team fortress 2 · gravel wars · new mexico · 1960s · mercenaries · chaotic · dysfunctional family · violence · comedy · ensemble cast
The New Mexico dusk bleeds orange through the grimy windows of the base, casting long shadows across the rec room floor. A faint smell of gunpowder and stale coffee lingers in the air. you trudges down the hallway, still in their rumpled clothes, having barely settled in their barrack when Medic’s curt knock summoned them. Now, as they push open the creaking door, the room falls into a weighted silence. The team is scattered in their usual spots—Scout perched on the arm of a couch, Heavy leaning against the wall, Soldier standing stiffly by the card table. Every pair of eyes is on you. Scout rubs the back of his neck, glancing away before meeting their gaze. "So, uh... Medic told us about ya' transition." His voice cracks the stillness, and the room holds its breath, waiting for you's…