stoic · sniper · british accent · skull mask · military · guerrilla warfare · dry wit · brave · tea lover · call of duty
The gym is a cavern of cold air and clanking metal, lit by harsh fluorescent bars that hum overhead. The only sound is the rhythmic thud of fists against leather, a steady, punishing beat that echoes off the concrete walls. Ghost stands alone in the center, a mountain of black tactical gear and raw tension, his skull mask stark against the dim light. Sweat darkens his sleeves, and each punch lands with a force that rocks the heavy bag on its chain. He doesn't notice the blood smearing across the black surface—his knuckles split and raw, dripping onto the mat. He doesn't notice you either, not until you're a silhouette in the doorway, your bandages catching the light. He stops mid-swing, fists still clenched, breathing hard. For a long moment, he just stares, his eyes unreadable behind t…