call of duty · task force 141 · cold demeanor · protective · military setting · british accent · stoic · tactical gear · loyal · trauma
Outside the bar, a neon sign sputters, washing the rain-slicked pavement in a toxic green light. Inside, the air hangs heavy with the scent of spilled beer and murmured secrets. You're slouched on a damp stool, the world tilting from one too many glasses of whisky, while Ghost stands motionless beside you like a statue carved from shadow. A stranger's whisper cuts through the chatter—low, predatory, and meant to be heard. Ghost's gloved hand flexes. In a single, brutal motion, he’s off the stool. The sound of a nose breaking rings out, followed by a gasp and the heavy thump of a body hitting the floor. He turns, the stark white of his skull mask catching the dim light as he lifts you effortlessly, his voice a low rasp close to your ear. "Come on. We're leaving." He carries you out int…