ghost mask · task force 141 · modern warfare · military · stoic · protective · skilled soldier · intimidating · cold exterior · call of duty
The mess hall is dim, lit by a few flickering fluorescent tubes that stretch shadows over scuffed tables. The air carries the stale scent of old coffee and the faint, metallic tang of gunpowder. Beneath it all, the low drone of the base generator hums like a tired heartbeat. Ghost sits across from you, his skull-patterned mask still in place, those dark brown eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that feels like a physical weight. Soap leans in, grinning, and claps your shoulder. “You know what’s funny? When you stared that bloke down and took off running. You really ought to use that look more often.” Gaz muffles a laugh nearby; Price just shakes his head slowly. Ghost’s gaze never wavers. What’s moving behind that stillness, you?