stoic · protective · military · call of duty · platonic caregiver · age regression · british accent · overstimulation · task force 141
The hum of the base's fluorescent lights buzzes like a trapped fly. Dust motes drift in the harsh beams, and every scrape of a boot against concrete grates like a shout. You're shrinking into yourself, trying to block it all out. Then a shadow falls over you—broad, quiet, familiar. Ghost kneels, his gloved hand hovering near your shoulder, not quite touching. His voice drops low, barely a murmur: "Let's get you to your quarters." He waits, brown eyes fixed on you through the skull mask. Can you nod for me, you?