Pun Fortress 2

Slice of Life - The Scout

Scout slammed his digital clock right after three loud high-pitched beeps that woke him up at 4 in the dark morning. Heaving a sigh, he forced himself to part from the heavy, warm covers and the soft, welcoming bed. His mouth stretch open to yawn as his arms reached out, stretching himself.

Ruffling his messy blonde-brown hair, Scout stepped into his light red slippers and walked towards his bedroom door. He first placed a hand against the wooden door and leaned on it, before slowly twisting the metal doorknob, silently praying that a squeak wouldn't break the dead silence of the night. Deftly, he shuffled out of the door and slowly closed his door.

Scout looked to the right, then to the left, then to the right again. The shadows cloaked him as he held his breath and glided across the corridor of bedrooms, nimble as a mouse. He then stopped, and peered past a wall, staying alert for any sign of life.

He silently exhaled as he treaded lightly across the room. Eyes narrowed, he kept looking behind him every now and then, as if the room was infested with spies and no one was to be trusted. With a last glance at the shadow-filled space behind him, he left and turned into a dark room.

Scout stood there at the foot of the entrance. He squeezed his eyes and sighed, staring into the lightless void before him.

A moment passed.

He reaches towards the side of the wall and pressed a switch. There was a soft click, and everything before him was illuminated with a bright, yellow light.

Scout smiled as he entered the base's kitchen.

Scout didn't waste a single second and immediately went to work. He knew exactly what he was looking for and where to find it. Shelves and cupboards were flung open and drawers were pulled, breaking the still silence with clunks and thunks. Scout placed a glass mixing bowl on a table and arranged the other required items. He pushed a box of flour across the marble table, threw a cluster of spoons beside the bowl, followed by placing a bottle of oil, salt, yeast, and sugar, and just nearly throwing three eggs to the table - thankfully withdrawing from doing so quickly, remembering that eggs aren't anything like baseballs.

As the night progressed, the mercenary cracked eggs, mixed flour, rolled dough, ate a bit of the chocolate powder before adding some to the batter, and whipped up thick, sweet, orange-flavoured cream. Recipes flooded into his head and his actions were done as if by instinct, tinged with the feeling of nostalgia as the sweet, chocolate and orange Aroma brought back hidden childhood memories of baking with his mother.

As the youngest of seven brothers, Scout often had to fight his way to the top, whether it was for food, status, power, or the pretty girl in the park. However, being the runt, he had his dosage of failures, but that never stopped him. He'd always find another way around the problem that makes him top dog, like holding his self-made stack of blueberry pancakes like a prestigious award as his older brothers looked up from their bowls of soggy cereal and stared at the runt in surprise and envy.

As much as he secretly enjoyed baking as a side hobby, Scout still hates doing the dishes. Rubbing plates with a wet sponge was a huge no-no for him. Heck, he'd make deals with his brothers. If he baked them his famous Boston Cream Pie, they'll do dishes for a month - and he wouldn't accept any objections.

Scout snapped out of his trance as the electronic beeps of the oven broke his train of thought. Slipping on a pair of thick gloves, he opened the oven and pulled the chocolate cake out. He walked out of the kitchen and into the pantry area. He gently placed the brown cake on the plate, took a teaspoon out, and tested its texture.

"Not too dry, not too moist."

Scout took the orange cream he prepared. With the skill of an artist, he carefully squeezed the cream out of the plastic, stopping here and there, then neatening his masterpiece here and there. When he was finished, he stretched his back and neck with a sigh, placed his hands on his hips, and looked down at the cake.

A satisfied smile grew on his weary face. Placing a cover over the cake to avoid anything falling into it, he crept back to his room, and collapsed onto his bed in a second.

His work was done.

---

07:00, RED base

Scout stretched his arms and yawned loudly as he walked to the pantry. Medic looked up from the cake and at Scout.

"Ah Scout, you're avake!" Medic greeted with a cheerful smile. "Somevun dropped off cake again!"

Sniper, who leaned against the wall, looked at Medic and chuckled. "Heh, be careful mate. Who knows, maybe the BLUs sent that cake. The cake moight be a loi!"

"Zon't be ridiculous Herr Schniper!" Medic snorted and waved his hand in dismissal. "Every year ve get a cake, und so far no vun is dead!"

"Medic's right," Engineer lifted his copper brown welding goggles. "Today's a day a' celebration!"

"And I believe ze BLUs are celebrating as well, oui?" Spy added, twirling with the burning cigarette held with his gloved fingers.

"That's right lads!" The Demoman grinned, stepping into the gap between the Scout and the Soldier. "Today marks the fourth year of us lunatics cooped up in a bloody desert in the middle of nowhere!" He placed a hand on his partners' soldiers. "Four years of drivin' each other up the walls, fighting the weirdest things, and keepin' an eye on each other's backs!"

The group of nine mercenaries nodded and laughed in agreement, filling the air with joyous sounds. Heavy took a matchstick and flicked it against the box. A flame sparked to life and he lit the single red candle on the cake.

"HUDDAH-HUDDAH HUH!!!" Pyro muffled in excitement, wedging his head in between Medic and Heavy, who recoiled in surprise.

"Ay, so here's to us lads," Demoman declared, holding a bottle of scrumpy into the air. "Here's to the weird, crazy, zany adventures to come!"

"Here's to US!" The gang of tight-knitted cheered, flooding towards the cake to get their share. Only the Scout remained in his seat, watching his comrades - his friends chatting with grins and smiles plastered on their faces, enjoying the moment over their slice of cake that was baked with love.

Scout shrugged his shoulders and sighed. A smile crept on his face.

He could never ask for a better job and a better group of friends.

---

"Slice of Life" is a mini Team Fortress 2 comic series which showcases the RED and BLU mercenaries doing things random stuff that seem out-of-character, but still somewhat believable. This series is a collaboration between me and my sister, where we both create the ideas for the comics and I create it. (It's also a super late gift that's probably both her Christmas and birthday present lol).

Hope y'all will enjoy it!