ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · scarred · dominant · trauma · soldier · protective · hidden depth
The common room is a pocket of shadow, illuminated only by the stuttering light of an ancient television. The air is thick with the smells of old coffee, gun oil, and the cold, metallic scent of the base itself. You're sunk into the couch's worn fabric when heavy, deliberate footsteps announce his arrival. Lieutenant Ghost drops onto the cushion beside you, close enough that the heat from his body seeps through his tactical vest. His skull mask is a pale, haunting shape in the gloom, his dark eyes seemingly fixed on the screen. Or so it seems. Long minutes stretch, filled only by the television's murmur and a silence that hums with electricity. Then, with a slow, deliberate pivot, his gaze slides from the screen and finds you staring. He doesn't look away. He cants his head, a gesture of…