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

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?

[malpractitioner]

[Medic is entirely undeterred by Spy's lack of enthusiasm - he's got more than enough to make up for the Frenchman's deficit, and then some.]

Aheh. Allow me to answer your question with one of my own.

[He grins, sharp and toothy, and neatly folds his arms behind his back. He leans forward a bit, speaking in a low, hushed tone as though the information he is about to share is strictly confidential.]

Are you Mortal, Herr Spy? Because I'm not.

[crabbmarche]

[Ok. Spy is used to Medic being a little weird. A lot weird, actually. But this is a whole other level of mania that is, quite frankly, a little concerning. Spy lowers his cigarette, furrowing his brow.]

I am not, either. At least, that I know of.

[Asking questions about mortality usually isn't a good indication of the direction a conversation is going.]

[malpractitioner]

[Hold on to your ludicrously expensive pants, Spy, because things are only going to get weirder from here.]

Aheh. And what would you say if I told you you could never be killed, hmm? Not permanently, anyway.

[crabbmarche]

[$10,000 isn't that expensive. Not if you have any class, anyway.

Still. That does it. He is now officially and genuinely intrigued.]

I would say that morally, it sounds disturbing. But in the context of the moment, that would be incredibly helpful.

[malpractitioner]

[Hahahaha, oh Spy. As if Medic has ever cared about being morally disturbing.]

Wunderbar.

[NOT EVEN GONNA ASK, JUST GONNA GRAB FOR SPY'S ARM AND TRY TO WHISK HIM AWAY ON AN ADVENTURE.]

[crabbmarche]

[And off they go. Spy nearly swallows his cigarette as he's whisked away, but thankfully manages to keep from getting a throatful of lit nicotine and ash.]

I take it you have made a discovery?

[Still intrigued. Definitely more concerned.]

[malpractitioner]

Better than that, my friend. I have made history.

[Or rather, he would make history if he ever actually patented and released his innovations to the public instead of just preforming medical miracles for the fun of it.]

[crabbmarche]

[Look. Spy's not a man of science. He gets light refraction and whatnot but everything else just kind of goes in one ear and out the other. But even he's smart enough to know that two plus two is four. History being made, questions about mortality. There's only one way this can logically go.

But he can't really ask any more questions that haven't already been asked, so he keeps quiet and lets Medic lead him. Whatever it is, it's got to be big for Medic to be having delusions of grandeur again.]

[malpractitioner]

[It doesn't take long to reach the infirmary - or rather, the re-purposed storage room that Medic has utilized for his own bizarre purposes.]

[...Look, it's a room with medical stuff in it, that makes it an infirmary as far as Medic's concerned.]

Here we are. Please, have a seat.

[He gestures to a nearby gurney, which...isn't the most unsettling place to sit, but damn if it isn't close.]

This won't take but a moment.

[Without bothering to see whether or not Spy actually sits down, Medic turns on his heel and cheerfully turns towards the other end of the room to retrieve his medigun.]

[crabbmarche]

[This seems like foreshadowing. Spy raises an eyebrow, but Medic is gone to retrieve his medigun by the time he thinks of something to ask. He doesn't sit down, but he does lean against it comfortably, finishing off his first cigarette and starting to light up another as he waits and catches his breath.]

[malpractitioner]

[It only takes Medic a moment to find what he's looking for - its some sort of metal contraption that's vaguely boxy and more than a little cumbersome. It looks heavy, but Medic carries it over with ease and holds it out for Spy to inspect, as though expecting the poor man to actually have any idea what he's looking at.]

This, my friend, is what the Americans would call a game changer.

[crabbmarche]

[It's a nice box, is all he can think of saying at the moment. But he holds his tongue; that is not a term to be used lightly in this business.]

Indeed? So I imagine it's what's inside this device that's important.

[malpractitioner]

[At that, Ludwig laughs. It's not a nice sounding laugh, but that can probably be chalked up to the fact that he generally looks and sounds smug evil even without trying to.]

Ja. Would you care to guess what that might be?

[Something horrible or existentially unsettling, probably.]

[crabbmarche]

[Spy's almost used to the accidentally evil-sounding laughs and smiles. Almost. It actually takes some effort to think of a retort, and he waves his hand once he does.]

If it's Pandora's box, docteur, I'd refrain from opening it.

[malpractitioner]

[That shark-like grin doesn't falter, even in the face of Spy's less-than-enthusiastic response.]

Eheh. No, it's nothing so insidious as that. Quite the opposite, really.

[He sets the device on the gurney next to Spy, giving it a fond pat before he abruptly turns around and crosses to the other side of the room to retrieve his medigun.]

Would you care for a demonstration?

[He asks this over his shoulder, not really caring for Spy's answer. He's going to do what he wants regardless.]

[crabbmarche]

Alright. Let's see what this does.

[Spy rubs his hand together, watching as Medic flits around the room and making sure the box-like thing is stable on the gurney. The opposite of Pandora's box? This is going to be interesting.

This poor sap has no idea what's about to happen.]

[malpractitioner]

[Maybe it's because he's questionably sane at the best of times, maybe it's because he doesn't see what the big deal is about bringing harm to someone else so long as you fix it afterward - whatever the reason, Medic never stops to think that maybe what he's about to do isn't cool.]

I promise, you won't be disappointed.

[That sure is a funny thing to say to someone right before turning around and trying to shoot them between the eyes from half-way across the room.]

[crabbmarche]

[It's only when Medic says that that Spy frowns and looks up to ask what that's supposed to mean.

Which he only does half a second before Medic pulls the trigger. Which, even for him, is not nearly enough time to react.

All of his weight against the gurney knocks it back - not enough for it to fall over, but enough to roll back as he slumps to the floor. His eyes are still open, expression equal parts surprised and dead.

Well, there's a dead Frenchman on the floor now. Way to go!]

[malpractitioner]

[Huh. That was a lot easier than he thought.]

[Medic blinks, looking from Spy's body to the gun in his hand, wondering if he should wait for it to stop smoking before activating the medigun. Shrugging, Medic decides to flip the gun's switch and pull its lever, reasoning that it really doesn't matter if Spy comes back to life to see him with a literal smoking gun in his hand. While there is a slight chance his memories immediately prior to the shooting might not come back along with the rest of him, Medic's not going to hedge his bets on it.]

[Honesty is the best policy, and all that.]

[Whistling a jaunty tune, Medic waltzes right on over to Spy's body, watching calmly as the medigun activates the reanimator, allowing it to work its magic.]

Guten Morgen, Sunshine! The Earth says Hallo.

[crabbmarche]

[It's a weird sensation. As the Reanimator activates, Spy jerks to an upright sitting position with a deep, rattling gasp. And he's very clearly panicked, as one is when you've just come back from being shot in the head.

He feels his forehead; his fingers come back bloodied, but there are no physical marks. He just stares at his fingers for a long moment before remembering he's not alone and glances up to Medic with wide eyes and an open mouth.

Spy is speechless for all of ten seconds before he sees the gun in Medic's hand, and his expression fades to absolute disgust.]

What the hell just happened.

[malpractitioner]

[WELL HOW'S THAT FOR A THANK YOU.]

[It's not like he just defied all medical science to bring you back from the dead or anything, gosh.]

[Nevermind the fact he's the reason Spy was dead in the first place.]

Exactly what I promised!

[He said it wouldn't be disappointing, not that it wouldn't be lethal.]

[crabbmarche]

You -

[Spy tries to stand. Unfortunately, his body's still catching up to the whole 'not dead' thing so he loses his grip on the gurney and falls again as he's hit with vertigo.

He allows himself to take a few deep breaths before he continues, bewildered.]

You shot me.

[Once the vertigo wears off, however, he looks back up, expression becoming more... confused.]

...But... I'm alive?

[malpractitioner]

Ja, I did.

[Not even gonna deny it, not that he could convince anyone he didn't in the first place what with the smoking gun in his hand.]

And yes, you are.

[He grins, spreading his arms out in a wide showman's flourish.]

You're welcome!