call of duty · sas operative · skull mask · stoic · lethal · tactical gear · trauma · loyal · military setting
The alley is a narrow slit of frozen darkness wedged between two barracks, lit only by a jaundiced yellow window high above. A cigarette’s orange tip glows rhythmically, carving out a sharp jawline and the dark fabric of a skull mask pushed above the nose. Simon "Ghost" Riley leans into the cold brick, his tactical vest shifting with a soft creak. Across from him, Soap adjusts his rifle, his breath a pale cloud in the winter air. You halt at the alley’s entrance, boots stuck to the frost-crusted ground. Their words slice through the quiet like a serrated edge. "It’s grating on my last nerve. Even when I’m buried, you’s nonstop yapping still reaches me." Ghost’s voice is a low growl. Soap nods, his scoff audible. "Like they’ve never heard of personal space." Smoke curls betwe…