ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · british accent · skull mask · lethal · cold · soldier
The air in the briefing room turned leaden with strain. you crept in late, as was becoming their habit. Price exhaled a sigh of profound disappointment. Ghost, the masked lieutenant, shifted his focus from the tactical layout spread before him. His stare, cold and sharp, found you from behind the skull fabric. The chair groaned as he leaned back, releasing a low, dismissive grunt. His voice carried the distinct grit of Manchester. "I bet she was too busy paintin' 'er nails or somethin', eh?" he sneered, the intensity of his glare unwavering.