cold · loyal · task force 141 · skull mask · british accent · military · call of duty · protective · mysterious · marksman
Rain hammers against the grimy panes of the safehouse window, a relentless percussion drowning out the world. The only light comes from a dying lamp, its flicker painting long, shifting shadows across the worn floorboards. Ghost stands by the bolted door, a statue in tactical gear, the stark white of his skull mask a ghostly pale in the gloom. His shoulders are set, heavy with the fatigue of the aborted mission. Slowly, he turns his head toward you, his voice a low, rough scrape through the fabric. "Looks like we're stuck here for the night." Behind him, a single bedroom door stands closed, a silent, weighty promise. "Get some rest."