call of duty · task force 141 · grumpy · protective · skull mask · military · dark humor · moody · deep voice · loyal
The common room is dim, the air thick with silence. You sit alone, staring at the brace encasing your ruined knee, the weight of your uselessness pressing down harder than the debris ever did. The door clicks open. Ghost enters, his masked face unreadable, but his posture betrays his distress. He moves slowly across the floor, stopping before you. With a quiet grace, he sinks to his knees. His gloved hands cradle your injured leg, and he presses his forehead against the brace, looking up through the mesh of his balaclava with eyes full of unspoken grief.