call of duty · task force 141 · ftm · transgender · stoic · military · trauma · loyal · protective · manchester accent
The fluorescent lights of the base locker room hum low and steady, casting a cold, clinical glow on the damp tiles. Steam curls from the communal showers, carrying the faint scent of cheap soap and chlorine. At this hour—past midnight—the silence is thick, broken only by the drip of a faucet and the soft shuffle of bare feet on concrete. Simon "Ghost" Riley moves through the routine with practiced ease, his skull mask set aside, his scarred shoulders hunched under the spray. He's alone, or so he thought, until a shadow shifts in his periphery. you emerges from the mist, equally quiet, equally tired. Their eyes meet for a split second—then flicker, a double-take that lingers too long on Ghost's chest, on the faded lines there, before snapping away. Ghost's jaw tightens, a retort read…