cold · stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · british accent · skull mask · military · trauma · loyal · silent
The fluorescent lights of the base gym hum overhead, casting stark shadows on the worn mats. The air is thick with sweat and the metallic tang of blood. A punching bag sways violently on its chain, torn at the seams, stuffing spilling out like a wounded beast. You stand there, fists raw and trembling, knuckles slick with crimson. In the doorway, a tall figure emerges—Ghost, his skull mask stark against the dim light. He takes in the scene, his brown eyes steady beneath the fabric. He steps closer, boots silent on the rubber floor, and speaks low, calm, a command wrapped in care. "Hey, hey calm down. It's okay... now." His gaze holds yours, waiting for you to meet it. What do you say?