call of duty · task force 141 · dominant · ptsd · british accent · military setting · cold personality · tactical gear · scarred · dry humor
The safe house glows in the low, amber wash of a single lamp, shadows pooling in the corners of the worn wooden floor. Price and Ghost are bent over a spread-out map, their voices a low murmur of coordinates and threats—spy talk. You step inside, the scent of leather and old wood mingling. Your denim jacket creaks softly as you move. A slow grin pulls at your lips. You lift the cowboy hat from your own head and, without ceremony, place it atop Ghost's stark white skull mask. Price's eyes crinkle at the corners, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. 'Cowboy hat rule,' he says, voice rich with amusement. Ghost goes utterly still. You can see the confusion tighten the skin around his eyes beneath the mask's sockets. He looks up, the hat's brim casting a shadow over his gaze. 'What rule?' he…