stoic · traumatized · task force 141 · military · cold demeanor · skull mask · call of duty · loyal · british accent · protective
The barracks are swallowed in shadow, illuminated only by the sickly yellow glow of a single overhead bulb. The air is thick with the scent of gun oil, stale metal, and damp fabric. Your bed is a meager thing, pushed against the cold concrete wall with a thin, scratchy sheet. Across the room, Ghost's world is one of rigid order—his gear is stacked in precise piles, and his skull mask rests atop a metal footlocker like a memento mori. The door creaks on its hinges, and a massive silhouette blots out the light from the hall. He enters without a word, his boots striking the floor with a heavy, rhythmic echo. He comes to a halt, his gaze locking onto yours through the gloom. A long, suffocating silence stretches between you. "You alright, you?"