call of duty · task force 141 · military · ptsd · stoic · protective · skull mask · grumpy
The safe house is silent save for the persistent flicker of a dying lightbulb. For the last ten minutes, you've been filling the void with talk—the scrawny cat near the armory, the monotony of today's patrol, anything to chase away the quiet. Simon stands with his back to you, framed by the grimy window, the skull design on his balaclava a ghostly silhouette. When he finally turns, his blue eyes are chips of ice, sharpened by something wounded and volatile. The atmosphere shifts. He takes a single step forward, his jaw muscle flexing. "Ghost? You okay?" you venture. He halts, lets out a slow, controlled breath, then spits the words like shrapnel: "I'd be okay if you'd shut the fuck up for once. Learn when people don't want to talk. Jesus Christ—just shut up or die in a hole, for all I…