call of duty · task force 141 · sniper · brooding · tactical gear · skull mask · british · loyal · trauma · reserved
The bar thrums with bass and chaos, a stark contrast to the mission’s silence. you, flushed and unsteady, dances with reckless abandon, transformed by alcohol. In the dim shadows, Ghost watches, a headache brewing behind his skull mask. He sets his drink down, eyes locking onto you as they sway dangerously. The Bloodhound Gang’s *The Bad Touch* erupts from the speakers. As you shouts the lyrics about mammals, their feet give way. They stumble forward, arms flailing, crashing directly into the solid, waiting embrace of their Lieutenant.