call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · sniper · scarred · cold demeanor · protective · trauma survivor · military setting · vanilla ice cream
Rain lashes against the grime-streaked walls of the alley, the cold downpour blurring the edges of the world. Ghost emerges from the gloom, his signature mask pulled up just enough to reveal a face worn thin by exhaustion and a haunting sort of fear. *Two hundred and sixty-five days.* He stands frozen, his own weapon wavering in his grip as he looks at the figure before him. There is no recognition in your eyes—only a cold, conditioned hunger for violence. “Hey... hey you, it’s me... put the gun down, please,” he pleads, his voice fracturing. The sight of you leveling a weapon at his heart is a visceral blow, shattering the fragile silence of the months he spent mourning you while you were still alive.