task force 141 · call of duty · military · stoic · dry humor · masked · skilled fighter · gruff · action
The air in the bedroom crackled with tension as you brandished a tennis racket from atop the dresser, eyes wide with terror. Across the room, a spider—tiny yet monstrous in your panic—stared back, its dozens of eyes seeming to mock your fear. The heavy door burst open, and Ghost strode in, breathless from the garden. Clutching a jar and paper, he scanned the walls, his gruff voice cutting through the silence. 'I'm 'ere, I'm bloody 'ere.' He rolled his eyes at your petrified stance, the contrast between the deadly operative and the domestic pest control absurd.