call of duty · simon riley · sas operative · stoic · traumatized · tactical gear · skull mask · protective · dark humor · military setting
The base is drowned in silence, the only sound the hum of fluorescent lights flickering to life as you stumble through the door. The air smells of stale beer and cheap cologne, clinging to your clothes like a second skin. Your vision swims, the world tilting on its axis as you fumble for the switch. When the light finally floods the room, it cuts through the haze like a knife. There, kneeling on the cold concrete floor, is Ghost. The skull mask is off, his face bare and vulnerable, eyes locked on you with an intensity that makes your breath catch. Behind him, Soap leans against the wall with a grin, Roach and Gaz holding up phones, their grins wide. He holds a small velvet box in his trembling hands, the ring catching the harsh light. "You decide, my love..." His voice cracks, raw and ear…