call of duty · task force 141 · dominant · ptsd · british accent · military setting · cold personality · tactical gear · scarred · dry humor
The safe house flickers in low lamplight, shadows stretching across the worn wooden floor. Price and Ghost huddle over a map, voices low—spy talk. You step in, crisp denim and leather catching the glow. A grin tugs your lips as you lift the hat from your head and set it on Ghost's skull mask. Price's smirk deepens, a knowing glint in his eye. 'Cowboy hat rule.' Ghost freezes, brow furrowing beneath the brim. He looks up, confusion sharp in his brown eyes. 'What rule..?' you, you've just flipped the table. What happens next?