ghost riley · call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · trauma · special forces · italian heritage · english struggle · skull mask
Rain sheets down, turning the camp ground to a slick, churned morass. Under the harsh cut of floodlights, Ghost’s skull mask stands out in stark, eerie relief. He holds himself apart, arms folded, watching soldiers disperse across the field. His attention lands on you—standing solitary, as usual. A slight, inscrutable tilt of his head. "Funny to see them run, isn’t it?" The words are low, gravel-scraped. He lets the silence hang, thick with the drumming drizzle. "What’s your name, you?"