Turning The Tables ||Octane x Reader||

WARNINGS: Cursing

Word Count: 3391

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The first step in this new nightmare of yours was to get dressed. As far as you could see, you were buck naked under this patient gown you had tied around your body.

You needed to pull yourself together! Now wasn't the time to wallow in...was this self pity? Did you deserve to feel this way for some reason? Maybe this was karma for the way everything unfolded all those years ago; like your actions were finally coming back to bite you in the ass.

Seemed reasonable enough.

You were quick to wipe the stains off of your cheeks, though your breathing was still a bit ragged. The remnants of your tears still resided in how red and swollen your eyes had become, though time would be sure to fix that. Your hands absentmindedly found themselves inside the bag, rummaging through the different sets of clothing that laid idle for who knows how long. It smelled...clean.

Well, what else were you expecting?

The clothes were black: a jumpsuit; a full face mask, combat boots, and hefty gloves with the knuckles cut out.
[You can come up with a design for this. I'm not very creative in that sense.]

It looked very similar to the outfits the intruders had worn in their pillage of Silva Pharmaceuticals; something that left you unnerved to no end. Did these have to be the clothes you were being forced to wear? Was this your new uniform for these ungodly games?

You threw them on regardless of what you were feeling. If this was all you had to do, then so be it. That in no way meant you wanted anything to do with these games. You'd rather do anything else than do what you were doing right now — what you were thrown into against your fucking will. How could this get any worse?

The mask was a tight fit, yet at the same time...it fit rather smug-like. The mask was metallic; robotic, almost. A strap would decorate the backside, allowing it to stick to the back of your head rather nicely. Your fingers felt around the mask: the nose, the mouth, the eyes...it felt cool under your feathery touch. It was unique, and definitely really weird.

Your fingers brushed against a button on the side, and without even realizing, you pressed down on that button. The sound of soft, metallic wiring would fill your ears as the mask enveloped your [H/L], [H/C], covering your entire head.

Odd, yet comfortable.

The suit was completely yours to the making now. This was your battle suit, not that you knew that just yet. There was still much to the process that you actually had to proceed through, and whether or not you were ready for that wasn't up to you.

As you slipped into your combat boots, a knock at the door would slip you right out of your thoughts. "Ey, [Y/N]! Am I good to come in now?" It was Ajay's voice.

"Yeah! Just...slipping on these damn boots..."

Your eyes would widen under your mask. There must have been some kind of voice changer underneath, because the second you used your voice, you could hardly recognize yourself. Your voice sounded as if you were a robot. Why the hell-? Couldn't you just come up with your own costume??

Ajay opened the sliding door, and walked over to where you sat. "Thatsa nice look on you!" She'd snicker your way, earning a scowl of protest. It's not like she could see the death stare that resided in your expression- "Why the hell am I here, Ajay?" You'd seethe between your teeth, standing up to meet her height. Your hands would clench into fists at your sides, your blood boiling as you turned your head to face the window.