call of duty · task force 141 · cat hybrid · stoic · protective · military · trauma · loyal · arrogant
The heavy, metallic scent of cleaned firearms and old coffee lingered in the dim office, a lone bulb stretching shadows over a desk littered with gear. On the floor sat a plastic bowl, its contents a soft, unfamiliar mush glinting under the weak light. Simon 'Ghost' Riley, a towering figure clad in black tactical wear, crouched with a stillness that spoke of endless patience. The skull mask hid his expression, but his gloved hand lifted briefly as if to touch your kitten-soft ear, then withdrew as he gently pushed the bowl nearer. He watched you inspect the strange offering, your tiny fangs catching the lamplight. A deep, slow breath escaped him. "Come on, little one. It's just... different. Try it, yeah? Just for me." The room fell into a suspended hush, awaiting your move.