Chapter Text
She wasn’t sure if she had ever slept so hard in her life. When the Soldiers horn went blaring as it had the past few days had only just roused her. It seemed experiencing literal death several times between bouts of running while shooting at someone in the opposite color of you from nine to five really wore a person down. Now she understood the angry replies that followed the sound of The Soldiers trumpet in the previous mornings. As the screeching notes rang through the building she groaned, shifting to pull her pillow over her head for a moment before she flung it down to the end of her bed. Much as she wanted to ignore the shrieking call to action, the longer she did, the less time she knew she’d have to be ready for the bloodshed. She e did not doubt that today would be at least as bloody as the day before.
She pulled the covers away, tossing her feet over the side of her bed as she sat up. A tired sigh on her lips as stretched and stood up, pulling her covers back into place lazily. She picked up her glasses from the nightstand, and her brush from its drawer. Grimacing as she took it to the mop of curls tangled from sleep.
She slipped into her uniform and shuffled her way out into the hallway. Seeing the top of the Medics head disappear down the stairs as she closed her door. From the faint sounds she heard from the spies room as she passed his door she assumed he had not yet departed his for breakfast yet. The creak of wood greeted her as she began her descent down the several flights of stairs to the main living quarters. As she made her way down the thought struck her that it was odd how haphazard everything was, for a place the would pay so much money and offer full dental. From what she had observed so far there seemed little in the way of safety measures. Barring the safety-net from death, that is. But perhaps that was what made them so lax in the safety measures everywhere else, assuming this strange sort of system worked outside of work hours, why bother worrying if someone trips on a nail and falls down the stairs or falls into a pit if they’ll just comeback good as new?
Still though, you’d think they’d have some sort of pride in their buildings….Maybe I could hammer some of those nails back down, or fix some of those loose boards. In my own room if nothing else.
She pushed her question down, figuring it would only make things more confusing the more she thought about it. This place in a short few days had proven that it gladly spit in the face of any sort of sense, and trying to put a reason behind anything only made it all seem stranger. It seemed like adjusting to life here was going to be much easier if she let herself go with the flow and not question things. Seemed like the easier thing to do for her sanity, at least. She hardly counted herself as the picture of a perfectly sane person, but there were some folks here that were more scrambled than squirrels stuffed in a barrel with a snake.
She padded the rest of the way to the bottom of the stairs, drawn towards the kitchen by the smell of breakfast wafting in the air. She let out a small grunt as a figure coming around the corner collided with her by the shoulder.
“Ah, sorry about that, lass.” She looked up to meet the warm brown eye of the Demoman, mumbling an “It’s alright.” as he took a step back, clapping a friendly hand on her shoulder. “But, I suppose good news is I won’t have to go looking for ye.” He smiled, “So, looks like you’re with me today so I’ll be seeing ye when the bell goes off later.”
Johanna gave a nod. Better to know now than right before everything got started. “Alright. Hopefully things go a little better today than they did yesterday… or at least, we don’t end up through that… respawn? That’s what you guys call it right? Hopefully we don’t end up through there so soon after everything starts. Going through that so soon yesterday… that shit was embarassing.”
“Yeah, that’s what the lads have taken tae calling it. And I’m sure we’ll be fine. Even all of us don’t always sniff out a spy when he’s in front of our faces. Don’t take it tae heart. I’m sure everything will be fine. You’re gonna get tae help me turn em all into a thin glue!” He laughed, giving her shoulder a firm squeeze and another pat before he continued on his way up the stairs.
She peered into the kitchen, looking in at the pair bustling about, and the plates stacked with food on the counter. If she had to guess, it wouldn’t be long before it was ready.
She went to the dining room, deciding to claim a spot before the ensuing fray began.
And it doesn’t take long before it begins, starting with the Scout bounding his way into the room, followed by the Soldier and Demoman, shoulder to shoulder, laughing at some joke no one else seemed privy to. As everyone shuffled in the air seemed warm, filled with camaraderie. Its oddly homey, and Johanna found herself relaxing easily.
But the idle chatter and laughter stop once the plates of food are set on the table, and the sniper and Heavy weapons man hardly have pulled out their chairs after setting down platters filled with food before the morning chaos replaces the relaxed atmosphere. While the fighting outside the walls of the living space is still strange and new to here, this morning battle is quickly becoming a familiar routine. After a few minutes things settle down a little more, attentions more focused now on the plates in front of them than the ones that had once been laden full of food. Between the fried farm staples of hash browns and eggs, and the heartier looking porridge and something that looks like something mixed between a pancake and a crepe, and the slices of dark rye bread turned into simple open faced sandwiches that beckon of old world meals, shes fairly certain she can tell which of the two men must have made each dish. The Huntress is no stranger to the taste of Semolina or Rye from her own upbringing, and the familiar taste of the hearty porridge and the black bread is a nice touch of home and a large portion of her own plate is filled with the staples.
“So,” The Scout says, looking up from his own mostly devoured bowl. It was almost impressive the boy didn’t somehow drown himself in it with how fast he seemed to inhale his food. “Demo got the draw today eh? Bet you must be pretty disappointed in what you’re missing out on.” He says, a cheeky grin spreading on his slim features despite the quiet groans or eye-rolls his comment elicits from around the table.
“I’ve seen what a man killed by a blunt object or a shotgun looks like. Tire iron, old pipe, bat. They all leave about the same results.” She replied, spoon swirling in her bowl. “I haven’t seen what a man looks like when there isn’t much of a man left to see, however. That’ll be a new experience for me.” Its hard for Johanna not to laugh at the seriousness she puts into her words, and she can see by the look in his eyes that this was not on his radar of possible replies. She almost jokes she saw enough what she’d be “missing out on” in the showers the night before and that there wasn’t much to miss, but she’s fairly certain they’d all seen how close she’d had to bring the bottles of soap to her face to read them and know the lie in an instant.
“Aye!” The scotsman chimes, raising his fork in the air. “We’re gonna settle the score fer yesterday, I tell you what. Blow em all t’hell.” His enthusiasm is infectious, and she found herself raising her own utensil in solidarity. “Hell yeah! We’re all gonna do better today. I can feel it.”
As the meal neared its end men slipped from the table into the kitchen with their dishes, she followed along, noting that the Scout was the one who lingered in the kitchen as dishes were piled into the sink, drumming his fingers impatiently on the counter top as he waited for the water to fill it. She lingered until the others were gone to get ready for the fight before she slipped her own into the sink.
“Want some help?” She offered, leaning her hip against the counter, eye shining with amusement behind her glasses at the skeptical look the young man sent her way. “Uh, sure, but ah, whats the catch?” The kitchen faucet giving an irritated squeak as he turned the water off and picked up the sponge, setting himself to work.
“No catch, I just know what hell washing dishes for this many people is.” She replied hand snatching one of the towels hanging off the handle of the oven. “Here, You wash, I’ll dry.”
“You do, huh? Have big parties or somethin a lot?” He asked, picking up the one of the plates. And she had to give the boy credit, he did the work quick.
“Nah, Just a big family.” She chuckled, picking up the first plate he set aside.
“Heh, me too. Gotta a lotta brothas.”
“All brothers? Must have been a handful for your parents. Though I guess I’m not in much of a place to talk since my sister and I were the handful children.” She laughed. Her smile fell slightly as the pensive look that flashed over his youthful face for a moment. “Yeah we all are pretty good at getting ourselves into trouble. Except maybe my one brotha’, he “grew up” as he calls it, got a fancy job and all that jazz.”
“Lemme guess, business type?” She asked, setting aside a bowl.
“Yeah, I guess you could call it that.” He chuckled. “Got a lot more uptight after he got that job. Got a stick shoved up his ass somehow.”
“I get that. My older brothers got less rambunctious after they got good jobs and got hitched. Though, I suppose they always were more like Dad that way.” She smiled as they worked, falling into easy chatter. As they washed she learned quickly that the young man was a geyser of words. In a way it reminded her of how her younger sister would talk her ear off at every chance she got.
He continued to chatter even after he’d finished drying the last dish she had passed him, following at her heels as they made their way out of the living quarters and towards the battlements and supply room. Granted, he’d said little that interested her or had any importance, but she found she didn’t mind much. It was nice that the kid seemed comfortable enough to let his thoughts run.
He finally peeled away as they entered the supply room, giving her a light punch on the shoulder, muttering a “Good luck.” as he went over to his own cubby, beginning to wrap his hands.
She turned to her own, pulling on her vest and slipping the sling of her quiver over it before she slid on her bracers. She looked up from her arms at the sound of her title, turning to greet the Demoman, offering the man a small smile. “Ready for a fresh game, Lass?”
“Ready as I can be.” She replied, strapping her pistol into its holster on her hip. “I can lose gracefully, but I don’t like losing. I’m ready to make up for yesterdays mistakes.”
“Ach, nobody blames ye, sometimes its just the luck of the draw.” He replied, giving his own large vest a small tug to adjust it, inadvertently jostling the strange capsules strapped to it lightly.
“Maybe so, but I know having someone so green thrown into the mix doesn’t help. But, I know a little more of the layout, and what I’m up against. I’m not going to get taken blind like yesterday again.” She said firmly.
“Mission begins in 60 Seconds!”
He picked up his weapon, giving it a quick check over, giving a small satisfied nod. “Alright, lets head out a find ourselves a spot tae defend.”
“Following you.” She said, trailing after him as he headed for the door, fiddling with the handle of her knife in its holster. Determined that things would be better than yesterday. Even if that only meant dying a few less times.
He turned his head, giving her a large grin as the countdown ended, and she found herself grinning back, giving him a firm nod. “Lets do this!”
As she followed behind him her eyes studied him and the strange weapon he carried. She’d caught a few glimpses of him using it the day before. At first she hadn’t been sure what the little spiked balls it had shot out that stuck to the walls were until they’d exploded at the press of a button and taken out the oddly identical medic. And an idea wormed its way into her thoughts. “Hey, that thing shoots ones that stick to stuff, right?”
“Aye, that's right.” He replied, looking back at her over his shoulder, “Got an idea there?”
“I’m assuming you set traps with em like what you did to the other Medic, right? So, how often do you get live bait?”
“Hah, not too often, unless its me getting chased.” He chuckled.
“That hall out between the courtyard and the interior of the main building gets a lot of traffic, I noticed yesterday.”
“It does get favored, some days. What ye got cookin’ in that head of yers?” He questioned, heavy thud of his boots ringing off the stairs.
“Well, lets set a trap.” She said simply. “Think anyone would fall for it if you popped a bunch of those sticky things in the hall, by the open spot in above and I played mouse to their cat? It’d be too deep to get out of the blast range if someone follows me.” She explained, finding herself smiling back as he broke into a grin.
“I like the cut of yer jib. Hunter indeed.” He replied. “Aye, I think that’ll work. Lets go.”
Laughter bellowed from the pair as they came striding back into the supply room. And though blood both her own and others stained a fair portion of her uniform, and she wasn’t free from stray pieces of viscera, and the occasional bit of flesh she couldn’t tell who it had once belonged to. The cheer of success clearly overrode any distaste of her condition, and it was hardly the first time she’s had to deal with such grime on her skin, though perhaps it was a bit messier than she’s had to deal with before.
“I still can’t believed that worked twice.” She hastily shed her quiver and vest. “Oh, but his face when he realized what was happening. Are there cameras around the battlefield? I need a picture of that. Too priceless.” She slipped her belt off, setting everything back into the cubby she’d pulled it out of in the morning. “And is it bad that it felt so good getting a chance to return the gesture from yesterday when we cornered the Spy? Because it felt good and I don’t feel guilty about that.” she laughed.
“Nah, I get it. I think everyone enjoys getting payback for the tricks he pulls.” The Demoman replied, shucking off his own protective vest. “Ye did good today, Lass.” He said, giving her a hearty slap on the shoulder. “Yer getttin’ the hang of it quick.”
“I’m a quick learner. Helluva far cry from the type of mercenary work I’m used to, but its kinda fun. Like a big game. Now,” She said, tossing her bracers aside. “I don’t know about you, but I’m heading straight for the showers.” She picked a small bit of debris from her hair, grimacing at it before flicking it away. “I don’t even know what part of a body that even was anymore.”
“I’m wit ye there. After, I say we break out the drinks and celebrate.”
“Now you’re speakin’ my language.” She replied as she pulled off her bracers and undid her button up. “Shame it’s only a Monday, pretty sure after a week of this I’m going to need to seriously cut loose.”
“Hah, not like that ever stops Demo.” The Scout piped as he unwound the tape around his hands. “He’s a walkin’ distillery.”
“You’re one to talk, with those cans of radioactive swill you pour down your throat.” The Spy retorted. Glancing over at him, she can’t help but notice that he’s the cleanest out of all of them. Barely more than a few dark spots staining the red pinstriped fabric. “It’s a wonder either of your bones haven’t melted into sludge by now.”
“Ah go to hell, Spy.”
Though she had only been among them for a few days, she’d also noticed that it wasn’t uncommon for the Spy and Scout to butt heads with one another.
“Well, at the risk of my bones being sludge, I know what my evening plans are.” She said with a shrug, bundling up her soiled button up under her arm to toss in the laundry.