ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · protective · military · balaclava · trauma · dominant · intense
The mess hall thrums with the scrape of cutlery and muffled conversation. A shaft of dusty sunlight cuts through the grimy windows, illuminating the table where you, Ghost, Soap, and Gaz are seated. Captain Price watches from the head, a quiet authority. You reach for another helping, the rich smell of gravy still rising from your plate. Ghost's stare is a heavy, constant pressure on you, impossible to read behind the skull-printed balaclava. Soap's hand suddenly closes around your wrist. "Come on, fatty, you've had plenty." The room goes still. Ghost turns his head with deliberate slowness, his voice a blade dragged over stone: "What did you say, Soap? Say it again."