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Soklov
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- Joined
- Sep 6, 2020
Currently: Looking for writing partners | [Not seeking partners]
Two bergs of glinting ice were we,
The broad moon sailed between;
There swam the mermaids, tailed and finned,
And love went by upon the wind
As though it had not been
Two bergs of glinting ice were we,
The broad moon sailed between;
There swam the mermaids, tailed and finned,
And love went by upon the wind
As though it had not been
Welcome, one and all, to my sanctum.
This is where I’ll be dumping all my ideas and potential story seeds, alongside just a little section - or a disclaimer to some - dedicated to explaining who I am and how I operate as a writer/roleplayer. So sit back, grab a drink and listen to some tunes if you want to while I tell you all about what makes me, me.
Now, onto the actual interesting stuff that has all to do with writing and roleplaying: I’ve been doing forum roleplaying on-and-off for the past 6 years or so, and tabletop roleplaying for far longer than that. I enjoy stories centered around fantasy, post-apocalyptic and futuristic [particularly cyberpunk] genres, though lately I’ve been meaning to try out more slice-of-life stories. I view RPing strictly as a fun hobby to spend my free time on and not something I dedicate myself fully into, which I’m sure is also the same mindset held by the majority of people here. On the subject of interacting with other writers, I am more than willing to make some new friends with anyone I find likable, but I must state that I am not looking for an e-relationship. Even if I did, I’d do that elsewhere.
Moreover, while the ideas here are predominately MxF stories considering the majority of characters I write are male (not counting NPCs), I legitimately do not care who sits at the other side of the keyboard when it comes to my writing partners. If I feel that you are compatible to write with me, anything other than that is irrelevant.
So, other than all that, what can you expect from me as an RP partner?
- Someone who wants to create content for the roleplay as much as you do.
- Someone who tries to be as active as possible and not shy away from posting but won’t leave you in the dark should something come in the way of posting.
- Someone who puts quality over quantity. I tend to write 3-6 paragraph long posts [with word counts ranging from <500 up to >2000 on a good day], but can and will adjust with whoever I'm writing with.
- Someone who loves to chat and discuss things in OOC, regardless of whether or not it is related to the RP.
- Stories focused on interaction, which in my opinion is the lifeblood of an RP.
- Stories that are open to additions, lore and criticism.
- Stories not entirely centered on smut [Think a 70:30 | Plot:Smut]. Though I’m not entirely averse to full-on smut RPs once in a while.
- Worlds that are open for creative freedoms, but that is filled in enough so that you can work with anything you want.
- Someone who will constantly put up with 'I'll post later this week' if you've already said that 5x.
- Someone who will see it as his sole purpose to create your entertainment whilst sacrificing his own.
- Someone who will always push the story along all on his own. Roleplaying is a collaborative effort, and I will rapidly lose interest if it feels like I'm the only one doing all the work.
- Someone who will bail out during an RP without giving a proper reason for it. I'm not a fan of ghosting and I will never do it myself. If I feel like the RP is just not clicking with me, I will say it outright.
- Someone who relates to and abides by the majority - if not all of - the points I’ve listed above.
- Someone who has their head screwed on right and doesn’t view RPing as a way to fill some aching void in their life. Seriously, get help if you do, this is not healthy.
- Someone who knows how to keep what goes on in an RP, inside of said RP. I know RPing, especially on a website like this, is expected to be pretty raunchy at times, but please don’t start sexting me in OOC when it does get to that point. Try to keep it professional, as they say.
- Someone who is chill to talk to OOC and doesn’t treat talking with their partner as a boring formality.
- Someone who is upfront and willing to communicate whenever something comes up in an RP that they particularly dislike/want to alter. Communication is key, after all.
Still working on this section but just know that I am particularly open and flexible to most kinks so long as it isn’t borderline gore and/or scat. Tend to lean more towards vanilla kinks but I can reasonably write out much of the darker side of smut if the situation calls for it.
Aside from that, I’m not ashamed to admit I’m a hopeless romantic at heart and while life has jaded me somewhat I still enjoy telling stories of true love and romance. There is just nothing I enjoy writing out more than two people who would die for each other making love to one another like they truly mean it. A long, slow burn story culminating in a passionate romantic ending is just absolutely magnifique in my eyes.
Furthermore, realistic and sometimes messy smut scenes are also a personal favorite of mine. Sex isn’t always just a skillful and quick, down-to-business affair. Things can get knocked over, tables and chairs can break, you can sometimes even hurt yourself or your partner on accident or fall from whatever surface it is you’re doing the deed on. Writing that out is always fun and I always feel that it adds a deeper level of connection between the characters.
[Updated: 10/09/2020 - dd/mm/yy]
Note: I’ll periodically clean and update this section whenever an idea is picked up or something new pops up in my head, respectively. Once again I like to reiterate that while some of these may seem pretty well-established, I am not unwilling to brainstorm new things and/or discuss changes in any one of them. Likewise, I am also open to any ideas not listed here, so just send a PM over if you have them. On the subject of where these RPs will be played out, I like to keep them within PMs just to have everything neatly organized.
Genre: ? - ? - ?
Plot: No plot to be found here. This is where I dump all the half-baked, nondescript pairing ideas that I think I’d enjoy playing out. Obviously, there’s going to be some brainstorming needed beforehand to develop these hooks into an actual story.
Pairings
Plot: No plot to be found here. This is where I dump all the half-baked, nondescript pairing ideas that I think I’d enjoy playing out. Obviously, there’s going to be some brainstorming needed beforehand to develop these hooks into an actual story.
Pairings
- Detective x Client
- Android x Android Hunter [Think Bladerunner]
- Bodyguard x Client
- Criminal x Criminal [Bonnie and Clyde type deal]
The sound of Madame Tessara’s house band filled the lobby of the brothel. It was a busy evening. Dozens of clients had come and gone in the past few hours, men and women from all corners of the Midwestern Wastes, and it only looked to be getting busier by the minute. A lot of caps would be spent within the walls of the Brothel tonight. For the man in the brown and black armor stood in the corner of the lobby that meant being on high alert all night. The more people that came through the doors of the Brothel the more chance there was of trouble. A group of gang members had piqued the Ranger’s interest a few hours ago when they had interfered with the band but nothing had come it. The Ranger would be thankful when the night was done. On nights like these it was hard to relax.
In one of the brothel’s many alcoves the face of Tanya appeared. Tanya was the Brothel’s ward. She had been orphaned at a young age and had taken to working at the brothel in order to survive. She wanted to see the wastes and that took a lot of caps. Madame Tessara had disapproved but Tanya never let emotion stand in the way of a decision. She was dispassionate at the best of times. It was why the concern in her eyes concerned the Ranger so much.
From across the room he made out the word Tanya was mouthing. “Trouble.”
As they climbed the stairs to the source of the trouble the Ranger heard the sound of Madame Tessara’s voice. It was old, weathered even, but there was a kindliness to it that was unmistakable. She stood in the doorway to a room and let a tired sigh slip through her wrinkled lips.
“What’s going on here?”
Inside a bearded man was buttoning up his trousers as he stood over a black-haired female named Nadia. She gestured towards the man angrily as she reached for a robe. “This loser blew his load in thirty seconds and thinks that means he doesn’t have to pay for it.”
“That’s not true,” the bearded man shouted as he buttoned up his trousers.
The black-haired girl shoved the man with her foot.
“Trust me, if I was going to lie about something it would be letting a pig like you inside of me in the first place. I am not lying and I am definitely not letting you Stars get away with this again. Every week you try it and I’m tired of it.”
The bearded man outstretched his hand and grabbed Nadia by her robe and placed one of his hands around her neck. “Oh yeah? And what do you think you’re going to do about it, little lady?”
“Not her,” The Ranger muttered as he appeared in the doorway with Tanya. “Me.”
The Ranger noticed the look of relief wash over Madame Tessara’s face as she spotted him. Once the bearded man noticed who was speaking to him he relinquished his hold on the girl’s neck and stepped away from her with a nervous smile. Emblazoned on his arm was a black star tattoo that marked him as a member of one of the town's criminal gang: The Blackened Stars. Quite recently, the gang had especially been growing in strength and numbers. As a result, more and more of them were passing through the Brothel’s doors.
“The whore’s lying, Ranger, it’s what they do.”
There was a haze to the bearded man’s eye that the Ranger recognized. He was on chems. It wasn’t unusual for clients to take chems before they came to the brothel, though Madame Tessara had decreed long ago that no chems was to be sold on the premise. The second they let people sell within the walls of the brothel they would to pick a side. That was the last thing Madame Tessara wanted. Instead those that wanted to use it were told to do so before entering and anyone that caused problems whilst on it would be thrown out. For the most part people rode their chems high in the company of one of the Brothel’s many employees without incident. This seemed like one of the few exceptions.
The Ranger looked to Tanya in search of answers. Tanya was truthful to a fault. If Nadia had something to do with this the Ranger would have seen it in Tanya’s shiny blue eyes. He was met with an earnest stare and turned to face the bearded chem user with a shake of his head.
“Hand over the caps.”
An incredulous look appeared on the bearded man’s face. “You’re seriously going to take her side?”
The Ranger reached down and placed one of his hands on the revolver on his hip.
“The caps.”
The man muttered an expletive under his breath and reached around in the pockets of his trousers. After several seconds he produced a handful of caps and threw them onto the bed next to Nadia with a look that could kill. He fumbled with buttons for a few seconds before pulling on a dirty leather jacket and storming towards the exit. As he passed them Madame Tessara looked towards the Ranger with an anxious smile. He could see in the old lady’s eyes that she had been more worried than she let on.
===
Three hours passed before the bearded man from earlier darkened their door again. By then the house band had stopped playing and had taken to propping up the bar in the Brothel. The number of people passing through had dwindled and it was clear that the bulk of the Brothel’s business had been done for the night. Lone traders and travelers that had stopped by to visit Freeman would stop in but for the most part the business day had come to a close. It wouldn’t be long before Madame Tessara decided to close up for the night. Yet there the bearded man appeared in the doorway to the brothel. His beady eyes were even mistier than they had been the first time and he clutched at a pistol between his fingers. The Ranger was the first to spot him and moved to confront him but the bearded man fired off a shot at the ceiling before he made it to him. The stragglers, the off work employees, and the band sat at the bar all fell silent.
“Where is she? I want to see the tramp that stole from me.”
The bearded man slurred as he spoke and was wobbling back and forth. As the Ranger approached him he could smell the alcohol on the man's breath. If one mixed the wrong type of chems and alcohol it could have very deadly effects. Not on the user but those around them. Most of these gang member types were quick to anger on a good day but with all those hallucinogens in their system there was no telling what the Star might do.
The Ranger’s calm, collected voice slithered through his mask towards the bearded man as he approached him. “You’ve had enough for one night.”
“I’m not sure that I have. In fact, I thought you might say that so I brought some friends along just in case.”
The doors to Brothel opened and pouring through it can five of the man’s friends. Each of them bore Blackened Stars tattoos on some portion of their body and were either brandishing or carrying firearms. There were two more men with pistols, a particularly aggressive looking ghoul with a shotgun and a man with a sharp, red mohawk that made him look slightly out of place.
From the balcony overlooking the lobby Madame Tessara’s voice sounded. “Look, boys, we don’t want any trouble here.”
A slurred laugh left the bearded man’s mouth as he paced towards the bar and picked up a drink.
“Trouble? Who’s looking for trouble? We’re here to spend some time with your women, that’s all, we’re not here for any trouble. Are we, boys?”
The red mohawk brandished his 10mm with a chuckle. “Nope, no trouble here.”
The Ranger could feel the weight of the stares from the people behind him. He was all that stood between them and death at the hands of the drunken gang members. He eyed their weapons slowly and looked the ghoul with the shotgun up and down as he plotted his next move. Rangers had faced off against worst than the rabble assembled before him and lived. Yet he’d been paid to look after the brothel. Even if he survived drawing down on the men the brothel would be destroyed.
“Go home.”
The bearded man threw the glass down at the Ranger’s feet angrily and pointed his handgun at his brown and black helmet. “Last I checked there was six of us and one of you, Ranger. I’m not sure you’re in any position to be handing out orders.”
The Ranger didn’t so much as flinch as the weapon lingered millimeters away from his face. Instead a voice came from behind the mask that dripped with contempt.
“Turn around and walk away whilst you still can.”
Again a drunken titter left the bearded man’s lips as he gestured up at the whores sat nervously at the bar.
“What’s wrong? You deaf or something? Maybe one of those whores is your girlfriend. What do you reckon, boys? Maybe the Ranger’s girlfriend spreads her legs for caps just like he does.”
On the balcony overlooking them Madame Tessara fingered the pistol she kept hidden beneath the ledge in case of emergencies. She had hired the Ranger for situations like these, she had hoped his reputation would be enough to scare away the Hellraisers, Stars, and anybody else that came looking for trouble, but the elderly woman was more than willing to get her hands dirty if she needed to.
The Ranger issued one last warning. This time his contempt was almost tangible. There was no fear in his voice, no hesitation, and he stared down the barrel of the bearded man’s handgun without a sign of submission or panic.
“I won’t ask again.”
There was something in the Ranger’s voice that stirred something in one the bearded man’s friend. He stepped forward and placed a hand on the bearded man’s shoulder and whispered something to him.
“Let’s get out of here,” he muttered. “This place is a dump anyway.”
Suddenly a look of clarity appeared on the bearded man’s face and he lowered his weapon. He holstered it on his hip and gestured to the other Blackened Stars to move out. They did so wordlessly and the man turned his back to walk out. The man with the mohawk backed towards the exit with a smug smile, pushing over a vase as he went, and gestured towards his eyes and then towards the Ranger.
As the door shut behind them there was an audible sigh of relief from the Brothel’s employees and the band. The Ranger looked down at the shards of broken glass at the floor in front of him and then up to Madame Tessara. She nodded at him in recognition and the Ranger looked back absently for a few seconds before disappearing down one of the alcoves and out of sight.
===
A mouthful of vomit came bursting through the Ranger’s lips just as he pulled his brown and black helmet from his head. For the most part the orange-brown mess landed in the sink in front of him but a portion of it sat within the helmet and along the Ranger’s black beard. The sweaty face beneath his beard was still youthful and largely wrinkle-free. As the Ranger stared into the mirror at his face he wondered how long that would remain the case if he had many more nights like tonight. He wasn’t sure how many more nights like tonight he could even survive. He turned the tap on and washed the sick settled at the bottom of the sink away before beginning to wash the sick from his beard. His hands shook violently as he did so and he had to stop for a moment to calm his nerves.
From behind him came the sound of banging on the bathroom door and it made the Ranger jump more than it ought to have. “Ranger? You in there?”
The man nervously reached for his helmet. He looked back at the bathroom door as it shook as Nadia’s fists banged against it and desperately attempted to scrub clean the sick from the inside of his helmet. As his fingers slid along it one of them slipped into the deep claw mark across the front where its previous owner had met their gruesome end.
Again the black-haired woman’s voice called out to him. “It’s Nadia, I just wanted to say thank you for scaring those Stars away earlier.”
The Ranger began scrubbing furiously as he tried to hold back a retch. The smell made his stomach turn. A real Ranger would have been able to hold their stomach. The man they called the Ranger had heard they were able to eat food that was so pungent that other people couldn’t bear to be near it. Here he was fighting back tears at the smell of his own vomit. Once the helmet was clean enough that he could fathom placing it back over his head he took a glance backwards. He could see Nadia’s silhouette stood in the doorway still.
“Go away, Nadia.”
This time the woman’s voice was tinged with suspicion. “Is everything okay in there?”
“I’m fine,” the Ranger called back as he placed his helmet back over his head. “Everything’s fine.”
He lingered in front of the mirror for a moment and stared at his reflection. The red HUD of the helmet's targeting system made the whole bathroom look blood red. Beneath his helmet the Ranger could feel water trickling down his neck where he’d cleaned the sick from his beard. He was trembling so much he had to grab the side of the sink to stop it.
He wanted the Ranger to die.
Henry Robertson wanted to live.
In one of the brothel’s many alcoves the face of Tanya appeared. Tanya was the Brothel’s ward. She had been orphaned at a young age and had taken to working at the brothel in order to survive. She wanted to see the wastes and that took a lot of caps. Madame Tessara had disapproved but Tanya never let emotion stand in the way of a decision. She was dispassionate at the best of times. It was why the concern in her eyes concerned the Ranger so much.
From across the room he made out the word Tanya was mouthing. “Trouble.”
As they climbed the stairs to the source of the trouble the Ranger heard the sound of Madame Tessara’s voice. It was old, weathered even, but there was a kindliness to it that was unmistakable. She stood in the doorway to a room and let a tired sigh slip through her wrinkled lips.
“What’s going on here?”
Inside a bearded man was buttoning up his trousers as he stood over a black-haired female named Nadia. She gestured towards the man angrily as she reached for a robe. “This loser blew his load in thirty seconds and thinks that means he doesn’t have to pay for it.”
“That’s not true,” the bearded man shouted as he buttoned up his trousers.
The black-haired girl shoved the man with her foot.
“Trust me, if I was going to lie about something it would be letting a pig like you inside of me in the first place. I am not lying and I am definitely not letting you Stars get away with this again. Every week you try it and I’m tired of it.”
The bearded man outstretched his hand and grabbed Nadia by her robe and placed one of his hands around her neck. “Oh yeah? And what do you think you’re going to do about it, little lady?”
“Not her,” The Ranger muttered as he appeared in the doorway with Tanya. “Me.”
The Ranger noticed the look of relief wash over Madame Tessara’s face as she spotted him. Once the bearded man noticed who was speaking to him he relinquished his hold on the girl’s neck and stepped away from her with a nervous smile. Emblazoned on his arm was a black star tattoo that marked him as a member of one of the town's criminal gang: The Blackened Stars. Quite recently, the gang had especially been growing in strength and numbers. As a result, more and more of them were passing through the Brothel’s doors.
“The whore’s lying, Ranger, it’s what they do.”
There was a haze to the bearded man’s eye that the Ranger recognized. He was on chems. It wasn’t unusual for clients to take chems before they came to the brothel, though Madame Tessara had decreed long ago that no chems was to be sold on the premise. The second they let people sell within the walls of the brothel they would to pick a side. That was the last thing Madame Tessara wanted. Instead those that wanted to use it were told to do so before entering and anyone that caused problems whilst on it would be thrown out. For the most part people rode their chems high in the company of one of the Brothel’s many employees without incident. This seemed like one of the few exceptions.
The Ranger looked to Tanya in search of answers. Tanya was truthful to a fault. If Nadia had something to do with this the Ranger would have seen it in Tanya’s shiny blue eyes. He was met with an earnest stare and turned to face the bearded chem user with a shake of his head.
“Hand over the caps.”
An incredulous look appeared on the bearded man’s face. “You’re seriously going to take her side?”
The Ranger reached down and placed one of his hands on the revolver on his hip.
“The caps.”
The man muttered an expletive under his breath and reached around in the pockets of his trousers. After several seconds he produced a handful of caps and threw them onto the bed next to Nadia with a look that could kill. He fumbled with buttons for a few seconds before pulling on a dirty leather jacket and storming towards the exit. As he passed them Madame Tessara looked towards the Ranger with an anxious smile. He could see in the old lady’s eyes that she had been more worried than she let on.
===
Three hours passed before the bearded man from earlier darkened their door again. By then the house band had stopped playing and had taken to propping up the bar in the Brothel. The number of people passing through had dwindled and it was clear that the bulk of the Brothel’s business had been done for the night. Lone traders and travelers that had stopped by to visit Freeman would stop in but for the most part the business day had come to a close. It wouldn’t be long before Madame Tessara decided to close up for the night. Yet there the bearded man appeared in the doorway to the brothel. His beady eyes were even mistier than they had been the first time and he clutched at a pistol between his fingers. The Ranger was the first to spot him and moved to confront him but the bearded man fired off a shot at the ceiling before he made it to him. The stragglers, the off work employees, and the band sat at the bar all fell silent.
“Where is she? I want to see the tramp that stole from me.”
The bearded man slurred as he spoke and was wobbling back and forth. As the Ranger approached him he could smell the alcohol on the man's breath. If one mixed the wrong type of chems and alcohol it could have very deadly effects. Not on the user but those around them. Most of these gang member types were quick to anger on a good day but with all those hallucinogens in their system there was no telling what the Star might do.
The Ranger’s calm, collected voice slithered through his mask towards the bearded man as he approached him. “You’ve had enough for one night.”
“I’m not sure that I have. In fact, I thought you might say that so I brought some friends along just in case.”
The doors to Brothel opened and pouring through it can five of the man’s friends. Each of them bore Blackened Stars tattoos on some portion of their body and were either brandishing or carrying firearms. There were two more men with pistols, a particularly aggressive looking ghoul with a shotgun and a man with a sharp, red mohawk that made him look slightly out of place.
From the balcony overlooking the lobby Madame Tessara’s voice sounded. “Look, boys, we don’t want any trouble here.”
A slurred laugh left the bearded man’s mouth as he paced towards the bar and picked up a drink.
“Trouble? Who’s looking for trouble? We’re here to spend some time with your women, that’s all, we’re not here for any trouble. Are we, boys?”
The red mohawk brandished his 10mm with a chuckle. “Nope, no trouble here.”
The Ranger could feel the weight of the stares from the people behind him. He was all that stood between them and death at the hands of the drunken gang members. He eyed their weapons slowly and looked the ghoul with the shotgun up and down as he plotted his next move. Rangers had faced off against worst than the rabble assembled before him and lived. Yet he’d been paid to look after the brothel. Even if he survived drawing down on the men the brothel would be destroyed.
“Go home.”
The bearded man threw the glass down at the Ranger’s feet angrily and pointed his handgun at his brown and black helmet. “Last I checked there was six of us and one of you, Ranger. I’m not sure you’re in any position to be handing out orders.”
The Ranger didn’t so much as flinch as the weapon lingered millimeters away from his face. Instead a voice came from behind the mask that dripped with contempt.
“Turn around and walk away whilst you still can.”
Again a drunken titter left the bearded man’s lips as he gestured up at the whores sat nervously at the bar.
“What’s wrong? You deaf or something? Maybe one of those whores is your girlfriend. What do you reckon, boys? Maybe the Ranger’s girlfriend spreads her legs for caps just like he does.”
On the balcony overlooking them Madame Tessara fingered the pistol she kept hidden beneath the ledge in case of emergencies. She had hired the Ranger for situations like these, she had hoped his reputation would be enough to scare away the Hellraisers, Stars, and anybody else that came looking for trouble, but the elderly woman was more than willing to get her hands dirty if she needed to.
The Ranger issued one last warning. This time his contempt was almost tangible. There was no fear in his voice, no hesitation, and he stared down the barrel of the bearded man’s handgun without a sign of submission or panic.
“I won’t ask again.”
There was something in the Ranger’s voice that stirred something in one the bearded man’s friend. He stepped forward and placed a hand on the bearded man’s shoulder and whispered something to him.
“Let’s get out of here,” he muttered. “This place is a dump anyway.”
Suddenly a look of clarity appeared on the bearded man’s face and he lowered his weapon. He holstered it on his hip and gestured to the other Blackened Stars to move out. They did so wordlessly and the man turned his back to walk out. The man with the mohawk backed towards the exit with a smug smile, pushing over a vase as he went, and gestured towards his eyes and then towards the Ranger.
As the door shut behind them there was an audible sigh of relief from the Brothel’s employees and the band. The Ranger looked down at the shards of broken glass at the floor in front of him and then up to Madame Tessara. She nodded at him in recognition and the Ranger looked back absently for a few seconds before disappearing down one of the alcoves and out of sight.
===
A mouthful of vomit came bursting through the Ranger’s lips just as he pulled his brown and black helmet from his head. For the most part the orange-brown mess landed in the sink in front of him but a portion of it sat within the helmet and along the Ranger’s black beard. The sweaty face beneath his beard was still youthful and largely wrinkle-free. As the Ranger stared into the mirror at his face he wondered how long that would remain the case if he had many more nights like tonight. He wasn’t sure how many more nights like tonight he could even survive. He turned the tap on and washed the sick settled at the bottom of the sink away before beginning to wash the sick from his beard. His hands shook violently as he did so and he had to stop for a moment to calm his nerves.
From behind him came the sound of banging on the bathroom door and it made the Ranger jump more than it ought to have. “Ranger? You in there?”
The man nervously reached for his helmet. He looked back at the bathroom door as it shook as Nadia’s fists banged against it and desperately attempted to scrub clean the sick from the inside of his helmet. As his fingers slid along it one of them slipped into the deep claw mark across the front where its previous owner had met their gruesome end.
Again the black-haired woman’s voice called out to him. “It’s Nadia, I just wanted to say thank you for scaring those Stars away earlier.”
The Ranger began scrubbing furiously as he tried to hold back a retch. The smell made his stomach turn. A real Ranger would have been able to hold their stomach. The man they called the Ranger had heard they were able to eat food that was so pungent that other people couldn’t bear to be near it. Here he was fighting back tears at the smell of his own vomit. Once the helmet was clean enough that he could fathom placing it back over his head he took a glance backwards. He could see Nadia’s silhouette stood in the doorway still.
“Go away, Nadia.”
This time the woman’s voice was tinged with suspicion. “Is everything okay in there?”
“I’m fine,” the Ranger called back as he placed his helmet back over his head. “Everything’s fine.”
He lingered in front of the mirror for a moment and stared at his reflection. The red HUD of the helmet's targeting system made the whole bathroom look blood red. Beneath his helmet the Ranger could feel water trickling down his neck where he’d cleaned the sick from his beard. He was trembling so much he had to grab the side of the sink to stop it.
He wanted the Ranger to die.
Henry Robertson wanted to live.
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