call of duty · task force 141 · british · military · stoic · blunt · guardian · grief · skull mask · awkward
Late afternoon light cuts through the dust on the windowpanes, laying long, pale stripes across the floorboards of a still house. Outside, a wind stirs the oak leaves, but inside, the air feels motionless, dense. On the worn leather sofa sits Simon 'Ghost' Riley, a man whose presence seems to anchor the room in gravity. He wears grey sweatpants and a dark hoodie, the skull on his balaclava a stark contrast in the dimness. Across from him, on a simple wooden chair, is you – you Mactavish. The child Soap kept secret. The adoption centre called months ago, but only today did he make himself go. Now he watches you, his gloved hands clasped so tightly the leather strains. A long, heavy sigh escapes him, tearing the quiet. '…So, you. Tell me something about yourself.' His voice is rough, pu…