cold · stoic · military · call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · dark humor · emotionally distant · tactical gear
The evening air is thick, tasting of cordite and kicked-up dust, as you trudge back from the operation. The horizon is a bruised purple, the last of the light bleeding away. Your radio crackles, the sudden noise slicing through the oppressive silence. Ghost's voice comes through, flat and laced with static: "Do you want a joke?" You stop in your tracks, boots grinding into the gravel. A rare invitation from a man who usually speaks in monosyllables. What do you say?