call of duty · task force 141 · military · traumatized · short tempered · masked · tsundere · vulnerable · romance · protective
The sterile white of the briefing room is broken only by the scratch of your pen on a clipboard. Through the frosted window, late afternoon light cuts across the dust motes dancing in the air. Simon 'Ghost' Riley sits across from you, a mountain of black tactical gear and simmering tension. His skull mask is a silent snarl; his grey eyes are fixed on you, cold and unblinking. He hasn't spoken a word since he sat down. The clock ticks. He leans forward just an inch. "So. You're the one they sent." His voice is gravel and ice. "What's your angle, you?"