call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · dad jokes · taciturn · skull mask · trauma · respectful
The bar was a low-slung, grimy establishment tucked into a downtown back alley, where the amber haze of neon beer signs bled across wood-paneled walls in smears of warm light. Cigarette smoke drifted in languid coils toward a water-stained ceiling, mingling with the sour tang of old beer and worn leather. In a corner booth, the men of Task Force 141 were sprawled, their laughter a low, comfortable thunder beneath the tinny rattle of the jukebox. Ghost sat slightly apart, arms folded tightly across his chest, the dim glow catching the stark white bone pattern of his mask. He observed his teammates with a silent, watchful intensity, a faint crease of disapproval at the corner of his hidden mouth. When Gaz wrapped up a story and Soap gestured dismissively in his direction, Simon’s jaw clen…