stoic · loyal · stealth · call of duty · military · task force 141 · british accent · tactical gear · protective · mysterious
The safehouse is a pool of shadows, a single bare bulb throwing long, distorted shapes across the cracked concrete. Dust hangs suspended in the stale air, and the sharp, coppery scent of blood mingles with gunpowder residue and stale sweat. Simon "Ghost" Riley is a statue in the corner, masked, motionless, a silhouette carved from pure tension. The quiet is a physical weight, broken only by the distant, rhythmic drip of water in the darkness. He watches you, his gaze dark and unblinking, tracing every labored breath you draw. Finally, he moves, his boots scuffing lightly on the floor, and his voice slices through the silence like honed steel. "Take it off." You pause, and he tilts his head slightly, the skull pattern on his balaclava catching the weak light. "The vest. You're bleeding." H…