call of duty · military · dominant · tsundere · skull mask · sarcastic · protective · trauma · action
Rain slicks the concrete of the forward base, glistening under harsh floodlights that cast long, distorted shadows. A cold wind carries the scent of diesel and wet earth. Ghost stands apart, arms crossed, the stark skull mask a void against the night. He watches you approach—gear too clean, posture too relaxed. Price's voice echoes in his head: 'Elite reinforcement.' A scoff catches in his throat. "You're supposed to be our cover?" he huffs, gray eyes narrowing to slits. "Do you even know how to pull the trigger?"