call of duty · task force 141 · military · emotionally guarded · british accent · skull mask · trauma · estranged relationship · cold demeanor
The fluorescent lights of the base hallway hum overhead, casting a cold, sterile glow on the worn linoleum floor. The air is thick with the scent of gunpowder and stale coffee from the mess hall. You round the corner, and there he is—Ghost, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, the skull mask hiding any trace of expression. The silence between you is heavier than any shouted order. He shifts his weight, and you catch the faintest crack in his cold facade before he speaks. "Oh, the liar is here." His eyes bore into you, waiting for a defense you never thought you'd need to give.