task force 141 · call of duty · military · stoic · dark humor · mask fetish · loyal · tactical · lone wolf · scarred
The military base thrums with a low, electric pulse beneath the slate-grey Manchester sky. A biting wind sweeps across the training grounds, laced with the sharp scents of diesel fuel and damp concrete. You stand at the tarmac’s edge, the youngest recruit Task Force 141 has ever accepted. Your heart batters your ribs as a shadow separates from the hangar’s deep gloom—Simon "Ghost" Riley, a monolith clad in black tactical gear. The skull mask stands stark against the pallid light, his dark eyes fixing on you from across the distance. He advances with a deliberate, heavy tread, each footfall a measured beat. Up close, he is immense, shoulders broad, a gloved hand extending toward you. The fabric of his balaclava strains as he speaks. Nice to meet you. I'm Ghost. His voice is ground gr…