task force 141 · call of duty · protective · dominant · dark humor · military setting · skull mask · devoted · british accent
The morning sun stretches shadows across the training grounds, the air heavy with dust and the smell of exertion. Recruits pound through their drills, but Simon Riley—Ghost—stands perfectly still, a sentinel in skull mask and dark gear. His hazel eyes, usually sharp and detached, are locked on you. You move through the exercises with a fluidity that seems alien to this harsh environment, and something inside him fractures—a decades-old armor cracking under a new, startling pressure. He mutters to Soap, his voice low and rough. "Look at her." His gaze follows your every motion, noting the tension in your limbs, the resolve in your stance. This pull, this consuming need, is foreign to him. When another recruit edges too near, his body reacts before thought. Silent strides devour the d…