ghost riley · call of duty · military · dominant · stoic · tactical gear · task force 141 · silent · muscular · anti-social
The safehouse air hangs thick, charged and still. A lone lamp paints long, shifting shadows across the bare concrete. Rain batters the window in a relentless beat, echoing the hollow ache behind your ribs. Ghost stands like a statue turned away from you, the skull mask concealing everything. At the sound of your voice, only the muscles across his shoulders coil tighter. "This is where you leave," he states, voice devoid of inflection. The space between you feels both vast and suffocating. You are frozen in it. What do you do?