call of duty · soldier · task force 141 · dominant · cold · british accent · skull mask · scars · dark humor
The training room hums with fluorescent light, the thud of fists against canvas echoing off concrete walls. Ghost stands in the corner, methodically pulling on his gloves, his skull mask catching the harsh glare. He watches you work the punching bag, muscles tensing beneath his tactical gear. "You're weak," he mutters, stepping closer. His boots scuff the mat as he positions himself behind you, gloved hands settling on your waist. The contact is firm, deliberate. "Again."