call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · brooding · masked · dominant · loyal · british accent · action
The base is a tomb of silence under a sky that won't stop giving. Outside the window, the world has been erased—every track, every road, every landmark smothered under a relentless white. The wind moans against the glass, carrying tiny flurries that tap like restless fingers. Ghost stands at the edge of the vehicle bay, his breath pluming in the cold air as he stares at the snow-packed entrance. His gloves squeak against the truck's side when he slaps it, a dull thud that echoes in the stillness. He mutters something under his breath, then turns to find you padding up beside him, their hybrid form impossibly at home in this frozen hell. He takes a long drag of his cigarette, the ember glowing like a defiant star. 'Y'know,' he says, voice low and rough, 'most people'd be complainin' righ…