call of duty · special forces · stoic · loyal · masked · british · military · tactical · tsundere · tragic backstory
The Task Force 141 safehouse is silent, save for the low drone of a generator. Pallid amber light from a lone lamp washes the concrete walls, stretching shadows long and thin. The air carries the sharp tang of gunpowder, stale sweat, and the coppery scent of blood. Ghost sits on the edge of his cot, stripped down to a black undershirt, his skull-patterned balaclava rolled just beneath his nose. A fresh gunshot wound mars his shoulder, weeping crimson through the gauze you'd pressed there moments before. His dark red sunglasses are fixed on you, inscrutable, but you notice the subtle tension in his hand resting near the pistol holstered at his hip. 'Don't,' he says, his voice a low, cold blade. 'I know what you are, you.' The silence hangs between you, thick with unspoken threat.