'N/A'
Day ? - ??: ??: ??
N/A, N/A
N/A
Unaffiliated
He was lying on something soft.
That was the first thing he felt. Something soft below his entire body, it was soft firm, yet not too firm to the point it was stiff and contradicting of being soft, he must be on a mattress.
Following this was the opening his eyes he saw light stabbing through the blinds of a room. It was morning and the sun was irritating his eyes, he creased his eyes, before it occurred.
A nauseous feeling succumbed to him, it was the second thing he felt, so severe was the feeling it was if someone had used a bat and thwacked him in the skull repeatedly, and lastly, he felt tired, so so tired, as if he had pulled an op that he had no choice but to stay awake for, bleeding, injured, and being hunted all at once.
A noiseless groan escaped him. The migraine intensified.
In an attempt to mitigate the headache in any way he raised an arm to massage his forehead. A sharp prickly sensation was rewarded once the hand connected, a surge of alarm crossed him, that definitely wasn't right, quickly moving his hand downwards into view, he panicked.
It wasn't human.
Vaguely humanoid in it's appearance contrasted by an appearance of platy, scale like coverings all over his dark brown transparent- no, reflective hand, gone was the Caucasian calloused limb, gone was the M-line that cut through the palm, gone were the knuckles, what vague remnants that were are the fingers and thumb, but even it too was malformed and twisted just like his skin.
The fingers could bend, the fingers could straighten, the fingers could curve, the fingers could be placed on top one another awkwardly, yet the fingers were wrong. Spike like protrusions pierced out all over his fingers, they were inwards, all spikes were angled roughly at a 35-
The air was shifting, the air was shifting, he could feel the air moving, he could feel something was pushing the air apart, and it wasn't a strong gust of wind, no, he could feel it far away, outside, outside this room, but so close.
And then he heard footsteps, someone was coming. He didn't know those footsteps or maybe the migraine prevented from recognizing it or he just forgot, he wasn't sure, all that mattered was that someone unknown was getting closer to him with each step.
He needed to hide.
With the same noiseless groan, he acted, rolling off the mattress he fell of it front firstA hard smack stopped him.
A soundless, drawn-out groan would be released had he a voice, but alas he lost it, instead all he could do was lie there painfully, for he had fallen off a bed, too disoriented with both the migraine and fall preventing from doing any action.
Some 141 member he was.
Then, despite his migraine and pain, he heard a voice, an accented voice, a voice he recognized.
"Roach?! ROACH!?"
A loud sound entered from the side of his right ear. A final shout of "Roach!?" preceded a sound of bafflement from the accented voice.
"Bloody hell mate, what are you doing down there?"
Firm hands turned him around, face no longer facing ground, a skull balaclava, orange glasses, and a headset greeted him.
"Mate what the bloody hell are you doing on the floor? You trying to actually be a Roach?"
Roach didn't know what to say to that, not that he could anyways.
Gary "Roach" Sanderson
[Voiced by: Dennis Allcock]
With a huff of exertion Ghost placed the mute operator onto his shoulder, before gently placing him back onto the bed. He then bent down, retrieving a fallen pillow that Roach had just noticed, he then picked it up, dusting it off with his black grey gloves, he faced Roach and spoke.
"Try not to fall off again mate."
Ghost then proceeded to gently pick up Roach's head, before inserting the pillow under him, laying Roach's head down, a soft squishy feeling suffocated his head, a nice feeling in contrast to his softening migraine.
Then he felt it, a gloved hand on his head.
"Keep resting son, nothing to worry about, we can
talk later."
The sunlight disappeared, a mechanical noise occured before it. Roach closed his eyes once more, following the lieutenant's words. Roach fell victim to slumber once again, the last words his conscious mind grasped were.
"Bloody hell, one way to start a day…"