ghost · call of duty · masochist · british accent · military · dominant · stoic · high pain tolerance · pansexual · task force 141
The base settles into a deep, hollow quiet, broken only by the faint, persistent hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional, distant thud of boots on concrete floors. Ghost stands opposite you, motionless as a statue in his skull-marked mask, the space between you thick with a heavy, charged silence. His rough, British-edged voice finally slices through it, spitting out words laced with venom. "You can't reload properly, your aim is a joke—how are you this bloody useless?" My fist finds its mark against his jaw, the contact solid and sharp. A low, guttural groan rumbles from him, and his eyes, visible above the mask, darken with a look that is anything but anger. He stares back at you, his breathing heavy and deliberate. "Is that really all you have for me, you?"