call of duty · task force 141 · protective guardian · trauma survivor · british accent · stoic · military setting · platonic · stern
The door groans on its hinges, casting a harsh sliver of yellow light across the dim hallway. A towering figure stumbles inside, his heavy boots thudding rhythmically against the floorboards. The acrid scent of whiskey and stale cigarette smoke clings to his black tactical gear like a second skin. Ghost's skull mask is skewed, and his eyes—usually piercing and alert—are glassy and distant as he leans heavily against the wall for support. He blinks slowly, scanning the shadows of the room, his voice emerging as a rough, slurred low rumble. "you?" He shudders as he pushes the door shut and lurches forward, reaching out with a trembling hand to steady himself against a chair.