𝘽𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙧.

6.

The two teens were escorted to their rooms, with the whole team on edge another attack. Scout was tasked with watching the two, to his dismay.

"Man, this fuckin' sucks. Why do I gotta be a babysitta' today. Just cuz they didn't give em weapons to protect themself." Scout grumbled, pacing around the door as the two took turns getting changed for the morning. Nobody was getting sleep at this time of day.

The sun was already rising and the storm had let up. They had a week of ceasefire for training their new recruits and to implement their respawn aspects and something called 'Uber Myocardium.'

Crow felt as if that phrase had been said before, but their memory of the words were hazy. Slipping into some new gear which had been given to them for their assigned classes.

Ozzie hummed as they fluffed up their hair, stepping back and forth as they got ready for their interview. It was mandatory for each mercenary so these two were not excluded.

The dyed blue haired teen leaned agains their bedframe as they crossed their arms.

"Hey. Don't you be complaining when you weren't the one who got your head turned into mist." They glare at the floor, fiddling with their coat.

Scout gave them an unamused look, raising his eyebrows at the teen before mumbling a 'whatever.'

Crow stepped out of the bathroom, clad in a red jumpsuit which contained paint spatters on it with two cross body bags hanging from their shoulders with Medic's symbol on them. They had a tool-belt which contained an array of colored ink vials and spray paint. A shotgun on their back looked similar to the Soda-Popper.

"Lookin' sharp kid. Now your turn angsty!"

Ozzie yelped as he was pushed past Crow into the bathroom to get changed.

Crow sat down on their bed, pulling their legs up to their stomach. Their eyes were downcast.

"Yo. What's wrong?" Scout crouched to their level.

"I'm just a bit homesick you know? Big change from Oregon to New Mexico am I right...?" Crow hummed somberly.

Scout took a second, thinking hard as his foot tapped against the flooring as he zipped away.

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"Yo doc! You got any kids toys 'round here?" Scout zipped about the doctors office as Medic barked out, "You are meant to be watching the recruits-!"

"Ah' they'll be fine for a minute. Now answer da question!"

"Vell yes I do, but that is..."

Scout was gone, having taken a small blue tupperware box.

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Scout skittered back into the room with both fully dressed teens. Reaching in the box, out exploded a few marine animal plushies and with a quick jolt, Scout threw them ontop of Crow. They yelped and fell back onto the floor, a small shark plushie in their hands.

"Ta-da! Real nice ain't it? Yeah I know." Scout chuckled as Crow looked at each stuffed animal with observance.

Scout looked over at the other tween. Ozzie was dressed in red, dark black fingerless gloves with three small bumps on the overside of them. Dawning a black gas mask with tubes running passed his head down into multiple sections of gas tanks. Their uniform resembled similar to that of Pyro's. The mask had a fanged maw painted on it, along with some scuff marks. "Nice kiddo, real nice. So uh, what now-?" Scout asked nervously as he had no idea how to deal with some few people younger than him.

Ozzie rolled his eyes with a shrug and stepped back and forth on his heels. For the first time he had felt an urge like this, one that squeezed his chest and made him feel nauseous the longer he didn't. He needed to move about, to run, to jump, to kill. He had aways had those thoughts but being a contracted mercenary made his brain run wild with ideas.

Ozzie's pupils constricted as their heart beat faster and faster, adrenaline flooding their veins. Taking a few deep breaths they looked at Scout before dashing out of the room, only to hear a "Wha-?! Hey!" come from the Bostonian as he ran out to watch Ozzie turn a corner.

"Man' that kid's fast." Scout leaned back in onto the two tweens' bunkbed.

"I'm in deep shit ain't I..?" Scout could only imagine the punishment that he would receive for letting Ozzie run off so quickly, pulling his baseball cap to hide his face.

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Ozzie dashed down the dusty desert as he looped around back of the building. A gas mask pulled onto the bottom of his face as his eyes were nearly pinpricks now, red misty gas pumping into the mask. He laughed a bit manically as he breathed int he dark hazey smog. Jumping ontop of some boxes, metal claws extracted from the backs of his gloved hands, digging into the cement wall as he clambered up onto the roof-top.

He sat down carefully on the stinging floor, hands casting over the textured ground, pieces of rubble sticking to his exposed skin from the sweat of the stunt.

His hair, wiley and tangled from the event flowed beside himself in the hot wind. Arm's outstretched, his eyes cast out across the desert to the 'BLU Base.' A loud bout of psychotic laughter left the teen's mask, distorted electronically as he stared out at the enemy's safe-haven. The sun was rising just above the horizon behind him. The higher the sun got the more that Ozzie could feel his drugged-state disappear. He looked down at himself, his baggy outfit hanging off of his limbs. He turned his head to the forest besides them. Leaping off of the roof, and with all fours he ran to climb up a tree, sighing as he breathed in the cool shade that soothed his quickly sun-burnt skin. The patch on his shoulder told the story of his class.

Meet the Beast.

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Scout sighed as he ran his hands across his buzz-cut hair, legs crossed as he sat on the bed, watching over Crow's shoulder as they sketched their team's Medic. Each stroke of the pencil made a soft soothing sound that he could only remember from his mother's past-time of painting when she had come home from work. The man leaned back and let his legs splay out, looking up at the top bunk.

"Great talent you got right there kid. Drawin' n' all." Scout murmured as Crow jumped a bit out of their stupor. They turned their head and laughed a bit awkwardly, fidgeting with the pencil and responding with, "Self-taught... About 5 years now." Crow popped some of their fingers, raising the sketchbook a bit to see it in better light. Scout leaned over to look. "That's the doc alright." The boston boy laughed and adjusted his cap. "No wonder you've got your class as that there paintbrush."

Meet the Artist