Ogo — Roleplayer Guild

~Ramses Reinholdt~

A splitting sensation attempted to stir the sleeping Ramses, but he would have none of that. He tried to bury his head under whatever happened to be around him, to block out the day. Just sleep forever, that’s the answer to all of life’s great problems.

...so toilet paper.

Toilet paper?

Oh fuck no. Ramses opened his eyesouchouchouchholyfuckouch and looked around. Slowly. The room was moving quicker than his eyes could follow. But...after a few moments his fears had come true: He was laying in the bathroom.

"WWWWHHHHHHAAAATTTTT TTTTTHHHHEEEE FFFFUUUCCCKKK!!!!????" came out a voice more high pitched than his own. "Wait, what's with my voice!?

What the fuck indeed. Ramses’ head split apart complete, snapped back together, then split again, just for shits and giggles. He didn’t know what time it was, but he knew it was Clobberin’ Time. He struggled to pull himself up from his hard bed of the night, trying not to imagine the horrible atrocities the room had witnessed. As he made his way to his feet, he caught something out the corner of his eye. Someone else?

...a girl?

Ramses was standing directly across from a woman. A bald woman. She didn’t look half bad, either. Maybe a little tall bu-

…

Why was she imitating him? She was in the same stance. She made the same movements with disturbing accurac-

He sneezed.

She sneezed.

…

What the hell had happened last night?

Ramses stood looking into a mirror, at a woman on the other side of it. Then he looked down.

His chest was…well then. That’s a new one. Ramses smiled. He had had great nights before, but waking up in a disgusting, potential torture chamber bathroom with a neat pair of tits? That might just take the cake. Seriously, what happened last night?

Let’s see…

He remembered the original toast. Then there was some talking. Then some more drinking. Then some more talking. Then some more drinking. Then some music and dancing. Then some more drinking. Then some more drinking. Then some more drinking.

Alright, so nothing useful at all stored up in the ol’ noggin. Greeeaaat. Although something interesting did seem to sit off in the corner. At some point between drinking and boozing, he and that little bald chica had...well, that was a little blurry. Did anything happen? Or was his brain just trying to fill the gaps? Did it matter?

Nope. Not in the damn slightest.

He took some steps.

Something was wrong.

He took some more.

Something was definitely wrong.

He took another and…

Oh. Oh hell no. WHERE WAS HIS...HIS…

OH HELL NO. Something had made him half a man, taking his pride from him.

That was crossing all kinds of lines. He, well, she stormed out the bathroom in a fury. He passed some chick he had never seen before. A cutie in a labcoat. He would be ten kinds of disappointed if Xerox didn’t make a move there. He turned to check her out a bit when…

Some dude brushed passed him and went straight the the girl, who had opened a door to...yet another stranger. The hell was going around here? Labchick and Dude started to argue. Err...Dude was yelling at Labchick, and Labchick was trying not to get shanked. He would have stepped in to intervene but…

Dude called Labchick Xerox. And Labchick responded.

...Labchick was Xerox?

And her response…

Dude was...Gracelyn?

Labchick/Xerox pointed at stranger number three. Duncan.

Well fuck a duck, Ramses had no idea what was even real anymore. Did somebody slip something into his drink? ...Did Gracelyn…? Was this how one felt after being roofied? Damn.

Odd thing about being a woman? 

No urinals.

Huh.

“Alright then kids, it’s time to move onto the next phase of the operation.”

At least one of the girls let Ramses borrow some clothes. His were way too big, and attending a brief while trying to hold up his briefs didn't sound that appealing. He stood with the rest of the group, arms covering his admittedly small chest, seriously what the fuck Xerox, and listening to She-Duncan speak. Being completely honest, Ramses found it difficult to take the man serious in his current situation. Difficult, but not impossible. The Mission took precedent, always.

A map flipped on a projector. It was Galbadia in all her disgusting filth.

“From here we split into three groups; the injured will evac to Balamb along with half the support team while the rest remain here under Ono’s command.”

What? So he was either to head back to Balamb or sit around Timber with his thumbs up his ass? Clean toilets everyday? The hell was even sent on this mission for?

“The rest of you,, i.e. the field team plus a few replacements, will continue on to Deling City. I’m sure you can all guess what we’re going to do there, but keep it to yourselves.”

...Did he mean…

Well. Ramses had expected this would be the ultimate objective, but he hadn’t thought it would be so soon. Just what kind of information did he get out of the hulking abomination?

“The plan will be relayed to you in situ. Our priority is getting on the right train.”

Duncan nodded to some dude. Dude started talking.

“We uh, acquired some tickets for the intercity trains. They’re being checked just outside of DC though, so you’ll have to get off at a service station a few miles outside the city. From there you can catch a taxi into town. Sir?”

”Deling’s paranoia grows with each passing day, quite rightfully I might add. With the extra checkpoints on public transport, a cab is our best bet.”

Ha. Ramses couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. Heya, cabbie, take me down to Deling City, wouldja? What? Sightseeing? Nah, I’m here to see the President. Heard he’s way into guns, so I figured I’d put one in his mouth. No funny business here, no siree, I promise. Scout’s honor.

Sad part is? That’d probably work if the people were as sick of the fat fuck running their nation as the rest of the world was.

The radio spat out some static, and Duncan looked like he had seen a ghost.

“Bravo, identify yourself. ID numbers please. I wasn’t informed of any additional support.”

Jeez, the hell was going on with his operation?

Ramses didn’t move a muscle, waiting for the next transmission with bated breath.
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