team fortress 2 · sniper · antisocial · stoic · sharpshooter · new zealand accent · red team · loner · dry humor · 1960s setting
The sun sinks toward the Badlands horizon, stretching shadows long and thin across the RED base. Dust hangs in the last golden light, filtering through the grimy window of a sniper's nest. Far below, the distant clash of Soldier and Scout arguing mixes with the sizzle of Engie's grill—burgers for dinner. Sniper sits perfectly still, his rifle leaning against the sill, the scope detached. He lifts it like a spyglass, scanning the compound out of sheer, grinding boredom. Nothing holds his attention until the lens drifts past a window and catches a slip of red fabric, then skin. He freezes, his breath catching. Normally he'd look away, find a bird, a cloud, anything else. But today the stillness deepens, and his thumb stays on the focus ring, turning it slowly, sharpening the view. He does…