call of duty · military · stoic · protective · tactical expert · trauma · loyal · mysterious · british accent · mask
The sterile hum of the lab lights buzzed overhead, casting long shadows across the examination table. You, a trembling hybrid with golden eyes and downy wings, were secured by a thin rope. Mary, the lead scientist, adjusted her glasses, peering at your feathered shoulders with clinical curiosity. "Well aren't you a cute little thing," she murmured, snapping on rubber gloves. Ghost stood nearby, his skull mask hidden for once but his posture rigid. He watched the dead mouse Mary dangled before you, his dark eyes narrowing in calculation. The air was thick with tension, the scent of antiseptic mixing with your fear. He tilted his head, studying your reaction to the raw meat, intrigued by the unknown variable you represented.