A Mercenary's Venture

by The Fateweaver

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Crossover
Length: 1012

A BLU mercenary ends up in Equestria

Damian Callaghan is no ordinary person. He's a lonesome yet clinically insane mercenary hired to fight in endless squabbles over somewhat useless gravel pits alongside nine other unique mercenaries against equally identical mercenaries. So what does he do when he ends up in Equestria?

No idea, but chaoticness is sure to follow.

(TF2xMLP:FiM Crossover. OC Warning)

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-03-14 12:37:13 UTC

The Teleportation Theory

It was relatively quiet within the confines of Teufort, relatively only being used loosely. Today was a day of cease-fire; when the Administrator had grown tired of watching the two groups of mercenaries slaughter each other without end she was allow this. Inside of the BLU fort in the war room, the other nine mercenaries while Soldier scribbled furiously on a whiteboard with a blue marker. On closer inspection, the existing drawing on the board was a detailed map of the battlefield. Soldier was making additions for his plan for how tomorrow’s match was going to go. Most of the others pointed out obvious flaws in his plan, but the American patriot ignored them and kept piecing together his ‘brilliant battle plan’.

One of the mercenaries, a recent addition to the team, payed no attention to any of them as he absentmindedly sketched a round, balloon-like creature wearing a backwards snapback with a paintbrush in its fingerless grasp on a book full of other sketches. This particular person wore grey running shoes, denim jeans, a faded black hoodie with blue trim and a navy courier bag was strapped to his back. Lustrous black hair hung down in front of his right eye, his left eye a piercing green. He was known as Damian Callaghan, hailing from Wales in Great Britain. Scout lost interest in mocking Soldier and wandered over to Damian, who was busy sketching a paint can in the creature’s free arm.

“What ya drawin’?” Scout asked with a Bostonian accent, peering over Damian’s book to see what was drawn on the page.

“Kirby,” Damian replied  in his own South Welsh accent. “Paint Kirby to be more specific. Season three any good?”

“Yeah, kinda short though. There’s only thirteen episodes; I feel like Hasbro shirked us out of a longer season.”

“Really?” Damian closed the book, giving Scout his full attention. “Maybe they’re setting up for a dramatic season four premiere. Most television programs do that nowadays. Who’d you say your favourite pony was again?”

“Rainbow Dash, brotha. She’s the fastest pony, much like myself. You?”

“I like Octavia a lot, despite lacking a voice actor, some of the fan-created stuff on the web portrays her really well.”

“MAGGOTS, WE ARE TRYING TO FORMULATE A BATTLE PLAN, BUT YOU TWO SLACKERS ARE HINDERING OUR PROGRESS!” Soldier boomed in their general direction, his voice carrying anger.

“Maybe if your plan didn’t have more loopholes than Swiss cheese, we’d actually listen,” Damian levelled an equal glare to match Soldier’s.

“MAGGOT, MY PLAN OF ATTACK IS SO FOOLPROOF THAT THE ENEMY WON’T EVEN EXPECT IT COMING!”

“Is that so? Then why should I set my traps out in the damn open if they won’t see them?”

“THEY WILL BE LULLED INTO A FALSE SENSE OF SECURITY, BUT THAT IS WHERE THEY WILL FAIL!”

Soldier’s raised voice had finally took a toll on Damian’s poor eardrums, who winced in pain as it set in.

“Fine,” He muttered aloud, taking a glance at the makeshift map to see the locations where his traps were meant to be as he walked out of the war room.  “I’ll go set the bloody traps.”

As the team’s technician, Damian job was to set traps upon the battlefield, control personal defence bots and defend chokepoints on the field, much like Engineer. And he did just that, going outside into the snow-layered base and setting up various mixes of claymore mines and bear traps in the ‘strategic’ positions Soldier had marked. As Damian carefully set up the last of the bear traps, all the while avoiding the razor-sharp teeth of the devices, he heard something shatter skyward. Standing upright, he turned his attention to the sky, now seeing an unnatural distortion of light.

Otherwise known as a rainbow.

Oddly enough, the rainbow didn’t seem to have neither an origin nor a end. It was just straight. Damian retrieved a quiver full of varying arrows and a hardwood recurve bow with black tape on it from the infinitely-expanding courier bag on his back, taking a snowy-white arrow with rainbow-like illusions radiating off the stem and nocking it on the bowstring. He levelled the readied bow with the middle of the endless rainbow, drawing back the readied arrow and string into full tension. He let go of the string, sending the arrow zooming off into the sky and its reaches. The colourful arrow collided with the equally colourful rainbow, punching a medium-sized hole straight through it. The result was some sort of explosion in the sky, followed by Damian getting blown through the air like a rag doll in a power fan into the side of the fort’s wall.

“Weird,” He mused as he got back up, mystified by the arrow’s less-than-expected reaction with the rainbow. “The Prisma arrow never reacted like that before…”

His bow lay idle on the ground a few feet away from where he was standing, faint crackles of rainbow-esque sparks arcing off the bow’s wooden surface. Ignoring the evident side effects of his actions, he paced over to where his bow lay and picked it up. A tingling sensation coursed through Damian’s arm as he retrieved his fallen bow, causing it to become numb as he slung the bow onto his back, the bowstring clinging onto his torso.

Within a instant, the sensation had spread all over his body and made his light-headed. A dull throbbing in his head was added into Damian’s current problem as well as a bright flashing that forced him to squeeze his eyes shut in an effort to block out the ensuing temporary blindness. Instead of the standard gravely ground of Teufort, Damian felt dry grass on his fingers as he opened his eyes and got a inverted view of a foreboding forest.

“Okay, since when was random teleportation a side effect of making a rainbow explode?” Damian thought to himself as he got up and brushed the dead grass off of his chest, his head panning around his surroundings.

“Out of the frying pan and into the fire, I guess.”