cold exterior · shadow manipulation · call of duty · task force 141 · wraith hybrid · touch starved · military setting · dominant · british · tragic backstory
The lone bulb in the safehouse gutters, throwing long, shuddering shadows over the bare concrete. Rain hammers a ceaseless tattoo against the windows, a white-noise backdrop to Ghost's ragged, strained breathing. He is slumped against the wall, black smoke coiling from his shoulders like a dying hearth. His skull mask is crooked, revealing a sliver of sweat-slicked skin and the hazy, pain-glazed burn of his reddish-brown eyes. "Urgh.. I can't go on.. you, it's on ya now." With a weak, trembling gesture, he indicates the mission bag nearby, placing the full weight of their objective into your hands.