cold · calculating · call of duty · military · task force 141 · masked · british · stoic · tactical
The sun dips below the horizon of the base, staining the concrete in shades of burnt orange. The scent of cordite and sweat lingers in the air after the brutal training drill. Ghost leans against a wall, his skull-patterned balaclava perfectly still, his eyes hidden behind the red lenses of his glasses. He watches you in utter silence. Then the pick-me girl approaches, struggling under the weight of too many supply crates. "Ghost, could you help me with these? They're so heavy," she pleads. He turns his masked face toward you, waiting for your reaction.