Nine Gauntlets and a Teidar [April Fools: Outsider x Team Fortress 2]
Posted: Wed Apr 01, 2026 4:42 pm
Hello everyone! As it is now April 1st here in California, it is time to upload a silly little scene that I wrote a while ago. Hope you enjoy!
(And for all the people unfamiliar with the absolute insanity that is Team Fortress 2, here's an introduction to one of the mercenaries: Meet the Soldier
^^^^^^^^^
There is a loud whooshing noise, as the world around them spins and blurs into incoherence.
Also screaming.
“Aaaauuuuuugh—” nine thuds echo in quick succession, some louder than others. “Hey, we’re not dead!”
“Speak for yourself, mate.” Comes a voice from the darkness, near the bottom of the pile. “I’m bloody cactus down here — can’t even see what I’ve broken, but I can sure feel it!”
“Don’t vorry – zat can be fixed! Err, when ve get some light, to be exact. Does anybody have a—”
A match flares, casting shadows onto the walls that dance as the nine mercenaries untangle themselves. “Mh kmh m hhmm hm mmkph!”
“We never doubted that, lil’ fella. Anyone besides Sniper need a hand from the Doc?”
“Heavy is fine.”
“Mmm-mmm.”
“I jumped.”
“Negatory.”
“Non.”
One man just belched.
“Well all righty then, where has that wizardin’ fella’ sent us today?” A mechanical hand traces along the walls of the small compartment around them, over gas cylinders stacked in neat piles, clearly-labeled.
In an alphabet that wasn’t anything he’d seen before. “Well, would you look at that. Kinda looks like… Japanese? Maybe Thai?”
“’ts not Japanese, lad.”
“Didn’t take you for the type to know, son.”
“Ach! How’d y’ think I got me hands on this beautiful thing!?” In a flash, a curved sword is drawn and held upright, its steel blade somehow managing to scrape forth an echoing ring from the leather scabbard. “Found a lad ov’r there had even fewer eyes’n me! Poor bastard… anyways, ‘s not Japanese, that.”
“Silence, mes amis. Do you hear that?” The men paused, ears straining to hear the deep rhythmic thrumming of distant machinery. Large machinery.
“Hey, sounds like we’re in one of robot-guy’s old bases! Guess that’s why the walls are grey, too.”
Meanwhile, Soldier had been inspecting the text — if that’s what it was — written in neat lines along the wall. “Good news, ladies! We are not in one of Grey Mann’s factories! We are in—”
“Aww, but I vanted ze money.”
“—are in the fabled city of Atlantis!” He jabbed one finger at the ceiling for emphasis, helmet rocking back and forth.
“Good to know, friend.” Engineer patted him on the shoulder distractedly, still looking around the room while Pyro coaxed the growing flame in the center of the compartment that illuminated the area. “Now, if only we can find out where we actually are…”
“We are in the number-318 Auxiliary Engineering Supplies Compartment.” Soldier explained immediately.
“Good to kn— come again?”
“We are in the number—”
“No, I mean what makes you think that?”
“The label on the wall.” Soldier pointed for emphasis. "'Beio lisenot tellai.'"
“Son… that’s gibberish.”
“Negatory. It is Atlantean.”
“…and you can read Atlantean.”
“Affirmative!”
“Soldier, where did you learn to read Atlantean?”
“In Atlantis.”
“And when were you in… ‘Atlantis?’”
“Seven months ago. Merasmus attempted to send me two weeks forward in time and two blocks down the street to the gas station to come back with the winning lottery numbers. He missed, in both time and space.”
“Aye, that’ll happen.” Demoman observed, as he carefully attempted to fit the razor-sharp sword back into its scabbard. After a wince, he murmured “Ooooh, that smarts.”
“I did not acquire the winning lottery numbers. But I did fight bug-monsters in Atlantis before Merasmus remembered to pull me back!”
“‘Bug-monsters?’” asked an intrigued Medic as his head snapped up, the medi-gun in his hands tracking off of Sniper before the latter pulled it back on-target with a groan.
“They were Yellow, and so were hostile to all good, God-fearing RED and BLU life as we know it!”
“Right, right.” Engineer said. “More on the bug-fellas later. How did you know it was Atlantis? Was it the Australium?”
“Negatory. I did not observe any Australium.”
“So then how did you—?”
“There was a tower reaching far up above, too far to see the end. This could only be a mighty anchor cable linking to the surface!”
“Son, I think that was a space elev—”
“Also, the locals were blue but were not BLU! This was confusing!” Soldier emphasized.
“…say again?”
“The locals were blue, but careful observation showed that they were not working for the hostile BLU menace!”
“But they were blue.”
“Affirmative.”
“A very ztrange development. Perhaps they vere adapted to life on the zeefloor?”
“Medic, if they’d been at the bottom of the ocean, our friend here’d’ve been squashed like a bu— uh, like a rolled steel sheet.” Engineer turned back to the Soldier. “Were the bug-monsters fighting the not-BLUes?”
“Affirmative. The Atlanteans were losing, because they had only a single good RED to lead them!”
Eight pairs of eyes looked around the room, glancing at each other.
“Uh-huh. And who was that?” asked Engineer.
“I did not know her name at that time, but—”
“’She?’” asked Demoman. “Soldier, mate, who’n this room’s a ‘she’?”
Scout raised his hand. “Uh, what about—”
Pyro fixed a silent, unblinking stare on him.
“—you know what, nevermind.”
“She was RED because of her hair! It was as RED as my uniform, and as the RED stripes on our God-given flag!” Soldier exclaimed. “And—”
“Gentlemen.” The Spy interjected. “As amusing as this conversation is, I regret to inform you all that we have good news and we have bad news.”
“Aww, crap.”
“The good news is that I have located what appears to be a door, although its keypad is also labeled in this… ‘Atlantean.’” As Soldier brushed past him to the indicated spot, Spy continued. “The bad news is… that.” He pointed to one corner of the room.
A small box was built into the ceiling, with the face towards them made of glass. And behind the glass, a circular lens moved slightly as it tracked the Spy’s hand, aimed right at it. A cold, blue light blinked next to it. 'Atlantean' or not, it was clearly some sort of security camera.
Spy dropped his arm. “So, it seems that we are likely to have company very soon. May I suggest that—”
“Engineer.” Soldier said. “What number on your building computer is assigned to the sentry?”
The Engineer answered without thinking. “One.” He paused, frowning. “Uh, why do you ask?”
“This compartment is an Auxiliary Engineering Supplies Compartment.” Soldier explained. “It is managed by Engineers. Engineers build sentries. Sentries are number-1. Therefore,” he tapped the same button repeatedly on the console. “the code to this door is—”
The door slid open, silently.
Three women stood outside, two with space-guns held at the ready.
The third stood right in the doorway, flowing red hair framing her armored gray suit… and contrasting the blue skin of her helmet-less head.
“See, RED!” Soldier exclaimed, pointing to the clearly-an-alien’s mane.
The two armed aliens raised their rifles, but paused when their leader waved one hand. Her gaze flicked from one mercenary to another, finishing with a longer look at the Soldier.
She blinked, her other hand coming up to rub tiredly at the bridge of her nose.
Soldier stepped forwards, grinning broadly. In a language that none of his comrades could follow, he exclaimed “[Hello again, Leinnol! You are less small than when I last saw you! I have returned with reinforcements to fight the Bug menace!]”
(And for all the people unfamiliar with the absolute insanity that is Team Fortress 2, here's an introduction to one of the mercenaries: Meet the Soldier
WarningShow
Complete silliness ahead. This story makes no attempts at seriousness, plot, or any logical consistency beyond that which is useful for humor.
There is a loud whooshing noise, as the world around them spins and blurs into incoherence.
Also screaming.
“Aaaauuuuuugh—” nine thuds echo in quick succession, some louder than others. “Hey, we’re not dead!”
“Speak for yourself, mate.” Comes a voice from the darkness, near the bottom of the pile. “I’m bloody cactus down here — can’t even see what I’ve broken, but I can sure feel it!”
“Don’t vorry – zat can be fixed! Err, when ve get some light, to be exact. Does anybody have a—”
A match flares, casting shadows onto the walls that dance as the nine mercenaries untangle themselves. “Mh kmh m hhmm hm mmkph!”
“We never doubted that, lil’ fella. Anyone besides Sniper need a hand from the Doc?”
“Heavy is fine.”
“Mmm-mmm.”
“I jumped.”
“Negatory.”
“Non.”
One man just belched.
“Well all righty then, where has that wizardin’ fella’ sent us today?” A mechanical hand traces along the walls of the small compartment around them, over gas cylinders stacked in neat piles, clearly-labeled.
In an alphabet that wasn’t anything he’d seen before. “Well, would you look at that. Kinda looks like… Japanese? Maybe Thai?”
“’ts not Japanese, lad.”
“Didn’t take you for the type to know, son.”
“Ach! How’d y’ think I got me hands on this beautiful thing!?” In a flash, a curved sword is drawn and held upright, its steel blade somehow managing to scrape forth an echoing ring from the leather scabbard. “Found a lad ov’r there had even fewer eyes’n me! Poor bastard… anyways, ‘s not Japanese, that.”
“Silence, mes amis. Do you hear that?” The men paused, ears straining to hear the deep rhythmic thrumming of distant machinery. Large machinery.
“Hey, sounds like we’re in one of robot-guy’s old bases! Guess that’s why the walls are grey, too.”
Meanwhile, Soldier had been inspecting the text — if that’s what it was — written in neat lines along the wall. “Good news, ladies! We are not in one of Grey Mann’s factories! We are in—”
“Aww, but I vanted ze money.”
“—are in the fabled city of Atlantis!” He jabbed one finger at the ceiling for emphasis, helmet rocking back and forth.
“Good to know, friend.” Engineer patted him on the shoulder distractedly, still looking around the room while Pyro coaxed the growing flame in the center of the compartment that illuminated the area. “Now, if only we can find out where we actually are…”
“We are in the number-318 Auxiliary Engineering Supplies Compartment.” Soldier explained immediately.
“Good to kn— come again?”
“We are in the number—”
“No, I mean what makes you think that?”
“The label on the wall.” Soldier pointed for emphasis. "'Beio lisenot tellai.'"
“Son… that’s gibberish.”
“Negatory. It is Atlantean.”
“…and you can read Atlantean.”
“Affirmative!”
“Soldier, where did you learn to read Atlantean?”
“In Atlantis.”
“And when were you in… ‘Atlantis?’”
“Seven months ago. Merasmus attempted to send me two weeks forward in time and two blocks down the street to the gas station to come back with the winning lottery numbers. He missed, in both time and space.”
“Aye, that’ll happen.” Demoman observed, as he carefully attempted to fit the razor-sharp sword back into its scabbard. After a wince, he murmured “Ooooh, that smarts.”
“I did not acquire the winning lottery numbers. But I did fight bug-monsters in Atlantis before Merasmus remembered to pull me back!”
“‘Bug-monsters?’” asked an intrigued Medic as his head snapped up, the medi-gun in his hands tracking off of Sniper before the latter pulled it back on-target with a groan.
“They were Yellow, and so were hostile to all good, God-fearing RED and BLU life as we know it!”
“Right, right.” Engineer said. “More on the bug-fellas later. How did you know it was Atlantis? Was it the Australium?”
“Negatory. I did not observe any Australium.”
“So then how did you—?”
“There was a tower reaching far up above, too far to see the end. This could only be a mighty anchor cable linking to the surface!”
“Son, I think that was a space elev—”
“Also, the locals were blue but were not BLU! This was confusing!” Soldier emphasized.
“…say again?”
“The locals were blue, but careful observation showed that they were not working for the hostile BLU menace!”
“But they were blue.”
“Affirmative.”
“A very ztrange development. Perhaps they vere adapted to life on the zeefloor?”
“Medic, if they’d been at the bottom of the ocean, our friend here’d’ve been squashed like a bu— uh, like a rolled steel sheet.” Engineer turned back to the Soldier. “Were the bug-monsters fighting the not-BLUes?”
“Affirmative. The Atlanteans were losing, because they had only a single good RED to lead them!”
Eight pairs of eyes looked around the room, glancing at each other.
“Uh-huh. And who was that?” asked Engineer.
“I did not know her name at that time, but—”
“’She?’” asked Demoman. “Soldier, mate, who’n this room’s a ‘she’?”
Scout raised his hand. “Uh, what about—”
Pyro fixed a silent, unblinking stare on him.
“—you know what, nevermind.”
“She was RED because of her hair! It was as RED as my uniform, and as the RED stripes on our God-given flag!” Soldier exclaimed. “And—”
“Gentlemen.” The Spy interjected. “As amusing as this conversation is, I regret to inform you all that we have good news and we have bad news.”
“Aww, crap.”
“The good news is that I have located what appears to be a door, although its keypad is also labeled in this… ‘Atlantean.’” As Soldier brushed past him to the indicated spot, Spy continued. “The bad news is… that.” He pointed to one corner of the room.
A small box was built into the ceiling, with the face towards them made of glass. And behind the glass, a circular lens moved slightly as it tracked the Spy’s hand, aimed right at it. A cold, blue light blinked next to it. 'Atlantean' or not, it was clearly some sort of security camera.
Spy dropped his arm. “So, it seems that we are likely to have company very soon. May I suggest that—”
“Engineer.” Soldier said. “What number on your building computer is assigned to the sentry?”
The Engineer answered without thinking. “One.” He paused, frowning. “Uh, why do you ask?”
“This compartment is an Auxiliary Engineering Supplies Compartment.” Soldier explained. “It is managed by Engineers. Engineers build sentries. Sentries are number-1. Therefore,” he tapped the same button repeatedly on the console. “the code to this door is—”
The door slid open, silently.
Three women stood outside, two with space-guns held at the ready.
The third stood right in the doorway, flowing red hair framing her armored gray suit… and contrasting the blue skin of her helmet-less head.
“See, RED!” Soldier exclaimed, pointing to the clearly-an-alien’s mane.
The two armed aliens raised their rifles, but paused when their leader waved one hand. Her gaze flicked from one mercenary to another, finishing with a longer look at the Soldier.
She blinked, her other hand coming up to rub tiredly at the bridge of her nose.
Soldier stepped forwards, grinning broadly. In a language that none of his comrades could follow, he exclaimed “[Hello again, Leinnol! You are less small than when I last saw you! I have returned with reinforcements to fight the Bug menace!]”