And finally, in one sudden, violent motion, they pulled their mask off of their head and into their lap. They nodded, opening another drawer and finding a handheld mirror within, handing it over to Spy, who had located scissors. “Do you have a mirror?” Spy asked, the very picture of nonchalance, and somehow that settled Pyro just a little. Their gloves, the edge of their mask, the seam of their sleeve. general issue chair from its matching desk-turned-vanity mirror, and gestured for Pyro to sit, sifting through the drawer in search of scissors. He didn’t cast looks around the room despite the eye-catching clutter of knickknacks that covered most surfaces. Spy waited patiently for those moments, knowing that this was a bit of a big deal for the firebug.Īnd finally, they nodded, and gestured Spy inside. Moments of Pyro just looking at him, moments of Pyro looking off to one side in thought, and a moment where they raised one hand to grip at the point where their mask and suit connected. There were a few moments of silence that followed. “And, to be blunt, you do not have very many alternatives.” “I have needed to cut my own for years now, cutting yours should be no problem,” Spy reasoned. “What if I told you that I know how to cut hair?” Spy asked finally. “.Nobody who knows how to cut hair,” Spy self-corrected, and Pyro nodded again. “And I’m presuming there is nobody in the base who you trust to cut it?”Ī series of mumbles, a few quizzical gestures. Your hair is getting too long?” Spy asked, and Pyro nodded, no less downcast. Spy tilted his own curiously, eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to figure out what they meant. Pyro tiredly pantomimed a pair of scissors up near their head. “What, precisely, is the problem, if you don’t mind my asking?” “Does the problem have something to do with your face?” Spy asked.Īfter a few tense moments, Pyro nodded, sullen and slump-shouldered. A few moments passed where he heard movement within, and then Pyro unlocked and opened their door. He simply knocked on the door to Pyro’s room one day before everyone was supposed to turn in. “Are you ill? I can treat most ailments,” Medic said later. “Are you mad at us or somethin’?” Scout asked one day, abruptly, somehow not gathering the attention of all of the others. Sniper noticed that suddenly he was being backstabbed a lot more, and Engie noticed his builds staying up for shorter amounts of time. “Y’alright there, Firebug?” Demo asked, and Pyro visibly jumped, then just mumbled out something, forcing their hands down to their sides miserably and getting up to leave the rec room altogether. Pyro mumbled something in return, continuing past without stopping to chat.ĭemo was the next one to pick up on something being wrong, catching sight of Pyro in the common area at one point, tugging and adjusting their mask fretfully, movements slightly irritable. “You’re droppin’ on the scoreboard real quick-like.” “Buddy, are you doin’ alright?” Engie asked after a day or two of it as Pyro passed by leaving Respawn, having looked up from the teleporter he was working on. It was Engie who first noticed it-Pyro’s sudden drop in performance, missing Spychecks and losing enemies more quickly, not noticing adversaries at all sometimes until it was too late. The nature of Pyro as an individual was shrouded in mystery, even moreso than Spy, and the mercs all had enough respect to keep it that way until Pyro decided to open up to them, if that happened at all.īut sometimes, it came with. And at that point, after a few years, they were all a little scared to ask. But none of the team (save for, perhaps, Medic) knew how old they were, or what they looked like, or even if they were a guy. They were an adult, definitely, because the Administrator has rules about who was hired-never anyone under the age of 22.
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