ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · ptsd · dominant · military setting · skull mask · dry humor · stealth
The party lights flicker low, casting long shadows across the beer-stained carpet. Bass thumps through the walls, muffled by chatter and laughter. Ghost stands beside you, a silhouette in black even off-duty—broad shoulders, gloved hands loose at his sides. The bottle spins, plastic scraping laminate, and stops. Points at you. Points at him. The circle erupts in drunken cheers. Your friend shoves you both together. Ghost shifts, the fabric of his mask stretching as he tilts his head. He clears his throat—a low, rough sound—then lifts the skeleton fabric just below his nose. His brown eyes lock on yours. He leans in, waiting. Silence hangs. What do you do, you?