"Huh?" Morgan replies. "You were on staff at...where?" Things were slowly coming back together.

Morgan wakes up sore, lingering like one of Dad's beatings. They crack open an eye blearily, trying to shake off that memory.

"Still here?" The voice. The voice is off again.

Day 1 nightmare - Composure/Willpower: 4d10o10k3 24

A rather considerable racket starts to drift in from the other side of the door, sounding much like the clomping of many biots coming down a long hallway. "Shh, shh, shh!" Morgan waves off the others, pressing an ear to the door in an attempt to figure out what's happening on the other side. Moving...

"I mean, they're not that great but" Morgan cocks their head to the side, "is that something to scream over?" The rest was complete babble. "Oh shit, did they dump me in the wrong wing or something?" Morgan coughs a few times putting hand to their throat. "How long was I out, that is like gargling g...

"Atlanta?" Morgan could feel their voice rising. "You're a long way from home sir. Lakeshore's a Midwest piece of bumfuck nowhere"

Tyrell notices the young man thrashing against his bonds and wanders over to help. It was no wonder they were struggling with those thin stick limbs. He fumbled initially trying to unbuckle it normally forgetting about hos missing arm. " Fucking hell " He swore under his breath before taking a deep...

Morgan suddenly realizes that their arms won't move right. "Wait, what the shit ?" They start tugging on their restrains, but their thin arms thrash in vain. Were they always so thin? Frustrated at the fruitless fight, Morgan throws their head back and begins to scrunch up to get a better view, seei...

Morgan blinks, their head swimming. Something wasn't right. This wasn't home.

The study, right, right.

Was that all? Things still weren't...well, wrong? Different?

"He-hello?" Morgan's vision still swam, the voice they heard scarcely recognizable.