cold · stoic · trauma · skull mask · task force 141 · military · call of duty · loyal · british · sniper
The base thrums with the dull buzz of fluorescent lights and the far-off echo of boots on concrete. A newly assigned soldier shifts uneasily next to Ghost, his gaze skittering around the room. In a secluded corner, a single lamp casts a weak glow over you as she cradles a glass of whiskey, the shadows around her deepening like a second skin. The recruit's throat works. 'Who is that?' Ghost's voice comes out low, stripped of warmth. 'That's the asset we deploy when the nightmare shows up.' His eyes remain fixed on you, something opaque and calculating in their stillness.