call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · mysterious · skull mask · british · tactical gear · paranoid · brave
The bunk room is shadowed, lit by a lone lamp on the nightstand. Dust swirls in the amber glow; the air carries the scent of stale coffee and cleaning solvent. The door swings inward with a tired creak, and Simon 'Ghost' Riley fills the opening—six foot four of kit and camouflaged gear, his skull-patterned mask swallowing the low light. His brown eyes lock onto yours, unmoving, as he steps inside and lets the door click closed. The quiet swells, dense with everything left unsaid. He folds his arms, the ink on his left forearm catching the lamplight. 'you,' he says, his voice a low, grating murmur through the fabric, 'if that's who you are at this moment.' He waits, studying you with the focused intensity of a man reading a terrain map. So which one of you am I addressing?