Uncalled For || TF2

The Assistant Is Here

If it's not for the car ride with the air cooling working, both you and the woman beside you would be grilled under the sun outside. The said woman adjusted her glasses that had fall to her nose, keeping her eyes to the papers in her other hand. You? You are actually keeping yourself comfortable, watching the road passing by. From tall buildings to hills. Just occasional houses or buildings after few kilometer, other than that hills and fields are present.

The sound of the chauffeur coughing pulls you back to your sense. The woman beside you seems done analyzing the papers and put them back into her hand bag. You know her as Miss Pauling, the one who interviewed and giving you trial a month ago, "All papers have been signed and the contract has got an approval. You're officially joining us now," says her with collected voice. You look at her, acknowledging what she has said. She continues, "Everyone has been informed about your arrival today. You will meet them as soon as we arrived in... any second," she looks at the watch on her wrist.

Your eyebrows raise on her words, you are about to ask her about it when you feel the road under you not as smooth as it used to be. As you look out of the front window, you can see that the driver has took them out of the main road and entering a rather rocky road between two hills. Rather obvious fake bushes appeared after the car passed it and another obvious camouflage curtain rolls down as well. You are quite taken aback at the sight and look back to Miss Pauling, and the chauffeur as well, "Uhm..." your eyebrows knit together as you point at the sight after you, though both of them don't seem bothered. Somehow. You are quite unsure how to feel about it so you keep quiet.

Both of you, except the chauffeur, exit the car. You sling your big sling-bag on your shoulder and grip the briefcase with your right hand, then catch up with Ms. Pauling... and other who have been waiting for you. The other is a group of nine men wearing their red characterized uniform. Some look at you curiously, some with anticipation, and some unreadable. Welp.

"Guys, meet the 'Assistant'," says Miss Pauling as her hand and head move in sync to your direction, introducing you to the men. You still couldn't get use to the name of 'Assistant' though eventually you would, you note to yourself, smiling at the men as you bow your head for a couple of seconds, "Please to make your acquaintance everyone. I am the 'Assistant' and will assist you the best I can."

"That sounds like a pun joke. No offense," says one of the men suddenly. He is wearing a hat and has dog tags necklace. He eyes you curiously and yet also skeptical. Seems the most younger in the group, you think to yourself. The young man continues, "What are they supposed to do actually on the field? I mean... assisting. We DO assist each other ya know? Sometimes. So, what makes this class different?"

He got a point.

Miss Pauling pushes strands of her hair from blocking her view, taking the place to answer the man, "Assistant will work the same like the Medic, assisting him on healing. Though, they have different instrument to use on the field."

One of the men, who you assume is the Medic (with his obvious outfit and medical cross logo on his sleeves), perks up when he heard his class was getting mentioned. His eyes glinting with surprise then turning his attention to you. You bow your head once more at him, "Please take care of me."

"How interesting," you turn your attention to the voice. It belongs to a masked tall man in suit. Thick accent rolls on his words. Probably French, "It seems we will be having two medics in zhe team."

Miss Pauling nods her head, "Basically, Spy. Administrator thought that the use of more health supporter will increase the team's performance..." and entertainment.

"What? Does she think our performance is not good enough? That she thought we couldn't assist our own ass?" the previous man with dog tags spat his words out with irritation. He glares at you, which you reply with tight lipped mouth and 'welp' expression.