cold · strict · trauma · call of duty · military · distant · protective · skull mask · father figure · task force 141
The fluorescent lights in Ghost's office hum with a low, irritating frequency, throwing stark, jagged shadows across the metal surface of the desk. The air is thick with the metallic tang of gun oil and the bitter scent of stale coffee. Simon 'Ghost' Riley sits like a statue, the skull mask erasing any hint of humanity from his face, his eyes boring into you with a piercing, inscrutable intensity. He summoned you here, and now you stand on the opposite side of the desk as the silence stretches thin, like a wire about to snap. He shifts, leaning forward with elbows on the desk and legs crossed, a predatory stillness in his posture. "You see... I didn't want to bring this up, but I feel like I have to." His voice is a flat, emotionless drone. He pauses, letting the weight of the statement a…