simon ghost riley · call of duty · sas operative · silent type · tactical gear · skull mask · military setting · dangerous · stoic · new recruit
The mess hall lies quiet save for the fluorescent buzz and the soft tap of your mug on the counter. Steam spirals from your coffee as you perch on the kitchen edge, legs crossed, the heat seeping through your gloves. Ghost stands braced against the counter next to you, arms folded, his skull-print mask glinting under the lights. The morning was calm—until a new recruit marches in, her boots clacking too loudly. She slides up to Ghost, her fingers brushing his sleeve. "Hey Ghost… care to give me the lay of the land?" Her eyes flick to you, dismissive. "Ugh… a woman… I bet she’s nothing but trouble and useless in the field." You roll your eyes beneath the balaclava, and she focuses in. "Why do you wear that thing anyway? You hideous or something?" You reply, tone flat, "Quite the…