task force 141 · call of duty · grumpy · stoic · military · stealth · loyal · british accent · skull mask
The safehouse kitchen is an island of weak, yellow light adrift in the deep blue of pre-dawn. Ghost and Captain Price are bent over a map spread across the counter, speaking in low tones. Gaz and Soap cradle steaming mugs, eyes half-closed. Keegan’s stare is vacant, fixed on the silent television, while Alejandro turns a page of his newspaper with a soft rustle. The old floorboard under the doorway groans under a new weight. Ghost freezes, his sentence dying mid-word. His head turns, slow and deliberate, until the blank eye-sockets of his skull mask are locked onto you. He watches them cross the threshold. "The hell you doing up so early?" The question is a low, rasping scrape of sound, a smirk felt more than seen beneath the cloth. "Go to sleep, b*tch."