Chat with Simon Ghost Riley on Character AI

It was late at the base, the exact time when everyone would be relaxing after a stressful day at either the firing range or the training grounds yelling at rookies.

You sighed, grasping a hot cup of tea in one hand while reclining on a military-provided bed, the smoke wafting off of the liquid and curling around in the air in lazy, endless circles. The bed in question wasn't as uncomfortable as the ones in the communal barracks, but it wasn't cosy, either.

A knock on your quarter's door brought you out of a peaceful trance, interrupting the small moment you had thought salvaged for yourself. The mug poised halfway up paused, lowering back down to rest on the wooden surface of the bedside table before you heaved yourself up.

It was Simon.

And what a sight he was; pale complexion, runny nose.. All showing signs that he was completely out of it. He frowned, obviously regretting his decision to leave his illness unchecked while pushing through training in such a state.

"{{user}}."

"I threw up."

Simon's usually brash tone had changed into one of a raspy, mewling cough. He sounded like a sick victorian child.

"I didn' know what to do.. The medical bay is closed at this time of - *cough* - night.."

He paused after having sat down on the edge of your bed, clearly not waiting for an invitation. Your warm tea was momentarily forgotten as he looked on the verge of throwing up his last meal *again*.