it’s there if you pay attention)
I may continue this if there’s any interest so uhh,, yeah! Sorry if it sucks ass fdsfsd
______
Eddie scrubs a hand over his face in frustration before shoving it back under his armpit in an attempt to keep warm.
It's one of the first truly cold days of the year. It snowed lightly all morning, leaving a thin blanket of white around town. The wind is harsh and causes Eddie’s hair to whip around him as he stands in front of his van.
"Shit," he curses, not for the first time since he walked out into the parking lot only to find his tires slashed.
Really, he shouldn't be surprised. His van is pretty recognizable, and he's not exactly a beloved figure around Hawkins right now.
Having your name tied to a string of murders will do that, even if you get your name cleared by some shadowy government figures who make you sign about a thousand NDA agreements in exchange.
The overall population of Hawkins is still pretty dead set on him being a murderous demon with powers gifted to him by Satan or whatever people are saying about him now.
"Fuck, shit," he breathes, letting out a small strangled noise of frustration that quickly turns into a wet sounding cough.
Because of course this would happen when he was already getting sick.
He hadn't even wanted to come in to the Family Video today, but Steve and Robin worked their asses off to get him this job, and he can't afford to be calling out sick.
The shift had dragged on. It was slow at least, most people choosing to stay in to avoid the weather.
But sitting at the counter for the entire shift has left Eddie feeling achy and exhausted, and he just really wants to go home where he can disappear into a big pile of blankets until he feels like being a person again.
He feels his eyes start to burn with tears against his will as he looks at the van, but he pushes the emotions down.
This isn’t the time to be getting upset. He needs to look at this logically.
He has a few options.
He could trudge down to the auto shop and somehow lug 3 new tires back here in the snow. It's about a 20 minute walk there though... and then he'd actually have to change the tires out, which sounds pretty awful considering he's already starting to shiver and he's only been standing out here for a few minutes. His leather jacket feels pretty thin in the face of the biting cold.
He could also go back into the Family Video and see if Keith will let him use the phone, despite the fact that the man very clearly isn't his biggest fan. He tries to avoid any lengthy interactions with him if possible.
And then he's not even sure who he would call. There's his uncle, but he should have left for work about 20 minutes ago, and he refuses to bother the poor man at his job.
He knows Wayne would leave in a heartbeat to come get him, but Eddie doesn't want to burden him like that.
He thinks about the little radio the nerds insist on him carrying around now that he's a 'real party member,' which apparently is what they call being one of the small handful of random civilians that somehow always wind up tasked with literally preventing the apocalypse.
He considers radioing in for help on that, but then he remembers that he would be begging for help from literal children, and grimaces.
He guesses he could call for a tow truck, but shit that's expensive, and he really wants to go home and sleep.
He snuffles thickly and raises a numb hand up to wipe at his nose, which is freezing cold and starting to run.
There is one last person that he could call for help. Someone with one of the party radios who actually has the ability to drive over to come get him.
And, yeah, begging the ex-King of Hawkins High himself, Steve Harrington to come and get him doesn't exactly sound appealing, even if they have started to become friends since everything that went down last spring.
Especially because he's started to develop a slightly stupid... okay very stupid, unrealistic crush on the man.
But it's the best option he's got at this point.
So he throws open the door to his van, ignoring the way the hinges creak with the strain, and grabs the walkie talkie from where it sits in the passenger seat.
He only hesitates for a moment before he lets his numb fingers flip to the right frequency.
"Harrington, this is Eddie, do you copy?"
There's silence for a long moment, and resignation curls around him. It’s one of Steve’s days off so of course he’d be busy- probably out on a date, or hanging out with Robin or something.
Fuck, maybe he can just call a tow truck after all. He can't really afford it but he's not really sure what else to do.
"Munson, what's going on? Over."
Oh thank fuck.
He shakily holds the walkie talkie to his mouth, his numb fingers struggling to press down the talk button "Hey, snDff sorry, Someone uh- I snrff got a flat and I'm at work, is there any way you could give me a lift?"
His teeth chatter as he talks and he keeps sniffling, which is more than a little embarrassing.
"Oh shit man," Steve's voice crackles through the radio, and he can hear movement on the other end "Headed your way Munson. Don't like, freeze or anything, over."
Eddie snorts at Harrington saying 'over,' even as relief washes over him.
"Thanks man snrrf...uh, over."
He sets the walkie talkie to the side, curling in on himself as he sits in his cold van, sniffles punctuating the silence.
He’s never wished his van had a heater more than he does now, but at least help is on the way.
Still, between the stress and the cold, any hope he had of this being a minor cold has flown out the window. He can feel himself feeling worse and worse with every passing minute.
His nose is running non stop and all he can do is sniffle thickly every so often in a pathetic attempt to get it under control. His body is wracked with shivers, and everything aches fiercely. His head feels like it’s been stuffed full of cotton, and he reaches up to massage his temples every so often.
By the time he sees Steve's car pulling into the parking lot, Eddie's so cold he can barely feel his toes.
He stumbles out of the van quickly as Harrington pulls up next to him.
His window is rolled down and he's staring at the van.
"Jesus Munson," Steve frowns, a strange look in his eyes, "Someone slashed your tires.”
Eddie resists the urge to say something snarky about Steve stating the obvious.
He just snuffles and shrugs, "Yeah well, I’m a ‘murderer,’ remember," he puts air quotes around 'murderer.’
Steve gives him a sympathetic look that would've pissed him off coming from anyone else.
"Well… get your ass in here before you turn into an icicle man. We can figure that out tomorrow," he gestures at the van.
Eddie thanks whatever higher powers there may be that neither of them have work tomorrow, shakily climbing into Steve Harrington's car.
The heat hits him all at once. Steve must have turned it up just for him, because it’s toasty in here, and Eddie sinks into the seat with a small moan.
He puts his hands in front of the vent, letting the warmth wash over them and chase the chill from outside away.
“Thangks for this man,” Eddie breathes out, congestion thick in his voice.
His nose is running even more than it had been in the van, as the warmth loosens up the congestion.
He lifts up a sleeve and scrubs at it harshly, the leather from his jacket rough on his sensitive nose.
Steve rolls up the window and turns the heat up a little more.
"It's too fucking cold out there man, I'm sorry they did that to you."
Eddie shrugs, swiping at his nose again, "Thad was probably the point,” he frowns down at his lap, “It is what id is though.”
He turns to Steve and quickly adds, "But thangks for the ride, I snf appreciade it."
Steve smiles softly at him, “Don’t mention it Munson.”
They fall into a comfortable silence, sans Eddie's constant sniffling, as Steve pulls out of the parking lot.
“Do you kdow the way to the trailer park?”
Steve nods, “Yeah, of course man.”
Eddie just sniffles in response, scrubbing harshly at his nose with his sleeve again.
He misses the concerned look Steve shoots him as he does so.
“I think there might be some tissues in the glove compartment if you wanna dig around?”
The tips of Eddie’s ears flush, but he tries to brush off the embarrassment “I- Umbb… Sure thangks.”
He opens the glove compartment and awkwardly shifts a few things around, finding a travel pack of tissues easily. Trust Steve to be this prepared.
“You’re such a mom,” he teases as he tears the pack open.
Steve sputters, “I am not!”
Eddie raises a brow at him, and Steve flushes.
God he’s so cute when he gets all flustered.
Eddie shakes his head to clear those thoughts. Now is not the time to be pining for Steve Harrington.
He takes a tissue from the pack and turns towards the window, dabbing at his nose a bit. He’s not willing to blow in front of Steve, especially when he knows it’s probably going to be wet and gross if he does.
The soft touch of the tissue on his chapped nose feels nice though.
But it also irritates his nose, and his eyes widen as his nostrils flare a bit. His breath catches, and he grimaces.
When he’s sick he always gets stupidly sensitive. It drives him mad, and he can never catch a damn break once the sneezing starts. It hadn’t been too bad during his shift, but obviously this cold is really starting to ramp up now.
“Ehheh..” he pinches his nose through the tissue, “Hehh’NXXTshh.. Hh-hhXGTShhuh.. HeiHh-HeHh’nNDTXXShh- HeiSHhGGXXt… snnRRff…”
Eddie flushes all the way to his neck at how wet and desperate the sneezes sounded, “Sorry aboud thad, snFf,” he grabs another tissue from the pack and hurries to clean himself up.
He misses the way Steve has turned bright red at the fit.
“No need to apologize,” Steve finally says after a long moment, “but are you feeling okay?”
Eddie chews on his bottom lip. He really doesn’t want to admit to his crush that he’s all gross and sick, so he shrugs.
“I’m fine, it’s jusd from being out in the cold.”
Steve hums, pulling up to a red light. He turns to look at Eddie as the car stops, his expression disbelieving.
“If you’re sure…”
Eddie nods, “Yeah dude, don’t snddf worry.”
Steve frowns, and Eddie ignores the look on his face that screams ‘I don’t believe you.’
“Okay but… you can blow your nose if you need to. I’m not gonna get like, grossed out or anything.”
Eddie winces. God, leave it to him to be so disgusting in front of his stupidly hot, brave, badass crush that he’s literally asking him to blow his fucking nose. Steve is probably getting annoyed by the constant sniffling.
“Ah, yeah. I wasn’d worried,” he lies with a shrug, fiddling with the pack of tissues in his lap as the light turns green and Steve pulls away.
After a brief hesitation, Eddie does wind up bringing a tissue to his nose to blow softly.
Despite the fact that he’s attempting to make as little noise as possible, it still comes out thick and productive, and he makes a face as he adds to tissue to the growing pile in his lap.
He will admit, it did help clear up some of the congestion.
Steve doesn’t react at all aside from offering him a soft smile when he notices Eddie staring at him, which makes Eddie flush.
The rest of the drive is uneventful, and soon Steve is pulling up to Eddie’s trailer.
“Thanks again Steve,” Eddie says, resisting the urge to sniffle when he’s so close to being able to be as gross as his heart desires without worrying about looking like an idiot.
“It really wasn’t any trouble Eddie,” Steve assures softly, reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder. Eddie feels like his entire body burns with the touch and he can feel his cheeks darkening.
“Let’s figure out what to do about the van when you’re feeling better, okay.”
Eddie flushes even darker, “I’m fine- but you don’t have to worry about that anyways Steve, you’ve already helped enough.”
Steve rolls his eyes, “Hey, get it through your thick skull, I want to help.”
Eddie feels like he could melt into the earth right now, “I… uh, okay,” he squeaks.
Steve nods, looking satisfied, and drops his hand from Eddie’s shoulder, “Call me if you need anything Munson.”
Eddie nods, mourning the loss of contact. He turns away and pushes open the door to Steve’s car, stepping back out into the cold biting air.
He shivers immediately, and turns back to Steve to give him a small wave before hurrying inside the trailer.
Once he’s inside he slumps in on himself, burying his head in his hands and sniffling soupily.
“Oh my god,” he groans to himself, rubbing at his nose as he drags himself over to the couch and all but collapses into it, “What a fucking day…”
He bundles himself up in all the blankets he can scavenge from around the trailer and settles in on the couch, putting on a star wars tape he bought ages ago for background noise.
He falls asleep pretty quickly after laying down on the couch, his body curled up in the nest of blankets.
_____
He wakes up to knocking at his front door, and he sits up blearily .
“The hell?” he mumbles to himself.
Whoever is at the door knocks again, and Eddie raises a hand to his temple. God his head is killing him.
“Mm cobing,” he calls, congestion thick in his voice.
Fuck, he needs to blow his nose again.
He stands up, grabbing one of the blankets from his little nest and wrapping it around himself as he makes his way to the door.
Shit, how does he somehow feel so much worse than he did when he fell asleep.
He glances at the clock on the wall and sees that only about an hour has passed since he got home. It wasn’t even that long of a nap, and yet he somehow feels so awful.
He forces himself to open the door, and his brows furrow.
“Steve?”
Steve waves awkwardly on his doorstep, “Hey Eddie,” he holds up a shopping bag, “I come bearing gifts.”
Eddie blinks, feeling behind. Did he miss something? His brain feels foggy, and he can’t help but stare in confusion.
Steve seems to pick up on this and smiles sheepishly, “I was just… well you didn’t sound too good in the car earlier. I know you said you weren’t sick, but you can’t really drive right now. So I went and got you a few things.”
Eddie softens, pulling the door open and gesturing for Steve to come in, which Steve does.
“You didn’t have to do thad Steve,” he protests, his face flushed. He’s not sure if it’s from embarrassment or the fever that he thinks must have settled in during his nap. It might be both.
“I wanted to,” Steve insists, “I hope I’m not overstepping or anything. I know we aren’t super close, I was just worried.”
Eddie shakes his head, “No, no, I appreciade id. You jusd didn’t need to go to the trouble for me.”
Tension Eddie hadn’t even realized was there seems to seep out of Steve. “Doing things for you isn’t trouble Eddie,” he insists as he sets the bag down on the coffee table in front of the couch.
Eddie sits back down, hesitantly gesturing for Steve to join him, which Steve does.
Their knees brush against one another as Steve settles into the couch, and Eddie flushes.
He reaches forward to see what’s in the bag as a distraction.
“God, you really are a mom,” Eddie laughs as he looks through everything.
There’s tissues, cold medicine, a can of soup, cough drops, painkillers, and a few snacks in the bag.
Steve flushes at that and grumbles under his breath that he isn’t, which just makes Eddie laugh even harder.
His laughter quickly turns into wet coughs, and he turns away from Steve as they wrack his body.
He feels a hand press against his back, stabilizing him, and he can’t help but be grateful for it even if he is humiliated at Steve seeing him like this.
“You okay?” Steve asks as the coughing tapers off.
“Mm, yeah. Sorry ‘bout that,” Eddie grimaces, “I’m… I guess you obviously put it together, but I thingk I’b a liddle sick righd now,” he admits, staring down at his lap “So I’b probably not godda be the best snnrrf company.”
Steve makes a small tutting sound, brushing Eddie’s hair from his face where it had fallen during the coughing fit, and gently turns his head to face him, “Hey, don’t say that.”
Steve gives him a warm look that leaves Eddie breathless, “I already figured you were sick, I came cause I was worried about you Eds, not because I need you to entertain me,” he smiles “Besides, you’re great company no matter what, so relax.”
Eddie wants to scream, and say it’s hard to relax when Steve is right next to him looking so perfect and kind and amazing and he’s all gross and pathetic looking.
He doesn’t of course, just nods and smiles hesitantly “If you’re sure.”
Steve nods, “I’m sure.”
Eddie slumps back into the couch at that.
Steve seems to take this as permission to enter full mother hen mode, and Eddie watches as he grabs the cold medicine and bustles around the kitchen, getting Eddie a glass of water.
“Steve, I could’ve done thad myself,” Eddie chuckles, “I’m not bedridded”
Steve rolls his eyes, pressing the medicine and water into his hands, “Just take it, Munson.”
“Sir yes sir,” he jokes, taking the pill, along with a few painkillers.
“What are you watching?” Steve asks as they both settle into the couch.
Eddie glances at the movie, which he’s pretty much entirely missed, “Star Wars,” he pauses, “Do you not know Star Wars?”
Steve flushes, “Dustin’s been trying to get me to watch those, but I never got around to it.”
Eddie shakes his head, “You work at a.. at… a video-hhh… hhHhh” a tickle blossoms in the back of his nose as he speaks, and he trails off.
He blinks a few times, his expression glazing over and his nose flaring.
He glances around, looking for the tissues Steve brought, but they’re still wrapped in the plastic and he knows there’s no way he’s going to be able to get it open in time.
“Shihht..” he mumbles, mostly to himself. He doesn’t want to sneeze openly in front of Steve, especially with this cold. It’ll be wet and disgusting no matter how hard he tries to tamp them down.
So with a grimace, he chooses the next best thing, raising the blanket he’s wrapped in to his nose.
It feels nice and soft, but the soft fuzz just irritates his nose more, making his breath hitch wildly.
“Hehh.. ehh.. Hohld ohnn,” he manages, turning away from Steve a bit as his shoulders shake with the impending sneeze.
“Hehh.. HH’MMPpHTShh- HH’NGXXtshh.. HEI’NGDDTSheww Hh.. ngh… god… HhEIMPSHHhh.. hh’ehHPTshh.. Hh… HHiShhhuhh..” the fit leaves him breathless, and he winces as he pulls away from his blanket to find a damp spot.
“God, Sorry, thad was gross,” he reaches forward and grabs the tissues, tearing the wrapping off and fishing the first one out of the box.
He spares a glance over at Steve, who looks frozen in place.
He frowns, hoping he didn’t gross him out too much… Steve did choose to come back knowing he was sick, but he looks completely shocked by the display.
It was pretty intense, but Eddie always gets like that when he’s sick.
It’s humiliating, but it’s how it is. He was kind of stupidly hoping Steve wouldn’t mind, since he chose to come back, but he looks properly disgusted now.
Steve seems to shake it off after a moment, shaking his head, “Bless you,” he swallows, “That sounded intense.”
Eddie shrugs, sniffling uselessly, “Yeah, I always get really sneezy whed I’b sick,” Steve stares at him, wide eyed, and Eddie sighs, “It’s really gross I know. I did ward you I wasn’d good company righd now.”
Steve blinks, seeming surprised, “No! No, it’s fine Eddie. It isn’t gross, you’re just sick.”
Eddie shrugs, grabbing a tissue and turning away from Steve and taking a deep breath, forcing himself to get over his embarrassment.
It’s not like it really matters. Steve isn’t going to be interested in him regardless, so he may as well.
He blows thickly, and then folds the tissue over to blow again. It feels like the mess just keeps coming, and he can barely make a dent in the absurd amounts of congestion that have taken root in his head.
“God, this sucks,” he grumbles, congestion still audible in his voice.
Steve gets a contemplative look on his face for a moment, before he suddenly jumps up.
Eddie turns to face him with wide eyes.
“You should try a steam bowl!” he exclaims.
Eddie blinks, “What?”
Steve stares at him, “You know- to clear up congestion? Where you put your face over steaming water. It’ll help you clear all that congestion up.”
Eddie’s never done anything like that. He mostly just powers through colds with pure spite, and prays they don’t turn into sinus infections. That happened once and it was not a fun time.
“Here, you keep watching your nerd movie, I’ll show you,” Steve hurries over to the kitchen, and Eddie turns blearily back to the movie.
The only reason he even kinda knows what’s going on is because he’s seen it a million times.
He must drift off into that state that’s somewhere between being awake and asleep at some point, because he can hear Steve bustling about his kitchen, but he’s definitely losing bits and pieces.
Suddenly Steve is at his side with a bowl full of steaming water.
“Your snoring is so cute Eds,” he grins as he passes the bowl over.
Eddie takes it gingerly, a dark flush overtaking his face, “I- I don’t usually!” he exclaims, though he isn’t sure why.
Steve just grins at him, and Eddie stares down at the bowl.
“So whad do I do?”
“You just hold your face over it and breathe in the steam.”
Eddie looks at it hesitantly, but he trusts Steve, so he holds the bowl up to his face and takes a deep breath.
He will admit, it does feel a lot easier to breathe with the warm steam wrapping around him.
He takes a deep breath in through his nose, and then another.
Suddenly his eyes shoot open wide.
“Fuhhck-hhh,” his nose flares, and he looks wildly at Steve, “Steve..hhh.. ‘M huhh… guhhna… HHh”
Steve seems to understand what he’s saying, because he reaches forward and takes the bowl from Eddie’s trembling grasp.
All Eddie can do is shoot him a grateful look before crumpling forward.
He has to catch the sneezes in his hands, pinching his nose in a desperate attempt to control the releases, “Hehh’NNXXt hhh-hehh.. HEh’NDTShhH.. IHHNkktSHH- hh!! HEI’TNXGSHh..” Eddie fumbles around, managing to grab a tissue from the box in the slight reprieve between sneezes.
He brings the tissue to his face, his breath already hitching as he builds up to another sneeze, “hh-HHMMPTSHH!! HeiHH’MPPttSHHuh hEiihh… ihh… IHHMPPTShh… TSHHUHh!!... hh… HEPTSHhuhh!!… snrRFf..snfSNF” Eddie bowls softly into the tissue, tossing it aside before looking at Steve, who is still holding the bowl.
“Sorry, it was working udtil id started botheri’g me...” he gives Steve a guilty look, feeling bad that he went to all the trouble of preparing the bowl from him only for him to start sneezing his head off.
Steve brushes him off, even though there’s a strange look in his eyes again, “It’s fine Eds, do you wanna try again?”
Eddie nods and takes the bowl again.
This time it helps clear up the congestion without any complications. He can finally speak without sounding fucking ridiculous again.
“That’s a neat trick Stevie,” he hums as Steve sets the cooling bowl off to the side.
Steve smiles softly at him, “I’m glad it helped some.”
Eddie nods, grabbing another blanket from his pile to burrow beneath now that the warmth from the bowl in his hands is gone.
Steve frowns, reaching forward to press his hand against Eddie’s forehead.
“Shit, you’re warm Munson.”
Eddie shrugs, “Yeah, I feel like I’ve got a fever,” he huffs, “Also pretty normal for me… My body kinda hates me.”
Steve snorts at that, “You’ve just got a nasty cold Eds.”
And there’s that- Steve keeps calling him ‘Eds’ so softly, and it makes his whole heart feel warm. He thinks maybe it’s just the fever making him overemotional, but it’s just so soft, and it makes him wish he could reach out and wrap himself around Steve.
He restrains himself, looking at the movie just in time for the credits to start rolling.
“Do you have any more tapes?” Steve asks.
Eddie goes to stand and get one, but Steve tsks at him and lightly pushes him back down.
“Sit your ass down Munson, I’ll put something on.”
Eddie points him to the cabinet where they keep all their VHS tapes.
“You got anything in particular you wanna watch?”
Eddie shakes his head, “You can pick Harrington. I can’t really focus much right now anyways,” he admits.
Steve shoots him a slightly worried look, but hums.
“Oh, The Breakfast Club!” he exclaims, and Eddie laughs, because of course Steve would love that movie.
“That works for me,” Eddie smiles, and Steve puts the tape in.
As Steve returns to the couch, he insists that Eddie should lay down and get comfortable.
“I don’t, snnf wanna kick you outta your spot Harrington. We don’t exactly have a snnrrf lot of seating here.”
Steve hums, looking contemplative for a moment, “Well.. uh,” he hesitates, looking a little nervous. Eddie wonders what could possibly make Steve Harrington look that flustered.
“Here how about,” he moves to sit on Eddie’s side of the couch, and Eddie sits up, confused.
Then Steve pats his lap, looking expectantly at Eddie, who stares at him, confused.
“You lay down,” Steve says, as if it’s obvious that he would want Eddie to lay down on his lap. As if the very idea doesn’t make Eddie’s insides twist up and butterflies flutter in his stomach because sure, Steve means it as platonic cuddling, but it’s more than he ever thought he’d get from the man.
“Oh, uh, sure,” Eddie nervously settles in. Steve is slumped comfortably against the side of the couch, and Eddie is laying his head on the bottom half of his torso.
It has no right to be this comfortable.
He wraps all the blankets around himself, trying to watch the movie through his feverish haze
At some point, Steve starts running a hand through his hair, and it feels so nice.
No one’s ever done that for Eddie before.
His body feels more relaxed than it has in months, and his eyes start to feel heavy after a while.
He closes them, but doesn’t quite fall asleep, savoring the feeling of Steve Harrington running his fingers through his hair.
He’s still half asleep when another itch sparks in the back of his nose.
Without thinking, he turns and rubs it against Steve’s chest.
“Nghh… hh” his breath hitches a bit, and he buries his nose into Steve’s shirt, still not really registering where he is, “hhh-hhHMppffSHH… HEhhHMmsHHh… HeiPPtSHhh…”
Eddie feels Steve tense underneath him, and blinks as awareness floods back to him, and he recoils in horror.
“Oh my god!” he stares at the damp spot he left in Steve’s sweater in shock, “Oh my god!” he repeats, running a hand through his hair in horror.
“Hey, hey Eddie, it’s okay,” Steve tries to reassure, but Eddie shakes his head.
“Chist, that’s so gross- oh my god,” he can tell Steve is uncomfortable- he’s all tense and his eyes are wide. Yet he’s still trying to be nice. Even though Eddie just fucking sneezed on him.
“I’m so sorry Steve! I should- you can go if you want- you probably should even. I can not believe I did that, shit…”
Tears are building behind his eyes, and he tries to blink them away because why is he crying- poor Steve is the one who just got sneezed on.
“Shh,” Steve hushes him, reaching out and pulling him in a tight hug, “Eddie it’s okay, I don’t mind.”
Eddie shakes his head against Steve’s shoulder, unable to say anything.
“That’s just the fever talking Eds, everythings okay,” Steve tries, but it doesn’t feel okay. It feels like he just ruined his chances of Steve even wanting to be his friend.
“C’mon, Eddie, look at me,” Steve tries, pulling back enough from the hug so he can try to meet Eddie’s eyes.
Eddie looks at him after a moment, and Steve looks so genuinely concerned that it hurts.
“See, I’m not mad or upset sweetheart,” he soothes, and Eddie’s eyes widen at the pet name.
Steve seems to notice, “Sorry- too far?”
Eddie shakes his head, not trusting himself to speak.
Steve relaxes, “Okay, are you calmed down now?”
Eddie nods after a moment, swallowing thickly, “I really am sorry Sdeve.”
Steve shushes him again, “None of that now, you don’t need to be sorry,” Steve presses him into another tight hug, running a hand through Eddie’s hair softly, “It was an accident, and I don’t mind at all.”
God, Steve really does seem too good to be true sometimes.
Steve drags Eddie back to the couch, and Eddie nervously lets Steve guide him to rest against his chest again.
“Get some rest Eddie, you need it,” Steve assures him, and Eddie nods against him, humming his agreement.
Steve resumes running his hand through Eddie’s hair, and the repetitive motion lulls him to sleep quickly.
@ AO3
Fandom: Bangtan Boys
Pairing: Park Jimin/Kim Taehyung, VMin
Words: 6,264
Highlights: Witch!AU, Light angst, Angst with a happy ending
Summary: Jimin and Taehyung are two urban witches who fall in love in spring and part in winter.
A/N: I wrote this as a present for @hngbins for her birthday! I wasn’t sure whether it was going to be a one-off thing or if that would actually end my 5 years hiatus but seeing that it’s got me working on some other things too, I thought it was appropriate to post it as a start of my new writing blog.
Hello! I am back I just had a little medical problem but I’m still writing for Meet the Mimic to my little audience! Spy is being… well spy. Hopefully his shenanigans won’t cause problems for her future
Spy had noticed her walking around outside his door pretty quickly. He’s always in tune to the sound of footsteps around him. Honestly, any sound was something he always picked up on. So when he noticed the new girl, he thought he’d try and speak with her. Spy didn't have high hopes, he’s been dealing with every other delinquent on this team for years now; that doesn't stop him from hoping that she was at least a little civilized.
“Would you like to come in?” Spy spoke simply, not with a mysterious tone and nothing that could come off as threatening. He felt like he was trying to attract a scared prey animal.
Mimics head whipped around fast, she wasn't expecting anyone to actually notice her, let alone call out to her. She pursed her lips, deciding if she wanted to respond or if she just wanted to leave. Mimic wanted to get the other list of things done first before socializing. However, she is also aware she might need guidance on where to get things, and another shirt. God what about money? Things cost money, she cursed to herself in her head. The voice hadn't spoken again.
With furrowed brows, Mimic pushed open the door to the nice looking room. It was dark, looking akain to a wooden cabin of all things. A nice velvet chair sat in the corner with a side table holding a very fancy looking bottle of wine, a glass of said wine, and an ashtray. Her back straightened immediately at the change of scenery. It smelt like a mix of cigarettes and clean linens.
A figure sat in the corner on the chair, he took a long drag of his smoke and looked at her. She raised an eyebrow in confusion and searched the masked face for a trace of reasoning. He tilted his head, blowing the smoke out of his mouth.
“Mademoiselle.” Spy greeted simply, no added flourish that Mimic would have expected. She continued to stare at the man before her, taking in the suit he was wearing and the general atmosphere that surrounded him. His eyes trailed her, as if to scan her. He quickly noticed the bloodied shirt that has since dried for the most part.
“Hm, jour shirt? I presume the Medic wasn’t as organized as he claims?” He exhaled, seemingly not put off by the silence. The woman shrugged and nodded. It was a very quiet showdown, the two most similar classes staring each other down in an attempt to pinpoint who they were.
Spy did have an alternative reason for his impromptu invitation. She was likely able to copy classes, he wanted to see how far that went. He wanted to see how smart she was, how far could he or anyone else push her buttons.
The masked mercenary stood swiftly, gesturing for her to follow him. It's not like he had a lot of clothes for her considering his expensive taste, but based on the fact she'd hadn't changed it meant one of two things: either she didn't have any other clothes or she was insane and enjoyed the bloodied shirt look. Based on what he's read so far, it was more than likely to be the first option.
Taking it upon herself, she stomped to get his attention. The other turned with a neutral look of curiosity. She began to mouth a sentence.
‘Do you know sign language?’
His eyebrows raised a fraction and he took on a far more intrigued face.
“I am afraid I do not understand, but I can read lips.” He turned back towards her fully. “Where is the little machine the Texan told us about?”
‘I did not have time to grab it’ She was mouthing her words in a very pronounced way, trying to make her movements as clear as possible. She kind of wishes she had her device, but she is glad Engineer had mentioned this skill of Spy’s the day prior.
“Bien sûr-” He scowled for a second. He would have liked to know if it worked similar to a cloaking watch or a disguise kit. But whatever, he would have to be patient. Just like everyone else he gathered she was secretive, but he also noticed how open she'd been with people thus far. “Medics doing as well?” He waited for another response.
She nodded her head and mouthed that Scout had come to get her. Mimic was careful not to add many details on her personal thoughts about anyone. Scout was very hopped up on energy obviously and seemed very intrusive. Also seems like the type to flirt with anything with a pulse, potentially not even that's mandatory. Spy on the other hand is illusive, but also a flirt, which Mimic didn't like in the slightest. They seemed far too similar in all the wrong ways.
Spy seemed to find that a satisfactory answer, which Mimic appreciated. He turned back around while Mimic crossed her arms, he was looking through a drawer. Taking in the rest of the room, the woman took a step or two back.
With an old looking button up shirt in hand, the other Merc turned back around. She furrowed her brows in discontent and discomfort. There was no way in absolute hell she was going to willingly take that, water exists for a reason.
Mimic is slowly coming to decide she didn't like spy, no wonder pretty much everyone seemed to be distant with the man. He took on a much softer neutral facial expression and began to speak with a friendlyish tone.
“It iz an option if you wish, up to you to accept ze offer.” This was getting progressively weirder, Mimic turned her body defensively and asked a ‘why’ wordlessly.
“Ah well, I am not expecting nothing in return madamemoselle. Zhis is a truce in hopes to receive a favor from you.” He responded truthfully. This was his slow and steady. Don’t crowd, this is simply a bridge to get her to trust him just a little bit more. She held her stance but didn't move further away. A single eyebrow raise and a squint was all Spy needed to continue.
“Every Homme dégénéré in zhis base iz curious, and that does include moi. So, I am simply asking for an hour of your time. As you have already established I can read your lips, so what do you have to lose?” He spoke calmly, hand still outstretched. Mimic found this weird, he was lending her a shirt? How at all did that equate to a conversation, and when did he expect this to happen?
“I will not push for anything, but I wish nothing more than to get to know you. As well, zhat can happen at your leisure. But I do believe the sooner the better, oui?” He cocked his head in understanding. He could tell she was debating it, and he couldn't lie he would like to be the first to have the privilege of understanding. And after knowing the bushman had a conversation to himself was offputting, especially since the similarities of her and himself. Sniper was far more likely to pick her apart when he could to eliminate the idea of a second Spy class.
Mimic on the other hand, did not like how clear the man was trying to psychoanalyze her. So far she didn't think he'd given a good enough answer to say yes, and believe her, she wanted to say no so bad. The only thing actually holding her back is this is a teammate that she will likely have to copy or kill the doppleganger version of. Also, she kind of wanted that shirt.
With an annoyed sigh, she straightened and grabbed the shirt. God she hated this, a part of her had to remind herself how she's out of jail now, just nod and go along with it. Realistically what was the worst to happen? She wasn't going to talk or anything so she was safe enough. Her brows fell in defeat and her mouth fell into an almost invisible scowl.
Spy however, was thriving in his complacency and satisfaction.
As the two stood in silence, Mimic debated all life choices that got her here, and Spy noticed the anger radiating off of her. Outside, Scout was shouting about something, taking away from the moment the two mercenaries were having. The spy presumed it was heavy getting yelled at given the repeated ‘fat’ insult.
Mimic on the other hand blinked in mild disbelief and whipped her head towards the door.
“Oh mon dieu.” Spy dragged a hand down his face as his expression returned to one of general disdain. “Je suis entouré d'idiots.”
The man walked past Mimic and towards the door, pulling it open with a disappointed glare. Scout didn't stop his rambling. Mimic followed and stepped around Spy into the hallway, still holding the shirt.
“I do not need to be criticized, I am perfect. Heck, I'm da fastest here! Why does everybody always make fun of me!?” Scout defended himself in an argument Mimic didn’t catch. Scout looked between the 3 people standing around him.
“Little Scout is not listening.” Heavy said with an exasperated tone, crossing his arms. God he was large and very imposing. Mimic made a mental note not to bother him, she didn't want to be punched by the guy… or worse. She didn't want to find out.
“Listenin’ to wat!? Screw the gun! I don’t even need it! I’m just.. Uh.. Showin’ off ma skills! Who needs a gun anyway, you go round punchin’ people too!” Scout defended once more. Mimic was now more confused? Heavy blinked, glancing down at his arms and back to Scout.
“You are twig, is like being punched by baby.” Heavy responded, a smile almost twitching on his face. Clearly the man amused himself, and frankly he wasn't wrong. Even mimic had more meat to her arms, but it's not like he was all bone? She almost wanted to see him get into a fight just so she could accurately make fun of him.
Scout went to speak again, clearly offended and about to spew some defense before Spy spoke up.
“Scout, you have a gun for a reason. You would do less damage zhan a singular toothpick.” Mimic had to stifle a silent laugh, a smile nearly appearing on her face as well.
“Hey! It aint like you any bettah! You the scrawniest here! You jus dress up as someone else and stab, that don't take skill like I have!” Scout threw his hands out as he nearly yelled at the man next to Mimic. His eyes flicked to her, she raised a brow.
“Like like, Mim’s comm’on. Admit it, I'm probably the most skilled here right? Tell em! Er uh, nod or something I dunno. You saw me runnin’ earlier! An an, those punches you saw!” The man rambled, looking at Mimic desperately. Scout, at least in his head, decided she obviously had to side with him.
She looked between the 3 men, 2 of which waited for her to respond.
She mimicked cocking a gun and shooting it, then tilted her head in questioning at the other. Scout deflated before waving around almost manically.
“Dude! I thought we was friends! You watched me throw punches!” his eyes flicked between Heavy and Mimic for a while.
“You heard zhe woman. Now stop with your whining, garçon idiot.” Spy rolled his eyes, voice dripping with annoyance only saved for a child. He turned back on his heels, have a departing nod of formality to Mimic, and returned back into the room.
“Fix gun.” Heavy said simply with a sigh. “You are good with gun, maybe bat.” The giant of a man tried to reason with the other. Mimic tilted her head to the side in curiosity. “Scout broke scatter gun.” Was all that was provided as an answer.
Scout began to protest once more, actually hurting Mimics ear drums in the process. She glared at the boy for a moment before waving for his attention. Both men paused their argument and turned attention towards her. She gestured down the hall and mimicked the gun once more.
“Is little Mimic asking to see gun?” Heavy spoke in an attempt to decode her charades, to which mimic nodded pretty simply.
“Why? It broke? Engie said hed fix it later or somethin, I dunno I wasn't paying attention.” Scout shrugged but Mimic insisted. He have her a look of confusion and looked back towards Heavy, who just shrugged.
“Alright I guess, comm’on it’s in his workshop I think. Although he might kill me for bothin’ him, so you gotta go get it.” Scout began to walk down the hallway in the opposite direction. Mimic followed calmly and Heavy trailed behind them. She looked at Heavy when Scout mentioned not being able to go in there, Heavy also agreed with Scout that not a lot of people could go in there without being yelled at.
So apparently she was right, Engineer doesnt let people in. She thought back to her first interaction with him alone and how he brought her in there. She gave Heavy a confused look.
“The engineer does not like to be interrupted. Mimic is also engineer, da?” he asked simply, to which she cocked her head and pondered if she would consider herself one.
“Well ya make tech, right mims?” Scout also turned his head to look at the newest class. She shrugged in half agreement. She works on machinery sometimes, so maybe by their standards she would be considered one?
“Yeah and dontcha ‘Mimic’ other classes? So ya know how to do everythin’ probably.” Scout assumed, and Heavy agreed. None of them knew what she was good at. They all had theories but at the end of the day, they won't know until they see her on the field.
After a few minutes they reach the workshop. The door is closed but not locked. Scout recommended not knocking as Engineer may tell them off immediately, instead suggesting that she just walk in and grab the gun, which Scout said was on his main workbench if he hadn't already moved it.
So, with a breath she opened the door and stepped in. It took exactly 10 seconds for the Texan to whip his head around. Mimic instinctively shrunk down on herself, not exactly wanting to anger the man out the gate. He opened his mouth for a second but closed it, setting down what he was working on and turning to fully face her.
“Mimic? Whatcha doin’ here?” He questioned. He didn't sound nearly as mad as the other two suggested he would be.
Engineer sat in silence for a second before she pointed at the scattergun that was discarded next to him. He glanced at it then back at her, standing this time.
“Yah? It aint fixed yet. If Scout sent ya I swear to all things holy-” his voice grew deeper as he spoke, little hints of anger rising in his voice before Mimic shook her head. She pointed to herself instead.
“Whatdda gettin’ at? If scout didnt send you whatcha here for? Not that I mind-” The man stopped himself and cleared his throat. She pointed at the gun then herself once more. “You want it? Wait, are you tryna fix it?”
Mimic nodded then took a confident step forward. Engineer, even under his goggles, looked confused. She pointed to the top of her arm where her watch typically sat. He recalled the tech and realized she probably knew what she was doing. With a wave over to the bench, he sat back down.
“Go for it, It would actually be great to have somethin’ taken off my plate. I got whatever ya need in this ol’ room for ya.” He sat back down and enthralled himself into to project once more.
Mimic grabbed the broken gun, inspected it, and sat down on the floor and got to work.
Here is chapter 4! This is the scout centric chapter. Mimic doesn’t know how to feel about anything yet, but also doesn’t like how much people want to know her-
Gimme a follow or go check out my A03! Feel free to harass my ask box!
There was no real consensus on what everyone thought about Mimic, she was an interesting character. Only a few people have been able to have ‘conversations’ with her, but it was worth the reminder she’d only been there for a day at best. For as nonchalant as most of the classes want to act, they all wanted to know more.
Scout, for one, was ecstatic when he realized that the new girl liked to run. Frankly he was happy to have learned anything at all about her. So when he had to leave her to the Doctor he was disappointed to say the least. He would have much rather run around the base a couple times with her than imagine the woman being cut open by a borderline psychopath.
Pacing around his own room filled with various trinkets and trophies, Scout lost himself in thought. So much as he hated it, part of him wanted to go ask Spy for advice but the chances of him being physically and verbally abused in some manner was far too high to risk it. He wasn't bad with girls at all! In fact, he was incredible with girls! But Scout wasn't oblivious enough to ignore the fact she was very clearly a secretive girl. Smart and able to read probably. Maybe he should go talk to Sniper? He’s had one interaction he very ominously mentioned, but didn't give any further details. It’s also only been 1 day, he can’t expect to know everything!
While the boy lost himself in thought and muttered to himself, Pyro noticed the open door and fast footsteps. It wasn't unlike Scout to be up pacing around or even talking to himself. So without so much as a knock, Pyro popped his head in and waved at the other Merc.
“Py? Do ya need somethin’ I’m kinda thinkin’ here.” Scout paused for no more than a second before resuming his steps. The firebug stepped in a little with their head tilted in questioning. “Like, I’m really thinkin’”
“You ain’t gonna leave me alone, are ya?” His voice rang off as a little exasperated, having to multitask thinking and walking was hard! Regardless, the pyromaniac nodded in response and mumbled some questions along the lines of ‘are you ok?’. Scout blinked before sitting back down on his bed.
“It’s nothin serious. New girl said she liked runnin’! I’m jus debain on asking her.” He shrugged, it really wasn't that deep. Well it kinda was that deep, Scout was just trying to focus on something for once.
The other mumbled again, about whether she was just with medic at the moment. Which, yes, Scout admitted but everyone is used to Medic performing on them then getting right back at it! But realistically she’d probably turn down an opportunity to run around after the respawn debrief. Noticing Scout's silence, Pyro filled the room with more mumbling. They asked when she was getting out, waving their hands around in an animated show.
The speedster jumped at that, hopping up with even more energy.
“Your right py’ I’ll go help her after dealing with Medic, I will literally have to be her favorite then!” Pyro swears there were actually stars in his eyes as the guy ran out the room. They stood still in the empty room, deciding to go find Engineer now that Scouts been preoccupied.
Scout on the other hand was jogging through the halls, passing a very hungover Demo and a clearly sleep deprived Engie in the process. He didn't pause through, he didn't want to miss her.
Mimic was taking slow footsteps out the door, still a little pained by the surgery she just endured. The blood soaking her shirt was also not that enjoyable, but on the bright side it didn't seem like he bothered with her back which meant he didn't see the implant. Its not like Mimic cared all that much about them knowing about her incarceration (not that she wanted to talk about it) but she under no circumstance wanted them to know about her primary weakness. The less they knew, the better and the less likely they are to hang her or something.
The door was heavy and she was still feeling groggy enough that it required a little bit of effort. The medic gave her a goodbye but she mostly ignored it as she assumed it was in German considering she didn't recognize the sound. Mimic had gathered that at least 2 of the Mercs were bilingual, Medic with German and Spy with French (if not more, he seems like the type). She technically knew American Sign Language but that was the extent of her knowledge. And of course, because this world seems to hate her, no one knows it.
She blinked a couple times to adjust to the new light out in the hallways before someone called out to her.
“Mim’s! Ova here!” Scout slowed to a normal pace, somehow managing to time this perfectly, Mimic senses this will be a recurring theme. She turned towards her coworker.
“I jus wanted to check up on ya! You in any pain? Doc didn't do ya in too hard did he? He has a track record of goin’ overboard.” He asked quickly, tone wreaking of urgency that wasn't even there. Mimic took a half step back as the man got closer, seeming to be a little too excited. She blinked as Scout stopped a couple feet away, throwing out a few sorrys before waiting for a response. Mimic slowly shook her head no, cautious.
Scout didn't pick up on her uneasiness and continued. “There’s nothin’ to do today, so uh-” he trailed off as he thought for a second about what to continue with. Mimic crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “-You wanna get some food real quick? You probably gotta go set up yer loadout or somethin’ but ya know foods are important. My Ma used to beat that through my head.”
Mimic cut him off with a stomp, an unimpressed look crossed over her face as she rolled her eyes with a nod. She did have a list of things to do; Fix her Spine, get her gear set up, get basic essentials set up, and as much as she loathes to do so, talk to everyone at least once. But she was hungry. Something that’s starting to soil Mimic's mood is the impending realization they aren't going to let her recluse back into her habits, every single person is going to bother her to high hell until they eventually get bored.
Mimic really hopes they get bored soon.
Scout was still staring at her after she caught his rambling and nodded in agreement. Mimic is choosing to ignore the weirdly romantic implications of immediately asking to grab food, but in all honestly she didn't care enough. Plus, she reasoned, the guy is probably just trying to get to know her just like Sniper or Medic. The man began walking down the hallway and motioned for her to follow.
“So I’m da Scout, by the way. I don’t actually remember if I introduced myself.” He puffed his chest up and pointed to himself confidently “I’m part of Offence, da fast one who shoots everyone in da face! No one on dis team, and I mean no one, can beat dis guy!” He laughed to himself as he mimed punching people in front of himself then pointed to himself triumphantly. Mimic hated to admit it, but it was a little tiny bit funny, so she smiled still with an eyebrow cocked.
The pair walked down the hall quickly, not that they had anywhere to be except a kitchen, but the two were just fast on their own. If Scout had to guess, she might actually be the second fastest on the team. Not many, especially Mimic, would think she would actually enjoy the recounting of tales from a man as self centered as Scout. But here she is, finding amusement in his theatrics.
“Oh oh! An dis one time-” he started, recounting yet another match to her “-I found this super shiny frying pan! It looked all golden an stuff, but it fell down somewhere an’ I couldn't find it again.” The runner huffed and glanced back at the other. Mimic mimed spray painting a pan with a devious smile, Scout found this hilarious. Frankly the volume of the laugh kind of caught the Mimic off guard, but it nearly took the boy out.
“OH- Oh my GOD. Mim’s you are a freakin’ genius.” He laughed out as they both paused to allow the scout a little bit of breath, she then took this opportunity to mime whacking scout with a frying pan. This restarted the cycle.
…
After a solid 25 minutes of Mimic making a joke and Scout proceeding to lose it for reasons Mimic couldn't explain, they finally sludged their way into the kitchen. It was a decent sized room, honestly she expected much worse. There were counters an island coupled with things like a dishwasher and fridge. As well, there was a table that held 10 chairs. Upon first glance Mimic didn't think much of it as 10 classes logically = 10 chairs; but upon further inspection the 10th chair was both a different style indicating that it was recently added, and was taller. Her eyes flicked over the chair for a millisecond before turning back towards the fridge Scout was in front of.
“The big guy, Heavy, left you some dinna last night. Probably expected you to come out later and eat. Nothin fancy but the guy’s a good cook.” Scout asked whether or not she wanted the food, and after getting a nod he went to heat it up. Mimic leaned back onto the counter behind him and crossed her arms.
It was stew, which was a good thing because Scout cannot operate a stove for anything more than maybe boiling water, if he’s lucky. After turning on the heat he moved again.
“You want somethin’ to drink? Got water or pop if you’re that type.” He asked, grabbing a can for himself. She squinted her eyes at the word pop, clearly indicating her opinions without a word.
“Oh your one of those, it's pop Mim sorry to tall ya.” A borderline cocky smile spread across his face the second he was able to attach to anything that annoyed her. With one motion, she flipped him off. After her oh so kind gesture of love, she held up a single finger indicating she wanted water. Scout double check, but got a glass for her regardless.
The pair began messing around once more until the soup was done. Scout poured into a bowl and handed it to her, frankly Mimic was shocked that the buffoon in front of her could actually use a stove but what does she know? She took the bowl with a thankful nod. The soup looked like a basic broth with veggies and some beef of some kind, she stared at it for a moment. It smelled so much richer, so much more like actual food. It was a crushing thing, to realize you've been missing food. With a sigh, she glanced back at the table
“Oh yeah, Engie found an old chair that was a little higher up for ya, ya know. Cause your short.” The grin returned full force as mimic deadpanned and turned on her heels. She took a couple steps and sat down on the chair that was unfortunately specifically pulled out for her. Scout continued to tease the woman. After sitting down, she kicked the guy. He let out a small ‘ow’ shout before laughing.
Mimic held up the spoon and angled it so the skinniest side was facing the two of them, then pointed at the scout. This, unschockingly, got an annoyed pout. The guy was very animated, to a somewhat unsettling degree. However, that made him easy to read according to Mimic, which soothed her a little more.
He continued to talk while she ate, but Mimic wasn't exactly paying attention. She’s been getting along with everyone, that scares her. Ashley on her own is still a personable character, she's charismatic and likeable; at least she thought. After her descent mentally in her early 20’s, those traits seemed to slowly decline even right before she went mute. That being said, she's also never been alone with people she likes. Not that she likes anyone in the base, she’s neutral at best, but this was strange.
She'd figure that it’ll go away once people stop trying to figure her out.
After some time spaced out, someone else came into the room and called for Scout. He left with a ‘See ya round!’ leaving the new class to sit alone. She stared out into space, the empty wall in front of her. If she can help it, it's going to stay empty and quiet.
Heavy, who’d actually been the one to go grab scout, stood in the doorway for a second longer. At least she’s eating, that was one of the big worries he had. Frankly, Heavy could understand why she was mute, why she may be a little more standoffish to the team at the beginning, but he also knew ostracizing her wouldn't help either. She seemed like a solid character, so Heavy saw no reason to treat her differently over the rest of the team. He debated saying something, asking if she liked the soup, but decided against it. The spy was right, crowding her wouldn't do anyone good.
Not much longer, Mimic found herself wandering the halls and listening to chatter between rooms. She came upon a nicer looking room that smelled heavily of smoke. Her brows furrowed, but as she turned to leave her curiosity to die, a voice called out from inside the room.
Here is chapter two of my TF2 fanfic! I’ve haven’t gotten around to working on chapter 3 but the way this is gonna work is for the next few chapters, Mimic will be personally speaking with each Merc. Next is Medic but if anyone has a request on who’s next lemme know!
Mimic declined to eat dinner with the crew which was a little annoying for those who usually don't join but decided to go for the sake of learning more about the new girl. She chose to sit in her room. It was a weird thing, to have a bed that wasn't surrounded by grey bricks and rot and mold and whatever else they didn't clean. Sure it was a nicer prison because that's where all high security folks go, but that didn't make it NOT a prison. The black haired woman sighed, sitting up and looking out a window to the right. It was late, dark clouds and a navy blue sky covering the desert outside. She rubbed the window relishing in the feeling of cold glass and not bars. Years she spent locked in a cell for something that was barely her fault, but that's behind her now. So long as she proves herself useful, so long as she keeps the job and they don't decide to send her back.
Outside a few rooms, arguments and yelling bounced off the walls like offbrand bouncy balls. Even those who usually are quiet or don't even attend are adding slights to the conversation. Even so, every class seemed to mutually agree not to talk about the new guy just in case she decided to walk into the kitchen. Well, all classes except one.
“Ok Ok wait why aint we talkin’ bout new girl? We have a whole new class and she didn't even come to eat dinner.” Scouts' accents cut through the small ocean of voices. Somehow it was enough to shut up about 90 percent of the men in that room. Demoman sighed in defeat while Engineer rubbed his neck.
“Well scout, she’s new and it don't seem like she does a whole lotta socializin’. There's no need to crowd her.” With a casual tone, the Texan spoke to the Bostonian. He seemed personally offended and was going to open his mouth until Spy also spoke up.
“She iz not to be cornered, let ze poor girl get comfortable you insolent boy.” The blu Spy rubbed the bridge of his nose while a couple of the other classes agreed.
“Yea, she's new lad. Mute if I have to guess?” Demo shrugged while tipping a hand toward the Engineer.
“She did confirm that yes, but from what she told me she CAN speak just chooses not to.” That simple piece of information personally offended Scout.
“Well then why’s she not talkin? She think we're gonna blow her up just for a little joke?” The cocky bostonian waved a hand around while Engineer shrugged. Sniper grumbled a little before adding his two cents.
“Well the women likely gotta reason, quit bein’ annoying bout it you bugga. I think we’d be much betta off not harassin’ her.” He took a long swig from a glass of water before standing to leave. Frankly the Sniper didn't care either way, just so long as she wasn't as much of a pain as the rest of his team. Don't get him wrong he doesn’t hate any of them (save for spy) but boy could it get loud sometimes.
Scout grumbled a couple of various disapproving comments but ultimately moved on upon realizing literally none of the team agreed with him.
“She is part of team just like you, it does not matter why she does not speak, we respect anyway.” Heavy, ever the voice of reason, spoke up with enough finality to shut everyone up for at least a few milliseconds. Scout finally resigned to shutting up and eating his food, realizing this was not an argument he was going to be able to win. Everyone returned to their normal arguments and conversations.
Mimic, who was now bored just sitting in her room, decided to explore on her own accord. No one was around to ask her questions and she assumed everyone was eating. She wanted to go outside, something that was a rarity back in the prison she was in. She was considered a dangerous convict so most of the time she was alone. The psychological profile she'd built for herself was hefty enough that even the more experienced professionals didn't want to talk to her for longer than 15 minutes. But that was something that always pissed Ashley off, she wanted someone to shut up and listen to her. Nothing that had occurred in her life was distinctly her fault. Whatever, she thought and went outside through a side door in one of the halls the engineer had shown her.
Sniper walked outside with a mug of coffee. Nevermind it was late, nevermind it was past dinner. He had things to do, like cleaning his guns. Plus, perhaps, a little bit of anxiety surrounding a new member. No one had commented on it yet but they hadn't gotten a new member in years probably, so this was unexpected for one but also in his professional opinion, unnecessary. Each class covered an entire broad skillset and even if they could overlap, like medic’s medigun and Engineers dispensers, it still allowed for each class to be sure of itself. Sniper wasn't an idiot, he could gather what a “Mimic” class could do: mimic. He was still hung up on what she could mimic exactly, he really didn't like the idea of another Spook sneaking around, especially with RED also having their own version. Despite this, Sniper didn't hold any animosity towards the girl, hell he could tell there were several Mercs that were ecstatic about a woman (cough cough Scout cough cough). He’d gather information when he could, not that he at all expected her to give any information willingly, especially being a mute.
The night was cold, but nice to be in. Usually if it was cold enough the convicts couldn't go outside much just for the sake of health, they were dressed in probably the thinnest cloth known to mankind so its not like she minded. But now dressed in cargo pants and a black turtle neck with a lightning bolt emblem on the side, she was much warmer. Mimic through back to Miss Pauling and how kind she'd been, despite the tonal shift when talking to the team. If anything she seemed understanding, which led Mimic to believe that she’d read over her case details before being convicted. Honestly if that is the case, she respects the woman a lot more than she'd initially thought, especially with the addition of giving her clothes.
It was nicer having something thicker on her back, the implant could be tender without the steel covering that was plated on top. It had broken in prison and Ashley didn't have the means to fix it so she had to stay out of the way of anything that could harm it. The mechanical implant was directly connected to nerves located in her spine and attached to the spinal cord closer to the base of her brain. It was used to improve her balance and help with endurance; she was much less susceptible to pain aside from a direct hit to the uncovered spine. It was very tender even at the moment, so she'd have to work on remaking that when she had the chance. Strolling the sand surrounding the base, she’d accidentally caught the attention of a certain class member high up in a tower nest.
Sniper raised a brow when he noticed movement around the area. For a moment, he mostly expected it to be a RED spy but the person was wearing too much blue. Upon closer look it was the new class, mimic, walking around. Curiosity got the best of him and he scoped in. She was just walking around kicking sand absentmindedly. A part of him debated going to talk to her. She'd had taken notice of him yet so he really could just step back and pretend he didn't see her. The man thought for a few moments about how this would help him in any way, did he really need to get up and go all the way down there? She clearly wanted to be alone given the avoidance of dinner, and he could respect that. But he also knew he had to work with her and it was bothering him a little more than it should not knowing her skillset. He grumbled to himself and began a descent down to ground level.
Sand was only entertaining for so long to someone who suffered from chronic boredom. The cold little bits of nature whisped around in the wind as the newest class kicked it all around. She was tired and would probably go back inside soon, it’s not like there's a ton to explore at that moment. As she turned to walk into the building, a voice coupled with the light footsteps called out from behind her. Turning she was met face to face with one of the tallest people she’d ever seen. Look, Mimic knew she was short but that didn't stop her from being butthurt anytime someone towered over her.
“You didn't come to dinna’, why's that?” Sniper, apparently not the type of guy to beat around the bush, spoke to her with a conviction reserved for criminals. She knew that he didn't know, but wow this guy was distrustful.
She shrugged, not really knowing what to do considering she didn't speak and he seemed impatient.
“Eh yeah forgot you can talk-” he rubbed the back of his neck “I mean the pyro doesn't speak like we do, but they still make noise.” He continued, looking back at the shorter woman. She cocked her head to the side for a moment before changing her mind and typing on the little console on her wrist. Sniper furrowed his own brows at the sight of this, hed noticed the gadget but he hadn't been 100% sure what it did. In fact he didn't like the idea of it being a cloke device, but it's looking less and less like a possibility.
“I don’t feel comfortable speaking around anyone, don’t feel bad.” She offered an awkward smile as the automated voice rang out. Sniper looked taken aback for a moment before speaking.
“Do ya use that to communicate? Seems pretty roundabout to me, no offense.” He crossed his arms and peered at the device as he spoke, to which she shrugged once more.
“Yes, but I rarely feel the need to speak, so this is a supplement for when it's necessary” The automated device was specifically designed to make sure it never sounded similar to her own voice. It was so much easier to sit back and observe, less dangerous that way and it always meant you were the smartest person in the room. Plus, it was a moot point that she was literally caught and arrested because her voice was clear on an old security camera, so it's been a little anxiety-inducing to speak anymore.
“I guess that makes enough sense. Just a little unexpected.” Sniper signed which gained a small shoulder bounce from the woman, almost akin to a laugh. She cocked her head at the man and he stared onward, forgetting what he was initially what he wanted to say. Finally he landed on “So why’re you out here huh? It’s chilly.” He stated the obvious to make this as not awkward as possible. Who knew throwing a social wreck who didn't like talking to people and a woman who literally doesn't speak into a conversation was going to be an uncomfortable experience. At least Engineer tried to fill the silence, Mimic thought.
She shrugged AGAIN and gestured vaguely at the surrounding land and the building behind her.
“Explorin’? Did ol’ hardhat not give ya a good enough tour?” Sniper asked, and an amused smile almost creeped up on his face but he dropped it before it could form. The black haired girl shook her head with another silent laugh, she just pointed to herself and faked a cocky smile for the bit.
Sniper finally laughed at this one, letting his guard down for about a millisecond, subconsciously deciding she wasn't going to be a danger to him, nor annoying.
“Oh so special mate? Gotta look for yaself? Guess I can get behind that one, never know what any of those idiots may miss.” he agreed with her, thinking back to when he was first brought on. He wasn't a talkative guy either, choosing to figure everything out on his own, it's only right not to judge the new hire for the same thing.
She raised a brow with a smile at the word idiots, cocking her head in a playful but questioning manner. She didn't have any arms crossed and nothing about her seemed ‘on guard’. She was comfortable enough to mess with this guy.
“Oh every bloke in that building is an idiot, that's why I stick it out here!” Sniper chuckled once more before Mimic dawned a playful offended face, turning away from the guy as if to cold shoulder him. It was a playful interaction that frankly neither party would have expected, but it was nice. The two classes seemed to get along and the more sniper interacted with the woman, the more he wanted to know about her. He was able to gather enough: she was a smart person as he assumed she designed the mechanism on her wrist, definitely had a sense of humor which was nice, an independent woman who preferred to fend for herself, and someone who was unexpected or difficult to read. The last part was a little bit of a negative, but at the end of the day Sniper knew he'd known this person for literally less than a day, so it's not shocking he doesn't have a perfect read on her.
The two were continuing to mess around, laughing as Mimic mocked the comment the sniper had made. It was a good interaction, frankly the man was refreshing. That is until a loud bang sounded through the nearby air, a door slammed open at top speed by none other than the soldier himself. Mimic blinked onwards in mild shock for a few seconds before straightening like she'd looked before Sniper had approached her. Now the man couldn't explain it, but there was a minuscule pang of disappointment as she returned to her neutral state, but he wrote it off as realization that now he had to deal with Solly’s antics.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT HERE? MIMIC WHY DID YOU NOT ATTEND DINNER?” The loud American man shouted despite it being like 10 at night. Mimic stood for a few seconds, doing the same gesture around herself that she did for Sniper.
“The girl was explorin’ an I was just talkin’ to her.” Sniper filled in with a similar neutral tone, Mimic nodded along with this.
The soldier began to open his mouth but was cut off by a stumbling mess of limbs following behind him.
“Solly wat on gods green earth- Oh, hi Sniper and Mimic.” The demoman stumbled out behind the other, slurring his words and bracing himself on the door. He seemed to question himself as he said her name but stuck with the term. The one eyed man, which Mimic only really noticed just now, flicked his eyes between the 3 surrounding him.
“OH YES, DEMO YOU ARE HERE TO HELP ME INTERROGATE THE NEWBIE.” commanded the Soldier which only gained a confused “what” out of the demolitions expert. Mimic flicked her head between the three men in some mix between confusion and exhaustion. Soldier, without much fanfare, turned back to Mimic and began questioning her at random. Unshockingly the first question was if she was American.
Mimic slowly nodded towards the waiting man, to which he shouted in vague triumph. She immediately got the idea he was some weird mega patriot, which was a little funny considering she hated the country, but that wasn't important.
“Yeesh Solly couldya tone it down a noch ay? It’s late.” Demo lazily slurred as he wished a bottle filled with something around. Mimic raised her brow at the bottle. Sniper shook his head with a warning “don’t”.
For a few moments more there was some back and forth between the explosive men, but it eventually ended in Demo convincing the other to leave her alone, which she appreciated. She figured he liked alcohol, maybe she'd get him some as a thank you gift.
She was brought out of her thought by a sigh from the sniper. She raised a brow and looked back at him.
“I told ya already, idiots, all of them.” she silently snickered again at the joke, or what she assumed was a joke. She saw Engineers workshop, so there's no way he genuinely believed the man to be an idiot? Whatever, it wasn't her problem but it was amusing.
“Well I can guess ya probably tired, I assume they showed ya the room you're in?” He questioned with a general gesture towards the door. Mimic nodded calmly, but pointed at him questioningly.
“Me?” Sniper raised an eyebrow and copied the pointing gesture at himself, she then nodded. “Ah well, I got some things to take care of, but uh- i’ll be ‘round tomorrow." A cool shrug followed and Mimic nodded in understanding, sending a wave behind her as she walked back towards the door they were just ambushed out of.
She strolled back inside without looking back, heading to her room with a new found twinge of comfortability from the positive interaction. Sniper however, stood in the same spot for a few moments more. He thought about the girl for a minute before realizing he neglected the very reason he went down to talk to her: what was she good at? He face palmed and turned on his heels back to his camper
I did all of the formatting in my phone, god save me
Ok so I am deeply obsessed with this game, so I am writing an entire OC x TF2 fanfic. This is the Character I've named the mimic, but she's written to copy skills so frankly your able to insert yourself. Anyway TW does include prison and a surgical implant.
Anyway, Enjoy!
Ashley stood in front of the purple dressed woman. The past few days had been rather interesting given her standards. Sure prison life isn't exactly the most exciting thing to do with your life but being hired from said prison to be a mercenary? Now that was a little more exciting.
“So, I’m going to be taking you in to meet the rest of your team.” Ashley's new boss spoke. Her name was Miss Pauling (first name Florence but technically Ashley wasn't meant to know that.) She nodded, straightening her back just slightly to meet the other people she was meant to be working with. Hired as part of the BLU team, she was to serve as the team's “mimic” similar to The Spy but having the ability to use the other classes' skills. A support class who aimed to be a backup for a given class for a short period of time. She knew a little about everything and apparently was ‘compatible’ with whatever the ‘respawn’ machine was. She wasn't 100% sure what that meant but she figured it wouldn't take long for her to find out.
Miss Pauling hummed awkwardly at Ashley's wordless response.
“Okkkk then. They're all a little uh.. Let's say a bit different but I feel you'll get along well.” The woman nodded to herself, glanced down at a clipboard in her hands, and pushed open the door leading to what Ashley could only assume was a common room. She’d been given very little information regarding her coworkers but once she's given the ability to access her tech it won't take her long to get the information she wants. She stood in the doorway with her back straight ready to meet the team.
“I’m sure at least some of you know why I gathered you?” All 9 men turned their attention to Pauling standing on the opposite end of the room.
“Oui, a new hire?” a man wearing a blue mask responded. Ashley made the mental guess that it was this team's spy. She eyed the man for a split second before taking a step forward into the room. Apparently they had not been expecting a woman.
“Woah Woah Woah wait? We got a girl on our team now? Sweet!” a slightly taller and skinnier man shot upwards upon seeing Ashley make her way into the room, this was quickly met with a smack to the back of the head. “Now now Scout, treat the lady with respect.” A man wearing a hardhat responded, standing and making his way over to Ashley. He held out his hand with a kind smile that matched his deep southern accent “Hey there sugar, I’m this team here’s Engineer." Ashley blinked for a second and took his hand with a respectful nod. It was solid, far more solid than an actual human hand. Before the Engineer even had the opportunity to say anything, Miss Pauling continued.
“She will be the BLU team's Mimic, she's uh… not exactly one for words.” The woman turned to look at the Mimic who simply waved to the group in front of her.
“What? We gotta communicate with someone who can't talk? How the hecks that supposta work." The ‘Scout’ spoke up once more, Engineer whipped his head around rather fast before a deeper, accent thick voice spoke up “Little mimic is part of team da? We will treat her like team.” The man who the voice belongs to is at least quintuple the size of her leaving her to assume it's this team's Heavy weapons guy. While Ashley did not like being called little, it certainly was appropriate here.
“So we got 10 classes now aye? Does the RED team have theirs?” Another voice popped up on the other side of the room. The Scottish man waved his bottle outwards in some form of drunken gesture.
“Ah, not yet. Which leads me to my second point. There's a temporary ceasefire between teams while we finish hiring on the RED teams mimic, so no assignments until then.” Pauling spouted again. Ashley was silently relieved knowing she had some time to learn the team and what her purpose was going to be; Or more importantly how much she's going to get along with this team. So far it was a pretty aggressive hit or miss. On one hand some of them have been respectful, on another certain people came off as real rude– but it was going to take a lot more time for her to truly grasp their personalities. At the end of the day however, she was here for a job, not friends.
“THEN WE WILL TRAIN, MAGGOTS! WE HAVE BEEN GIVEN AN OPPORTUNITY AND WE SHALL TAKE IT!” It was probably not a good look for Mimic to jump but she certainly did, whoever that was is loud and she did not appreciate that. Pauling pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment, seemingly not bothered by the loud tone but more like she was about to explain physics to a child.
“Take some time, the new recruit will need some time to adjust after she… never mind.” After she got out of prison? The death penalty? The purple clad woman waved herself off, realizing she was about to reveal information that was deemed too personal to share. Ashley didn't really care, but she did appreciate the respect.
“NONSENSE! YOU THINK ALL THE GREAT AMERICAN SOLDIERS OF THE COUNTRY TAKE BREAKS?” Patriotic, Mimic thought. There was no point in asking where that guy was from. Using context clues she decided that was the probability of this team's Soldier, and if he wasn't she was quitting this job and going back to prison. He pointed in her direction “WE WILL MAKE YOU THE BEST RECRUIT THIS BEAUTIFUL COUNTRY HAS EVER SEEN!”
“You buffoon she just arrived, let ze woman settle in before bombarding her with your nonsense.” The same French man, the spy, spoke up from before. He scoffed in the patriotic Americans direction before turning his gaze to her. She felt like there was a spotlight magically summoned the second his eyes met hers. The Frenchman stood swiftly and made his way over, effectively waving off the engineer who was still standing next to her. “We welcome you to the team Mademoiselle.” He leans down and takes her hand, pressing it to his face momentarily before looking up. Ashley, who went from being punched weekly to now being kissed on the hand, blinks dumbly down at the man who was annoyingly smooth. He must have read the confusion and panic on her face because as he stood he smiled politely but with enough character for one to tell he likes messing with people.
“Nein nein, It would benefit from seeing how she reacts to pressure.” A thick German accent cut mimic out of her throughs, seeing a maniacal but weirdly genuine smile spread across the owner's face. He was wearing a lab coat with various medical gear on him so it was easy to assume this was the Medic. She turns towards him with a raised eyebrow. “Ja! Jou agree, don’t jou?” He spoke again with an even brighter smile.
“Doc we just established we’re lettin the girl get comfy first, let er’ rest.” A man wearing what she believed was some type of ‘cowboy’ hat spoke. His accent sounded Australian? Well he certainly didn't look the part. She’ll probably ask later.
“Vhas? I am simply offering!” The medic settled back into his seat on the couch before more voices began to argue back and forth. Someone in a fire resistance suit who she can only imagine is the Pyro waved at her, seeming not to want to engage in the team's bickering. She waved back with a tired smile before her boss caught her attention.
“I know they seem like a lot, but you get used to it, really. Just contact me if you need anything you can't ask any of them about. Good luck.” Miss Pauling spoke like this was the most normal thing in the world, which to be fair to her it was. Her boss gave a smile somewhere between reassuring and mildly terrified. She bid the team a good rest of their day and left without another word.
Mimic stood in front of her coworkers awkwardly. It was going to take her a lot of time to get used to actually being called Mimic as she had no intention of willingly telling them her full name. She rocked on her heels patiently before the Engineer spoke up again over the leftover arguing.
“Reckon we ought to give you a tour.” He smiled politely “Also wouldn't hurt to get away from the bickerin’.” he added quietly before he glanced to his right with a miniscule scowl. He looked back at Mimic who nodded in agreement. The southern man gestured for her to follow as he headed towards an offshoot hallway, leaving the other 8 to stew in whatever conversation they're having.
“Sorry about them by the way, none of us have always been the particularly calm type.” The Engineer began. She waved him off.
“Say? Can you speak and just choose not to or do you have some medical condition.” The mimic held up finder, indicating it was the first option. “So you can talk, got it. Now I know it ain't none of my business to know, but why is it that you don't talk IF you don't mind me asking." He was being respectful but it clearly didn't dawn on him she didn't have a way to communicate that. She thought for a moment while the southerner clearly realized his fumble. She attempted sign language but to no avail. “Yeah sorry darl’ don’t think any of us know sign language, though I do think Spy got a knack for lip reading.” He carried on the one sided conversation before landing on a hallway with various rooms for bunks. He leads her to her own, flicking on the light as Mimic strode in. A box of personal items was left on her bed, stuff she hadn't seen since her incarceration. Her gaze flicked back to Engineer who gestured towards the box with yet another smile, so she dug. Through her digging she found a watch looking device she'd designed years ago. Putting on the wrist item she powered it on and tapped away at the screen and an automated voice rang throughout the room.
“Now I can communicate.” Mimic looked proud of herself for a brief moment before looking back up to see a bewildered but impressed teammate.
“That’s- what is that?” He took a step forward in awe, mimic typed once more.
“A portable console used for basic communication, designed by yours truly.” The voice communicated exactly no emotion, but the sheer fact it was speaking at all enamored the engineer.
“That is incredible! Anythin’ else you got in that box of yours?” He peered beyond the woman towards the box like a kid expecting to get a puppy for Christmas.
“Some small projects, likely none of my bigger work.” The screen spoke simply. Despite Mimic's own lack of enthusiasm, the heardhatted man seemingly had enough for both. She was flattered however at how interested he seemed to be.
“How’s about I take you to my workshop and I’ll show you who your competen’ against.” He smiled with a different competitive lit, to which Mimic was 100% down. They both walked out of the room at a slightly quicker pace and down the hall to a larger room that smelled strongly of motor oil and smoke probably. They were surrounded by various boards with blueprints and gadgets scattered around the room. Walls of tools and equipment lined the room like a candy shop but for handymen. Apparently the awe that Ashley felt was palpable because the engineer dawned a cocky smile and turned towards her.
“Like whatcha see? I got anything under the sun and access to way more.” He sounded proud, pleased with the way that the Mimic was clearly impressed. She walked a few more steps into the room, stepping past a couple sentries with the caution of someone walking in a china shop. The footsteps behind her indicated that the Engineer was following her. She instinctively rubs a hand on her lower back, a mechanical implant laying under the skin. The black turtleneck she was wearing hid any trace of it and even she forgot it was there sometimes.
The implant was still there; what is essentially a mechanical cover for her spine felt of metal under cloth and fingers. She spent years designing the implant AND the tech she used to actually surgically put it in, not even mentioning the thousands she spent. Or stole, really depends on who you ask. The mimic lost herself in thought as she recalled the process.
“Are you alright over there?” The man's voice knocked her out of her stupor. She nodded firmly, turning her attention back towards the hardhatted southerner in front of her. The engineer went on giving her a pretty basic tour of his workshop though something told her that not a lot of people are allowed in.
As he very animatedly showed off a prototype dispenser the sound of latex waddled into the room. The Pyro waved happily and walked right up to the two of them. Maybe she’s wrong and people are allowed in…? Regardless, the fire wielding class seemed comfortable. With little fanfare they procured matches and handed her one. Mimic wasn't exactly sure what she expected speaking wise from them but the vague “Huddah Huddah!” from their mask was definitely not it. She cocked her head with a sideways smile as the Engineer stepped back up.
“Hey there firebug, you comin’ to say hi?” he asked calmly while Mimic stared at the match that was handed to her. The Pyro nodded happily once more with more muffled speech. Apparently the southerner was fluent in whatever they were speaking.
“Yeah M’ just given’ er a tour right now, she’s ‘parently a techie!” The engineer responded to Pyro who let out a pleased and intrigued noise. Mimic cocked her head at the man with curiosity, what did he think she did? Pyro caught her head tilt and mimicked it. She let out a small huff and a tiny smile, happy that she seemed to be getting along with the 2 members. While yes, she's not here for friends but she also didn't want them hating her. She didn't notice it, but from the side of her vision a much warmer smile appeared on the Engineer's face. Mimic seemed interested in holding whatever psudo-conversation they were having.
Beyond the doors of that workshop 3 classes still chatted away in the common room of the base. Solider, Scout, and Demoman discussed the team's addition, most of everyone else got too bored of the 3’s rambling and went their own ways.
“I can't believe we have a girl now!” Scout repeated for like a 5th time.
“Aye yes lad, we have a women's class now. We heard you the first several times you reminded us.” Demo, who is mildly annoyed by Scout at this point. Sure, adding a woman was not the first thing anyone expected, but frankly as long as she pulled her weight Demo did not care. Yeah sure he can admit she wasn't bad looking, but that certainly was not the top of his priority list at the moment. Scout on the other hand was thrilled at the idea of a chick on the team, not so thrilled she was well.. her?
“SHE BETTER BE READY TO FIGHT WITH THE AMERICAN SPIRIT!” The soldier was primarily worried about whether she could fight. They're paid killers, it would be a little counterproductive if she couldn't.
“Well she’s our ‘Mimic’ aye? She can probably hold her own in a fight.” Demo added. “Well yah, what? Does she just copy us? Is that all she’s good for?” Scout questioned. None of them were given a really good explanation of what she can do and none of them are patient enough to wait to find out. “And she can't talk! How we s’posta work with that?” The youngest of the team was at a loss, in his head this didn't make any sense.
“WELL IF SHE CAN COPY EVEN A FRACTION OF MY SKILL, THAN SHE WILL DO PERFECTLY FINE IN BATTLE.” Solider, who was also mildly tired of listening to Scout, piped up. Scout seemed to agree with this statement with a nod. Demo gave a hum in response before taking a swig of his scumpy.
“Lads, if the lass was hired, she canne probably hold ‘er own.” Shockingly he was being the most reasonable, and in his head it made sense. Demo didnt think mann co was going to hire a random woman on both teams for pure cannon fodder. Plus, with a class name like Mimic? Most classes had pretty self explanatory names, hell Demoman was pretty obvious what he did! So the Scott wasn't worried, yet the other 2 kept chatting on while demo just threw back skumpy until the voices were just buzzing in his ear.
Even further down the hall, Medic fiddled with his instruments while the Heavy sat on a stool with a book. Medic was mostly quiet after everyone dispersed since the girl had already walked off. He was curious about her, she seemed to have a good head on her shoulders despite being hired here. He let out a small sigh only to get a returned look from Heavy.
“Doktor?” He called out simply to his friend, looking up from his book with curiosity.
The Medic looked up to Heavy with a questioning hum. “Ja? Vhat is it?” The medic asked.
“You are thinking.” The Russian responded plainly, stating the obvious as bridge for medic to finish the conversation
The doctor adjusted his glasses for a short second and furrowed his brows further; he was thinking. The new addition to the team wasn't expected, and frankly he didn't see a reason as to why she was added. Nevertheless, she was a girl with secrets, Medic wanted to know what those were.
“Ve have a new class Herr Heavy, it iz only natural to be curious.” The German responded and turned back to fiddle with instruments. He wondered internally if she knew anything about medical, he thought since she was a ‘mimic’ class she HAD to know something. However, thinking about the rest of his team, he can't exactly expect much. Medic however did enjoy the prospect of a female team member, more experiments and if she was as crazy as Medic hoped, she’d help him.
Heavy stared onward at his friend wordlessly. He was also curious about her, but in retrospect everyone would be. This wasn't some life changing situation to him, they had a new team member and would treat her as such. He hummed and went back to reading, vaguely listening to Medics rambles.
The spy on the other hand was sitting in silence in his smoke room. A mimic was pretty self explanatory, but irregardless he didn't know how to feel about that. She was clearly mute and likely had the ability to use the skills of the rest of the team; did that include himself? Without knowing anything about her, he couldn't form a good opinion but a twinge of respect was still apparent in the back of his head. If she was as skilled as her name proveys, then he can already tell he’ll get along with the girl.
Now sidestepping the important through process for the less integral one, they have a woman class. Spy is well aware of the likelihood of various members flirting, he’s deciding on if he will be a part of that party. Who knows, it’s hinged on her skill level.
Sniper also sat wordlessly in a nest of his, cleaning a gun with relative ease as he lost himself in thought. A woman who had a name that likely meant to copy other classes. Does that mean she could aim? Snipe? Does she have a similar ability to spy? Is she a spook? Well he is aware she doesnt speak, which will be a blessing or a curse based on what class you ask. Scouts gonna hate the woman, he could already tell that. But she already seems to get along with the Engineer and Spy (for reasons he can't decode) seems to feel less hateful towards her.
The commonality between everyone in that base is curiosity, for one reason or another.
