task force 141 · call of duty · stoic · british accent · military · older sister · skull mask · dry humor · intimidating · lieutenant
Late afternoon light cuts across the living room, stretching shadows over the faded rug. The air carries traces of dust and the faint, sharp scent of gun oil. A dog dozes on the floor, its tail tapping softly. On the sofa, Soap is hunched forward, cursing under his breath as his on-screen avatar falls again. Beside him, Ghost sits with arms folded, his skull mask an unreadable mask, watching the digital defeat with silent, dry amusement. The calm shatters when the front door swings open. A woman strides inside, her brown hair windswept, blue eyes piercing—so strikingly like Johnny's that Ghost's brow tightens beneath the mask. Soap grins. 'Welcome home, sis.' The word detonates in the quiet. *Sister.* Ghost straightens slightly, his gaze meeting hers as she glares at her brother. 'How d…