AN: Behehe...Hi all. c: I love reading Call of Duty fanfics, so I'm going to add my own to it.
Yes, this is going to be another famous Girl in the 141 and a Ghost/OC pairing. I don't care, I regret nothing. This idea was originally a roleplay, so if it becomes odd, I'm sorry.
My army knowledge is pretty low, so I apologize if I get anything wrong. If you correct me in reviews, that would be cool.
The winds were whipping around the helicopter, but barely blowing inside. The female stared out of the doors at the clouds, and watched a bird pass them by. It was almost high speed, and it was actually pretty cool. She leaned back against the padded seats and rested her head on the wall. The helicopter didn't shake that much, which was actually a surprise. The female had been used to the rough ridings of the american army planes.
She pulled her earpuds and iPod out of her pocket and nestled them in her ears. The slow piano refranes from the Homestuck volumes soothed her. Her eyelids started to droop as she relaxed completely. She closed her eyes and breathed softly. She remembered the pilot telling her it would be a couple of hours before she got to her new base. She lost track of time, but all she knew was that she was still a little ways off.
"Lizabeth Warford?" Her eyes snapped open at her name, and she sat up. "Huh?" she blinked, disorentated. She rubbed her eyes and looked up. A young looking man stood there. His hair was a dirty blonde, and his eyes were a forest-y green. His skin was lightly tanned, and she thought he looked a little big-brotherly.
"Oh hey." he blinked. "You're an american?" he asked, seeming to be surprised. She looked at him for a moment. "Yes...sir?" her eyebrows furrowed. A goofy smile broke out on his face. "So I'm not alone!" Liz looked at him for another moment before standing. "Okay, sir, kindly tell me who you are?" she asked.
"Oh, sorry, forgot. My first time greeting someone. Roach, Sergeant." Roach said, holding his hand out for her to shake. "Warford, Private. Although I suppose you already know that, so I guess you can just call me Liz." she said, taking his hand. She shook it once.
His hand was a bit large compared to her, and she had a feeling every man's hand would be like that here. She could feel the callouses through his gloves, and there seemed to be at least four. That must've meant that he held guns, a lot. More than the average soldier, which made her wonder if it was from the training. She assumed if there were four on this hand, there would be less on the other. He probably used his right hand a whole lot.
She figured that out in roughly two minutes. "Uh, Private are you okay?" she looked up at him. He was looking at her confusedly, and she blushed, realizing she was still holding his hand. She dropped it and smiled nervously. "I'm sorry. Are you right handed?" she asked, looking up at him.
He must've been from somewhere in the west, where it was hotter and a lot more sunny. She guessed about Texas or California, due to the slight drawl in his voice. "Right...handed?" he answered, making it sound like a question. "I'm sorry," she laughed nervously again, "are you from California or Texas?" she asked, putting her hands in her pocket. She figured her iPod must've died, it wasn't playing anymore music.
"Now that's just getting weird. Texas." Roach grinned at her, and she smiled back. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm doing all that..." she looked away. "This the base?" she asked, changing the subject. "Ah, yes it is." Liz could hear the smile in his voice.
"Mind showing me to my barrack at least before I go say hi to everyone else?" she asked, looking up at him. "Yeah!" she took it as an agreement, and she followed him to a rather motel-looking building. All one floor. It had a bit of a shack-y look to it, and she meant that affectionatly. A metal shack. The doors looked wooden though.
She followed the sergeant to what seemed to be the fifteenth room. "I believe your roommate is Scarecrow." he said, and knocked on the door. She heard shuffling on the other side, and then the door opened, revealing a male. (no shit.) He had short dusty blonde hair with bangs that flopped over his forehead. His eyes were a warm brown, kind of like Liz's. He looked like he just woke up from a nap, in which she assumed he had.
"What do you want, Roach?" he asked in a tired voice. She could detect an irish accent, and she smiled. Before Roach could answer, she peeked around him. "Hi!" she said, and Scarecrow looked surprised before settling into a confused look. "Are...you the FNG?' he asked, and she nodded. "Sorry for not being a big, tough man." she said, stepping out from behind Roach.
"I'll leave you two alone, okay? Scarecrow, can you show her around while I go warn MacTavish and Ghost about her?" Roach asked with a smile, and Scarecrow nodded. "Bye! See you at dinner!" he waved and darted off. Liz couldn't help but chuckle before turning back to Scarecrow. "I'm Warford, Private." she said, and he looked a bit amused. "Did Roach do that to you?" he asked, opening the door wider for her to walk in.
She did with a nod, and looked around. It looked pretty cozy, actually. There were two beds, the right bare and the left with an assortment of boyish things. For example, she saw a few Doctor Who posters, and a small picture of an Irish band. There was a picture of two adults with a way younger looking Scarecrow. She smiled at it. "You and your parents?" she guessed, setting her stuff on her bed.
"Wha-Oh, that? Yeah." Scarecrow sunk into his bed. "For future reference, just introduce yourself as Private whatever your first name is." he said, smiling at her. She flushed. "Oops, ehe...my actual name is Lizabeth but I want to be called Liz." she said, unzipping her bag. She shuffled around before setting two pictures on the nightstand.
One was of her when she was younger, snuggled into a male version of her. It was her and her big brother, both of them asleep. The other was of her and her old unit, before they all died. She wasn't remembering that at the moment though, she didn't want to dampen her good mood. "Ah, cute." she jumped, hearing Scarecrow's voice so close. "Aha, thank you." she smiled, kicking the bag under her bed. She would unpack later.
"Do you mind showing me around now?" Liz asked, looking at the man. He shrugged. "Alright. Come on." he said, shoving his feet into what looked to be slipper shoes. She followed him out into the hall. "Okay, this is obviously the barracks. A lot of us like to sit out here and smoke or talk." he said, and she smiled. "That sounds like fun." she commented.
He took her to the rec room, which connected to the kitchen, which connected to the mess hall, as it was affectionatly called. It looked about the same as her old base, although it seemed a lot more...homely. She didn't know how to describe it. All she knew was that she felt pretty much at home at the base, which was a new feeling for her.
"The Captain's office is over there, along with the debriefing room. The training area is behind the medical area, which is on the other side of the Captain's office. And speaking of the Captain..." Scarecrow trailed off as they both watched a man appear out of the office. He looked very fatherly to her.
"Go say hi!" Scarecrow pushed her gently. "Uh!" she looked back at him with an "are you serious!?" expression. "Go!" he grinned. She sighed lightly and looked over at the guy. He looked like he was walking to the rec room. She trotted over and walked next to him, suddenly a bit shy...and uncomfortable. Up close, this man looked like a bear.
"I take it you're the FNG?" the Captain asked, his voice pretty loud, gravelly, and...scottish. He didn't look at her though. "Ah...yes, sir." she said, looking up at him for a moment. His eyes were a peircing electric blue, and he had a honest to god mohawk. He had a scar though, right over his left eye. It looked like someone had gotten him with a RPG. That must've hurt.
"What must've hurt?" He asked, looking down at him. She flushed, realizing she had said that part out loud. "RPG?" she countered as they stopped in front of the door. He turned to face her and he folded his arms. He stepped forwards and leaned his shoulder on the wall. She took a step back, modesty's sake, and she folded her arms as well, pure habit. "What?" he asked.
"Um...your eye. RPG?" she asked, raising one finger to look slightly at his eye. He seemed to freeze for a moment. "Oh, you're THAT FNG." he said, and closed his eyes. "Uh...what?" she furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head. He shook his head. "Jesus, I didn't think you would be back here so quickly after that. You've got gall, I can say that." he said, looking at her again.
Oh shit.
That was what he meant.
She must've made a pained expression because he softened a little. "Hey. You don't have to share until you're ready, alright?" he said, and stood straight. "Look, you're welcome to at least talk to me. However, don't expect special treatment, at all." he said, suddenly all business. She smiled. "Of course not." she answered.
Yeah, the 141 would be alright for her.
Yes I know it seemed pretty awkward at first, especially with introducing themselves. Yes, you only know her eye colour, and it's on purpose.
Hope you enjoyed. I listened to a bit of Coldplay and the Homestuck albums making this, so it might've influenced this weirdly.
-Betsii