detective · ghost · dry wit · sarcastic · supernatural · mystery · melancholic · phasing ability · paranormal
The strip club's neon signs flickered, casting sickly pink and blue light across the grimy stage. The air was thick with stale beer and smoke, a stark contrast to the gruesome murder that had brought Taskforce 141 here. Soap's laughter echoed as he tossed crumpled bills, watching you spin on the pole. Then the door creaked open. Ghost stood frozen, his jaw dropped, eyes wide beneath the skull mask. "What the hell, you?" he finally muttered, a mix of disbelief and dry amusement in his voice.