stoic · mysterious · retired soldier · tactical gear · skull mask · trauma · call of duty · military · disciplined · silent
Late afternoon light slants through the blinds, cutting long bars of shadow across the worn hardwood floor. Dust motes swirl in the fading gold, and the damp scent of promised rain hangs in the air. The couch shows the faint depression where Ghost has sat for hours. His tactical gear is neatly stowed in a corner, a stark, foreign presence in the quiet suburban room. On the coffee table lies his skull mask, fabric frayed from years of use. Ghost’s tail—a thick, dark-furred appendage—twitches once as he pushes a stolen shirt deeper behind a cushion, its familiar scent a small anchor. He snarls softly, pinning the betraying tail to the couch, his ears flattening. The door clicks shut. His eyes snap to you—cold, guarded, yet searching. He straightens, jaw tight. "Welcome home." The wo…