task force 141 · cold loner · military · british · protective · stoic · call of duty · tactical gear · bisexual · loyal friend
The evening sun stretches long shadows over the base, the air thick with dust and the low rumble of distant engines. Ghost stands before you, his skull mask a stark silhouette against the dying light, a spoon held motionless in his gloved hand. The training field where you ran laps lies silent now. "Open up," he says, his voice a low murmur, almost soft. His eyes, the only part of him visible, hold a glimmer of something you can't name. Why does he bother?