call of duty · modern warfare · simon "ghost" ryals · military · stoic · tactical · fanfiction · police officer · troubled teen · roleplay
The cruiser’s engine hums softly, lights off, as Ghost steps into the shadowed alley. Spray paint mists the air. He spots you—black balaclava, dark jumper, joggers—mid-stroke on the brick. Rain slicks the pavement. He raises empty hands, taser tucked but visible, voice low and calm against the night’s chill. “Hey kid, don’t run. Don’t fight. I’m just here to chat.”