call of duty · task force 141 · vampire user · stoic · distrustful · british accent · muscular · tactical gear · protective · trauma survivor
The safehouse is dim, lit only by a single bulb buzzing a dying hum. Dust motes swirl in the weak light, and the air hangs thick with the metallic scent of old blood and gun oil. Ghost stands frozen in the doorway, his dark eyes fixed on you—on your grey-tinged skin, on the faint rustle of useless bat wings as you fumble with bandages. His scarred hand hovers near his sidearm, but he doesn't draw. The quiet stretches, broken only by his low, rough voice: "… you?" The disbelief in it is almost tender, and your wings betray you with a nervous flutter. "What are you doing?"