Dr Lovecraft — Roleplayer Guild

The Medic: Word Count: 3,023 (+3 Exp)
Level: 1	Exp: ////////// (0/10)
Location: Sandswept Sky (desert): Vah Naboris at Lakeside
@DracoLunaris's Princess Midna, @Lugubrious's Tori and Poppi, @Archmage MC's Queen Sectionia, @ONL's Heavy Weapons Guy, @Dawnrider's Fox McCloud

"Mission begins in thirty seconds!" The Administrator's voice called down to the color coded teams RED and BLUE as they made their last minute, or half-minute, preparations. As the members of RED crammed near the orange gate separating them from their victims, the Medic rushed over to a medical cabinet. He could hear his patients mocking him and his choice to bring his Crusader's Crossbow. The Medic could easily explain that, as combat wasn't really an option for him in the first place, it made more sense for him to replace his Syringe Gun with something that would allow him to heal from beyond the medium-range of the Medi-Gun. He could have, but he didn't, knowing that half the assembled team lacked the technological understanding to grasp his meaning, such as the medieval Knight he had practically had to tie down to keep the idiot from trying to "leech out all the bad blood" the last time his allergies acted up.

	Letting out a small, quiet sigh, the Medic opened the cabinet, intending to grab a small bottle of chemical that, when injected, would act either as a small healing salve or a low-grade poison, depending on the color clothes worn by the user. This was something that, in truth, the Medic himself did not understand. Every time he tried to devote any kind of thought to it, however, something would interrupt him. "Mission begins in TEN SECONDS!" The Administrator shouted once more. Ja, like zat. The Medic thought in frustration. Not finding the bottle he needed, the Medic made a mad dash for the other medical cabinet at the other end of the spawn, the Administrator's voice informing him of how little time he had left. "Five... four..." She taunted as the medic flung open the second cabinet's doors. Scanning desperately, he found the bottle he was looking for! He reached in and grabbed it, only to immediately realize that it was far lighter than it should have been. Twisting the cap off, the Medic could see there were only two syringes left! They must have been raided by one of the more modern members, though he didn't put it past the 'roiding viking on their team. "Dumme suchtige!" He hissed as the Administrator continued her relentless countdown. "Three...! Two...!! ONE!!!" She cried, her bloodlust becoming audibly orgasmic. The Medic loaded one of his two syringes as he ran out onto the field, the orange gates collapsing with the sound of the air ride siren, signaling the beginning of the round. "Fight to the death!" The Administrator commanded, and though he was no soldier, the Medic obeyed.

	No sooner had the Medic exited his spawn than he was pelted with a painful hail of bullets as an old Soldier chased him back through the door before firing a volley of rockets at the Heavy. Groaning painfully, the Medic retreated back into the spawn, hiding within. He spent a few moments pulling bullets out of his body, groaning as his health slowly returned. He then rushed back out to assist his team, as was his role. As he charged into the fray, he saw that same Soldier on the ground near the point, as were the Knight and Raider. They had both been knocked to the floor by a man with an impractically large Shield. With his large physique and magnificent mustache, he looked shockingly similar to Saxton Ha-... Vait, who? The Medic's mind had, for some reason, conjured the image of a giant Australian man, wearing only a hat, shoes, and what could very loosely be defined as "shorts". His mind's eye was full of continent-shaped chest hair when the sound of one giant man striking another erupted in front of the Medic, snapping him out of his momentary stupor and back to the task at hand.

	Taking aim, the Medic fired a syringe directly into the back of the Heavy's skull, recovering his latest wound, but not much else. "Guten tag!" He greeted the Heavy. "Medic!" The Heavy shouted, grinning. "You are great doctor! Let us kill BLU now!" While the Medic didn't have many people he would consider friends, the Heavy was definitely one. Unlike the rest of the mercs in this desert, they had worked together for many years, and faced all kin- TKOOM!! the thunder of a rifle cracked the air. Looking up, the Medic saw an enemy sniper, sitting rather stupidly in plain sight. "Ready to practice medicine!" He taunted, firing his last syringe at the sniper. She dodged it easily, but was chased away by their medieval team mates. “Das ist gut! Ze lead is ours!!” He announced, hoping to rally his comrades. Unfortunately, the universe loved to prove the Medic wrong, and no sooner had he said it than the rest of BLUE seemed to appear, surrounding them. To be fair, the Medic conceded as he switched to his Medi-Gun. I did sell mein soul. It makes sense zat ze... The Medic shook his head violently, letting out an audible groan of frustration. It was as if someone else's memories kept trying to shove their way into his mind. He briefly considered that he might be going mad, but as he didn't see that as anything to worry about, he instead focused on keeping the Heavy alive. He was no pocket-medic, but hiding behind the yeti of a man was the best way to ensure the control point remained theirs. The Heavy, on the other hand, seemed thrilled, shouting "Good! Heavy was afraid this would be boring match."

	Fortunately, help arrived in the form of their resident super soldier, who vaulted over both the Medic and Heavy to attack the shield man and his own knight. A moment later there was an explosion of red paint as a wounded squid child arrived. With the enemies temporarily dispatched, the small creature emerged from it's paint puddle and tugged on the Medic's coat, saying something in a language that sounded like drowning. Spotting the injury on it's shoulder, however, it was not hard to determine what the creature wanted. The Medic switched targets long enough to both heal and over-heal his strange little team mate. "DIE COWARDS!" the Heavy cried out, unleashing a torrent of bullets on the other team. After only a few moments, however, the Medic heard the familiar click click click of Sasha running out of ammo. The Heavy roared in frustration as he charged the Shield. The Medic watched in awe as the Heavy pummeled the Shield into submission, all the while the Spartan was engaged in a knife fight with an Assassin the Medic had not seen. Eventually the point was captured to the deafening battle cries of the Heavy Weapons Guy. "Zere ve go. Gud as new!" He said, sending the squid-child on her way once she was over-healed.

	There was a momentary pause in the match, during which the Medic attempted to catch his breath. As he pondered whether to have his human shield charge forward and capture or remain behind and defend, his eyes landed on the crumpled body of the Spartan, evidently done in by the more skilled Assassin. Suddenly another rifle shot rang out directly behind him. Gasping, the Medic spun around and saw the Assassin herself crumple to the ground, her blade poised for a back stab. Only the Medic didn't see the Assassin, nor the Infiltrator who had saved him. Instead, his vision flashed to an image of himself, only for that "him" to erupt into smoke, revealing a French man in a rubber mask and expensive zoot suit. The butterfly knife fell out of his hands as another, thinner Australian shot him through a scoped rifle. On his back the Sniper wore a wooden shield to protect from this exact scenario. Then Blue Poison cried out as she was tackled by the inkling, the shout bringing Medic slamming back to reality, and the dead Assassin in front of him. "Vat is happening!?" He shouted, grabbing the sides of his head. He didn't even notice the dwarf flee.

	The rest of the round went off more or less without a hitch. Eventually RED was announced the winners and most of them spent a few moments to power trip, chasing the BLUE members all the way into their spawn points to assert their dominance. Once the blood sport was over, they were allowed a small time to wander the map, free of duty or obligation for the time being. As the Medic put away the spent crossbow and retrieved his Syringe Gun, he overheard the Totem, a fellow healer, mention that Medic's late arrival had been the key to victory. "Zat reminds me." The Medic said loudly. "Eet vould seem zat somevon haz been schtealing supplize from ze medical cabinets! Zose are for healing, not recreational use! If you must affect your brhain chemistry, come to your healer first so zey can at least take notes! Zese medicines are all highly experimental and must be studied! Danka shon!" Good help was so hard to find, it sometimes felt like the other healers didn't even want to experiment on their patients. What was worse, nobody seemed to be paying any attention to him! It wasn't until the Soldier ineloquently inquired as to the "big camel" that the Medic turned around. Outside, far off from the map, a colossal, robotic camel made entirely of ceramics loomed, it's single, cycloptic eye staring down at them. "Uh-oh… Is this new BLU weapon? Tiny baby men need giant camel to win? Doctor, what is that thing?" The Heavy asked, both confused and impatient. Unfortunately, the good doctor had no answer to offer. "In my medical opinion, I have never seen anything like this before." That wasn't entirely true, he had seen massive robots before. Maybe not that large, maybe not camels, but he had helped fight off massive robots sent by...? by...?? by...?!?! But the answer wouldn't come. The Medic groaned aloud once more. Unlike the rest of these jarheads and cretins, the Medic's brain was his absolute most important strength, and the idea that, mad or not, it wasn't serving him infuriated him to no end. Perhaps he'd get the Totem to look him over after the next round.

	Suddenly, a massive, etheral hand sprouted from the top of the camel's head, waving at them in what seemed a friendly manner. Dumbfounded, the Medic slowly waved back at it, not sure how to interpret the gesture. Just as suddenly, a young, cybernetic woman flew into the group of mercenaries, waving more enthusiastically than the camel's head-hand. She was soon joined by a giant bee or wasp with beautiful butterfly wings and some sort of were-wolf in a flight suit. Fox. Were-fox. The cyborg, android, whatever, introduced herself as Poppi, and her companions as Queen Sectionia and... Fox. Zey're vurse at naming zings zen I am! The Medic thought, looking the vulpine pilot over. Despite her lack of syntax, Poppi was able to communicate their reason for coming, that being to recruit extra guns for some kind of "save the world" type mission. The majority of the mercs laughed her off, though the Medic respected her clear thinking. Where else were they meant to fill out their ranks? The problem, in Medic's mind, was that of payment. Mann Co. was the leading supplier of arms for governments across the world, it was unlikely even a queen would have the money to buy any of them.

	The Medic had just begun to wonder why he hadn't seen more of Mann Co. themselves when his thoughts were once again interrupted, this time by a loud "Ahem!" It was apparently the large insects turn to speak, which she evidently could. She prattled on for a bit about abstracts like beauty and purpose. The Medic knew what was beautiful and what his purpose was, both of those being the eternal quest for knowledge. However, she did manage to peak his interest when mentioning former allies. Visions of RED team, the real ones, Reliable Excavation Demolition, briefly danced through his head. The thoughts were literally shaken away, though, when the Heavy grabbed the Medic, violently shaking him while screaming about those same team members. The ape-man's eyes begged for answers, but Medic was just as lost as he was. Two people can't share delusions, could they? He didn't know, he was a medical doctor, not a psychiatrist! "Heavy, I… I don't know, zis iz very strange, und how do ve know ve truzt zem?"Zen again? He mentally countered. Eess it really zat much stranger zan ze ink-child I healed no less zen ten minutes ago?

	As the Medic pondered, the Heavy decided. The Russian bear made his way over to the newcomers, making it clear that if there were even a .001% chance the real RED was out there, he was going to take it. This was the Heavy Ludwig had come to respect, further cementing the idea that he had had another team before this. As Fox began making his own speech, Medic walked up and stood proudly next to his most faithful patient and test subject. "Guten tag! I am ze Medic. You may refer to me as such, or as Doctor, Doc, etc." He introduced himself, bowing in the presence of royalty. He suspected she was less politcal royalty and more genetic royalty, being insectoid, but royalty was royalty. Listening in on the tail end of Fox's speech, it was clear that, unlike his female companions, Fox knew his way around battlefields, troops, and mercenaries alike. It looked like this new team was gaining quite a bit of traction. But, just like everything today, it was interrupted.

“What. Is. THIS!?” The Administrator's voice rang out from every speaker in she had access to. “Intruders! Unknown assailants, in the rec room! Mercenaries, destroy them!” Some of the other mercs tried to appeal to her sense of reason, but they didn't know her. This woman was not reasonable, she... she... She's dying! The Medic remembered, true terror gripping him as the world began to shatter around him. She took ze Australium und ran! Zats vhy ve vere attacked by Gray Mann! Zat's vhy I left! In a moment of pure instinct, the Medic raised a gloved finger and pointed it accusingly at the nearest speaker. "Ze Administrator ist a SPY!!!" He shouted, the words erupting from him before he himself could properly process them. Things quickly became heated, and in a bid to regain order over the mercenaries, the Administrator scrambled the teams. As the remaining mercs chose their teams, the defectors and strangers fled, making their way to cover, towards the camel that apparently served as their mobile base. The Medic stuck close to the Heavy during the ensuing fire-fight, trying to give him a healthy layer of Over-Heal before the next match started. As they continued to retreat, the Spartan emerged. Caught in the throws of what the Medic could only imagine was brain-numbing stupidity, the Heavy threw his gun down and pointed his bare finger at the super soldier as if it was a gun!!! The Medic was understandably dumbfounded when the Spartan flew backwards, as if shot with a shotgun at point blank range. There was no damage to the armor, but the Medic could see blood leaking out. As the Heavy continued covering they're retreat, the Medic couldn't help but shout "AMAZING, COMRADE!!!" A bolt of lightning suddenly struck a small group of advancing mercenaries, reminding the Medic that he needed to get moving.

	As they reached the massive camel, it leaned down to them, revealing a large staircase. The Medic hid behind the Heavy as he continued providing covering fire. The Medic angled his Medi-Gun away from the Heavy, not enough to break the beam of mist flowing into the giant, but enough so that when one of the other recruits ran past, it would briefly attach to them, healing the worst of their wounds as they made their way up the stairs. Once out of range, the mist would reattach itself to the Heavy once more. When there were no more to protect, the Medic made his way up the stairs, shouting "Schnell, schnell!!"

	Once inside, the Medic immediately set about healing his fellow defectors, stopping only long enough to High-Five the strange little engineer that welcomed them on board. There seemed to be some discussion of what to do with them, but it was brushed away as the apparent pilot of the mechanical beast introduced herself. "So. Who are you all anyway? I’m Midna, the Princess of the realm of Twilight by the way." The creature was about the size of a very short woman, with proportions that suggested as much, though despite apparently being nude, the Medic could see no sign of any orifices aside from her mouth. Even the mammalian lumps on her chest were smooth and bare. To make things stranger, she floated a few feet off the ground as she spoke, one golden eye peering out from behind what the Medic thought was a very nice hat. She introduced herself rather casually for royalty, but the Medic didn't mind. Bowing in half once again, one arm in front, the other behind, the Medic answered her question. "Eet iz an honor to meet you, your highness. I am ze Medic, zo my team mates also refer to me as "Doctor." Und zees ees mein gud friend, ze Heavy Veapons Guy. Ve appreciate ze assistance in finding our missing comrades, and are villing to do vatever it takes to assist you in your own endeavors." When asked what they wanted out of this, the Medic replied honestly, bluntly, and without the tact required when speaking to royalty. "Oh, let'z zee... Aside from finding our team mates? Mahney, veapons, hats... also, und zese eez just mein personal preference, a chance to study new and unique life forms. Und zen experiment on zem! Incidently, vat vould you say your species is?" He asked, taking a pencil and notepad from the breast pocket of his lab coat.

Name: Ludwig (unknown if first name or last name)
Game Origin: Team Fortress 2
Appearance:

Personality: The Medic is a crazed medical professional. Obsessed with biology, this former doctor lost his medical license when he (somehow) managed to steal a patient's entire skeleton without killing them. "Dr." Ludwig has a habit of spending vast quantities of money on questionable medical supplies, often times experimenting on his team mates with or without consent.
Background: Raised in Stuttgart, Germany during an era when the Hippocratic oath had been downgraded to an optional Hippocratic suggestion, the Medic considers healing a generally unintended side effect of satisfying his own morbid curiosity. Ludwig, at some point, signed up with the mercenary group, Reliable Excavation Demolition (RED), in service of Redmond Mann. The mercs had been hired to deal with the Builders League United (BLU), that had been hired by his brother, Blutarch Mann. However, after years of fighting each other and achieving nothing, a third, unknown brother, Gray Mann emerged. Gray Mann killed both of his brothers and attempted to crush both mercenary teams using an army of robotic replicas. It was during this time that the mercs went their separate ways, with the Medic finding and joining the original mercenary group that had later been hired to finish the job the robots couldn't, Team Fortress.

	The original Team Fortress had managed to track down the idiot mercs of RED and BLU, and their sniper shot RED's sniper dead on the spot. Or at least, that's what the Medic had told them. In truth, he had dragged the Sniper's body into his lab and immediately set to work on reviving him. It was not done out of regret or friendship, simply because the Medic had a new method of revival he wished to test involving a blue whale's penial gland. This obviously created tensions between the Medic and his new team, and after being thoroughly disrespected by Team Fortress's Heavy, the Medic decided to leave Team Fortress and join back up with RED. As he was repairing his medi-gun, however, there was a reaction from the chemicals that produce the healing mist, creating a blinding flash of light. When the Medic came to, he was in an unfamiliar location, and both the RED Sniper and Team Fortress's Heavy were gone. The Medic was alone to puzzle out what exactly had happened.

Specialty: Healer
Level: 1
Experience: 0/10 
Powers:
Uber-Charge: After using the medi-gun for an extended period, the Medic can overcharge it, causing both the Medic and his patient to become Uber-Charged. When Uber, the Medic and his patient are temporarily invincible to all damage, can not be set on fire (or given any other status effect), and are resistant to knock-back abilities. On top of this, being Uber-Charged transforms every hit dealt into a mini-crit, and all mini-crits become Critcical Hits. This only lasts a few seconds, though, so it has to be used sparingly and strategically.

Strengths: 
Over-Heal: By using his medi-gun on a target that's already fully healed, the Medic can temporarily boost their health to 150% of it's normal limit. (If Link has a total of three hearts, Over-Heal will allow him to temporarily have four and a half.) Without constant use of the medi-gun, however, the targets health will slowly decrease until it reaches it's default limit.
Medi-Gun Chain: The Medic is very physically fit, being able to keep up with any of his patients, even the speedy Scout. (must be "chained" to patient with medi-gun) 
Auto-Heal: The Medic's understanding of the human body also allows him to heal himself, with or without medical aid. (The Medic's health bar slowly refills on it's own.)

Weaknesses:
Solemn Vow: The Medic is not designed for combat, no matter what he says. The Medic has very low health compared to other mercenaries, can't deal very much damage on his own, and can survive even less without finding cover and patching himself up.
Smug und Evil: The Medic is somewhat scatter brained and rarely picks up on social cues. As a result, he can often come across as much more malicious than was intended. He'll even, when caught up in a recent success of his, fail to recognize an increase in aggression and hostility until a shot has already been taken. The word that best describes his mental state is "kooky". Even his smile is described by him to be "smug and evil".
Spirits: Null

Kindred Spirits:
Doctor Gordon Freeman: While Gordon Freeman had not yet been born by the time that Team Fortress had been hired to eradicate RED, the Medic would certainly have been impressed by his work, even if his degree was theoretical. Being trusted with unstable materials by the U.S. government, discovering a new world with unique life forms, experimenting with biological weapons, and being praised for it all? Oh, yes, "Dr." Ludwig would be quite jealous if he knew what lie in store for the Free Man. So what if he was a wanted war criminal, who wasn't? ... right?
Mercy: As far as personality goes, these two couldn't be more opposite. If Mercy is a guardian angel come to revive and protect her team mates, then the Medic is Victor Frankenstein, refusing to let his creations rest until the experiment is over. However, they serve very similar functions on the battle field, even having visually similar equipment.
G.L.a.D.O.S: Though they've never met, and though she's an AI built into a science facility, Ludwig would almost certainly find a sort of one-way kinship with the homicidal robot. Of course, what the Medic would really be interested would be her test subjects and technologies, though he himself wouldn't take too kindly to being a test subject, like the rest of the scientists she locked in the facility. The ones who survived the deadly neurotoxin she had flooded said facility with, of course.

Inventory: 
Syringe Gun: The Medic's primary weapon. Uses blasts of air to launch syringes from a custom barrel loaded into the gun. It fires ten syringes a second at 990 Hammer units. The syringes follow an arced trajectory. Despite being projectiles, syringes cannot be reflected, though they do very little damage individually.
Medi-Gun: The Medic's standard healing apparatus. The default Medi-Gun has only the basic healing and Uber-Charge abilities.
Bone-Saw: The Medic's default melee weapon. A large, metal saw designed to cut through a femur in twenty-eight seconds, though the Medic boasts he can cut that time in half. (He can't)

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