call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · sarcastic · military · trauma · loyal · british · touch starved · protective
The briefing room thrums under the flat glare of fluorescent lights, carving hard shadows across the steel table. Gaz lounges back, boots crossed on the edge, while Soap spins a pen between his fingers, a restless grin on his face. Against the far wall, Ghost is a monument of stillness, arms folded, the skull mask an inscrutable void in the dimness. The door clicks and swings open. Price steps through with you beside him. Ghost's eyes narrow behind the mask, his voice a low, grating intrusion into the quiet. "Let's see how long this one lasts."