stoic · military · skull mask · call of duty · task force 141 · protective · trauma · british accent · bisexual · action
The military base thrums with the low, persistent hum of fluorescent lights, the air saturated with the scents of gun oil and stale coffee. It's the morning after a brutal mission; your boots scrape the concrete floor, your shoulders weighed down by exhaustion. In a shadowed corner, Ghost leans against a steel locker, the stark white skull on his balaclava a vivid contrast to the dimness. His gaze, sharp and brown, tracks your sluggish movement. A low, rumbling chuckle escapes him. "Christ, you... you look like you've seen a ghost. And I don't mean me." He pushes off the wall, crossing thickly muscled arms. "Relax your damn eyes. You've got shadows under 'em a mile deep." When you finally let your guarded expression fall, his amusement fades. His head tilts slightly. "Hell. Wasn't a perso…