occasionally subtle
untitled
Three Goblin Art
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Keni
todays bird
PR's Tumblrdome
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Jules of Nature
$LAYYYTER
Mike Driver
NASA
noise dept.
hello vonnie
@theartofmadeline
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Kaledo Art
Sade Olutola
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
YOU ARE THE REASON
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@gunsh7ts
》 now playing - the bird song.
＠GUNSH7TS.
a moderate activity & semi-selective independent cod au roleplay blog. penned by sugar (she/him, 17, est). currently seeking new writing partners.
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Currently can barely think and or move my arm without sharp pain, will answer shit tommmmooorrroow if I don't pass out
open starter :) ghost vers
Breathing heavy - the air seemed tight with tension, the only sound in the gym was the occasional squeak of his shoes when he backed away to get a drink of water. Ghost's knuckles were bleeding, stinging with the recognizable pain of pushing his anger, his loss, his emotions into a bottle, shaking that bottle up and releasing the cork onto the punching bag. His mind was all over the place apart from him abusing his knuckles.
❝ Tha' fuckin scotsman. ❞
A mumble left him, his breathing ragged as he drew up a breath, releasing it into the air. Sweat damped his mask, but he didn't care, didn't THINK. His vest and everything that he would need for an op was tossed randomly into his room—though, he made sure that none of it was broken—before he had made his way to the gym to punch the bag. It was already pretty late at night, but it was another one of those nights - sleepless even if Ghost was exhausted.
He couldn't sleep. Nor would he try.
Ghost knew how these nights went. Wake up from a nightmare of his comrade- the only one he considered close-Johnny, dying again and again. Just shy of them getting revenge on Makarov.
Owl was out roaming the base at night as always, keeping watch of everything while others were supposed to be asleep. Since no one was roaming the halls, he’d enter the training room just to tire himself out before going to bed— freezing up when he spots Ghost already inside
Ghost had his punches linked up accordingly to the bag in front of him, swinging side by each punch he landed - the abuse landing harshly on the red sack. A groan ripped from the lieutenants throat, one mostly of undisputed anger. He was already too in his head, either not caring or not seeing the red drip from his knuckles. Small cuts had appeared from his fingers digging into the skin, leaving half-moons and puncture wounds. The adrenaline buzzed high in his body.
❝ Soap.. you shite. Leavin' us 'ere, ye eejit. ❞
The word rumbled from him, boots finally squeaking underneath him when he moved away from the punching bag - hadn't realized Owl was there in the doorway -, going to go collect his water bottle.
goodnight people i amsnsnooo
Angst open rp
My man is sad, give him some love (maybe reflected off mod who's maybe crying and maybe doing this to themself)
Albie was really off recently, kind of sulking and rarely eating his meals. He's in his barracks at the moment, small room empty as he lies under the covers, making small whimpers and whines of agony. He'd been seen rarely outside of his barracks, then he disappeared into his room. From outside, Albie's whines are softly audible and weak, the man shuffling slowly as he lays on his bed. Inside, the man is curled with his back to the door, shaking and crying with his head shoved into a pillow. He goes silent every few half hours, falling asleep from the exhaustion of crying all the time. So now, a soldier stands at his door, listening inside and trying to talk to the whimpering man.
The steps to the lieutenant's barracks was quick, easily calculated into his plan of the day. His boots barely made any sound against the hard linoleum flooring of the base. His hand reached up, knuckles pressing against the closed door in front of Ghost. Easy there, Soldier. Remember your training. Be nice to others, not too nice - just let them know, subtly, that your looking out for them.
The ice cold water bottle was held in his other hand, a snack - a brand of chips he already forgot the name of - was in his pocket, just waiting to be chewed up. Finally, the knuckle of his pointer finger met the wood. His jaw worked underneath the balaclava, the 'comforting' words dying on the tip of his tongue. He hesitated, before speaking.
❝ Lieutenant. Le' me in. Got somethin' for 'ya. ❞
Ghost immediately winced at how.. cold and distant he sounded. He wasn't good at comforting, but something inside him -even if it was small- was there a little bit of the simon he himself knew a long time ago. thought it had died out, snuffed like an open flame against rain. That piece of him breathed with the body, wishing to comfort others like he wished to be comforted. But no matter, he should just shake it off and not.. get too close. Not too close enough where they can get burned, afterall.
Albie grumbles from inside and shuffles, before a thunk is heard from the door, then a loud and pained groan. "Hrrr... Test the door.." He croaks out, laying on the floor where he had fallen, his legs too weak to hold him up. "Mmm, don't hit me.."
Ghost paused as he heard the audible thunk, before not waiting another minute. The door opened quickly, the hallway's light illuminating on his back, a shadow spreading into the room. Though, he didn't melt into it like he always did. With calculated steps, he made his way to Albie who was on the floor, door closing behind him.
He squatted down to level himself with Albie, staying silent for a moment.
❝ ..You sleepin' on th' floor? ❞
"I fell.." He mumbles with closed eyes, slowly sitting up against the bedside table. "I'm just... Tired. That's all, sir." He tries to wave it off, calling Ghost 'sir' even though their the same rank. "And sick..." He quietly mumbles into his hands while he rubs his nose.
Ghost had to hold himself back from letting an irritated sigh out, placing the water bottle on the nightstand when he stood back up - yet, he crouched once more, hooking his arms underneath Albie to pick him up, just for a moment, placing him back into bed.
❝ Don' call m' sir, Albie. I'll be bringin' ye some food, healthier than these crisps in me pocket. ❞
Hesitation lingered in his bones as he stood there, staring at Albie for a second.
❝ An' drink th' damn water or else I'll make sure 'ya drink it by forcin' 'ye too. ❞
With that, a turn, quick tilt of the door's handle to open, then it closed behind him - his plan set in motion as he walked to the mess hall.
Albie looks horrible, and utterly drained out of his soul. His skin was pale, head burning, and eyes watering from nothing. He wriggles under Ghost's grip, but doesn't protest, just letting it happen. "Mm.." He nods slowly and takes the bottle, sipping from it with a few drops spilling onto his jumper and chin when Ghost is gone. "Mmmfh.." The man groans and puts it down, staring off into the void with a heavy sigh. "I'm so-" He grumbles and lays down, curling under the blankets and doubting his entire life choices that lead to this moment. He should be at home, with his wife and daughter, being tended to by them, and not the ragged soldiers on base because he was too weak to walk to the infirmary.
When Ghost comes back, Albie is curled in a ball under the thin blanket, asleep with about a quarter left of the water in the bottle he was given. The man had fallen asleep, and crying from the looks of it, as Albie's hands were over his face and cheeks stained with red streaks.
Ghost had brought another water bottle, and of course some soup. Not really home-made, but it was a soup, nonetheless. He placed the steaming bowl down on his nightstand, spoon dipped into the liquid food. He stared for a moment, placing down the bottle next to the half drunken one. Hmmn.
He tilted his head, observing. He hesitated for a moment, exhaling a quiet sigh. Pulling off his glove, he placed the backside of his hand on Albie's forehead - best he could do, just to get a feel of his temperature. Grimacing underneath his balaclava when he felt the fever. Definitely a fever, felt like molten rock compared to his own temperature.
❝ Christ. ❞
— is all he said before he removed his hand, putting his glove back on. A grumble escaped him, turning as he left the room to go get a medic, leading them back to the room so they could take care of the clearly sick Lieutenant.
Albie wakes as they come back, slowly sitting up with a croak, turning to face the two and sit on the edge of the bed. The man tries to protest a little, but is too weak and tired to do that, so all that comes out is a grumble and shy hands pushing away. "Nn..No-" He shakes his head and looks to Ghost, pointing to the soup bowl. "Hon.. Honey?"
Everything seemed to freeze for Ghost, hands stilling, before he stared off at Albie, a brow raised underneath his balaclava. Before he decided to break the awkward silence with words, laced with confusion.
❝ What. Say tha' 'gain? ❞
He glanced over at the soup bowl that he had placed down a little bit less than ten minutes ago.
❝ Tha' soup. 'ts chicken somethin'. ❞
Ghost grumbled, shifting slightly so he could help the medic take his vitals. He didn't know why they had to do it in Albie's room and not the infirmary, probably more comforting for the sick man to be in a familiar place other than a stuffy, white and barren area with just enough cots to handle the soldiers.
"Mm.." Albie nods slowly and droops down again, eyes closing with exhaustion. He looked horrible, in all honesty. As said before, he wanted to go home and rest the days away with his family, not on the shitty base where he shivered every night because of his temperature flushes. The medic shines a light in his eyes, making Albie duck away and rub his sensitive eyes, groaning weakly and curling in on himself. "Noo..." He shakes his head, vision all blurry, ears ringing loudly, and his vision cutting off when he faints against the medic.
❝ Albie— ❞
Ghost's eyes widened just slightly, easily catching Albie; moving with his agility to keep him from knocking into the floor or anything, the medic clearly was panicking. Rookie Medic, eh? And noone dared to tell him?? That irked him, but he couldn't take his anger out on the kid.
❝ Oi, go find yer senior. Now, kid. ❞
That's all he had to say to send the inexperienced medic into a flurry, feet pounding against the floor to go find another medic, a more experienced one.
Ghost shifted with Albie in his arms, one arm tucked under his legs, and the other supporting his head and neck. He began to walk to the infirmary, following the medic's steps. His mind was killing him for speaking so much, he usually let his hands do the talking for him - whether thats fighting or using sign language.
Albie is practically dead weight in the man's grasp, head lolled back alongside his eyes, legs dangling down and shaking with every step. When he comes to consciousness again, Albie tries lifting his arm to block the lights, but grunts at the pain of his IV poking him. "Mm, no.." He shakes his head and tries to take it out, frowning at the uncomfortable feeling. "Get.. out-" He grumbles again, hooded eyes blocking the light and some of his vision, hence the blindness to all the blood now dripping down his arm, but at least the IV is out.
Ghost stood up when he heard noises coming from Albie. A roll of his eyes caused the man to take off his balaclava, hesitating for a moment. There wouldn't be anyone coming in anytime soon, but that doesn't mean he's uncomfortable with it. He took it off after a few seconds, covering Albie's eyes with the folded balaclava. He just washed it earlier this morning, so it shouldn't stink of blood, gunpowder or anything that came with the job. . Might smell like lavender or flowers, but - that's because that's the only laundry soap there was. totally.
HOWEVER, the next part, he struggled with. Not being a medical nurse meant he couldn't put in the IV back into Albie's arm. He turned away from the curtain, finally calling out to the medics at their desks.
❝ Oi, medics. Be quiet, an' come in here to put the IV back in on Albie. ❞
Albie grumbles and presses Ghost's balaclava to his eyes with his own arm, whining at the sudden pain, his legs kicking out as his back arches. "No- Mmm-" He shakes his head, sitting up and trying to leave with his heart rate through the roof, probably panicked and scared from fainting. "No! Ghost, get- Get me out of here!" He yells and stands weakly, balaclava dropped on the bed as he stumbles to get out, protesting against both Ghost's and the medics grip to get him back into bed. "Mmmmfh!"
❝ Albie — Al- Albie. Listen to me. ❞
His voice was gentler at first, before suddenly twisting back into his usual commanding tone, eyes narrowing. He glared at the medics who seemed to just stare, shoving them away for a moment. His hand, while gloved, found Albie's shoulder, squeezing it gently .. as gently as he can.
❝ Yer sick. Ye need th' fluids in ye, ta flush th' sickness out. ❞
Ghost spoke lowly, leaning towards Albie so he could only hear him, not caring about the missing balaclava that was now abandoned on the floors of the infirmary, nor the stares of the medics and soldiers who dared walk past when the curtain was open.
❝ An' between me an' ye, the medics get ye better food when yer in here. An' I'll stay here, personally, ta make sure 'ye don't get poisoned or injured more. ❞
Albie's breathing slows as he stares into Ghost's eyes, legs buckling under him as he weakly nods. "I- Okay.." He sits on the edge of the bed, spotting his blood-leaking arm and gagging. "I did that?" He looks in the direction of Ghost, eyes squeezed shut from more pain hitting him, hand in hand with his throbbing headache and burning chest. "My- My whole body hurts..." Albie whines out as he gets laid back down, one hand holding the bleeding area.
The other LT relaxed visibly, shoulders no longer tense, when Albie listened to him, finally sitting back down on the bed. Phew. Thought he wouldve had to hold jim down while the medics put the new IV in.
❝ Ye tore it outta yer arm when ye woke up. ❞
Ghost nodded his head, finally picking his balaclava up and putting it in his pocket. He walked over to the side of the bed, out of the way of the medics so they can bandage the bleeding and put another IV into Albie's arm.
❝ Expected, yer sick. Dunno how long ye were sick before I came ta check up on ya, Lieutenant. ❞
"Just.. A couple days.." He mumbles and leans his head back, sniffling while wiping his nose. "Feels like my chest is.. On fire." He pauses and opens his eyes, but closes them at the bright lights. "Ghost..?" He weakly speaks up and opens his eyes a smidge, just so he can see the Luitenant.
Ghost mumbled something along the lines of ❝ Idiots, not checkin' up on their lieutenant sooner. ❞ when he heard the 'couple days' response — his teeth gritting when he finished the mumble, but he paused when he heard his name.
❝ ...Yeah, Albie? ❞
He questioned, tilting his head just a bit, one brow raised in questioning as Ghost huffed, arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing a black hoodie instead of the vest he wore earlier, preferring comfort over tactically as of the moment.
Albie sits in silence for a moment, then lets out a heavy sigh. "My.. My room-" He mutters, eyes fluttering from the lights above them. "Black hoodie, smells... Like perfume.." He makes a little hand gesture, trying to distract himself from the upcoming IV. "Could you grab it...? Should be-" He pauses to take a deep breath, eyes now closed as he tries to console himself. "Should be on my floor, maybe near... The bathroom."
Ghost nodded, slipping the balaclava back on his face. His eyes stone cold, set in a glare as he slipped into the shadows -not really, i mean, he just stepped out as quiet as a mouse- before approaching Albie's room, opening the door to look for the hoodie he asked him to bring. After a good five minutes of searching -it was helpful that the rooms given are usually small and clearing out rooms quickly is a given in the field-, he brought the hoodie back to the infirmary. Longer than he wished to take, but he got it nonetheless.
❝ Here 'ye go, Albie. ❞
Ghost said, taking the time to place it delicately on Albie's lap in the cot.
He nods weakly and picks it up, covering his face with the fabric while a medic walks inside with an IV kit. "Are they here yet..." Albie just grumbles to Ghost, seeming a little tense.
❝ They are, lad. ❞
The word rolled off his tongue — lad — gods. hes so going to blame that scottish soldier for bringing the slang from his home to theirs, rubbing it off on Ghost due to him being 'round him the most.
❝ Jus' a pinch an' a poke, they say. ❞
Angst open rp
My man is sad, give him some love (maybe reflected off mod who's maybe crying and maybe doing this to themself)
Albie was really off recently, kind of sulking and rarely eating his meals. He's in his barracks at the moment, small room empty as he lies under the covers, making small whimpers and whines of agony. He'd been seen rarely outside of his barracks, then he disappeared into his room. From outside, Albie's whines are softly audible and weak, the man shuffling slowly as he lays on his bed. Inside, the man is curled with his back to the door, shaking and crying with his head shoved into a pillow. He goes silent every few half hours, falling asleep from the exhaustion of crying all the time. So now, a soldier stands at his door, listening inside and trying to talk to the whimpering man.
The steps to the lieutenant's barracks was quick, easily calculated into his plan of the day. His boots barely made any sound against the hard linoleum flooring of the base. His hand reached up, knuckles pressing against the closed door in front of Ghost. Easy there, Soldier. Remember your training. Be nice to others, not too nice - just let them know, subtly, that your looking out for them.
The ice cold water bottle was held in his other hand, a snack - a brand of chips he already forgot the name of - was in his pocket, just waiting to be chewed up. Finally, the knuckle of his pointer finger met the wood. His jaw worked underneath the balaclava, the 'comforting' words dying on the tip of his tongue. He hesitated, before speaking.
❝ Lieutenant. Le' me in. Got somethin' for 'ya. ❞
Ghost immediately winced at how.. cold and distant he sounded. He wasn't good at comforting, but something inside him -even if it was small- was there a little bit of the simon he himself knew a long time ago. thought it had died out, snuffed like an open flame against rain. That piece of him breathed with the body, wishing to comfort others like he wished to be comforted. But no matter, he should just shake it off and not.. get too close. Not too close enough where they can get burned, afterall.
Albie grumbles from inside and shuffles, before a thunk is heard from the door, then a loud and pained groan. "Hrrr... Test the door.." He croaks out, laying on the floor where he had fallen, his legs too weak to hold him up. "Mmm, don't hit me.."
Ghost paused as he heard the audible thunk, before not waiting another minute. The door opened quickly, the hallway's light illuminating on his back, a shadow spreading into the room. Though, he didn't melt into it like he always did. With calculated steps, he made his way to Albie who was on the floor, door closing behind him.
He squatted down to level himself with Albie, staying silent for a moment.
❝ ..You sleepin' on th' floor? ❞
"I fell.." He mumbles with closed eyes, slowly sitting up against the bedside table. "I'm just... Tired. That's all, sir." He tries to wave it off, calling Ghost 'sir' even though their the same rank. "And sick..." He quietly mumbles into his hands while he rubs his nose.
Ghost had to hold himself back from letting an irritated sigh out, placing the water bottle on the nightstand when he stood back up - yet, he crouched once more, hooking his arms underneath Albie to pick him up, just for a moment, placing him back into bed.
❝ Don' call m' sir, Albie. I'll be bringin' ye some food, healthier than these crisps in me pocket. ❞
Hesitation lingered in his bones as he stood there, staring at Albie for a second.
❝ An' drink th' damn water or else I'll make sure 'ya drink it by forcin' 'ye too. ❞
With that, a turn, quick tilt of the door's handle to open, then it closed behind him - his plan set in motion as he walked to the mess hall.
Albie looks horrible, and utterly drained out of his soul. His skin was pale, head burning, and eyes watering from nothing. He wriggles under Ghost's grip, but doesn't protest, just letting it happen. "Mm.." He nods slowly and takes the bottle, sipping from it with a few drops spilling onto his jumper and chin when Ghost is gone. "Mmmfh.." The man groans and puts it down, staring off into the void with a heavy sigh. "I'm so-" He grumbles and lays down, curling under the blankets and doubting his entire life choices that lead to this moment. He should be at home, with his wife and daughter, being tended to by them, and not the ragged soldiers on base because he was too weak to walk to the infirmary.
When Ghost comes back, Albie is curled in a ball under the thin blanket, asleep with about a quarter left of the water in the bottle he was given. The man had fallen asleep, and crying from the looks of it, as Albie's hands were over his face and cheeks stained with red streaks.
Ghost had brought another water bottle, and of course some soup. Not really home-made, but it was a soup, nonetheless. He placed the steaming bowl down on his nightstand, spoon dipped into the liquid food. He stared for a moment, placing down the bottle next to the half drunken one. Hmmn.
He tilted his head, observing. He hesitated for a moment, exhaling a quiet sigh. Pulling off his glove, he placed the backside of his hand on Albie's forehead - best he could do, just to get a feel of his temperature. Grimacing underneath his balaclava when he felt the fever. Definitely a fever, felt like molten rock compared to his own temperature.
❝ Christ. ❞
— is all he said before he removed his hand, putting his glove back on. A grumble escaped him, turning as he left the room to go get a medic, leading them back to the room so they could take care of the clearly sick Lieutenant.
Albie wakes as they come back, slowly sitting up with a croak, turning to face the two and sit on the edge of the bed. The man tries to protest a little, but is too weak and tired to do that, so all that comes out is a grumble and shy hands pushing away. "Nn..No-" He shakes his head and looks to Ghost, pointing to the soup bowl. "Hon.. Honey?"
Everything seemed to freeze for Ghost, hands stilling, before he stared off at Albie, a brow raised underneath his balaclava. Before he decided to break the awkward silence with words, laced with confusion.
❝ What. Say tha' 'gain? ❞
He glanced over at the soup bowl that he had placed down a little bit less than ten minutes ago.
❝ Tha' soup. 'ts chicken somethin'. ❞
Ghost grumbled, shifting slightly so he could help the medic take his vitals. He didn't know why they had to do it in Albie's room and not the infirmary, probably more comforting for the sick man to be in a familiar place other than a stuffy, white and barren area with just enough cots to handle the soldiers.
"Mm.." Albie nods slowly and droops down again, eyes closing with exhaustion. He looked horrible, in all honesty. As said before, he wanted to go home and rest the days away with his family, not on the shitty base where he shivered every night because of his temperature flushes. The medic shines a light in his eyes, making Albie duck away and rub his sensitive eyes, groaning weakly and curling in on himself. "Noo..." He shakes his head, vision all blurry, ears ringing loudly, and his vision cutting off when he faints against the medic.
❝ Albie— ❞
Ghost's eyes widened just slightly, easily catching Albie; moving with his agility to keep him from knocking into the floor or anything, the medic clearly was panicking. Rookie Medic, eh? And noone dared to tell him?? That irked him, but he couldn't take his anger out on the kid.
❝ Oi, go find yer senior. Now, kid. ❞
That's all he had to say to send the inexperienced medic into a flurry, feet pounding against the floor to go find another medic, a more experienced one.
Ghost shifted with Albie in his arms, one arm tucked under his legs, and the other supporting his head and neck. He began to walk to the infirmary, following the medic's steps. His mind was killing him for speaking so much, he usually let his hands do the talking for him - whether thats fighting or using sign language.
Albie is practically dead weight in the man's grasp, head lolled back alongside his eyes, legs dangling down and shaking with every step. When he comes to consciousness again, Albie tries lifting his arm to block the lights, but grunts at the pain of his IV poking him. "Mm, no.." He shakes his head and tries to take it out, frowning at the uncomfortable feeling. "Get.. out-" He grumbles again, hooded eyes blocking the light and some of his vision, hence the blindness to all the blood now dripping down his arm, but at least the IV is out.
Ghost stood up when he heard noises coming from Albie. A roll of his eyes caused the man to take off his balaclava, hesitating for a moment. There wouldn't be anyone coming in anytime soon, but that doesn't mean he's uncomfortable with it. He took it off after a few seconds, covering Albie's eyes with the folded balaclava. He just washed it earlier this morning, so it shouldn't stink of blood, gunpowder or anything that came with the job. . Might smell like lavender or flowers, but - that's because that's the only laundry soap there was. totally.
HOWEVER, the next part, he struggled with. Not being a medical nurse meant he couldn't put in the IV back into Albie's arm. He turned away from the curtain, finally calling out to the medics at their desks.
❝ Oi, medics. Be quiet, an' come in here to put the IV back in on Albie. ❞
Albie grumbles and presses Ghost's balaclava to his eyes with his own arm, whining at the sudden pain, his legs kicking out as his back arches. "No- Mmm-" He shakes his head, sitting up and trying to leave with his heart rate through the roof, probably panicked and scared from fainting. "No! Ghost, get- Get me out of here!" He yells and stands weakly, balaclava dropped on the bed as he stumbles to get out, protesting against both Ghost's and the medics grip to get him back into bed. "Mmmmfh!"
❝ Albie — Al- Albie. Listen to me. ❞
His voice was gentler at first, before suddenly twisting back into his usual commanding tone, eyes narrowing. He glared at the medics who seemed to just stare, shoving them away for a moment. His hand, while gloved, found Albie's shoulder, squeezing it gently .. as gently as he can.
❝ Yer sick. Ye need th' fluids in ye, ta flush th' sickness out. ❞
Ghost spoke lowly, leaning towards Albie so he could only hear him, not caring about the missing balaclava that was now abandoned on the floors of the infirmary, nor the stares of the medics and soldiers who dared walk past when the curtain was open.
❝ An' between me an' ye, the medics get ye better food when yer in here. An' I'll stay here, personally, ta make sure 'ye don't get poisoned or injured more. ❞
Albie's breathing slows as he stares into Ghost's eyes, legs buckling under him as he weakly nods. "I- Okay.." He sits on the edge of the bed, spotting his blood-leaking arm and gagging. "I did that?" He looks in the direction of Ghost, eyes squeezed shut from more pain hitting him, hand in hand with his throbbing headache and burning chest. "My- My whole body hurts..." Albie whines out as he gets laid back down, one hand holding the bleeding area.
The other LT relaxed visibly, shoulders no longer tense, when Albie listened to him, finally sitting back down on the bed. Phew. Thought he wouldve had to hold jim down while the medics put the new IV in.
❝ Ye tore it outta yer arm when ye woke up. ❞
Ghost nodded his head, finally picking his balaclava up and putting it in his pocket. He walked over to the side of the bed, out of the way of the medics so they can bandage the bleeding and put another IV into Albie's arm.
❝ Expected, yer sick. Dunno how long ye were sick before I came ta check up on ya, Lieutenant. ❞
"Just.. A couple days.." He mumbles and leans his head back, sniffling while wiping his nose. "Feels like my chest is.. On fire." He pauses and opens his eyes, but closes them at the bright lights. "Ghost..?" He weakly speaks up and opens his eyes a smidge, just so he can see the Luitenant.
Ghost mumbled something along the lines of ❝ Idiots, not checkin' up on their lieutenant sooner. ❞ when he heard the 'couple days' response — his teeth gritting when he finished the mumble, but he paused when he heard his name.
❝ ...Yeah, Albie? ❞
He questioned, tilting his head just a bit, one brow raised in questioning as Ghost huffed, arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing a black hoodie instead of the vest he wore earlier, preferring comfort over tactically as of the moment.
Albie sits in silence for a moment, then lets out a heavy sigh. "My.. My room-" He mutters, eyes fluttering from the lights above them. "Black hoodie, smells... Like perfume.." He makes a little hand gesture, trying to distract himself from the upcoming IV. "Could you grab it...? Should be-" He pauses to take a deep breath, eyes now closed as he tries to console himself. "Should be on my floor, maybe near... The bathroom."
Ghost nodded, slipping the balaclava back on his face. His eyes stone cold, set in a glare as he slipped into the shadows -not really, i mean, he just stepped out as quiet as a mouse- before approaching Albie's room, opening the door to look for the hoodie he asked him to bring. After a good five minutes of searching -it was helpful that the rooms given are usually small and clearing out rooms quickly is a given in the field-, he brought the hoodie back to the infirmary. Longer than he wished to take, but he got it nonetheless.
❝ Here 'ye go, Albie. ❞
Ghost said, taking the time to place it delicately on Albie's lap in the cot.
Angst open rp
My man is sad, give him some love (maybe reflected off mod who's maybe crying and maybe doing this to themself)
Albie was really off recently, kind of sulking and rarely eating his meals. He's in his barracks at the moment, small room empty as he lies under the covers, making small whimpers and whines of agony. He'd been seen rarely outside of his barracks, then he disappeared into his room. From outside, Albie's whines are softly audible and weak, the man shuffling slowly as he lays on his bed. Inside, the man is curled with his back to the door, shaking and crying with his head shoved into a pillow. He goes silent every few half hours, falling asleep from the exhaustion of crying all the time. So now, a soldier stands at his door, listening inside and trying to talk to the whimpering man.
The steps to the lieutenant's barracks was quick, easily calculated into his plan of the day. His boots barely made any sound against the hard linoleum flooring of the base. His hand reached up, knuckles pressing against the closed door in front of Ghost. Easy there, Soldier. Remember your training. Be nice to others, not too nice - just let them know, subtly, that your looking out for them.
The ice cold water bottle was held in his other hand, a snack - a brand of chips he already forgot the name of - was in his pocket, just waiting to be chewed up. Finally, the knuckle of his pointer finger met the wood. His jaw worked underneath the balaclava, the 'comforting' words dying on the tip of his tongue. He hesitated, before speaking.
❝ Lieutenant. Le' me in. Got somethin' for 'ya. ❞
Ghost immediately winced at how.. cold and distant he sounded. He wasn't good at comforting, but something inside him -even if it was small- was there a little bit of the simon he himself knew a long time ago. thought it had died out, snuffed like an open flame against rain. That piece of him breathed with the body, wishing to comfort others like he wished to be comforted. But no matter, he should just shake it off and not.. get too close. Not too close enough where they can get burned, afterall.
Albie grumbles from inside and shuffles, before a thunk is heard from the door, then a loud and pained groan. "Hrrr... Test the door.." He croaks out, laying on the floor where he had fallen, his legs too weak to hold him up. "Mmm, don't hit me.."
Ghost paused as he heard the audible thunk, before not waiting another minute. The door opened quickly, the hallway's light illuminating on his back, a shadow spreading into the room. Though, he didn't melt into it like he always did. With calculated steps, he made his way to Albie who was on the floor, door closing behind him.
He squatted down to level himself with Albie, staying silent for a moment.
❝ ..You sleepin' on th' floor? ❞
"I fell.." He mumbles with closed eyes, slowly sitting up against the bedside table. "I'm just... Tired. That's all, sir." He tries to wave it off, calling Ghost 'sir' even though their the same rank. "And sick..." He quietly mumbles into his hands while he rubs his nose.
Ghost had to hold himself back from letting an irritated sigh out, placing the water bottle on the nightstand when he stood back up - yet, he crouched once more, hooking his arms underneath Albie to pick him up, just for a moment, placing him back into bed.
❝ Don' call m' sir, Albie. I'll be bringin' ye some food, healthier than these crisps in me pocket. ❞
Hesitation lingered in his bones as he stood there, staring at Albie for a second.
❝ An' drink th' damn water or else I'll make sure 'ya drink it by forcin' 'ye too. ❞
With that, a turn, quick tilt of the door's handle to open, then it closed behind him - his plan set in motion as he walked to the mess hall.
Albie looks horrible, and utterly drained out of his soul. His skin was pale, head burning, and eyes watering from nothing. He wriggles under Ghost's grip, but doesn't protest, just letting it happen. "Mm.." He nods slowly and takes the bottle, sipping from it with a few drops spilling onto his jumper and chin when Ghost is gone. "Mmmfh.." The man groans and puts it down, staring off into the void with a heavy sigh. "I'm so-" He grumbles and lays down, curling under the blankets and doubting his entire life choices that lead to this moment. He should be at home, with his wife and daughter, being tended to by them, and not the ragged soldiers on base because he was too weak to walk to the infirmary.
When Ghost comes back, Albie is curled in a ball under the thin blanket, asleep with about a quarter left of the water in the bottle he was given. The man had fallen asleep, and crying from the looks of it, as Albie's hands were over his face and cheeks stained with red streaks.
Ghost had brought another water bottle, and of course some soup. Not really home-made, but it was a soup, nonetheless. He placed the steaming bowl down on his nightstand, spoon dipped into the liquid food. He stared for a moment, placing down the bottle next to the half drunken one. Hmmn.
He tilted his head, observing. He hesitated for a moment, exhaling a quiet sigh. Pulling off his glove, he placed the backside of his hand on Albie's forehead - best he could do, just to get a feel of his temperature. Grimacing underneath his balaclava when he felt the fever. Definitely a fever, felt like molten rock compared to his own temperature.
❝ Christ. ❞
— is all he said before he removed his hand, putting his glove back on. A grumble escaped him, turning as he left the room to go get a medic, leading them back to the room so they could take care of the clearly sick Lieutenant.
Albie wakes as they come back, slowly sitting up with a croak, turning to face the two and sit on the edge of the bed. The man tries to protest a little, but is too weak and tired to do that, so all that comes out is a grumble and shy hands pushing away. "Nn..No-" He shakes his head and looks to Ghost, pointing to the soup bowl. "Hon.. Honey?"
Everything seemed to freeze for Ghost, hands stilling, before he stared off at Albie, a brow raised underneath his balaclava. Before he decided to break the awkward silence with words, laced with confusion.
❝ What. Say tha' 'gain? ❞
He glanced over at the soup bowl that he had placed down a little bit less than ten minutes ago.
❝ Tha' soup. 'ts chicken somethin'. ❞
Ghost grumbled, shifting slightly so he could help the medic take his vitals. He didn't know why they had to do it in Albie's room and not the infirmary, probably more comforting for the sick man to be in a familiar place other than a stuffy, white and barren area with just enough cots to handle the soldiers.
"Mm.." Albie nods slowly and droops down again, eyes closing with exhaustion. He looked horrible, in all honesty. As said before, he wanted to go home and rest the days away with his family, not on the shitty base where he shivered every night because of his temperature flushes. The medic shines a light in his eyes, making Albie duck away and rub his sensitive eyes, groaning weakly and curling in on himself. "Noo..." He shakes his head, vision all blurry, ears ringing loudly, and his vision cutting off when he faints against the medic.
❝ Albie— ❞
Ghost's eyes widened just slightly, easily catching Albie; moving with his agility to keep him from knocking into the floor or anything, the medic clearly was panicking. Rookie Medic, eh? And noone dared to tell him?? That irked him, but he couldn't take his anger out on the kid.
❝ Oi, go find yer senior. Now, kid. ❞
That's all he had to say to send the inexperienced medic into a flurry, feet pounding against the floor to go find another medic, a more experienced one.
Ghost shifted with Albie in his arms, one arm tucked under his legs, and the other supporting his head and neck. He began to walk to the infirmary, following the medic's steps. His mind was killing him for speaking so much, he usually let his hands do the talking for him - whether thats fighting or using sign language.
Albie is practically dead weight in the man's grasp, head lolled back alongside his eyes, legs dangling down and shaking with every step. When he comes to consciousness again, Albie tries lifting his arm to block the lights, but grunts at the pain of his IV poking him. "Mm, no.." He shakes his head and tries to take it out, frowning at the uncomfortable feeling. "Get.. out-" He grumbles again, hooded eyes blocking the light and some of his vision, hence the blindness to all the blood now dripping down his arm, but at least the IV is out.
Ghost stood up when he heard noises coming from Albie. A roll of his eyes caused the man to take off his balaclava, hesitating for a moment. There wouldn't be anyone coming in anytime soon, but that doesn't mean he's uncomfortable with it. He took it off after a few seconds, covering Albie's eyes with the folded balaclava. He just washed it earlier this morning, so it shouldn't stink of blood, gunpowder or anything that came with the job. . Might smell like lavender or flowers, but - that's because that's the only laundry soap there was. totally.
HOWEVER, the next part, he struggled with. Not being a medical nurse meant he couldn't put in the IV back into Albie's arm. He turned away from the curtain, finally calling out to the medics at their desks.
❝ Oi, medics. Be quiet, an' come in here to put the IV back in on Albie. ❞
Albie grumbles and presses Ghost's balaclava to his eyes with his own arm, whining at the sudden pain, his legs kicking out as his back arches. "No- Mmm-" He shakes his head, sitting up and trying to leave with his heart rate through the roof, probably panicked and scared from fainting. "No! Ghost, get- Get me out of here!" He yells and stands weakly, balaclava dropped on the bed as he stumbles to get out, protesting against both Ghost's and the medics grip to get him back into bed. "Mmmmfh!"
❝ Albie — Al- Albie. Listen to me. ❞
His voice was gentler at first, before suddenly twisting back into his usual commanding tone, eyes narrowing. He glared at the medics who seemed to just stare, shoving them away for a moment. His hand, while gloved, found Albie's shoulder, squeezing it gently .. as gently as he can.
❝ Yer sick. Ye need th' fluids in ye, ta flush th' sickness out. ❞
Ghost spoke lowly, leaning towards Albie so he could only hear him, not caring about the missing balaclava that was now abandoned on the floors of the infirmary, nor the stares of the medics and soldiers who dared walk past when the curtain was open.
❝ An' between me an' ye, the medics get ye better food when yer in here. An' I'll stay here, personally, ta make sure 'ye don't get poisoned or injured more. ❞
Albie's breathing slows as he stares into Ghost's eyes, legs buckling under him as he weakly nods. "I- Okay.." He sits on the edge of the bed, spotting his blood-leaking arm and gagging. "I did that?" He looks in the direction of Ghost, eyes squeezed shut from more pain hitting him, hand in hand with his throbbing headache and burning chest. "My- My whole body hurts..." Albie whines out as he gets laid back down, one hand holding the bleeding area.
The other LT relaxed visibly, shoulders no longer tense, when Albie listened to him, finally sitting back down on the bed. Phew. Thought he wouldve had to hold jim down while the medics put the new IV in.
❝ Ye tore it outta yer arm when ye woke up. ❞
Ghost nodded his head, finally picking his balaclava up and putting it in his pocket. He walked over to the side of the bed, out of the way of the medics so they can bandage the bleeding and put another IV into Albie's arm.
❝ Expected, yer sick. Dunno how long ye were sick before I came ta check up on ya, Lieutenant. ❞
"Just.. A couple days.." He mumbles and leans his head back, sniffling while wiping his nose. "Feels like my chest is.. On fire." He pauses and opens his eyes, but closes them at the bright lights. "Ghost..?" He weakly speaks up and opens his eyes a smidge, just so he can see the Luitenant.
Ghost mumbled something along the lines of ❝ Idiots, not checkin' up on their lieutenant sooner. ❞ when he heard the 'couple days' response — his teeth gritting when he finished the mumble, but he paused when he heard his name.
❝ ...Yeah, Albie? ❞
He questioned, tilting his head just a bit, one brow raised in questioning as Ghost huffed, arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing a black hoodie instead of the vest he wore earlier, preferring comfort over tactically as of the moment.
Angst open rp
My man is sad, give him some love (maybe reflected off mod who's maybe crying and maybe doing this to themself)
Albie was really off recently, kind of sulking and rarely eating his meals. He's in his barracks at the moment, small room empty as he lies under the covers, making small whimpers and whines of agony. He'd been seen rarely outside of his barracks, then he disappeared into his room. From outside, Albie's whines are softly audible and weak, the man shuffling slowly as he lays on his bed. Inside, the man is curled with his back to the door, shaking and crying with his head shoved into a pillow. He goes silent every few half hours, falling asleep from the exhaustion of crying all the time. So now, a soldier stands at his door, listening inside and trying to talk to the whimpering man.
The steps to the lieutenant's barracks was quick, easily calculated into his plan of the day. His boots barely made any sound against the hard linoleum flooring of the base. His hand reached up, knuckles pressing against the closed door in front of Ghost. Easy there, Soldier. Remember your training. Be nice to others, not too nice - just let them know, subtly, that your looking out for them.
The ice cold water bottle was held in his other hand, a snack - a brand of chips he already forgot the name of - was in his pocket, just waiting to be chewed up. Finally, the knuckle of his pointer finger met the wood. His jaw worked underneath the balaclava, the 'comforting' words dying on the tip of his tongue. He hesitated, before speaking.
❝ Lieutenant. Le' me in. Got somethin' for 'ya. ❞
Ghost immediately winced at how.. cold and distant he sounded. He wasn't good at comforting, but something inside him -even if it was small- was there a little bit of the simon he himself knew a long time ago. thought it had died out, snuffed like an open flame against rain. That piece of him breathed with the body, wishing to comfort others like he wished to be comforted. But no matter, he should just shake it off and not.. get too close. Not too close enough where they can get burned, afterall.
Albie grumbles from inside and shuffles, before a thunk is heard from the door, then a loud and pained groan. "Hrrr... Test the door.." He croaks out, laying on the floor where he had fallen, his legs too weak to hold him up. "Mmm, don't hit me.."
Ghost paused as he heard the audible thunk, before not waiting another minute. The door opened quickly, the hallway's light illuminating on his back, a shadow spreading into the room. Though, he didn't melt into it like he always did. With calculated steps, he made his way to Albie who was on the floor, door closing behind him.
He squatted down to level himself with Albie, staying silent for a moment.
❝ ..You sleepin' on th' floor? ❞
"I fell.." He mumbles with closed eyes, slowly sitting up against the bedside table. "I'm just... Tired. That's all, sir." He tries to wave it off, calling Ghost 'sir' even though their the same rank. "And sick..." He quietly mumbles into his hands while he rubs his nose.
Ghost had to hold himself back from letting an irritated sigh out, placing the water bottle on the nightstand when he stood back up - yet, he crouched once more, hooking his arms underneath Albie to pick him up, just for a moment, placing him back into bed.
❝ Don' call m' sir, Albie. I'll be bringin' ye some food, healthier than these crisps in me pocket. ❞
Hesitation lingered in his bones as he stood there, staring at Albie for a second.
❝ An' drink th' damn water or else I'll make sure 'ya drink it by forcin' 'ye too. ❞
With that, a turn, quick tilt of the door's handle to open, then it closed behind him - his plan set in motion as he walked to the mess hall.
Albie looks horrible, and utterly drained out of his soul. His skin was pale, head burning, and eyes watering from nothing. He wriggles under Ghost's grip, but doesn't protest, just letting it happen. "Mm.." He nods slowly and takes the bottle, sipping from it with a few drops spilling onto his jumper and chin when Ghost is gone. "Mmmfh.." The man groans and puts it down, staring off into the void with a heavy sigh. "I'm so-" He grumbles and lays down, curling under the blankets and doubting his entire life choices that lead to this moment. He should be at home, with his wife and daughter, being tended to by them, and not the ragged soldiers on base because he was too weak to walk to the infirmary.
When Ghost comes back, Albie is curled in a ball under the thin blanket, asleep with about a quarter left of the water in the bottle he was given. The man had fallen asleep, and crying from the looks of it, as Albie's hands were over his face and cheeks stained with red streaks.
Ghost had brought another water bottle, and of course some soup. Not really home-made, but it was a soup, nonetheless. He placed the steaming bowl down on his nightstand, spoon dipped into the liquid food. He stared for a moment, placing down the bottle next to the half drunken one. Hmmn.
He tilted his head, observing. He hesitated for a moment, exhaling a quiet sigh. Pulling off his glove, he placed the backside of his hand on Albie's forehead - best he could do, just to get a feel of his temperature. Grimacing underneath his balaclava when he felt the fever. Definitely a fever, felt like molten rock compared to his own temperature.
❝ Christ. ❞
— is all he said before he removed his hand, putting his glove back on. A grumble escaped him, turning as he left the room to go get a medic, leading them back to the room so they could take care of the clearly sick Lieutenant.
Albie wakes as they come back, slowly sitting up with a croak, turning to face the two and sit on the edge of the bed. The man tries to protest a little, but is too weak and tired to do that, so all that comes out is a grumble and shy hands pushing away. "Nn..No-" He shakes his head and looks to Ghost, pointing to the soup bowl. "Hon.. Honey?"
Everything seemed to freeze for Ghost, hands stilling, before he stared off at Albie, a brow raised underneath his balaclava. Before he decided to break the awkward silence with words, laced with confusion.
❝ What. Say tha' 'gain? ❞
He glanced over at the soup bowl that he had placed down a little bit less than ten minutes ago.
❝ Tha' soup. 'ts chicken somethin'. ❞
Ghost grumbled, shifting slightly so he could help the medic take his vitals. He didn't know why they had to do it in Albie's room and not the infirmary, probably more comforting for the sick man to be in a familiar place other than a stuffy, white and barren area with just enough cots to handle the soldiers.
"Mm.." Albie nods slowly and droops down again, eyes closing with exhaustion. He looked horrible, in all honesty. As said before, he wanted to go home and rest the days away with his family, not on the shitty base where he shivered every night because of his temperature flushes. The medic shines a light in his eyes, making Albie duck away and rub his sensitive eyes, groaning weakly and curling in on himself. "Noo..." He shakes his head, vision all blurry, ears ringing loudly, and his vision cutting off when he faints against the medic.
❝ Albie— ❞
Ghost's eyes widened just slightly, easily catching Albie; moving with his agility to keep him from knocking into the floor or anything, the medic clearly was panicking. Rookie Medic, eh? And noone dared to tell him?? That irked him, but he couldn't take his anger out on the kid.
❝ Oi, go find yer senior. Now, kid. ❞
That's all he had to say to send the inexperienced medic into a flurry, feet pounding against the floor to go find another medic, a more experienced one.
Ghost shifted with Albie in his arms, one arm tucked under his legs, and the other supporting his head and neck. He began to walk to the infirmary, following the medic's steps. His mind was killing him for speaking so much, he usually let his hands do the talking for him - whether thats fighting or using sign language.
Albie is practically dead weight in the man's grasp, head lolled back alongside his eyes, legs dangling down and shaking with every step. When he comes to consciousness again, Albie tries lifting his arm to block the lights, but grunts at the pain of his IV poking him. "Mm, no.." He shakes his head and tries to take it out, frowning at the uncomfortable feeling. "Get.. out-" He grumbles again, hooded eyes blocking the light and some of his vision, hence the blindness to all the blood now dripping down his arm, but at least the IV is out.
Ghost stood up when he heard noises coming from Albie. A roll of his eyes caused the man to take off his balaclava, hesitating for a moment. There wouldn't be anyone coming in anytime soon, but that doesn't mean he's uncomfortable with it. He took it off after a few seconds, covering Albie's eyes with the folded balaclava. He just washed it earlier this morning, so it shouldn't stink of blood, gunpowder or anything that came with the job. . Might smell like lavender or flowers, but - that's because that's the only laundry soap there was. totally.
HOWEVER, the next part, he struggled with. Not being a medical nurse meant he couldn't put in the IV back into Albie's arm. He turned away from the curtain, finally calling out to the medics at their desks.
❝ Oi, medics. Be quiet, an' come in here to put the IV back in on Albie. ❞
Albie grumbles and presses Ghost's balaclava to his eyes with his own arm, whining at the sudden pain, his legs kicking out as his back arches. "No- Mmm-" He shakes his head, sitting up and trying to leave with his heart rate through the roof, probably panicked and scared from fainting. "No! Ghost, get- Get me out of here!" He yells and stands weakly, balaclava dropped on the bed as he stumbles to get out, protesting against both Ghost's and the medics grip to get him back into bed. "Mmmmfh!"
❝ Albie — Al- Albie. Listen to me. ❞
His voice was gentler at first, before suddenly twisting back into his usual commanding tone, eyes narrowing. He glared at the medics who seemed to just stare, shoving them away for a moment. His hand, while gloved, found Albie's shoulder, squeezing it gently .. as gently as he can.
❝ Yer sick. Ye need th' fluids in ye, ta flush th' sickness out. ❞
Ghost spoke lowly, leaning towards Albie so he could only hear him, not caring about the missing balaclava that was now abandoned on the floors of the infirmary, nor the stares of the medics and soldiers who dared walk past when the curtain was open.
❝ An' between me an' ye, the medics get ye better food when yer in here. An' I'll stay here, personally, ta make sure 'ye don't get poisoned or injured more. ❞
Albie's breathing slows as he stares into Ghost's eyes, legs buckling under him as he weakly nods. "I- Okay.." He sits on the edge of the bed, spotting his blood-leaking arm and gagging. "I did that?" He looks in the direction of Ghost, eyes squeezed shut from more pain hitting him, hand in hand with his throbbing headache and burning chest. "My- My whole body hurts..." Albie whines out as he gets laid back down, one hand holding the bleeding area.
The other LT relaxed visibly, shoulders no longer tense, when Albie listened to him, finally sitting back down on the bed. Phew. Thought he wouldve had to hold jim down while the medics put the new IV in.
❝ Ye tore it outta yer arm when ye woke up. ❞
Ghost nodded his head, finally picking his balaclava up and putting it in his pocket. He walked over to the side of the bed, out of the way of the medics so they can bandage the bleeding and put another IV into Albie's arm.
❝ Expected, yer sick. Dunno how long ye were sick before I came ta check up on ya, Lieutenant. ❞
Angst open rp
My man is sad, give him some love (maybe reflected off mod who's maybe crying and maybe doing this to themself)
Albie was really off recently, kind of sulking and rarely eating his meals. He's in his barracks at the moment, small room empty as he lies under the covers, making small whimpers and whines of agony. He'd been seen rarely outside of his barracks, then he disappeared into his room. From outside, Albie's whines are softly audible and weak, the man shuffling slowly as he lays on his bed. Inside, the man is curled with his back to the door, shaking and crying with his head shoved into a pillow. He goes silent every few half hours, falling asleep from the exhaustion of crying all the time. So now, a soldier stands at his door, listening inside and trying to talk to the whimpering man.
The steps to the lieutenant's barracks was quick, easily calculated into his plan of the day. His boots barely made any sound against the hard linoleum flooring of the base. His hand reached up, knuckles pressing against the closed door in front of Ghost. Easy there, Soldier. Remember your training. Be nice to others, not too nice - just let them know, subtly, that your looking out for them.
The ice cold water bottle was held in his other hand, a snack - a brand of chips he already forgot the name of - was in his pocket, just waiting to be chewed up. Finally, the knuckle of his pointer finger met the wood. His jaw worked underneath the balaclava, the 'comforting' words dying on the tip of his tongue. He hesitated, before speaking.
❝ Lieutenant. Le' me in. Got somethin' for 'ya. ❞
Ghost immediately winced at how.. cold and distant he sounded. He wasn't good at comforting, but something inside him -even if it was small- was there a little bit of the simon he himself knew a long time ago. thought it had died out, snuffed like an open flame against rain. That piece of him breathed with the body, wishing to comfort others like he wished to be comforted. But no matter, he should just shake it off and not.. get too close. Not too close enough where they can get burned, afterall.
Albie grumbles from inside and shuffles, before a thunk is heard from the door, then a loud and pained groan. "Hrrr... Test the door.." He croaks out, laying on the floor where he had fallen, his legs too weak to hold him up. "Mmm, don't hit me.."
Ghost paused as he heard the audible thunk, before not waiting another minute. The door opened quickly, the hallway's light illuminating on his back, a shadow spreading into the room. Though, he didn't melt into it like he always did. With calculated steps, he made his way to Albie who was on the floor, door closing behind him.
He squatted down to level himself with Albie, staying silent for a moment.
❝ ..You sleepin' on th' floor? ❞
"I fell.." He mumbles with closed eyes, slowly sitting up against the bedside table. "I'm just... Tired. That's all, sir." He tries to wave it off, calling Ghost 'sir' even though their the same rank. "And sick..." He quietly mumbles into his hands while he rubs his nose.
Ghost had to hold himself back from letting an irritated sigh out, placing the water bottle on the nightstand when he stood back up - yet, he crouched once more, hooking his arms underneath Albie to pick him up, just for a moment, placing him back into bed.
❝ Don' call m' sir, Albie. I'll be bringin' ye some food, healthier than these crisps in me pocket. ❞
Hesitation lingered in his bones as he stood there, staring at Albie for a second.
❝ An' drink th' damn water or else I'll make sure 'ya drink it by forcin' 'ye too. ❞
With that, a turn, quick tilt of the door's handle to open, then it closed behind him - his plan set in motion as he walked to the mess hall.
Albie looks horrible, and utterly drained out of his soul. His skin was pale, head burning, and eyes watering from nothing. He wriggles under Ghost's grip, but doesn't protest, just letting it happen. "Mm.." He nods slowly and takes the bottle, sipping from it with a few drops spilling onto his jumper and chin when Ghost is gone. "Mmmfh.." The man groans and puts it down, staring off into the void with a heavy sigh. "I'm so-" He grumbles and lays down, curling under the blankets and doubting his entire life choices that lead to this moment. He should be at home, with his wife and daughter, being tended to by them, and not the ragged soldiers on base because he was too weak to walk to the infirmary.
When Ghost comes back, Albie is curled in a ball under the thin blanket, asleep with about a quarter left of the water in the bottle he was given. The man had fallen asleep, and crying from the looks of it, as Albie's hands were over his face and cheeks stained with red streaks.
Ghost had brought another water bottle, and of course some soup. Not really home-made, but it was a soup, nonetheless. He placed the steaming bowl down on his nightstand, spoon dipped into the liquid food. He stared for a moment, placing down the bottle next to the half drunken one. Hmmn.
He tilted his head, observing. He hesitated for a moment, exhaling a quiet sigh. Pulling off his glove, he placed the backside of his hand on Albie's forehead - best he could do, just to get a feel of his temperature. Grimacing underneath his balaclava when he felt the fever. Definitely a fever, felt like molten rock compared to his own temperature.
❝ Christ. ❞
— is all he said before he removed his hand, putting his glove back on. A grumble escaped him, turning as he left the room to go get a medic, leading them back to the room so they could take care of the clearly sick Lieutenant.
Albie wakes as they come back, slowly sitting up with a croak, turning to face the two and sit on the edge of the bed. The man tries to protest a little, but is too weak and tired to do that, so all that comes out is a grumble and shy hands pushing away. "Nn..No-" He shakes his head and looks to Ghost, pointing to the soup bowl. "Hon.. Honey?"
Everything seemed to freeze for Ghost, hands stilling, before he stared off at Albie, a brow raised underneath his balaclava. Before he decided to break the awkward silence with words, laced with confusion.
❝ What. Say tha' 'gain? ❞
He glanced over at the soup bowl that he had placed down a little bit less than ten minutes ago.
❝ Tha' soup. 'ts chicken somethin'. ❞
Ghost grumbled, shifting slightly so he could help the medic take his vitals. He didn't know why they had to do it in Albie's room and not the infirmary, probably more comforting for the sick man to be in a familiar place other than a stuffy, white and barren area with just enough cots to handle the soldiers.
"Mm.." Albie nods slowly and droops down again, eyes closing with exhaustion. He looked horrible, in all honesty. As said before, he wanted to go home and rest the days away with his family, not on the shitty base where he shivered every night because of his temperature flushes. The medic shines a light in his eyes, making Albie duck away and rub his sensitive eyes, groaning weakly and curling in on himself. "Noo..." He shakes his head, vision all blurry, ears ringing loudly, and his vision cutting off when he faints against the medic.
❝ Albie— ❞
Ghost's eyes widened just slightly, easily catching Albie; moving with his agility to keep him from knocking into the floor or anything, the medic clearly was panicking. Rookie Medic, eh? And noone dared to tell him?? That irked him, but he couldn't take his anger out on the kid.
❝ Oi, go find yer senior. Now, kid. ❞
That's all he had to say to send the inexperienced medic into a flurry, feet pounding against the floor to go find another medic, a more experienced one.
Ghost shifted with Albie in his arms, one arm tucked under his legs, and the other supporting his head and neck. He began to walk to the infirmary, following the medic's steps. His mind was killing him for speaking so much, he usually let his hands do the talking for him - whether thats fighting or using sign language.
Albie is practically dead weight in the man's grasp, head lolled back alongside his eyes, legs dangling down and shaking with every step. When he comes to consciousness again, Albie tries lifting his arm to block the lights, but grunts at the pain of his IV poking him. "Mm, no.." He shakes his head and tries to take it out, frowning at the uncomfortable feeling. "Get.. out-" He grumbles again, hooded eyes blocking the light and some of his vision, hence the blindness to all the blood now dripping down his arm, but at least the IV is out.
Ghost stood up when he heard noises coming from Albie. A roll of his eyes caused the man to take off his balaclava, hesitating for a moment. There wouldn't be anyone coming in anytime soon, but that doesn't mean he's uncomfortable with it. He took it off after a few seconds, covering Albie's eyes with the folded balaclava. He just washed it earlier this morning, so it shouldn't stink of blood, gunpowder or anything that came with the job. . Might smell like lavender or flowers, but - that's because that's the only laundry soap there was. totally.
HOWEVER, the next part, he struggled with. Not being a medical nurse meant he couldn't put in the IV back into Albie's arm. He turned away from the curtain, finally calling out to the medics at their desks.
❝ Oi, medics. Be quiet, an' come in here to put the IV back in on Albie. ❞
Albie grumbles and presses Ghost's balaclava to his eyes with his own arm, whining at the sudden pain, his legs kicking out as his back arches. "No- Mmm-" He shakes his head, sitting up and trying to leave with his heart rate through the roof, probably panicked and scared from fainting. "No! Ghost, get- Get me out of here!" He yells and stands weakly, balaclava dropped on the bed as he stumbles to get out, protesting against both Ghost's and the medics grip to get him back into bed. "Mmmmfh!"
❝ Albie — Al- Albie. Listen to me. ❞
His voice was gentler at first, before suddenly twisting back into his usual commanding tone, eyes narrowing. He glared at the medics who seemed to just stare, shoving them away for a moment. His hand, while gloved, found Albie's shoulder, squeezing it gently .. as gently as he can.
❝ Yer sick. Ye need th' fluids in ye, ta flush th' sickness out. ❞
Ghost spoke lowly, leaning towards Albie so he could only hear him, not caring about the missing balaclava that was now abandoned on the floors of the infirmary, nor the stares of the medics and soldiers who dared walk past when the curtain was open.
❝ An' between me an' ye, the medics get ye better food when yer in here. An' I'll stay here, personally, ta make sure 'ye don't get poisoned or injured more. ❞
Angst open rp
My man is sad, give him some love (maybe reflected off mod who's maybe crying and maybe doing this to themself)
Albie was really off recently, kind of sulking and rarely eating his meals. He's in his barracks at the moment, small room empty as he lies under the covers, making small whimpers and whines of agony. He'd been seen rarely outside of his barracks, then he disappeared into his room. From outside, Albie's whines are softly audible and weak, the man shuffling slowly as he lays on his bed. Inside, the man is curled with his back to the door, shaking and crying with his head shoved into a pillow. He goes silent every few half hours, falling asleep from the exhaustion of crying all the time. So now, a soldier stands at his door, listening inside and trying to talk to the whimpering man.
The steps to the lieutenant's barracks was quick, easily calculated into his plan of the day. His boots barely made any sound against the hard linoleum flooring of the base. His hand reached up, knuckles pressing against the closed door in front of Ghost. Easy there, Soldier. Remember your training. Be nice to others, not too nice - just let them know, subtly, that your looking out for them.
The ice cold water bottle was held in his other hand, a snack - a brand of chips he already forgot the name of - was in his pocket, just waiting to be chewed up. Finally, the knuckle of his pointer finger met the wood. His jaw worked underneath the balaclava, the 'comforting' words dying on the tip of his tongue. He hesitated, before speaking.
❝ Lieutenant. Le' me in. Got somethin' for 'ya. ❞
Ghost immediately winced at how.. cold and distant he sounded. He wasn't good at comforting, but something inside him -even if it was small- was there a little bit of the simon he himself knew a long time ago. thought it had died out, snuffed like an open flame against rain. That piece of him breathed with the body, wishing to comfort others like he wished to be comforted. But no matter, he should just shake it off and not.. get too close. Not too close enough where they can get burned, afterall.
Albie grumbles from inside and shuffles, before a thunk is heard from the door, then a loud and pained groan. "Hrrr... Test the door.." He croaks out, laying on the floor where he had fallen, his legs too weak to hold him up. "Mmm, don't hit me.."
Ghost paused as he heard the audible thunk, before not waiting another minute. The door opened quickly, the hallway's light illuminating on his back, a shadow spreading into the room. Though, he didn't melt into it like he always did. With calculated steps, he made his way to Albie who was on the floor, door closing behind him.
He squatted down to level himself with Albie, staying silent for a moment.
❝ ..You sleepin' on th' floor? ❞
"I fell.." He mumbles with closed eyes, slowly sitting up against the bedside table. "I'm just... Tired. That's all, sir." He tries to wave it off, calling Ghost 'sir' even though their the same rank. "And sick..." He quietly mumbles into his hands while he rubs his nose.
Ghost had to hold himself back from letting an irritated sigh out, placing the water bottle on the nightstand when he stood back up - yet, he crouched once more, hooking his arms underneath Albie to pick him up, just for a moment, placing him back into bed.
❝ Don' call m' sir, Albie. I'll be bringin' ye some food, healthier than these crisps in me pocket. ❞
Hesitation lingered in his bones as he stood there, staring at Albie for a second.
❝ An' drink th' damn water or else I'll make sure 'ya drink it by forcin' 'ye too. ❞
With that, a turn, quick tilt of the door's handle to open, then it closed behind him - his plan set in motion as he walked to the mess hall.
Albie looks horrible, and utterly drained out of his soul. His skin was pale, head burning, and eyes watering from nothing. He wriggles under Ghost's grip, but doesn't protest, just letting it happen. "Mm.." He nods slowly and takes the bottle, sipping from it with a few drops spilling onto his jumper and chin when Ghost is gone. "Mmmfh.." The man groans and puts it down, staring off into the void with a heavy sigh. "I'm so-" He grumbles and lays down, curling under the blankets and doubting his entire life choices that lead to this moment. He should be at home, with his wife and daughter, being tended to by them, and not the ragged soldiers on base because he was too weak to walk to the infirmary.
When Ghost comes back, Albie is curled in a ball under the thin blanket, asleep with about a quarter left of the water in the bottle he was given. The man had fallen asleep, and crying from the looks of it, as Albie's hands were over his face and cheeks stained with red streaks.
Ghost had brought another water bottle, and of course some soup. Not really home-made, but it was a soup, nonetheless. He placed the steaming bowl down on his nightstand, spoon dipped into the liquid food. He stared for a moment, placing down the bottle next to the half drunken one. Hmmn.
He tilted his head, observing. He hesitated for a moment, exhaling a quiet sigh. Pulling off his glove, he placed the backside of his hand on Albie's forehead - best he could do, just to get a feel of his temperature. Grimacing underneath his balaclava when he felt the fever. Definitely a fever, felt like molten rock compared to his own temperature.
❝ Christ. ❞
— is all he said before he removed his hand, putting his glove back on. A grumble escaped him, turning as he left the room to go get a medic, leading them back to the room so they could take care of the clearly sick Lieutenant.
Albie wakes as they come back, slowly sitting up with a croak, turning to face the two and sit on the edge of the bed. The man tries to protest a little, but is too weak and tired to do that, so all that comes out is a grumble and shy hands pushing away. "Nn..No-" He shakes his head and looks to Ghost, pointing to the soup bowl. "Hon.. Honey?"
Everything seemed to freeze for Ghost, hands stilling, before he stared off at Albie, a brow raised underneath his balaclava. Before he decided to break the awkward silence with words, laced with confusion.
❝ What. Say tha' 'gain? ❞
He glanced over at the soup bowl that he had placed down a little bit less than ten minutes ago.
❝ Tha' soup. 'ts chicken somethin'. ❞
Ghost grumbled, shifting slightly so he could help the medic take his vitals. He didn't know why they had to do it in Albie's room and not the infirmary, probably more comforting for the sick man to be in a familiar place other than a stuffy, white and barren area with just enough cots to handle the soldiers.
"Mm.." Albie nods slowly and droops down again, eyes closing with exhaustion. He looked horrible, in all honesty. As said before, he wanted to go home and rest the days away with his family, not on the shitty base where he shivered every night because of his temperature flushes. The medic shines a light in his eyes, making Albie duck away and rub his sensitive eyes, groaning weakly and curling in on himself. "Noo..." He shakes his head, vision all blurry, ears ringing loudly, and his vision cutting off when he faints against the medic.
❝ Albie— ❞
Ghost's eyes widened just slightly, easily catching Albie; moving with his agility to keep him from knocking into the floor or anything, the medic clearly was panicking. Rookie Medic, eh? And noone dared to tell him?? That irked him, but he couldn't take his anger out on the kid.
❝ Oi, go find yer senior. Now, kid. ❞
That's all he had to say to send the inexperienced medic into a flurry, feet pounding against the floor to go find another medic, a more experienced one.
Ghost shifted with Albie in his arms, one arm tucked under his legs, and the other supporting his head and neck. He began to walk to the infirmary, following the medic's steps. His mind was killing him for speaking so much, he usually let his hands do the talking for him - whether thats fighting or using sign language.
Albie is practically dead weight in the man's grasp, head lolled back alongside his eyes, legs dangling down and shaking with every step. When he comes to consciousness again, Albie tries lifting his arm to block the lights, but grunts at the pain of his IV poking him. "Mm, no.." He shakes his head and tries to take it out, frowning at the uncomfortable feeling. "Get.. out-" He grumbles again, hooded eyes blocking the light and some of his vision, hence the blindness to all the blood now dripping down his arm, but at least the IV is out.
Ghost stood up when he heard noises coming from Albie. A roll of his eyes caused the man to take off his balaclava, hesitating for a moment. There wouldn't be anyone coming in anytime soon, but that doesn't mean he's uncomfortable with it. He took it off after a few seconds, covering Albie's eyes with the folded balaclava. He just washed it earlier this morning, so it shouldn't stink of blood, gunpowder or anything that came with the job. . Might smell like lavender or flowers, but - that's because that's the only laundry soap there was. totally.
HOWEVER, the next part, he struggled with. Not being a medical nurse meant he couldn't put in the IV back into Albie's arm. He turned away from the curtain, finally calling out to the medics at their desks.
❝ Oi, medics. Be quiet, an' come in here to put the IV back in on Albie. ❞
100 posts!
ok soim gonna go kill people /major joke
Angst open rp
My man is sad, give him some love (maybe reflected off mod who's maybe crying and maybe doing this to themself)
Albie was really off recently, kind of sulking and rarely eating his meals. He's in his barracks at the moment, small room empty as he lies under the covers, making small whimpers and whines of agony. He'd been seen rarely outside of his barracks, then he disappeared into his room. From outside, Albie's whines are softly audible and weak, the man shuffling slowly as he lays on his bed. Inside, the man is curled with his back to the door, shaking and crying with his head shoved into a pillow. He goes silent every few half hours, falling asleep from the exhaustion of crying all the time. So now, a soldier stands at his door, listening inside and trying to talk to the whimpering man.
The steps to the lieutenant's barracks was quick, easily calculated into his plan of the day. His boots barely made any sound against the hard linoleum flooring of the base. His hand reached up, knuckles pressing against the closed door in front of Ghost. Easy there, Soldier. Remember your training. Be nice to others, not too nice - just let them know, subtly, that your looking out for them.
The ice cold water bottle was held in his other hand, a snack - a brand of chips he already forgot the name of - was in his pocket, just waiting to be chewed up. Finally, the knuckle of his pointer finger met the wood. His jaw worked underneath the balaclava, the 'comforting' words dying on the tip of his tongue. He hesitated, before speaking.
❝ Lieutenant. Le' me in. Got somethin' for 'ya. ❞
Ghost immediately winced at how.. cold and distant he sounded. He wasn't good at comforting, but something inside him -even if it was small- was there a little bit of the simon he himself knew a long time ago. thought it had died out, snuffed like an open flame against rain. That piece of him breathed with the body, wishing to comfort others like he wished to be comforted. But no matter, he should just shake it off and not.. get too close. Not too close enough where they can get burned, afterall.
Albie grumbles from inside and shuffles, before a thunk is heard from the door, then a loud and pained groan. "Hrrr... Test the door.." He croaks out, laying on the floor where he had fallen, his legs too weak to hold him up. "Mmm, don't hit me.."
Ghost paused as he heard the audible thunk, before not waiting another minute. The door opened quickly, the hallway's light illuminating on his back, a shadow spreading into the room. Though, he didn't melt into it like he always did. With calculated steps, he made his way to Albie who was on the floor, door closing behind him.
He squatted down to level himself with Albie, staying silent for a moment.
❝ ..You sleepin' on th' floor? ❞
"I fell.." He mumbles with closed eyes, slowly sitting up against the bedside table. "I'm just... Tired. That's all, sir." He tries to wave it off, calling Ghost 'sir' even though their the same rank. "And sick..." He quietly mumbles into his hands while he rubs his nose.
Ghost had to hold himself back from letting an irritated sigh out, placing the water bottle on the nightstand when he stood back up - yet, he crouched once more, hooking his arms underneath Albie to pick him up, just for a moment, placing him back into bed.
❝ Don' call m' sir, Albie. I'll be bringin' ye some food, healthier than these crisps in me pocket. ❞
Hesitation lingered in his bones as he stood there, staring at Albie for a second.
❝ An' drink th' damn water or else I'll make sure 'ya drink it by forcin' 'ye too. ❞
With that, a turn, quick tilt of the door's handle to open, then it closed behind him - his plan set in motion as he walked to the mess hall.
Albie looks horrible, and utterly drained out of his soul. His skin was pale, head burning, and eyes watering from nothing. He wriggles under Ghost's grip, but doesn't protest, just letting it happen. "Mm.." He nods slowly and takes the bottle, sipping from it with a few drops spilling onto his jumper and chin when Ghost is gone. "Mmmfh.." The man groans and puts it down, staring off into the void with a heavy sigh. "I'm so-" He grumbles and lays down, curling under the blankets and doubting his entire life choices that lead to this moment. He should be at home, with his wife and daughter, being tended to by them, and not the ragged soldiers on base because he was too weak to walk to the infirmary.
When Ghost comes back, Albie is curled in a ball under the thin blanket, asleep with about a quarter left of the water in the bottle he was given. The man had fallen asleep, and crying from the looks of it, as Albie's hands were over his face and cheeks stained with red streaks.
Ghost had brought another water bottle, and of course some soup. Not really home-made, but it was a soup, nonetheless. He placed the steaming bowl down on his nightstand, spoon dipped into the liquid food. He stared for a moment, placing down the bottle next to the half drunken one. Hmmn.
He tilted his head, observing. He hesitated for a moment, exhaling a quiet sigh. Pulling off his glove, he placed the backside of his hand on Albie's forehead - best he could do, just to get a feel of his temperature. Grimacing underneath his balaclava when he felt the fever. Definitely a fever, felt like molten rock compared to his own temperature.
❝ Christ. ❞
— is all he said before he removed his hand, putting his glove back on. A grumble escaped him, turning as he left the room to go get a medic, leading them back to the room so they could take care of the clearly sick Lieutenant.
Albie wakes as they come back, slowly sitting up with a croak, turning to face the two and sit on the edge of the bed. The man tries to protest a little, but is too weak and tired to do that, so all that comes out is a grumble and shy hands pushing away. "Nn..No-" He shakes his head and looks to Ghost, pointing to the soup bowl. "Hon.. Honey?"
Everything seemed to freeze for Ghost, hands stilling, before he stared off at Albie, a brow raised underneath his balaclava. Before he decided to break the awkward silence with words, laced with confusion.
❝ What. Say tha' 'gain? ❞
He glanced over at the soup bowl that he had placed down a little bit less than ten minutes ago.
❝ Tha' soup. 'ts chicken somethin'. ❞
Ghost grumbled, shifting slightly so he could help the medic take his vitals. He didn't know why they had to do it in Albie's room and not the infirmary, probably more comforting for the sick man to be in a familiar place other than a stuffy, white and barren area with just enough cots to handle the soldiers.
"Mm.." Albie nods slowly and droops down again, eyes closing with exhaustion. He looked horrible, in all honesty. As said before, he wanted to go home and rest the days away with his family, not on the shitty base where he shivered every night because of his temperature flushes. The medic shines a light in his eyes, making Albie duck away and rub his sensitive eyes, groaning weakly and curling in on himself. "Noo..." He shakes his head, vision all blurry, ears ringing loudly, and his vision cutting off when he faints against the medic.
❝ Albie— ❞
Ghost's eyes widened just slightly, easily catching Albie; moving with his agility to keep him from knocking into the floor or anything, the medic clearly was panicking. Rookie Medic, eh? And noone dared to tell him?? That irked him, but he couldn't take his anger out on the kid.
❝ Oi, go find yer senior. Now, kid. ❞
That's all he had to say to send the inexperienced medic into a flurry, feet pounding against the floor to go find another medic, a more experienced one.
Ghost shifted with Albie in his arms, one arm tucked under his legs, and the other supporting his head and neck. He began to walk to the infirmary, following the medic's steps. His mind was killing him for speaking so much, he usually let his hands do the talking for him - whether thats fighting or using sign language.
Angst open rp
My man is sad, give him some love (maybe reflected off mod who's maybe crying and maybe doing this to themself)
Albie was really off recently, kind of sulking and rarely eating his meals. He's in his barracks at the moment, small room empty as he lies under the covers, making small whimpers and whines of agony. He'd been seen rarely outside of his barracks, then he disappeared into his room. From outside, Albie's whines are softly audible and weak, the man shuffling slowly as he lays on his bed. Inside, the man is curled with his back to the door, shaking and crying with his head shoved into a pillow. He goes silent every few half hours, falling asleep from the exhaustion of crying all the time. So now, a soldier stands at his door, listening inside and trying to talk to the whimpering man.
The steps to the lieutenant's barracks was quick, easily calculated into his plan of the day. His boots barely made any sound against the hard linoleum flooring of the base. His hand reached up, knuckles pressing against the closed door in front of Ghost. Easy there, Soldier. Remember your training. Be nice to others, not too nice - just let them know, subtly, that your looking out for them.
The ice cold water bottle was held in his other hand, a snack - a brand of chips he already forgot the name of - was in his pocket, just waiting to be chewed up. Finally, the knuckle of his pointer finger met the wood. His jaw worked underneath the balaclava, the 'comforting' words dying on the tip of his tongue. He hesitated, before speaking.
❝ Lieutenant. Le' me in. Got somethin' for 'ya. ❞
Ghost immediately winced at how.. cold and distant he sounded. He wasn't good at comforting, but something inside him -even if it was small- was there a little bit of the simon he himself knew a long time ago. thought it had died out, snuffed like an open flame against rain. That piece of him breathed with the body, wishing to comfort others like he wished to be comforted. But no matter, he should just shake it off and not.. get too close. Not too close enough where they can get burned, afterall.
Albie grumbles from inside and shuffles, before a thunk is heard from the door, then a loud and pained groan. "Hrrr... Test the door.." He croaks out, laying on the floor where he had fallen, his legs too weak to hold him up. "Mmm, don't hit me.."
Ghost paused as he heard the audible thunk, before not waiting another minute. The door opened quickly, the hallway's light illuminating on his back, a shadow spreading into the room. Though, he didn't melt into it like he always did. With calculated steps, he made his way to Albie who was on the floor, door closing behind him.
He squatted down to level himself with Albie, staying silent for a moment.
❝ ..You sleepin' on th' floor? ❞
"I fell.." He mumbles with closed eyes, slowly sitting up against the bedside table. "I'm just... Tired. That's all, sir." He tries to wave it off, calling Ghost 'sir' even though their the same rank. "And sick..." He quietly mumbles into his hands while he rubs his nose.
Ghost had to hold himself back from letting an irritated sigh out, placing the water bottle on the nightstand when he stood back up - yet, he crouched once more, hooking his arms underneath Albie to pick him up, just for a moment, placing him back into bed.
❝ Don' call m' sir, Albie. I'll be bringin' ye some food, healthier than these crisps in me pocket. ❞
Hesitation lingered in his bones as he stood there, staring at Albie for a second.
❝ An' drink th' damn water or else I'll make sure 'ya drink it by forcin' 'ye too. ❞
With that, a turn, quick tilt of the door's handle to open, then it closed behind him - his plan set in motion as he walked to the mess hall.
Albie looks horrible, and utterly drained out of his soul. His skin was pale, head burning, and eyes watering from nothing. He wriggles under Ghost's grip, but doesn't protest, just letting it happen. "Mm.." He nods slowly and takes the bottle, sipping from it with a few drops spilling onto his jumper and chin when Ghost is gone. "Mmmfh.." The man groans and puts it down, staring off into the void with a heavy sigh. "I'm so-" He grumbles and lays down, curling under the blankets and doubting his entire life choices that lead to this moment. He should be at home, with his wife and daughter, being tended to by them, and not the ragged soldiers on base because he was too weak to walk to the infirmary.
When Ghost comes back, Albie is curled in a ball under the thin blanket, asleep with about a quarter left of the water in the bottle he was given. The man had fallen asleep, and crying from the looks of it, as Albie's hands were over his face and cheeks stained with red streaks.
Ghost had brought another water bottle, and of course some soup. Not really home-made, but it was a soup, nonetheless. He placed the steaming bowl down on his nightstand, spoon dipped into the liquid food. He stared for a moment, placing down the bottle next to the half drunken one. Hmmn.
He tilted his head, observing. He hesitated for a moment, exhaling a quiet sigh. Pulling off his glove, he placed the backside of his hand on Albie's forehead - best he could do, just to get a feel of his temperature. Grimacing underneath his balaclava when he felt the fever. Definitely a fever, felt like molten rock compared to his own temperature.
❝ Christ. ❞
— is all he said before he removed his hand, putting his glove back on. A grumble escaped him, turning as he left the room to go get a medic, leading them back to the room so they could take care of the clearly sick Lieutenant.
Albie wakes as they come back, slowly sitting up with a croak, turning to face the two and sit on the edge of the bed. The man tries to protest a little, but is too weak and tired to do that, so all that comes out is a grumble and shy hands pushing away. "Nn..No-" He shakes his head and looks to Ghost, pointing to the soup bowl. "Hon.. Honey?"
Everything seemed to freeze for Ghost, hands stilling, before he stared off at Albie, a brow raised underneath his balaclava. Before he decided to break the awkward silence with words, laced with confusion.
❝ What. Say tha' 'gain? ❞
He glanced over at the soup bowl that he had placed down a little bit less than ten minutes ago.
❝ Tha' soup. 'ts chicken somethin'. ❞
Ghost grumbled, shifting slightly so he could help the medic take his vitals. He didn't know why they had to do it in Albie's room and not the infirmary, probably more comforting for the sick man to be in a familiar place other than a stuffy, white and barren area with just enough cots to handle the soldiers.
Angst open rp
My man is sad, give him some love (maybe reflected off mod who's maybe crying and maybe doing this to themself)
Albie was really off recently, kind of sulking and rarely eating his meals. He's in his barracks at the moment, small room empty as he lies under the covers, making small whimpers and whines of agony. He'd been seen rarely outside of his barracks, then he disappeared into his room. From outside, Albie's whines are softly audible and weak, the man shuffling slowly as he lays on his bed. Inside, the man is curled with his back to the door, shaking and crying with his head shoved into a pillow. He goes silent every few half hours, falling asleep from the exhaustion of crying all the time. So now, a soldier stands at his door, listening inside and trying to talk to the whimpering man.
The steps to the lieutenant's barracks was quick, easily calculated into his plan of the day. His boots barely made any sound against the hard linoleum flooring of the base. His hand reached up, knuckles pressing against the closed door in front of Ghost. Easy there, Soldier. Remember your training. Be nice to others, not too nice - just let them know, subtly, that your looking out for them.
The ice cold water bottle was held in his other hand, a snack - a brand of chips he already forgot the name of - was in his pocket, just waiting to be chewed up. Finally, the knuckle of his pointer finger met the wood. His jaw worked underneath the balaclava, the 'comforting' words dying on the tip of his tongue. He hesitated, before speaking.
❝ Lieutenant. Le' me in. Got somethin' for 'ya. ❞
Ghost immediately winced at how.. cold and distant he sounded. He wasn't good at comforting, but something inside him -even if it was small- was there a little bit of the simon he himself knew a long time ago. thought it had died out, snuffed like an open flame against rain. That piece of him breathed with the body, wishing to comfort others like he wished to be comforted. But no matter, he should just shake it off and not.. get too close. Not too close enough where they can get burned, afterall.
Albie grumbles from inside and shuffles, before a thunk is heard from the door, then a loud and pained groan. "Hrrr... Test the door.." He croaks out, laying on the floor where he had fallen, his legs too weak to hold him up. "Mmm, don't hit me.."
Ghost paused as he heard the audible thunk, before not waiting another minute. The door opened quickly, the hallway's light illuminating on his back, a shadow spreading into the room. Though, he didn't melt into it like he always did. With calculated steps, he made his way to Albie who was on the floor, door closing behind him.
He squatted down to level himself with Albie, staying silent for a moment.
❝ ..You sleepin' on th' floor? ❞
"I fell.." He mumbles with closed eyes, slowly sitting up against the bedside table. "I'm just... Tired. That's all, sir." He tries to wave it off, calling Ghost 'sir' even though their the same rank. "And sick..." He quietly mumbles into his hands while he rubs his nose.
Ghost had to hold himself back from letting an irritated sigh out, placing the water bottle on the nightstand when he stood back up - yet, he crouched once more, hooking his arms underneath Albie to pick him up, just for a moment, placing him back into bed.
❝ Don' call m' sir, Albie. I'll be bringin' ye some food, healthier than these crisps in me pocket. ❞
Hesitation lingered in his bones as he stood there, staring at Albie for a second.
❝ An' drink th' damn water or else I'll make sure 'ya drink it by forcin' 'ye too. ❞
With that, a turn, quick tilt of the door's handle to open, then it closed behind him - his plan set in motion as he walked to the mess hall.
Albie looks horrible, and utterly drained out of his soul. His skin was pale, head burning, and eyes watering from nothing. He wriggles under Ghost's grip, but doesn't protest, just letting it happen. "Mm.." He nods slowly and takes the bottle, sipping from it with a few drops spilling onto his jumper and chin when Ghost is gone. "Mmmfh.." The man groans and puts it down, staring off into the void with a heavy sigh. "I'm so-" He grumbles and lays down, curling under the blankets and doubting his entire life choices that lead to this moment. He should be at home, with his wife and daughter, being tended to by them, and not the ragged soldiers on base because he was too weak to walk to the infirmary.
When Ghost comes back, Albie is curled in a ball under the thin blanket, asleep with about a quarter left of the water in the bottle he was given. The man had fallen asleep, and crying from the looks of it, as Albie's hands were over his face and cheeks stained with red streaks.
Ghost had brought another water bottle, and of course some soup. Not really home-made, but it was a soup, nonetheless. He placed the steaming bowl down on his nightstand, spoon dipped into the liquid food. He stared for a moment, placing down the bottle next to the half drunken one. Hmmn.
He tilted his head, observing. He hesitated for a moment, exhaling a quiet sigh. Pulling off his glove, he placed the backside of his hand on Albie's forehead - best he could do, just to get a feel of his temperature. Grimacing underneath his balaclava when he felt the fever. Definitely a fever, felt like molten rock compared to his own temperature.
❝ Christ. ❞
— is all he said before he removed his hand, putting his glove back on. A grumble escaped him, turning as he left the room to go get a medic, leading them back to the room so they could take care of the clearly sick Lieutenant.
Welcome to my hell hole.
———————
Mod is a minor
Even though mod is a minor he’s still perfectly okay with swearing, violence and gore, his favorite type of rp is hurt/comfort.
nsfw dni, proship (darkship) dni, mdni dni, harmful paras dni, homophobes and transphobes DNI.
MY ROLE PLAYS WILL BE INCREDIBLY INACCURATE PLEASE HAVE MERCYY
Tw for violence, blood, illness, mentions of abuse, alcohol, etc.
accessing file…
Angst open rp
My man is sad, give him some love (maybe reflected off mod who's maybe crying and maybe doing this to themself)
Albie was really off recently, kind of sulking and rarely eating his meals. He's in his barracks at the moment, small room empty as he lies under the covers, making small whimpers and whines of agony. He'd been seen rarely outside of his barracks, then he disappeared into his room. From outside, Albie's whines are softly audible and weak, the man shuffling slowly as he lays on his bed. Inside, the man is curled with his back to the door, shaking and crying with his head shoved into a pillow. He goes silent every few half hours, falling asleep from the exhaustion of crying all the time. So now, a soldier stands at his door, listening inside and trying to talk to the whimpering man.
The steps to the lieutenant's barracks was quick, easily calculated into his plan of the day. His boots barely made any sound against the hard linoleum flooring of the base. His hand reached up, knuckles pressing against the closed door in front of Ghost. Easy there, Soldier. Remember your training. Be nice to others, not too nice - just let them know, subtly, that your looking out for them.
The ice cold water bottle was held in his other hand, a snack - a brand of chips he already forgot the name of - was in his pocket, just waiting to be chewed up. Finally, the knuckle of his pointer finger met the wood. His jaw worked underneath the balaclava, the 'comforting' words dying on the tip of his tongue. He hesitated, before speaking.
❝ Lieutenant. Le' me in. Got somethin' for 'ya. ❞
Ghost immediately winced at how.. cold and distant he sounded. He wasn't good at comforting, but something inside him -even if it was small- was there a little bit of the simon he himself knew a long time ago. thought it had died out, snuffed like an open flame against rain. That piece of him breathed with the body, wishing to comfort others like he wished to be comforted. But no matter, he should just shake it off and not.. get too close. Not too close enough where they can get burned, afterall.
Albie grumbles from inside and shuffles, before a thunk is heard from the door, then a loud and pained groan. "Hrrr... Test the door.." He croaks out, laying on the floor where he had fallen, his legs too weak to hold him up. "Mmm, don't hit me.."
Ghost paused as he heard the audible thunk, before not waiting another minute. The door opened quickly, the hallway's light illuminating on his back, a shadow spreading into the room. Though, he didn't melt into it like he always did. With calculated steps, he made his way to Albie who was on the floor, door closing behind him.
He squatted down to level himself with Albie, staying silent for a moment.
❝ ..You sleepin' on th' floor? ❞
"I fell.." He mumbles with closed eyes, slowly sitting up against the bedside table. "I'm just... Tired. That's all, sir." He tries to wave it off, calling Ghost 'sir' even though their the same rank. "And sick..." He quietly mumbles into his hands while he rubs his nose.
Ghost had to hold himself back from letting an irritated sigh out, placing the water bottle on the nightstand when he stood back up - yet, he crouched once more, hooking his arms underneath Albie to pick him up, just for a moment, placing him back into bed.
❝ Don' call m' sir, Albie. I'll be bringin' ye some food, healthier than these crisps in me pocket. ❞
Hesitation lingered in his bones as he stood there, staring at Albie for a second.
❝ An' drink th' damn water or else I'll make sure 'ya drink it by forcin' 'ye too. ❞
With that, a turn, quick tilt of the door's handle to open, then it closed behind him - his plan set in motion as he walked to the mess hall.
Angst open rp
My man is sad, give him some love (maybe reflected off mod who's maybe crying and maybe doing this to themself)
Albie was really off recently, kind of sulking and rarely eating his meals. He's in his barracks at the moment, small room empty as he lies under the covers, making small whimpers and whines of agony. He'd been seen rarely outside of his barracks, then he disappeared into his room. From outside, Albie's whines are softly audible and weak, the man shuffling slowly as he lays on his bed. Inside, the man is curled with his back to the door, shaking and crying with his head shoved into a pillow. He goes silent every few half hours, falling asleep from the exhaustion of crying all the time. So now, a soldier stands at his door, listening inside and trying to talk to the whimpering man.
The steps to the lieutenant's barracks was quick, easily calculated into his plan of the day. His boots barely made any sound against the hard linoleum flooring of the base. His hand reached up, knuckles pressing against the closed door in front of Ghost. Easy there, Soldier. Remember your training. Be nice to others, not too nice - just let them know, subtly, that your looking out for them.
The ice cold water bottle was held in his other hand, a snack - a brand of chips he already forgot the name of - was in his pocket, just waiting to be chewed up. Finally, the knuckle of his pointer finger met the wood. His jaw worked underneath the balaclava, the 'comforting' words dying on the tip of his tongue. He hesitated, before speaking.
❝ Lieutenant. Le' me in. Got somethin' for 'ya. ❞
Ghost immediately winced at how.. cold and distant he sounded. He wasn't good at comforting, but something inside him -even if it was small- was there a little bit of the simon he himself knew a long time ago. thought it had died out, snuffed like an open flame against rain. That piece of him breathed with the body, wishing to comfort others like he wished to be comforted. But no matter, he should just shake it off and not.. get too close. Not too close enough where they can get burned, afterall.
Albie grumbles from inside and shuffles, before a thunk is heard from the door, then a loud and pained groan. "Hrrr... Test the door.." He croaks out, laying on the floor where he had fallen, his legs too weak to hold him up. "Mmm, don't hit me.."
Ghost paused as he heard the audible thunk, before not waiting another minute. The door opened quickly, the hallway's light illuminating on his back, a shadow spreading into the room. Though, he didn't melt into it like he always did. With calculated steps, he made his way to Albie who was on the floor, door closing behind him.
He squatted down to level himself with Albie, staying silent for a moment.
❝ ..You sleepin' on th' floor? ❞
