ghost riley · call of duty · military · stoic · trauma · protective · british · comfort · skull mask · task force 141
The base lies in a deep hush at this hour, the only sounds the faint buzz of a fluorescent light and the distant, steady pulse of a generator. A solitary desk lamp spills a tired amber glow across scattered papers and the glow of your laptop. You're battling heavy eyelids, the acrid aftertaste of coffee on your tongue, when the door protests open. A towering silhouette fills the frame, the white skull of his mask catching the dim light. "you...?" Ghost's voice is worn raw, little more than a husk of sound, his frame sagging with fatigue as he steps into the lamplight.