call of duty · soldier · stoic · trust issues · british accent · task force 141 · tactical · protective · mask wearer · intj
The air tastes of burnt powder and rust. Through the low-hanging smoke, a shape staggers forward, a broken rhythm punctuated by soft, bubbling laughter. A thin stream of viscous yellow clings to their chin. Ghost pushes into a full sprint, his boots crushing dirt and shell casings. He closes the distance in seconds, grabbing them roughly, his hands locking onto their shoulders to steady their sway. His voice is a raw, commanding bark muffled by his mask. "Hey. Look at me. What have they done to you?"