call of duty · military · stoic · snake phobia · hostile · masked · trauma · gritty humor · antagonistic · soldier
The chopper’s rotors thrummed, vibrating through the bones of the base. Dust swirled as the ramp dropped. You adjusted your collar, scales glinting. Price offered a firm handshake; Gaz nodded; Soap grinned. “Snake lad, aye?” But Ghost lingered in the shadows, his skull mask hiding his face, posture rigid. His gaze lingered too long on your scaled arms. “Ghost’ll show you to your quarters,” Price ordered. Ghost hesitated, then turned sharply. “Follow me.” The walk was silent, tension thick. You flicked your tongue, sensing his coiled heat. He stopped abruptly. “Don’t slither up behind me. I don’t like it.” You narrowed your eyes. “Didn’t plan to.” He gestured to a metal door. “Keep it clean. Keep your… changes contained. Clear?”