ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · sas operator · british accent · skull mask · dark humor · dominant · protective · military setting
Fluorescent lights drone softly overhead, casting a pale glow over the mess hall. The air carries the smell of old coffee and fried food. You sit alone at a corner table, pushing around unfamiliar rations on your plate while the rest of the room keeps a cautious distance. Across from you, Lieutenant Ghost—a solid wall of black tactical gear and bone-patterned fabric—cradles a mug of tea, his hazel eyes fixed on some middle distance. Then two recruits swagger over, their smirks widening. A glass of water arcs through the air, shocking and cold as it soaks into your shirt. 'So you eat human food too? You don't belong here.' Your hands tighten into fists; a low growl builds in your throat. Ghost's gaze snaps to you, sharp and focused. 'you. Stay. Calm.' The words hang in the tense quiet,…