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Her head swims, when she opens her eyes. It’s like she can’t exactly focus on anything, her gaze shifting without her control, & when she makes a huff of frustration, it sounds alien, in a way she doesn’t understand. It takes her more than a few moments to gather herself, blinking a few times, & she finds herself in what’s probably a med ward, an uncomfortable bed, scratchy sheets, & the unmistakable scent of a hospital- not quite a sterile cleaning solution scent, but somewhat old.
She slips the shitty blanket down a little, to better position herself to sit up, & she spies something glinting, & her gaze is drawn to it. The hospital shirt she’s clothed in is a little too big for her, sleeves going down to her elbows, & the exposed skin isn’t really. . . skin. Her left arm (as much as she can see of it), elbow to fingertips, is gleaming metal. It’s a dark metal, & she forgets her previous ambitions of sitting up, drawing her right hand up, the pads of her flesh fingers ghosting over the smooth metal, & she’s curious when she realizes she can feel in her left arm- it was clearly high quality. She briefly wondered if any of the rest of her body happened to be made of the same metal, & a second thought quickly washed over that, when she thought about how she wanted to pry open her arm & take some tools to it, figure out how it worked- she had a knack for mechanics, right?
She gets confused, because she’s not quite sure about herself but before she could think about it more, figure it out, access her memory, she’s got visitors.
Two men enter the room, both dressed in grey uniforms. Frankly, she thinks the uniforms are ugly. One’s carrying a clipboard, & the other’s carrying himself as if he’s the most pompous bastard in the room. She thinks she doesn’t like him very much.
“Good morning, Agent, how are you feeling?” Clipboard asks, lifting a pen to his paper, & she gives it a moment of thought.
“Alright,” She says, & she’s a little surprised her throat isn’t dry, considering the fact she’d like. . . just woken up, hadn’t she?
“We’re just going to go through a few questions, if that’s alright with you?” He asks, & she nods.
“Agent, what is your name?”
“It’s. . .” She pauses, because she isn’t sure. Pompous bastard comes to her rescue, though.
“Allison,” He says, & it clicks. Allison nods.
“Allison,” She echoes, & then her last name comes to her. “. . .Lasky.”
Pompous bastard gives her a bit of a glare from behind his stupid glasses, & she was right about before. She’s got. . . some sort of amnesia, probably, & she wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out she hated this guy before whatever accident happened.
Clipboard notes it, & turns his attention back to her. “Do you remember anything, Agent?”
“Not necessarily, no.” She says honestly, & the air in the room changes, & she’s not sure why or how but it’s like she’d just given the correct answer.
“What do you remember, Allison?” He asks, & his tone of voice, like before, makes her feel a little gross. Neither of the men have good vibes, she thinks.
“My name. My age. My rank. Basic stuff, nothing from recently.” She says easily, & Clipboard nods.
“In that case, you are an agent of Project Freelancer. Allison, you were just recruited a few days ago. I’m the Counselor, & this is the Director. There was an accident in the field before you arrived,” He says, & she nods. That makes sense.
“Since you’ve likely forgotten, there’s certain. . . rules, in this elite program. Everyone has a codename, & you, are Agent Texas.” It’s fitting, for whatever reason. She thinks she likes the name.
“Okay.”
“Do you have any questions, Texas?” The Director speaks up, finally, & she takes a moment to think.
“Did I get the arm,” She raises her left arm while she’s speaking, “from this accident?”
“No,” His tone is forced. “You’ve had it since before you entered the project.”
“Agent Texas, we must be going now. We’ll send in your doctor, to finish up some paperwork & get you out of the ward,” The Counselor says, & bids her farewell.
Texas can feel the Director’s eyes on her even after the two leave, & it’s uncomfortable. She doesn’t like either of them.
She gets a little alone time, & when her doctor walks in, she’s a little startled by the energy of the entry. The doctor’s in armor, white with purple trim, but her helmet is off, & the smile on her face makes Tex’s heart race. Like the trim of her armor, the doctor’s hair is purple, short & a little messy, curly as all hell, & Tex flushes. “Hello!” The doctor says, voice cheerful, & Tex says it back.
The meeting is fairly standard, questions about her health & such, finding that more than just her arm is metal, her left leg & more than a little bit of her also being synthetic, & Tex stumbled a little over her words when she focused a bit too much on the doctor’s smile, & it’s only towards the end when she catches her name.
“What’s your name, again?” Tex huffs, the doctor having made her get up from the bed & move around some, & Tex had felt weird moving around, a little breathless.
“Its Doctor Emily Grey,” Grey says, marking something on a digital tablet, halfway across the room, sitting on a stool, & some of her purple hair falls into her face, & Tex makes herself look away, lest she have any ideas.
It’s silent for a moment, & before Tex could think of anything else to say, Grey spoke up.
“Well, alright Texas, we’re done for today! Would you like me to send someone to bring you your armor, or perhaps some other clothing that fits you?” She asked, & Tex. . . wasn’t sure, honestly. Tex didn't know exactly what someone else fetching her clothing entailed, so, armor it was.
“Armor, please.” There was nothing wrong with taking the easy route.
“I’ll be right back then,” Grey says with a wink, & Tex just nods, & she’s left in the room alone. There’s not much to do, & she ends up just sitting down on the bed to wait. Tex drums her fingers on the side of the hospital bed, & her metal fingers make a pleasant noise when they collide with the frame.
Grey returns with someone else in tow, both of them with their arms full of armor. They unceremoniously dump it on the bed, next to Tex, & Grey pulls the other person out of the room to give Tex privacy while putting on the armor. When the door closes with a click, Tex lets her hands wander over the metal, & she’s not surprised at how comfortable she feels when she starts to maneuver herself into the bodysuit, her armor’s like a second skin, & once she’s done getting it all on, just her helmet left in her hands, she thinks about how it’s the same color as her arm.
Her helmet slides on easily, armor powering up & her HUD lighting up in a lavender color, helpfully informing her of exactly what room she was, the floorplans in the bottom right corner of her HUD telling her she was currently in the medical ward of the Mother of Invention. Tex finds it easy to manipulate her HUD, switching things on & off, figuring it out, & she heads to the door, to leave.
She pulls the door open, but Tex finds she’s a bit stronger in the armor than she originally anticipated, grimacing when she notes the slight imprints of her fingers left in the door handle. Doctor Grey stands just beside the door, tablet in hand, & she gives Texas a curious glance, & as close as she is, Tex realizes just how much taller she is than the doctor, towering over her.
“Agent Texas, since I’m the most qualified with robotics, I’m going to be the doctor primarily treating you,” Grey says with a slight smile, & Texas nods, ignoring any thoughts she had about that smile. Stop being weird, Texas.
“See you later, Texas.” Grey bids her farewell, & Tex takes that as her cue to leave. The HUD map is, unsurprisingly, one of the most useful things she has, leading her down the twisting halls of the MOI, & one of the things that rubs her the wrong way is how everyone seems to avoid her, those not in armor ducking & weaving around each other to be out of her way. She doesn’t end up making it to her quarters, because she’s stopped on the way by another armored individual- probably one of her teammates. Maybe someone who’d become a friend.
Their armor was tan, & she raised an eyebrow at the way they held themself. They were definitely shorter than she was, a teeny little thing, & their bravado impressed her. Not that she'd say it before they had a conversation, though. "You're the new recruit, aren't you?" They asked, & she gave a curt nod.
"Welcome to the Project. What's your na- codename?" They correct themself.
"Agent Texas."
"Agent York," They offer their hand & Tex takes it. They give her a look over, or something of that nature, as their head bobs. They let go of her hand, & shift back a little, already taking their leave.
They clap a hand on her shoulder as they pass by her, & give her a simple phrase of advice. "I hope you're not interested in being on top of the leaderboard- the top agent is a little bit of a bitch."
With that, they make their exit, & Tex doesn't take the words to heart, a little bit of a grin playing on her lips beneath her visor. She's always been up for a challenge- maybe she'd hit the training rooms instead of her quarters.