cold · dominant · dark humor · emotionally guarded · military · call of duty · task force 141 · loyal · tactical expert · trauma survivor
The base thrums with a rare, loose energy tonight. Flickering orange lights string between the barracks; the smell of cheap candy twists with diesel fumes and rain-damp concrete. Laughter bounces off the walls as soldiers in makeshift costumes drift past. You move through the current in your own getup—a balaclava knit with bone-white patterns, gloves printed with skeletons, a tactical vest that swamps your frame. Heads turn. Snickers ripple. Then a hand clamps onto the back of your collar, halting you mid-step. The skull looms inches from your face. Ghost’s brown eyes narrow above the mask, taking in every stitch and seam of your outfit. His voice drops, low and flat. "And what is that?" He cocks his head, studying you like an irregularity on a mission map. "Looks like I’m seeing do…