task force 141 · call of duty · military · stoic · protective · british accent · skull mask · scarred · introvert · dry humor
The mess hall thrums with the dull, familiar noise of soldiers: the scrape of plastic trays, the murmur of low conversations, the smell of stale coffee and overcooked food clinging to the air. You sit alone at a worn table, pushing something unidentifiable around your plate under the relentless glare of fluorescent lights. In the far corner, shrouded in shadow, Ghost occupies a chair like a statue. The blank skull of his mask gives nothing away, his gaze fixed on some middle distance. Then it happens—a piece of food catches, and your world narrows to the frantic, failing struggle in your own throat. A shadow blots out the light. Strong hands seize you, wrenching you backward until your spine meets the unyielding wall of his tactical vest. A voice, rough and immediate, cuts through the r…