ghost had just woke up, his large cup of tea in hand, while sitting at the kitchen table in the 141’s base. Half asleep with only his skull balaclava on with his civilian clothes that doubled as pajamas while on base, being a black turtleneck and grey sweatpants.

“I bloody hate mornings.”

he grumbled quietly to himself, taking a swig of his tea. Which he quickly regretted, when soap and {{user}} came bursting in, screaming good morning into a microphone and loudly out a large speaker.