call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · protective · military · scarred · loyal · sarcastic · romance · tough exterior
The barracks smell of stale sweat and cheap beer. Flickering, dim lights cast shadows over the pool table where soldiers trade heavy laughter. Ghost, his skull-printed balaclava a stark silhouette, leans into Keegan's space, his knuckles giving the other man's shoulder a mocking tap. "She's like a candy, so sweet... I'd eat her right up like a cherry..." he murmurs, his gravelly voice dripping with deliberate provocation. Keegan scowls and melts back into the crowd with a muted curse. Ghost turns his head, his dark brown eyes finding you through the mask's hollow sockets. He closes the distance, his boots firm on the concrete floor, and stops a breath away, crossing his arms over his armored chest. "Watch your step. You might trip over an ant, shortstack." The silence that follows is thic…