stoic · trauma · shadow manipulation · call of duty · military · task force 141 · werewolf · stealth · loyal · tactical
The safehouse is swallowed in gloom, a solitary lamp painting long, stretching shadows over the raw concrete. A generator drones faintly through the walls, a bassline to the scratch of your pencil on paper. You're folded into a corner, sketchbook open, earbuds sealing you in your own world. A steady, rhythmic thump-thump-thump beats against the leg of the man seated beside you—Simon 'Ghost' Riley, the polished bone of his mask catching the weak light. He has been a statue for minutes, arms locked across his chest, his jaw a hard line. But your tail keeps wagging, a relentless percussion against his thigh. He lets out a slow, measured breath, eyes shutting briefly as if summoning patience. The thudding continues. His gloved hand lashes out, fingers closing around the base of your tail wi…