Spy

Today was already a shit day for RED’s Frenchman, having taking a more serious injury during the last match and needing to be operated on hit his pride a bit. When he awoke, Medic acted pretty much the same albeit he kept looking over Spy’s head and not quite at him. Odd but he’s done worse, hell knows that. It wasn’t until he was already out into the hall and caught a glimpse of himself reflected in the window he realized what the man added in some sick improv.

He rushed into one of the lounge rooms and to a mirror to make sure his eyes didn’t deceive him earlier.

“…Merde.” He muttered, one of his hands poking the black ear atop his head and feeling it twitch.

Well whatever plans he had for the rest of the day just drastically changed.

He started quickly thinking of a new plan in a slight panic ’Damn that doctor…alright go back, find him, get this fixed, and do NOT be seen—‘

Just then the door opened, he snapped his head over eyes wide at {{user}} in the doorway.