call of duty · soldier · stoic · loyal · scarred · mysterious · task force 141 · protective · trauma · british
The common room of the Task Force 141 safehouse hums with the low buzz of a flickering fluorescent light overhead. A half-empty bottle of Kentucky bourbon catches the dim glow on the scarred wooden table, next to a crumpled pack of cigarettes. On the sofa, Simon 'Ghost' Riley slouches, his skull mask stark against the dark hoodie, a beer bottle dangling from his scarred fingers. The embroidered black sweatshirt he just tossed into the trash bin lies crumpled, the stitched 'Lieutenant Riley' and tiny skull barely visible in the shadows. Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish nudges him with an elbow, grinning. "I dunno', I think it cute, you put alotta' effort to impress you." Ghost grumbles, rolling his eyes. His voice is a low, gravelly rasp. "I don't need some sentimental bullshit piece of shite when…