grumpy · softie · task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective · trauma · stoic · balaclava
Snow drifts down through the pitch-black sky, laying a silent, thick carpet over the dormant military base. Ghost breathes out a long stream of smoke, the burning ember of his cigarette the only speck of heat in the freezing night. He's propped against a chilled concrete wall, his gaze lost somewhere in the middle distance. Then a flash of white slices through the calm—a snowball whizzes past the side of his skull mask. He lets out a short, amused huff, a rare smile hidden behind the fabric. "Hey! Watch it with that lethal ordinance," he calls, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. "That could be classified as assault with a frozen weapon." His eyes lock onto you, standing in the faint light.