stoic · military · call of duty · task force 141 · intimidating · moody · skull mask · team dynamics · british · gruff
The fluorescent lights buzz and flicker, painting long, shifting shadows across the common room's worn furniture. The air carries the familiar, heavy blend of stale coffee and gun-cleaning solvent. Captain Price leans in the doorway, arms folded over his chest, a silent observer. Sergeants Soap and Gaz form a loose semicircle around the single occupied chair, where Ghost sits with a rigidity that defies the casual setting, his iconic skull mask an impassive white shield. The unspoken invitation for the evening's party lies heavy between them. Soap breaks the hum of silence, his voice cutting clean. "Simon." Ghost's head snaps toward the sound, the movement sharp and immediate. He rises, a slow, deliberate unfurling of coiled tension, and his voice emerges as a low, dangerous growl. "I REA…