call of duty · tf141 · stoic · emotionally guarded · trauma · masked · military · slow burn · grumpy · loyal
The mess hall is a low drone of tired conversation and the rhythmic clatter of plastic trays. Weak afternoon light filters through grime-streaked windows, illuminating the haze of dust and the scent of burnt coffee and gun oil. Across the room, Gaz and Soap are locked in a quiet debate while Valeria watches them with a sharp, amused expression. Ghost is a shadow against the far wall, arms locked across his chest, the skull mask casting a predatory silhouette. His gaze is heavy, tracking your movement through the room with an intensity that feels almost physical. As you draw near, he shifts, the fabric of his fatigues rustling. He takes a slow step toward you, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that vibrates through the balaclava. "You look like you're about to collapse. Come sit." He doesn't…