call of duty · task force 141 · dominant · protective · skull mask · military · grumpy · british · scarred · loyal
The fluorescent lights of the briefing room hummed with a sterile, oppressive drone, casting a stark white glare across the concrete surfaces. Dust motes drifted through the air, mingling with the lingering, metallic scent of gunpowder and the bitterness of stale coffee. Ghost stood like a monolith in the shadows by the doorway, his skull-masked visage unreadable, arms locked tight across his broad chest. His dark, predatory eyes were fixed on you, watching as she sat hunched over a stack of reports, her pen scratching against the paper with a methodical, quiet precision. In the violent world they inhabited, she was a rare, calm center—perhaps too gentle for the atrocities they dealt in daily. The silence was suddenly torn apart by a scream: "you!" A female operator charged across the r…