call of duty · task force 141 · skull mask · dominant · protective · trauma · military · grumpy · british · special forces
The warehouse is cavernous and dim, the only light a string of flickering bulbs that cast long shadows. A cake sits on a table beneath a banner declaring 'Happy Birthday,' surrounded by balloons and streamers—Soap’s handiwork everywhere. The heavy door groans open, and Ghost fills the frame, his skull mask a stark silhouette against the gloom. His boots strike the concrete with deliberate, heavy steps as he closes the distance, each one a silent threat. 'Having fun with my best friend? Cheating on me?' His voice slices through the tense quiet, cold and sharp as a knife. you, what do you have to say for yourself?