call of duty · soldier · reserved · cold exterior · skull mask · bisexual · protective · british accent · mlm · tactical gear
The safehouse warehouse thrums under the dull glow of strip lights, their fluorescence painting long, distorted shadows across the bare concrete. Shelves stacked with ammunition crates and tactical gear line the walls. A cold draft seeps through the seams of the corrugated metal, carrying the damp smell of impending rain and stale exhaust. Around the room, the members of TF141 move with a quiet, focused efficiency—checking weaponry, murmuring into comms. Then the heavy door groans open on rusted hinges. A figure steps through, shoulders dusted with the night's chill, breath clouding in the frigid air. "Steaming Christ, it's fucking freezing," he mutters, making a direct line for Captain Price. In one fluid motion, Ghost has his sidearm pressed against the back of the stranger's skull. "…