"Bird heads?" Miss Pauling asks again, for the fourth time.
"Yes, bird heads. Parrots and owls and cardinals and stuff. Birds," I elaborate. "I don't know how long this'll take to fix."
"Keep me updated on that. I'm currently digging my seventeenth shallow grave out of forty right now, so we might be here a while. Pauling out." She hangs up, and I step around Medic who's been following me around the common room as I paced in a circle for the past fifteen minutes.
"Something you need from me, Medic?" I finally ask while shoving my phone back into my backpack.
"Yes, but there are some things I should inform you of for our current predicament. Learning from previous interactions, I'm effectively useless in this field. Perhaps from what you've heard of me, you've deduced that I've tried next to everything to reverse our status, but that is not possible. It doesn't do much to us, and it's by no means bad if we're going to discuss mortality issues."
"That's all fine and dandy, but how do we undo it?"
"Is our appearance unsavory?"
I hear screaming and screeching in a distance and point my thumb behind me. "That is unsavory."
"Found one!" Scout yells from the armory. Medic leads me over as he continues to brief me.
"Our task will be slightly more difficult since Engineer has placed a temporary ban on the teleporters. The control points in the warehouse portion of the fort are all occupied at the current moment. We must capture our points again from our undead adversaries and try to push to the heart of the building to defeat the ceremonial antagonist clone."
"There are zombies?" I lift my eyebrows.
"Ja. They're really called 'Voodoo-Cursed Souls' or something of the like, but we call them zombies to anger Merasmus," Medic yawns as we approach Scout. "Found one of what?"
Scout tosses a small statuette up and catches it, shaking it in his hand. "Soul Gargoyle. Finder's keepers."
"As the saying goes," he coos and adjusts his glasses. "Ah, yes, I should note that our avian tendencies are completely involuntary that range from less than ideal diets to unnecessary preening and all the way to screaming as a group for no reason in particular as you heard earlier. If I begin to laugh at you for no reason, I apologize in advance."
"Alright..." I accept. "But didn't you need something, hun?'
"Ja," he chuckles as he bows his head. "I require you to pet me."
Scout bends over to tap his beak to my cheek. "Aw, yeah! Me, too!"
I don't even think for a second, giving them both attention. With one hand, Scout nuzzles his beak into my palm while softly trilling and smoothing out the feathers on Medic's head with the others. This feels so odd but satisfying at the same time. He straightens up and ruffles his feathers.
"I apologize for getting you side-tracked... We should perhaps go pay Engineer a visit, hmm? I'll meet you there, I must go restock in my clinic."
"Ah man, this is the good stuff," Scout warbles as he melts in my hands with Medic's absence. I snicker, and he quickly stands up, taking a scattergun from his locker. He looks at the pistol on my belt and takes out a shotgun as well. "Right uh, gonna go knock some heads together. You should take this."
"Why does everyone assume I suddenly know how to properly shoot a shotgun?"
"I mean... I just thought it made sense what with... Y'know...?" He shrugs.
I take the gun, widen the sling strap, and take off my backpack. "I suppose? I didn't even hold it correctly, this thing would easily blow my shoulder off."
"Practice makes perfect?" Scout reluctantly tries to motivate me. I tilt my head in unsureness and sling the strap of the gun over my body to keep my hands free before putting my backpack back on. "Be careful out there, Accomplice."
"You, too." I sigh as I head into Engie's garage. He holds a toolbox to his chest as he talks to Spy.
"Please, only sap it if needed," he pleads. "Sappers destroy the whole darn thing instead of just deactivating 'em."
"I will attempt to. I make no promises," Spy says. having to hold his cigarette in between his fingers when talking. Is he even supposed to be smoking? Bird head and everything...
"Go on, git," Engie orders. Spy squeezes past me as I enter, Engie setting down his toolbox on a table and turning to me. "ETA of getting all of this fixed up? Can't give ya an estimate," Engie sighs and crosses his arms. "To make sure we're all caught up, here's what we need to do to break the curse--"
"Medic already told me," I stop him.
"Saves me a bit of trouble," he mumbles. "Right now, we're rounding up exit teleporters around the fort. Better to do it now rather than wait for something to pop up out of it. Accomplice, why do you have a shotgun?"
"I honestly don't know, Scout gave it to me."
"You doin' alright? I mean, with everything going on and such."
I nod. "I just get to look at cute birds all day. Including you. I used to have canaries around my neighborhood."
He screeches before chuckling. "Aw, look at ya goin' round and callin' me cute now."
"Takes one to know one," I giggle, saying it as more of a joke.
"And that's absolutely a fact," he seconds, tapping his bent index finger on my chin. It might be the friendly nature of a canary talking, but his compliment makes my face warm regardless.
"Yoo-hoo, hallo?" Medic calls, laughing as his birds do before clearing his throat. He holds a container in his hands, handing it off to me. "Heavy and Scout went to go survey the first point and report on what needs to be done. I also saw Spy sapping the teleporter in my clinic after it spawned in a bread monster."
"Dagnabbit," Engie groans obnoxiously loud. "Guess it's for the best, Telemax needs new blueprints anyway and I've been flaking on 'em. I suppose we found out what Merasmus's curse was."
"I took the liberty of shutting off any teleporters I came across on my way here. If you're silent, they don't activate."
"Oh, good work, Medic," I say, trying to give input in this interaction. "It's a small detail, but it'll be useful later." Medic stands with his fingers intertwined, tapping his thumbs as he looks at me expectantly. He flutters his fingers to reference my hands. "What... What's in this thing, Medic?" I hesitantly ask.
"Open it," he urges, he and Engie stepping closer to me. I pop the lid, placing it under the jar. It's birdseed. "Now grab a bit of it." I furrow my brows. "Mach weiter, schnapp dir was." I do as he says, holding it in my palm with close fingers. Engie chirps, ducking his head and nudging up against my hand. Opening my fingers, he dives in and pecks at the feed, gently nipping at my fingers when there's no more. Medic is next, biting a bit harder when I'm out. He cocks his head to the side. "Erm, sorry. Aviary tendencies. I should make note that birdseed is only for good mercenaries."
A giggle escapes me as I replace the lid. "So you two are self-proclaimed good boys?"
"The best," Engie jokes as he pulls his glove. "Mercenaries, that is." He warbles and gently headbutts me which makes me put my hand out to pet him.
"If you wish to go check on the rest of our team, they're up on the eastward battlements," Medic informs. "I'll be checking on Heavy and Scout's progress. Remember, birdseed is only for good mercenaries."
"Birdseed is only for good boys, got it!" I confirm as I leave, grinning as Medic calls after me to correct my wording. I run to the up staircase, listening once I'm at the top for any voices that would point me in the right direction. Pyro honks which is followed by jeers, and I run opposite to that of the gym to find the rest of the team standing near a window. Sniper turns his head around to look at me, and I shudder. "That's going to take some getting used to. What are you four looking at?"
"Zombies," Soldier reports, pulling me over to the window. I squeeze in between him and Pyro, squinting at the warehouse. A bridge leads over a moat, past shipping containers which then leads into the building. Everything is quiet on the homefront.
"I have no clue what you guys are looking at," I finally admit.
"I have nae clue what ye guys are lookin' at!" Demo repeats.
"Gah, right," Sniper hoots. "You don't have a bird head. Here." I set down the bin and take his rifle, using the scope. "Third window to the right."
Shadows mill about inside, but it's too dark in the warehouse to see. "Holy crow."
"Oui?" Spy asks as he runs past.
"Ah, no, you're good," I dismiss him and give Sniper his gun back. Pyro honks again, everyone flinching while he clicks his tongue. "Why did you just do that?"
"Pyro either hits or bites ye when he daes that," Demo notes, turning his head to look at me with his eye. I look at Pyro, opening his oblong beak and shaking his tongue. His goggles obstruct his eyes. He honks, the team flinches, and Pyro starts calling as though he's laughing.
"Pyro, sweetheart, stop biting people," I say. He smacks the side of his beak against Soldier, Soldier threatening to bite him back. I separate them. "Pyro, no hitting either."
"Flamingos are bloody assholes, don't blame 'im too much," Sniper says as he lowers his rifles. He looks at the floor. "Is that birdseed?"
I rush to pick up the container, holding it tightly against my chest. "Birdseed is only for good boys."
"Am I nae a good lad, Hen?" Demo squawks.
"I don't know, are you?" I playfully tease. This is stupid beyond any reasonable measure, but I'm enjoying this. It's the first time I'm receiving little to no adversity or conflict with any of the team about anything I saw.
"I am," he declares.
"I am also a good boy and a national patriotic symbol of freedom and courage, now deliver my birdseed," Soldier commands. I sigh, digging my hand in and pulling out a handful for each of them. Pyro refuses birdseed, honking and then whacking my hand away with his beak. Soldier cries out, Demo following up by screeching and Sniper his hooting. Spy crows as he passes by- declining a handful of birdseed that surprised no one- Pyro honking and getting caught by Demo who wraps his hand around his beak. Pyro shakes his head, sneezing when Demo lets him go.
"Bless you," I tell Pyro.
"Bless you!" Demo yells. He nuzzles his beak on my forehead, and I pet him on the top of his head to prevent him from pushing me over. He clicks his beak, nodding his head furiously as I flatten his feathers. Even though Halloween has its track record of being scary and insighting fear, I'm filled with whimsy and- understandably- worldly detachment. I'm certain I'm having a very lucid dream at the moment, but I might as well enjoy it while it lasts. I feel my bond with Demo has already grown stronger and all I did was pet him for a couple of minutes. Something about hardened mercenaries all of a sudden asking to be hand fed and for pats on their heads as positive reinforcement has me feeling welcomed.
"They're bloody back." Demo leaves upon seeing our teammates outside the window, Soldier and Pyro following after him to meet up and discuss our plan. I go to follow, Sniper pulling me back.
"Listen, Luv," Sniper starts, "I hope I didn't weird you out."
"Er," I take no time in pondering about it. "You did. There's just a lot going on right now, Don't worry about it." I turn to go, but he stops me again.
"Are you sure? Think you-n-I both know that you have a tendency not to tell anyone when something is buggin' you."
"No, really, I'm fine, Sniper. It caught me off guard a teensy bit, but we're not on bad terms or anything," I assure him. He looks down at me with his golden eyes. "You look mad about it."
"Do I?"
"Yes," I state, quickly sorting my logic. "It's because you're a Great Horned Owl. Nevermind, you just naturally look upset. Let's go join the rest of the team." I walk off, Sniper following close behind as we descend the stairs and integrate into the group in Medic's clinic. Scout and Medic have returned to normal, but Heavy still remains a robin.
"Things have changed this year. For better or for worse is to be decided after the battle. Capturing a control point breaks your curse, but you can no longer cheat and have two people standing on it at once. Heavy got rather unlucky in that sense." Medic takes the container from me and scoops some birdseed into his hand for Heavy. "The rest of the warehouse was sealed off by a barrier. My guess? It's time-activated. We would have to return there later tonight and see how that goes. Oddly enough, there weren't any zombies either. Something very peculiar is going on."
"That is weird," I note. "We just saw movements in one of the windows on the battlements. We are dealing with magic here, so we can't keep trying to make sense of what's happening. We'll have to wait until later tonight, right?"
"Maybe," Heavy says while looking up from pecking at Medic's hand. "There is no telling, but that would be good guess. Team should check in hour or two."
"Gives us time to prepare. Y'all still remember your spells?" Engie asks.
"I don't think I can ever forget 'em," Scout says, deadpan.
I hum. "Oh, grand, spells. Fix the magic with more magic. This will be a disaster."
Medic looks on apologetically. "You don't need to use magic if you don't want to."
"Even if we prefer you do," Engie counters.
"Even if we prefer you dae!" Demo repeats.
"Healing Scout was not a fun experience, I'm not doing that again," I reinforce.
"What happened when yeez healed Scout?" Demo questions.
"Blood shot out of my nose." Disgust fills the room.
Medic puts a fist to his chest and alternates his weight between his toes and his heels. "None of these men have souls so they do not have to face the repercussions of casting magic, Meine kleine Hexe." I chuckle lightly, suddenly stopping when the lack of laughter around the room tells me he's dead serious. Not the strangest thing to be told me today, so I hold my tongue on any surprised comments. I clear my throat.
"Right. Go do whatever it is you need to do to ready yourselves. I'm going to make a call to Miss Pauling to update her on the situation. I'll be in the common room, so come get me if anything new develops." Heavy stands up and towers over me until he bows his head. I have to get on my toes when I reach for his head.
"Wait, question," Soldier raises his hand as he bows his head to receive affection from me as well.
"Yes?" Engie puts his fists on his hips.
"Will we be in the warehouse?" He snaps his head to me when I tap him which is followed up by him opening his beak as if he's going to nip me. I put up a finger until he backs down.
Scout rolls his eyes. "No, we're gonna be in Yugo-fucking-Slavia."
"Damn Socialists," Soldier seethes, quickly beginning to trill when I smooth out his feathers.
"I'm genuinely astonished every time you mention a country that isn't Mexico or Canada, boy," Engie settles, shrugging as he picks up a toolbox.
We disperse, and I make my way to the living room. I set my bag and shotgun down, leaning them against the side of the couch as I dial Miss Pauling's number. She picks up as soon as I sit down. "Fredrickson? I'm going to assume you're Fredrickson, so listen up. The Administrator has a public relations event on the docket for you with the new developing community, ScadWater. She wants the people to be on our side before word spreads that there are mercenaries in this neck of the woods. Desert. Whatever. Also, why didn't you tell me Merasmus was involved? You had me excited thinking we were dealing with someone who had the potential to be more tolerable."
"Merasmus hears all in the Scream Fortress sphere and I do not endorse such slander," his voice comes through the speaker of the phone, earning a lifted eyebrow from me. "Please carry on, though."
"Uhm," I chuckle, out of breath, "the PR event sounds uncannily normal in comparison to what's happening right now. Everyone said conditions have changed from previous years, and I can't give you an estimate on how accurate that may or may not be. We'll be tackling the issue in a few hours, and I may or not be available by phone?"
"You won't," Merasmus confirms. "Suspense is always fun."
"Merasmus, who do you need to pay off this year?" Miss Pauling sighs.
"Coyotes at the border, but that's not why I'm cursing all of you this year. All of you burned my uninsured spellbooks, and I paid good money for that! Eldritch labor doesn't yield as many benefits like it used to, but my economical strife is none of your concern."
"Why not go on strike?" I rhetorically ask, trying to be slightly snarky.
"The last strike ended with a war, I think we're past the point of rebellion," he answers. All three of us are silent on the phone as Demo sits on the couch with me, tapping me softly on the shoulder until I hold out a hand for him to headbutt by furiously bobbing his head. He clicks his beak as the silence on the line draws.
Miss Pauling coughs. "So you're going with them, Fredrickson?"
"Yes," I confirm, adjusting Demo's eyepatch to stay over his eye. He flinches and opens his beak as if to threaten me, but I put a finger to intimidate him back, pulling the strap further down the back of his head. He caws, and I place four fingers on his beak with my thumb folded in my palm. He draws his head back in surprise. "Shut."
"Excuse me?"
"No, not you."
"I don't think you should go with them," Miss Pauling bluntly says. "I wouldn't say you're in the best shape to help out with much of anything."
"I have to start somewhere," I dispute. Sniper sits on my other side and bows his head down while closing his eyes to take a nap. He's an owl, so that must mean he's also nocturnal. His feathers puff out as he shrinks his neck, shifting his beak as he gets comfortable. "I have to help out somehow."
"You do. By handing out contracts and making sure their paperwork is done as soon as it comes in. Maybe bury a body or two if it comes down to it. That's what you were originally employed to do," she speaks condescendingly. "You can't handle being a mercenary. Don't let the name they gave you fool you, Fredrickson, your performance on the cruise was less than optimal. You're... You're too soft."
I furrow my brows as Demo rests on my shoulder, ruffling his feathers to also go to sleep. Sniper moves closer, our arms touching. I grow quiet as I begin to think about how stupid I must look running around and calling grown men adorable. "What better way to harden me up?"
"I need you strong, not broken," she says. "There's a difference. I need you to be able to handle your business when it needs to be taken care of, not to have the kindness and compassion beat senseless out of you. I prefer that you stay back for this, we'll find a different way to work you up to that. I know I'm hard on you, but that's because the guys won't be. I meant every word I said to you during your first contract. I was the only one giving you pushback because I knew I'd be the only one giving you pushback."
"Touching," Merasmus sarcastically conveys over the line, "but this curse was cast for ten people to deal with and you're not here, so I suppose she'll have to do. There's a fee to amend spells, and I am trying to make rent this month."
"Damn it, Merasmus," Miss Pauling groans. I can imagine her rubbing her temples. "Fredrickson, be careful. Who are you with right now?"
"Sniper and Demo," I inform, both of them nuzzling closer and ever so slightly trilling at the mention of their names.
"Oh, oh my gosh no... Well... Hmm-- P-Put Sniper on," she orders. I nudge him with my elbow, his head turning to me like a record on a player. He takes the phone and sits up, Demo stirring as Engie pulls in the chalkboard with the other guys in tow. He has a list of everyone's names on the board with numbers next to them.
"Here's our priority list," Engie starts, everyone taking seats. Soldier stands next to Sniper, asking feverishly if he's talking to Miss Pauling and if he's allowed to speak with her. "Sniper and Spy are at the top. We need 'em to be quiet and neither of them can do that if they're screaming half the dog-gone time. I marked Spy as one and Sniper as two."
"Why is Heavy at bottom of list? Is large gun not priority?" He aggressively inquires.
"I'm getting to that, calm down, Heavy," Engie calms him. He screeches like a parakeet for a moment before continuing. "Number three would be Pyro. If there are zombies in there, we'll need the fire to do crowd control." Pyro honks and bashes the back of my head with his beak. I don't even turn around to give him the satisfaction. "And so he'll also stop bein' a jerk. Soldier follows, then Demo. You two are somewhat long-ranged and explosives help with crowd control as well. Heavy, you're up. Your guns are loud, and you're just as loud anyway. It doesn't make much a difference. I'm last since I'm not out on the front lines like the rest of ya have the ability to be. Any questions or objections from you fellas?" Heavy raises his hand. "That isn't about the tactical order on this here board?" He puts his hand down. "Good."
"Engie, Miss Pauling's on the line," Sniper says as he bars Soldier from taking the phone. Engie takes it and ducks as Soldier transfers to hounding Engie.
"Canary speakin'... N-no, Miss Pauling... I just look like one... That all? Alright, well, Soldier wants to talk to you."
Soldier takes the phone. "Hello, Miss Pauling! That is all, goodbye." He ends the call and yells suddenly as a man rather than a bird, everyone in the room who's still cursed screaming with him. I glance at Scout who covers his exposed ear while gritting his teeth, getting up, and walking away to manage the noise. Heavy is the last to die down with his gravelly voice running out of air.
A grandfather clock chimes inside my head, everyone else being able to hear it as we all jolt with straightened spines. Medic rises from the office chair he rolled over to sit on. "Das ist unser Stichwort zu gehen. Let us get going."
We gear up, making the trek from the fort to the warehouse while the guys give me small little tips about handling zombies. They're only copies of the team, not the team themself, so I shouldn't be too upset about having to kill a couple. To always keep moving was a given, as well as trying to make my way back to someone should I ever get singled out. A majorly helpful tip from Soldier: using my backpack strap would lessen the blow of the recoil on my shoulder. A crow calls in the distance, Spy responding. Smog-orange clouds swirl overhead, a hurricane in the sky with us in the eye. Heavy pulls aside a metal sheet they used to close off the entrance, and we head in.
"So this is Yugo-fucking-Slavia," Soldier comments, Scout snickering.
"Darker than what I expected," I say, my voice echoing into the abyss.
"That's why I gave you a flashlight," Engie responds.
"And I thank you." I adjust the lamp clipped onto my backpack strap, being the light source for Scout as he leads us to the barrier Medic told us about. Engie managed to get his hardhat to fit on his head, a mining lamp strapped onto the front of it. Everyone else carries a flashlight to shine freely in their own direction, the only exception being Sniper as owls are exceptional nighttime predators.
"Right 'ere," Scout tells, pointing to a closed blast door with a small, circular symbol on the line where they meet. Scout tries to use his hands to separate them to make a point that it won't open. I turn off my light and look at the shape.
"That's either the zodiac sign for Gemini or the roman numeral 'two,'" I observe. "What would we need two of?" Scout leans against the door, the number changing. "Now it's a 'one.'"
"Maybe we're lookin' for similar traits? Which ane of yeez has something in common with Scout?" Demo sounds as though this is a life-long question.
"If it is disappointment, we will never see the other side of this door," Spy jests.
"Haha, real funny, Spy," Scout sarcastically counters. He rolls his head over to me, flipping his palms upward with raised eyebrows.
"Heavy will break through door, move," Heavy orders. I stand up and turn my light back on as the door creaks from the force he exerts. It doesn't budge, Heavy yelling out and ramming his fist into the metal. A dent is left where his fist landed, but still not even the slightest break or opening. Medic goes to stop him, the door hissing open as he draws near.
"Two people with a broken curse?" Engie suggests making sense of it.
"Or two people with a Soul Gargoyle. That actually might be the same thing, though," Medic deduces as he takes a statuette from his back satchel.
"Only seems logical. These look to be checkpoints to make sure we're not going out of order or somethin'. Let's keep going."
It's dead quiet aside from our footsteps and the occasional trill. "What is this place used for?"
"Assembly line. We used to manufacture our own weapons, but we got Mann Co. to do that for us now. Haven't had much practical use for this place except for when I need scrap metal," Engie tells, the door slamming behind us. The point of no return.
The darkness feels alive. It encases us as we travel deeper into it. We aren't alone here. I release a shaky breath, getting cold spasms on my back. It's practically untouched in here. There aren't any decorations unless you count the natural spiderwebs and bats hiding in the rafters. I observe them move around along the ceiling with glowing eyes when Soldier moves his light up to look with me.
"Mortals! Merasmus has arrived to inform you of the game rules." Merasmus appears when the bats flurry, a green aura surrounding him.
"Thanks, but no thanks," Scout dismisses him. "We've been doing this for at least four years. I think we're good."
"I don't know the rules," I remind him, sassily. "I think I'd like to know how the game works."
"Oh, you don't know how this works?" Merasmus asks.
I shake my head. "I'm the new one, remember?"
"Oh! Yes, the new one. Well, I am trying to kill all of Team Fortress since I can't kill Soldier..."
"Why are we not able to kill Soldier?" I question. "I mean, I would prefer no one dies, but why is Soldier specifically off-limits?"
"Away with you!" Merasmus yells, pointing his staff at me. I flinch and throw up my arms to shield myself. I slowly look up at him, not feeling much different. He grumbles under his breath and he hits his staff against his hand. "Hunk of garbage... Last time I use a rental. Now then."
"Hold on, Merasmus," Soldier interjects, pointing his flashlight in his face. Merasmus doesn't even let him finish his thought before he throws his staff at him, rendering Soldier unconscious with a clearly visible 'mini-crit.' I'm still fairly certain I'm dreaming. Demo and I go to check on him, Merasmus hesitating.
"I suppose I'll lift your bird's-head curse, but only because it puts you at an unfair advantage." I turn to look at the rest of the group, everything back to the way it should be without much commotion. "Begone!"
The floor collapses under me, and Demo reaches over to grab onto my arm to catch me. I wrap my fingers around his forearm in hope of being able to catch myself. I slip out of his grasp- our fingertips grazing against each other- screaming as I plummet into the ravine.