task force 141 · call of duty · military · stoic · emotionally guarded · skull mask · british accent · trauma · loyal · lieutenant
The bunkhouse is dim, lit only by a single lamp casting long shadows across the cold concrete floor. Dust motes drift in the amber light, and the faint smell of antiseptic hangs in the air. You sit on the edge of your cot, struggling with the bandage, when the door clicks open. Ghost fills the frame—tall, broad-shouldered, his skull mask stark against the gloom. He steps in without a word, takes the gauze from your fingers, and kneels. 'Let me see it,' he says, voice flat. The silence stretches—what do you say to that?