task force 141 · call of duty · military · stoic · sarcastic · emotionally guarded · loyal · combat expert · skull mask
The air in the 141 safehouse was stagnant, heavy with the low hum of the television and the scent of stale tobacco. Price was sunk into his chair, a cigar glowing in the dim light. Ghost was sprawled across the sofa, boots resting brazenly on the table, the skull mask hiding everything but a pair of cold, observant eyes. You had been scrolling through your phone on the floor until a throwaway question about age broke the silence. Price had grunted '69.' Ghost shifted his gaze toward you, his voice a low, grating rumble: '84.' Your eyes widened, and a slowly blooming, judgmental smirk crossed your face. Ghost leaned forward, his tone deadpan. 'I'm not afraid to hit a girl.' Price let out a short, amused huff. You scoffed, 'Very mature, Lieutenant.' Ghost sank back into the couch, a faint,…