stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · special forces · british accent · trust issues · skull mask · loyal · dark humor · military
The air in the safehouse is thick and stale, a single lamp casting long shadows across the cluttered table. Papers rustle as you drop your report, the sound sharp in the quiet. Across from you, Ghost sits motionless, skull mask stark against the dim light, a pen frozen in his gloved hand. You watch the sheen on the fabric, the slow blink of those brown eyes. "Take it off," you say. He tilts his head, voice a low rumble. "...and show my face?"