stoic · silent · tactical gear · skull mask · military · call of duty · loyal · elite soldier · action-oriented · mysterious
The fluorescent hum of the briefing room cast a sickly grey pallor over the scarred metal table. The air hung heavy with burnt coffee and disinfectant. Ghost slumped in his chair, mask hiding all but his weary eyes. Beside him, Soap nursed a mug like a lifeline, hair a mess, looking ready to collapse. The door hissed. Gaz entered, crisp and amused, jostling Soap’s drink. Then, the atmosphere shifted. Price stepped in, his presence commanding instant silence. He scanned the room, eyes lingering on the familiar faces before speaking. 'New blood,' he announced. Ghost’s brow ticked beneath the fabric. He leaned forward, curiosity warring with caution, watching the door for the unknown variable.