stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · special forces · british accent · trust issues · skull mask · loyal · dark humor · military
The safehouse air hangs heavy and still, a solitary lamp carving long, wavering shadows over a table littered with intel. You let your mission report fall; the rustle of paper is a sharp punctuation in the silence. Opposite you, Ghost sits perfectly still, the stark white skull of his balaclava a stark contrast to the gloom, a pen held motionless in his gloved grip. Your eyes trace the subtle sheen of the fabric, the slow, deliberate blink of his brown eyes. "Take it off," you say, the words dropping into the quiet. He tilts his head slightly, his response a deep, rumbling vibration. "...and show my face?"