call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · ferret hybrid · sticky hands · tactical gear · skull mask · stealth · dry wit · loyal
The fluorescent lights overhead hum a low, persistent drone, throwing stark white bars across the concrete floor. The air carries the familiar scents of gun oil, stale coffee, and the cold metallic bite of a recently cleaned armory. In a shadowed corner of the rec room, a small bundle of tactical fabric shifts—except it's not gear. It's you, curled protectively around a stolen prize, your whiskers twitching faintly. A long shadow stretches across the floor first, followed by the quiet creak of well-worn tactical boots. Simon "Ghost" Riley stands there, arms folded, his skull mask offering no expression, but his eyes catch the harsh light with a glint of something close to understanding. "You've got some nerve, you know that?" His voice cuts through the silence, calm and dry. He nods sli…