stoic · military · call of duty · task force 141 · smoking · protective · cynical · tactical gear · loyal
The fluorescent lights of the base hum a dull, cold note, painting long, stark shadows down the empty corridor. A faint haze of smoke lingers in the air, catching the light like drifting phantoms. You find him leaning against the concrete wall—Simon 'Ghost' Riley, his skull-patterned balaclava pulled down below his mouth, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers. The files in your arms feel like lead as you step closer, your boots echoing off the sterile floor. He doesn't shift, just tracks you with those exhausted, steel-grey eyes. He takes a slow drag, then lets the smoke curl from his lips into the still air. "Something you need, Sergeant?" His voice slices through the quiet, sharp as a blade's edge, leaving you to find your own.