UNITED, WE CAN FIGHT THE METAL MENACE

[spah]

MANN VS. MACHINE

A robot army is invading Mann Co., a multinational company known for weapons, munitions, and hats. If you didn't know, they own 306 plants, office buildings, warehouses, and outlet malls in New Mexico alone. You may or may not work for them. One way or another, Saxton Hale, CEO and incredibly shirtless Australian man, has hired (or re-hired) you to defend his facilities worldwide from the robot invasion.

The robots were made by Gray Mann, owner of Gray Gravel Co. (headquartered on an island, made of spiky rock formations and gravel) and set on taking Mann Co. from Hale via, you know, robots. He them made himself, and vaguely resemble nine mercenaries infamous in New Mexico.

For your information and viewing, Hale has sent a tape explaining the situation. Simultaneously, he's wrestling a yeti. Between punching, blood, and some on-and-off asides from the cameraman, the jist of the speech goes like this:

"LISTEN UP, MERCS!

THE ROBOTS ARE COMING!

I won't smooch backsides on this either. These things are bigger than you. They're stronger than you. In fact, now that I'm saying it out loud, they're better than you at just about everything.

"MERCS! Your jobs died with the Mann brothers. You hear me? As of now, you are all unemployed! Also, straight plan talk here: Nobody's ever going to hire a non-metal man again with these robots around! I've seen them. They are spectacular.

Now for the good news! You're all re-hired! Grab a pen, here's your new job description: KILL ROBOTS!

NOW GET OUT THERE AND KICK SOME CAN!

I'd help, but as you can see, I will be fighting a yeti for nine more hours. MAKE ME PROUD, BOYS!"

For reasons the woman who gave you the tape can't comprehend or explain, the robots run on piles of money. Destroy them, and whatever falls out is yours. Get to Mann Co. immediately.

✘ Mann vs. Machine is a co-op mode from the video game Team Fortress 2. In MvM, you and others fight off waves of killer robots set on delivering an enormous bomb to your base. Familiarity with TF2 isn't necessary! Though MvM has game-specific facets, feel free to treat this is a good 'ol-fashioned robot army fighting meme. You know. Those ones.

HOW TO PLAY:
- Comment with your character and write a threadstarter
- Respond to other threadstarters
- Play and have fun! Three-way (or more) threads are encouraged, so feel free to do anything.
- Seriously, this is meant to be loose and fun. Go nuts!

Comments

Engineer | Team Fortress 2

[spah]

a. (kind of an opener, could lead up to a fight)

[Leave it to Engineer to set a mood.

In Manhattan factory, snowfall quietly dusted the ground in a light layer of white. It had snowed on and off since this morning, and in the relative silence around the Mann. Co manufacturer, the sharp beep of a turret cut the air. Then, a guitar.

The Engineer scratched at his beard and pulled at his jacket. He himself on a crate and looked down at his guitar. He picks at the strings for a moment, feeling out a melody. It doesn't take long for it to come out, something quiet and contemplative. He sings along with it.

In another ten minutes, the silence would end. The sentry next to him would fire nonstop, and his other machines would be working overtime. They would all be shouting, screaming, both humans and robots. That's not to say it's a bad thing. Hell, Engineer loved it. He liked his last job, but this one came with better tech and a shitload more money. The challenge was good too, and damn if he didn't enjoy having robot corpses to pick at and study by the end of the day.

Problem was, things were long and difficult. He liked a challenge, but he'd be lying if he wasn't tired, either. That's why it felt good to play something, even for a few minutes.

The song's about dying, by the way.]

b.

[In Engineer's makeshift workshop (not hard to set one up when you're in a coal-town-turned-Saxton-Hale-run-mining-museum), the merc was grinning to himself. He looked down arms. He had two red, metal cuffs on each wrist, and he was eager to try out an idea.

"SCANNING."

Also, there's a robot. One of the Heavy Robots hung a few inches off the ground, skewered on a rusty hook. Surprisingly, it didn't put up much of a fight from there. As Engineer crossed the room, it turned its head to look at him.

"HUMANS."]

Yup. You found me, big fella. Good goin'.

["I DESTROY COWARD TOYS!"]

Alright, Heavy definitely knocked somethin' loose in your head.

[Like he was complaining. He was just happy Mikhail brought him a bot in the first place. He even got a hold of a giant one, which was going to make a lot deadlier. The merc clapped the two cuffs together. Something sparked, and panels on either side flickered to life. Engie lit up just as much, and he brought his hands up toward a pile of crates.

The robot Heavy's arms lift too. Two machine guns not unlike Engie's sentry guns were attached to his hands. Dell closes his fists, and the Heavy fires at the crates.

Everything pretty much explodes. Engineer brings an arm up to his face just as splinters and coal dust fly in his direction. He coughs violently as it fills the room. It takes a minute for things to finally settle, but when it does, the merc looks up. The robot, still mimicking Engie's arm movements, is still there. Now, though, there's also an enormous black spot where the crates used to be. He brings his arms down. He grins again, his smile so wide it borders on maniacal.

It's hard not to holler.

"NICE SHOOTIN', TEX."

Oh, right. There's another robot. It's a Mecha Engineer, and its head is lying on a table nearby. Just the head.]

B

[malpractitioner]

[For a brief, tense moment, Medic wonders if a new wave of robots has suddenly shown up at their doorstep. He instinctively reaches for his medi-gun, his hand hovering over its handle as he pauses and listens for further fire. Instead he just hears hollering, and immediately his shoulders relax.]

[Oh, thank goodness. It's just Engineer being a literal God of the Machines, as he is wont. By the sound of things, he's made some sort of breakthrough. A big, loud, violent one, which is the very best kind.]

I suppose I should congratulate him, Ja?

[He asks this of Archimedes, who tilts his head in response. Medic takes that as a sign to hold out his hand, allowing the dove to hop up onto his wrist, then arm, then shoulder.]

[The to then head off towards Engie's workshop, and once there Medic simply hangs in the doorway, taking in the scene before him. A Heavy-bot, splintered wood laying in smoking heaps, an ecstatic Engineer-- something must have gone horribly right just now.]

I see you've taught the machine to play Simon Says.

[That might sound like a backhanded compliment, but it's really not. He's genuinely impressed, just being a tease about it because why would he ever not be.]

[spah]

You're damn right I did!

[Oh man. OH MAN. Engie looks up at Medic with the kind of wide, enormous grin he usually reserved for big discoveries. He turns to the Heavy robot, who he pats on the "stomach". With the cuffs still on and active, the bot repeats his motions, patting the air at nothing in particular.]

Y'see, these fellas have sort've a... self-destruct system built into 'em? They don't explode or nothin', they just... kill themselves in any way possible when it's active. Jumpin' off cliffs, bangin' heads into walls, you get the picture.

["I PROMISE YOU PAIN WITHOUT END." Engie gives the Heavy another pat. There, there, big fella.]

But Mikhail caught a big one. [He makes a point to just say the man's name, just in case the whole "Heavy robot" thing got confusing.] So, I figured out how to disable its ambulatory motor functions and control 'em with these.

[Engineeer holds his arms up. Again, Heavy does the same. The merc's goggles glint in the light, almost matching that borderline mischevious grin when his arms go down.]

Still gotta reprogram 'em. This sumbitch might not be able to move, but he's still pretty much aware of everthing. And, 'course, everything these bots say were pre-recorded from watchin' us.

["I DESTROY COWARD TOYS."]

So he's a mite pissed off.

[malpractitioner]

[Medic looks from Engie to the robot then back again, and slowly raises a brow.]

That is perhaps an understatement.

[This thing looks like it's just dying to tear Engie's head off and use it as a soccer ball, which is impressive considering its fixed expression prevents it from properly emoting.]

[Looking back to the giant parody of their teammate, Medic hums thoughtfully. He's never actually been this close to one before, for the obvious reason that being within arms reach of a literal death machine is a surefire way to win a Darwin award.]

The resemblance is uncanny, isn't it? Though it lacks a certain charm of the original. His je ne sais quoi, as Spy would say.

[He smirks, reaching out to rap his knuckles against the metal man's side, just because he can, and there's nothing the robot can do about it.]

[spah]

[Engie's explanation is a roundabout way of saying that he basically paralyzed a robot, let it stay self-aware, and experimented on it. Who says he and Medic aren't similar??

Speaking of Medic, the Heavy voices its displeasure at the other human too, especially now that he's touching it.

"DOCTOR."]

He sure is. ["KILLING YOU IS FULL-TIME JOB NOW."] Alrighty then.

[Engie crosses his arms and leans on it. The Heavy crosses its arms too. It's heavy (HA) enough to support his weight, at least.]

Ain't he? [He says, finally answering Medic's question now.] Mikhail stuck around for a while and watched, but it got a little weird for him after I popped its chest cavity open. Can't say I blame 'im. We found metal sandwiches in there.

[This is a real item in TF2.

Anyway. Engie glances down at his braces and grins.]

Long story short? If I can make this fella walk, we got our own robot.

Star Butterfly | Star vs the Forces of Evil

[ilovepuppies]

Syrup Tsunami Shockwave!

[A wave of maple syrup crashes over several dozen robots, catching them in sticky, messy, sugary goodness. Some teenage girl ducks in and out of the mob, waving a ridiculously sparkly magic wand and shouting madlib incantations.]

Honeybee Tornado Swarm!

[a swarm of bees erupts from the wand, bowling over a Medicbot and Heavybot duo as they fly straight at the syrup-covered masses.]

Come at me, ro! Get it, because you're robots?

perfect

[spah]

[The Engineer happens to be nearby. Who let a kid in here, he has no idea. But that's fine. She seems to be holding things down just fine.

With her

maple syrup magic

and bees

To be fair, he's got a giant-assed sentry gun right next to him.]

So where do the bees come from?

[ilovepuppies]

[teenage girl surrounded by killer robots and strange men. It's fine. This is fine.]

They come from MAGIC, duh!

[As if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Suddenly, she gasps and aims the wand... directly at Engine.]

DUCK! Cupcake Blast!

[spah]

[Well, he was going to say something about the magic part but NEVERMIND SHIT HE'S DUCKING]

Christ, girl!

Spy | Team Fortress 2

[crabbmarche]

a.

[The worst part about his job is the waiting. Spy never runs into anything half-cocked; he needs to understand how these things work in order to be of any proper use. How they move, the sounds they make, their idle behaviors. Maybe he takes his job a little too seriously, but if he's going to do this, he's not going to half-ass it.

So he's going over notes with a glass of scotch in hand. There's still some time before he has to get to work. The best offense is a good cloak-and-dagger routine, after all.]

b.

[He underestimated these things. He underestimated them so much.]

Fils de pute, [he hisses to himself, tucked away out of sight and watching the battery drain from his cloaking watch. Turns out these bots had pretty good tracking and sensors. One little misstep and he'd been made and gotten a bullet in his leg for the trouble.

Time's up. The cloak breaks, and he pulls out his gun, holding it at the ready. He has to wait for the battery to recharge on his watch before he can try to make a break for safety, and even then there's no guarantee he'll make it before it dies again

Spy lights up a cigarette. Nothing left to do but wait.]

b

[spah]

[Despite his job description, Engineer wasn't the type to hide behind his machines. Heavy and the others had the front lines covered, and he was defending the back. It was quiet, for now, long enough that the merc took it as a temporary good thing. He took his shotgun went to check around.

And it wasn't long after he left the back lines that he caught himself staring at the back of his own head.

The Spy Robots were still new to him. Though he was familiar with how cloaking technology worked, it still kind of blew his mind that these things could change into humans that well.

Or maybe it just scared him that it was so easy to do.

The Spy Robot disguised as Engineer rounded a corner into the real Spy's hiding place. The real Engineer took slower, quieter steps. The robot caught sight of the real Spy and got closer. Quiet, not talking, just walking. It wasn't very good at being a Spy, at least.

It only took three or four steps before the Engineer appeared behind the robot and blasted it square in the back with his shotgun. It flew a good ways, landing just in front of the real Spy. Engie lifted his head.]

Now, see, a real Texan woulda dodged that.

[crabbmarche]

[It was only a matter of time. Spy pauses mid-drag as Engineer rounds the corner and approaches.

It was a very good disguise. He probably wouldn't have noticed in the heat of battle, but here, the way it says nothing and moves with purpose. This is very clearly not his Engineer. So he sighs and starts to level his gun for the Spy Robot's head, but he's a little slow to the draw. It flies towards him, and he shields his face with a hand in case any metal bits come loose.

He looks at the robot, then up at the real Engineer. He drops his gun once more, continuing his cigarette.]

At least there's one thing they aren't good at.

[spah]

[The Administrator crackles over the intercom. Engineer looks up.

"Spy-bot destroyed!"]

Heh.

[He chuckles and approaches... then sees Spy's leg. Ah.]

Wondered why you were sittin' on the job. [He props it on his shoulder and holds a hand out.] Got first aid and a big gun 'bout three minutes from here. You wanna wait or take a shoulder?

[Again, he knew how Spy's cloaking tech worked.]

[crabbmarche]

Just taking a moment for myself, amigo.

[He shifts, unable to hide a wince, and looks at his watch. It's about fully charged now, but the question is, what condition is his leg in?

He takes Engineer's hand and stands, attempting to put weight on his injury and hissing as pain shoots up his leg.]

Ah. I hate for you to shoulder my burdens. But it might be faster if you do.

Medic | Team Fortress 2

[malpractitioner]

A.)

[Ah, Rottenburg. It feels like only yesterday his family was being driven out by an angry mob wielding pitchforks and torches. Funny, how quick the old neighbors are to welcome him back now that he's one of the nine people standing between them and an untimely death.]

[Not that Medic's bitter or anything.]

[He's also definitely not sorting out some very complicated emotions in the old family Pharmacy, searching the shelves for any salvageable supplies. Honestly, he's surprised the new owners didn't bother to change the name on the sign outside. You'd think they wouldn't want that kind of publicity, but then, he supposes there's something to be said for brand recognition.]

[Anyway, organs.]

[There is a disappointing lack of them in this place despite what the sign advertises. Another thing they just couldn't be assed to change. Really, if the whole town hadn't been abandoned the moment the Robots invaded, he'd have had a few choice words for the new owner about false advertising. Getting a man's hopes up like this is just cruel.]

Ach. Müll.

[He shakes his head, carelessly tossing a bottle of medication over his shoulder as he grumbles under his breath and continues his desperate search for anything he can actually work with.]

B.)

[Medic hasn't slept in three days, and it shows. His hair's a mess, he's forsaken his vest and tie, and there's a manic look to his eyes that - well, actually, that parts kind of normal for him. But still, the point is he's tweaked out on God knows what kind of uppers but he doesn't care because he's just graduated from being a Doctor to a full fledged Necromancer and he needs to tell someone about it or he's going to explode.]

[He doesn't care who it is - he just makes a b-line for the first person he sees and waves excitedly at them, flagging them down as he rushes over at a brisk jog.]

[He's so jazzed he doesn't even remember to translate his thoughts before he says them out loud - which is probably for the best, because "I just made Death my bitch!" sounds so much more eloquent in German anyway.]

por que no los dos

[spah]

A. [Engineer had been out of the country before, but never Germany until now. Pretty interesting. Too bad there wasn't much culture to take in when killer robots chase out most of it.

Oh well. Engie took advantage of the quiet time by gathering up parts he could use from bots and broken sentries. It's not long before he sees Medic in the windows pharmacy nearby. He looks up at the name on the sign.

Ah. That's why. He shifts the leather messenger bag packed with scrap over his shoulder and cracks the door open.]

Found much?

B. [Engie was sitting at a table with a pile of schematics and maps. He had gone back and forth between strategy (featuring a hundred notes above them calculating out sentry range, distance, available firepower, etc.) and rough sketches of robot makeup and weakpoints (featuring huge piles of money). Convenietly, he had a Mecha-Engineer's head attached to a lampshade stand, and its eyes make surprisingly good reading light.

But now Medic is here and yelling something in German and oh christ wow. He already knew the man hadn't slept but wow he looks looks like shit.]

Uh. No entiendo?

[Look, Spanish is the only other language he's got.

... You know what no fuck it he's not encouraging this.]

Hoss, you look like roadkill.

[He has a wrench next to the table. He honestly debates knocking the poor man out.]

[malpractitioner]

A.

[You'd think Medic would at least have the decency to at least pretend to be embarrassed about being caught in the act of raiding a pharmacy, but nope. He doesn't look the least bit guilty, which has just as much to do with his general lack of scruples as it does with who's goddamn name is on the sign outside.]

[Rather than spook at Engineer's sudden entrance, he simply shoots a brief look over his shoulder before continuing his search.]

Other than OTC medications and disappointment? No.

[Well someone's salty.]


B.

[Most people would probably take offense to being compared to something that needs scraping of the side of the road, but Medic just laughs and waves off the comment without batting an eye. He's just found a way to usurp the mortal coil, he doesn't give a SHIT about how accurate Engie's assessment is - he's going to be riding this high until the sleep desperation finally catches up with him, and when he wakes up two days from now he's probably STILL going to be just as jazzed.]

Ja, I know, stimulant abuse will do that, but that's not the point!

[His words blur together in a rush, partly because he's excited, partly because he's hopped up on enough Epinephrine to drop a horse.]

In just three days I have accomplished the dream of every doctor since the days of Lazarus.

[He grins, toothy and more than a little manic.]

I have made a cure for death.

[spah]

A.

[Honestly, they've done worse. Engie steps through the threshold and walks the rest of the way in, stopping next to Medic.]

Well. Could always use aspirin. [He picks up a bottle and tosses it in his hand.] And the fellas already live off them flavored vitamins for kids.

[Shrugging, he slips a couple in his bag.]

Take it y'all weren't in the pepto-bismol business, though.

[Look, Engie's smart, but it's not hard to figure this out.]

B.

Uh-huh.

[Engie sighs and tucks his pencil behind his ear. Yeah, okay. He's going to knock you out. This is mercy, doc.

Except not really, because just as he stands up, the merc is blinking and staring at the other man.]

Doc, what in blazes are you goin' on about?

b lol

[crabbmarche]

[This town would be a lot more charming without the sense of impending doom, but Spy has still been taking his time wandering through, both to get a feel for hiding spots and ambush points and just to appreciate not being cooped up in the desert.

Of course, as soon as he walks right back into the little hovel they've set up in, for the time being, he's ambushed by Medic. His German is a little rusty, so he catches something about making and death but that's about it.]

Pardon my curtness, docteur, but you look absolutely terrible. Also: what?

BLESS

[malpractitioner]

[Medic waves his hand, dismissing Spy's preemptive apology without a second thought.]

Ja, ja, I know. It doesn't matter. Sleep is for the weak and I have just become a God.

[You'd think that was just a powerful boast, but no. Something about his ecstatic grin and the slightly unhinged look in his eye says he's being completely sincere.]

[crabbmarche]

[Ah, yes. Medic has gone mad with power again. But the look on his face makes Spy think that he should probably hear this out. After all, the man was able to make people invincible.

He quirks an eyebrow and lights up a cigarette now that the adrenaline of having a man run at you screaming in German has worn off.]

Indeed? How so?

Junkrat | Overwatch

[bombatea]

[Well, everyone here is weird. A bunch of misfits and freaks, all hired to blow up some mechanical army that exists for reasons.

Junkrat could not be any happier.

He's actually humming as he sits in the little workshop Engineer had set up, verrrrry carefully tightening up the mechanics of his bombs and mines and traps. He kind of... appropriated a corner of it, covering it with balled-up paper and scribbles and the occasional, hastily-drawn schematic. And scrap metal. Soooo much scrap metal. His only gripe right now is that there isn't a radio playing his kind of music lying around. He can't stand the quiet.

So instead, he hums, occasionally drumming his fingers along to the beat in his head. His RIP-Tire is settled against the desk, and his false leg clashes against the spokes occasionally when he swings his legs.]

[spah]

[Engineer was used to unusual. Junkrat, though... he can't say he expected a guy like this in his workshop. The merc would be be lying if he wasn't pretty damn interested in what the Aussie was doing, though.

So, after fixing up a busted teleporter, he walks up to Junkrat's corner of the shop. Wiping grease off his with a dirty cloth, he greets Junkrat with a nod.]

So. What's that one?

[He gestures to the rip tire.]

[bombatea]

[Junkrat's focused on tightening a screw in a trap that he doesn't respond right away. Finally, his brain registers that he's being talked to, so he puts the screwdriver down, grins over his shoulder, and does a dramatic swing-around in his chair. And promptly almost falls out of it. But he recovers quickly and pats the tire like a proud parent.]

This! Is the RIP-Tire! Remote-controlled, spike... thingies for traction, and packed with enough explosives to do some serious damage.

[He smiles, delighted.]

It's my baby.

[spah]

Huh.

[So far, Engie's pretty impressed. He leans down to take a look at it and taps a finger at one of said spike-thingies.]

Kinda like a rovin' sticky bomb, I take it.