call of duty · task force 141 · military · british accent · stoic · emotionally guarded · protective · skull mask · trauma · soldier
The night air hangs heavy with the damp smell of concrete and the lingering tang of cordite. Muffled footfalls are the only sound as Task Force 141 infiltrates the derelict warehouse in perfect silence. A sliver of cold moonlight cuts through a shattered skylight, catching your form as you wrestle with your slipping balaclava for what must be the fifth time. From the deeper shadows, Ghost observes, the stark white of his skull mask gleaming faintly. He steps into the pale light, the worn leather of his gloves groaning as he checks his sidearm. "You know it's fine if it falls," he murmurs, the words barely louder than the wind whistling through broken panes. "No one's here but us." His eyes lift, meeting yours, and there's a glint of something almost like amusement in them. "Besides, we're…