Forums » General Roleplay » The Lost Scout (1x1 with Claine)

Cynthia felt horrible. She'd ran away from BLU. She didn't know exactly why, and if anyone would ask, she wouldn't know what to do. She didn't have her uniform on at the moment, but she did have her weapons and equipment with her. After a while, her legs were ready to give out, so she sat down next to a rock. she leaned back and fell asleep almost immediately.

The sun had just risen, and of course - Dale was the first one ready and out on the battlefield. Why was everybody else on his team so slow? He pulled the grey cap down over his eyes before leaving from the RED team encampment for a quick early morning jog.

He had not been running for long when he came across a body of a young girl. He stopped, eyeing it carefully from the distance. Was she dead? After a moment, she moved slightly. No - not dead. Only sleeping. Whoever she was, she was not a BLU - she wasn't wearing their uniform. She couldn't stay here. Very soon this entire area would be a cacophony of explosions and destruction. He rolled his eyes to himself. What kind of person just falls asleep in a place like this?

He groaned as he slowly approached her, tapping her with the tip of his baseball bat. "Hey, get up."

Cynthia woke up slowly, here vision going from blurry to clear. When she spotted the scout in a red uniform, she responded quickly. She rolled to her right, grabbed her shotgun as she went and got into a crouching position and aimed it at him. She may not be with BLU anymore, but RED had been her enemy al her life.

Dale ground his teeth together as the girl took aim at him with a scatter gun - not too different from his own. He was young, but well used to people pointing guns at him. His face twisted into a scowl, and dashed towards the girl. He aimed carefully with his bat for the girl's hands to knock the gun away.

Cynthia, who was still too tired, didn't see the move coming in time. Before she could pull away, the bat hit her hands and sent the gun flying to the ground, out of her reach. She shrank back against the rock - her defensive attitude suddenly changed to a vulnerable one.

Dale felt a the fleshy -thwack- of the bat as it smashed across her hands. The gun flew away, landing with a clatter several feet behind them. He leant on his bat as he looked down at the girl - his lips curled into a growl.

"Alright," he began - his thick Boston accent slurring the vowels, "who the hell are you?"

The girl remained silent for a while as she shrank back from the glare pointed at her. "C-Cynthia..." she replied, hoping he wouldn't know the name. She hadn't been long with BLU, but you never knew.

That answer didn't clear up anything! Dale certainly hadn't heard of her before. She probably wasn't from around here - some of the other guys on the team were always worried far too much about their real names being used. Still - that didn't excuse her pointing the gun at him. Normal folk just don't do that!

Except maybe Detroiters. And Bostonians. And New Yorkers.

Okay, perhaps it wasn't too unusual.

"What are you doing here," his voice was no longer angry, but instead one of genuine confusion.

Cynthia didn't know what to reply to his question. Dale was obviously confused, but he seemed to have calmed down now. Still, he was with RED, and even though she left BLU a few days ago, he might still kill her for it. She decided to compromise. "I'm just walking around." she replied, knowing that would probably sound stupid.

At the girl's answer, Dale furrowed his brow. "Let me get this straight. You were out for a walk at night," and stepped towards her, "in a completely unremarkable industrial complex," he stepped even closer, "while being armed." He grinned down at her. "That makes sense to me. Hey wait a minute -" sarcasm dripped from his voice. "I may be an idiot, but I'm not an idiot."

He pointed a thin finger right at the girl, "Now you better start coughing up the truth or I'll... I'll uuuh," he hadn't thought that far ahead. He had to say something quickly! "...drag you back to base." Somebody there would know what to do.

Ignore :B

Cynthia's eyes went wide in fear. "Please, don't do that!" she stammered as she chose her words. "Allright, I'll tell you everything." she sighed. "I'm a BLU scout. Or, at least, I was. I ran away."

"Huh, you are?" he tapped his foot idly as he tried his best to recall the face of the opposite team's scout. Travelling as fast as Dale does - useless details like faces occasionally slip his mind.

He laughed to himself as he recalled the memory of a recent battle. "So you're the knucklehead I've been running circles around?"

"I'm not a knucklehead!" Cynthia replied fiercely.

"Oh really?" Dale taunted - wide, playful smile across his face. "You look like a knucklehead to me."

Cynthia shot forward, headbutting him in the stomach. She then looked up, confused at what she'd done. Did she just... confirm his saying she was a knucklehead?

Dale fell back as the girl rammed him in the suddenly. He groaned, grasping his stomach as he staggered to his feet. It didn't hurt badly, but it caught him off guard. The humour had been completely drained from Dale's face. In a single quick movement, he reached for his pistol and aimed it at the girl.

"Alright BLU, start talking." They were enemies after all. Dale had been uncharastically patient with her. Anybody else on the team would've killed her already. "What are you doing out here?"

Resistance was firing up in Cynthia. "I told you, i rana way!" she scowled at him. "Put the gun away, you allready disarmed me."

"Well then get out of here." Dale didn't care she ran away from BLU. It just meant one less mercenary on the battle today, right? Was good for RED. "My team's gonna be out soon, and they aint gonna be as charming and generous as me."

"Generous?" Cynthia replied with a smirk. "I've got a goddamn gun in my face!"