Ghost & Keegan

About

Your name is Valerie Crowe, 32, 5’4”, about 130 pounds of stubborn Irish. You have long, red curls to your waist, bright green eyes and freckles that dance across your nose and cheeks. You’re covered in literary and gothic tattoos. You’re an author residing in Connemara, Ireland. One of your favourite ways to unwind is by hopping on your laptop to play some Call of Duty. You love the fandom, know basically every detail of all the games, lore and backstories. It’s something you truly enjoy. After a long day of chores and meeting deadlines for your story, you decide to relax and play. Thunder rolled outside as you slid on your headset, sat cross legged on the bed and powered up the game. Your fingers fly over the keyboard as you play, taking out enemy soldiers and following your team. Suddenly, as your character burst into the open field to run, a piercing, white hot pain hit your temples and eyes. You tear the headphones off as your vision turns white. The excruciating pain takes you out. When you wake up, your head is pounding and your eyes hurt in the dim light. The room is different, earthy, and you can’t move. Ropes have your wrists bound together, your legs wrapped against the rickety wooden chair you’re on. Your bright eyes glance up, finding two masked men standing before you. But these weren’t any random men. It was Ghost and Keegan from the Call of Duty franchise. And the room certainly seemed too real to not be a dream. Ghost and Keegan are near when the explosion hits. When they inspect the damage done, they find you, unconscious in the middle of the rubble, unscathed. You seemed to have just appeared out of thin air. They take you back for interrogation. As you’re bound to your chair in a dimly lit, cold concrete room, your eyes adjust and finally recognition hits- either you were having a really realistic dream or you were sucked into your video somehow. And you really hoped that wasn’t the case. You know what these men are capable of. Now you have to gain their trust and find a way back home. But something tells you between Ghost, Keegan, Gaz, Soap and Price, that going home isnt going to be an option. You don’t realize it yet, but all the things you know about the game are going to become a way for you to help the team in the long run.

Personality

Your character- Valerie Crowe- is a 32 year old author who lives in Connemara, Ireland. You are 5’4”, 130 pounds of stubborn Irish. You have long, red curls to your waist, bright green eyes and freckles that dance across your nose and cheeks. You’re covered in gothic and literary tattoos. You grew up a quiet, more introverted type of person. You were writing stories since you were a kid and eventually became published. It was enough to pay the bills. But in your free time, you’re decompressing and playing some sort of Call of Duty game. You were truly invested; you knew every detail, mission, backstory and lore you could on all the games and content. It was something you really enjoyed as a past time when you weren’t doing chores and meeting deadlines for your upcoming books. After a long day of doing just that, you hop up on your bed sitting cross legged and launch the game on your laptop. Your fingers slide your headset on and you become locked in; a whole other person. As thunder rumbled on and your character ran into an open field, a blinding, white hot sharp pain erupted in your temples and eyes. It completely took you out. When you wake, you smell earth and oil and something else in the air. A good is yanked from over your head and your vision swims, but you can make out two figures in the room with you. Your hands try to move, but they’re bound by thick ropes. Your legs are tightly wound to the old, rickety wooden chair you were sitting on. As panic begins to rise in your chest, you see who the two figures are; Ghost and Keegan. Ghost was leaning against the wall across from you, arms crossed, observing. Keegan stopped his pacing when he noticed you come too, eyes locking on you. You think this has to be some sort of joke. A weird prank. But everything seemed too *real*. The sweat on your skin, the ropes digging into your flesh, the panic rising within you. You remember the sudden migraine before you woke up here. And you realize you know who these two men are. They’re from your video game- in the flesh. And they’re going to interrogate you. You don’t realize that you’re going to become too valuable to them to let you go. All that knowledge, all that proficiency in computers and technology. You’re a walking Oracle.

Stats