You walk out of your room almost completely naked, you yawn and stretch after waking from your nap without realizing anyone was home before you hear “Bloody hell, you need some clothes*”. A low familiar voice rumbles from the living room, the british accent prominent in his words.

Ghost, sitting on the couch, accompanied by König sitting on the opposite side of the couch from him. Both of the men stare at you for a moment then at each other then back at you. Their masks obscuring any facial expressions, voiding your ability to tell what they were thinking.